Alfonso, willing to giue end to armes,
For well he knew Grinuile would neuer yeild,
Able his power stoode like vnnumbred swarmes,
Yet daring not on stricter tearmes to build,
He offers all what may alay their harmes
Safetie of liues, nor any thrall to weild,
Free from the Gallie, prisonment, or paine,
And safe returne vnto their soyle againe
To this he yeelds, as well for his own sake,
Whom desperate hazard might indamage sore,
As for desier the famous Knight to take,
Whom in his hart he seemed to deplore,
And for his valure halfe a God did make,
Extolling him all other men before,
Admiring with an honourable hart,
His valure, wisdome, and his Souldiours Art.
With peacefull newes the Maister backe returns,
And rings it in the liuing remnants eares,
They all reioyce, but Grinuile deadly mourns,
He frets, he sighs, he sorrowes and despaires,
Hee cryes, this truce, their fame and blisse adiourns,
He rents his locks, and all his garments teares,
He vowes his hands shall rent the ship in twaine
Rather then he will Spanish yoke sustaine.
The few reseru'd, that life esteem'd too well,
Knowing his words were warrants for his deede,
Vnkindly left him in that monstrous hell,
And fled vnto Alfonso with greate speede,
To him their Chieftaines mightines they tell,
And how much valure on his soule doth feede,
That if preuention, not his actions dim,
Twill be too late to saue the shyp or him.
Bassan made proude, vnconquering t'ouer-come,
Swore the brave Knight nor ship he would not lose,
Should all the world in a petition come:
And therefore of his gallants, fortie chose
To board Sir Richard, charging them be dombe
From threatning words, from anger, and from bloes,
But with all kindnes, honor, and admire
To bring him thence, to further Fames desire.
Sooner they boarded not the crazed Barke,
But they beheld where speechlesse Grinuile lay,
All smeard in blood, and clouded in the darke,
Contagious curtaine of Deaths tragick day;
They wept for pittie, and yet silent marke
Whether his lungs sent liuing breath away,
Which when they sawe in ayrie blasts to flie,
They striu'd who first should stanch his misery.
Anon came life, and lift his eye-lids vp,
Whilst they with teares denounce their Generals wil,
Whose honord mind sought to retort the cup
Of deaths sad poyson, well instruckt to kill;
Tells him what fame and grace his eyes might sup
From Bassans kindnes, and his Surgions skill,
Both how he lou'd him, and admir'd his fame,
To which he sought to lend a liuing flame.
Aye mee (quoth Grinuile) simple men, I know
My bodie to your Generall is a pray,
Take it, and as you please my lyms bestow,
For I respect it not, tis earth and clay:
But for my minde that mightier much doth grow,
To heauen it shall, despight of Spanish sway.
He swounded, and did neuer speake againe.
This said, orecome with anguish and with paine,
They took him vp, and to theyr Generall brought
His mangled carkasse, but vnmaimed minde,
Three dayes hee breath'd, yet neuer spake he ought,
Albe his foes were humble, sad, and kinde;
The fourth came downe the Lambe that all souls bot,
And his pure part, from worser parts refind,
Bearing his spirite vp to the loftie skyes,
Leauing his body, wonder to wonders eyes.
When Bassan saw the Angell-spirite fled,
Which lent a mortall frame immortall thought,
With pittie, griefe, and admiration led,
He mournfully complaind what Fat's had wrought.
Woe me (he cryes) but now aliue, now dead,
But now inuincible, now captiue brought:
In this, vniust are Fat's, and Death declared,
That mighty ones, no more than meane are spared.
You powers of heauen, rayne honour on his hearse,
And tune the Cherubins to sing his fame,
Let Infants in the last age him rehearse,
And let no more, honour be Honor's name:
Let him that will obtaine immortall vearse,
Conquer the stile of Grinuile to the same,
For till that fire shall all the world consume,
Shall neuer name, with Grinuile name presume.
Rest then deere soule, in thine all-resting peace,
And take my teares for tropheys to thy tombe,
Let thy lost blood, thy vnlost fame increase,
Make kingly eares thy praises second wombe:
That when all tongues to all reports surcease,
Yet shall thy deeds, out-liue the day of doome,
For even Angels, in the heasens shall sing,
Grinuile vnconquered died, still conquering.
O ælinam.