FOOTNOTES:
[1] In discussing the first and second heads, it must be recollected that the subject confines the inquiry to that portion of the work, which was edited by William Baldwin, and forming Part III. in the present edition.
[2] Hist. of English Poetry, vol. iii. p. 209.
[3] Bibliographia Poetica, p. 88.
[4] See vol. ii. p. 7.
[5] This must have been Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who was made Chancellor 21 Sept. 1553, and died the 13 Nov. 1555. On his death the great seal was entrusted to Sir Nicholas Hare, Master of the Rolls, and on the first of January following it was given to Dr. Nicholas Heath, the Archbishop of York.
[6] The copy before me wants the title. The colophon as follows: Thus endeth the nynth and laste boke of Iohnon Bochas, whiche treateth of the fall of princes, princesses, & other nobles. Imprinted at London in flete strete by Richarde Pynson, printer vnto the kynges moste noble grace, & fynisshed the xxi. day of Februarye, the yere of our lorde god. M. CCCCC. XXVII. Folio. Has sig. P. P. viij, the preceding signatures in sixes and the first alphabet wanting Y & Z. Ends at fo. CCXVI. This edition differs materially from the one printed by Tottell.
[7] A treatise excellent and compendious shewing and declaring, in maner of Tragedye, the falles of sondry most notable Princes and Princesses with other Nobles, through 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’s Shakesperiana, 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’s Chronicle. It may be conjectured that that work was printed, to the reign of William the Conqueror, before the appearance of the M. for M. in the year preceding, when the compiler, from the reception of that poem, was induced to alter his descriptions from prose to octave stanzas. As this Chronicle is of more than usual rarity, I shall venture to extend this note with some account of it, premising, that in the continuance of Ames, Mr. Dibdin will give a minute analysis of the work, accompanied with a specimen of the very curious wood cuts.
This Chronicle takes its name from the colophon: “Imprinted at London by Gyles Godet dwellinge in Blacke Frieres.” It was printed on a long roll in divisions, with bold well executed portraits, cut in wood, of our ancient patriarchs and monarchs, each having an ensign of arms, and beneath a brief narrative of the principal events of each life. The Roll commences with the following address:
“To the reader. Beholde here (gentle reader) a brief abstract of the genealogie and race of all the kynges of England, from the floudde of Noe, vntill Brute, at whiche tyme this contrye was called Albion, takyng that name of one of the thirtie sisters (as some saye) whose name was Albion: or as other some saye, so named by mariners, bicause of the white Cliffes that are on the costes of the same. And afterward from Brute to Athelscaine, at which time it was named Britaine, taing name of Brute: from Athelscaine, the first of the Saxons, (at which tyme it chaunged that name of Britayne, & was called England) to william Conquerour. And from william Conquerour to this present day. And if by chaunce thou fynde any thyng herein fautye, or not agreeing with some other cronicles, vnderstand that the diuersities of the cronicles of our realme, be so great, (especially in thinges long past) that it is very difficult, to make a certain & true report thereof. Not with standing, I haue vsed the helpe of the best Cronicles that haue [been] wrytten therof, & gone so neare to the truth, as to me seemed possyble. I haue also set forth the pourtraiture of their personages, with their true armes: also briefly their gestes, & deedes with the yeares of their raygnes & places of their burials, according as I haue found mention therof: Beesechyng the to accept my good wyll, and to receyue thys my laboure in good part: which if thou do, it shal not only be the accomplishyng of my request, but also shal encourage me hereafter, to vse my little talent, farther. Farewel.”
The “portraitures” commence with a square compartment representing “Noe” asleep in a vineyard and his three sons. See Genesis, C. IX. v. 22, 23. Then follows a three quarter length of each monarch, with a summary of their “gests” or acts printed underneath. Their names are
Noe, Cham, Mesraim, Laabin, Tuscus, Altheus, Camboblascon, Dardanus Ericthonius, Tros, Eneas, Ascanius, Siluius, Brutus.
Here another square compartment exhibits “the foundation of the cytie of London,” in a view of the Thames, with a Tower nearly built on the one side and foundations for buildings upon the other, with workmen, &c. Brutus “founded the cytye of Troynouant; (whiche is as muche to say, as:) New Troye, whiche afterward, was repayred & garnyshed with Towers and faire buyldynges, by Kynge Lud: And from his tyme, it was called Ludstone: and afterwarde by corruption of speache, was called London. So that from the begynnyng of the foundacion of the same Cytye, to this present yeare, (whiche is the yeare of our Sauiour 1560) we fynde it to be 2690. yeares, or there about.” Then succeed
Locrinus, Maddan, Memprise, Ebrancke, Brute the ii, Leyl, Lud Hurdibras, Bladud, Leir, Queen Cordeile, Morgan & Conedag, Riueall, Gurgustius, Sysyllus, Jago, Kymar, Gorbonian, Dunwallon, Bellinus, Gurgwin Batrus, Guitellin, Sicilius, Morindus, Gorbonianus, Archigall, Elidurus, Vigenius & Peridurus, Gorbonias, Morgan, Emerianus, Idwall, Rimo, Geruntius, [Here the names of 26 kings are given in genealogical circles, according to succession, of whom “we fynd not much written” and we may presume, that circumstance the reason for omitting any supposed resemblance of them.] Elinguellus, Hely, Lud, Casseuelanus, Tenentius, Kimbeline, Guinderus, Aruiragus, Marius, Coell, Lucius, Bassianus, Carasius, Asclepiodotus, Coell, Constantius, Constantyne, Octauius, Traherus, Maximianus, Gratian, Constantyne, Constans, Vortiger, Vortimerus, Aurelius Ambrose, Vter Pendragon, Arthur the great, Constantyne, Aurelius Conan, Vortiporuis, Malgon, Cathericus, Cadwan, Cadwallon and Edwyn, Cadwallader.
“Here endeth the raignes of the Britaines, from the time of Brute to Cadwallader, and then this realme being in great misery, the English Saxons inuaded it, and so raigned vntill the comming in of willyam Conqueror.” As
Athelscayne, Egbrut, Edelnulph, Alfred, Edward, Athelstone, Edmond, Edred, Edwin, Edgar, Edward, Etheldred, Edmond Ironsyde, Ciuiton or Swayne, Herauld, S. Edward, Harauld.
“Here endeth the raignes of the Saxon kinges: & beginoneth the raigne of willyam Conquerour, who slewe the last of the Saxons ligne, & conquered the land: & from him, to our Souueraine lady the Queenes maiestie that nowe is, whom god prospere. Amen.”
From William the Conqueror to Q. Elizabeth, the names of the portraits are according to the general regal table. With that king the compiler of the Chronicle commences his description in octave stanzas, of which a specimen for comparative use may be here preserved.
Willyam Conquerour i.
William Conquerour Duke of Normandy
Conquered England and began there to raign
The thousand syxty syx yeare truelye
Of Christ: but the Englysh men rebelled again
Yet he subdued them to their great paine,
And brought 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.
[23] See Vol. II. p. 8.
[24] Vol. II. p. 43.
[25] See upon that subject Vol. II. p, 168, note 1, &c.
[26] The title of this and the later editions by Marsh are in the compartment given with the title of each part of the present reprint.
[27] A copy is mentioned in Capell’s Shakesperiana, 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’s Sonnets sweetly sauste,
And featly fyned bee:
There Norton’s Ditties do delight,
There Yelverton’s do flee
Well pewrde with pen: such yong men three
As weene thou mightst agayne,
To be begotte as Pallas was
Of myghtie Jove his brayne.
Warton, in a note on the first line, remarks: “I have never seen his Sonnets, which would be a valuable accession to our old poetry. But probably the term Sonnets here means only verses in general, and may signify nothing more than his part in the Mirror of Magistrates and his Gorboduc.” An oversight of the critic leaves this conjecture without any weight. The above lines were in print before either the communication was made to the Mirror for Magistrates, or the play performed. Several other writers are named by Heywood, in the same address, also their works, and those works known; the sonnets of Sackville and the ditties of Norton and Yelverton excepted. This circumstance may well support a belief of their having been published as well as the others: neither is there any thing improbable that the sonnets and ditties of “such yong men three” were united in one volume, however it has hitherto escaped all research. There is a single sonnet by our author which shall be here preserved as not an inelegant relic of his pen. It is prefixed to The Courtier of Count Baldessar Castilio, done into english by Sir Thomas Hoby, who died embassadour at Paris 13 July, 1566, æt. 36, and was buried at Bisham, co. Berks. This translation was printed 1561, 1577, 1588, (the last supplying the present copy,) again 1603, where the sonnet is omitted.
Thomas Sackeuyll in commendation of the worke.
To the Reader.
These royall kinges, that reare vp to the skye
Their pallace tops, and deck them all with gold:
With rare and curious workes they feede the eye:
And shew what riches here great princes hold.
A rarer worke and richer far in worth,
Castilio’s hand presenteth here to thee:
No proude, ne golden Court doth he set forth,
But what in Court a Courtier ought to be.
The prince he raiseth huge and mightie walles,
Castilio frames a wight of noble fame:
The king with gorgeous tissue clads his halles,
The Count with golden vertue deckes the same;
Whose passing skill, lo, Hobbie’s pen displaies,
To Britaine folk, a work of worthy praise.
Sackville, the junior of nearly all his compeers and associates, during this short career of his Muse,[44] had also to sustain the labour and restlessness of politics. He was elected member for Westmorland, and sat in parliament the 4th and 5th of Philip and Mary. Upon the accession of Elizabeth, he represented Sussex at the time his father did Kent, and in 1562, upon the latter being chosen for Sussex, he was returned one of the members for Buckinghamshire. He early obtained the confidence of Elizabeth, (to whom he was related, as first cousin by his grand mother to Anne Boleyn), being, in his younger years, “by her particular choice and liking, selected to a continual private attendance upon her own person,” and is named in D’Ewes Journal, March 17, 1563, as conveying a message from her to the House of Commons, relative to making an “allowance for Justices Diets,” &c. About this period he visited France, Italy, and Rome, where, for some imprudency of a pecuniary nature, he was detained prisoner for fourteen days. On the death of his father he returned to England. His prodigal taste for splendour was first checked and finally stopped by the influence and admonitions of his royal relative, who, it is said, “would not know him, till he began to know himself.” On the 8th of June, 1567, he was knighted in her presence by the Duke of Norfolk, and created Baron of Buckhurst. In 1573 he was sent ambassador to France, and in the following year sat on the trial of the Earl of Arundel, being styled the Queen’s beloved and faithful counsellor. In 1586 he was nominated a commissioner on the trial of Mary Queen of Scots. In 1587 he went ambassador to the States General, but recalled by the influence of the Earl of Leicester and Lord Burleigh, and confined to his house, by the queen’s command, for nine months, when, upon the death of the Earl of Leicester, he was immediately restored to presence and favour, and on April 24, 1589, without previous intimation, made Knight of the Garter. In January 1591-2 he was elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford. On the 15th March, 1599, after the death of Lord Burleigh, he was appointed Lord High Treasurer; the patent whereof was renewed for life on the accession of King James, by whom, in 1603, he was created Earl of Dorset, and appointed one of the commissioners for executing the office of Lord Marshal. He died suddenly at the council table at Whitehall on April 19th, 1608, and being taken to Dorset house, Whitefriars, was embowelled and so much of him buried on the 20th, at Saint Bride’s Fleetstreet. Much state ceremony and solemnity followed, and after a lapse of above a month there was A Sermon preached at Westminster May 26, 1608, at the Fvnerall Solemnities of the Right Honorable Thomas Earle of Dorset, late L. High Treasurer of England: By George Abbott Doctor of Diuinitie and Deane of Winchester one of his Lordships Chaplines.[45] 1608. qto. It does not appear that these funeral solemnities were followed with enterment at the Abbey. No tomb exists, and by his will one thousand pounds was given for the building of a chapel at Withiam, Sussex, where his ancestors lay, directing his remains to be there deposited; which is also alluded to in the sermon. Lloyd gives him the following character: “He was a very fine gentleman of person and endowments both of art and nature. His elocution is much commended, but the excellency of his pen more; for he was a scholar and a person of quick faculties, very facete and choice in his phrase and style. He was wise and stout, nor was he any ways insnared in the factions of the Court, which were all his time very strong. He stood still in grace and was wholly intentive to the Queen’s service; and such were his abilities, that she received assiduous proofs of his sufficiency.” As early as the first year of the reign of Philip and Mary his Lordship married his kinswoman, Cecile daughter of Sir John Baker, of Sisinghurst, co. Kent, knt. who survived him, and died Oct. 1st. 1615.
[44] It has been said he wrote the Epilogue to Ben Jonson’s comedy of Every Man in his Humour, acted 1598: but was there any epilogue to the play when first performed? Charles Lord Buckhurst, sixth Earl of Dorset, supplied an epilogue on the revival of that play, which may be found with other pieces by him, in the Miscellany Poems, by Dryden, vol. v.
[45] Dr. Abbott had but an imperfect knowledge of the productions of his patron. In one passage he says: “His yoonger daies, the time of his scholarship when first in that famous Vniuersitie of Oxford and afterward in the Temple (where he tooke the degree of Barister) he gave tokens of such pregnancie, such studiousnesse, and iudgment, that he was held no way inferiour to any of his time or standing. And of this there remaine good tokens both in English and in Latin published vnto the world.” A marginal note explains the “good tokens” by the legend undoubtedly written by Ferrers, called “The life of Tresilian. in the Mirrour of Magistr. [and] Epist. prefix. Aulic. Barth. Clerke.” 1571.
[46] Francis Segar. See Bibliographia Poetica, p. 326.
[47] Francis Dingley was probably author as well of the Legend of James IV. as that of Flodden Field, and both composed very recently after the events they record took place. Not any discovery has been made relative to the life of the author.
[48] Thomas Churchyard, born ...... died 1604.
[49] Michael Drayton, born about 1563, died Dec. 23, 1631.
[50] Richard Niccols was the offspring of respectable parents residing in London, and born about 1584. When about twelve years of age he embarked in a vessel called the Ark, which sailed with the expedition against Cadiz in June 1596, and was present at the great and complete victory obtained both by sea and land on that occasion. Whether this voyage was the result of boyish ardour, or that he was originally intended to be actively employed for his country in either marine or military service, is not known. He appears on his return to have resumed his studies, and in 1602 was entered a student in Magdalen College, Oxford. He took the degree of bachelor of arts in 1606, and was then esteemed among the “ingenious persons of the university.” In 1610, he impliedly says, he should have continued the Mirror for Magistrates further, if his own affairs would have suffered him to proceed, but being called away by other employments, he of force left the completion to others. What designation those employments gave him for the remainder of his life, beyond that of a poet, is not known. In that character his talents would appear over-rated by Headley, who considered him “a poet of great elegance and imagination,” had not Warton, unwittingly, gone further. Niccols, on reprinting the Induction, found the rhyme too perfect, and the language too polished, to allow the attempting any of his supposed emendations; but towards the conclusion of the poem, he was bold enough to reject one stanza, and foist in four of his own composing; and it is to his credit that Warton, in analysing the whole, reprinted two of those, as the genuine production of Sackville.[51] Such a compliment cannot be exceeded. He first published The Cuckow, 1607, quarto, and he says, “Cuckow-like of Castae’s wrongs, in rustick tunes did sing.” 2. He reprinted the Mirror for Magistrates, in 1610, edited in a manner that had left his volume without any value, but for the adding his own poems: viz. First the fall of Princes, and last A Winter Night’s Vision. This Vision was probably composed as long before as August 1603, as that was the last calamitous year when the plague ravaged extensively previous to its being published.[52] On that occasion our author retired for safety to Greenwich; where wandering through the walks, long-favoured by Elizabeth, the circumstance of it being her natal place, combined with her then recent death, appears to have awakened his youthful Muse to attempt this metrical history of her life. 3. His next effusion was The Three Sisters Teares, shed at the late Solemne Funerals of the Royall deceased Henry Prince of Wales, &c. 1613, qto. 4. The Fvries, with Vertves Encomium, or, the Image of Honour. In two bookes of Epigrammes. 1614. oct. 5. Monodia, or Waltham’s Complaint vpon the death of that most vertuous and noble Ladie lately deceased, the Lady Honor Hay, &c. 1615. oct. 6. London’s Artillery, briefly containing the noble practise of that worthie Societie, &c. 1616, qto. For an account of this Poem, see British Bibliographer, Vol. I. p. 363. 7. Sir Thomas Overbury’s Vision, &c. 1616. Reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany, 1811. Vol. VII. p. 178. The author makes the ghost of Overbury, in his address to him, say,
O thou mortal wight!
Whose mournful muse, but whilome, did recite
Our Britain’s princes and their woeful fates
In that true 'Mirrour of our Magistrates.’
[51] Compare Hist. of Eng. Poetry, vol. iii p. 234. with vol. ii, p. 330.
[52] See the Induction: However, according to Stowe, there was not any Lord Mayor’s Show for three years after 1605 “by reason of continuall sickness.”
[53] Hee. edit. 1575.
[54] Will you that I rehearse. ib.
[55] Of. ed. 1575.
[56] Of. ib.
[57] Which must I needs be confesse. ib.
[58] Veritie: [but for so much as the above named virtue by Plotinus his iudgement hath such excellent properties it is so fit in a Magistrate, that] I surely &c. ib.
[59] Facts estates fortunes, ib.
[60] Yet. ib.
[61] Yea and though. ib.
[62] And. ib.
[63] Those whiche were counted the wisest that ever were. ib.
[64] Yea and though. ib.
[65] Be. ib.
[66] He is not counted bolde, manly and constant but made beastly and desperate. I will also sith I haue gone so farre with the vertues (and the place so vrgeth) lastly set downe the difinition of Temperaunce, according to Cicero his opinion. Temperaunce (saith he) is of reason, &c. ib.
[67] Vertue hath three, ib.
[68] Well and wisely.
[69] An immoderate, ib.
[70] Also to. ib.
[71] Learnedly touched. ib.
[72] Other. ib.
[73] Further. [Onely I would to God it were so ofte read and regarded of all Magistrates as the matter requireth.] ib.
[74] Booke (which I am so bold to dedicate to your honors.) ib.
[75] Not in first edit.
[76] And. ed. 1575.
[77] Can do farre better, either with eloquence to amend that is amisse in mine, or else when they see these so rudely pende, to publish their own, ib.
[78] Your humble Iohn Higgins, [ed. 1575.]
[79] From edition, 1587.
[80] From first edition. This address is omitted in editions 1587 and 1610.
[81] This is principally taken from the latter part of the prefatory epistle of 1575.
[82] First printed and now given from edition 1587: also in Niccols.
[83] Higins, by correcting what he had wrote before, re-composed several passages: The first three stanzas of the Induction are thus varied in the edition of 1575.
As Somer sweete with all hir pleasures past,
And leaues began to leaue both braunche and tree,
While winter cold approched neere full faste,
Mee thought the time to sadnes moued mee
On drouping daies not half such mirth haue wee,
As when the time of yeare and wether’s fayre,
So moue our mindes as mocions moue the ayre.
The wearye nightes approched on apace
With darksom shades which somewhat breedeth care,
The Sun hath take more neere the earth his race,
In Libra than his greatest swinge he bare,
For pardy then the daies more colder are,
Then fades the greene fruite timely, herbes are don,
And wynter ginnes to waste that Sommer won,
I deemde some booke of mourning theame was beste
To reade, wherwith instructions mingled so
As migh[t] againe refresh my wittes oppreste,
With tediousnes not driue mee quyte therfro:
Wherfore I went the printer’s straight vnto,
To seeke some woorke of price I surely mente
That might herein my carefull mynde contente.
[84] At leength by hap, ib.
[85] Wynter, ed. 1575.
[86] Not leaue with once, ib.
[87] Tell, ib.
[88] Pleading, ib.
[89] May. ib.
[90] More cleare then any. ib.
[91] Which, ib.
[92] His. ib.
[93] Thus in first edition.
Me thinkes they might beware by others harme,
And eke eschue to clammer vp so hye:
Yet cursed pryde doth all their wittes becharme,
They thinke of naught but prouerbes true do trie:
Who hewes aloft the chips may hurte his eye:
Who climes the tops of trees, wher bowes ar smal,
Or hawty towres, may quickly catch a fall.
This thing full well doth Phaëtons fall declare,
And Icarus aloft would flie and soare:
Eke Bladud once of Britayne rule that bare,
Would clyme and flie, but eache did fal therfore:
For Phaëton was with lightning all to tore,
And Icarus the meane that did not recke,
Was drownde; by fal did Bladud breake his neck.
The scriptures eake of such beare witnes can;
As Babilon for high presumption fell:
But let me ende my tale—
[94] And past the night with labours long. ib.
[95] My. ib.
Methoughte nothing my minde from them could take,
So long as Somnus suffered me to wake. ib.
[97] Then straight appeard in purple colour blacke. ib. At last appeared. N.
[98] After paynes were past. ed. 1575.
[99] I might receiue by Somnus ease at last. ib.
[100] Vnhappy princes were of yore. ib.
[101] Instead of Stanzas 13 and 14 the following are inserted in the first edit.
At length hee foorth his seruant Morpheus calde,
And bad him shewe mee from the first to th’ ende,
Such persones as in Britayne Fortune thralde:
Which straight vpon his calling did attende,
And thus hee spake with countenaunce of frende,
“Come on thy wayes and thou shalt see and here,
“The Britaynes and their doinges what they were.”
And as he led me through the darkes a whyle,
At length wee came into a goodly hall,
At th’ ende wherof there seemde a duskish Ile:
Out of the which hee gan the Britaynes call,
Such only as from Fortune’s hap did fall:
Which when he called thryce, me seemde to heare,
The doores to cracke from whence they should appeare.
And thryce I shrinkte aside and shund the sight:
And three times thryce I wishte myselfe away:
Eke thryce from thence there flew a flashe of light,
Three times I sawe them coming make their staye:
At laste they all approchte in such array,
With sundrie shewes, appearing vnto mee,
A straunger sighte then erste with eyes I see.
Men mighty bigge, in plaine and straunge attyre,
But some with wounds and bloud were so disguisde,
You scarcely could with reasons ayde aspire,
To know what warre such cruell death deuisde:
But sithe I haue their formes beneath comprisde,
Wheras their stories seuerally I showe,
Your selfe therby their cause of death may know.
[102] And eke their faces all and bodies were. ib.
[103] Make my fearful harte. ib.
[104] For my life eschewe. ib.
[105] Their, ib.
[106] For Morpheus wilde me byde and bad them tell. ib.
[107] Globe, ib.
[108] A person tall wide woundes in breste. ib.
[109] And as to speake he wiste he might be bolde. ib.
[110] Vnquoth, N.
[111] But thus. ed. 1575.
[112] Some copies of Niccols have a castration of this Induction with some trifling difference of orthography.
[113] The story of Brutus, or Brute, as here related by his son Albanact, closely versifies the principal incidents of his history given in the Chronicle of Saint Albans; an authority probably referred to by Higgins in the prefaratory address as “an olde chronicle imprinted the year 1515,” that being the date of one of the editions printed by W. de Worde.
[114] Me first of all the princes of this lande. ed. 1575.
[115] Behold mee here. N.
[116] Then shalt thou see, what tale I mynde to frame. ed. 1575.
[117] The following stanza is second in edition 1575.
So if thou liste to heare what I recite,
If thou intende to showe my fatall fall:
I praye thee take the paynes my tale to wryte,
As I in order here repeate it shall,
What nedst thou muse? thou nedst not feare at all.
Syth those that later liu’de their tales haue tolde,
Our elder liues to write thou mayst be bolde.
[118] Dreade, ed. 1575.
[119] Ne haue dispaire of so vncouched ryme. ib.
[120] Of. N.
Then why he flying from the Latin land
Did saile the seas and found the Briton strand. N.
[122] Greeuous. ed. 1575.
[123] The following omitted stanza from ed. 1575.
Well nowe I see thou putst apart thy fright,
(And giuste an eare to heare not heard before)
I will declare the storie all so right,
Thou shalt no whit haue neede t’inquire no more;
Do marke me well what I recite therefore,
And after write it and therewith my name,
Let hardly me receiue if ought be blame.
And reign’de iii yeares, Ascanius then his sonne,
Reignde next to him, eke Siluius was his heyre,
Begate my father, of a Lady fayre. ib.
[125] Strook. N.
[126] “An arrow with a square head.” Johnson.
But when as Brutus fiftene yeares was olde,
(For so they calde my father by his name)
With Siluius then a hunting goe he would,
And thinking for to strike in chace the game,
His father that by chaunce beyonde it came,
Receiude the glaunce and through his tender syde,
With deadly dint, the shaft did swiftly slyde. ed. 1575.
So though by chaunce my father Brutus slewe,
My grandsyre Siluius, sore against his will:
Which came by chaunce as he his arrow drewe,
That thought the fearfull Harte, not him to kill:
Yet was he banisht from Italia still: &c. ib.
[129] Thither. N.
[130] From death of those whose fall their. ed. 1575.
[131] My father all this. ib.
[132] Saw my father’s powre not weke. 1575.
[133] For of his brother he could finde no grace. N.
[134] Thus. 1575.
[135] All. ib.
[136] His post vnto the. ib.
[137] He. ib.
[138] Then whyle King. ib.
[139] My father with. ib.
[140] Him. ib.
[141] And tooke the brother of the Græcian King. N.
[142] My father into woods conueyde him than. ed. 1575.
And when the king had calde to mynde his foyle,
His flighte, and brother by the Troianes take. ib.
[144] And Brutus had. ib.
[145] By night my father. ib.
[146] He. ib.
[147] My father. ib.
Which victorie when he had wisely won,
The Trojane victour did a counsayle call,
To knowe what best were with the king be don;
Now tell (q’ he) what ransom aske we shall:
On which when none agreed scarce of all,
At length Mempricius vp from seate did ryse
And silence made, gaue thus his counsayle wise. ib.
[149] Troianes. ed. 1575.
[150] The fact. ib.
[151] Which thought, as ’twas a wicked heynous acte. ib.
[152] We rather ought. ib.
[153] All do wayle. ib.
[154] Lady. ib.
And by hir wisdome, cheere and parentes loue,
Doth vs, and Brutus, both to pitie moue. ib.
Yet some will saye, he should depriued bee,
Of kingdome quite, and worthy Brutus should
Receiue the scepter, this misliketh mee,
To this vniustice, Brutus, if we could
Consent, I deeme, agree he neuer would,
So much himselfe ambitiously t’ abuse,
Or else a king vnkindly so to vse, ib.
Our names for aye with foule defame would brand. N.
For kingdomes sake a king at home to kill
Were farre to bad, within his natiue lande:
Though he by right or wrong directed still,
His force gainst vs, that did him so withstande:
The king hath therfore ay the sworde in hand,
If any kicke against his pointes of lawe:
To cut them of, or keepe them vnder awe. ed. 1575.
’Tis best, O Brutus, if thou like her, take
His daughter Innogen vnto thy wyfe:
And let the king a dowry large hir make:
Gold, syluer, shippes, and corne for our reliefe:
With other thinges whereof this lande is rife:
That wee so fraught may seeke some desert shore
Where wee and ours may raigne for euermore. ed. 1575.
The hateful gods haue yelded mee. ib.
For feare I leese both life and goodes and landes. ib.
My father then was married by and by. ib.
The Troians proud of spoiles and victorie. N.
[164] Leogrece. ed. 1575.
Where Dian dwelt of whom the Troian crew. N.
[166] In. ib.
Wherin Diana to such credit grewe:
That sacrifice the Troianes counsayle gaue,
My father make, an aunswere for to haue. ed. 1575.
[168] Efilde with. ib.
In better sorte then I repeate it here. ib.
[170] Surelie. N.
[171] To reste and sleep. ed. 1575.
[172] Once. ib.
[173] Aunswere that it. ib.
[174] Affrica. ib.
From thence they sayled vnto Saliues lake:
Twene Azaræ hilles, and Ruscitadam
They paste, from thence to Maluæ floud they gate
To Hercules his pillers sight they came:
And then to Tuscan seas whereas by fame,
Not far from shore, like minded mates they finde,
Foure banisht races of the Troian kinde. ib.
[176] Calde. ib.
[177] For. ib.
My father did so frendely vse this man,
He was content and all his men besyde:
To trie aduentures by my fathers guyde. ib.
[179] This Stanza not in the first edit.
[180] Then. ib.
[181] And. ib.
[182] And vitayles for their men and them atchiue. ib.
[183] By fortune on an halberde then he light. ed. 1575.
[184] My father. ib.
[185] My father’s. ib.
——voide of breath,
Which pincht my fathers hart as pangs of death. ib.
[187] Cleeues. N.
[188] None. ed. 1575.
[189] But. ib.
My father had no cause but like it well
And gaue his souldiers places in to dwell. ib.
[191] My father caused Britayne called bee. ib.
[192] My father. ib.
[193] Sith. ib.
[194] Whereby his stock. ed. 1575.
[195] “Brute the fyrst King of Brytons, bylded & edefyed this cyte of London, the fyrst cyte of Brytayn, in remembraunce of the cyte of Troye, that was destroyed, and called it Troyeneweth and Trinouantum, that is newe Troye.” Trevisa’s Polychronicon. B. 1. C. xlvii.
[196] Then eke my mother all his, &c. ed. 1575.
[197] Of children erste. ib.
[198] Three sonnes because of Innogen he gate. ib.
[199] Then. ib.
Those mightie people borne of Giants brood,
That did possesse this Ocean-bounded land,
They did subdue, who oft in battell stood
Gainst them in field, vntill by force of hand
They were made subiect vnto Brutes command.
Such boldnes then did in the Briton dwell,
That they in deedes of valour did excell. N.
[201] Surely. N.
[202] Did cause vs feare. N.
His counsayle all and wee assembled were,
To bid vs hie, or haste there was no nede,
Wee went with them, this newes vs caused feare
Sith so he sent, he was not well in dede, &c. ed. 1575.
[204] Speed. ib.
[205] Doulfull. ib.
[206] I. ib.
[207] You. ib.
[208] Will. ed. 1575.
[209] Record to this mine eldest, &c. ed. 1575.
[210] Twene this and that the Stutiæ streame doth lie. ib.
[211] For which I nought but this remember craue. ib.
[212] Loe now. ed. 1575.
[213] And gasped thryse and gaue. ib.
[214] Then all at once with mourning voyce they cryde. ib.
[215] Teares. ib.
[216] And so. N.
[217] All with one assent. ed. 1575.
[218] Sayle. ib.
[219] This stanza follows in edit. 1575,
As custome wild wee funerals preparde,
And all with mourning cloathes, and chere did come,
To laye this king on beere we had regarde,
In royall sort, as did his corps become,
His Herce prepard, we brought him to his tombe,
At Troynouant he built, where he did dye,
Was he entombde, his royall corps doth lye.
[220] Flits. ed. 1575.
[221] Or. ed. 1575.
[222] This fame declarde that euen a people small. ib.
[223] Had. ib.
[224] Into three parts. ib.
——did he arriue,
In hope this lande of Britayne to atchiue. ed. 1575.
In hope to bee the King of Britanie. N.
[226] When by report. N.
[227] Foe-men. N.
And left my men as flockes without a guide. ed. 1575.
——of deadly wounds I dide,
My souldiers lost their noble prince and guide. N.
[229] To worke with princes slye. ed. 1575.
[230] By my fall beware. N.
If you repent when life and labours lost.
The Authour.
With that the wounded Prince departed quite,
From sight he slinchte, I sawe his shade no more,
But Morpheus bade remember this to write,
And therewithall presented mee before
A wight wet dropping from the water’s shore,
In princely weede, but like a warlike man,
And thus mee thought his story he began.
[232] The author’s continuation, as in first edition, is given in the preceding note. Nicolls uniformly rejected these connecting lines of “the authour” as well as those of the later edition entitled “L’envoy.”
[233] Thy. 1575.
Both from their realme and right: O filthy fye
On such ambition earst as vsed I. ib.
[235] Within. ed. 1575.
[236] The story of Humber is narrated according to the principal authorities. It is somewhat different in the Chronicle of St. Albans, which says: “so it befel that this Kynge Humbar was besyde a water that was a great riuer with his folke for to dysporte hym. And there came Lotrin and Camber with theyr folke sodaynly or that ony of the other hoost knew of them. And whan Humbar dyde se them come in aray he was sore adrad, for as moche as his men wyst it not a fore; and also that they were vnarmed. And a none Humbar for drede lept in to 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.”
[237] The Authoure.
Then vanishte Humber, and no sooner gon
Was he but straight in place before me came,
A princely wight had complet harnesse on,
Though not so complet as they now do frame:
He seemde sometime t’aue bene of worthy fame,
In breste a shafte with bleeding wounde he bare,
And thus be told the cause of all his care. ed. 1575.
[238] A line as vigorous and musical as Dryden.
[239] My haplesse deeds of yore, the same may I. N.
[240] But I. ed. 1575.
[241] Ill. ib.
[242] Force. ib.
[243] And. ib.
[244] So. ed. 1575.
[245] His. ib.
[246] Lovely. N.
[247] No Lady went on earthely grounde. ed. 1575.
[248] Euer chaunge my minde. ib.
[249] Where he declar’d what promise I did make. N.
[250] Never. 1575.
[251] “The singuler great loue and affection that he bare vnto the saide Eastrilde coued not yet out of his minde and be forgotten, wherfore he made a Caue vnder the ground in the Citie of Troynouant and enclosed her therein—insomuch as he had the companie of her the space of vij yeres full, aud none knewe it, but a fewe of his verie familyer and faythfull friendes.” Grafton.
[252] Likewise my Elstride I as Queene ordain’d. N.
[253] Rais’d. N.
[254] Or. 1575.
[255] For. N.
[256] Stura stream. 1575.
[257] Fabian varies from the other chronicles by stating the death of Locrine as in the life time of Gwendoline’s father; as she “beynge sore discontent, excyted her Fader and frendes to make warre vpon the sayd Lotryne her husbande. In the which warre, lastly, he was slayne when he reygned or ruled Loegria, or Logiers, after the concordaunce of moste wryters XX yers; And was buryed by his Fader in the cytie of Troynouant.” This might be the authority of our author for relating his burial at Troynouant as the stanza appears in the first edition.
Then was I brought to Troynouant, and there
My body was enterrid as you reade:
When I had raigned all out twenty yere:
Lo thus I liude and thus became I deade:
Thus was my crowne depriued from my heade,
And all my pompe, my princely troupe and trayne,
And I to earth and duste resolude againe. (1575.)
[258] Now warne estates, ib.
[259] No false deceit deceiues. N.
[260] Edition 1575 has only seven lines in this stanza: it concludes thus
For though ye colour all, with coate of right:
Yet can no fained farde deceiue his sight.
The Authour.
With that this king was vanisht quite and gone,
And as a miste dissolued into ayre:
And I was left with Morpheus all alone,
Who represented straight a Lady faire,
Of frendes depriude and left in deepe dispaire:
As eke she spake, all wet in cordes fast bounde,
Thus tolde she how she was in waters drounde.
[261] Woman. ed. 1575.
[262] The first saue three amongst vs all. ib.
[263] “Eastrildis so farre excelled in bewtie, that none was then lightly found vnto her comparable, for her skin was so whyte that scarcely the fynest kind of Iuorie that might be found, nor the snowe lately fallen downe from the Elament, or the Lylles did passe the same.” Grafton.
[264] Was. 1575.
[265] Or. ed. 1575.
[266] For. ib.
[267] Night. N.
[268] T’whom. N.
[269] Manhode. ed. 1575.
[270] Or let me on thy Queene be wayting mayde. ib.
[271] Thou. ed. 1575. You. N.
[272] Omitted stanza from ed. 1575.
As for my Queene as yet I none possesse,
Therefore thou rather maiste voutchsafe to take
That place thy selfe, then waite on her I gesse,
Whose beautie with thy face no match can make:
The Gods denye that I thy heste forsake;
I saue thy life, eke God forbid that I
Should euer cause so fayre a Ladie die.
[273] In. ed. 1575.
[274] Mine armes and giue me libertie at will. N.
[275] With whom such fauour I did after find. N.
[276] Have. ib.
[277] Sayd. ib.
[278] Constraineth one mine Elstride to imbrace. N.
[279] So, in both.
[280] Yet faithlesse in his promise he did proue. N.
[281] i. e. sorrow.
[282] Attainde. ed. 1575.
[283] Not be Locrinus wife. ed. 1575.
[284] Radge. ib.
[285] Parents. ib.
[286] Woman. ib.
[287] Ladye fayre. ib.
[288] This. ed. 1575.
[289] Tygres. ib.
[290] Day. N.
[291] What strumpet, think’st, for that thou seemest braue. N.
[292] Seeme. N.
Ne stoode she still but with hir handes on syde
Walkte vp and down, and oft hir palmes she stroke;
“My husband now (quoth she) had not thus dyde,
“If such an harlot whore he had not tooke:”
And there withall she gaue me such a looke
As made me quake. ed. 1575.
[294] Thee. ib.
[295] Take. ib.
[296] Wyse. ed. 1575.
[297] Then Elstride now prepare thy selfe therfore. ed. 1575.
[298] And friends. N.
[299] The. 1575.
[300] Striving, ed. 1575.
[301] A Prince’s wife. N.
[302] Myne. ed. 1675.
Then warne all Ladies that howe much more hie
Then their degrees they clime, mo daungers nye.
ed. 1575.
[304] Flattery refuse. N.
[305] Turning, ed. 1575.
[306] Then bid beware. ib.
[307] The Authoure.
With that she flitted in the ayre abrode,
As twere a miste or smooke dissolued quite,
And or I long on this had made abode,
A virgine smale, appearde before my sight,
For colde and wet eke scarsly moue she might.
As from the waters drownd didering came,
Thus wise hir tale in order did she frame.
ed. 1575.
[308] Many of the incidents of the preceding lives are united to form the plot of “the lamentable Tragedie of Locrine, the eldest son of King Brutus, discoursinge the warres of the Britaines,” entered in the Stationers Books 1594. The first act shows Brutus sick, making the division of the kingdom among his sons Albanact, Humber, and Locrine. The succeeding acts exhibit their wars on each other, and in the last is that created by Guendoline against Locrine, concluding with his death and those of his concubine and daughter the Lady Sabrine. See Malone’s Supplement, Vol II. p. 189. There is also “an old ballad of a duke of Cornwall’s daughter,” (Guendoline) inserted in Evans’s Ballads, 1784, Vol. I. The respective writers appear to have consulted the Mirror for Magistrates. In the persons represented in the play the author has chosen to deviate from all chronicle history by making “Madan, daughter of Locrine and Guendolen.”
[309] Tis wisedome rather then to winne to saue. ed. 1575.
[310] Elstride or Astrilde, is described by Robert of Gloucester as the stern Guendoline’s “bed suster, hire lordis concubine.”
[311] Flye, flye, thy gelous stepdame seekes thy life. ed. 1575.
[312] Eke. N.
[313] Farewell in woe you cannot scape hir knife. ed. 1575.
[314] Thryse. ib.
[315] Little, ed. 1575.
[316] Sclender. ib.
[317] An omitted stanza from ed. 1575.
Thus throughe the hoste he bare me to my bane,
And shewde the Souldiours what a spoyle he had:
“Loke here (quoth he) the litle Princes tane.”
And laught, and ran as brutish butcher mad;
But my lamenting made the souldiours sad,
Yet nought preuailde, the caytife as his pray
Without all pitie bare me still away.
[318] Till. ed. 1575.
[319] Some saide lo Elstride shee resembleth right. ib.
[320] Some. ib.
[321] Some said the thiefe. ib.
[322] And. ib.
[323] Nought. ib.
“O Queene (quoth I) God knowes me innocent,
To worke my father’s death I neuer ment.” ed. 1575.
[325] Take. ib.
This Sabrine hand and foote; at once let see
Her here receyue. ed. 1575.
[327] Which. ib.
[328] Guendoline “made a proclamation throughout all the whole realme of Briteyn that the same water should be euermore called Habren, after the maydens name, for so euen at this day is Seuerne called in the Welsh tongue. And this did she as one desirous to make thereby the name of the yong mayden immortall, because she was her housband’s daughter.” Grafton.
[329] By this. ed. 1575.
[330] Hence. ib.
[331] Here may you see, the children seldome thee. ib.
[332] Farewell, and tell when Fortune most doth smile. ib.
[333] The Authour.
With that the Lady Sabrine slinckt from sight,
I lookt about and then me thought againe
Approched straight another wofull wight:
It seemde as though with dogs he had bin slaine;
The bloud from all his members torne amaine
Ran downe: his clothes were also torne and rente,
And from his bloudy throte these plaintes he sente. ed. 1575.
[334] That. ed. 1575.
[335] Was. ib.
Durst none aduenture anger mine t’ aswage
If once to freate and fume I did begin;
And I excelde in nothing els but sinne,
So that wel nighe all men did wishe my ende. ed. 1575.
[337] And. N.
[338] In pleasures pleasaunt was my whole repaste, ed. 1575.
[339] This seems a provincial word, as crome is used in Norfolk for a hook. See Grose’s Glossary.
[340] Syrtes, a quicksand or bog. Johnson.
[341] Neuer, ed. 1575.
[342] Vast. N.
[343] The conclusion of this life, from stanza 11, is thus varied in ed. 1575.
Alas that youth (in vayne) so vyly spent,
Should euer cause a king to haue such ende:
Alas that euer I should here lament,
Or else should teache vnto my cost my frende:
Alas that fortune such mishap should sende:
But sithe it is to late for me to crie,
I wishe that others may take hede herebye.
I might full well by wisdome shund this snare,
Tis sayde a wiseman all mishap withstandes.
For though by starres we borne to mischieues are:
Yet prudence bayles vs quite, from carefull bandes,
Eche man (they say) his fate hath in his handes,
And what he makes, or marres to lese, or saue
Of good, or euill, is euen selfe do selfe haue.
As here thou seest by me, that led my dayes
In vicious sorte, for greedy wolues a praye:
Warne others wysely, than to guide their wayes
By mine example, wel eschue they may,
Such vices as may worke their own decay:
Which if they do, full well is spent the time
To warne, to wryte, and eke to reade this rime.
The Authour.
When this was said, no more was Madan seene,
(If it were he) but sure I half suspecte
It was some other else, so seru’de had bene,
For that all stories do not so detecte
His death, or else I did perhaps neglecte
His tale, bicause that diuers stories brought,
Such fancies of his death into my thought.
Therefore although it be not as some write
Here pende by me, and yet as others haue:
Let it not greeue thee reade that I recite,
And take what counsaile of good life he gaue:
I trust I may (that dreame) some pardon craue,
For if the reste, no dreames but stories pen:
Can I for that they wryte be blamed then?
No sure, I thinke the readers will not giue
Such captious dome, as Momus erste did vse,
Though Zoilus impes as yet do carping liue:
And all good willing writers much misuse.
Occasion biddes me some such beastes accuse,
Yet for their bawling hurtes me not I nill:
But with my purpose, on procede I will.
Next after that, came one in princely raye
A worthy wight but yonge, yet felt the fall:
It seemde he had bene at some warlike fraye,
His breste was woundid wide and bloudy all:
And as to mynde he musde his factes to call,
Depe sighes he fet, made all his limmes to shake:
At length these wordes, or like to me he spake.
[344] Madan had reigned forty years. Fabian says there is “lytell or no memory made (of him) by any wryters.” As a strict conservator of laws and for “great sapience,” he is briefly eulogised by Harding.
[345] We. ed. 1575.
[346] We neuer could our great, ib.
[347] We. ib.
[348] Our. ib.
[349] We. ib.
[350] Our. ib.
[351] We. ib.
[352] But O we thinke. ib.
[353] We. ib.
[354] Vppon this earth is all the greatest hap. N.
[355] We. ed. 1575.
[356] We. ib.
[357] We. ed. 1575.
[358] We. ib.
[359] And by me. ib.
[360] We. ib.
[361] Manlius, ib.
Who thinkes an other of his right beguyle,
Himselfe is soonest cleane bereaude of all. ib.
[363] My elder brother, ib. The authority for making this variation was probably Harding, to whose work Higgins may refer as “an old chronicle in a kind of English verse.” (See p. 7.) Harding says, “the yonger Memprise slewe his brother Maulyne, elder of age.” The other writers seem uniform in describing Mempricius as the elder.
[364] Did euer square, ib.
[365] Lou’d me well. ed. 1575.
[366] My brother feared I should haue his right. ib.
[367] I me bore. ib.
[368] I for because I might obtaine the crowne. ib.
[369] Fauoure. ib.
[370] Our. ib.
[371] And I could not from mine. ib.
[372] An additional stanza occurs here in the first edition.
See here, th’ occasion of my haplesse happe,
See here his chaunce that might haue liu’de ful wel:
So baited swete is euery deadly trappe;
In brauiste bowres doth deepest daunger dwell.
I thought mine elder from his right t’expell,
Though he both age and custome forth did bring
For title right: I sayd, I would be King.
[373] Instead of the tenth stanza the following are in the first edition.
Wherefore as eache did watch conuenient time,
For to commit this haynous bloudy facte;
My selfe was taken not accusde of crime,
As if I had offendid any acte,
But he as one that witte and reason lackte,
Sayde traytour vile thou art to me vntrue;
And therwithall his bloudy blade he drewe.
Not like a king but like a cut throte fell;
Not like a brother, like a butcher brute;
Though twere no worse then I deserued well,
He gaue no time to reason or dispute:
To late it was to make for life my suite,
“Take traytoure here (quoth he) thy whole deserte,”
And therwithall he thrust me to the harte.
[374] Chosen. N.
[375] “Lastly by medyacions of frends a day of communycacion in louynge maner attwene these ii bretherne was appoynted, at which day of assemble Mempricius by treason slewe his brother Manlius.” Fabyan.
[376] Brutishe.
[377] Which likewyse went my brother for to kill. ib.
[378] Which do inuente anothers bloud to spill. ib.
Vsurping wrong incurres the curse of heauen,
And blood cries out for vengeance at his hand,
Who still in care of humane good is giuen. N.
[380] A step aboue their owne degree. ed. 1575.
[381] I think she. ib.
[382] The Authoure.
When Manlius had thus endid quite his tale,
He vanishte out of sight as did the reste;
And I perceiued straight a persone pale,
Whose throte was torne and blodied all his breste:
“Shall I” (quoth he) “for audience make requeste,
No sure it nedes not, straunge it semes to thee,
What he that beares this rentid corps should bee.
“Wherefore I deeme thou canst not chuse but bide,
And here my tale as others erste before;
Sith by so straunge a meanes thou seest I dyde,
With rentid throte and breste, thou musist more;
Marke well (quoth he) my ratling voyce therefore:”
And therwithall this tale he gan to tell,
Which I recite, though nothing nere so well. ed. 1575.
[383] In the first edition always called Manlius.
[384] But he that myndes for rule. ed. 1575.
[385] For empire as I did. N.
[386] Must not. ed. 1575.
[387] His impious hands. N.
[388] Is. ed. 1575.
[389] Lookist for to haue. ib.
[390] Wherefore to giue example yet to som. ib.
[391] But sith I must as others tell their fall. ed. 1575.
[392] Eldest. ib.
[393] I deemde was nought vnlawfull. ib.
[394] For. ib.
[395] I was deuoid of doubt. N.
[396] After attaining the crown he “became so lyther a man, that he destroyed within a whyle all the men of his londe.” Chr. of St. Albans.
[397] So ofter that I felle. ed. 1575.
[398] Lothsome. ed. 1575.
[399] I will declare whence. ib.
[400] Alas I fell. ib.
[401] Might any ill exceed. ib.
[402] Heedes. ed. 1575.
[403] Fainted. ib.
[404] Tender, ed. 1575.
[405] By sudden death, pockes, begging. N.
[406] The Authour.
On this me thought he vanisht quite away,
And I was left with Morpheus all alone:
Whom I desirde these gryzely ghostes to stay,
Till I had space to heare them one by one.
And euen with that was Somnus seruaunt gone,
Whereby I slept and toke mine ease that night,
And in the morning rose their tale to wrighte.
Nowe (Reader) if you thinke I miste my marke,
In any thing whilere but stories tolde:
You must consider that a simple clarke,
Hath not such skill theffect of things t’vnfolde,
But may with ease of wiser be controlde:
Eke who so writes as much the like as this,
May hap be deemde likewyse as much to misse.
Wherefore if these may not content your minde
As eche man cannot fauour all mens vaines:
I pray you yet let me this frendship finde,
Giue your good will, I craue nought els for paines.
Which if you grutch me, as to great a gaines:
Then is my loue to you, and labour lost,
And you may learne take heede, with greater cost.
But now me thinkes I heare the carpers tell,
Saith one, the writer wanted wordes to fill:
The next reprou’d the verse not couched well:
The third declares, where lackte a point of skill:
Some others say they like the meeter ill:
But what of this? shall these dismay mee quite?
No sure, I will not cease for such to write.
For with more ease, in other workes they finde
A fault, then take vpon them selues to pen
So much, and eke content eche readers minde:
How should my verse craue all their likings then?
Sith sondry are the sects of diuers men,
I must endeuour only those to please:
Which like that comes, so it be for their ease.
The rest I recke as they blame worthy bee,
For if the words I wrote for good intent:
Take other sence then they receiu’de of mee,
Be turnde to worse, torne, reached, rackt, or rent
Or hackt and hewde, not constret as I ment:
The blame is theirs, which with my workes so mell:
Lesse faulty he, that wisht his country well.
If some be pleasde and easde, I lease no toyle,
At carpers gyrdle hanges not all the keyes:
What price gaines he, that giues him fall or foyle,
Which neuer wan by wrastling any prayse,
I haue not spent in poetrye my dayes,
Some other workes in proase I printed haue:
And more I write for which I leysure saue.
And for mine age not thirty yeares hath past,
No style so rype can yonger yeares attaine.
For of them all, but only ten the last,
To learne the tongues, and write I toke the paine,
If I thereby receiued any gaine,
By Frenche or Latine chiefely which I chose,
These fiue yeares past by writing I disclose.
Of which, the first two yeares I Grammer taught:
The other twaine, I Hulœts worke enlargde:
The last translated Aldus phrases fraught
With eloquence, and toke of Terence charge
At Printers hande, to adde the flowers at large
Which wanted there, in Vdalles worke before!
And wrote this booke with other diuers more.
Then pardon whats amisse, a while giue eare,
So shall you heare the rest that I recite,
Describing next what Princes did appeare:
When I had ended these are past to wrighte.
In slomber as I chaunst to lye one night,
Was Somnus prest, whom I desyrde to sende
His Morpheus ayde, these Tragedies to ende.
Wherewith he graunted my request and calde
For Morpheus straight: which knew wherto he came
I will (quoth he) the rest, whom Fortune thralde
Of Britaynes shewe: thy selfe to heare them frame.
And therewithall he set forth one like Fame.
In fethers all with winges so finely dight,
As twere a birde, in humaine shape of flight.
Yet twas not Fame that femme of painted plume,
He rather seemed Icarus deceau’de,
With winges to flye nighe Phœbus did presume.
At length in deede I plainly well perceau’de,
It was some king of vitall breath bereaude,
From flight he fell presuming farre to hye:
Giue eare take heede and learne not so to flye.
ed. 1575.
[407] “Mempricius the fyrst king of Brytons regned X yere.” Polychronicon.
[408] Bladud is represented as a prince eager in the pursuit of learning, and of unusual mental acquirements. Having travelled to Athens he had sufficient address to obtain a visit to his native land of four of the most eminent scholars, or philosophers; for whom he founded an University at Stamford with many liberal endowments, and which flourished until the time of St. Augustine, who got the same suppressed on a presumption of heresy among the scholars, He also reputedly discovered the medicinal virtues of the hot-baths at Bath, a circumstance alone sufficient in that remote age to add a fabulous portion in the emblazonment of his character, and a belief, as the Chronicle of St. Albans hath it, that “thrugh his craft of nygromancy he made a meruaylous hote bathe, as the geste telleth.” This same “geste” seems the foundation of the tale in all the Chronicles, which, though often repeated, was early disbelieved. It is best descanted on by the enlightened Treuisa in the Polychronicon. “Bladud, Leyles sone, a nygromancer was the IX kyng of Brytons, he buylded Bathe and called it Caerbadum. Englysshmen called it after Athamannes cyte, but atte last men called it Bathonia that is Bathe.—W[illelmus Malmel.] de pontificum. li. ii. In this cyte welleth vp and spryngeth hote bathes and men wene that Julius Cezar made there suche bathes.—R[anulphus of Chestre]. But Ganfr. Monemutensis in his Brytons book sayth that Bladud made thylkes Bathes: by cause that William [of Malm.] had not seen that brytons book, wrote so, by telling of other men, or by his owne ghessing; as he wrote other thynges, not best aduisedly. Therfore it semeth more sothly that Bladud made not the hote bathes, ne Julius Cezar dyde suche a deede, though Bladud buylded and made the cyte. But it acordeth better to kendly reason that the water renneth in the erthe by veynes of brymstone and sulphure and so is kendely made hote in that cours and spryngeth vp in dyuerse places of the cyte. And so there ben hote bathes that washeth of tetres, soores and skabbes.—Treuisa. Though men myght by crafte make hoote bathes for to dure longe ynough this acordeth well to reason and phylosophye and treateth of hoote welles and bathes that ben in dyuerse londes, though the water of this bathe be more troubly, and heuyer of sauour and of smelle than other hote bathes ben that I haue seen at Akon in Almayne and at Egges in Sauoye, whiche ben as fayre and clere as ony colde welle streme. I haue ben bathed therin and assayed them.”
Higgins, in his account of the learning of Bladud, has closely copied Bale, whose character was then generally known through the medium of Grafton’s chronicle. Perhaps to form the measure on a general model this life was re-written, being first composed in quatrains. It stands thus in the first edition.
Bladud recyteth haw he practyzing by curious artes to flye, fell and brake his necke. The yeare before Christe 844.
Shall I rehearse, likewyse my name?
And eke a place amongst them fill,
Which at their endes to mischiefe came?
Sith Morpheus bids me so, I will.
And that because I see thee minde,
To write my storie fate and fall,
Such curious heads it reade and finde:
May flee to flye, and shunne my thrall.
If daunger teach them liue take heede:
If leesers harme, make lookers wyse:
If warines do safetie breede,
Or wracke make saylers shelues dispise
Then may my hurt giue sample sure:
My losse of life may lokers learne:
My warning may beware procure,
To such as daunger scarce discerne.
I am that Bladud Britaine king.
Rudhudebras his eldest sonne,
Did learning first to England bring:
And other wonders more were done.
Now giue me eare, and after wryte:
Marke well my life, example take:
Eschue the euill that I recite,
And of my death a myrour make.
In youth I gaue my minde to lore,
For I in learning tooke repaste:
No earthly pleasure likte me more,
I went to Athens at the last.
A towne in Greece, whose fame went foorth
Through all the world hir name was spred:
I counted knowledge so much woorth,
Hir only loue to Greece me led.
There first of all the artes of seuen,
Wherein before I had small skill:
I Grammer gate declares the steuen,
By rule to speake, and wryte at will.
Next after that in Rhetorike fine,
Which teacheth how he talke to fyle:
I gate some knowledge in short time,
And coulde perswade within a whyle.
I thirdly learned Logicke well,
An arte that teacheth to dispute:
To aunswere wisely or refell,
Distinguishe, proue, disproue, confute.
Then after that, of number, I
The skilfull arte likewyse attainde:
Wherin of Mathematickes lie,
Full many pointes I after gainde.
And Musicke milde I lernde, that telles
Tune, tyme, and measure of the song:
A science swete the reste excelles,
For melody hir notes among.
But sixtly I the dame of artes,
Geometrie of great engine
Employde, with all hir skilfull partes,
Therby some greater giftes to winne.
So laste I lernde Astronomie,
A lofty arte that paste them all:
To knowe by motions of the skye,
And fixed starres, what chaunce might fall.
This pleasaunt arte allured me,
To many fonde inuentions then:
For iudgements of Astrologie,
Delites the mindes of wisest men.
So doth the arte Phisiognomie,
Dependes on iudgment of the face:
And that of Metoposcopie,
Which of the forehead telles the grace.
And Chiromancie by the hande,
Coniecures of the inward minde:
Eke Geomancie by the lande,
Doth diuers many farlies finde.
Augurium eke was vsde of olde
By byrdes of future things presagde:
And many thinges therby they tolde,
Were skilfull, learned, wyse and agde.
But Magicke, for it seemid sweete,
And full of wonders made me muse:
For many feates I thought it meete,
And pleasaunt for a Prince to vse.
Three kindes there are for nature’s skill,
The first they Naturall do name:
In which by herbes and stones they will,
Worke wonders thinges, are worthy fame.
The next is Mathematicall,
Where Magike workes by nature so:
That brasen heads make speake it shall,
Of woode birdes, bodies flye, and go.
The thirde Veneficall by right,
Is named for by it they make:
The shapes of bodies chaunge in sight,
And other formes on them to take.
What nede I tell what Theurgie is,
Or Necromancie you despise:
A diuelishe arte, the feendes by this
Seeme calde, and coniurde to arise.
Of these too much I learned then,
By those such secrete artes profest:
For of the wise and skilfull men,
Whome Fame had praisde I gate the best.
They promist for to teach me so,
The secretes of dame nature’s skill:
That I nede neuer taste of woe,
But alwayes might forsee it still.
Wherfore enflamed with their loue,
I brought away the best I could:
From Greece to Britayne lande to proue,
What feates for me deuise they would.
Of which were foure Philosophers,
For passing skill excelde the rest:
Phisitions and Astronomers,
In Athens all they were the best.
My father harde of my retourne,
Of my successe in learning there:
And how the Grecians did adourne,
My wittes with artes that worthy were.
He herde likewyse what store I brought,
Of learned Greekes from Atticke soyle:
And of my laboure learning sought,
With study, trauayle, payne and toyle.
I likewyse heard he buylded here,
Three townes while absent thence was I:
By South he foundid Winchester,
By East he built Cantorbury.
By West full highe he built the last,
On hill from waters deepe belowe:
Calde Shaftesbury on rockes full fast,
It standes and giue to Seas a showe.
These causde we both might well reioyce
He for because I gate such fame:
And I, for that by all mennes voyce,
His factes deseru’de immortall name.
What nedes much talke, the peres and all
The commons eke with one assent:
Extold my name especiall,
Which had my youth in learning spent.
I was receau’de with triumphes great,
With pageauntes in eache towne I past:
And at the court my princely seate,
Was by my fathers ioyned fast.
The nobles then desir’de to haue,
On me their children wayte and tende:
And royall giftes with them me gaue,
As might their powres therto extende.
But here began my cause of care,
As all delightes at length haue ende:
Be mixte with woes our pleasures are,
Amidste my ioyes, I lost a frende.
My father, nyne and twenty yeares,
This time had raignde and held the crowne:
As by your Chronicles appeares,
Whan fates, on vs began to frowne.
For euen amidste his most of ioye,
As youth, and strength and honours fade:
Sore sickenes did him long anoye,
At laste, of life an ende it made.
Then was I chose king of this lande,
And had the crowne as had the rest:
I bare the scepter in my hande,
And sworde that all our foes opprest.
Eke for because the Greekes did vse,
Me well in Grece at Athens late:
I bad those foure I brought to chuse:
A place that I might dedicate
To all the Muses and their artes,
To learnings vse for euermore:
Which when they sought in diuers partes,
At last they found a place therfore.
Amidst the realme it lies welnighe,
As they by art and skill did proue:
An healthfull place not lowe nor highe,
An holsome soyle for their behoue.
With water streames, and springs for welles:
And medowes sweete, and valeyes grene:
And woods, groaues, quarries, al thing else
For studentes weale, or pleasure bene.
When they reported this to me,
They prayde my grace that I would builde,
Them there an Vniuersitie,
The fruites of learning for to yelde.
I buylte the scholes, like Attikes then,
And gaue them landes to maintayne those:
Which were accounted learned men,
And could the groundes of artes disclose.
The towne is called Stamford yet,
There stande the walles vntill this daye:
Foundations eke of scholes I set,
Bide yet (not maintainde) in decaye.
Whereby the lande receauid store,
Of learned clarkes long after that:
But nowe giue eare I tell thee more,
And then my fall, and great mishap.
Because that time Apollo was,
Surmisde the God that gaue vs wit:
I builte his temple braue did passe,
At Troynouant the place is yet.
Some saye I made the batthes at Bathe:
And made therefore two tunnes of brasse:
And other twayne seuen saltes that haue
In them, but these be made of glasse
With sulphur filde, and other things,
Wylde fire, saltgem, salte peter eke:
Salte armoniake, salte Alchime,
Salte commune, and salte Arabecke.
Salte niter mixid with the rest,
In these fowre tunnes by portions right:
Fowre welles to laye them in were dreste,
Wherin they boyle both daye and night.
The water springes them round about,
Doth ryse for aye and boyleth stil:
The tunnes within and eke without,
Do all the welles with vapours fill.
So that the heate and clensing powre,
Of Sulphur and of salts and fyre:
Doth make the bathes eche pointed houre
To helpe the sickly health desyre.
These bathes to soften sinewes haue
Great vertue and to scoure the skin:
From Morphew white and black to saue,
The bodies faint are bathde therein.
For lepry, scabs, and sores are olde,
For scurfes, and botch, and humors fall:
The bathes haue vertues manyfolde,
If God giue grace to cure them all.
The ioyntes are swelde, and hardned milte:
And hardned liuer, palseis paine,
The poxe and itche, if worke thou wilt,
By helpe of God it heales againe.
Shall I renege I made them then?
Shall I denye my cunning founde?
By helpe I had of learned men,
Those worthy welles in gratefull grounde?
I will do so: for God gaue grace,
Whereby I knew what nature wrought:
And lent me lore to finde the place,
By wisedome where those wells I sought.
Which once confest lo here my harme,
Eschewe the like if thou be wyse:
Let neuer will thy wits becharme,
Or make the chaunge of kinde deuise.
For if the fishe would learne to goe,
And leaue to swim against his vre:
When he were quite the waters fro,
He could not swim you may be sure.
Or if the beast would learne to flie,
That had no plumes by nature lent:
And get him wynges as earst did I,
Would not thinke you it him repent?
Though Magike Mathematicall,
Make wooden birdes to flye and soare:
Eke brasen heads that speake they shall,
And promise many marueiles more.
Yet sith it swarues from Nature’s will,
As much as these that I recite:
Refuse the fondnes of such skill,
Doth ay with death the proufe requite.
I deemde I could more soner frame,
My selfe to flye then birdes of wood:
And ment to get eternall fame,
Which I esteemde the greatest good.
I deckt my selfe with plumes and wynges,
As here thou seest in skilfull wise:
And many equall poysing thinges
To ayde my flight, to fall or rise.
Thou thinkste an arte that seldome vsde,
In hand I tooke, and so it was:
But we no daunger then refusde,
So we might bring our feates to passe.
By practise at the length I could,
Gainst store of wynde with ease arise:
And then which way to light I should,
And mount, and turne I did deuise.
Which learned but not perfectly,
Before I had therof the sleight:
I flew aloft but downe fell I,
For want of skill againe to light.
Upon the temple earst I built,
To God Apollo, downe I fell:
In fiters broisde for such a guilt,
A iust reuenge requited well.
For what should I presume so highe,
Against the course of nature quite
To take me wynges and saye to flye,
A foole no fowle in fethers dight.
As learning founds and cunning finds,
To such haue wit the same to vse:
So she confounds, and marres the minds,
Of those her secrets seeme t’abuse.
Well then deserts requirde my fall,
Presumption proude, depriu’de my breath:
Renowne bereft my life and all,
Desire of prayse, procurde my death:
Do let allureing arts alone,
They pleasaunt seeme yet are they vayne:
Amongst an hundreth scarce is one,
Doth ought thereby but labour gayne.
Their cunning castes are crafty cares,
Deuices vayne deuisde by men:
Such witched wiles are Sathans snares,
To traine in fooles, despise them then.
Their wisdome is but wily wit,
Their sagenes is but subtiltie:
Darke dreames deuisde for fooles are fit,
And such as practise pampestry.
Thou seest my fall and eke the cause,
Vnwisely I good giftes abusde:
Lo here the hurt of learned lawes,
If they be wrested or misusde.
Then wryte my story with the rest,
May pleasure when it comes to vewe:
Take heede of counsayles all is best,
Beware, take heede farewell adieu.
Farewell, will students keepe in minde,
οὐκ αρετᾳ κακὰ ἔργα:
Els may they chaunce like fate to finde,
For why, Τοῖς κακοῖς τρὶς κακα.
Τελος.
[409] Sleek. Jamieson.
The noble higher climes and to the skies
T’advance his name he daily doth deuise. N.
[411] That noble arts in Britain might be taught. N.
[412] Receiu’d both crowne. N.
[413] With right and equitie to rule this land. N.
Giuing to each such peace as best did fit
Their birth, their wealth, their persons and their wit. N.
And of my land I gaue the fertil’st partes,
To foster learning and the famous artes. N.
[416] We did in noble science so excell. N.
————commending vs to skies,
Deeming vs people valiant, learn’d and wise. N.
[418] Niccols to improve the measure made several omissions in the text which are distinguished by inverted brackets.
[419] To deeme as Gods the images of men. N.
[420] By arts I made. N.
These Tunnes I did essay
To place by arte that they might last of aye. N.
[422] Both. N.
[423] Hard it healeth well. N.
[424] Whence ye haue helpe. N.
[425] Springs vertue take of vaines that they been in. N.
Fountaines hot and cold,
To heale by them the sicke, both yong and old. N.
Extols vs to the skies,
We look not downe from whence we first did rise. N.
Ambition will not wisdome’s counsell brooke,
Pride sets her thoughts on things that vade away,
Forsaken vertue which doth nere decay. N.
[429] We might admire what monsters time did hatch. N.
[430] Surpasse in his degree. N.
[431] As all the rest in wisdome weaker bee. N.
[432] Magicke arte. N.
[433] Which in the end did proue my future ill. N.
[434] Few men did euer vse like enterprise. N.
[435] And turne and winde at last which way I would. N.
[436] And in the fall I lost. N.
[437] This was my race, this was my fatall fall. N.
[438] In their effects they are. N.
Be wise in artes exceed not wisdome’s bound,
The depth of arte by wit may not be found. N.
[440] That nothing haue yet promise all to you. N.
All which by nature are abhor’d as euill,
Practisde by fooles, inuented by the diuell. N.
——Beware of climing high,
Lest that you helpelesse fall, as erst did I. N.
The Authour.
When Bladud thus had ended quite his tale,
And tolde his life as you haue heard before:
He toke his flight, and then a Lady pale
Appeard in sight, beraide with bloudy gore:
In hande a knife of sanguine dye she bore:
And in her breste a wounde was pearced wyde,
So freshly bledde, as if but than she dyde.
She staide a while, her coulour came and went,
And doubtful was that would haue tolde hir paine:
In wofull sort she seemed to lament,
And could not wel her tongue from talke refraine.
For why her griefes vnfolde she would right faine,
Yet bashfull was: at length an ende to make,
Hir Morpheus wild, and then thus wyse she spake.
[443] Cannot still keepe in my counsaile. ed. 1575.
[444] And shew mishaps. ib.
[445] That. ed. 1575.
[446] May keep. ib.
[447] And willing be to flye. ib.
[448] For sith I see thee prest to heare that wilt recorde. ib.
[449] What I Cordila tell. ib.
[450] To thee that giu’st an eare to heare and ready art. ib.
[451] Practisde for to flye and soare. ib.
[452] Who dead his sonne my father. ib.
[453] He had three daughters faire the first hight Gonerell. N.
[454] My sister Ragan. ed. 1575.
[455] And of vs all our father deire in age did dote. ib.
[456] So. ib.
[457] To giue where. ed. 1575.
[458] Had more age. ib.
[459] My prayse t’asswage. ib.
[460] Gainst. ib.
[461] But still. ib.
[462] This stanza follows in the edit. 1575.
Yet nathelesse my father did me not mislike,
But age so simple is and easy to subdue,
As childhode weake thats voide of wit and reason quite;
They thinke thers nought you flatter fainde, but all is true,
Once old and twyse a childe tis said with you,
Which I affirme by proofe that was definde,
In age my father had a childishe minde.
[463] He thought to wed vs vnto nobles three, or peres. ib.
[464] Sent. ib.
I must assaye and eke your frendships proue.
Now tell me eche how much you do me loue.
ib.
[466] Lou’de him well and more. ib.
[467] Would agayne therefore. ib.
But not content with this he minded me to proue,
For why he wonted was to loue me wonders wel:
How much dost thou (quoth he) Cordile thy father loue
I wil (sayd I) at once my loue declare and tell:
I lou’de you euer as my father well,
No otherwyse, if more to know you craue:
We loue you chiefly for the goodes you haue.
Thus much I said, the more their flattery to detect
But he me aunswered therunto again with ire,
Because thou dost thy fathers aged yeare neglect.
That lou’de the more of late then thy deserts require,
Thou neuer shalt, to any part aspire
Of this my realme, emong thy sisters twayne,
But euer shalt vndotid ay remayne.
Then to the king of Albany for wife he gaue
My sister Gonerell, the eldest of vs all:
And eke my sister Ragan for Hinnine to haue,
Which then was Prince of Camber and Cornwall:
These after him should haue his kingdome all
Betwene them both, he gaue it franke and free:
But nought at all he gaue of dowry mee.
At last it chaunst the king of Fraunce to here my fame.
My beuty braue was blazed al abrode eche where:
And eke my vertues praisde me to my fathers blame
Did for my sisters flattery me lesse fauour beare.
Which when this worthy king my wrongs did heare,
He sent ambassage likte me more then life,
T’intreate he might me haue to be his wife.
My father was content with all his harte, and sayde,
He gladly should obtaine his whole request at will
Concerning me, if nothing I herin denayde:
But yet he kept by their intisment hatred still,
(Quoth he) your prince his pleasure to fulfill,
I graunt and giue my daughter as you craue:
But nought of me for dowry can she haue.
King Aganippus well a greed to take me so,
Hee deemde that vertue was of dowries all the best
And I contented was to Fraunce my father fro
For to depart, and hoapte t’enioye some greater rest.
I maried was, and then my ioyes encreaste,
A gate more fauoure in this Prince his sight,
Then euer Princesse of a princely wight.
But while that I these ioyes enioyd at home in Fraunce,
My father Leire in Britayne waxed aged olde,
My sisters yet them selues the more aloft t’aduaunce,
Thought well they might, be by his leaue, or sans so bolde:
To take the realme and rule it as they wolde.
They rose as rebels voyde of reason quite,
And they depriu’de him of his crowne and right.
Then they agreed, it should be into partes equall
Deuided: and my father threscore knightes and squires
Should alwayes haue, attending on him still at call.
But in sixe monthes so much encreasid hateful Ires,
That Gonerell denyde all his desires,
So halfe his garde she and her husband refte:
And scarce alowde the other halfe they lefte.
Eke as in Scotlande thus he lay lamenting fates,
When as his daughter so sought all his vtter spoyle,
The meaner vpstart gentles, thought them selues his mates
And betters eke, see here an aged Prince his foyle,
Then was he fayne for succoure his, to toyle,
With all his knightes, to Cornewall there to lye:
In greatest nede his Ragan’s loue to trie.
And when he came to Cornwall, Ragan then with ioye,
Receiu’d him and eke hir husband did the like:
There he abode a yeare and liu’de without anoy,
But then they tooke, all his retinue from him quite
Saue only ten, and shewde him dayly spite,
Which he bewailde complaining durst not striue,
Though in disdayne they last alowde but fiue.
On this he deemde him selfe was far that time vnwyse,
When from his daughter Gonerell to Ragan hee
Departed erste yet eache did him poore king despise:
Wherfore to Scotlande once againe with hir to bee,
And bide he went: but beastly cruell, shee
Bereau’de him of his seruauntes all saue one,
Bad him content him selfe with that or none.
Eke at what time he askte of eache to haue his garde,
To garde his grace where so he walkte or wente:
They calde him doting foole and all his hestes debarde,
Demaunded if with life he could not be contente.
Then he to late his rigour did repente
Gainst me, and sayde, Cordila nowe adieu:
I finde the wordes thou toldste mee to to true.
And to be short, to Fraunce he came alone to mee,
And tolde me how my sisters him our father vsde:
Then I besought my king with teares vpon my knee,
That he would aide my father thus by them misusde,
Who nought at all my humble heste refusde:
But sent to euery coaste of Fraunce for ayde,
Wherwith my father home might be conueide.
The soldiours gathered from eche quarter of the land,
Came at the length to know the king his mind and wil:
Who did commit them to my father’s aged hand,
And I likewise of loue and reuerent mere goodwill
Desirde my king, he would not take it ill,
If I departed for a space withall:
To take a parte, or ease my father’s thrall.
This had: I partid with my father from my fere,
We came to Britayne with our royal campe to fight:
And manly fought so long our enmies vanquisht were
By martial feates, and force by subiects sword and might.
The Brityshe kinges were faine to yelde our right:
And so my father well this realme did guide,
Three yeares in peace and after that he dide.
Then I at Leircester in Ianus temple, made
His tombe, and buried there his kingly regall corse,
As sondry tymes in life before he often bade:
For of our father’s will we then did greatly force,
We had of conscience eke so much remorce,
That we supposde those childrens liues to ill:
Which brake their father’s testament, and will.
[469] Who for I could not flatter did lesse fauour beare. N.
[470] Betwixt their husbands twaine they causde him to agree. N.
[471] Of sixtie Knights that on him should attendant bee. N.
[472] As thus in his distresse he lay lamenting fates. N.
[473] Ill. N.
[474] And I was Queene the kingdoms after stil to holde. ed. 1575.
[475] Becke and bay I wolde. ib.
[476] Two churlishe impes. ib.
[477] This stanza follows in edit. 1575.
The one hight Morgan th’ elder sonne of Gonnerell,
My sister, and that other Conidagus hight.
My sister Ragan’s sonne, that lou’de me neuer well,
Both nephewes mine yet would against mee Cordell fight,
Because I lou’de always that semed right;
Therefore they hated mee and did pursue
Their aunte and Queene as she had bene a jewe.
[478] This Morgane was that time the Prince. ib.
[479] Licence. ed. 1575.
[480] Was euer lady in such wofull wreckfull wo. ib.
[481] Depriu’de. ib.
When first I left, the crowne of France did me exhalt. ed. 1575.
When friends I left in France that did me first exhalt. N.
[483] This. ed. 1575.
[484] That drawes at length to ende. ib.
[485] As in this pryson. ib.
[486] Vile aliue. N.
[487] Their. ed. 1575.
[488] Carkas on couch of straw. ed. 1575.
[489] A deadly. ib.
[490] i. e. poniards.
[491] Or libertie agayne. ed. 1575.
[492] Get. ib.
[493] My Hope. ib.
[494] Nephewes. ib.
[495] My wofull plight. ed. 1575.
[496] Deadly. ib.
[497] A mortal. ib.
[498] That one. ib.
[499] Nephewes. ed. 1575.
[500] Which I, alasse, lament, bid those aliue beware. ib.
Their soules to hell, when as they vndertake
To kill a corps, which God did liuely make.
The Authour.
Now when this desperate Queene had ended thus
Hir tale, and told what haplesse grace she had:
As of hir talke some pointes I did discusse,
In slomber faln I waxed wondrous sad,
Hir nephewes dealings were me thought to bad:
Which greu’de me much, but Morpheus had let bee,
And therewithall presented one to mee.
Of stature tall a worthy princely wight,
In countenaunce he seemde yet mourning still;
His complet harnesse not so braue in sight,
Nor sure as ours, made now adayes by skill:
But clampt together, ioynts but ioyned ill:
Vnfit, vnhandsome, heauy, houge, and plaine,
Vnweldy wearing, ratling like a chaine.
Wherthrough he had receu’de a deadly stroake,
By sworde, or other instrument of warre,
And downe his thighes the bloud by sithes did soake
Which I perceiued as he came a farre.
Now sith (quoth he) to heare you present are:
I will declare my name, life, factes and fall,
And therewith thus he gan to tell it all. ed. 1575.
[502] The tale of the gentle Cordelia and her unfortunate and too credulous father is better known from the pages of Shakespeare than those of History. Though in both, if not entirely sprung from, it is enlarged by fable, yet the interest that has been excited by the drama justifies the giving it here from manuscript, in one of its earliest shapes, which as such forms a valuable record.
Of King Leir and of the answere of his yongest daughter that graciously was mariede to the kyng of Fraunce.
After kyng Bladud regned Leir his sone: and this Leir made the toune of Leicestre and lete calle the toune after his name and he gouernede the londe welle and nobly. This kyng Leir had iij doughters the first hight Gonorill, the secund Rigan and the third Cordeill, and the yongest doughter was fairest and best of condicions. The kynge hire fader, become an olde man, and wolde that his doughtres had been maried or that he deide: but first he thought to assaie whiche of ham [them] loued him best and moste, for she that loued him best shuld beste be maried. And he asked of the first doughter how moche sheo [she] him louede? and she answerd and saide, better than hier oune life. Now certes quoth the fader that is a grete loue. Tho [then] axede he of the secunde doughter, hou moche sheo him louede? and sheo said more and passing alle creatures of the world. Ma foy, quath the fader, more may I nought axen. And tho axed he of the thirde doughter, hou moche sheo him louede? Certes fader quoth she, my sustres haue tolde you glosyng wordes, but for suthe I shalle telle you treuthe, for I loue you as moche as I owe to loue my fadere, and for to bryng you more in certeyn howe love goth, I shalle you telle, for as moche as ye be worthe so muche shal ye be louede. The kyng hire fader hadde wente sheo hadde hym scorned and become wonder wrothe and swore be heuen and erthe that she shuld neuer haue good of him: but his doughtres that loued him so moche shuld be welle auaunced and maried. And the first doughter he maried to Mangles kyng of Scotlande and the secunde he maried to Hauemos Erle of Cornewaille and so they ordeynede and speken betwene ham [them] that they shulde departe the reame betwene ham too after the dethe of Leir hire [their] fader. So that Cordeill his yongest doughter shulde no thing haue of his lande. But this Cordeill was wonderous faire and of so good condicions and maners that the kyng of Fraunce Agampe, herde of hire speke and sent to Leir, hire fader, for to haue hire vnto wife and prayed him therof. And kyng Leir hire fader sente him worde that he had departed his londe vnto his two other doughters and saide he hadde no more lande wherewith hire for to marien: And whenne Agampe horde this answere he sente anone ayeyn to Leir and said, that he axid no thyng with hire, but onliche hire clothyng and hire bodie. And anone king Leir hire fader sente hire ouer the see to the kyng of Fraunce and he receyuede hire with mochel worshipp, and with moche solempnite hire spousede and made hire quene of France.
How Kyng Leir was driven oute of his londe thurz his foly and how Cordil his yongest daughter helped him at his nede.
Thus hit felle afterwarde that tho two eldest doughtres wolde nought abide til that Leir hire fader were dede but werred vppon him whiles that he leued and moche sorwe and shame him dede. Wherfore thei benomen him holly the reame and betwene ham had ordeyned that one of ham shulde haue kyng Leir to soiourne all his life tyme with xl [lx] knyghtes and hire squiers, that he myght worshipfully gone and ride whider that he wolde into what contre that him likede to playn and to solacen. So that Managles kyng of Scotland had kyng Leir with him in the maner as is aboue seide and or other halfe yere were passide Corneill [sic] his eldest doughter that was quene of Scotland was so anoyed of him and of his peple that anone he and hire lorde speken togedres. Wherfore his knyghtes and his squyers half frame him were gone and no mo lefte but oneliche xxx. And whenne this was done Leir began for to make moche sorowe, for incheson that his astate was inpeired, and men had of him more scorne and despite thanne euere thei hadde beforne. Wherfore he wiste neuer what to done and atte the laste thought that he wolde wende into Cornewaile to Ragan his other doughter. And whenne he was come there, the Erle and his wife that was Leier’s doughter, him welcomede and with him made muche ioy, and there he dwelled with xxx knyghtes and squyers. And he had dwellede there scarsly tuelf month that his doughter of him nas fulle and of his companye, and hire lorde and shee of him had scorne and despite so that fro xxx knyghtes thei brougten vnto ten and afterwarde five and so there lefte with him no mo. Tho made he sorwe enough and said, sore wepying: allas that euere he come into that lande. And seid yit had me better for to haue dwellede with my ferst doughter. And anone wente thennes a yein to his first doughter: but anone as she sawe him come, she swore be God and his holy names, and be as moche as she myght that he shulde haue no mo with him but on knyght if he wolde there abide. Tho began Leir wepe and made moche sorwe and said, tho allas nou to longe haue I leuede that this sorwe and mischefe is to me nowe falle: for now am I pouer that somtyme was riche but nou haue I no frende ne kyn that me wolle dune eny goode. But whenne that I was riche alle men me honoured and worsheped and now euery man hath of me scorne and despite: And now I wote that Cordeil my yong doughter saide me treuthe whenne she saide as moche as I hadde so moche shulde I bene beloued. And alle the while that I hadde good tho was I beloued and honoured for my richesse: but my two doughteres me glosed tho and now of me thei setten litel price. And sothe [truth] tolde me Cordeil but I wolde nought belyve hit ne vnderstonde: And therefore I lete hire gone fro me as a thing that I sette litel price of and now wote I neuer what for to done sith my ij doughteres haue me thus deceyuede that I so moche louede. And nou mote I nedes sechen hire that is in another lande, tha lightely I lete hire gone fro me with oute eny rewarde of yiftes. And sheo said she loued me as moche as she aught hire fadre by al manere resonn: And tho I shulde haue axed of hire no more, and tho that me otherwise behighten thurgh hire fals speche nou haue me deceyued. In this maner Leir longe tyme him began to make his mone and at the laste he shope him to the see and passed ouer into Fraunce and axede and aspiede where the quene myghten bene founde and men tolde where that she was. And whenne he come to the cite that sheo was inne priuiliche be sente his squyer to the quene to telle here that hire fadere was comen to hier for grete nede. And whenne the squyer come to the quene be tolde hire euere dele of hire sustres fro the beginnyng vnto the ende. Cordeil the quene anone nome gold and siluer grete plente and toke hit to the squier in counsell that he shulde gone into a certeyn citee and him arrayen, bathen, and wesshen, and then come ayein to hire and bringe with him an honest companye of knyghtes, fourty atte the leste with hire mayne: and thanne he shulde sende to hire lorde the kyng and sein that he were comen for to speke with his doughter and him for to seen. And whenne the kyng and the quene herde that he come they hym receyued with mochel honour. The kyng of Fraunce tho lete sende thurgh alle his reame and comanded that al men to him shulde ben entendaunt to Lier the quenes fader in al maner of thing as hit were to himselfe. Whenne Lier hadde duelled their a monthe and more he tolde to the kyng and to the quene his doughter hou his tueyn eldest doughtres had him serued. Agampe anone lete ordeyne a grete hooste of Fraunce and sente hit into Brutaine with Leir, the quenes fader, for to conquere his lande ayein and his kyngdome. And Cordeill also come with hire fader into Brutaine for to haue the reame after heir fadres deth. And anone thei wente to shipp and passede the see and come into Brutaigne and foughten with the felons and ham scomfetede and quelde and Leir tho had his lande ayein and after leued iij yere and helde his reame in pees and afterward deid and Cordeil his doughtere him lete entere with mochel honour at Leycetre.—Whenne that kyng Leir was dede Cordeill his yongeste doughter helde and hadde the lande v yere and in the mene tyme deide here lorde Agampe that was kyng of Fraunce and efter his dethe she lefte wedowe. And tho come Morgan and Conadage, that wer Cordiell sistre sones, and to hire had enuye for as moche that hire aunte shuld haue the lande: so that betwene ham they ordeyned a grete pouer and vppon hire werrede gretely, and neuere they reste til that they hadde here taken and putte hire vnto dethe. M. S. Brute.
[503] Selfe from blame, blame worthy I. ed. 1575.
[504] Am. ib.
[505] Mothers, ed. 1575.
[506] Foe-mens. N.
[507] I deem’d if that I might once put her downe. N.
By force or fraud I did intend alone,
To sit as King vpon the Britaine throne. N.
[509] Nephewes. ed. 1575.
[510] O caytife vile, that did constraine a Queene. N.
[511] Nay traytour I as nowe by proofe is seene. ed. 1575.
[512] For vengeaunce and at length procurde. ib.
[513] Cunedagius “slough Morgan that was rebel ayanst him in Glamorgan in Wales, and by cause of that happe that countree is called Morgan’s londe.” Polychronicon.
[514] That. N.
[515] The Authour.
With that Morganus quickly past away,
The night me thought likewise was far epast,
Whereby it weried me so long to staye,
But Morpheus bad me bide and see the last,
“(Quoth he) the stories passe awaye as fast,
“As doth the tyme, and sith th’art nigh th’ende:
“Thou nedste not grutche, so short a space to spend.”
And turning then him selfe from me asyde,
He calde the next which therwithall in sight
Appear’d, and all his breste with bloud bedide.
What chaunce (quoth I) hath so thy corps bedight,
Thou worthy prince, or what mishaps of fight?
“I will (quoth he) with all my hart vnfolde
“My fatall fall, and therwithall he tolde.”
[516] This legend is not in the first edition.
[517] Which sought by outrage golden gaines to winne. N.
A sleepie sicknesse, nam’d the Lethargie,
Opprest me sore till death tooke life away:
This was the guerdon of my gluttonie,
As with the candles light the flie doth play,
Though in the ende it worke her liues decay:
So of the gluttons cup so long I drunke,
Till drown’d in it with shamefull death I sunke. N.
[519] This line omitted by Niccols.
[520] In the first edition this legend is in quatrains.
Forrex declares howe hee minding to kill his brother which ruled with him (that he might therby raigne alone) was by him slain. About the yeare before Christe, 491.
Pride moues the mindes of stately wightes
Such hauty hartes to haue,
And causeth vs for glory vayne,
That is not ours to craue.
Pryde pluckes out reason forth hir place,
And planted will in stede:
She puffes our mindes with vayne desires,
Our fancies fonde to feede.
Wherby we growe so obstinate,
And so ambitious ill:
That vs at length our brauery bids
In all things vse our will.
Ambition thinkes that lawefull is,
Which likes hir fancie best:
And demes she ought to haue hir forth,
And swinge before the rest.
She loues no mates, controlment shee
And warning doth despise:
She demes her selfe in all hir deede
And actions, wonders wise.
She hath desire of this and that,
To get by crouche or clawe:
By right or wrong she forceth not,
She vseth will for lawe.
No kinde, or countrey she regardes,
No mother, father shee:
Nor wyfe, or husbande, kithe or kin:
But enuies eche degree.
For if thy hart Ambition haue,
Thy greedy mynde to still:
Thou wilt not sticke thy dearest frende,
Or nerest kin to kill.
But as the prouerbe sayes that Pryde
Must needes at length haue fall:
Though we suppose of strength and powre
We haue the deuill and all.
Euen so I say: Ambition makes
Vs often clime so hie:
At length we fall, we come to nought,
And drownde in darkenes lye.
This may I Forrex well auouche,
By proufe to true I finde:
Wherefore I praye thee with the rest,
Do put my faultes in mynde.
My father olde, hight Gorboduge,
Raignde three score yeares and three:
And at his death gaue all his lande
Twene Porrex proude and mee.
Fiue yeares we helde it so in peace,
In reste we ruled well:
But at the last by pryde and wrath
We foule at discorde fell.
We eache encrochte on others partes,
For rule we liu’de at strife:
And eache did seeke occasion aye
To reaue the others life.
I made this counte I elder was,
By birth the realme was myne:
By warre, or wrong, or bloud I ment
To haue it all in fine.
And he although he yonger were,
Esteemde his state so sure
As mine: and thought it his, if hee
My death might once procure.
My mother eke that lou’de me more
Although he yonger was:
By diuers meanes did helpe me still
To bring my feates to passe.
Wherby I thought my selfe so sure
To haue my purpose sped,
As I requirde: if once I might
Get of his crafty head.
See here what faith what frendship is,
What loue what fauour wee
Do shewe to any wight aliue,
If once aloft we bee.
To fathers we are faithlesse ofte:
To brothers, butchers vile:
Of sisters small accounte we make,
And wedded wyues exile.
If any kithe, or kin, we haue,
By whom we vantage may:
We care not by what cruell meanes
Their liues we take away.
But for to get the seate alone,
And for to wynne the crowne:
We care not whom, nor when, nor how:
So we may get them downe.
O brutish beasts! nay worse then those,
For they are still content
With that they haue, what euer them
Hath God or Nature sent.
But we do gape, and gaze for glore:
We prowle, and powle, and pill,
And sweare, and stare, and striue, and fight,
And one another kill.
And all for pompe, and glorie great,
For name, renowne, estate:
Not caring of the commons crye,
Or God’s eternall hate.
If I had had the giftes of grace,
I neuer would haue sought
By any meanes such worldly trashe,
With brother’s bloud to bought.
But as I ment euen so I sped,
So bloudy butchers thye:
When moste I deemde my purpose sure,
He was to good for me.
For as I thought his bloud to shed,
I compast was about,
So that for thousand kingdomes, I
Could not with life scape out.
He pearst my hart, what skilles it sith,
My minde was euen as bad:
For why what measure I him mente,
My selfe like measure had.
And so all such, as murder meane,
Intende, or treason vse,
Shall at the length, like ends attayne,
Or worse they cannot chuse.
[521] To tell my storie on the tragicke stage. N.
I may complaine that felt god Mars his rage,
Alas, that fate to state should be so fell;
Had I been meaner borne I know right well. N.
[523] While that my kingly sire, Gorbodug, raign’d. N.
[524] Not sticke oft times in field to fight. N.
Into her bowels by the force of hand,
With steele and iron we do dig profound,
Working her woe to make our ioyes abound. N.
[526] If we behold the substance. N.
[527] How he is made of elements. N.
[528] Armie strong for field. N.
[529] Heard the counsell. N.
[530] Hope will slip. N.
[531] Bred. N.
[532] The concluding Alexandrine omitted by Niccolls.
The Authour.
When as king Forrex thus had tolde his tale,
Me thought he stayde no whit but went his way.
Then came a mangled corps as full of bale,
And or he nerer came made half a stay.
(Quoth Morpheus) come, for shame thou nedste not stay,
As bad as thou haue tolde their tales before,
And so must thou and diuers other more.
[533] The life of Porrex was also re-written. It is thus in the first edition.
Porrex recites howe for the slaughter of his brother, he was slaine by his owne mother and hir maydens, as he laye sleeping. About the yeare before Christ, 491.
Genes. 4.
From darkesome dennes, where cruel Cayne,
And other like do lye:
Whose bloudie blades were bathde in bloud,
Poore caytiue thence come I.
Annius.
Where Typhon is, his brother slewe,
Osiris in despite:
And where their sister Isis is,
Did him againe requite.
Virgil. in culi.
Where Dardanus to rule alone
His brother made away:
Etheocles, Polinices,
At once did others sley.
Seruius. 3. Aeneid. Ouid in Ibin.
Where Helenus king Priam’s son
His brother Theon kilde.
Medea eke in bloudy wyse,
Hir brother’s bloud that spilde.
Statius.
Where Tydeus is in hunting shote
His brother through the side:
Polytes eke his brother’s harte
With sworde that opened wyde.
Herodotus. Gel. li. 4. cap. 3.
And where as that Cambyses is,
His sister once that slewe:
And Polipontes king that made,
His brother treason rewe.
And cruell where Odores s,
Which mercy did deny
To Mithridate his brother deare,
That did for pardon crie.
Herodotus.
Eke where Learchus is, that did
His brother sicke destroy:
With poyson deadly hoping so,
To make him selfe a Roy.
Ouid in Ibin.
And where that wretche Mamertes lies,
His brothers sonnes that spilte:
And Sisapho tormenting him,
For such an heynous gilte.
Plutarch. Laert. Volater.
Where Rhesus and Caduidus are,
With shaftes their brethren slewe:
And Philadelphus Ptolomæ
His brother’s death did brewe.
Volater.
Where Philopater Ptolomæ
His father made away
And after that his brother with
His dearest frendes did slay.
Plato. 10. de rep.
And where Ardieus, tyraunt vile,
His aged father stroyde,
And after that his elder brother,
Kingdomes to enioyde.
Cælius.
Where Mithridates, beastly king,
Of Pontus feeles anoye:
Which mother his, and brother eke,
Sixe children did destroye.
Volater.
Where is Antiochus the great,
His brother brought to graue:
That he might onely raigne alone,
And all the kingdome haue.
Liuius. Lucan. Ouid.
Wher Romulus, that Remus slew,
Of Romaines, first had fall:
Though louing brother first he were,
Presumde to scale the wall.
Flores Histor.
And where Mempricius lewde doth lye,
A Britayne Prince that slue,
His brother Manlius fearing lest
He were to him vntrue.
Salust.
Where Iurgurth eke that basterde is,
His brethren brought to graue:
That after them Numidia
He might for kingdome haue.
And where a thousande are beside,
Which were to long to tell,
Their parentes deare and brethren slue,
And now in darkenes dwell.
From thence I came a Britayne yore,
Namde Porrex once a king:
Againe to shewe what vices mee
To sodaine death did bring.
Now list a while and then do write,
What I thee tell, that others may
Themselues in such attempts as these,
From bloudy acts, as brethren stay.
My brother Forrex fiue yeares space,
And I this kingdome helde:
Betweene vs both the common weale,
We scace did wisely welde.
At length we fondly fell at strife,
So Princes bide no mate,
Nor make, nor partners, with to raigne
But beare their equals hate.
The heire because I yongest was,
Thought his by right the crowne:
But I esteemde the halfe was mine,
And all if he were downe.
Whereby, O brothell, butcher eke,
Not brother I did slay:
My brother for to haue it all,
And get his right away.
Such are the acts of heedelesse youthes,
Such are their studies still:
Which care not what offence they make,
So they their fancies fill.
But as it is vniustice, and
An haynous acte to vse:
Such murder, slaughter, parricide
And iustice all refuse.
So Ioue the iust at length requites
Our deedes: and makes vs rewe
We euer were, to God, or man
Or nature’s hestes vntrue.
For when I deemde the crowne was mine,
Which had my brother slayne,
O griefe to tell, my mother, and
Hir maydens wrought my payne.
Both for my fault, and for she lou’de
My brother Forrex still:
With all hir maydes she came by night,
My sleeping corps to kill.
And I that slombring sleeping lay,
Though many dreames fortolde
My haplesse fall, could neuer wake,
The meaning to vnfolde.
But last supposing with my selfe,
I cruell Tigres sawe,
With rauening fearcenes rent their yong,
Against dame Nature’s lawe.
She came on me to fill my dreame,
Before my eyes could wake,
And with a dagger reft my life,
For Forrex slaughter’s sake.
Virgil in Culice.
Much like Agaue and his mates,
Shee and hir maydens got
Them tooles therefore, and hewde my corse,
As small as fleshe to pot.
Ouid. 6. Metamor.
Or Progne Queene hir children slue,
and hewde their membres small:
In wrathfull ire made Tereus feede,
and fil himselfe withall.
Virgil. 8. Aegl.
Or like Medea monster Queene,
hir Iason’s sonnes that kilde:
Because she was forsaken when
his purpose was fulfilde.
Like these was shee, nay worse, for why,
This ended Brutus lyne:
Brought me to ende and hir to shame,
though first the fault were mine.
Bid those beware that weene to winne,
by bloudy acts the crowne:
Lest from the height they feele the fall
of topsy turuye downe.
For if when they suppose themselues
aloft to touch the skie,
There chaunce a storme, there is no holde
to staye themselues so hie.
But faster farre, more swiftly they,
and with more swinge descende,
Then euer erst they could with all
there force to clime contende:
Do bid them then in all their deedes
marke well the finall ende.
Or Typhon who for state and worldly pelfe,
His deare Osiris. N.
[535] Then to do the like may trie. N.
[536] Orodes slew his brother. N.
[537] So I my brother’s life away did take. N.
[538] Procur’d the slaughter. N.
[539] This. N.
[540] They would not so aspire to Princes place. N.
[541] From bale to blisse and downe from heauen to hell. N.
[542] Touch not the Prince, crowne, scepter, &c. N.
[543] The Authour.
Next after Porrex came an other such,
Had all his body quite in peeces rent:
A desperate man, his life bewayling much:
Which for he seemed sorely to lament,
I was the rather him to heare content:
That I might also note his story here,
From like attempts of vices you to feare.
[Here follows the tragedy of Kimarus, as at p. 208.]
[544] The author has followed the authority of the Polichronicon in making Porrex the survivor. In the chronicle by Harding and other authorities their destiny is reversed; though generally it is stated, that the conqueror obtained the kingdom through the powerful aid of the king of France. Upon the story of these brothers was founded the tragedy of Gorboduc, produced by Norton and Sackvile in 1561, which was one of the earliest legitimate productions of the English drama. The murderous events of their history seem not to have been considered sufficient to maintain the interest of the play, and the traditionary tale was deviated from by making the old king Gorboduc survive his sons, and to fall a sacrifice with the queen, to the rage of the multitude. But this accumulation of horror was in taste with the times, and Sir P. Sidney describes the piece as “full of morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and thereby obtain the very end of poetry.”
[545] The three formed part of a pentarchy, whereon the chronicles are uniform as to the obscurity.
[546] Not in the first edition.
[547] Right ouerrunnes. N.
[548] After comes. N.
[549] If good be gaine. N.
[550] The grape growes on the vine and not the hop. N.
Of this now spoken, this would I inferre,
Men may by might a kingdome long withhold
Not due to them: but they far better were
To yeeld vnto the right, what reason would.
Good mettals bides the touch, which tries the gold,
When copper counted counterfeit in cast,
Is deem’d but drosse and called in at last. N.
I am that Pinnar, who when Brutus blood
Extincted was in bloodie Porrex raigne,
Amongst the Princes in contention stood,
Who in the Britaine throne by right should raigne:
Mongst whom by might a part I did obtaine,
That part of Albion call’d Logria hight,
I did long time vsurpe against all right. N.
Stater who stept into the Scottish throne,
And Rudacke, that vsurpt the Cambrian crowne,
Their minds to mine did frame and ioyn’d in one,
To keepe the Cornish Prince stout Cloten downe,
Twixt whom and vs in fighting, for renowne
Faire Ladie Albion Europes wondred Ile,
Rob’d of her beautie was, alas the while. N.
Duke Cloten, though a man of worthie praise,
Who claim’d the crowne as due to him by right:
Could not preuaile till death did end his daies,
His sonne Mulmucius that vndaunted Knight
Pursu’d his fathers claime with all his might,
And meeting vs in many a bloodie field,
At length in manly fight did make vs yeeld. N.
He Lion-like himselfe with his all troope
Of nimble Cornish met vs on the way,
And to his conquering arme did cause vs stoope,
The price of treason I with blood did pay,
My wrong deem’d right appear’d in my decay.
Who so by violence scales the throne of State,
Seldome sits sure, but falles by violent fate. N.
[556] Not in the first edition. It is scarcely necessary to notice to the reader the change to the anapæstic metre in this short life, which the author has just called “staylesse staggering footed verse.”
[557] Desist not in histories truly to tell. N.
[558] Mirrours. N.
[559] Our souldiers were slaughter’d, or forced to yeeld. N.
[560] Were killed before. N.
[561] Or forced to yeeld, or abandon the coast. N.
[562] Not in the first edition.
[563] Esteem’d. N.
[564] Bladhud’s fond deuice. N.
[565] Adowne. N.
[566] By my mishaps let other men be wise. N.
[567] (For Forrex hight and Porrex both were slayne. N.)
[568] The wors er thereby our faithfull friends were. N.
[569] We do enioy her vaine ioyes. N.
[570] Stand. N.
[571] When I who with others did thinke myselfe sure. N.
[572] Who, when to field our power we did draw. N.
[573] Donwallo with honour. N.
[574] Oppose. N.
[575] Not inserted in the first edition.
Mulmucius who with conquering blade did free
The Britans troubled state from tyrants vile. N.
[577] With me in Albany to leade a princely life. N.
[578] His eie on Samye’s beautie had so fed. N.
[579] By force of armes to beare the. N.
[580] Erst bene heard mongst wise men sawes. N.
——the like by strife,
Or make assault by wrong to winne a Prince’s wife. N.
But on his side the conquest did appear,
I yeelded her. N.
[583] For tribute hostage gaue to Beline ere he past. N.
[584] And why false fortune my attempt did crosse. N.
[585] At seas we met our foes. N.
[586] The. N.
[587] And threatned Beline sore. N.
[588] Then appointed was to take the warre in hand. N.
[589] Whose bounteous grace for aye my loue to him did bind. N.
[590] Rashnes (by proofe I found) incurs the greatest ill. N.
[591] With her his Dukedome. N.
[592] By this you shall defame. N.
[593] Wore. N.
[594] Or force him yeeld.
By bloodshed they do build and prop their tottering state,
Raigne, liue and die despisde, in never dying hate. N.
——your force, by discord and by strife,
Distaine your bloods and reaue Corwenna’s of her life. N.
[597] Then let my iust request haue place. N.
——Pleading for a righteous peace
Aswage the warres which gods commands you to surcease. N.
——We met, and did imbrace,
All warre was set aside and ladie peace tooke place. N.
The craggie mountaines that do touch the skies,
With aged heads are euer white with snow,
The seas allow do rore, whence vapours rise,
And from the hilles great streames of waters floe,
The pathes so strict to passe which few do goe. N.
[601] Hang threatning death to them below. N.
[602] The Tuscans as we droue our heards of neat. N.
[603] Frenchmen with vs were. N.
[604] Could not hold vs well. N.
We raised straight, at Rome we founded loud alarmes,
To wreake reuenge for breach done gainst the law of armes. N.
[606] We came, which we possesse. N.
[607] Paid. N.
[608] Desired peace not daring vs prouoke. N.
[609] Though by the gods. N.
[610] And here he them. N.
[611] Who for a crowne breakes faith, and murders foule commits. N.
[612] He will be. N.
But from King Ptolomie these newes we heare,
No peace he crau’d, no tribute. N.
[614] Ne friendship crau’d. N.
Except our weapons laid adowne we should submit,
No arguments of peace he would admit. N.
[616] Quoth he, not lost. N.
[617] Will all dispoiled bee. N.
[618] Without your powerful aides, whose actes the world haue won. N.
For which the souldiers all did chuse him for their king,
But them as captaine he against their foes would bring. N.
[620] Horse, which made a goodly sight. N.
[621] We wan the fielde in fight, we spoild the land at will. N.
[622] After this battle Beline must be presumed to haue returned to his native land, and many are the notable deeds which he reputedly effected for the weal of Britain. He, “both in ciuile iustice and also religion, as at that time was vsed, encresed his realm, constituting thre Archflamins, whose seas wer at London, York, and Carleon: He finished the foure great waies begun by his father: [Viz. Watling-street, Ikenild-street, the Fosse, and Ermin-street, thus referred to in Camden’s Britannia: 'Some imagine that these ways were made by one Mulmutius, God knows who, many ages before the birth of Christ: but this is so far from finding credit with me that I positively affirm, they were made from time to time by the Romans!’ To return: he] subdued and made tributarie vnto him Denmark. In London he made the hauen which at this day reteineth the name of him, called Belines-gate: and as master Leiland writeth (whose labour and industrie, in most diligent serchyng out the antiquities of this realm, is greatly to be commended) builded the tower of London. He maried his daughter Cambra vnto a prince of Almain called Antenor, of whom those people were called Cimbri and Sycambri. Finally after he had reigned with his brother and alone 26 yeres he died, and after the pagan maner with great pompe was burned.” Lanquet.
[623] On high his temple. N.
[624] With gifts of gold. N.
[625] Brenne ouercame the Macedones with their Duke Sosteme, and after spoyled their goddes and their temples, and sayde in myrth, riche Goddes must geue to men some of their riches. Grafton.
[626] Brought both far and wide. N.
[627] No foes to doubt. N.
[628] Could since be made. N.
[629] One that cride, one cride. N.
[630] T’erect a temple. N.
[631] Was spread a wondrous fame. N.
[632] The answere of deluding sprites the priests do show. N.
[633] The gold of kings and iewels rich were there. N.
[634] Run that doubtfull are. N.
[635] Then. N.
[636] Was with gold so inricht. N.
[637] Courage good nought feare I bid. N.
[638] With Delphos spoile. N.
[639] Stout Euridane and Thessalone I did assay. N.
[640] Did prouide defence. N.
[641] Their foes in face. N.
The Greekes in villages to make them trip
Intreated them to make. N.
[643] Our foes scarce fourteene. N.
[644] Statures all of gold. N.
[645] Stood faire golden. N.
[646] For here the God Apolloe’s pride. N.
[647] Surmounts all Greece beside. N.
[648] Ouerborne. N.
[649] The principal events of this long life of Brennus are also recorded by Grafton and Harding, or may be found in the amusing and copious relation of Fabian. The supernatural discomfiture of his army and occasion of his death is thus related in the Polychronicon. “Efte Brennius tourned agayn oute of the eest countrees: And efte ouercome the Macedoyns and theyr duck Sosten, and spoyled goddes and temples and sayde meryly, that ryche goddes muste gyue men somwhat of her rychesse. Also he spoyled Appolyn Delphicus temple in the hylle mount Pernasus. There men of the countrey prayde helpe of her God, and sodaynly the erthe began to shake and a grete parte of the hylle felle vpon the hooste of Galles; and haylestones slough that other dele. The duc Brennius for sore of his woundes myght not endure, and therefore he slough himself with a sharpe swerde. No man shal wonder though Appolyn toke wreche of hem that spoyled the goddes and the temples: for God suffred Appolyn destroye many nacions by cause of theyr trespaas and euyl lyuyng and dedes. For it is certayn that spirites of the ayer may vse her shrewdnes in them that be mysbyleuyd and euyll of dedes: For grace is wythdrawe from suche maner men and euyl of spirytes haue leue graunted to noye them and to greue them.”
[650] Declare what good. N.
[651] No kingly state. N.
[652] Lofty. ed. 1575.
[653] Sith vertue. ib.
[654] Such praise that all the world giue them applause. N.
[655] “Marcia was right connynge and conde many maner craftes, she made the lawe called Marcene lawe.” Polychronicon.
[656] Or shall I saye, Kimarus I was king. ed. 1575.
[657] Praise the men that vertuous bin. N.
[658] Purpose I to passe did meane to bring. N.
[659] Of Kimarus “there is nothing written, but that he was a wilde and wanton Prince, geuen to all pleasure and pastime, and reigned but thre yeres, beyng slain of his aduersaries as he was a hunting.” Grafton.
[660] The Authoure.
On this Kimarus left me all alone,
And so did Morpheus, then I thought to reste:
But yet againe he came presenting one,
For audience likewise making his requeste,
A worthy prince, he ware a warlike creste:
A blade in hande, he bloudy rusty bore,
Was all his harnesse from his shoulders tore.
His armes and handes were all embrued in bloud,
So was his breste, but all the rest beside
Seemde rayde with matter vyle, or slimy mud,
With red and yelowe as it were bedide:
You scarcely could the sight therof abide:
Yet sith he seemde some worthy wight to be,
It brought by farre lesse squemishnes to me.
[661] Which I do beare. N.
[662] I the dreadfull monster slew. N.
[663] On whom long time did. N.
[664] Till on her wheele’s steepe top she did me bring. N.
[665] Subiected thoughts doth wicked pride suppresse. N.
[666] Without all law as was my lawlesse life. N.
[667] Whom. ed. 1575.
By strokes to find a passage to his life,
But now I found in vaine was all my strife. N.
[669] From scales. ed. 1575.
[670] Seazed. N.
[671] Vs. N.
[672] This fable of the monster is repeated with little if any variation by most writers. “As he (Morindus) wente vppon a tyme by the see side, he mette a grete beste that was blak and horrible, and hidous: and wente that hit had bene a whale of the see: And bente an arweblaste and wolde haue slayn that beste with a quarell, but he myght nought smyte hit. And when he hade shote alle his quarell, the beste anone come to hym in grete haste, and him deuourede alyue, and so he deide.” M. S. Brute.
—— an haplesse falle,
Or God’s reuenge, example take by mee,
And let my death sufficient warning bee. ed. 1575.
The Authoure.
I could not thus departe to take my reste,
For Morpheus bad me byde and heare the last.
(Quoth he) behinde as yet, is one the beste:
“Do stay a whyle, giue eare till he be past,
“And therewithall approtched one full fast,
The worthiest wight I euer erste did see”:
These wordes he spake, or like it seemed mee.
[674] Not in the first edition.
[675] Except the rest of Britaine princes should. N.
[676] The chronicles say six or seuen years, and deposed for his tyranny.
[677] To yex, to have the hiccough. Johnson.
[678] Not in the first edition.
[679] An unwilling dolt.
A drunken sot whose faltering feete do slip,
Must pardon craue, his tongue in talke will trip. N.
[681] Erynnys, i. e. the goddesses that were to search into those men who had committed heinous offences: their names are Megæra, Tisiphone, and Alecto.
[682] Chaung’d in me. N.
[683] Sow, a great lump of melted iron or lead. Bailey.
[684] Not in the first edition.
[685] Also prosper. N.
[686] Yet doth stand. N.
[687] Their. N.
[688] With those that will. N.
[689] Doth spoile the corps. N.
[690] Weaker force to. N.
[691] The like examples. N.
[692] Neuerthelesse. N.
[693] This censure was probably from the circumstance of the deeds and name of Nennius being omitted in the Polychronicon, and by Fabian, Lanquet, Rastell, and Stowe.
As on such tyrants who as bloodie foes,
Vnto their countrey wrought such deadly woes. N.
[695] As for myselfe I doe not. N.
[696] That to the dead these moderne writers doe. N.
[697] Any one of yore. N.
[698] Both tall forraine force in fight. N.
[699] Of their foes may haue. N.
[700] Place height Ely of his name. N. Some, as Camden observes, derive the name of Ely “from Helig, a British word signifying willows or sallows, which it bears in abundance; and indeed they are the only thriving trees here.” Camden’s Britannia.
[701] This stanza omitted by Niccols.
[702] Lanquet, Stowe, Grafton, Flores Histor. Margin of ed. 1575.
——as stories tell,
And fame did beare his name both wide and far. N.
[704] Enlargde them made with. ed. 1575.
[705] Sic. Strong. N.
[706] A place for gates to keepe. ed. 1575.
[707] Foemen. N.
[708] The. ed. 1575.
——these letters he did frame,
Brought by ambassadours which hither came. N.
[710] Pledges. ed. 1575.
[711] This. N.
[712] Require. ed. 1575.
[713] No doubt the Romaines more then half were mad. ed. 1575.
[714] Ile to mee. N.
[715] He fully straight decreed. ed. 1575.
[716] Therefore. ib.
[717] The Britaines eke prepar’d themselues. N.
[718] They. N.
[719] Wee Britaynes then farre deemde. ed. 1575.
[720] To meete him first. ib.
[721] Giue an entry here. ib.
[722] Here. ib.
[723] The enemies t’aband. N.
[724] Straunger. ed. 1575.
[725] Sought the noble Britaines. N.
[726] Not looke on mee. ed. 1575.
[727] The ancient stories. N.
[728] I had. N.
[729] My case haue tride. ed. 1575.
[730] Wounded in fight. N.
[731] Romaines stout their courage lose. N.
[732] A. ed. 1575.
[733] “Upon land Cæsar’s horsemen at the first encounter were vanquished, and Laberius Durus the tribune slaine, in a place now called Cheston wood neare vnto Rochester, as saieth the Chronicle of Wigmore.” Stowe.
[734] Make thee mendes. ib.
[735] Friendship.
[736] For. ib.
[737] “The same [British] historie also maketh mention of one Belinus that was generall of Cassibellane’s armie, and likewise of Nenius brother to Cassibellane, who in fight happened to get Cesar’s swoord fastened in his shield by a blow which Cesar stroke at him. Androgeus also and Tenancius were at the battell in aid of Cassibellane. But Nenius died within 15 daies after the battell of the hurt receiued at Cesar’s hand, although after he was so hurt, he slue Labienus one of the Romane tribunes: all which may well be true, sith Cesar either maketh the best of things for his owne honour, or else coueting to write but commentaries maketh no account to declare the needeful circumstances, or any more of the matter, than the chiefe points of his dealing.” Holinshed.
[738] Behofe. ed. 1575.
[739] The first eight stanzas of the “L’enuoy” form the like number commencing “the Author” in the edition of 1575.
[740] He vanisht with so sweete an heauenly smell. ib.
[741] Me seemde the. ib.
[742] With. ed. 1575.
[743] And mazed. ib.
[744] Which graunted, al they vanisht. ed. 1575.
On this in traunce I lay me thought a while
And musde reioysing. ib.
[746] Knight. ib.
[747] Playne. ib.
[748] Whose vertues so did passe. ib.
[749] As. ib.
[750] Deseruede. ib.
[751] So. ib.
[752] And let your. ib.
[753] The remainder of “the Authour” from the first edition.
But let me nowe retourne againe to tell,
What after this, me chaunst to see and heare.
I trust yee Readers like my dealing well,
In promise that I made, this later yeare.
For sure I thinke, a man farre better were
Not speaks at all, to promese hilles of gold,
And in performance, waxe as key full colde.
I saide (if God sent time, and space therfore)
Ye should receaue from mee (as leysure came)
Of these my simple toyles, a greater store,
And partly you perceaue, how I performe the same.
Such workes, as this my simple muse can frame,
(With all my harte and minde) you freely haue:
As free, as God these giftes me frely gaue.
Wherefore giue eare, now harken well to this:
As to these tunes, I gaue me thought some heede,
In doubte if sences led my mynde amisse,
Or whether [Greek: pathos] me with toyes did feede.
What doth (said Morpheus) now this musing nede?
Art thou so farre orewatcht, thy wittes the fayle?
Or els do fancies more then wit preuayle?
Not so (quoth I) though far the night be past,
And yet me thinkes, I could be well content
To leaue them so (if this were now the last)
So thou therto and Somnus sweete consent:
This noble Nennius well the time hath spent.
I would haue staide, if he had spoken more:
’Twas his departure, troubled me so sore.
(Quoth he) thou must a whyle yet longer byde:
In fewe he shall declare, how he hath sped
That commes. And euen with that I lookt aside,
And sawe a coarse approache without a head.
What now (quoth I) though erste (by thee) the dead
Were causde to speake, declaring all their will,
Yet speach of headlesse men doth passe my skill.
With that gan Morpheus touch him with his mace,
And sodainly an head, on shoulders pight.
For lacke of vse, he could not turne his face,
Or else had Morpheus scarcely set it right.
He had forgotten eke, to turne his sight:
But still he stode his face to set awrye,
And wappering turnid vp his white of eye.
As t’were a dead man, reared vp an end,
Deuoyde of life, and yet a feeling had:
His lippes lay open, grimly ofte hee grend:
With hollowe eyes, full oft he frowned sad,
And bent his browes, and lookte as he were mad:
I sawe not in my life, I thinke his pere:
Nor shall not, if I liue this hundred yeare.
At length he tryde, which way to tell his mynde:
Yet how to speake his tonge had quite forgotte:
Each instrument forgotten had his kinde,
That erste could run at randon and by roate,
But then me thought, with fist his brest hee smote,
The other hande his musing browes did holde:
And as awakte (at laste) this tale he tolde.
[754] Daunce. N.
[755] As. ed. 1575.
[756] Their. ib.
[757] Insteede of cheese to fill thy chaps with chalke. ed. 1575.
I will be briefe and truly tell thee all
The cause why I from graue do now appeare. N.
Let who so stands trust to a stedfast hold,
If stedfast hold he thinke that he may find,
Presume not on thy strength, nay yet be bold
On Fortune’s gifts, nay let her guide thy mind
In hope of hap, for she is counted blind. N.
So bad but we it frame. N.
[761] To done. ed. 1575.
[762] Nephewe. ib.
[763] For feates in armes, for fauour, and for fame. N.
[764] Nephew, ed. 1575.
[765] No, no, be sure. ib.
[766] How seeming friends did prooue my chiefest foes. N.
[767] As. N.
[768] That. N.
[769] Quoth we, by thee did all these Britaines die. N.
[770] Yet darst not. ed. 1575.
[771] Their wounds in flight all scattered. N.
[772] Tongues ioy to light could bring. N.
[773] Our king. N.
[774] Therewith for battaile bent as mad. N.
[775] Our foes foule flight. N.
[776] Seemely there but swordes in sight. ed. 1575.
[777] And men lesse deem’d do giue the conquering stroke. N.
[778] (And turneys.) ed. 1575.
[779] The stanza thus altered by Niccols.
A solemne iusts proclaimed was for those,
Who would to win renowne their valour trie,
Where th’earle of London’s cosin did expose
Himselfe to purchase praise, against whom I
To win the prize did all my powers applie:
But fatall was the scope I did intend,
Th’effects bewray’d my folly in the end.
[780] Fawting eye. ed. 1575. i. e. favouring eye. Their former friendly eie. N.
[781] Their foes to feare. N.
[782] Friends worse then forren. N.
[783] That fall at oddes for fond vaine glorie’s sake. N.
[784] That. ed. 1575.
[785] Wise before it be to late. ed. 1575.
[786] Did foule display. ed. 1575.
[787] He me. ib.
[788] Mens. N.
[789] The common rout. N.
[790] Made my foes to stare. N.
[791] Nothing lesse. ed. 1575.
[792] Not be well therwith. ib.
[793] But rather therfore beare. ed. 1575.
[794] Here the following stanzas occur in the first edition.
To which he aunswerd as despite had spoke,
With hasty wordes and tauntes of hygher peres.
I list not any iote (quoth he) reuoke,
Of that is sayd, ne darste thou for thine eares
(What euer lookes in place thy fauters beares)
Alone to mete me in the field to fraye.
But I may hap (by chaunce) to finde the day,
Wherein thou shalt not beare the price away.
As for the king we doubte if he be heyre,
The kingdome is the Earle of London’s right,
And though that he the prince his person beare
(In his nonage) he ought not reue it quyte,
Ne shall he stay mee if I mynde to fighte.
Then where thou speakst (quoth he) of princes peace,
And wouldst me warne, from furder dealing seace:
Thou better were (perhaps) to holde thy peace.
On which I playnly sayde, highe treason t’was,
So much to speake, against our soueraigne Lorde:
Quoth I, the boundes of modestie you passe,
That dare your case with prince his right accorde:
Your betters would far better wordes auorde,
And you perhaps your selfe so stoute that showe
Which make as though you sought his ouerthrowe,
Shall shortly more his grace his pleasure knowe.
[795] And. ed. 1575.
Thyselfe a traytour rather semest right,
That darste presume amongst thy betters so. ib.
[797] I raught to him. ib.
[798] My frendes likewyse could. ib.
[799] They drew. ib.
[800] We freshly. ib.
[801] They. ed. 1575.
[802] Was. ib.
[803] They. ib.
[804] Wherfore they layde about them francke. ib.
[805] Knight. ib.
[806] Several of the early historians concur in representing that this improvident quarrell, and unexpected rencounter, first enabled Cæsar to establish his landing in Britain, from the assistance afterwards given him by the Earl of London. The following is one of the briefest of the statements:—“It befell thus vpon a day that the gentylmen of the kynge’s housholde and the gentylmen of the Erle’s housholde of London after meet, went togyder for to play. And thrugh debate that arose ymonge them Enelin, that was the Erle’s cosyn of London, slewe Irenglas that was the kynge’s cosyn. Wherfore the kynge swore that Enelyn sholde be hanged. But the Erle of London, that was Enelin’s lorde, wolde not suffer hym. Wherfore the kynge was greatly wroth and vexed towarde the Erle and thought hym to dystroye. And pryuely the Erle sende letters to Julius Cezar, that he sholde come into this lande for to helpe hym, and hym auenge vpon the kynge, and he wolde helpe hym with al his myght. And whan the emperour herde these tydynges he was full glad, and ordeyned a stronge power, and came agayne the thyrde tyme into this lande, and the Erle of London helped hym with viii M. men. And at the thyrde tyme was Cassybolon ouercome and dyscomfyted, and made peas to the Emperour for thre thousande pounde of syluer, yeldynge by yere for truage for this lande for euermore.” Chron. of St. Albans.
[807] Oh that my friend of yore. N.
[808] The edition of 1575 finishes with the life of Lord Irenglas, which Higgins calls the FIRST PART in his concluding lines of
The Author.
With that (me thought) he vanisht quite away:
And I was come to end my worke at last:
Not minding longer on the which to staye,
My penne did trudge to wryte these verses fast.
I trust sith once, they haue the Printer past
That went before: these fragmentes come behinde,
Shall of the Readers, likewyse fauour finde.
So of my first part here I make an ende,
The Seconde parte which I haue now to fyle
Doth call me hence, from these to those to wende:
In which if God send grace to guyde my style,
I shall (I trust) and that in shorter whyle,
Againe retourne, to Printer’s presse with those:
Which shal likewise, their fight and falles disclose.
Till then farewell a thousand times to thee,
Which takst in hand this booke to shun the ill,
That was the fall of these describde by mee,
And haste to mende their faultes a firme good will,
I wishe thy health, increase of vertu still,
Adieu, farewell, I haue but this to say,
God send vs both his heauenly grace for aye.
I. Higgins.
[809] Surely. N.
[810] In brief. N.
[811] Aurelia faire. N.
[812] Morall discipline instruct. N.
——and write the truth,
Of all my noble actions from my youth. N.
[814] The divorce of Henry VIIIth from Q. Katherine is undoubtedly here alluded to by the poet.
[815] That wrought his swift decay. N.
[816] The valiant Galles. N.
[817] Nations which were whilome. N.
[818] My famous warres. N.
[819] Each. N.
[820] That eke. N.
[821] Haue in field of Romane. N.
[822] Both stout. N.
[823] Went. N.
[824] Shippes againe: a wondrous thing. N.
[825] Where hauens be. N
[826] “The Brytons had pyght sharpe stakes in the ryuer of Tamyse there Julius hadde landed, the stakes were grete, shapen as a manne’s thygh and sette about with lede as it is yet seen.” Polychronicon.
[827] When many diu’d the deepe before the land wee won. N.
[828] Being hardly. N.
[829] Come the following yeare. N.
[830] So stubburne. N.
[831] By our power bee ruled. N.
[832] For our second flight with sports. N.
[833] Neither best appeares. N.
[834] Elenine was stout, for. N.
[835] Vntill at length in fight hight Irenglas was slaine. N.
[836] Before the iudge doe doome. N.
[837] To me in France. N.
[838] He also Sceua sent for pledge. N.
[839] His losse in doubtfull war. N.
[840] His people’s base reuoult he chiefly did deplore. N.
[841] I after sent. N.
[842] The warlike Galles. N.
[843] I led my conquering host. N.
[844] But from. N.
[845] Slaine in fight, or more. N.
[846] But either fell in fight, or from the field did flie. N.
[847] For all our. N.
——and sonnes by myght did oft assaye,
When he was done to death. N.
[849] Of cunning skill. N.
[850] He wins immortall fame, thrice blessed is the crowne. N.
[851] The. N.
[852] Was alone. N.
[853] Sole to be. N.
[854] Me many secret. N.
[855] Soueraigne sway. N.
[856] My ruin and decay. N.
[857] Could no thing in state determin’d bee. N.
[858] Enui’d at me that. N.
[859] As hautie Cassius. N.
[860] The chiefest crime. N.
[861] Dispatch and death. N.
[862] Mine acts, my raigne, and. N.
[863] Yet. N.
[864] Fatall tombe. N.
[865] Without the guide of man. N.
[866] A little wren. N.
[867] My fall in slumber, I. N.
[868] Was from earth and. N.
[869] Hand in hand I thought I walkt with. N.
[870] Make me much that morning to mislike. N.
[871] Can void death’s dart when he doth strike. N.
[872] Seekes his life for to betray? N.
[873] Traytor bloodie Brutus. N.
[874] At last I went and there did meet vntimely fate. N.
[875] To senate as I went behold a Roman stood. N.
[876] Euery traytours name. N.
[877] Sought to spill my blood. N.
[878] Presently decreed to execute. N.
[879] I blind wretch supposde. N.
[880] My vnhappie hand. N.
[881] For which I lost my life, as you shall vnderstand. N.
[882] Diuinings true I then did. N.
[883] To warne me of my death the priest did seeke in vaine. N.
[884] I gaue. N.
[885] My cruell foes. N.
[886] Beset me round about. N.
[887] Perceiu’d my death’s approching sting. N.
Yee princes all and noble men beware of pride,
Wracke not the Commonwealth for wealthie kingdome’s sake;
Be warn’d by me that set myselfe the world to guide,
Beware what bloodie warres for rule you vndertake:
Ere three and twentie wounds had made my heart to quake,
How many thousands fell from Pompeyes pride and mine?
How many valiant Knights did loued life resigne? N.
[889] Themselues againe for griefe. N.
[890] For they would neuer yeeld though I did them subdue. N.
[891] Some trauail’d farre away. N.
[892] Loth to stay and see. N.
[893] Swift. N.
[894] On Aphrike’s coasts, and Asia. N.
[895] Also knew. N.
[896] Was nought but glorie. N.
[897] Rule 'mongst men aboue. N.
[898] In mind of. N.
[899] So oft addrest. N.
[900] I iustly deeme. N.
[901] Wounds this sentence long hath stood. N.
[902] Of. N.
[903] All men that in affaires themselues imploy. N.
[904] Doe. N.
[905] But first vnto Augustus what befell.
[906] I was both vnto warre. N.
[907] The Romanes heapt on me all worldly blisse. N.
[908] Best 'mongst them. N.
[909] But otherwise then I had thought it fell. N.
[910] About that time did. N.
[911] Loe now when as the Hebrewes. N.
[912] Fiends. N.
[913] All men called. N.
[914] The priests in enuie brought him vnto me. N.
[915] Wisard ’gainst. N.
[916] Which I belieuing whipt him. N.
[917] They kept three daies with souldiers stout: yet he. N.
[918] Which wheu they heard, they. N.
[919] Say, his corpes was stolne away. N.
—they money taken had;
I write the truth, if any otherwise
Do bring report, account it but vain lies. N.
[921] Punish. N.
[922] To their accusers threaten. N.
[923] I eke Germanicus with poyson slew. N.
[924] But mine owne selfe who did abuse my place. N.
[925] Caligula at last did poyson me. N.
In throne on earth a prince as God doth sit,
And as a God no iustice should omit. N.
[927] Of foul lust incest. N.
Which mine owne seruants loathing at the last,
With their owne hands my timelesse death did hast. N.
[929] The princely rote no tyrant thoughts can hide. N.
Guiderius was my name, the sonne of yore,
Of noble Cimbaline, and after king:
The Romane tribute I would pay no more. N.
I stoutly did deny what they did claime,
Though many counseld me to yeeld the same. N.
By force and fraude proud Cæsar heere did raigne,
But now by might my right I would maintaine. N.
Amongst his men, a Captaine stout he had,
With whom in fight I made my party good;
Hamonius men him cal’d, who for his blade
In single fight so often I withstood:
At last did worke a wile to shed my blood. N.
He marcht with vs as he a friend had been,
And when we came to fight he shew’d a face
Of comfort and bold courage ’gainst his men:
And when they fled, and we pursu’d the chace,
Pursue (quoth he) the Romans flie apace,
In British tongue he cride, they flie, they flie,
Our hostages had taught him so to crie. N.
[935] His. N.
Thus by deceits my life hee did confound,
Of my decay this was the fatall ground:
Which thou must pen that I a miror be,
For men to shun the sleights of trecherie. N.
[937] The Cronycle of Englande, and also Gaufride, say that in the hoost of the Romaynes was a Capitayne named Hame or Hamon, the whiche entendyge hurte & destruccyon of the Brytons, chaunged his shelde or Armure and dydde vpon hym the armoure of a Brytayne, and by that meane as a Bryton mysclad, he entred into the thyckest of the hoost, and lastly vnto the place where as kynge Guyderius faught, and shortly after slewe the kynge. But Aruiragus seynge this sodayne myschyef, to the ende that the Brytons shulde nat gyue backe, he hastely causyd hymselfe to be armyd with the cognisaunce of the kynge, and so for kynge contynued the fyght with suche manhode that the romaynes were put to flyght.—Aruiragas, brother to Guyderius, before slayne, wes ordeyned kynge of Brytons, in the yere of our Lord xliiii. This in the Englysshe booke is named Armager, the whiche, as there is shewed, well and knyghtley maynteyned the warre agayne the Romaynes, and after slewe the forenamed Hamo nere vnto an Hauen or port of the see, and hym, so slayne, threwe Gobet meale into the same see. For this skyll was this Hauen longe tyme called Hamon’s Hauen, which at this daye is called Southampton. Fabian.
[938] By treason vile deserues a shrowding sheete of shame. N.
[939] So well they say, I thinke. N.
[940] Tell thee heere what. N.
[941] Expresse the madnesse of my mind. N.
[942] But also me in ire a monster. N.
[943] Nor fully compleat fram’d. N.
[944] Oft in anger me defam’d. N.
[945] Blood and high descent was. N.
[946] The supreame throne. N.
[947] The bloodie Senate. N.
[948] Determining in minde t’ abolish. N.
[949] Ancient linage. N.
[950] They could, they thought. N.
[951] But still by our proud raigne were. N.
[952] I myselfe had hid. N.
[953] Loe from a place obscure. N.
[954] Forth, by force. N.
[955] I seem’d in heart. N.
Eke t’ obtaine th’ Emperiall place,
Whereby the warriers stout were vnto me inclin’de,
Supposing I was meeke, and of a gentle mind. N.
[957] The wilie wolfe that seekes to slay the silly sheepe. N.
[958] Oft times to beare. N.
[959] The craftie fox likewise would. N.
[960] If that he do perceiue the mastiue lying by. N.
[961] The Crocodile in Nile will faine. N.
[962] Wolfe, foxe, and Crocodile. N.
[963] Could wisely faine. N.
[964] Charge forme too great. N.
[965] Well in mind I wist. N.
[966] Not me by force thereof defeate. N.
[967] They had no power to stay me. N.
[968] But after I was thron’d, I gaue. N.
[969] To sport, and bellie chere. N.
[970] And foolish fearefull. N.
[971] Who Messalina hight. N.
[972] The cuckold’s horne. N.
[973] They did seeme t’ abhor the fact. N.
[974] Or if that men with her adulterate would not be. N.
[975] Some famous crime. N.
[976] For which not they. N.
[977] My houshold seruants were prefer’d in place by me. N.
[978] Her for to be. N.
[979] No more with women for to wed. N.
[980] My vicious wiues. N.
[981] Whoredome vile to violate my bed.
[982] But blind at length with folly from my vow I fled. N.
[983] And Agrippina hight, my. N.
[984] And lothsome sinne. N.
[985] Riot, drinking, cards and dice. N.
[986] Skilfull was by practise growne therein. N.
[987] That I of dicing arte did write a worke. N.
[988] May full well declare. N.
Growne old in all my deeds, so credulous was I.
That in each doubtfull place I had some secret spie. N.
[990] So bloodie was I growne, that euery light offence. N.
[991] Cause enough. N.
[992] I so forgetfull was, and such. N.
[993] I would enquire for those that causde my former griefe. N.
[994] For Messalina faire, of late. N.
[995] Others dead I would enquire again. N.
[996] As I in rage before commanded to be slaine. N.
[997] I fondly did extoll. N.
[998] Adorning their degrees with titles. N.
[999] Euen such as seruants were and seru’d. N.
[1000] Amongst the ancient men in senate often sate. N.
[1001] For which the Romans me vnto the death did hate. N.
[1002] Cruell deeds and beastly. N.
[1003] That I their prince were dead. N.
[1004] My Agrippina perswaded me t’adopt her hopefull sonne. N.
[1005] That after my decease the. N.
[1006] When too soone at length. N.
[1007] Her vniust request. N.
[1008] The deadly poyson. N.
[1009] Whereof at last I di’d. N.
[1010] Which as a mirour heere to thee I do commend. N.
[1011] My mother Agrippine so wrought for me. N.
[1012] One man had me for bride and for bride-wife. N.
[1013] Of all they had. N.
[1014] With life to scape. N.
[1015] Waues. N.
[1016] Experience and the prouerbs. N.
[1017] Each tide his flowe. N.
[1018] Went for to destroy. N.
[1019] Mine outrage they no longer could endure. N.
[1020] To saue my selfe away by night I steale. N.
[1021] Which in the ditches stanke. N.
[1022] At my request my friend would me not kill. N.
[1023] Yet. N.
[1024] So mine owne sword I ran quite through my hart. N.
[1025] Euill. N.
[1026] I sought by death to post proud Nero hence. N.
[1027] Although his vice were made the chiefe pretence. N.
[1028] A thing indeed that. N.
[1029] In purple gore oft yeeldes like gainfull good. N.
[1030] The wolfe of wolfe no friendship doth refuse. N.
[1031] The crafty foxe the foxe for friend doth chuse. N.
[1032] As well the shape as qualities of minde. N.
[1033] One loues soft musick and sweet melodie. N.
[1034] For Neroe’s crue. N.
[1035] With. N.
[1036] To seeke reuenge for Neroe’s death. N.
[1037] Souldiers all I. N.
I cast about and many waies did trie
With prudent fore cast to preuent all ill. N.
[1039] Bereft. N.
[1040] Fortune was wont in state to lift her children high. N.
[1041] Fall adowne againe. N.
[1042] Those that haue renowne. N.
[1043] Amongst the states of men, best is the meaner sort. N.
[1044] A mightie man doe. N.
And yet with men as great doe daily liue in strife,
His pleasure is but paine, and all his ioy but griefe:
When we not with our own contented can abide,
With auarice we clime, but fall againe with pride. N.
[1046] I came, had won before. N.
[1047] In fruitfull Westmerlande. N.
[1048] Londricus “landed with a great nauy in the prouince of Albania, now called Scotland, and there vnmercifully he began to spoyle the country, with sworde and fire: whereof when Marius was warned, he in all haste assembled his knightes and people, and made towardes them, and gaue them a strong battaile, in the which Londricus was slaine, and a great part of his people ouerthrowne. In the remembraunce of which victorie, King Marius caused a great stone to be erected, and commaunded therein to be grauen these woordes, Marii Victoria, that is, the victory of Marius. This battaile, as the English Chronicle sayth, was foughten at a place which is called Stanes Moore. But wheresoeuer this stone is set, the countrie thereabout was long after called Westmarie, and is nowe called Westmerland.” Grafton.
[1049] As she before had done. N.
[1050] The certaine truth. N.
[1051] By Fortune false with death so dearely bought. N.
[1052] She sometimes sets vp. N.
As I that thought this land from Britaines to regaine,
In field with all my Picts were vanquished and slaine. N.
[1054] Their happie fate. N.
[1055] For vnto change of chaunce subiected is their state. N.
[1056] She enriched well. N.
[1057] And vnresisted to. N.
[1058] Take. N.
[1059] Against the law of arms. N.
[1060] Fit we found to worke our harmes. N.
[1061] King Artebane we did subdue in fight. N.
[1062] Slew his men that did with stand. N.
[1063] Mappes. N.
[1064] Rome honour’d mee. N.
[1065] Geta far more mild. N.
[1066] To rule my sonnes, I was vnblest. N.
[1067] Despite, and auarice. N.
[1068] Be. N.
[1069] My. N.
[1070] Probably a line of this stanza was dropt at the press.
[1071] My wicked children sought my death. N.
That by my death the empire he might sway,
T’obtaine the same he often gaue th’assay. N.
[1073] To Britaine ouer seas from Rome went I. N.
[1074] And tame the stout that tribute did denie. N.
[1075] So in throne to raigne. N.
[1076] Reape our tribute. N.
[1077] In league with them. N.
[1078] I made edict. N.
[1079] Sixe score miles and twelue. There was some error of the press in this number. According to Lanquet, it should be five score and twelve, while the Polychronicon, which appears to be the poet’s authority, says, “he made a walle in Brytayne that stretcheth six score myle and tweyne vnto the see.”
[1080] Fulgentius stout without delay. N.
[1081] To Scythia sail’d, and there his chance did tell. N.
[1082] And with an host of Picts. N.
[1083] And vnsure. N.
[1084] A wall an hundred mile. N.
[1085] Our ancient race (as I can shew with skill.) N.
[1086] Ioue’s. N.
[1087] Their foule sin. N.
As God did make the zones hot, milde, and cold,
So did he make like men the same to hold. N.
[1089] Is no fit clime, whence man should. N.
[1090] As they do vse. N.
[1091] But of proud Rome’s Seuerus. N.
[1092] Made to keepe me out. N.
[1093] And taking land. N.
[1094] The cries and shouts of men to skies resound. N.
[1095] I made my way. N.
[1096] Where with my Picts the Parthique I did stay. N.
For as I conquest sought,
With my life blood the conquest deare was bought. N.
[1098] Gifts. N.
[1099] Do. N.
[1100] Germanie. N.
[1101] I fauour had, and liu’d belou’d alway. N.
[1102] Appointed it my right. N.
[1103] Iustice had from N.
[1104] But gaue an end to causes. N.
[1105] Le stories tell if I do faine in this. N.
[1106] In warres as stout, but. N.
[1107] I not opprest the weaker sort. N.
[1108] Pleasure all, both. N.
[1109] But brother’s treason caused all our ill. N.
[1110] Hight Antonine. N.
[1111] Was, as may appeare. N.
[1112] To kill. N.
[1113] That so by them his sire might poisoned bee. N.
[1114] This when our sire Seuerus wist and saw. N.
[1115] That bloodie beast was bent. N.
[1116] Perswading vs true concord for to hold. N.
[1117] Oft. N.
[1118] T’enlarge his power for th’empire him addrest. N.
[1119] Pursuing warre: neere Yorke. N.
[1120] I was foretold my life. N.
[1121] Apart from his, that did my death deuise. N.
[1122] My seruants were allur’d. N.
[1123] By poison to procure my life’s decay. N.
Because they would not to his will be wrought,
To bring them vnto death he daily sought. N.
[1125] In danger I was forst. N.
[1126] Not long to wrecke. N.
That in the euen he came to spill my blood,
As I vnarmed with my mother stood. N.
[1128] She him besought. N.
[1129] Fates. N.
[1130] Antonine that wretch. N.
[1131] Now maist thou deeme. N.
[1132] He to his sire of sonnes was most vnkind. N.
[1133] What monster wrought his faithfull friends such woe. N.
[1134] Throng.
[1135] Their deathes my wicked heart could glad. N.
[1136] And some who did my trecherie disclose. N.
[1137] All my friends I sought to make. N.
[1138] To forsake. N.
[1139] To which in shew I granted N.
[1140] Perceiue then one alone. N.
[1141] I said, I should by foes be forc’d to die. N.
[1142] All resorted to my tent. N.
[1143] Our foe is slaine. N.
[1144] I promist if the soldiers me would saue. N.
[1145] Should haue. N.
[1146] At large in that one day. N.
[1147] Seuerus treasure I did make away. N.
[1148] The souldiers all perceiuing well my mind. N.
[1149] By them the Emperour. N.
[1150] Ill. N.
[1151] My brother’s house and fame I did deface. N.
[1152] Coach. N.
[1153] Cau’lling. N.
[1154] So that few men. N.
[1155] Could with like strength such weightie burthens beare. N.
[1156] With eie to view. N.
[1157] Giue her me to wife. N.
[1158] To vse their hand. N.
[1159] The king scarse scap’d. N.
[1160] Of all wise men. N.
[1161] What he did write againe. N.
[1162] To campe. N.
[1163] The sword at length shall iustly shed his bloud. N.
[1164] There are some lines by Turbervile, entitled: 'The author here declareth why he wrote these histories, and forewente the translation of the learned poet, Lucan.’
[1165] This seems as if Blenerhasset thought Lord Buckhurst and Sackville different persons!
[1166] Neither the printer’s address, author’s epistle, or any of the prose inductions, are inserted in the edition of 1610.
[1167] Not in the edition 1610; Higgins having inserted a life of Guidericus among the additions to Part I. after the appearance of the above by Blener-Hasset. See p. 286.
[1168] How Carassvs a hvsbandman’s sonne, and after King of Britaine, was slaine in battell by Alectus a Roman, Anno Dom. 293. N.
[1169] Picts. N.
[1170] And did so far preuaile. N.
[1171] To bring the barbarous Picts. N.
[1172] of th’ armed Picts. N.
[1173] Rome. N.
[1174] The Picts preuented of their wished pray. N.
[1175] For his gray grotes. N.
[1176] The end of th’act. N.
[1177] Bred such sterne debate. N.
[1178] Our author, in the Epistle to his Friend, (see p. 350,) describes himself to have been “altogether destitute” of books, and that his memory and invention, or diligence, were forced to supply the place of chronicles. Any attempt, therefore, to trace the supposed authorities seems useless if not irrelevant; and where errors of fact are discovered they must probably be considered excusable, from the peculiar disadvantages under which the work was composed. Thus the beauty of queen Helena, her piety, skill in music, and knowledge of the liberal arts, added to the presumption of her having founded seventy colleges, too firmly established her fame to make it doubtful that the remembrance of her might be “smothered with oblivion.” (See the Chronicle of St. Alban’s, Geoffery of Monmouth, Grafton, &c.) Neither is the “little report of the chronicles,” in another respect, inconsequential. Several of them agree in her having, at an advanced period of life, at the instigation of her son Constantine the great, travelled to Jerusalem for the purpose of seeking for the HOLY CROSS, and having fortunately discovered it. And hence is supposed to originate the name of St. Helena in the Roman Calendar, and the festival held May the third, called “the Invention of the Cross.” Later writers have placed the birth-place of Saint Helena in Bythinia.
[1179] How Qveene Helena of Britaine married Constantivs the Emperour, and much aduanced the Christian faith through the whole world, An. Dom. 289. N.
[1180] So. N.
[1181] They. N.
[1182] Heere at your commaund. N.
[1183] Grace. N.
[1184] Shape. N.
[1185] Misprint for land. It was not altered by Niccols.
[1186] A. N.
[1187] Anno Dom. 446. N.
[1188] Hauens some with forewinds haue. N.
[1189] Choakt. N.
[1190] One. N.
[1191] One. N.
[1192] The barbarous Picts, with speede themselues addrest. N.
[1193] Picts. N.
[1194] The poet has studiously avoided naming the young and beautiful Rowena, and has also neglected, or forgot, to avail himself of depicting the amusing incident of her introducing the wassail bowl, though repeated in several of the chronicles. The following description is from one of the earliest authorities. “And whenne nyghte come, that the kyng shude gone into his chambre, for to take ther his nyghtes reste, Ronewen, that was Engestis doughter, come with a coupe of golde in here hande, and knelede before the kyng, and said to him: “Whatsail.” And the kyng wiste nought what it was to mene, ne what he shulde answere: for as moche as him selfe, ne none of his brutons, yette couthe none englisshe speke, ne vnderstonde hit, but speken tho that same langage that brutons yet done: na the lees a latymere tolde the kyng the ful vnderstandyng ther of whatsaill; and that that other shulde answere: “Drynk, haill.” And that was the firste tyme that “whatsaill,” and “drinke haill,” comen vp in this lande; and frame that tyme into this tyme hit hath bene wel vsede. The kyng Vortiger sawe the fairenesse of Ronewenne, and his armes laide aboute hire nek, and thrise swetely he kissed hire; and anone right he was anamerede of hire, and he desirede to haue hire to his wife, and axede of Engeste hire fadere, and Engeste grauntede, vpon this couenaunt, that the kyng shulde yeue him all the cuntre of Kente that he myght dwelle in and alle his peple. The kyng him graunted preuely with a good wille. And anone after he spousede the damysell that was moche confusion to himselfe: and therfore all the brutons becomen so wrothe for encheson that he had spousede a woman of mysbileue wherfore thai wente alle fro him and no thing to him toke kepe, ne helpe him in thinges that he hadd to done.” MS. Brute.
[1195] Queene. N.
[1196] Sic.
[1197] Bereaue vs of. N.
[1198] How Vter Pendragon was inamovred on the wife of Gorolus Duke of Cornewall, whom he slew, and after was poisoned by the Saxons, Anno Dom. 500.
[1199] That wounds my fame, which now too late I rew. N.
[1200] There in the church. N.
[1201] Misprint for Cirens. Syrens. N.
[1202] Ut sup. Syrens. N.
[1203] I learn’d with losse of my renowne at last. N.
[1204] Like basiliske doth spoile the gazing wight. N.
[1205] I sent the duke away to warres in haste. N.
[1206] This stanza wants the fifth line in the original edition.
[1207] Niccols substituted the following lines in place of the eighteenth and nineteenth stanzas.
[Vnconquered beautie whence had’st thou that power
To make stout Vter stoope to his owne shame,
That neuer stoopt to foes? why for that flower
Of sweete delight in Igren, that faire dame,
Did I forgoe the golden flower of fame?
Victorious beautie and base yeelding lust
Did cast great Vter’s conquests in the dust.
Yet no such blame as writers do record
Do I deserue for this vnhappie deed
Proud Gorolus, the bright-cheekt Igren’s lord,
Receiu’d no wrong but his owne merits meed,
When in the field I made his heart to bleed,
If thoughts of treason merit death and shame,
His trecherous deeds did well deserue the same.
His gracelesse treason he in act did show,
For when I sent him to Nathaliod hight,
In bloodie field against the Saxon foe,
He swolne in heart with enuie and despight
Of his associates good, did leaue the fight,
And leauing stout Nathaliod for a pray
Vnto the foes, from field he fled away.
By which enforc’d I was with Mars to rise
From Venus’ bed, and arme me for the field,
Where like a storme in thunder clad from skies,
Vpon my foes I fell, they could not shield
Themselues from death, few scap’t that did not yeeld:
Occa and Ossa both I downe did bring,
And led them captiue like a conquering king.
Againe I then gan thinke vpon my loue,
Vpon mine Igren deare, against whose lord
I finding cause, for that he late did proue
Faithlesse to me, did with my lust accord
’Gainst him, as ’gainst my foe to draw my sword,
Whom by his castle called Dunilioc,
I slew with blade in battailes bloodie stroke.
Then did I take mine Igren as mine owne
And crown’d her queene in my emperiall chaire,
On whom great Arthur I begot anone:
And after him my Anna hight the faire,
In seeming blisse I long liu’d void of care,
For thrice nine yeares with Igren I did raigne,
And ’gainst the Saxons did my state maintaine.
But for the rape of Gorolus his wife,
The heauens did powre down vengeance on my head,
I by vntimely death did end my life,
My sad soule hence enforc’d by poison fled,
By Saxons wrought, who often wish’d me dead,
And left behind for all my deeds of fame
Iust cause for writers’ pens to speake my shame.] N.
[1208] How Cadwallader the last king of the Britaines was expelled by the Saxons, went to Rome, and there liued in a religious house. N.
[1209] Grizlie. N.
[1210] And the Medes. N.
[1211] Misprinted “farce,” ed. 1578.
[1212] Misprinted “doth dayly dothe,” 1578.
[1213] How Sigebert for his wicked life was thrust from his throne, and miserablie slaine by a heardsman. Anno Dom. 755.
[1214] Leache, ed. 1578.
[1215] Mine. N.
[1216] Misprinted “would haue drownde,” ed. 1578.
[1217] Truth. N.
[1218] My poorer soule who drownd doth death request. N.
[1219] Lamenting. N.
[1220] And night the earth did with her darkenesse vaile. N.
[1221] O wicked deed, may. N.
[1222] Or. N.
[1223] Anno Dom. 870. N.
[1224] An. 870. Saint Ebbe, Abbesse of Coldingham, vi miles north from Berwike, cut off her nose and vpperlip, and perswaded all her sisters to do the like, that they being odible to the Danes, might the better keepe their virginity; in despite whereof the Danes burned the abbey and the nuns therein. Stowe.
[1225] The complaint of Alurede, or Alfred, is omitted by Niccols.
[1226] “Aluredus was fayre of shappe, and more loued of fader and moder than his other bretheren, and dwellyd in his fader’s courte to the yere of his age twelue, and was not yet lettred. Yet after that the chylde lerned ryght well and helde Saxon poesye in mynde.” Polychronicon.
[1227] “Guttrun, kynge of Danes, was crystned, and twenty of the grettest that were wyth hym, the whyche kynge Alfredus receyued of the colde water, and yaue him a name, and callyd hym Adelstan. Therfore to kyng Guttrun, that we calle Gurmundus, were yeuen the prouynces of Eest Angles, and of Northumberlonde, for to dwelle ynne. But for the blewe man chaungeth not lyghtly his skynne. This Guttrun destroyed the londes wyth tyrannye and wyth pryde enleuen yere and dyede the twellyfth yere. The other Danys that wolde not be crysten wente in to Fraunce.” Polychronicon.
[1228] Stowe describes him as a “victorious prince, the studious prouider for widowes, orphanes, and poore people, most perfect in Saxon poetrie, most liberall, endued with wisedome, fortitude, iustice, and temperance, the most patient bearer of sicknesse, wherewith he was dailie vexed, a most discrete searcher of trueth in executing iudgement, and a most vigilant and deuout prince in the seruice of God.” Chronicle.
[1229] Sic.
[1230] “He auentred hym to translate the sawtre into Englissh, but he translated vnneth the fyrste parte before his deth. Whan he come to age and wolde stable his herte and his thought in goddes heestes, and lechery of his flesshe greuyd hym and lette hym ofte tyme, therfore to putte awaye temptacyon of flesshely lykynge, he wente and vysyted ofte temples of hooly sayntes erly and late, and at cokkes crowynge, and prayed God that he wolde chastyse his flesshe with suche a sekenes that he shold not be vnprouffytable to wordly dedes, and that he myght the more frely serue God Almyghty. At Godde’s ordenaunce he hadde many yere the euyll called Fycus.” Polychronicon.
[1231] “He established good lawes, by the which he brought so great a quietnesse to the country, that men might haue hanged golden bracelets and iewels, where the waies parted, and no man durst touch them for feare of the lawe. He caried euer the psalter in his bosome, that when he had any leasure he might read it ouer with diligence.” Stowe.
[1232] “This Alured regnede xxx yeere and a good kyng had bene and wel couthe chastise his enemyes for he was a good clerk and lete make meney bokes and oo[one] boke he made of Englisshe of auentures of kynges and of batailes that hadde bene done in the londe and many other bokes of gestes he lete ham write that were of grete wisdome and of good lernyng thurz whiche bokes meny men may hamamende that wille ham rede and vppon loke: vppon whos soule Almighti God haue mercy and this kyng Alured lith atte Wynchestre.” MS. Brute.
[1233] Anno Dom. 1016. N.
[1234] Doe. N.
[1235] My mind enclined to ill, did spoile my hart. N.
[1236] “Egelredus, Edgar’s sone bigoten on his seconde wyfe Elfrytha, was made kyng after his elder broder Edwarde, at Kyngeston. He was a fayr knyghte and a louely. Eyghte and thyrty yere he byseged the kyngdome more verely than ruled it: for the cours of his lyfe was cruell and vngracyous in the begynnynge, wretched in the myddyll, and fowle in the ende.” Polychronicon.
[1237] In all impietie. N.
[1238] All, my foes the dreadfull Danes. N.
[1239] “The Danes came in to euery hauen of Englonde, so that me wyst not where me myght mete hem. Therfore men myghte not putt hem away wyth yren and put hem away wyth syluer. And payed hem the fyrst yere x. M. li. by counseyle of Sirycus that was archbysshop next after Dunstan. And the second yere xvi. M. li. the thyrd yere xx. M. li. the fourth yere xxiiii. M. li. the fifth yere xxx. M. li. at last xl. M. li. tyll all the money faylled.” Polychronicon.
[1240] Sure a footing. N.
[1241] Will bring thy fomen downe. N.
[1242] “Etheldrede, kyng of Englande, toke to wife Emma, the sister of Richard Duke of Normandie: which for her beautie was called the flower of Normandie. Anno 998.” Lanquet.
[1243] “Egelrede, king of England, being greatly enhanced in his own mind, for the mariage of the duke’s sister of Normandy, sent forth into all partes of his realm secret and straict commissions, charging the rulers, that vpon a certain daye and houre assigned, the Danes (which proudly vsed gret crueltie in the land) shold be sodeinly slaine. And so was it done, which thing was after cause of great miserie.” Lanquet.
[1244] Did here. N.
[1245] “In processe of tyme the Danys were voyded the lande. This worde lorde Dane was, in dyrision and despyte of the Danys, tourned by the Englysshemen into a name of opprobrie, and called Lurdayn, whiche, to our dayes, is nat forgoten; but whan one Englisshe man woll rebuke an other, he woll, for the more rebuke, call hym Lurdayn.” Fabyan.
[1246] How Edricvs Earle of Mercia, destroyed the valiant king Edmvnd Ironside, in hope of aduancement, and how he was rewarded, Anno Dom. 1018. N.
[1247] “This Edmunde Irensides and Knoughte [Canute] werred strongely togedres, but at the laste thei were acorded in this maner that thei shulde departe the reaume betuene ham, and so thei deden: and after thei becomen sworn brotherne and so wel loueden togedere as thei hadde be bretherne geten of o [one] bodie and o [one] moder borne.” M. S. Brute.
[1248] The manner of Edrith effecting his treachery is variously related. In the MS. Brute he is said to have invited the monarch to a banquet, “and whenne nyghte come that he shulde gone to bedde the kyng toke his owene mayne and wente into a chambre, and as he lokede aboute he sawe a wondere faire ymage and wel made and in semblant as hit were an archere with a bowe bente in his hande, and in the bowe a fyne arwe. Kyng Edmunde wente tho nere to beholde hit bettere what it might bene, and a none as his honde touchede the arwe anone the arwe him smote thrugh the bodie and ther slough the kyng; for that engine was made to quelle his owene lorde treytoursly.” M. S. Brute.
[1249] Hent. N.
[1250] How king Harold raigning bvt nine moneths, had continuall warre with the Danes, with the Norway king, with his brother Tostivs, and was at last slaine in battell by William the Conqueror, An. Dom. 1095. N.
My men of warre were mustred out of hand,
But all my haste was then of none auaile:
My brother Tostius with his rebell band,
In euery place my subiects did assaile,
And euery where did cause their hearts to quaile:
Whose wretched state from farther spoile to shield,
I by my power did force him flie the field.
He fled to Norway whence a cloud did rise
That did obscure the shine of my content,
When loe the Norman duke did then deuise,
If I to yeeld my scepter would assent,
For which betwixt vs to and fro there went
Despightfull letters, which I will recite,
Wherein he claimes, and I defend my right. N.
[1252] Be. N
[1253] Thence. N.
[1254] Tostius. N.
[1255] My. N.
[1256] I arm’d in haste all danger to auoid. N.
[1257] Tostius. N.
[1258] Earles had in the north destroy’d. N.
[1259] My wounded men were wearie. N.
[1260] Know the plot where he his campe. N.
[1261] I with loude voice to them these words did say. N.
[1262] Your king. N.
[1263] Might then preuaile. N.
[1264] Prefer, N.
[1265] Smart. N.
[1266] Ill. N.
[1267] Sustain’d, and felt that pinching paine. N.