They meane as there no long delayes to make,

But _Bacchus’_ comely carpites so do please,

Such courtly caues, such mirth, such quiet ease

They haue, that they to _Venus_ them betake,

The wearye wayes of vertue they forsake:

Those trustlesse traynes from dolor, and disease,

Doubtlesse do come to drowne in surging seas

Of secrete smarte, those which do them delight:

Flee thou therfore this courte, with speedy spight.

7.

From pleasure’s place, when thou shalt turne thy face,

The high may then discretion wil thee shewe

To vertue’s lodge, which thou right well mayst know

By such as dwell about that pleasaunt place:

A hundred vertues raunging on a rowe,

Thou there shalt see, how fame her trumpe doth blowe,

For greate exploytes: where when thou art renownde,

Then fame thy name through all the world shal sounde.

8.

And when thou hast obtainde that place with payne,

There is no doubt desert will honour haue,

Which being had, beware that waltering waue

Of wordly lust, which vertue doth disdayne,

Beware least thou thy former deedes doost staine:

For he who could himself from sinning saue,

He seeking that which most his minde did craue:

Which being founde, his feeble feet dooe faynt,

And strayght he doth with sinne himselfe acquaynt.

9.

When man hath most of that he doth desire,

Then most the fleshe doth force the soule to sinne,

The ende doth proue how wel we do beginne:

For he who doth from vertue’s lore retire,

His wretched ende doth make the worlde admire:

Let him therfore which will the garlond winne,

Euen to the end auoyde the hatefull ginne

Which Satan sets, with traynes of tastlesse bayte,

The glosse whereof prognosticates desayght.

10.

What gayne is got by him who runnes in hast,

If that his stumbling feete do make delay?

An other man doth beare the price away,

He got no game, one fall hath hym defast:

Euen so that man from fame is quite displaste,

If once his feete in vice’s steppes do stay,

As may appeare by me, and my decay:

For once I slipt, one vice did me deface,

One onely vice did _Alurede_ disgrace.

11.

I the fourth sonne of _Ethelwolfus_ king,

Twice tenne and eight I wore the _Saxon_ crowne,

For martial feates I had a greate renowne,

My gouernaunce was good in euery thing,

I rulde my realme to euery man’s liking,

My stature tall, my face did neuer frowne,

My learning did deserue a lawrell crowne,[1226]

My wisedome and my iustice purchast fame,

My courage bolde dyd much extoll the same.

12.

In seuen conflictes I did the _Danes_ destroy,

But more ariude which did me more molest,

Yet they likewise were by my meanes destrest:

But when my strength their strength could not destroy,

I did deuise a pretty pleasant toy,

By meanes whereof my _Saxon_ soyle was bleste:

Amidst my fone I minstrel like did ieste,

I playd the part of _Scoggin Skelton’s_ mate,

Transformde, I trudgde about from gate to gate.

13.

In minstrel’s robes my fiddle tuned fine,

With warbling notes my toung the song did sing,

Myne eyes and harte did note eche other thing

That there was done: first how they did incline,

There lothesome liues, much like to filthie swine:

I playd my part before their hoggish king,

A part which him and his to bale did bring:

For when I knewe their purposed intent,

By my returne I made them al repent.

14.

For in the night I did their campe inuade,

With bloddye blade I did destroy them al,

And those which did as then escape the thrall,

Of infidels them christened men I made,[1227]

And though with warres my realme were quite decay’d,

Yet at the laste after so greate a fal,

I wonne the price that pleasde me most of al:

Euen quiet peace a blesse of al the best,

The frute whereof is nothing els but rest.

15.

Thus being blest with peace and quiet rest,

At _Oxford_ I a grammer schoole did buyld,

By meanes whereof my common weale was filde

With learned men: and hauing thus my hest,

A abbies buylt, esteeming it the best,

That God who me in al my warres did wielde,

And me preserude euen with his myghtie shielde,

That he in peace the only prayse myght haue,

I buylded up religious houses braue.

16.

At _Winchester_ the minster there I made,

At _Shaftesburye_ I buylt a nunnerye,

I daily did erect diuinitie:[1228]

All which good deedes euen by one wicked trade,

Were quite defaste and from my fame did fade:

O hateful thing that fuming fantasye,

Should make a man that seeth, not to see:

Alas, I byte on pleasure’s bytter bayte,

Whose hateful hookes are couered with desayte.

17.

In lawlesse loue I had a great delyght,

That sugered sweete of little lasting ioye,

Those luering lookes of dayntie damsels coy,

Made me committe that lyke a carpite knighte,

I did consume ful many a day and nyght

With such delyghtes as did my name anoye,

My health and life at last they did destroy:

Yea these delightes did so my fame deface,

That now with shame I blushe to shewe my face.

18.

Those lewde delightes did drawe me to disease,

Consuming sicknesse brought me verye lowe,

Phisitions they _Sicus_[1229] that euil do know,

A kinde of sore which did me much displease,

It alwayes did bereaue me of my ease:[1230]

On partes belowe that gryping griefe doth growe,

On me my God a iust reuenge did show,

And at the last continuing in my sinne,

I lost my lyfe, and hateful hel did winne.

19.

What though I did from forayne foes defend

My _Saxon_ soyle, with thrice renowmed fame:

What though I rulde with equitie the same:[1231]

What though to buyld vp abbies I did bend

My selfe, and prayd that God his worde would send:

Though these good deedes did honour much my name,

Yet these defaste with deedes of foule defame,

Be of no price: for filthie fleshly luste

Destroyd them al, and layd them in the duste.[1232]

20.

For as you see dissolued clowdes with rayne

The beames of _Phebus_ do deface:

Euen so one sinne did al my vertues race,

They blemished myne honor with disdayne,

So that I finde al vertue is in vayne,

If vices be with vertue linkt in place,

On vice an hundred vertues doth disgrace:

Therefore the man who hopeth for renowme,

Must fight with flesh, and beate al vices downe.

21.

And hee who can his raging wyl resiste,

Is much more strong then _Alexander_ greate,

Who wonne the worlde, yet had he not the feate,

With conquest to compel his lawlesse liste,

To do the thing whereby he might be bliste:

But they who hope to haue a heauenly seate,

Their lust and fleshly fancies downe must beate:

And hereby me you may perceiue at large,

The thinges which God committeth to man’s charge.]

[THE INDUCTION.

“It is requisite,” quoth _Memory_, “that now you seeke for _Edmund

Ironside’s_ father, I meane _Egelrede_, of some writers called

_Etheldrede_, who as his predecessor, _Alurede_, had but one vice,

so hee had neuer a vertue. In whose time the _Danes_ dyd more then

ouerrunne _England_, for they ruled and raigned ouer the whole realme,

and although a very valiant impe proceeded out of his raynes, who for

his ablenesse to indure paynes and trauayle, was surnamed _Ironside_;

yet had not _William_, duke of _Normandy_, nephew vnto the saide

_Edmunde_, made a conquest therof, the _Danes_ no doubte had ruled

it euen vnto this day. It is necessary, therfore, that we heare this

man’s complaynt.” “I haue hym here,” quoth _Inquisition_, “but I haue

no minde to heare him speake, for seeing he dyd dispise all vertue and

learnyng, it is to be thought that hee wyll tell a crooked tale, such a

one as wil (I feare except it be fyled after him) deforme all the rest.

But I wyl take paynes to polish that which he roughly doth frame.” “Not

at all,” quoth _Memorie_, “the browne byl is a goodly weapon: and let

it suffise if the matter wyll beate downe vice, let the meeter delight

as it may.” “Seeing you saye so,” quoth _Inquisition_, “I am content

that by the example of his death, he may admonish all the worlde to

flee the fall which he felt.” Wherewith he stepped forth, and saide as

foloweth.]

THE COMPLAYNT OF EGELREDE.

How Egelrede for his wickednesse was diuerslye distressed

by the Danes, and lastly dyed for sorrow, [seeing

himselfe not able to deale with Canutus.][1233]

1.

The minde and not the man dooth make or marre,

For as the stearne dooth guide the _Argocy_:

So by their mindes all men they guyded are:

From out the minde proceedeth fantasie,

All outwarde actes, vertue or vanitie,

Not from the man, but from the minde proceede:

The minde dooth make the man to do eache deede.

2.

For _Phalaris_ with beastly bloudy minde,

And _Nero_ dyd in murther much delight,

To mercy _Antoninus_ was inclinde,

_Midas_ for golde extended all his might:

For worldly pompe how dyd _Pompeius_ fight?

The mountyng minde of _Alexander_, made

Hym winne the world, his fame can neuer fade.

3.

How dyd the minde moue _Calicratides_,

_Xerses_, _Cirus_, and _Argantonius_?

_Philip_ of _Macedon_, _Theramines_,

_Aiax_, _Iason_, and _Aurilianus_,

_chilles_, and the olde king _Priamus_,

_Hector_, and _Hercules_, with false _Sino_,

Their mindes dyd make them weaue the web of woe.

4.

The twig dooth bende as _Boreas_ blastes dooth[1234] blow,

So man dooth walke euen as his minde dooth moue:

Then happy hee who hath a minde to know

Such thinges as be the best for his behoue:

No doubt the minde which vertuous actes dooth loue,

Dooth make a man euen _Cæsar_ to surpasse

For noble deedes, who prince of prowesse was.

5.

But he who hath his minde to mischiefe bent,

All his delight from vertue dooth decline,

Lyke mee too late hee shall his faultes repent,

His sinfull soule shall feele the fall in fine

That I haue felte: which makes me to repine

Against my minde, for nature dyd her parte,

My euil inclyned minde dyd spoyle my hart.[1235]

6.

What though I were of comely personage?

Joyntly my ioyntes were ioynde with perfect shape,

Adorned eke with so sweete a visage,

That neuer yet from nature’s handes dyd scape

A worke ymade of such a perfect shape?

But what of that? these giftes for want of grace,

Deformed quite the feature of my face.[1236]

7.

For why, my minde to ruthful ruine bent,

I did delyght in lothsome lecherie:

I neuer did my odious deedes repent,

In drunkennesse, in extreme crueltie,

I did delight in euerye villannye.[1237]

As for delyght in princely exercise,

The feates of armes I did them most despise.

8.

By meanes whereof my subiectes did me hate,

And forrayne foes, to burne my realme were bolde:

With warre the _Danes_ did alter strayght the state:

First fortune did my common-weale vnfolde,

Then pestilence did make my courage colde:

And last of al, the dreadful diuelish _Danes_[1238]

Did make me pay them tribute for theyr paynes.

9.

Euen now the realme of _Englande_ dyd decaye:

For when the _Danes_ theyr tribute had consumde,

Forthwith they made vs greater summes to paye:

From ten to fifteene thousand they presumde

Of poundes to make vs pay, so I redeemde

With money bagges my careful common-wealth:[1239]

The onely meanes reserued for my health.

10.

When thus the wante of courage on my parte,

Had geuen my foes so sure footing[1240] here,

And when disease with her destroying darte,

Had wypte away my subiects euery where:

Euen then to late my wisemen did appeare,

Whom heretofore I alwayes did detest

Their counsayle graue, at last they thus exprest:

11.

“O _Egelrede_ the fruite of fearfulnesse,

Of riote thou the right reward dost reape:

But if thou wilt auoyde this wretchednesse,

Be wise, and looke about before you leape:

Of hateful happes you see a hidiouse heape

Before your face, therefore in time geue eare,

And wisely way the wordes which thou shalt heare.

12.

“That noble duke _Richarde_ of _Normandy_,

A sister hath, whom thee we wishe to wed,

By meanes whereof from this captiuity

We may be brought, and that without bloodshed:

For why these _Danes_, these _Normans_, so do dread,

That if from thence an ayde we can procure,

Thy foes no doubte can neuer long endure.

13.

“The mayd she may a prince’s fancye please,

Her brother is a man of greate renowne:

This way, O king, may make thy subiectes ease,

It may restore the freedome of thy crowne:

This onely way will force thy foes to frowne:[1241]

If thou thy crowne and common-weale dost loue,

Do thou the thing so much for thy behoue.”

14.

So by their meanes I maried the mayde,

She _Emma_ hight, the floure of _Normandie_,[1242]

Of whom I was so glad and wel apayde,

That al the world with my prosperitie

Could not compare: and in that iollitye

I did deuise by traynes of secrete treason,

To bring the _Danes_ to death, in a good season.

15.

I did a feast through al my realme proclame,

At which both _Danes_ and _Englishmen_ did meete,

Then secretely my friendes, and I did frame,

That _Englishmen_ the _Danes_ shoulde friendly greete,

And at the feast that they shoulde doo their feate:

And that they might the better woorke their wyl,

They thus were plast according vnto skill.

_Two before one, and three before fiue,

Here two, and there two, and foure them beliue:

Here one, and there one, and three at a cast,

Then one, and twice two, and one at the last._

16.

They mingled thus, the watchworde wysely geuen,

And _Englishmen_ with weapons wel bestead,

The _Danes_ amidst their cuppes were shauen and shriuen:

Fiue hundred thousand in one day were dead:[1243]

Now note the ende of blood so beastly shed,

For _Swane_ the king of _Denmarke_ did ariue,

He for reuenge did me to _Richard_ driue.

17.

Marke here how lawlesse polices preuaile,

Their good successe doo promise present payne:

What, may man’s vayne deuises ought auaile?

Dishonest deedes no honour can obtayne,

Al murthering massacres be vile and vayne,

Such suttle slayghtes haue neuer good successe;

The proofe whereof with payne I here expresse.

18.

For _Swane_ with swoorde and fyre did[1244] destroye,

Both man and beast, and euery earthly thing,

He did that noble _London_ much annoy,

He wonne the realme and was the _Englishe_ king:

When tract of time him to his beere did bring,

_Canutus_ then his sonne did him succeede,

Whom to displace I did despatch with speede.

19.

My brother _Richarde_ duke of _Normandy_,

Of _Normans_ gaue to me a goodly bande,

By helpe of whom _Canutus_ forst to flee,

I got agayne the kingdome of _Englande_,

But out (alas) what thing may fyrmely stande,

Whose vnder-propt is of so litle might?

That want of strength dooth let thinges drop downright.

20.

_Canutus_ did from _Denmarke_ nowe returne,

The wrathful wight appoynted passyng strong,

My subiects slue, my cities he did burne;

Which when I hearde I liude not very long,

My faynting hart was thronged with a throng

Of cares, which broke it in my feareful brest,

And so at last death brought my bones to rest.

21.

Twice tenne and eight I ranne my ruthful race,

And then in _Paule’s_ my cursed corps was layde,

_Canutus_ did my common-weale deface,

The _Danes_ were kinges, my kingdome was decayde,[1245]

This worlde is frayle, and euery thing must fade,

But alwayes that which wanteth gouernment,

That fyrst dooth feele the force of danger’s dent.

[THE INDUCTION.

“O Memory,” quoth _Inquisition_, “what dyd become of _Edmunde

Ironsyde_, of whom you made mention in your former induction?” “That

vertuous valiaunt prince,” quoth _Memory_, “was miserably made away by

an earle.” “By an earle,” quoth _Inquisition_, “I haue here an earle

called _Edricus_, who murthered a kynge, it may bee, that chaunce hath

yeelded vntoo vs the factour vnlooked for.” “He is euen the same,”

sayd _Memory_, “and hys tragedye is very necessarie, for hee as thys

woorthie kyng was set on a priuie, to doo as nature and necessitie

dooth constrayne, caused hym miserably to bee thrust vp into the

fundament wyth a speare, wherewith the good prince ended hys dayes.”

“If we doo heare hym, geue hym warnyng,” quoth _Inquisition_, “that hee

be briefe: for wee haue no tyme to bestowe in hearing the complayntes

of those miserable princes, and yet wee muste needes heare one more

besyde hym. Let him therefore goe roundly to the purpose.” “He shal

not be tedious,” quoth _Memory_. Wherewith the wretched man sayde as

foloweth.]

THE COMPLAINT OF EDRICUS.

Howe Edricus destroyed the valiant king Edmunde Ironsyde,

hoping to haue greate preferment for his labour of

Canutus the Dane, and howe the same Canutus

caused him to be be-headed for his

labour. A necessary example for

al such as thinke by craft

and deceite to increase

their credited.[1246]

1.

You hellish hagges of limbo lake belowe,

Which dayly doo my cursed corps torment,

Come forth, come forth, come forth, (I say) and shewe

How I on earth my dismal dayes haue spent:

And wil you not, you wretched wightes, assent

To helpe me here to tell that drierie tale,

Which may amongst men liuing much preuayle?

2.

O cursed ghost condemde to endelesse thrall,

Sith they refuse to aide thee in this neede,

Doo thou declare and tel the truth of al,

That men aliue my wretched woorkes may reade,

And see the fruite of suttle Satan’s seed,

Auoyding vice, and fancie’s fonde delight,

Note wel my tale, the truth I shal recite.

3.

When _Etheldrede_ had geuen _Canutus_ place,

_Edmunde_ his sonne, surnamed _Ironside_,

Deuising howe he might his foe deface,

By wrath of warre the cause they did decide:

And in the ende the realme they did deuide:

_Edmunde_ had halfe, _Canutus_ had the rest,

Then they with peace and quietnesse were blest.[1247]

4.

O blinde beleefe, O hope of higher hope,

Why did you moue my minde to meditate,

Howe I in woe king _Edmunde_ might inwrap,

And howe I might depresse my kinge’s estate?

Thou blinde beleefe, thou breeder of debate,

I wanting grace did let thee moue my minde,

Causlesse to kil a courteous king, and kinde.[1248]

5.

He being kilde, I to _Canutus_ went,

To whom I sayd: “See here a faithfull friend,

I for thy loue with bloody blade haue bent,[1249]

And brought my king to his vntimely ende:

Thou by that meanes shalt rule thy realme with rest,

My friendly fist with happie good successe,

Hath thee inricht with blisse and happinesse.”

6.

“Hast thou,” quoth he, “destroyde thy souerayn king?

Thou faythlesse fauning friende, for loue of me?

Thou verlet vile, and couldste thou doo the thing

The which might more abridge my libertie?

O heynous acte! O bloody crueltie!

But sith that loue did moue thee doo that deede,

Thou for thy paynes shalt be preferde with speede.”

7.

Wherewith in haste he to the hangman said:

“Let this man’s head the hyghest place obtayne

On _London_ walles:” wherewith I neuer stayde,

But on a blocke my necke was cut in twayne,

In all men’s sighte, my head did long remayne:

See here what wit the grape of hope dooth yeeld,

See on what sand such busie braynes do builde.

8.

O hateful thing that fancie’s fonde delight,

The sense of mortal man should senselesse make:

When vice’s vaunts with vertue’s deedes dare fyght,

Then dooth the soule the happie heauens forsake,

Then man makes haste to _Plutoe’s_ lothsome lake:

Why should man loue that sugered sowre sweete,

Which wisedom’s lore to lothe hath thought most meete?

[THE INDUCTION.

“The iust rewarde for so vile an offence dothe proue,” quoth

_Inquisition_, “this _Canutus_ to bee both a wise and a worthy prince.”

“Yea,” saide _Memory_, “yf he had liued amongst those pratling poetes

which made so muche tattle of _Hector_ and _Hercules_, certaynely he

should not haue been inferiour vnto eche of them. This _Canutus_ was

king at one time of foure kingdomes: as for _Englande_, and _Scotland_,

and _Norway_, he held them by conquest: by birth he was the kyng of

_Denmarke_: yea, he so demeaned himselfe, that duryng his lyfe all

these foure kingdomes honoured him with the honoure due vnto a natiue

king. But not long after his death, that good king, saint _Edmunde

the Confessour_, obtayned agayne the rule of _Englande_, but chiefely

through the helpe of his nephewe _William_, duke of _Normandy_, to

whom, for that after his death he by lineall descent was next, he

promised the crowne of _Englande_, if that he dyed without issue.”

“Howe chaunced it then,” quoth _Inquisition_, “that the duke made such

sharpe warre vppon _Harolde_, for the obteynyng thereof.” “Howe dyd

it chaunce?” quoth _Memory_, “that is necessarie too be knowne, for

that chaunce dyd not onely destroy the _Danes_, but it brought both

_Harolde_ and the _Englishmen_ to confusion: and although nowe our idle

houres be spent, tyme and our affayres doo call vs from the further

hearing these men’s complayntes, yet let vs, as we may, heare what thys

_Harolde_ wyll saye: hys story wyll furnishe our woorke with a fit

conclusion. And for the better vnderstanding of this man’s matter doo

you imagine that you see this king comming from the conquest of the

_Danes_, euen sweating in hys armour, to saye, as followeth.”]

THE COMPLAINT OF HAROLDE.

Howe king Harolde raygnyng but niene monthes, had continuall warre

with the Danes, with the Norway kyng, with his brother Tosto,

and with duke William, who partely by hys strength, but

chiefly by policie, overcame hym, and by killyng him

in the feelde, obteyned the kingdomeof Englande.

Thys historie dooth declare that no manhoode

nor courage can keepe the crowne from

the right heyre’s head[1250].

1.

Woulde he haue warre, and we to warre proclame?

O bastarde duke, and dost thou dare to fyght?

My noble men, come forth, and purchase fame:

Geue me my swoorde, let me defende my right:

Steppe foorth with speede my martiall men of myght:

With bowes and bylles, let vs their course restrayne:

And teach them that their vaunting vowes be vayne.

2.

But that we may with wysedome wisely woorke,

It vs behoues in _Normandy_ to fight

With hym, and not to let his souldiers lurke

Here in my realme, we shal thereby achiue

No noble acte, though hence we him do driue:

But if we deale with him in _Normandy_,

We shal receiue renowne and victorie.

3.

It is the best with forraine foes to fyght

Abroade, as did the haughtie _Hannibal_,

And not at home to feele their hatefuil spight:

Of all the rest it is the greatest thrall,

That foes ariud shoulde spoyle our subiectes all:

And for a truth this alwayes hath bin found,

He speedeth best which fightes on forrayne grounde.

4.

[My men of warre were mustered in hast,

But hast to late was then of none auayle,

The duke ariude, he in my realme was plaste,

He euery where my subiectes did assayle,

And euery where he caused them to quayle:

For which I bode hym battaile by and by,

Where equall warres gaue neither victorye.

5.

For both our strengthes were weakned in such wise,

We both for breath to pause were wel content,

Euen then the duke he wisely did deuise,

How here to yeeld my crowne I might be bent:

For whiche to me a pursiphaunt he sent,

With letters, suche as here I shall recite,

Wherein he claimes the _Brittayne_ crowne his right.][1251]

William Duke of Normandie, and ryght heyre to the Englyshe

crowne, to Harolde the Vsurper.

Though birthright cannot cause thee yeeld to me my crown,

Yet haue thou some respect of honour and renowne,

For thou by oth didst sweare to yeeld to me my right,

When as I thee prefer’d, and stalde thee there by might:

Mine vncle _Edwarde_ he, thy father’s faythfull freende,

Gaue me his crowne, and thou thereto didst condescend,

Yet now thou wouldest fayne defeate me of my right,

And proue thy selfe forsworne of former promise plight:

Shall _Harold_ haue his hest? shal _Godwine’s_ sonne here[1252] guide?

Shall _William_ want his wyl, and haue his ryght denide?

Well _Harolde_, if thou canst with warres determine so,

I am content: if not, prouide, I am thy foe:

My sonnes and al my kinne shal neuer stint to striue,

To plucke thee from thy place, whilst one is left aliue:

But if thou wylt be wise, to me my right resigne,

And thou shalt haue the place belonging to thy line:

If not, with fyre and swoorde I meane thy realme to spoyle,

I neuer hence[1253] wyll starte till I haue forst thy foyle:

And now thou knowste my wyl, determine for the best,

Thou maist haue warres, and if thou wylt, thou maist haue rest.

WILLYAM duke of Normandy.

6.

These letters were of little might, to make My manly minde to

graunt hym his request, For which I did to fortune me betake,

To wage new warres with hym I deemde it best, So from his fist

his threatning blade to wrest: But see the force of fortune’s

changing cheare, Another cloud before me did appeare.

7.

My brother _Tosto_[1254] who from me was flead, Did now

returne, and brought the _Norway_ kyng: They did deuise to

haue from me my head, Which made me to indite another thing Vnto

the duke, then playne and true meaning: I gaue him hope of that I

neuer meant: These were the lines which to the duke I sent.

Harolde the English King, to thee William,

Duke of Normandie.

_Harold_ the _English_ king, thee _William_ Duke doth greete:

Thy letter being read, I haue not thought it meete,

Without a parliament to do so great a thing,

As of a forrayne duke, to make an _Englishe_ kyng:

But if my three estates will follow mine[1255] aduise,

Thou shalt receiue the crowne, and beare away the price:

Therfore delay a time, thou shortly shalt receiue

With full consent the thing, which now thou seek’st to haue.

HAROLDE.

8.

Then I in hast my power did prepare,[1256]

For why, I hearde my brother _Tostoe’s_[1257] trayne,

Two of my earles by north he had destroyd,[1258]

And manye a thousand men he there had layne:

But when we met, his triumphe was in vayne:

For I and myne the _Norway_ king there kilte,

And I my selfe my brother’s blood there spilte.

9.

Now when the duke my friendly lines had read,

And heard how I my men did muster newe,

“There lies a snake within this greene grasse bed,”

Quoth he, “therefore come forth my warrelike crewe,

We will not staye to see what shall insue:

By long delayes, from forrain coastes he may

Procure an ayde, to scourge vs with decay.”

10.

But when he heard with whom I had to deale:

“Well done,” quoth he, “let hym go beate the bushe,

I and my men to the lurche line will steale,

And plucke the net euen at the present push,

And one of them we with decaye will crushe:

For he who doth the victor there remaine,

Shall neuer rest, till he hath dealt with twaine.”

11.

So I in vaine who had the victorie,

Within fewe dayes was forst againe to fight,

My strength halfe spoylde, the rest wounded and wearie,[1259]

His campe was comne vnwares within my sight,

There was no hope to flee by day nor night:

I _Harold_ then, a haraude sent in haste,

To know whither the duke his campe[1260] had plaste.

12.

He sent me woord, my yfs and ands were vaine,

And that he knewe the driftes of my delay,

For which he sayde he woulde yet once agayne

Make trial, who shoulde beare the crowne away:

If I would yeelde, he sayd his men should stay,

If not, he then was present presently,

To trye the cause by _Mars_ his crueltie.

13.

Which when I hearde, and sawe him march amayne,

His trumpets did defy me to my face,

In hast I did appoynt my very trayne,

And souldier-like I al my men did place,

I neuer sude, nor prayde, nor gapte for grace:

For hauing plaste my men in battayle ray,

[Myne ancient bearer did my armes display.[1261]

14.

The battayle, vanard, and the rerewarde,

Were plaste in frunte, that men might fyght at wyll,

The forelorne hope of bowmen I preparde,

In skirmishing who had the perfect skil:

With archers eke I did the winges fulfyl,

To rescue them my men at armes were prest,

Then thus my speech amongst them I exprest.]

15.

“My mates, in armes see here the last assault,

Winne now the fielde, and be you euer blest:

This bastarde base borne duke, shal be exalt

Himselfe so high? giue eare vnto my hest,

This day no doubt we shall haue quiet rest:

For good successe shal set vs free from feare,

Or hateful happe shal bring vs to our beare.

16.

“Euen here at hand his power doth appeare,

March forth my men, we must no longer stay,

Let euery man abandon faynting feare,

And I as guyde wyl lead you on your way:

Euen I my selfe the formost in the fray,

Wyl teach you how you shal abate his pride:

Fight, fight my men, Sainct _George_[1262] shal be your guide.”

17.

His cros-bowe men my archers did assayle

With three to one, yet were they al to weake:

And when his forlorne hope could not preuayle,

Them to assist his horsemen out did breake,

Three troopes I sent on them the wrath to wreake,

And by and by the battayles both did ioyne,

With many a thrust, and many a bloudie foyne.

18.

Of three mayne battayles he his armie made,

I had but one, and one did deale with three:

Of which the first by me were quite dismayde,

The other two they did discomfort me,

Not yeelding, but in yeelding blowes we bee

(With losse of life) constrayn’d at last to yeelde

The crowne, the kingdome, and the foughten feelde.

19.

Note now the lot which on my limmes did lyght,

Nine monthes no more, I wore the _Englishe_ crowne,

In euery month I in the feelde did fight,

In euery fyght, I wonne a freshe renowne,

Yet at the last my strength was beaten downe:

And here before you, now I do protest,

I neuer had one day of quiet rest.

20.

For fyrst with warre I wonne the princely seate,

With ciuil strife I dayly was distrest,

My brother twise indeuorde to defeate

Me of my throne, the _Norway_ king was prest,

The dreadful _Danes_ they dayly mee distrest:

At last, this duke did make me strike my sayle,

When winde, nor tide, nor oares, myght[1263] preuayle.

21.

My kingdome then was proude his lawful price,

With conquest he recouered his right,

And as you see of conquering the guise,

The _Englishmen_ they were defaced quite;

Then of his trayne he did prepare[1264] ech wyght:

And this was that which onely brought me blesse,

I did not liue to see this wretchednesse.

22.

But woe to me which caused al this coyle,

I was an earle my father being dead:

Why did my brest with scalding malice boyle,

To kepe the crowne from the right heyre’s head?

O fancye fonde, thy fuminges hath mee fed,

The stinking stinch of thyne inclined hest,

Hath poysoned al the vertues in my brest.

23.

The ruthful roodes[1265] of proued euil[1266] successe,

Who hath sustaynde that passing pinching[1267] payne,

That woful wight al wrapt in wrecthednesse,

Can well report man’s fancye is but vayne:

That man doth know, by proofe he findes it playne,

That he who stoopes to fancie’s fond desires,

Doth grope for grapes amidst the bramble briers.

24.

Let no man thinke by fetches finely filde,

By double drifts conuayed cunningly,

To get or gayne by any craft or guile,

A good estate with long prosperitie:

His lust obtaynde, he liues in miserie,

His guiltie ghost dooth see his plague appeare,

Who goeth straight he needeth not to feare.

FINIS.

_Goe straight and feare not._

END OF PART II.

VOLUME THE FIRST.

T. Bensley, Printer,

Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] In discussing the first and second heads, it must be recollected

that the subject confines the inquiry to that portion of the work,

which was edited by _William Baldwin_, and forming Part III. in the

present edition.

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

[3] _Bibliographia Poetica_, p. 88.

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

[5] This must have been Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who was

made Chancellor 21 Sept. 1553, and died the 13 Nov. 1555. On his death

the great seal was entrusted to Sir Nicholas Hare, Master of the Rolls,

and on the first of January following it was given to Dr. Nicholas

Heath, the Archbishop of York.

[6] The copy before me wants the title. The colophon as follows: _Thus

endeth the nynth and laste boke of Iohnon Bochas, whiche treateth of

the fall of princes, princesses, & other nobles. Imprinted at London

in flete strete by Richarde Pynson, printer vnto the kynges moste

noble grace, & fynisshed the xxi. day of Februarye, the yere of our

lorde god. M. CCCCC. XXVII._ Folio. Has sig. P. P. viij, the preceding

signatures in sixes and the first alphabet wanting Y & Z. Ends at fo.

CCXVI. This edition differs materially from the one printed by Tottell.

[7] _A treatise excellent and compendious shewing and declaring, in

maner of Tragedye, the falles of sondry most notable Princes and

Princesses with other Nobles, through y^e mutabilitie and change of

vnstedfast Fortune together with their most detestable & wicked vices.

First compyled in Latin by the excellent Clerke Bocatius, an Italian

borne. And sence that tyme translated into our English and Vulgare

tong, by Dan John Lidgate Monke of Burye. And nowe newly imprynted,

corrected, and augmented out of diuerse and sundry olde writen copies

in parchment._ Colophon. _Imprinted at London in Fletestrete within

Temple barre at the sygne of the hande and starre, by Richard Tottel,

the x day of September in the yeare of oure Lorde._ 1554. _Cum

Privilegio ad imprimendum solum._ Folio: folds in Sixes. Extends to Pp.

vj. the first alphabet wanting Z, and the dance of Machabree having for

sig. ¶ ¶, in six. Ends at fol. CC. xxiiii.

[8] Head title: _The daunce of Machabree wherin is liuely expressed and

shewed the state of manne, and howe he is called at vncertayne tymes by

death, and when he thinketh least theron; made by thaforesayde Dan John

Lydgate Monke of Burye._

[9] It is entitled: _The tragedies, gathered by Jhon Bochas, of all

such Princes as fell from theyr estates throughe the mutability of

Fortune since the creacion of Adam, until his time; wherin may be seen

what vices bring menne to destruccion, wyth notable warninges howe the

like may be auoyded. Translated into Englysh by John Lidgate, Monke

of Burye. Imprinted at London, _by_ John Wayland, at the signe of the

Sunne ouer against the Conduite in Fletestrete. Cum Priuilegio per

Septennium._ The title is in the architectural compartment of John Day

the printer, where the two Atlas figures upon pedestals support the

entablature, having the royal arms central, and at the bottom Day’s

rebus, of one person awaking another, pointing to the rising sun, in a

frame before a bar, having “ARISE, FOR IT IS DAY.” Folio, 189 leaves.

[10] History was always recommended as supplying interesting lessons

for youth, and a fit amusement for the avoiding idleness for

gentlemen.--“Cosmography,” says the intelligent Sir Thomas Eliot,

“beyng substancially perceyued, it is than tyme to induce a chylde to

the redyng of histories. But fyrst to set hym in a feruent courage,

the maister in the most pleasant and elegant wise, expressyng what

incomparable delectacion, vtilitee, and commoditee shall happen to

emperours, kinges, princis, and all other gentylmen, by redyng of

histories.” _The boke named the Gouernour._ 1553. B. I. Ch. XI.--As a

proper study for gentlemen it is more largely enforced by an anonymous

author, who says: “To auoyd this blemyshe of idlenes, whiche defaceth

vtterly the lyfe of gentlemen, it behoueth them alwayes to be occupyed,

and although there wante sumetyme mete occacion of corporall exercyse,

yet the mynde of man maye be occupyed much to the increase of hys

knowledge and vnderstandyng: wherin ther can be nothynge more meete

for gentlemen then the readyng of histories, a most excellent and

laudable exercise for them, euen so muche as historyes are called the

bokes of kynges and princes, because vnto rulers of this earthe the

knowlege of histories is most profitable, and very necessary to be read

of all those whyche beare office and authority in the communwealth.

Siculus affirmeth that the reading of histories is to younge men moste

proffitable, for because by them they learne the righte institucion

of their liues, and that by meanes of readynge sundrye thynges their

wittes are made equall with their elders that haue gone before them.

Moreouer he saieth that it maketh priuate men worthy to becom rulers

ouer others, it prouoketh Capitaines in the warres to seke immortal

glory throughe their worthye deedes, it maketh soldiers more earnest

to enter into perilles for the defence of their country, by reason

of the laud and fame that is geuen vnto men after theyr deathe, and

also it feareth euill disposed men, and maketh them ofttimes refraine

from dooing of mischiefe by reason of the shame that commeth therof,

regestred in histories to their dishonoure. In histories are to be

learned manye morall lessons to the vnderstanding of thinges past,

the ordre of thinges present. By them we lerne to knowe howe princes

and rulers of thys worlde haue passed their liues, as sum geuen to

knowledge of sciences, sume to see iustice truelye executed, other

geuen to pitie, others to peace, quyetnes, and care of the commune

wealthe.” _The Institvcion of a Gentleman_, 1568.

[11] With that view Hearne noticed the Mirror for Magistrates as a work

in which “are several things of note to be consulted by those who write

of the English history.” MSS. Col. vol. i. p. 133. Bod.

[12] The title was repeatedly borrowed even by popular writers. There

was: “_The Mirrour for Mutabilitie, or principall part of the Mirrour

for Magistrates, describing the fall of diuers famous Princes, and

other memorable Personages. Selected out of the sacred Scriptures

by Anthony Munday, and dedicated to the Right Honorable the Earle

of Oxenford. Honor alit Artes. Imprinted at London by John Allde

and are to be solde by Richard Ballard, at saint Magnus Corner.

1579._”--“_Mirrour of Mirth, a story book by R. D. 1583._” CAPELL’S

_Shakesperiana_, N^o 150. _A Mirrour for Magistrates of Cities, &c.

by Geo. Whetstone_, 1584, and _The English Myrror_, in three parts,

by same Author, 1586. Also the _Mirrour for Mathematikes_; a _Mirrour

of Monsters_, &c. Warton also mentions, upon the manuscript authority

of Coxeter: _The Mirrour of Mirrours, or all the tragedys of the

Mirrour for Magistrates abbreuiated in breefe histories in prose. Very

necessary for those that have not the chronicle. London, imprinted for

James Roberts in Barbican, 1598._ No copy of this work has yet been

discovered.

[13] In 1560 was published GODET’S _Chronicle_. It may be conjectured

that that work was printed, to the reign of William the Conqueror,

before the appearance of the M. for M. in the year preceding, when the

compiler, from the reception of that poem, was induced to alter his

descriptions from prose to octave stanzas. As this Chronicle is of

more than usual rarity, I shall venture to extend this note with some

account of it, premising, that in the continuance of Ames, Mr. Dibdin

will give a minute analysis of the work, accompanied with a specimen of

the very curious wood cuts.

This Chronicle takes its name from the colophon: “Imprinted at London

by Gyles Godet dwellinge in Blacke Frieres.” It was printed on a long

roll in divisions, with bold well executed portraits, cut in wood, of

our ancient patriarchs and monarchs, each having an ensign of arms, and

beneath a brief narrative of the principal events of each life. The

Roll commences with the following address:

“To the reader. Beholde here (gentle reader) a brief abstract of the

genealogie and race of all the kynges of England, from the floudde

of Noe, vntill Brute, at whiche tyme this contrye was called Albion,

takyng that name of one of the thirtie sisters (as some saye) whose

name was Albion: or as other some saye, so named by mariners, bicause

of the white Cliffes that are on the costes of the same. And afterward

from Brute to Athelscaine, at which time it was named Britaine, taing

name of Brute: from Athelscaine, the first of the Saxons, (at which

tyme it chaunged that name of Britayne, & was called England) to

william Conquerour. And from william Conquerour to this present day.

And if by chaunce thou fynde any thyng herein fautye, or not agreeing

with some other cronicles, vnderstand that the diuersities of the

cronicles of our realme, be so great, (especially in thinges long past)

that it is very difficult, to make a certain & true report thereof. Not

with standing, I haue vsed the helpe of the best Cronicles that haue

[been] wrytten therof, & gone so neare to the truth, as to me seemed

possyble. I haue also set forth the pourtraiture of their personages,

with their true armes: also briefly their gestes, & deedes with the

yeares of their raygnes & places of their burials, according as I haue

found mention therof: Beesechyng the to accept my good wyll, and to

receyue thys my laboure in good part: which if thou do, it shal not

only be the accomplishyng of my request, but also shal encourage me

hereafter, to vse my little talent, farther. Farewel.”

The “portraitures” commence with a square compartment representing

“Noe” asleep in a vineyard and his three sons. See Genesis, C. IX. v.

22, 23. Then follows a three quarter length of each monarch, with a

summary of their “gests” or acts printed underneath. Their names are

Noe, Cham, Mesraim, Laabin, Tuscus, Altheus, Camboblascon, Dardanus

Ericthonius, Tros, Eneas, Ascanius, Siluius, Brutus.

Here another square compartment exhibits “the foundation of the cytie

of London,” in a view of the Thames, with a Tower nearly built on the

one side and foundations for buildings upon the other, with workmen,

&c. Brutus “founded the cytye of Troynouant; (whiche is as muche to

say, as:) New Troye, whiche afterward, was repayred & garnyshed with

Towers and faire buyldynges, by Kynge Lud: And from his tyme, it was

called Ludstone: and afterwarde by corruption of speache, was called

London. So that from the begynnyng of the foundacion of the same Cytye,

to this present yeare, (whiche is the yeare of our Sauiour 1560) we

fynde it to be 2690. yeares, or there about.” Then succeed

Locrinus, Maddan, Memprise, Ebrancke, Brute the ii, Leyl, Lud

Hurdibras, Bladud, Leir, Queen Cordeile, Morgan & Conedag, Riueall,

Gurgustius, Sysyllus, Jago, Kymar, Gorbonian, Dunwallon, Bellinus,

Gurgwin Batrus, Guitellin, Sicilius, Morindus, Gorbonianus, Archigall,

Elidurus, Vigenius & Peridurus, Gorbonias, Morgan, Emerianus, Idwall,

Rimo, Geruntius, [Here the names of 26 kings are given in genealogical

circles, according to succession, of whom “we fynd not much written”

and we may presume, that circumstance the reason for omitting any

supposed resemblance of them.] Elinguellus, Hely, Lud, Casseuelanus,

Tenentius, Kimbeline, Guinderus, Aruiragus, Marius, Coell, Lucius,

Bassianus, Carasius, Asclepiodotus, Coell, Constantius, Constantyne,

Octauius, Traherus, Maximianus, Gratian, Constantyne, Constans,

Vortiger, Vortimerus, Aurelius Ambrose, Vter Pendragon, Arthur the

great, Constantyne, Aurelius Conan, Vortiporuis, Malgon, Cathericus,

Cadwan, Cadwallon and Edwyn, Cadwallader.

“Here endeth the raignes of the Britaines, from the time of Brute to

Cadwallader, and then this realme being in great misery, the English

Saxons inuaded it, and so raigned vntill the comming in of willyam

Conqueror.” As

Athelscayne, Egbrut, Edelnulph, Alfred, Edward, Athelstone, Edmond,

Edred, Edwin, Edgar, Edward, Etheldred, Edmond Ironsyde, Ciuiton or

Swayne, Herauld, S. Edward, Harauld.

“Here endeth the raignes of the Saxon kinges: & beginoneth the raigne

of willyam Conquerour, who slewe the last of the Saxons ligne, &

conquered the land: & from him, to our Souueraine lady the Queenes

maiestie that nowe is, whom god prospere. Amen.”

From William the Conqueror to Q. Elizabeth, the names of the portraits

are according to the general regal table. With that king the compiler

of the Chronicle commences his description in octave stanzas, of which

a specimen for comparative use may be here preserved.

Willyam Conquerour i.

William Conquerour Duke of Normandy

Conquered England and began there to raign

The thousand syxty syx yeare truelye

Of Christ: but the Englysh men rebelled again

Yet he subdued them to their great paine,

And brought y^e king of Scottes to his obeissance

With his eldest son Robert, warre he did sustain

In Normandy: & with king Philip in France.

In Fraunce he fell sycke and tooke his death

And to his son Robert which then was most old,

The Dukedome of Normandy he did bequest.

To his Sonne called William Rous he wolde

The Realme of Englande; but his gold

He wylled to his yongest sonne Henrye

And XXI. yeare he raigned it is told

And lyeth buried at Cane in Normandy....

Phillip and Mary.

The yeare a thousand fyue hundreth fyftythre

was Mary cround in England queen to raigne

who then allowed the Popes authoritie

Erectinge eke all Papistry agayne

And after maried with Phyllip king of Spaine

who raignde with hir as king, and yet was he

Not crounde, wherby no claime he could attain

She being dead of England kyng to be.

Hir raigne, hir port and eke hir gouernment

So rife in memory still with vs remaines

That it to shewe the tyme in vayne is spent

And eke to me it seemes but needlesse paynes:

Hir soule is fled, hir body still remaines

At Westminster the same eke buryed ys

fiue years she raygnd: Lo thus is death y^e gains

And eke the end of all this worldly blysse.

Elizabeth.

O England nowe of right thou mayst reioyce,

Sith myghtye Joue hath placed in princely throne,

Elisabeth, therfore with heart and voyce,

Prayse God: and giue all laude to him alone,

Whose myghtye hand hath placed nowe suche one,

As vertues force full amply hath endued:

More hope of welthe and ioye we haue had none,

Then God his grace to vs nowe hath renued.

For we his wrath against vs stil did moue,

And he his grace thus vndeserued sent,

We did rebell and he did shewe his loue,

In placing hir, whiche with our whole intent

We so did wishe: nowe let our heartes relent,

And pray to God that as she gracious is,

We maye be worthye tyll our lyues be spente,

Hyr to enioye, and thankfull be for this.

Only two copies of this rare chronicle are at present known, and those

are in the collections of Earl Spencer, and the right honourable Thomas

Grenville.

[14] Warton, in the account of the Mirror for Magistrates, given in his

History of English Poetry, Vol. III. at p. 216, has copied the title

of the edition of 1559, then extracted Baldwin’s Dedication from that

of 1563, as from the same. In another place he refers to the Induction

as printed in 1559. But this confusion is still more exceeded by the

following note at p. 220. “These lines in Collingbourne’s legend are

remarkable, fol. cxliiii. a.

Like Pegasus a poet must have wynges,

To flye to heaven, or where him liketh best;

He must have knowledge of eternal thynges,

Almightie Jove must harbor in his brest.”

The reference of roman capitals can only be to the edition of 1563,

where the second line stands thus:

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

The above alteration first appeared in 1571.

[15] The following critical disquisition upon the claim of Sackville,

contained in a letter from my intelligent and excellent friend Sir

Egerton Brydges, it would be unjustifiable on my part to suppress,

however militating against the position I have above sought to

establish:

“You have made out (he writes) a strong case; and some of your

inferences cannot be controverted: but I think that others are pressed

a little too far. That no contribution of Sackville appeared in the

first edition of the Mirror cannot be denied. That Sackville was not

one of the party engaged in the original design stopped by the Lord

Chancellor, is at least equivocal. According to my construction of

Baldwin’s words, he was one of that party, who, when a stop was put

to the plan adopted by him, in common with his partners, purposed to

execute the work by himself on a new plan of his own; and, in aid of

that work, intended to obtain of Baldwin what had been finished by

others, and to fit them to his own scheme. It is clear, that this

happened before the publication of the first edition of the Mirror,

because it was while the prohibition was in force. “How happened it

then,” it may be asked, “that Sackville’s pieces did not appear in the

first edition?” Perhaps because the hope of completing his own design,

though delayed, might not then have been abandoned. The delay might

have caused his coadjutors not to wait for him, though he himself

might not yet be prepared to bend his own nobler scheme to theirs.

Four important years from 1559 to 1563, the interval which elapsed

between the appearance of the first and second edition, might, and if

we examine the history of his life, most probably would effect this

change. In the days of Q. Mary he had the opportunity of cultivating

and ripening into fruit his poetical genius, which would require, as in

most other cases, the nurture of leisure and solitude. The accession to

the throne at this time of a Princess, to whom he was nearly allied,

and with whom he soon became, and always continued, a favourite,

opened to him other and more active prospects. The paths of ambition,

however thorny and full of dangers they might prove to long experience,

were too alluring to an high fancy and vigorous talents, when thus

invited. At first he might be still unwilling to abandon the pursuits

of his youth, of which he could not be insensible to the dignity and

the virtue, and which the conscious grandeur of genius must tell him

that wealth and birth could not rival, and princes could not qualify

him for. But he who once accustoms himself to the intoxicating cup of

worldly ambition, too generally feels that it gradually undermines the

strength of his higher intellect and nobler resolves; and that he sinks

into the common notions, feeble sentiments, and groveling amusements

of ordinary men. In four short years, the vigorous and inspired hand

of Sackville might no longer possess either the impulse, or the skill,

or the strength, to strike the lyre, which formerly returned to his

touch alternate strains of sublime morality and glowing description. In

this state of mental apostacy or dereliction, he might finally abandon

his youthful project of poetical glory, and give the mighty fragment

to his old coadjutor Baldwin, who seems to have had taste enough to

perceive its superiority; and to resolve not to lose the attraction of

so splendid a patch to his work, though its execution, as well as its

plan, rendered it impossible to make it coalesce with the rest of the

performance.

Warton therefore, though he cannot be entirely freed from the charge

of having expressed himself somewhat ambiguously in the application

of the words _primary inventor_ to the general plan of the Mirror for

Magistrates, yet may be justified in substance, if he meant, as I

conceive he did, to apply it to the only part to which the praise of

invention could be applied; that is, to the _plan of Sackville_.

Warton has well called the whole of this work, except the part executed

by Sackville, “biographical details.” This is their precise character:

they are scarcely ever animated by any of the ingredients of poetry,

at a period when true poetry was not utterly unknown, as not only the

antiquated strains of Chaucer, but the later performances of Surrey

and Wyat decisively prove. The popularity of this large collection

of historical legends shews that the general taste of the nation was

then low, vulgar, and uncultivated. Powerful and brilliant genius

will at all times seize striking circumstances, produce picturesque

effects, and omit disgusting, low, or uninteresting particulars: but

more ordinary minds, which require long discipline, and example, and

experience, to lead their taste, are insensible to these arts, either

as writers or readers, in early stages of literature. In an advanced

age of mental polish, even inferior authors catch a considerable

portion of this skill; and even the multitude, who seek amusement in

books, have learned to demand it. To a common eye therefore, there

does not _then_ appear such an immeasurable distance between the

Works of natively-gifted poets, and the herd of imitators who borrow

their outward garb. In our days there would not have been put forth a

publication, combining such poetical excellence of the highest kind, as

Sackville’s Induction and Legend contain, with a number of productions

deficient in the very elements, and even shape, of poetry. All would

have been polished into something like the same external form.

But this very discordancy gives _The Mirror for Magistrates_ a high

value among the records of the history and progress of the human mind.

For the purposes of the English philologist; for the development of the

first dawnings of our poetical phraseology; for the investigation of

the commencement of that “_ornate style_,” as it has been well called

by a modern critic, which at length became so copious and laboured,

as to make the greater part of that which assumed the name of poetry,

little better than a piece of hollow mechanism, till one or two poets,

of genuine inspiration, disgusted with its emptiness, put it out of

fashion, by a plainer and more vigorous style; for these purposes,

the _Mirror for Magistrates_, is a treasure meriting the most serious

attention and study of the English scholar; and therefore well worthy

of the reprint, which will render it accessible to his inquiries.

S. E. B.”

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

[17] The copy of the quenes Maiesties letters Patentes. Mary

by the grace of God, Quene of Englande, Fraunce, and Ireland, defendour

of the faith, and in earth of the Churche of Englande, and also of

Ireland, the supreme head. To al Prynters of bookes, and bookesellers,

and to al other our Officers, Minysters, and Subiectes these our

letters patentes hearing or seing gretyng. Knowe ye that we of oure

especial grace and meare mocion: haue geuen and graunted, and by

these presentes doo geue and graunte full power, licence, auctoritie,

and Priuilege vnto our welbeloued Subiect Jhon Wayland, Citezeyn and

Scriuenour of London. That he & his Assignes only and none other person

or persons shal from hensforth haue auctoritie, & lybertie to prynt

al and euery such vsual Primers or Manual of prayers by whatsoeuer

other title y^e same shal or may be called, which by vs our heyres,

successours, or by our clergy by our assent shal be auctorised,

set furth, and deuysed for to be vsed of all our louing subiects

thoroughout all our Realmes, and domynyons, duringe the full tyme

and terme of seuen yeares next ensuing the date of these our letters

patentes. And farther that it shal not be lawful for any maner of other

person, or persones of our said Subiectes, to Prynt or to procure to

be imprinted, anye Prymers or Manuall of prayers by whatsoeuer title

the same shall or may be called, or set furth, during the said tearme,

nor any booke, or bookes, which the said John Waylande or his Assignes

at his or theyr costes and charges shall first Prynte, or set furth

during the said terme of seuen yeares next ensuing the printing of the

same booke or bookes, vpon payne of forfature, and confiscacion of the

same Prymers, Manuall of prayers, and bookes, to thuse of vs and oure

successours. Wherfore we woll and commaunde all you our Printers, and

other our Subiectes that ye nor any of you, do presume, procure, or

attempt to print or set furth any maner Prymers, Manuall of prayers,

booke or bookes, which the said Jhon Wayland or his assignes shal first

print during the tyme of thys our Priuilege, and licence, vpon payne of

forfature and confiscacion of the same Prymers, Manual of prayers, and

bookes, as aforsaide. And as ye tendre oure pleasure, and wyl auoyde

the contrarie. In witnes wherof we have caused these our letters to be

made patentes. Wytnes ourselfe at Westminster the foure and twentith

daye of Octobre, in the fyrst yeare of our reigne. Per bren de priuato

sigillo et de data predicta.

[18] A license for the first part was obtained through the means of Lord

Stafford in 1559, and when published that nobleman continued to make

earnest calls upon Baldwin for that he had got from other men, which

is given in the second part printed 1563. Whether the whole of the

first, and what portion of the second part, was inserted in the folio

edition is uncertain. The following passage in the prose conclusion of

the second part bears incontestible evidence that it was written in the

time of queen Mary. “The frantyke heades whiche disable our Queene,

because she is a woman, and our kynge because he is a straunger, to be

our princes and chiefe governours, hath caused me to saye thus much.”

It is therefore probable that forming the conclusion of the suppressed

edition, it was reprinted from the original text, and, as happens

frequently by inadvertence at the press, without being corrected.

[19] Herbert possessed a copy, ad conjectured it was “printed to

fill up a spare leaf, and perhaps to try the pulse of the public.”

_Typographical Antiquities_, p. 565.

[20] The inspection of a larger proportion of the suppressed edition can

alone solve many doubts as to the contents: nor does there appear any

reason for not expecting to find the whole of the matter then printed,

either in the library at Knowle, or some other unexamined collection of

early English books! Why may it not be expected to discover the copy no

doubt gotten by Sackville from Baldwin, before he wrote the Induction,

when he intended to have all the tragedies “preserved in one volume?”

Vol. II. p. 307.

[21] It appears probable that some addition was made to the work in

1559. See Vol. II. p. 53, note, and p. 111, note 1.

[22] That reviler of fashions, Philip Stubbs, exhibits by the following

notice of the _Mirrour for Magistrates_ its early popularity, and a

sign of his contracted reading by not knowing the contents, as, at the

time he wrote, the legend of Henry the VIth had been twice printed. He

says: “Holy king Henry [the sixth] was crowned in Paris, and yet lost

all on that side before he was a man; and, before hys vnhappy death,

he lost thys land also. So that he may with more reason be recorded

among those fallen princes at the lowest of Boccace’s while; or in

our English booke of _fallen Maiestrates_, there to be reconed up by

any faythfull English man for a patent of imitation to our present Q.

Elizabeth.” _Discouerie of a gaping Gulf._ 1579.

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

[24] Vol. II. p. 43.

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

[26] The title of this and the later editions by Marsh are in the

compartment given with the title of each part of the present reprint.

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

[28] Higgins formed his plan on what had already appeared. In imitation

of Sackville there is a poetical Induction, wherein the author is

conducted by Morpheus, as the servant of Somnus, to a goodly hall,

wherein successively appear the ghosts of all those whose legends are

pronounced. Little invention was needed for these prolegomena, and in

the selection of Morpheus, as an appropriate conductor, there exists

a rivalry in one of the imitations of the Mirror for Magistrates also

published in 1574. It is entitled

_The rewarde of Wickednesse Discoursing the sundrye monstrous abuses

of wicked and ungodly worldelinges: in such sort set downe and written

as the same haue beene dyuersely practised in the persones of Popes,

Harlots, Proude Princes, Tyrauntes, Romish Byshoppes, and others. With

a liuely description of their seuerall falles and finall destruction.

Verye profitable for all sorte of estates to reade and looke upon.

Newly compiled by Richard Robinson, Seruaunt in housholde to the

right Honorable Earle of Shrewsbury. A dreame most pitiful, and to be

dreaded._

_Of thinges that be straunge,

Who loueth to reede:

In this Booke let him raunge,

His fancie to feede._

In the dedication to Gilbert Talbote, Esq. second son of the Earl of

Shrewsbury, the work is described as composed to eschew idleness, when

the author’s “turne came to serue in watche of the Scottishe Queene:”

I then (he says) euery night collected some part thereof, to thend

that nowe it might the better appeare, that I vsed not altogeather to

sleepe: Though one time I chaunsed among many watchfull nightes to take

a slumber, which incited mee to compile this fiction of poetry as more

largely appeareth in my prologue.

The address to the reader is dated the XIX of Maie, 1574, and the

Prologue describes the time of the dream as in December, after a “good

ale feast,” when the author says:

I thought none yll, my heade was layde full saft,

All carke and care my wandring sprite had laft.

Not lying thus one houre by the clocke,

Me thought the chamber shone with torches bright,

And in the haste at doore I hearde one knocke,

And sayde: “What slugge, why sleepest all the night?”

I starting vp behelde one in my sight,

Dasht all in golden raies before me did appeare,

And sayde: “I am a god, beholde that standeth here.”

Miue eares were filde with noysè of trumpets sounde,

And dazled were mine eies, my sence was almost gon,

But yet amazde my knee vaylde to the grounde,

And sayde: “Heare lorde, thy will and mine be one,

What is thy minde, more redie there is none,

To ride, to runne, to trauell here and there,

By lande and seas halfe worthie if I were.

But first to know thy name I humbly thee beseeche,

Forgiue my rudenesse this of thee to craue:”

He aunswering sayd, with meeke and lowlie speeche:

“_Morpheus_ is my name, that alwaies power haue,

Dreames to shewe in countrie, courte, or caue.

In the heauens aboue, or Plutoe’s kingdome loe,

Its I that haue the power each thing t’unfolde and shoe.”

Morpheus, as the guide, conducts the author through Pluto’s dominions,

who selects the following subjects as fit for his muse. 1. Hellen,

tormented for her treason to her husbande, and liuing in fornication

ten yeares. 2. Pope Alexander the sixt rewarded for his wickednesse

and odible lyfe, with his colledge of cardinals, bishops, abbots,

moonckes, freers, and nunnes, with the rabble of greasie priestes, and

other members of idolatory and superstition. 3. Young Tarquine rewarded

for his wickednesse. 4. The rewarde of Medea for hir wicked actes,

and false deceyuing of hir father, sleying of hir children, and hir

owne brother, and working by inchauntment. This historie is merueylous

tragicall and a good example for women. 5. The wordes of tormented

Tantalus, being rewarded for his extortion and couetousnes: Oppressing

the poore people of his countrey, and for other wicked actes. 6. The

rewarde of an ambicious and vaine glorious counseller, called Vetronius

Turinus, for his wicked life among them that hee might ouercome and

for his pride. 7. The wofull complaint of the monstrous Emperor

Heliogabalus for spending of his dayes in abhominable whoredome. 8.

The two Iudges for slaundering of Susanna: and bearing false witnesse

against hir, be rewarded for the same most terribly. Q. Pope Ihoan

rewarded for hir wickednesse. 10. Newes betwene the Pope and Pluto,

and of the proclamation about the ladder betwixt hell and heaven. 11.

The torment of Tiranny and the reward for his wickednesse, being a

king called Mydas, which tirannouslye swallowed not onely his countrey

for lucre sake, but his housholde seruauntes also. 12. The rewarde

that Rosamonde had in hell, for murdering of hir husbande Albonius and

liuing vitiouslie in hir husbandes dayes. 13 Retourning from Plutos

Kingdome, to noble Helicon: the place of infinite joy.--Col. Imprinted

at London in Pawles Churche Yarde, by William Williamson.

[29] See Vol. I. p. 243. Where, in note 8, the reader is requested

to alter 'first’ to 'second’ edition. In a few other notes the like

alteration may be wanted. I did not obtain sight of the copy described

above, until the volume was in print.

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

sheet was reprinted.

[31] In the present edition the very numerous notes subscribed with the

initial N. will point out the unusual interpolations or substitutions

made upon the original text by Niccols; as the [brackets] in the text

also show the words, lines, and passages wholly omitted in the edition

of 1610.

[32] To select only three may be sufficient. “I account (says Sir

Philip Sydney, in the _Defence of Poesy_) the Mirrour of Magistrates

meetly furnished of beautiful parts.” That profound critic, Edmund

Bolton, says: “Among the lesser late poets, George Gascoigne’s work

may be endur’d. But the best of those times (if _Albion’s England_ be

not preferr’d) for our business is, the _Mirrour of Magistrates_, and

in that Mirrour Sackvil’s Induction,” &c. And Oldys, in his preface

before _The British Muse_, examining the reign of Elizabeth, observes:

“At that time came out the fine collection, called _The Mirror for

Magistrates_. This piece was done by several hands. It represents

pathetically the falls of many great and unfortunate men of our nation,

and beautifully advises others to avoid following their example.

Besides the particular praises given this work by Sir Philip Sidney

and Mr. Edmund Bolton, (another judicious critick, who writes not long

after him;) that it received the general approbation, appears from its

having been three or four times reprinted. Every impression had new

additions from other eminent hands, amongst whom the Earl of Dorset is

not the least conspicuous.”

[33] John Higgins was born about 1544. He was educated at Christ

Church, and in 1572 describes himself as late student at Oxford. He

did not learn the tongues or begin to write until he was twenty years

of age, and then studied, chiefly, French and Latin. At twenty-five he

taught grammar for about two years, and spent as much time in enlarging

Huloet’s Dictionary. He also translated phrases from Aldus, the Flowers

of Terence, and wrote, with divers other works, the first part of the

Mirror for Magistrates before he was thirty. This brief account is

related by himself in some lines preserved in a note at the end of the

legend of Mempricius. (See vol. i. p. 102.) In December 1586, while

residing at Winsham, in Somersetshire, or, as Wood has it, in Surrey,

he prepared and edited, as already noticed, the best edition extant of

the present work. Before 1602, it is not improbable, he had established

a school at Winsham, or taken orders, for in that year he published a

tract upon a subject of theological controversy. The time of his death

is uncertain. For a list of his works see Wood’s _Athenæ Oxonienses_,

vol. i. col. 734, ed. 1813.

[34] Thomas Blenerhasset was probably a descendant from the ancient

family of that name which flourished in Norfolk temp. Hen. 8. of whom

Jane B. is named by Skelton in _the Crown of Laurel_ as one of the bevy

of beauties attendant upon the noble Countess of Surrey; and John B.

married the daughter of Sir John Cornwallis, knt. the steward of the

household to Prince Edward. Our author was educated at Cambridge, and

having adopted a military life, was in 1577 stationed in the Island of

Guernsey, and there composed his portion of the present work. As the

printer, in the following year, tells us the author was “beyond the

seas,” it is probable he had then accompanied his regiment to Ireland,

where he went as a captain, settled and “purchased an estate. He died

about the beginning of the reign of King Charles I. and was the author

of _Directions for the Plantation in Ulster_, London, 1610.” _History

and Antiquities of Ireland, by Walter Harris_, 1764, vol. ii. p. 333.

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

[36] George Ferrers was born at or near St. Albans, in Hertfordshire,

educated at Oxford, and afterwards became a barrister of Lincoln’s

Inn. In his juridical pursuit he published, _The great Charter called

in latyn Magna Carta, with diuers olde statvtes_, &c. Colophon, _Thus

endeth the booke called Magna Carta translated out of Latyn and Frenshe

into Englysshe by George Ferrers. Imprynted at London in Paules

church yerde at the signe of the Maydens head by Thomas Petyt._ M. D.

XLII. An earlier edition was printed without date. He was a polished

courtier, and esteemed favourite with Henry the 8th, although that

capricious monarch, for some offence, the nature of which has not been

discovered, committed him to prison in 1542, in which year he was

returned member of parliament for the town of Plymouth. The anger of

the king was probably not of long duration, as, in addition to other

rewards, he bequeathed him a legacy of an hundred marks. He appears

to have served in the suite of the protector Somerset, and was one

of the commissioners in the army in the expedition into Scotland. By

Edward the VIth he was made Lord of Misrule: an appointment to which

genius and talent only could pretend, or give its needed prominence

and effect. A warrant was issued, on the 30th November, 1552, to pay

him, being appointed to be Lord of the Pastimes for the Christmas,

100_l._ towards the necessary charges. And the honest chronicler

Stowe, gives the following account of the jovial pastime and eclat

which attended the keeping this annual feast. “The king kept his

Christmas with open houshold at Greenewich, George Ferrers gentleman

of Lincolns Inne, being lord of the merrie disportes all the twelue

daies, who so pleasantly and wisely behaued himselfe, that the king

had great delight in his pastimes. On Monday the fourth of January,

the said lord of merry disportes came by water to London, and landed

at the tower wharfe, entered the tower, and then rode through tower

streete, where he was receiued by Sergeant Vawce lord of misrule, to

John Mainard one of the Sherifs of London, and so conducted through

the citie with a great company of yoong lords and gentlemen to the

house of sir George Barne lord maior, where he with the chiefe of his

company dined, and after had a great banket, and at his departure, the

lord maior gaue him a standing cup with a couer of siluer and gilt, of

the value of ten pound for a reward, and also set a hogshead of wine

and a barrel of beere at his gate for his traine that followed him:

the residue of his gentlemen and seruants dined at other aldermens

houses, and with the sherifs, and so departed to the tower wharfe

againe, and to the court by water, to the great commendation of the

maior and aldermen, and highly accepted of the king and councell.” In

the reign of queen Elizabeth he again held the appointment of Lord of

Misrule in the court, and as such devised and penned a poetical address

which was spoken to her majesty before _the princely pleasures of

Kenelworth-castle_, 1576. He is one of the most prominent contributors

to the Mirror for Magistrates, and was undoubtedly intimate with

all the leading persons that assembled together for the purpose of

completing that work. I think it is probable that the edition of 1578,

which has many exclusive alterations, and his two legends of the Duke

and Duchess of Gloucester, so long withheld, then first inserted,

was edited by him. He died at Flamstead in Hertfordshire, whereupon

administration was granted May 18, 1579.

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

[38] Thomas Chaloner, born in London about the year 1515, was descended

from an ancient family of Denbigh in Wales. He studied at both

Universities. Having accompanied Sir Henry Knevet, embassador from

Hen. VIII. to the emperor Charles Vth, he afterwards was with that

emperor in the expedition against Algiers in 1541. Upon his return

to his native country, he became a favourite with the protectour

Somerset, and for his gallant conduct at the battle of Musselburgh in

1547, “the protectour,” says Lloyd, “honoured him with a knighthood,

and his Lady with a jewel, the delicate and valiant man at once

pleasing Mars and his Venus too.” He went embassador with Sir William

Pickering into France, 1553. Being a consistent protestant, he remained

unshaken during the turbulent period of Queen Mary, devoting his time

in retirement to literature, and then wrote his contribution to the

Mirrour for Magistrates. Immediately upon the accession of Elizabeth,

he was again called into active life, and successively her embassadour

to the Emperor Ferdinand, and to Philip king of Spain, from which last,

in consequence of his irksome situation, he obtained a recal in 1564,

by addressing an Elegy, written in imitation of Ovid, to Elizabeth.

He probably did not afterwards meddle with public affairs, dying at

his own residence which he had built upon Clerkenwell Close, on Oct.

10th, 1565, and on the 20th was buried at St. Paul’s. His publications

are enumerated in the _Biographia Britannica_, and Wood’s _Ath. Oxon._

Vol. I. col. 346; but his productions as an English poet are of recent

discovery. In the _Nugæ Antiquæ_, edited by Mr. Park, 1804, Vol. II.

p. 372, is the Epistle of _Helen to Paris_, translated from Ovid, by

Sir Thomas Chaloner, Knt. which, from the date of the manuscript, and

the contemporary testimony, now first discovered, in proof of his

having indulged his Muse in her native tongue, may with confidence be

assigned to his pen. The authority for the appropriation to him of the

Legend of the Duke of Norfolk, is given in Vol. II. p. 53. In that

authority he is called _Master Chaloner_ some years after his obtaining

knighthood, and from that circumstance George Puttenham might allude

to him when he praises “For Eglogue and pastorall poesie, Sir Philip

Sydney and _Maister Challenner_, and that other Gentleman who wrate the

late shepheardes callender,” although otherwise from the date of the

_Art of Poesy_, being 1580, it might rather be transferred to his son,

who was born 1559, and is said to have discovered at the University

extraordinary talents in Latin and English poetry.

[39] Thomas Phaer is supposed to have been born in Pembrokeshire. He

was educated, at Oxford, and afterwards became a student in the inns

of court, and describes himself in 1558 “Sollicitour to the king and

quenes maiesties, attending their honorable counsaile in the Marches of

Wales.” From some unknown circumstance he suddenly quitted the practice

of the law for that of physick, obtaining his degrees at Oxford,

and was confirmed doctor March 21, 1558-9. In both professions his

ready pen contributed several popular works to promote their general

practice. As a poet, the first appearance of his name is prefixed to a

few lines before Peter Betham’s _Precepts of War_, 1543. In May 1555,

then residing in a house, which he possessed for a long term of years,

in Kilgarran Forest, Pembrokeshire, he began to translate the Æneid

of Virgil into English rhyme, which had not before been attempted. In

this he proceeded at his leisure, and printed the first seven books

in 1558, which were afterwards continued as far as part of the tenth,

and left incomplete by his death. This work obtained him considerable

reputation with contemporary scholars and critics. He was esteemed by

William Webbe in the _Discourse of English Poetry_, 1586, as the best

of those who had taken profitable pains in translating the Latin poets:

and the encomiast also gives passages from the translation in proof of

his own assertion of the meetness of our speech to receive the best

form of poetry. Puttenham also praises “Phaer and Golding for a learned

and well corrected verse, specially in translation, clear and very

faithfully answering their author’s intent.” All that could be found

of this work was added to the part already in print, and posthumously

published by his friend William Wightman in 1562, who has given two

verses at the end of the volume received from Phaer the day before his

death, subscribed with his left hand, the use of the right being taken

away through the hurt whereof he died. His will, dated August 12, 1560,

was proved the June following, and he thereby directed his “boddie to

be buried in the parish church of Kilgarran, [adding] with a stone

vppon my grave in manner of a marble stone with suche scripture there

vpon grauen, in brasse, as shalbe deuised by my friende master George

Ferris.” An epitaph upon him is to be found with _Eglogs, Epytaphes,

and Sonnettes, newly written by Barnaby Googe_, 1563, or in Reed’s

_Shakespeare_, vol. ii. p. 103, n. and a Latin one by the author

described in the last note, in the _Miscellanea Chaloneri_, 1579.

[40] William Baldwin is supposed by Wood to have been a

west-countryman, and having studied several years in logic and

philosophy at Oxford, supplicated for a degree in arts in January

1532. The scanty materials of his life neither shew his early pursuits

nor connections. In 1549 he subscribes himself “seruaunt with Edwarde

Whitchurche,” the printer; but what was his immediate station and

dependance upon the press is uncertain, although he appears to have

found employment therefrom for several years. It is conjectured by

Herbert, that he was “one of those scholars who followed printing in

order to forward the reformation,” and therefore submitted to the

labour of correcting the press. Whatever department he filled, he was

not considered an unfit associate by the best scholars. Besides, he was

a court poet, as is shown by the following note from the _Apology_, by

Mr. G. Chalmers. “A letter was written, on the 28th January, 1552-3,

to Sir Thomas Carwerden, the master of the revels, to furnish William

Baldwin, who was appointed to set forth a Play, before the King, upon

Candlemas-day, at night, with all necessaries.” That he was very little

dependant upon this occupation, appears by his answer to the printer,

on his being counselled by many “both honourable and worshipful,” to

continue Lydgate; for he refused “utterly to undertake it.” Such an

answer to the solicitations of those who by birth and pursuits must

have been considered the patrons of literature, can be little expected

from the “servant” of the printer. In 1563 he tells his reader he has

“bene called to another trade of lyfe,” and believed to have then

taken orders, and commenced schoolmaster. With the exception of Sir

Thomas Chaloner, he was probably the oldest man of the number who met

by general assent to devise the continuation of Lydgate, and therefore

made to 'vsurpe Bochas rome’, to hear the complaints of the princes:

But another reason for fixing upon him, might be his long connection

with the press. One of the earliest of his pieces was _a treatise of

Moral Philosophy_, printed for E. Whitchurche, 1549, and speedily,

and unblushingly adopted by Thomas Palfreyman. This compilation was

nearly as popular as the Mirror for Magistrates, and went through many

editions. “Keepe a smooth plain forme in my eloquence (says Tom Nash)

as one of the Lacedemonian Ephori, or Baldwin in his morrall sentences,

which now are all snatched up for painters’ posies.” (_Haue with you to

Saffron Walden_, 1596.) He also penned _The Funeralles of King Edward

the sixt_, “before his corse was buryed,” though not printed until

1560. The furniture of this poem seems a retouching after the Mirrour

was commenced, vide _British Bibliographer_, Vol. II. p. 97. His other

pieces are all enumerated in Wood’s _Ath. Ox._ Vol. I. col. 342. At

what place and when he died is not known. There was a William Baldwin

of Barrowe in the County of Lincoln, who died 1567, possessing Lands

and Tenements in the territories of Normandy, Therilbie, Darbie, and

Burton co. Lincoln; leaving four sons, William, Thomas, Edward, and

Francis: but it is not easy to identify either father or son with our

“Baldwyne’s worthie name,

whose Mirrour doth of Magistrates

Proclayme eternal! fame.”

_Heywood._ 1560.

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

[42] John Dolman was student and fellow of the Inner Temple. He

translated _Those fyue Questions which Marke Tullye Cicero disputed in

his manor of Tusculanum_, 1561.

[43] Thomas Sackville was born at Buckhurst, in the parish of Withiam,

in the county of Sussex. He was the only son of Sir Richard Sackville,

knight, Chancellor of the Court of Augmentation to King Edward the

VIth. afterwards to Q. Mary, and Under Treasurer of the Exchequer to

Q. Elizabeth, (by Winifred Brydges); at whose death the jury upon the

inquisition found that he died 21st April, in the eighth year of the

reign of Elizabeth (1566), leaving his son Thomas S. then twenty-nine

years of age, thereby making the time of his birth in 1537, a year

later than that mentioned by all his biographers. Probably it should

stand 1536-7. He was first sent to Hart-hall, Oxford, but removed

to Cambridge, where he took the degree of Master of Arts, and was

celebrated as a Latin and English poet at both universities. Like

Phaer, Ferrers, and other contemporary wits, he was entered in the

Inner Temple, and so far persevered in the study of the law as to

be called to the bar. The earliest effort of his unrivalled genius

that has been preserved was a joint production, and forms the first

legitimate tragedy existing in our language. It was called by the

authors _Ferrex_ and _Porrex_, but is more generally known as the

tragedy of _Gorboduc_, and only composed for “furniture of part of

the grand Christmas,” or revels, a species of amusement that combined

dramatic representations with feasts and balls, and then occasionally

kept with great magnificence by the society of the Inner Temple. This

dramatic piece was first performed by the students in their hall,

and afterwards by them on the 18th Jan. 1561, before Elizabeth at

Whitehall. In this composition he is supposed to have assisted Thomas

Norton, as, according to the title of the spurious edition of the play,

of 1565, “three actes were written by Thomas Nortone, and the two laste

by Thomas Sackvyle;” but the authorised edition of 1570, only extends

to say it was “never intended by the authors thereof to be published,”

and without attempting any thing like the above apportionment. The

claim of Norton has been repeatedly doubted. Warton observes thereon:

“The force of internal evidence often prevails over the authority of

assertion, a testimony which is diminished by time, and may be rendered

suspicious from a variety of other circumstances. Throughout the whole

piece, there is an invariable uniformity of diction and versification.

Sackville has two poems of considerable length in the Mirrour of

Magistrates, which fortunately furnish us with the means of comparison:

and every scene of Gorboduc is visibly marked with his characteristical

manner, which consists in a perspicuity of style, and a command of

numbers, superior to the tone of his times. Thomas Norton’s poetry is

of a very different and a subordinate cast.” Certainly all the choruses

bear such strong similarity to our author’s style and versification, as

to leave no question of his well-founded claim to the entire outline

of the whole performance. There cannot here be omitted: “the Order

and Signification of the Domme Shew before the fourth Act. First the

musick of howeboies began to playe, during which there came from under

the stage, as though out of hell, three furies, Alecto, Megera, and

Ctisiphone, clad in blacke garmentes sprinkled with bloud and flames,

their bodies girt with snakes, their heds spred with serpentes instead

of haire, the one bearing in her hand a snake, the other a whip, and

the third a burning firebrand; ech driving before them a king and

a queene, which moved by furies unnaturally had slaine their owne

children. The names of the kings and queenes were these, Tantalus,

Medea, Athamas, Ino, Cambises, Althea; after that the furies and these

had passed about the stage thrise, they departed, and than the musick

ceased: hereby was signified the unnaturall murders to follow, that is

to say: Porrex slaine by his owne mother; and of king Gorboduc, and

queen Videna, killed by their owne subjects.” This shadowing out of

the plot, and the extraordinary characters to be personified in the

procession, are too similar to the model upon which the Mirror for

Magistrates was to have been completed, had he carried his own plan

into effect, to let us doubt, without supposing the author a mannerist,

that the composing the Induction and the drama were nearly coeval, and

that before entering his twenty-fifth year he had entirely forsaken

the Muse. This circumstance leads to an inquiry of his other poetical

effusions, which are supposed to be lost, or remain undiscovered.

Jasper Heywood, in a poetical address before his translation of the

tragedy of Thyestes, 1560, has the following lines:

There _Sackvylde’s_ SONNETS sweetly sauste,

And featly fyned bee:

There _Norton’s_ DITTIES do delight,

There _Yelverton’s_ do flee

Well pewrde with pen: such yong men three

As weene thou mightst agayne,

To be begotte as Pallas was

Of myghtie Jove his brayne.

Warton, in a note on the first line, remarks: “I have never seen his

SONNETS, which would be a valuable accession to our old poetry. But

probably the term _Sonnets_ here means only verses in general, and

may signify nothing more than his part in the Mirror of Magistrates

and his Gorboduc.” An oversight of the critic leaves this conjecture

without any weight. The above lines were in print before either the

communication was made to the Mirror for Magistrates, or the play

performed. Several other writers are named by Heywood, in the same

address, also their works, and those works known; the _sonnets_ of

Sackville and the _ditties_ of Norton and Yelverton excepted. This

circumstance may well support a belief of their having been published

as well as the others: neither is there any thing improbable that the

_sonnets_ and _ditties_ of “such yong men three” were united in one

volume, however it has hitherto escaped all research. There is a single

sonnet by our author which shall be here preserved as not an inelegant

relic of his pen. It is prefixed to _The Courtier of Count Baldessar

Castilio_, done into english by Sir Thomas Hoby, who died embassadour

at Paris 13 July, 1566, æt. 36, and was buried at Bisham, co. Berks.

This translation was printed 1561, 1577, 1588, (the last supplying the

present copy,) again 1603, where the sonnet is omitted.

Thomas Sackeuyll in commendation of the worke.

To the Reader.

These royall kinges, that reare vp to the skye

Their pallace tops, and deck them all with gold:

With rare and curious workes they feede the eye:

And shew what riches here great princes hold.

A rarer worke and richer far in worth,

Castilio’s hand presenteth here to thee:

No proude, ne golden Court doth he set forth,

But what in Court a Courtier ought to be.

The prince he raiseth huge and mightie walles,

Castilio frames a wight of noble fame:

The king with gorgeous tissue clads his halles,

The Count with golden vertue deckes the same;

Whose passing skill, lo, Hobbie’s pen displaies,

To Britaine folk, a work of worthy praise.

Sackville, the junior of nearly all his compeers and associates, during

this short career of his Muse,[44] had also to sustain the labour

and restlessness of politics. He was elected member for Westmorland,

and sat in parliament the 4th and 5th of Philip and Mary. Upon the

accession of Elizabeth, he represented Sussex at the time his father

did Kent, and in 1562, upon the latter being chosen for Sussex, he was

returned one of the members for Buckinghamshire. He early obtained

the confidence of Elizabeth, (to whom he was related, as first cousin

by his grand mother to Anne Boleyn), being, in his younger years, “by

her particular choice and liking, selected to a continual private

attendance upon her own person,” and is named in D’Ewes Journal, March

17, 1563, as conveying a message from her to the House of Commons,

relative to making an “allowance for Justices Diets,” &c. About this

period he visited France, Italy, and Rome, where, for some imprudency

of a pecuniary nature, he was detained prisoner for fourteen days. On

the death of his father he returned to England. His prodigal taste for

splendour was first checked and finally stopped by the influence and

admonitions of his royal relative, who, it is said, “would not know

him, till he began to know himself.” On the 8th of June, 1567, he was

knighted in her presence by the Duke of Norfolk, and created Baron

of Buckhurst. In 1573 he was sent ambassador to France, and in the

following year sat on the trial of the Earl of Arundel, being styled

the Queen’s beloved and faithful counsellor. In 1586 he was nominated

a commissioner on the trial of Mary Queen of Scots. In 1587 he went

ambassador to the States General, but recalled by the influence of the

Earl of Leicester and Lord Burleigh, and confined to his house, by the

queen’s command, for nine months, when, upon the death of the Earl of

Leicester, he was immediately restored to presence and favour, and on

April 24, 1589, without previous intimation, made Knight of the Garter.

In January 1591-2 he was elected Chancellor of the University of

Oxford. On the 15th March, 1599, after the death of Lord Burleigh, he

was appointed Lord High Treasurer; the patent whereof was renewed for

life on the accession of King James, by whom, in 1603, he was created

Earl of Dorset, and appointed one of the commissioners for executing

the office of Lord Marshal. He died suddenly at the council table

at Whitehall on April 19th, 1608, and being taken to Dorset house,

Whitefriars, was embowelled and so much of him buried on the 20th, at

Saint Bride’s Fleetstreet. Much state ceremony and solemnity followed,

and after a lapse of above a month there was _A Sermon preached at

Westminster May 26, 1608, at the Fvnerall Solemnities of the Right

Honorable Thomas Earle of Dorset, late L. High Treasurer of England:

By George Abbott Doctor of Diuinitie and Deane of Winchester one of

his Lordships Chaplines_.[45] 1608. qto. It does not appear that these

funeral solemnities were followed with enterment at the Abbey. No tomb

exists, and by his will one thousand pounds was given for the building

of a chapel at Withiam, Sussex, where his ancestors lay, directing his

remains to be there deposited; which is also alluded to in the sermon.

Lloyd gives him the following character: “He was a very fine gentleman

of person and endowments both of art and nature. His elocution is much

commended, but the excellency of his pen more; for he was a scholar

and a person of quick faculties, very facete and choice in his phrase

and style. He was wise and stout, nor was he any ways insnared in the

factions of the Court, which were all his time very strong. He stood

still in grace and was wholly intentive to the Queen’s service; and

such were his abilities, that she received assiduous proofs of his

sufficiency.” As early as the first year of the reign of Philip and

Mary his Lordship married his kinswoman, Cecile daughter of Sir John

Baker, of Sisinghurst, co. Kent, knt. who survived him, and died Oct.

1st. 1615.

[44] It has been said he wrote the Epilogue to Ben Jonson’s comedy of

Every Man in his Humour, acted 1598: but was there any epilogue to

the play when first performed? Charles Lord Buckhurst, sixth Earl of

Dorset, supplied an epilogue on the revival of that play, which may be

found with other pieces by him, in the _Miscellany Poems_, by Dryden,

vol. v.

[45] Dr. Abbott had but an imperfect knowledge of the productions of

his patron. In one passage he says: “His yoonger daies, the time of

his scholarship when first in that famous Vniuersitie of Oxford and

afterward in the Temple (where he tooke the degree of Barister) he gave

tokens of such pregnancie, such studiousnesse, and iudgment, that he

was held no way inferiour to any of his time or standing. And of this

there remaine good tokens both in English and in Latin published vnto

the world.” A marginal note explains the “good tokens” by the legend

undoubtedly written by Ferrers, called “The life of Tresilian. in the

Mirrour of Magistr. [and] _Epist. prefix. Aulic. Barth. Clerke_.” 1571.

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

[47] Francis Dingley was probably author as well of the Legend of James

IV. as that of Flodden Field, and both composed very recently after the

events they record took place. Not any discovery has been made relative

to the life of the author.

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

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

[50] Richard Niccols was the offspring of respectable parents residing

in London, and born about 1584. When about twelve years of age he

embarked in a vessel called the Ark, which sailed with the expedition

against Cadiz in June 1596, and was present at the great and complete

victory obtained both by sea and land on that occasion. Whether this

voyage was the result of boyish ardour, or that he was originally

intended to be actively employed for his country in either marine

or military service, is not known. He appears on his return to have

resumed his studies, and in 1602 was entered a student in Magdalen

College, Oxford. He took the degree of bachelor of arts in 1606, and

was then esteemed among the “ingenious persons of the university.”

In 1610, he impliedly says, he should have continued the Mirror for

Magistrates further, if his own affairs would have suffered him to

proceed, but being called away by other employments, he of force left

the completion to others. What designation those employments gave him

for the remainder of his life, beyond that of a poet, is not known.

In that character his talents would appear over-rated by Headley,

who considered him “a poet of great elegance and imagination,” had

not Warton, unwittingly, gone further. Niccols, on reprinting the

Induction, found the rhyme too perfect, and the language too polished,

to allow the attempting any of his supposed emendations; but towards

the conclusion of the poem, he was bold enough to reject one stanza,

and foist in four of his own composing; and it is to his credit that

Warton, in analysing the whole, reprinted two of those, as the genuine

production of Sackville.[51] Such a compliment cannot be exceeded. He

first published _The Cuckow_, 1607, quarto, and he says, “Cuckow-like

of _Castae’s_ wrongs, in rustick tunes did sing.” 2. He reprinted the

_Mirror for Magistrates_, in 1610, edited in a manner that had left

his volume without any value, but for the adding his own poems: viz.

First _the fall of Princes_, and last _A Winter Night’s Vision_. This

Vision was probably composed as long before as August 1603, as that was

the last calamitous year when the plague ravaged extensively previous

to its being published.[52] On that occasion our author retired for

safety to Greenwich; where wandering through the walks, long-favoured

by Elizabeth, the circumstance of it being her natal place, combined

with her then recent death, appears to have awakened his youthful Muse

to attempt this metrical history of her life. 3. His next effusion

was _The Three Sisters Teares, shed at the late Solemne Funerals of

the Royall deceased Henry Prince of Wales_, &c. 1613, qto. 4. _The

Fvries, with Vertves Encomium, or, the Image of Honour. In two bookes

of Epigrammes._ 1614. oct. 5. _Monodia, or Waltham’s Complaint vpon the

death of that most_ _vertuous and noble Ladie lately deceased, the Lady

Honor Hay_, &c. 1615. oct. 6. _London’s Artillery, briefly containing

the noble practise of that worthie Societie_, &c. 1616, qto. For an

account of this Poem, see _British Bibliographer_, Vol. I. p. 363. 7.

_Sir Thomas Overbury’s Vision_, &c. 1616. Reprinted in the _Harleian

Miscellany_, 1811. Vol. VII. p. 178. The author makes the ghost of

Overbury, in his address to him, say,

O thou mortal wight!

Whose mournful muse, but whilome, did recite

Our Britain’s princes and their woeful fates

In that true 'Mirrour of our Magistrates.’

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

330.

[52] See the Induction: However, according to Stowe, there was not any

Lord Mayor’s Show for three years after 1605 “by reason of continuall

sickness.”

[53] Hee. edit. 1575.

[54] Will you that I rehearse. ib.

[55] Of. ed. 1575.

[56] Of. ib.

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

[58] Veritie: [but for so much as the above named virtue by Plotinus

his iudgement hath such excellent properties it is so fit in a

Magistrate, that] I surely &c. ib.

[59] Facts estates fortunes, ib.

[60] Yet. ib.

[61] Yea and though. ib.

[62] And. ib.

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

[64] Yea and though. ib.

[65] Be. ib.

[66] He is not counted bolde, manly and constant but made beastly and

desperate. I will also sith I haue gone so farre with the vertues (and

the place so vrgeth) lastly set downe the difinition of Temperaunce,

according to Cicero his opinion. Temperaunce (saith he) is of reason,

&c. ib.

[67] Vertue hath three, ib.

[68] Well and wisely.

[69] An immoderate, ib.

[70] Also to. ib.

[71] Learnedly touched. ib.

[72] Other. ib.

[73] Further. [Onely I would to God it were so ofte read and regarded

of all Magistrates as the matter requireth.] ib.

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

[75] Not in first edit.

[76] And. ed. 1575.

[77] Can do farre better, either with eloquence to amend that is amisse

in mine, or else when they see these so rudely pende, to publish their

own, ib.

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

[79] From edition, 1587.

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

1610.

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

epistle of 1575.

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

[83] Higins, by correcting what he had wrote before, re-composed

several passages: The first three stanzas of the Induction are thus

varied in the edition of 1575.

As Somer sweete with all hir pleasures past,

And leaues began to leaue both braunche and tree,

While winter cold approched neere full faste,

Mee thought the time to sadnes moued mee

On drouping daies not half such mirth haue wee,

As when the time of yeare and wether’s fayre,

So moue our mindes as mocions moue the ayre.

The wearye nightes approched on apace

With darksom shades which somewhat breedeth care,

The Sun hath take more neere the earth his race,

In Libra than his greatest swinge he bare,

For pardy then the daies more colder are,

Then fades the greene fruite timely, herbes are don,

And wynter ginnes to waste that Sommer won,

I deemde some booke of mourning theame was beste

To reade, wherwith instructions mingled so

As migh[t] againe refresh my wittes oppreste,

With tediousnes not driue mee quyte therfro:

Wherfore I went the printer’s straight vnto,

To seeke some woorke of price I surely mente

That might herein my carefull mynde contente.

[84] At leength by hap, ib.

[85] Wynter, ed. 1575.

[86] Not leaue with once, ib.

[87] Tell, ib.

[88] Pleading, ib.

[89] May. ib.

[90] More cleare then any. ib.

[91] Which, ib.

[92] His. ib.

[93] Thus in first edition.

Me thinkes they might beware by others harme,

And eke eschue to clammer vp so hye:

Yet cursed pryde doth all their wittes becharme,

They thinke of naught but prouerbes true do trie:

Who hewes aloft the chips may hurte his eye:

Who climes the tops of trees, wher bowes ar smal,

Or hawty towres, may quickly catch a fall.

This thing full well doth Phaëtons fall declare,

And Icarus aloft would flie and soare:

Eke Bladud once of Britayne rule that bare,

Would clyme and flie, but eache did fal therfore:

For Phaëton was with lightning all to tore,

And Icarus the meane that did not recke,

Was drownde; by fal did Bladud breake his neck.

The scriptures eake of such beare witnes can;

As Babilon for high presumption fell:

But let me ende my tale--

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

[95] My. ib.

[96]

Methoughte nothing my minde from them could take,

So long as Somnus suffered me to wake. ib.

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

appeared. N.

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

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

[100] Vnhappy princes were of yore. ib.

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

first edit.

At length hee foorth his seruant Morpheus calde,

And bad him shewe mee from the first to th’ ende,

Such persones as in Britayne Fortune thralde:

Which straight vpon his calling did attende,

And thus hee spake with countenaunce of frende,

“Come on thy wayes and thou shalt see and here,

“The Britaynes and their doinges what they were.”

And as he led me through the darkes a whyle,

At length wee came into a goodly hall,

At th’ ende wherof there seemde a duskish Ile:

Out of the which hee gan the Britaynes call,

Such only as from Fortune’s hap did fall:

Which when he called thryce, me seemde to heare,

The doores to cracke from whence they should appeare.

And thryce I shrinkte aside and shund the sight:

And three times thryce I wishte myselfe away:

Eke thryce from thence there flew a flashe of light,

Three times I sawe them coming make their staye:

At laste they all approchte in such array,

With sundrie shewes, appearing vnto mee,

A straunger sighte then erste with eyes I see.

Men mighty bigge, in plaine and straunge attyre,

But some with wounds and bloud were so disguisde,

You scarcely could with reasons ayde aspire,

To know what warre such cruell death deuisde:

But sithe I haue their formes beneath comprisde,

Wheras their stories seuerally I showe,

Your selfe therby their cause of death may know.

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

[103] Make my fearful harte. ib.

[104] For my life eschewe. ib.

[105] Their, ib.

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

[107] Globe, ib.

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

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

[110] Vnquoth, N.

[111] But thus. ed. 1575.

[112] Some copies of Niccols have a castration of this Induction with

some trifling difference of orthography.

[113] The story of Brutus, or Brute, as here related by his son

Albanact, closely versifies the principal incidents of his history

given in the Chronicle of Saint Albans; an authority probably referred

to by Higgins in the prefaratory address as “an olde chronicle

imprinted the year 1515,” that being the date of one of the editions

printed by W. de Worde.

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

[115] Behold mee here. N.

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

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

So if thou liste to heare what I recite,

If thou intende to showe my fatall fall:

I praye thee take the paynes my tale to wryte,

As I in order here repeate it shall,

What nedst thou muse? thou nedst not feare at all.

Syth those that later liu’de their tales haue tolde,

Our elder liues to write thou mayst be bolde.

[118] Dreade, ed. 1575.

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

[120] Of. N.

[121]

Then why he flying from the Latin land

Did saile the seas and found the Briton strand. N.

[122] Greeuous. ed. 1575.

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

Well nowe I see thou putst apart thy fright,

(And giuste an eare to heare not heard before)

I will declare the storie all so right,

Thou shalt no whit haue neede t’inquire no more;

Do marke me well what I recite therefore,

And after write it and therewith my name,

Let hardly me receiue if ought be blame.

[124]

And reign’de iii yeares, Ascanius then his sonne,

Reignde next to him, eke Siluius was his heyre,

Begate my father, of a Lady fayre. ib.

[125] Strook. N.

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

[127]

But when as _Brutus_ fiftene yeares was olde,

(For so they calde my father by his name)

With _Siluius_ then a hunting goe he would,

And thinking for to strike in chace the game,

His father that by chaunce beyonde it came,

Receiude the glaunce and through his tender syde,

With deadly dint, the shaft did swiftly slyde. ed. 1575.

[128]

So though by chaunce my father Brutus slewe,

My grandsyre _Siluius_, sore against his will:

Which came by chaunce as he his arrow drewe,

That thought the fearfull Harte, not him to kill:

Yet was he banisht from Italia still: &c. ib.

[129] Thither. N.

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

[131] My father all this. ib.

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

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

[134] Thus. 1575.

[135] All. ib.

[136] His post vnto the. ib.

[137] He. ib.

[138] Then whyle King. ib.

[139] My father with. ib.

[140] Him. ib.

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

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

[143]

And when the king had calde to mynde his foyle,

His flighte, and brother by the Troianes take. ib.

[144] And Brutus had. ib.

[145] By night my father. ib.

[146] He. ib.

[147] My father. ib.

[148]

Which victorie when he had wisely won,

The Trojane victour did a counsayle call,

To knowe what best were with the king be don;

Now tell (q’ he) what ransom aske we shall:

On which when none agreed scarce of all,

At length Mempricius vp from seate did ryse

And silence made, gaue thus his counsayle wise. ib.

[149] Troianes. ed. 1575.

[150] The fact. ib.

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

[152] We rather ought. ib.

[153] All do wayle. ib.

[154] Lady. ib.

[155]

And by hir wisdome, cheere and parentes loue,

Doth vs, and Brutus, both to pitie moue. ib.

[156]

Yet some will saye, he should depriued bee,

Of kingdome quite, and worthy Brutus should

Receiue the scepter, this misliketh mee,

To this vniustice, Brutus, if we could

Consent, I deeme, agree he neuer would,

So much himselfe ambitiously t’ abuse,

Or else a king vnkindly so to vse, ib.

[157]

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

[158]

For kingdomes sake a king at home to kill

Were farre to bad, within his natiue lande:

Though he by right or wrong directed still,

His force gainst vs, that did him so withstande:

The king hath therfore ay the sworde in hand,

If any kicke against his pointes of lawe:

To cut them of, or keepe them vnder awe. ed. 1575.

[159]

’Tis best, O Brutus, if thou like her, take

His daughter Innogen vnto thy wyfe:

And let the king a dowry large hir make:

Gold, syluer, shippes, and corne for our reliefe:

With other thinges whereof this lande is rife:

That wee so fraught may seeke some desert shore

Where wee and ours may raigne for euermore. ed. 1575.

[160]

The hateful gods haue yelded mee. ib.

[161]

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

[162]

My father then was married by and by. ib.

[163]

The Troians proud of spoiles and victorie. N.

[164] Leogrece. ed. 1575.

[165]

Where Dian dwelt of whom the Troian crew. N.

[166] In. ib.

[167]

Wherin Diana to such credit grewe:

That sacrifice the Troianes counsayle gaue,

My father make, an aunswere for to haue. ed. 1575.

[168] Efilde with. ib.

[169]

In better sorte then I repeate it here. ib.

[170] Surelie. N.

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

[172] Once. ib.

[173] Aunswere that it. ib.

[174] Affrica. ib.

[175]

From thence they sayled vnto _Saliues_ lake:

Twene _Azaræ_ hilles, and _Ruscitadam_

They paste, from thence to _Maluæ_ floud they gate

To _Hercules_ his pillers sight they came:

And then to Tuscan seas whereas by fame,

Not far from shore, like minded mates they finde,

Foure banisht races of the Troian kinde. ib.

[176] Calde. ib.

[177] For. ib.

[178]

My father did so frendely vse this man,

He was content and all his men besyde:

To trie aduentures by my fathers guyde. ib.

[179] This Stanza not in the first edit.

[180] Then. ib.

[181] And. ib.

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

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

[184] My father. ib.

[185] My father’s. ib.

[186]

----voide of breath,

Which pincht my fathers hart as pangs of death. ib.

[187] Cleeues. N.

[188] None. ed. 1575.

[189] But. ib.

[190]

My father had no cause but like it well

And gaue his souldiers places in to dwell. ib.

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

[192] My father. ib.

[193] Sith. ib.

[194] Whereby his stock. ed. 1575.

[195] “Brute the fyrst King of Brytons, bylded & edefyed this cyte

of London, the fyrst cyte of Brytayn, in remembraunce of the cyte of

Troye, that was destroyed, and called it Troyeneweth and Trinouantum,

that is newe Troye.” _Trevisa’s Polychronicon._ B. 1. C. xlvii.

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

[197] Of children erste. ib.

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

[199] Then. ib.

[200]

Those mightie people borne of Giants brood,

That did possesse this Ocean-bounded land,

They did subdue, who oft in battell stood

Gainst them in field, vntill by force of hand

They were made subiect vnto _Brutes_ command.

Such boldnes then did in the Briton dwell,

That they in deedes of valour did excell. N.

[201] Surely. N.

[202] Did cause vs feare. N.

[203]

His counsayle all and wee assembled were,

To bid vs hie, or haste there was no nede,

Wee went with them, this newes vs caused feare

Sith so he sent, he was not well in dede, &c. ed. 1575.

[204] Speed. ib.

[205] Doulfull. ib.

[206] I. ib.

[207] You. ib.

[208] Will. ed. 1575.

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

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

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

[212] Loe now. ed. 1575.

[213] And gasped thryse and gaue. ib.

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

[215] Teares. ib.

[216] And so. N.

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

[218] Sayle. ib.

[219] This stanza follows in edit. 1575,

As custome wild wee funerals preparde,

And all with mourning cloathes, and chere did come,

To laye this king on beere we had regarde,

In royall sort, as did his corps become,

His Herce prepard, we brought him to his tombe,

At _Troynouant_ he built, where he did dye,

Was he entombde, his royall corps doth lye.

[220] Flits. ed. 1575.

[221] Or. ed. 1575.

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

[223] Had. ib.

[224] Into three parts. ib.

[225]

----did he arriue,

In hope this lande of Britayne to atchiue. ed. 1575.

In hope to bee the King of Britanie. N.

[226] When by report. N.

[227] Foe-men. N.

[228]

And left my men as flockes without a guide. ed. 1575.

----of deadly wounds I dide,

My souldiers lost their noble prince and guide. N.

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

[230] By my fall beware. N.

[231]

If you repent when life and labours lost.

THE AUTHOUR.

With that the wounded Prince departed quite,

From sight he slinchte, I sawe his shade no more,

But Morpheus bade remember this to write,

And therewithall presented mee before

A wight wet dropping from the water’s shore,

In princely weede, but like a warlike man,

And thus mee thought his story he began.

[232] The author’s continuation, as in first edition, is given in the

preceding note. Nicolls uniformly rejected these connecting lines of

“the authour” as well as those of the later edition entitled “L’envoy.”

[233] Thy. 1575.

[234]

Both from their realme and right: O filthy fye

On such ambition earst as vsed I. ib.

[235] Within. ed. 1575.

[236] The story of Humber is narrated according to the principal

authorities. It is somewhat different in the Chronicle of St. Albans,

which says: “so it befel that this Kynge Humbar was besyde a water that

was a great riuer with his folke for to dysporte hym. And there came

Lotrin and Camber with theyr folke sodaynly or that ony of the other

hoost knew of them. And whan Humbar dyde se them come in aray he was

sore adrad, for as moche as his men wyst it not a fore; and also that

they were vnarmed. And a none Humbar for drede lept in to y^e water and

drowned hymselfe, and so he deyed. And his men were all slayne in so

moche that there escaped not one away on lyue. And therefore is that

water called Humbar and euer more shall be, whyle the worlde is world.”

[237] THE AUTHOURE.

Then vanishte Humber, and no sooner gon

Was he but straight in place before me came,

A princely wight had complet harnesse on,

Though not so complet as they now do frame:

He seemde sometime t’aue bene of worthy fame,

In breste a shafte with bleeding wounde he bare,

And thus be told the cause of all his care. ed. 1575.

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

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

[240] But I. ed. 1575.

[241] Ill. ib.

[242] Force. ib.

[243] And. ib.

[244] So. ed. 1575.

[245] His. ib.

[246] Lovely. N.

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

[248] Euer chaunge my minde. ib.

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

[250] Never. 1575.

[251] “The singuler great loue and affection that he bare vnto the

saide Eastrilde coued not yet out of his minde and be forgotten,

wherfore he made a Caue vnder the ground in the Citie of Troynouant and

enclosed her therein--insomuch as he had the companie of her the space

of vij yeres full, aud none knewe it, but a fewe of his verie familyer

and faythfull friendes.” _Grafton._

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

[253] Rais’d. N.

[254] Or. 1575.

[255] For. N.

[256] Stura stream. 1575.

[257] Fabian varies from the other chronicles by stating the death of

Locrine as in the life time of Gwendoline’s father; as she “beynge

sore discontent, excyted her Fader and frendes to make warre vpon the

sayd Lotryne her husbande. In the which warre, lastly, he was slayne

when he reygned or ruled Loegria, or Logiers, after the concordaunce

of moste wryters XX yers; And was buryed by his Fader in the cytie of

Troynouant.” This might be the authority of our author for relating his

burial at Troynouant as the stanza appears in the first edition.

Then was I brought to Troynouant, and there

My body was enterrid as you reade:

When I had raigned all out twenty yere:

Lo thus I liude and thus became I deade:

Thus was my crowne depriued from my heade,

And all my pompe, my princely troupe and trayne,

And I to earth and duste resolude againe. (1575.)

[258] Now warne estates, ib.

[259] No false deceit deceiues. N.

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

thus

For though ye colour all, with coate of right:

Yet can no fained farde deceiue his sight.

THE AUTHOUR.

With that this king was vanisht quite and gone,

And as a miste dissolued into ayre:

And I was left with Morpheus all alone,

Who represented straight a Lady faire,

Of frendes depriude and left in deepe dispaire:

As eke she spake, all wet in cordes fast bounde,

Thus tolde she how she was in waters drounde.

[261] Woman. ed. 1575.

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

[263] “Eastrildis so farre excelled in bewtie, that none was then

lightly found vnto her comparable, for her skin was so whyte that

scarcely the fynest kind of Iuorie that might be found, nor the snowe

lately fallen downe from the Elament, or the Lylles did passe the

same.” _Grafton._

[264] Was. 1575.

[265] Or. ed. 1575.

[266] For. ib.

[267] Night. N.

[268] T’whom. N.

[269] Manhode. ed. 1575.

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

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

[272] Omitted stanza from ed. 1575.

As for my Queene as yet I none possesse,

Therefore thou rather maiste voutchsafe to take

That place thy selfe, then waite on her I gesse,

Whose beautie with thy face no match can make:

The Gods denye that I thy heste forsake;

I saue thy life, eke God forbid that I

Should euer cause so fayre a Ladie die.

[273] In. ed. 1575.

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

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

[276] Have. ib.

[277] Sayd. ib.

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

[279] So, in both.

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

[281] _i. e._ sorrow.

[282] Attainde. ed. 1575.

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

[284] Radge. ib.

[285] Parents. ib.

[286] Woman. ib.

[287] Ladye fayre. ib.

[288] This. ed. 1575.

[289] Tygres. ib.

[290] Day. N.

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

[292] Seeme. N.

[293]

Ne stoode she still but with hir handes on syde

Walkte vp and down, and oft hir palmes she stroke;

“My husband now (quoth she) had not thus dyde,

“If such an harlot whore he had not tooke:”

And there withall she gaue me such a looke

As made me quake. ed. 1575.

[294] Thee. ib.

[295] Take. ib.

[296] Wyse. ed. 1575.

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

[298] And friends. N.

[299] The. 1575.

[300] Striving, ed. 1575.

[301] A Prince’s wife. N.

[302] Myne. ed. 1675.

[303]

Then warne all Ladies that howe much more hie

Then their degrees they clime, mo daungers nye.

ed. 1575.

[304] Flattery refuse. N.

[305] Turning, ed. 1575.

[306] Then bid beware. ib.

[307] THE AUTHOURE.

With that she flitted in the ayre abrode,

As twere a miste or smooke dissolued quite,

And or I long on this had made abode,

A virgine smale, appearde before my sight,

For colde and wet eke scarsly moue she might.

As from the waters drownd didering came,

Thus wise hir tale in order did she frame.

ed. 1575.

[308] Many of the incidents of the preceding lives are united to form

the plot of “the lamentable Tragedie of Locrine, the eldest son of

King Brutus, discoursinge the warres of the Britaines,” entered in the

Stationers Books 1594. The first act shows Brutus sick, making the

division of the kingdom among his sons Albanact, Humber, and Locrine.

The succeeding acts exhibit their wars on each other, and in the last

is that created by Guendoline against Locrine, concluding with his

death and those of his concubine and daughter the Lady Sabrine. See

Malone’s Supplement, Vol II. p. 189. There is also “an old ballad

of a duke of Cornwall’s daughter,” (Guendoline) inserted in Evans’s

Ballads, 1784, Vol. I. The respective writers appear to have consulted

the Mirror for Magistrates. In the persons represented in the play

the author has chosen to deviate from all chronicle history by making

“Madan, _daughter_ of Locrine and Guendolen.”

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

[310] Elstride or Astrilde, is described by Robert of Gloucester as the

stern Guendoline’s “bed suster, hire lordis concubine.”

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

[312] Eke. N.

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

[314] Thryse. ib.

[315] Little, ed. 1575.

[316] Sclender. ib.

[317] An omitted stanza from ed. 1575.

Thus throughe the hoste he bare me to my bane,

And shewde the Souldiours what a spoyle he had:

“Loke here (quoth he) the litle Princes tane.”

And laught, and ran as brutish butcher mad;

But my lamenting made the souldiours sad,

Yet nought preuailde, the caytife as his pray

Without all pitie bare me still away.

[318] Till. ed. 1575.

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

[320] Some. ib.

[321] Some said the thiefe. ib.

[322] And. ib.

[323] Nought. ib.

[324]

“O Queene (quoth I) God knowes me innocent,

To worke my father’s death I neuer ment.” ed. 1575.

[325] Take. ib.

[326]

This Sabrine hand and foote; at once let see

Her here receyue. ed. 1575.

[327] Which. ib.

[328] Guendoline “made a proclamation throughout all the whole realme

of Briteyn that the same water should be euermore called Habren, after

the maydens name, for so euen at this day is Seuerne called in the

Welsh tongue. And this did she as one desirous to make thereby the name

of the yong mayden immortall, because she was her housband’s daughter.”

_Grafton._

[329] By this. ed. 1575.

[330] Hence. ib.

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

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

[333] THE AUTHOUR.

With that the Lady Sabrine slinckt from sight,

I lookt about and then me thought againe

Approched straight another wofull wight:

It seemde as though with dogs he had bin slaine;

The bloud from all his members torne amaine

Ran downe: his clothes were also torne and rente,

And from his bloudy throte these plaintes he sente. ed. 1575.

[334] That. ed. 1575.

[335] Was. ib.

[336]

Durst none aduenture anger mine t’ aswage

If once to freate and fume I did begin;

And I excelde in nothing els but sinne,

So that wel nighe all men did wishe my ende. ed. 1575.

[337] And. N.

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

[339] This seems a provincial word, as crome is used in Norfolk for a

hook. See _Grose’s Glossary_.

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

[341] Neuer, ed. 1575.

[342] Vast. N.

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

ed. 1575.

Alas that youth (in vayne) so vyly spent,

Should euer cause a king to haue such ende:

Alas that euer I should here lament,

Or else should teache vnto my cost my frende:

Alas that fortune such mishap should sende:

But sithe it is to late for me to crie,

I wishe that others may take hede herebye.

I might full well by wisdome shund this snare,

Tis sayde a wiseman all mishap withstandes.

For though by starres we borne to mischieues are:

Yet prudence bayles vs quite, from carefull bandes,

Eche man (they say) his fate hath in his handes,

And what he makes, or marres to lese, or saue

Of good, or euill, is euen selfe do selfe haue.

As here thou seest by me, that led my dayes

In vicious sorte, for greedy wolues a praye:

Warne others wysely, than to guide their wayes

By mine example, wel eschue they may,

Such vices as may worke their own decay:

Which if they do, full well is spent the time

To warne, to wryte, and eke to reade this rime.

THE AUTHOUR.

When this was said, no more was Madan seene,

(If it were he) but sure I half suspecte

It was some other else, so seru’de had bene,

For that all stories do not so detecte

His death, or else I did perhaps neglecte

His tale, bicause that diuers stories brought,

Such fancies of his death into my thought.

Therefore although it be not as some write

Here pende by me, and yet as others haue:

Let it not greeue thee reade that I recite,

And take what counsaile of good life he gaue:

I trust I may (that dreame) some pardon craue,

For if the reste, no dreames but stories pen:

Can I for that they wryte be blamed then?

No sure, I thinke the readers will not giue

Such captious dome, as Momus erste did vse,

Though Zoilus impes as yet do carping liue:

And all good willing writers much misuse.

Occasion biddes me some such beastes accuse,

Yet for their bawling hurtes me not I nill:

But with my purpose, on procede I will.

Next after that, came one in princely raye

A worthy wight but yonge, yet felt the fall:

It seemde he had bene at some warlike fraye,

His breste was woundid wide and bloudy all:

And as to mynde he musde his factes to call,

Depe sighes he fet, made all his limmes to shake:

At length these wordes, or like to me he spake.

[344] Madan had reigned forty years. Fabian says there is “lytell or no

memory made (of him) by any wryters.” As a strict conservator of laws

and for “great sapience,” he is briefly eulogised by Harding.

[345] We. ed. 1575.

[346] We neuer could our great, ib.

[347] We. ib.

[348] Our. ib.

[349] We. ib.

[350] Our. ib.

[351] We. ib.

[352] But O we thinke. ib.

[353] We. ib.

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

[355] We. ed. 1575.

[356] We. ib.

[357] We. ed. 1575.

[358] We. ib.

[359] And by me. ib.

[360] We. ib.

[361] Manlius, ib.

[362]

Who thinkes an other of his right beguyle,

Himselfe is soonest cleane bereaude of all. ib.

[363] My elder brother, ib. The authority for making this variation was

probably Harding, to whose work Higgins may refer as “an old chronicle

in a kind of English verse.” (See p. 7.) Harding says, “the yonger

Memprise slewe his brother Maulyne, elder of age.” The other writers

seem uniform in describing Mempricius as the elder.

[364] Did euer square, ib.

[365] Lou’d me well. ed. 1575.

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

[367] I me bore. ib.

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

[369] Fauoure. ib.

[370] Our. ib.

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

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

See here, th’ occasion of my haplesse happe,

See here his chaunce that might haue liu’de ful wel:

So baited swete is euery deadly trappe;

In brauiste bowres doth deepest daunger dwell.

I thought mine elder from his right t’expell,

Though he both age and custome forth did bring

For title right: I sayd, I would be King.

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

edition.

Wherefore as eache did watch conuenient time,

For to commit this haynous bloudy facte;

My selfe was taken not accusde of crime,

As if I had offendid any acte,

But he as one that witte and reason lackte,

Sayde traytour vile thou art to me vntrue;

And therwithall his bloudy blade he drewe.

Not like a king but like a cut throte fell;

Not like a brother, like a butcher brute;

Though twere no worse then I deserued well,

He gaue no time to reason or dispute:

To late it was to make for life my suite,

“Take traytoure here (quoth he) thy whole deserte,”

And therwithall he thrust me to the harte.

[374] Chosen. N.

[375] “Lastly by medyacions of frends a day of communycacion in louynge

maner attwene these ii bretherne was appoynted, at which day of

assemble Mempricius by treason slewe his brother Manlius.” _Fabyan._

[376] Brutishe.

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

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

[379]

Vsurping wrong incurres the curse of heauen,

And blood cries out for vengeance at his hand,

Who still in care of humane good is giuen. N.

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

[381] I think she. ib.

[382] THE AUTHOURE.

When Manlius had thus endid quite his tale,

He vanishte out of sight as did the reste;

And I perceiued straight a persone pale,

Whose throte was torne and blodied all his breste:

“Shall I” (quoth he) “for audience make requeste,

No sure it nedes not, straunge it semes to thee,

What he that beares this rentid corps should bee.

“Wherefore I deeme thou canst not chuse but bide,

And here my tale as others erste before;

Sith by so straunge a meanes thou seest I dyde,

With rentid throte and breste, thou musist more;

Marke well (quoth he) my ratling voyce therefore:”

And therwithall this tale he gan to tell,

Which I recite, though nothing nere so well. ed. 1575.

[383] In the first edition always called Manlius.

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

[385] For empire as I did. N.

[386] Must not. ed. 1575.

[387] His impious hands. N.

[388] Is. ed. 1575.

[389] Lookist for to haue. ib.

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

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

[392] Eldest. ib.

[393] I deemde was nought vnlawfull. ib.

[394] For. ib.

[395] I was deuoid of doubt. N.

[396] After attaining the crown he “became so lyther a man, that he

destroyed within a whyle all the men of his londe.” _Chr. of St.

Albans._

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

[398] Lothsome. ed. 1575.

[399] I will declare whence. ib.

[400] Alas I fell. ib.

[401] Might any ill exceed. ib.

[402] Heedes. ed. 1575.

[403] Fainted. ib.

[404] Tender, ed. 1575.

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

[406] THE AUTHOUR.

On this me thought he vanisht quite away,

And I was left with Morpheus all alone:

Whom I desirde these gryzely ghostes to stay,

Till I had space to heare them one by one.

And euen with that was Somnus seruaunt gone,

Whereby I slept and toke mine ease that night,

And in the morning rose their tale to wrighte.

Nowe (Reader) if you thinke I miste my marke,

In any thing whilere but stories tolde:

You must consider that a simple clarke,

Hath not such skill theffect of things t’vnfolde,

But may with ease of wiser be controlde:

Eke who so writes as much the like as this,

May hap be deemde likewyse as much to misse.

Wherefore if these may not content your minde

As eche man cannot fauour all mens vaines:

I pray you yet let me this frendship finde,

Giue your good will, I craue nought els for paines.

Which if you grutch me, as to great a gaines:

Then is my loue to you, and labour lost,

And you may learne take heede, with greater cost.

But now me thinkes I heare the carpers tell,

Saith one, the writer wanted wordes to fill:

The next reprou’d the verse not couched well:

The third declares, where lackte a point of skill:

Some others say they like the meeter ill:

But what of this? shall these dismay mee quite?

No sure, I will not cease for such to write.

For with more ease, in other workes they finde

A fault, then take vpon them selues to pen

So much, and eke content eche readers minde:

How should my verse craue all their likings then?

Sith sondry are the sects of diuers men,

I must endeuour only those to please:

Which like that comes, so it be for their ease.

The rest I recke as they blame worthy bee,

For if the words I wrote for good intent:

Take other sence then they receiu’de of mee,

Be turnde to worse, torne, reached, rackt, or rent

Or hackt and hewde, not constret as I ment:

The blame is theirs, which with my workes so mell:

Lesse faulty he, that wisht his country well.

If some be pleasde and easde, I lease no toyle,

At carpers gyrdle hanges not all the keyes:

What price gaines he, that giues him fall or foyle,

Which neuer wan by wrastling any prayse,

I haue not spent in poetrye my dayes,

Some other workes in proase I printed haue:

And more I write for which I leysure saue.

And for mine age not thirty yeares hath past,

No style so rype can yonger yeares attaine.

For of them all, but only ten the last,

To learne the tongues, and write I toke the paine,

If I thereby receiued any gaine,

By Frenche or Latine chiefely which I chose,

These fiue yeares past by writing I disclose.

Of which, the first two yeares I Grammer taught:

The other twaine, I Hulœts worke enlargde:

The last translated Aldus phrases fraught

With eloquence, and toke of Terence charge

At Printers hande, to adde the flowers at large

Which wanted there, in Vdalles worke before!

And wrote this booke with other diuers more.

Then pardon whats amisse, a while giue eare,

So shall you heare the rest that I recite,

Describing next what Princes did appeare:

When I had ended these are past to wrighte.

In slomber as I chaunst to lye one night,

Was Somnus prest, whom I desyrde to sende

His Morpheus ayde, these Tragedies to ende.

Wherewith he graunted my request and calde

For Morpheus straight: which knew wherto he came

I will (quoth he) the rest, whom Fortune thralde

Of Britaynes shewe: thy selfe to heare them frame.

And therewithall he set forth one like Fame.

In fethers all with winges so finely dight,

As twere a birde, in humaine shape of flight.

Yet twas not Fame that femme of painted plume,

He rather seemed Icarus deceau’de,

With winges to flye nighe Phœbus did presume.

At length in deede I plainly well perceau’de,

It was some king of vitall breath bereaude,

From flight he fell presuming farre to hye:

Giue eare take heede and learne not so to flye.

ed. 1575.

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

_Polychronicon._

[408] Bladud is represented as a prince eager in the pursuit of

learning, and of unusual mental acquirements. Having travelled to

Athens he had sufficient address to obtain a visit to his native land

of four of the most eminent scholars, or philosophers; for whom he

founded an University at Stamford with many liberal endowments, and

which flourished until the time of St. Augustine, who got the same

suppressed on a presumption of heresy among the scholars, He also

reputedly discovered the medicinal virtues of the hot-baths at Bath,

a circumstance alone sufficient in that remote age to add a fabulous

portion in the emblazonment of his character, and a belief, as the

Chronicle of St. Albans hath it, that “thrugh his craft of nygromancy

he made a meruaylous hote bathe, as the geste telleth.” This same

“geste” seems the foundation of the tale in all the Chronicles, which,

though often repeated, was early disbelieved. It is best descanted on

by the enlightened Treuisa in the Polychronicon. “Bladud, Leyles sone,

a nygromancer was the IX kyng of Brytons, he buylded Bathe and called

it Caerbadum. Englysshmen called it after Athamannes cyte, but atte

last men called it Bathonia that is Bathe.--W[illelmus Malmel.] de

pontificum. li. ii. In this cyte welleth vp and spryngeth hote bathes

and men wene that Julius Cezar made there suche bathes.--R[anulphus

of Chestre]. But Ganfr. Monemutensis in his Brytons book sayth that

Bladud made thylkes Bathes: by cause that William [of Malm.] had not

seen that brytons book, wrote so, by telling of other men, or by his

owne ghessing; as he wrote other thynges, not best aduisedly. Therfore

it semeth more sothly that Bladud made not the hote bathes, ne Julius

Cezar dyde suche a deede, though Bladud buylded and made the cyte. But

it acordeth better to kendly reason that the water renneth in the erthe

by veynes of brymstone and sulphure and so is kendely made hote in that

cours and spryngeth vp in dyuerse places of the cyte. And so there

ben hote bathes that washeth of tetres, soores and skabbes.--Treuisa.

Though men myght by crafte make hoote bathes for to dure longe ynough

this acordeth well to reason and phylosophye and treateth of hoote

welles and bathes that ben in dyuerse londes, though the water of this

bathe be more troubly, and heuyer of sauour and of smelle than other

hote bathes ben that I haue seen at Akon in Almayne and at Egges in

Sauoye, whiche ben as fayre and clere as ony colde welle streme. I haue

ben bathed therin and assayed them.”

Higgins, in his account of the learning of Bladud, has closely copied

Bale, whose character was then generally known through the medium of

Grafton’s chronicle. Perhaps to form the measure on a general model

this life was re-written, being first composed in quatrains. It stands

thus in the first edition.

_Bladud recyteth haw he practyzing by curious artes to flye, fell and

brake his necke. The yeare before Christe 844._

Shall I rehearse, likewyse my name?

And eke a place amongst them fill,

Which at their endes to mischiefe came?

Sith Morpheus bids me so, I will.

And that because I see thee minde,

To write my storie fate and fall,

Such curious heads it reade and finde:

May flee to flye, and shunne my thrall.

If daunger teach them liue take heede:

If leesers harme, make lookers wyse:

If warines do safetie breede,

Or wracke make saylers shelues dispise

Then may my hurt giue sample sure:

My losse of life may lokers learne:

My warning may beware procure,

To such as daunger scarce discerne.

I am that Bladud Britaine king.

Rudhudebras his eldest sonne,

Did learning first to England bring:

And other wonders more were done.

Now giue me eare, and after wryte:

Marke well my life, example take:

Eschue the euill that I recite,

And of my death a myrour make.

In youth I gaue my minde to lore,

For I in learning tooke repaste:

No earthly pleasure likte me more,

I went to Athens at the last.

A towne in Greece, whose fame went foorth

Through all the world hir name was spred:

I counted knowledge so much woorth,

Hir only loue to Greece me led.

There first of all the artes of seuen,

Wherein before I had small skill:

I Grammer gate declares the steuen,

By rule to speake, and wryte at will.

Next after that in Rhetorike fine,

Which teacheth how he talke to fyle:

I gate some knowledge in short time,

And coulde perswade within a whyle.

I thirdly learned Logicke well,

An arte that teacheth to dispute:

To aunswere wisely or refell,

Distinguishe, proue, disproue, confute.

Then after that, of number, I

The skilfull arte likewyse attainde:

Wherin of Mathematickes lie,

Full many pointes I after gainde.

And Musicke milde I lernde, that telles

Tune, tyme, and measure of the song:

A science swete the reste excelles,

For melody hir notes among.

But sixtly I the dame of artes,

Geometrie of great engine

Employde, with all hir skilfull partes,

Therby some greater giftes to winne.

So laste I lernde Astronomie,

A lofty arte that paste them all:

To knowe by motions of the skye,

And fixed starres, what chaunce might fall.

This pleasaunt arte allured me,

To many fonde inuentions then:

For iudgements of Astrologie,

Delites the mindes of wisest men.

So doth the arte Phisiognomie,

Dependes on iudgment of the face:

And that of Metoposcopie,

Which of the forehead telles the grace.

And Chiromancie by the hande,

Coniecures of the inward minde:

Eke Geomancie by the lande,

Doth diuers many farlies finde.

Augurium eke was vsde of olde

By byrdes of future things presagde:

And many thinges therby they tolde,

Were skilfull, learned, wyse and agde.

But Magicke, for it seemid sweete,

And full of wonders made me muse:

For many feates I thought it meete,

And pleasaunt for a Prince to vse.

Three kindes there are for nature’s skill,

The first they Naturall do name:

In which by herbes and stones they will,

Worke wonders thinges, are worthy fame.

The next is Mathematicall,

Where Magike workes by nature so:

That brasen heads make speake it shall,

Of woode birdes, bodies flye, and go.

The thirde Veneficall by right,

Is named for by it they make:

The shapes of bodies chaunge in sight,

And other formes on them to take.

What nede I tell what Theurgie is,

Or Necromancie you despise:

A diuelishe arte, the feendes by this

Seeme calde, and coniurde to arise.

Of these too much I learned then,

By those such secrete artes profest:

For of the wise and skilfull men,

Whome Fame had praisde I gate the best.

They promist for to teach me so,

The secretes of dame nature’s skill:

That I nede neuer taste of woe,

But alwayes might forsee it still.

Wherfore enflamed with their loue,

I brought away the best I could:

From Greece to Britayne lande to proue,

What feates for me deuise they would.

Of which were foure Philosophers,

For passing skill excelde the rest:

Phisitions and Astronomers,

In Athens all they were the best.

My father harde of my retourne,

Of my successe in learning there:

And how the Grecians did adourne,

My wittes with artes that worthy were.

He herde likewyse what store I brought,

Of learned Greekes from Atticke soyle:

And of my laboure learning sought,

With study, trauayle, payne and toyle.

I likewyse heard he buylded here,

Three townes while absent thence was I:

By South he foundid Winchester,

By East he built Cantorbury.

By West full highe he built the last,

On hill from waters deepe belowe:

Calde Shaftesbury on rockes full fast,

It standes and giue to Seas a showe.

These causde we both might well reioyce

He for because I gate such fame:

And I, for that by all mennes voyce,

His factes deseru’de immortall name.

What nedes much talke, the peres and all

The commons eke with one assent:

Extold my name especiall,

Which had my youth in learning spent.