ΣΤΡΑΤΙΩΤΙΚΟΝ. OR A Discourse of Militarie Discipline. Shewing the necessitie therof according to these perillous TIMES.

VEGET. li. 3.
Paucos viros fortes Natura procreat;
Multos bona institutione facit industria.

Printed. 1628.

To the Most worthy and experienced Captaine, the Lieutenant and all the well Disciplined companie, Trained vp in the Militarie yard at Norwich.

Noble Captaine, Gentlemen and friends.

ACcept yee this smal piece, in lieu of the great loue, which I haue alway borne to your Laudable exercise; which (if I might haue my wish) should not onely out line Enuie, but many ages also, yea rather end with time then in it. As for the fortune of this Treatise; I ra­ther [Page] aspicate it from your gentle accep­tance, then any worth of itselfe. Yet I would haue the world know, that it comes from him, that dares as well vin­di [...]ate it from the finister constructions, of maleuolous Critickes, as gratefully acknowledge the gracious censure of the curteous Reader. Reade iudicious­ly, iudge fauourably, and

I am euer yours, vnfainedly. Ra. Kneuet.

To all to whom I write,

Gentlemen,

ALthough I haue little, or nothing at all beene beholding to Fortune, or to the times, or to the great men of these times, (whose promises though seeming very fresh and forward, require more then one yeare to bring forth any fruites of performance) yet I would not haue you thinke, that any necessitous regard, hath made my Muse so superstitious, to adore so many rising Suns. No, be yee assured, that it was a zealous consideration of these perillous times, quick­ned by some other more particular & slight respects that moued me to this taske; which I deeme no lesse warrantable by example then reason: for if you please to cast a long looke backe to the Troiane warre, you shall find Calchas exciting the disheart­ned Greekes to prosecute the warre. Looke [Page] an age more backward, and there you may see Orpheus encouraging the A [...]gonautes to the Colchian expedition. As for those detracting Dogs, such as (I am sure) this poore pamphlet shall meete with all, I would aduise them to stand off, and not to bee too hastie to awake a sleeping Lyon, least their eares or their tailes pay for their vnconside­rate rashnesse.

But to you (kind Gentlemen) quorum ex meliore luto finxit precordia Titan) to whom, I hope this simple present shall not be vnwelcome, I shall thinke my selfe euer bound in all honest loue and seruice. But if there be any that to please their fancies, wil misconstrue my good meaning, vilysy my la­bours, and reiect my obsequiousnesse, it skils not much; for I can as well beare the losse of a Booke as they the want of an vnderstan­ding.

R A. KNEVET.

To his friend the Author.

BEcause th'are few that doe things worthy praise,
Free truth is counted flatterie now a daies:
And though it be our common Poets shame,
Truth cries thy Muse not guiltie of that blame.
Thou Orpheus-like our Heroes dost incite
To warlike gests, and Mirmidons to fight.
Such successe wish I, that this Booke may be
As free from Enuie, as from flatterie.
The most indulgent thought my Pen drops forth
I dare not thinke can adde vnto the worth
Of this rare piece; which shall (where it doth come)
Strike Enuie blind, and base detractors dumbe.
And so I wish all cankerd spight may die,
Dispis'd, condem'd by noble industrie.
And though th'ast those which this taske better fit
From me much loue expect, from them much wit.
RO. WOTTON.

To any to whom I write.

BLame not my Muse, thou that dost find thy name
Not Marshal'd here, as thou wouldst haue the same:
No blemish tu to thy repute: for (know it)
I act no Herald here (Sir) but a Poet.

To the same.

(KInd Gentlemen) Souldiers, or Clarkes, or both
My Muse as gentle greetes you well (in troth)
And tels you shee can't wooe yee at your tables
By venting fripperies of Iests, or fables
Not worth the Phrygian Princes eares; nor raise
A bare name to her selfe, by vulgar praise.
No, no: shee ioyes in action: and know that
By the protection of a Beuer Hat,
Or silken out-side, shee disdaines to force
Your presence, but had rather take a course
To shew her selfe to you in re [...]all pow'rs
Then bid her welcome, and she's euer yours.
R. K.

To Captaine HENRY SHELTON.

IF many yeeres in honours seruice spent;
If vertues s [...]ting with a braue descent,
Can giue true lustre to a Name; then thine
May seeme least to require a Verse of mine.
To giue thy worth iust height: yet Time displayes
Many sine heads, that ost haue earnd the bayes
In these and meaner taskes: for fame must know
Shee cannot pay those glories, shee doth owe
To great and good deserts, except some aides
Be sent her from the nine Castalian maides.
Had Homer (whom seuen Cities stroue to owne)
Not beene; then who had great Achilles knowne,
Or Hector in these times. Then let none blame
My Muse, although shee beares a part with fame
In thy due prayse; whether shee doth commend
Thy truest valour, that did alway tend
Thy noblest ends, or praise those honest Arts
With which thou didst attract the Souldiers Harts.
Nor a [...]t thou lesse expert to liue belou'd
In Peace, then Warre: to loue thee all are mou'd
By thy humanitie, and pietie.
Then let detraction foule and calumnie
Be alway Dumbe: and let the World know euer,
Thou maist be enuy'd much, but flattered neuer.

To Mr. THOMAS KNEVET of Ashwell Thorpe.

THou, that dost know thy Starres, canst calculate
Thy geniture, and see to what end fate
Did lend thee to the earth; auspicious be
Thy fauours, like thy Starres to mine and me:
Thou know thy Starres (I say) for good men know
Wherefore th'are borne, and what to God they owe,
And how farre th'are engag'd to Prince, or state:
For Grace, and Wisedome be the Starres and fate
That gouerne them: these like those twinne fires bright
Do prosper all those that Sayle by their light:
These Steere men safely to the Hauen of blisse,
In spite of strongest contrarieties.
These be thy Starres, that set th'aboue thy blood,
True patterne and true patrone of whats good:
Thou art the Glasse in which the World may see,
What once our Gentrie was, and still should bee.
A louer of thy Countrie, and of arts
Art thou; disdaining to make thy good parts
Ambitions Ladder, but had rather stay,
Till time shall see thy merit rise like day
And strike a Rosie blush in Honours face;
'Cause shee had mist so long so fit a place
For her best fauours, which they shall admit
To great Imployments, answering thy wit,
And heroique vertue; such great happinesse
I wish to thee, that dost deserue no lesse.

To Sir ROGER TOWNSEND.

I Sent my Muse vnto the house of fame,
Of her to enquire out some Honourd name
[Page]Worthy of my Verse, and shee commends to mee
A Townsend, then I quickly thought of thee;
Then whom, a wiser he [...]d, Sold doth not see;
Thy actions with such iudgement seasond bee.
Thou from thy fortunes height dainst to looke on
Lowly Parn [...]ss [...]s, and Po [...]e Helicon;
On humble Helicon, whose withered bayes,
Witnesse the Frostie dulnesse of these dayes.
When merit, statue, because they scorne to bee
Base fortunes slaues, and fooles are raisd (we see)
And Knaues, for now great men make greatest vse
Of these to hide, or perpetrate abuse.
We Arts vnhappie seruants must be glad
To fall before an Asse, in Scarlet clad,
And or like Egypts foolish Priests adore
Monsters, in shapes of men, o'r still be poore.
We sorted are with the Plebeian rout,
And liue as men borne onely to weare out
Serges, eat off [...]lls, or to fetch our drinke
From the Spring head, or consume Lampes and inke;
When silly Silke-wormes strout in sundry shapes
Like Proteus, when Sycophants and Apes
Baboones, Bussones and sprucer trencher Squires,
Be neatly drest in Honors richest tires.
But you Sir Roger (on whose honord name,
More noble Vertues are scor'd vp by fame,
Then Time hath lent you yeares) an Artist are
And Artist loue; then double be your share
In truest happinesse, and let your night
Day, morne, and euen, on you shine euer bright,
And from your geniall bed let fruites appeare,
Worthy your worthy selfe, and your Bel-vere.

To Sir CHARLES LE-GROSSE.

The Ring of Pyrrhus shewd the Muses nine
And Phoebus portraited by sculpture fine:
But thou faire Knight-hoods fairer ornament
Conspicuously dost to our eyes present
Phoebus, the Muses nine, the Graces three,
Mercurie, and Mars, yea more Gods then bee
In Homers Iliads; or at least much greater:
For thy mind's a Pantheon, or a Theater,
Wherein all vertues, and all graces stand,
In decent order link'd, with hand in hand.
The 'mongst the chiefest of the Arts few friends
I list: and so adore thy noble ends,
That if my Quill to vertue can life giue,
Thy honourd fame shall Nestors age out liue.

To Sir IOHN HARE.

VVAnt in a plentie is too rise with vs;
So in the streame chin-deepe stands Tantalus
Wooing the coye Apples: and tis oft found
That wit is scarce, where riches doe abound.
For golden Asses are no dainties here,
They may be dayly seene, euen euerie where.
But you (Sir Iohn) whose youth with store is crown'd,
Are nothing lesse to Art, and Nature bound
Then Fortune, yea such is your worth that now,
A Knight-hood becomes few so well as you.

To Sir WILLIAM YELVERTON of Ruffham.

TIs meete Virgils Quill should write of thee,
Where such a concurrence of Gaces bee;
That were all Gentrie out of frame, we might
By thee take patterne, how to set it right.
Thy won habrisker Muse then mine requires;
Then let them sing while mine alone admires.

To Sir MILES HOBART Knights of the Bathe.

NEuer dranke I of Pegasus his well,
Nor in Parnassus dream't (that I can tell)
Though I write Verse, for I would haue men know it,
The Times are good or ill, make me a Poet.
To praise Vlisses wise, as much may care is,
As to condemne Thersites, or vaine Paris.
And as sweete Orpheus to his Harpe did set
High tun'd Ditties, great courages to whet;
So euer bee't my taske, to moue great spirits,
And honourable soules, to braue demerits.
Mongst whom (Sir Miles) me thinkes I see you rise
Like Phosphorus, grac'd with such qualities,
That they, as well as your high orders rites,
May iustly ranke you with the best of Knights.

To Sir IOHN HENNINGHAM.

TO praise your lonliu'd, or long honord name,
A wrong were to your vertues (Hemmingham)
Let those which can affoord nought else that's good,
Extoll the borrow'd honors of their blood.
Your Gentrie you may iustly call your owne.
Although you bought it not, nor from furd-gowne,
It tooke; nor in Tobacco papers wrapt;
It brought from Spaine; nor with a white Coyse capt
It chatting found in that great guiltie hall,
Where Cerberus for Golden soppes doth baule.
But from your honord vertues the same flowes,
And this true Gentrie is: the rest are showes.

To Sir HEYMAN LE-STRANGE.

AS doth the purple headed rose prickt in
The tender bosome, of the Paphian Queene,
All beauties of the Garden farre out shine:
So doe those worthy parts, and Arts of thine,
Set thee aboue most (diuine Le-Strange)
That know'st as well to walke the Muses range,
As thine owne groues: and canst without a thred,
Find what in learnings Laberynth is hid.
The age discouers few such men aliue,
That rich, can also teach their minds to thriue.

To Sir THOMAS SOVTHWELL.

TAblets of Gold, with richest Rubies set
Shine nor so bright, as doth the Cabinet
Where in your soule is look't; a Palace sit
For such a noble courage, and a wit.
Euer maist thou giue Adders audience
Vnto tame flatterie: nor let sence
With sugred baytes delude thy intellect:
But euer let some noble end direct
Thy good disignes: yea let them alwayes bee
Both correspondent to thy stemme, and thee.

To Sir THOMAS WOODHOVSE.

YOu are the man, that well descerne what betters
An high fortune, and can preferre good letters
Before those painted plumes, which Crowne the crest
Of swelling honor: such great interest
In your most worthy parts possesseth art,
That your high wisedome seemes to haue got the start
Of your great fortunes, though they well befit
Both your thrice worthy Pedigree, and wit.

To Sir THOMAS RICHARDSON.

HEe, and no iudge, that neuer had the skill
With words, one better then himselfe to kill:
Nor ere did lay a plot for to oppresse
[Page]The new made widdow, and the fatherlesse:
Nor euer did Church-lands o [...] Commons wring
From God; both dead and liuing [...]:
Certes is cleere from many crying crimes;
Yet such, as be, made customes by the times.
But you Sir Thomas 'midst your fortunes must
Regard, that you, and what is yours are dust
That in this world, you haue but a short lease,
And may be turn'd out when your Land-lord please.
Know eke that what is yours, is yours to giue
And liue so well, that you may die to liue.

To Sir ROBERT GAVDY.

FIrst, if I might safely craue this worlds pelfe;
To be belou'd next would I wish my selfe,
And rather then the first alone I'de chuse,
The second I would take and that refuse.
But you Sir Robert haue fates bl [...]ssing got,
Y'are wealthy, and belou'd, yea and what not
Nor euer were the Starres more iust (I swear't)
With such great goods, to trust such good desert.

To Sir DRV DAVRY.

AS did loue wounded Echo dote vpon
The beautifull Narcissus, that lou'd none;
So doth my Muse affect your worthy parts
Applauded euery where, by tongues and hearts.
And though I in your praise come short of many
Yet may my loue to you ranke me with any.

To Sir IOHN HOBART.

SInce are no thriuing arts: but whats well gain'd,
May with much comfort, and long be retain'd,
But Iustice oft cryes the oppressour quit,
By sending his yong Heyre too scant a wit
For his large meanes; that soone all goes to pot:
For fooles doe ill keepe, what knaues haue ill got.
But you (Sir Iohn) are free'd from such blacke brands,
Both by the cleannesse of your fathers hands.
And your owne ripenesse, who can vse your fortune,
Both spend, and spare, as time and cause importune:
Sole master of your selfe, and pelfe, you are,
Which is a freedome among great men rare.

To Sir ROBERT BELL.

TO ring out thy great frame, if I had skill,
The E'cho thereof should our Iland fill.
So consonant's thy vertue to thy wit,
And so thy outward feature graceth it,
That my Muse may one sillable adde well
Vnto thy Surname, and call thee Le-bell.

To Sir WILLIAM DE-GRAY.

I Take thy name on Fames bare word (Sir Knight)
I know thee not; yet sweare I thinke th'art right
Because thou art belou'd; then euer bee
[Page]My Muse obsequious to thy worth, and thee.
He that good store of sincere loue hath wonne.
Wisely hath playd his game, and fairely runne.

To Mr. FRAMMINGHAM GAVDY.

GA [...]dy such store of worth doth Crowne thy name,
That it like to columne st [...]nds which fame
To lasting memorie, and honour builds,
Whereon thy vertues hang like Pensile shields,
As Trophyes of those glorious Victories,
Wonne from the lesser Worlds great enemies
Then let thy fame with time vie dayes and yeares,
Let death be ioy to thee; to others teares.

To Mr. SHEPHERD of Kyrby.

OLd Melibee) that hast the hearts of all,
Because thy loue is likewise generall:
Not Time alone, but thy deare Countries cares
Which far exceed thy yeares, haue chang'd thy haires
To white: then let thy Siluer age thee fold
In more contents, then did thy age of gold.

To Mr. WEBBE of Breckles.

THat curious Webbe which proud Arach [...]e spunne;
Or that which chast Penelope begunne,
[Page]Match not this piece whose worth exceedes all choice,
That Pallas to owne it may well reioyce
Arachnes silken webbe descipherd plaine
Io [...]es scapes, and what might thee Olympists staine
But (worthy Webbe) all beaut'ous graces bee
Both morrall, and Diuine be discribed in thee.

To Mr. ANTHONY HOBART of Hales.

VVHen the Th [...]ssalian witches vttered
Their charmes to Luna, she wo [...]t to looke red:
So doe true vertues blush to heare their praise,
While the praisd Peacocke his gay plumes displayes.
But you m [...]y safely heare while safely I
Commend your wisedome, or your honestie:
For he that attributes to merits true
Deserued praise, payes vertue but her due.

To Mr. PHILIP WOODHOVSE.

ME thought I stood that sacred fountaine night,
Where high conceites in blessed draughts are lent
Whose cristall brest seem'd sudainly to rent
And when a Nimph of rarest maiestie.
Whose hayre seem'd Gold, and skinne cleare I [...],
Vpon her browes an Arch of bayes was bent,
Her presence taught euen Trees to complement.
For all the Laurells bow'd, and modestie,
With a low voice, seem'd, to giue suffrage free,
To make her Empresse of faire Helicon.
[Page]With that I heard a grone, which seem'd to be
Sent from the vrnes, of Poets dead and gone,
Whose Ghostes enuy'd this peerelesse Ladies grace.
That should them all in loftie straines surpasse,
Mistake me not (I thinke) your Muse was shee,
That like this Syluane Nymphe appear'd to me.

To Mr. WILLIM POSTON of Paston.

'YOng hopefull sprigge) that art borne to inherit
Abundant wealth (if thou dost not preferre it
Before the freedome) know that thy best vse
Of thine; is to be liberall; not profuse.
Know like wise that content is your best store;
And that to couet more, is to be poore.
For Couetise as well wants her owne,
As what is not: seeke rather to be knowne
By the great virtues, then thy great estate;
Nor let thy tempting heapes of drosse elate
Thy mind aboue thy selfe; but still remember
In May, and June, what followes in December.
Marke how thy youth, thy pleasures, and thy wealth,
Yea life and all doe flits away by stealth.
Know that it is world is but a Tombe of clay,
To keepe thy body till the latter day:
Thinke euer that th'art neare thy day of doome,
And be prepard to waite on the Bridegroome.
Thus maist thou be a thrice most happie one
In life, in death, and resurrection.

To Mr PETTIE of Morley.

SOme of thy wealth talke, but I praise thy wit,
And many worthy vertues gracing it.
But thy great loue to Arts, so make me thine,
That my true heart shall euer be the shrine
Of thy good name, which in the Booke of same
I'le register to dull obliuions shame.
And if my penne can adde ought to thy worth,
In spite of Enuies throate, it shall come forth:
Till then; accept this my great loues small treasure;
And Hercules his height by his foote measure.

To Mr. IOHN HOLLAND.

THou that art made of better temperd clay,
Then Titan ere made any; who dost pay
Thy youth to time, with greater interest
Of vertue, then of yeares, and promisest.
More goods, then are of faire Pandora fain'd;
And hopes more beaut'ous then her boxe contain'd.
Bee thou like Phoebus, or his bayes, and find
The blind God, and blind Goddesse euer kind.
Be such that I to take may euer long,
So faire a Theme as Holland for my Song.

To Mr. BARTHOLOMEW COTTON.

ANd here too growes a Tree, that may in time
Beare golden Apples, in a colder clime
[Page]Then is Hesperia in; for so presage
Thy blossoms ( [...]ottom) and thy spring of age.
Then let kind fortune giue thy worth full sayles,
Till Honour greete thee with as many hayles,
As ere Sitanus had: and let thy name
Become th'example of well gotten fame.

To Mr. THOMAS WARDE of Bixley.

IF my deuout Muse could euer bring
Ought worth acceptance, or an offering
Vnto thy Vertue, iustly I might deeme
My selfe thrice happie in so good a theme.
Yet let thy worth vouchlafe to take these lines,
As the pledges of my great Loue, and signes
Of true affection, wanting alone
Art to discouer that impression,
Which the conceit of thy most high desert
Hath Charracterd so deepely in my heart.
And though my penne a pencill be scarce fit
To Paint out to the life thy merrit; yet
My heart shall euer be engag'd to thee;
Because I thinke thou lou'st the Arts and mee.

To Mr. THOMAS LAYER of Booton.

SHould I forget your name, you well might thinke
'Twas neither lacke of paper, nor of inke,
Not time, but want of good discretion,
That caus'd the fault: nor i'st your place alone;
[Page]Not the command of your Horse troupe (I meane)
But that more great command, where with you reyne
Hot merrald passions, which doth inuite
My Muse these few lines for your sake to write.
Your want of vice, and your attractiue parts,
That force no feares, but bring you loues and hearts
Make me a debtor to your worth: then know you
I pay you this, as part of what I owe you.

To Mr. IAMES CALTHORP.

VVHat May hath vow'd, if August truely payes
What tongue or pen (Cal [...]horp) can reach thy
Then let no harmeful blasts those blossomes kill, (prayse
Let no affection ere mis-lead thy will.
Be wise, and good, let death long stand aloose:
And let thy mind be chance, and danger proofe.

To Mr. WILLIAM BLADWELL.

IOy be to thee, of thy new place (say I)
That seem'st to affect noble caualrie,
A glorie which Fraunce vaunts of, to our shame,
We are become so carelesse of our fame.
Some tripping Hackney, we had rather backe
Or-dastard race-horse, or some snasled Iacke,
Then mount the praunsing Courser, by whose pride
The Riders courage might be multipli'de.
And yee our Knights haue yee forgot your name,
Or doe yee wilfully neglect your fame;
[Page]Yee by your Spurres seeme to be Cheualiers,
But by your Steedes y'are Northerne Borderers,
Or some Heath-scourers, fitter farre to flie
Then mannage combate' gainst an enemie.
O sleepe not still; least yee contend too late,
Your honours from the dust to vindicate.

To Mr. RAPH BLEVER-HASSIT

NOt onely thy affection did I prise
Showne to our Militarie exercise,
When here I wrote thy name (deseruing Hassit)
No, no: thy honestie, and vertue was it,
That wonne me to this taske; then here I giue
What next high heauen, may make the longest l iue.
I hope youl' kindly take't; for I dare say,
Such presents are not brought you euery day.

To Mr. CLEMENT HYRNE.

HOnest, and honord Hyrne; that dost enshrine
Such worth, as should Fortune her selfe resigne.
And hers, to thee; none truely might thee call
Her meere fauorite; or her, prodigall;
Euer be shee (I wish) thy vertues slaue,
And readyer farre to giue, then thou to craue.

To Mr. EDMVND KNEVET.

EXcept thy worthy brother, scarce I find
A Gentleman, more truely mine, in mind
Then thee; nor let opinion so ill see,
To thinke thy out-side makes me honour thee;
I meane thy ranke, or state; no let men know;
Nor my thoughts, nor thy merits flie so low:
For thou hast my affection nobly bought
At Vertues highest rate, and not for nought.

To Mr. AVSTINE HOLLE.

IF I could hate thee; or of my selfe so much;
To entertaine soule Enuy; thy wits such,
I like th'Illyrian Beldames on't should gaze,
Or like Mayes frosts vpon the budding maze.
But certes, neither I to enuie know,
Nor be thy rare endowments fix'd so low,
That Enuie can ecclipse them: then here see
What loue and admiration offers thee.

To Mr. EDWARD WOOTTON.

I Find thee such: so kind, so true to mee,
That I must owe both loue, and life to thee
Nor was't thy loue alone, but thy desert,
That made me in this place thy name insert,
For this I say; and speake but what I know;
[Page]Thy mind and body doe such rare gifts show,
As scarce are found else-where (which vsed well)
The times will hardly yeeld thy paralell.

To Mr. EDWARD DOILY.

TO season fresh acquaintance, these lines take
From him, that for his friends, and vertues sake
Dares rather doe, then speake: for talke he deemes
Is womanish, but action men beseemes.
If ought abides then in me, or my Muse,
Worth your command; tis ready for your vse.

To Mr. IOHN CAVSO.

THou that art farre more worthy of the bayes,
Daigne to assist my home-spunne vntun'd layes
With gracious censure; for vpon thy tong,
Depends the grace, and fortune of my song.
So sharpe a wit, and iudgement dwell in thee,
Refin'd by such rare knowledge, that I see
Apollo's trees may grow else-where, then on
Our greene Parnassus, or our Helicon.

A DISCOVRSE OF MILITARIE DISCIPLINE.

LOe my Thalia, that was whilome seene,
Frisking among the Nimphs, in Forrest greene,
To Satyres pipes; and that did sing (long since)
Her morals smooth, to Pan the Shepheards Prince:
Is now prest to a farre vnfitter taske;
And like Bellona, arm'd with steely caske;
Powres warlike accents forth, and numbers meete
For trumpets sterne, and stately buskin'd feete.
Then oh yee thrice three sisters that sit on
Parnassus greene, and flowrie Helicon;
Spinning your gentle flaxe in the coole shade;
Because the Arts are growne too poore a trade,
To find yee smockes withall: and that great Goddesse
(Pallas) who (wheresoeuer thy abode is)
Canst scarce discharge th'ey pences of thy lights,
With writing Poems in long Winter nights:
Be yee propicious to your gentle swaine;
One draught of pure Castalian iuyce him daigne;
And with an actiue surie touch his braine,
That he may set his notes in lostie straine
He that extols the thing,
Arbor Vitteria­sa [...]riumph [...].
which all men praise,
Shall hardly merit those immortall bayes,
[Page]That glorious wreath, that Crowne which is meete for
(Onely) a Poet,
Pi [...]nor [...] impe­rad [...]ri & d [...] Po­eti. Pet. arc [...].
and an Emperor.
What need we praise Apollos radiant light:
When dullest Hindes, can apprehend by sight
More lustre in his face; then we can Paint,
With best conceites; or numbers nere so quaint.
But so pernicious, are the minds of men:
So sinillen their wils: so fraught with reene;
That things, which alway doe deserue applause;
Are ost contemnd by some: and heare the cause.
In this worst age; each man extols that thing,
Which doth to him much gaine, and profit bring:
He onely is a friend vnto himselfe:
Deuoted onely, to his idle pelfe.
Religion, and the soucraigntie of Kings,
He deemes to be, but ceremonious things.
That loue which he vnto his neighbour owes;
He payes in complements, and sained showes,
And as for that respect, which doth pertaine
Vnto his Parents. he accounts it vaine:
And while he thriues, and hath enough to giue;
On parish almes will see his mother liue.
Friendship he deemes a foolish fond conceit;
If it brings in no profitable freight.
(Dall Camell) when he see'th the Azure heauen
Full fix'd with Starres, and the bright Planets seuen,
The Elements; all beasts, all foules, and fish,
Trees, plants, and herbes, with all that heart can wish,
Created for his vse; yet thinke that hee
Is borne, from all exteriour duties free.
The cōmmon-wealths deepe wounds, pierce not his skin:
He careth not who loose, so he may win.
[Page]Not any sad thought would he entertaine.
When Fame talk'd of so many worthies slaine,
By aduerse Mars, and Fortune (that coye wench)
Maligning English valour, and turn'd French;
That now with swelling vaunts, they dare report
Their glorie equal'd our at Agincort.
Nor will he bestow one auspicious thought
Vpon the Danes designes; nor cares he ought
Who winnes the day, who conquers, or who fals;
Be they our friends, or proud Imperials.
Thus; (by the deprau'd nature of Mans will)
That worth in others is maligned full;
Which in themselues they want; and onely deeme
That good, which doth in priuate profit them.
Thus things that merit all respect, and grace,
Are vnder valu'd, and accounted base.
All morall, and all martiall discipline,
They slight as vaine: yea, be the same deuine,
They'le censure it: foule shamelesse brats,
That would seeme Eagles, though as blind as ba [...]s.
But we (that are sent by Apollo bright,
To vindicate all vertue, from the spight
Of foule detraction, whose enuenom'd darts,
With equall rancour wound, both Armes, and Arts
(Alcides-like) whose monsters will expell;
Whose slandrous tongues (as with exorcists spell
Shall by our pow'rfull numbers be coniur'd;
In circles of their mouthes to rest immur'd.
But intermit (my Muse) thy hastie chace;
And giue those Harpies leaue, to breath a space
Another worke doth thy assistance aske:
Then (my Virago) take thee to thy taske:
[Page]And with a pirrhique straine grace euery line;
So shouldst thou sing of Martiall Discipline
Although we (men) be led by reasons lampe;
Yet ought we goe astray; because the dampe
Of grosse affections doth put out that light,
And from the right way makes vs wander quite:
That we, of silly Beasts may learne to tread
The pithes, which to true happinesse doe lead.
The painefull Bee doth reach vs industrie.
The Turtle to obserue pure chastitie.
The Pilmire warnes vs to be prouident.
The Nightingale shewes how we should repent.
The Robin-redbrest learnes vs charitie.
The Storke how to require a curtesie.
The Cocke shewes valour who had rather die,
Then yeeld to his insulting enemie.
By these; we (men) instructed are likewise
In Warlike feates, and Martiall policies.
The
Gr [...]ese in lo­ca calidiora pe­te [...]ics mae [...]e [...]ran, miliunt [...]an [...] for­ma [...] [...]ss [...]unt. Cic [...] Nat.
Cranes (by day) keepe order in their flight;
And alway one stands Sentinell at night.
When that the Indian
I [...]ncumon est an mallmag­ [...]nd [...]n [...] [...] lu [...] con [...]lu [...], cam [...]p [...]de p [...]g. [...] [...]
Rat doth vodertake,
Against the Aspe, his partie good to make;
His body he all ouer daubes with durt;
That his foes venome can doe him no hurt.
The
[...]e [...]hant [...] [...] est [...], ob [...]d aest [...]erre [...] te [...]a D [...]a [...]onio (que) ex­p [...]tur, &c. P [...]n.
Dragon farre to weake, to maintaine sight
Against the Elephant; kils him by sleight:
For in some Thicket, he in ambush lies:
And (ere he be aware) doth him surprise.
The
In v [...]n [...]re moll. t [...]nuis (que) c [...]t [...]s C [...]ocoull [...]: Idiose [...]t ter [...] ­t [...] merquer Dol­phins s [...] exit. t [...]s q [...]al [...]um [...]ain secunt spinu. Plin.
Dolphin, not of force, with his sharpe sinne
To pierce the Crocodiles hard scaly skinne,
Seemes to retreate, as wearie of the fight;
And diuing downe, doth counterfeit a flight:
[Page]Then from the deepes, remounting sudainely,
His foes soft belly wounds, and makes him dy.
The Horse, the Bull, and Bore know when and how
Both to assaile their foes, and shift a blow.
If these brute creatures (led alone by sence)
Can so expertly make their owne defence,
To saue that bloud, which we account so base
That oft we spill it, to enjoy the case;
Then we should be ten thousand times more wise,
To saue that life, which we so highly prise.
Nor is the losse of life the greatest ill,
Redounding from the want of warlike skill:
For honours,
Granicus Bitby­nia f [...]uu [...]us pag­na que inter P [...]rsas & Alex­andrum suit no­bila. Diod 1, 17
freedome, goods, oft goe to wracke
In each ill mannag'd state, where that doth lacke.
Great Alexander, in his growing pride,
Vpon the bankes of Granicus had di'de:
Or (captine taken) had attended on
His proud foes carre, through streetes of Babylon.
If his strong Phalanx, had not calm'd the pride,
Of Persian brau'rie, at her highest ride.
This strong Battalion stretch'd euen to the skies
His same; and to both Seas his victories.
So glorious Conquests haue beene oft obtain'd,
By numbers few, well disciplin'd, and train'd.
But mightie multitudes (where skill doth want)
Of good successe can very seldome vaunt:
For Victorie is coye, and will not bee
Forc'd, by rude multitudes; but rather shee
Vnto a few well Disciplin'd, doth yeeld
Her selfe, with all the Honour of the field.
Proud Xerxes, whose huge troopes dranke riuers drie
And euen with lowly plaines, made mountaines high,
[Page]Did flee from Greece, in a poore fishers boote,
Who whilome had so many Ships a floote,
As made a large Bridge, ouer Hellespont;
That had Leander liu'd, he might vpon't
Haue had a safe recourse, by night, or day,
To that saire Towre, where his sweet mistris lay.
Worth doth consist in qualitie alone;
Not quantitie: for the small precious stone,
Is at high rates, and value euer priz'd;
When greater flints, and pibles are despis'd.
Euen so, the vigour of an Armie stands
(Chiefely) in expert, and well order'd bands;
And not in throngs of men; whole force vnskil'd,
Doth rather let, then helpe to winne the field.
Old Rome, her Empires Armes had neuer spred,
From high-brow'd Taurus, to Sols wat'ry bed;
If that her expert Legions (so oft tride)
Could haue beene match'd, in all the world beside
Nor did her greatnesse any whit decrease,
Vntill that antient Discipline did cease,
By which shee had, to her first height, ascended;
And her wide Empires bounds so long defended.
Her Maiestie stood free from all decay,
While shee her thirtie Legions kept in pay.
But when sweete Asias womanish delights,
Had turn'd her Captaines, into carpet Knights:
Yea when her Souldiers, and Commanders both,
Were wholy giuen to pleasures, and to sloth;
And when true Discipline was laugh'd to scorne;
Her naked sides then by her foes were torne.
Great boundles minded Caesar (not content,
With Conquest of the Westerne continent)
[Page]Did passe the Seas, to find our Britaines out;
Who entertaind him with such courage stout;
That (if of skill, there had not beene a lacke)
The haughtie Romane had beene beaten backe.
Nor in those times, when Romes ambition fierce
Did search each corner of the vniuerse;
Stood we in greatest danger; for Romes hate
Is more then trebled toward vs, since that.
For now the time, doe greatest perils shew;
So many foes we'haue, and friends so few.
Needes then must my impartiall Muse commend
Those, whom their countries loue doth moue, to spend
Some houres, in Mars his Schoole, where loyall hearts
May learne the rule, of Militarie arts.
But thou (faire Norwich) by whose stone-rib'd side,
The gentle Y are in sandie path doth glide,
Creeping along thy meade with a slow pace,
As rauish'd with the beautie of thy face:
And parted from thee, still his loue doth shew
With frequent lookes, and softly sigh adue.
I praise thy wisedome, and thy prudent care,
That art in Peace, prouiding against warre:
As witnesse may that warlike practise bee,
Which now is so exactly taught in thee.
Oh what a gracefull qualitie it is,
To be expert in Martiall properties.
The Tennis-court, and bowling grounds smooth face,
Compar'd with the Artill'rie yard seeme base.
Those great Olimpicke Games, and Isthmian plaies
Did neuer merit such applause, and praise;
As doe those Martiall gymnickes in our daies:
Those games through oftentation were ordain'd
But ours for publicke weales sake be maintain'd.
[Page]To know each motion well, and to performe
Each title of command, in truest forme.
To doe the Muskets Postures dextrously:
And nimbly for to let a Bullet fly:
With aduantageous skill to manage p [...]ke:
To know to defend, and how to strike,
Doth not alone at hand, preuaile in fight,
But also doth farre of the foe affright.
These warlike principles be not obtain'd
All sudainely; but by long practise gain'd;
And (being gotten once) are soone forgot;
If often exercise preserues them not.
For frequent vse, and action must supplie
The habit; least it in a sudaine die.
And like the lampe, be soone extinguish'd quite,
When th'oyle is gone that should maintaine the light.
The antient French so fierce a people were,
And so great conquest got' they euery where,
That mightie Kings in awe of France then stood,
[...]
Seeking her friendship not her neighbour-hood:
When Charles the great in Italy had queld
The Lombards: and the Saracens expeld
From Spaine: and when the Saxons were compeld
To the French yoke their stubborne neckes to yeeld,
Dismay'd then were the Easterne Emperours:
Yea all the world did then feare Frances force.
Much honour likewise did Christs zealous Knight
Great Godfrey winne for France; when he did fight
His Sauiours fields, in those vnchristn'd lands,
Where his chiefe hopes on frenchmens valour stands
But vertues growne t'extreames, breed worse effects.
Then ere could haue beene caus'd by their defects.
[Page]For this fierce Nation vs'd to Warres, and spoyles,
When forraine foes did faile, broch'd ciuill broyles:
That their Kings (for to remedie these harmes)
Were forced to forbid the vse of Armes
Vnto the vulgar sort, and them compell'd
Or to turne vp the bowels of the field,
Or for to plie mechanicke faculties;
Debarring them from warlike exercise.
Thus France her antient reputation lost,
Beaten by Sea, and Land, on euerie coast.
And few I thinke but Frenchmen will denie,
That French are Europe basest Infant'rie.
Armour for Warre, from the Arsenall is brought,
But weapons for the Victorie be wrought
In forge of discipline: could furious might,
Or strength of brawnie limmes preuaile in fight,
Then who could match those huge Patagones,
Or buckle with those Westerne Sauages
Whom Spaine makes slaues: or if actiuitie
Alone could winne a glorious Victorie,
Then who could match the light Numidians,
That like wild Goates on craggie rockes can dance
Then who could match the Kerne, or Galloglasse,
That on the quaking Boggs as safely passe,
As we on firmest plaines: or if the skill
Of mannaging a horse at Riders will,
Could winne the day, then had not in such sort
The French beene slaughtr'd at their Agincourt.
Or if by number conquest might be wonne,
Then had the Greekes beene foyl'd in Marathon.
Thus neither horsemanship, nor many hands,
Strength, nor actiuitie, the field commands:
[Page]But the well order'd foote that be refin'd
By exercise, and throughly disciplin'd,
These alway winne the fortune of the day,
For Fortune doth true Fortitude obey.
Nor in those elder times (before the Munke,
Bertoidus Swartz inuen­ted Gunnes, Au. Dom. 1; 8c. They were first vsed by the Ve­netians. Gord.
Inuented had his murther-spitting trunke;
That plague of valour, height of Hels dispite)
Was warlike Discipline so requisite,
As now it is: for there's requir'd more skill,
To handle well a Gunne, then a blacke bill.
Of Policie, order's the soule alone:
And Natures very life (that being gone)
Things cease to be: for should the golden Sunne
Swa [...]ue from the course, which he hath wont to runne
Roaming at randome vp and downe in heauen:
Or should the Starres; and those bright Planets seuen,
Not walke those rounds, which God hath the appointed,
Soone should the worlds great fabricke be dis-ioynted
But a great Armie (where nor Captaines know
What to command, nor silly Souldiers how
To execute) is like a Galeon
Of mightie bulke, ill rig'd, and floating on
The surging maine, without sufficient stores
Oftackling, ballast, and waue-sliceing ores,
With sayles vntrimm'd, and wanting at the sterne
An expert Pilot, that should well discerne
The Chanels course; and know each creeke and cape,
And by what point, his course he should forth shape.
(Doubtlesse) if Aeoles ruffling sonnes should [...]
This forlorne vessell, in so weake plight, then
From their fierce rage, shee hardly should escape
To harbour, without perill of rape.
[Page]Euen so those great Armadoes, that consist
Of huge vnexpert troupes, and a long lift
Of mens bare names,
[...].
doe oft become a prey
To their fierce foes, and seldome winne the day.
That sonne of Mars, that valiant Epirot,
That matchlesse Prince, thrice worthy Castriot,
In two and twentie bloudy fights, compeld
Huge Turkish Armies, to forsake the field:
Nor euer did his greatest strength, and force,
Exceed fiue thousand men (both foote and horse)
On order, doth eternitie depend:
And Victorie, is Discip'ines faire end.
Victorie, that blisse of Kings, that sole good
Which Warre affords, whose face besmeard with blood,
More tempting loues doth to her darlings offer;
Then Cleopatr'as lippe, when shee did ptoffer
A courtly Kisse, to great Marke Anthonie;
Who with the splendour of her Maiestie
Was to a Statue strooke, and stood amaz'd,
As one that on the Gorgons scalpe had gaz'd,
But some there be (I know) that thus obiect:
What need we thus our businesse neglect?
What needes this Sturre? this idle exercise?
Secure are we, from sorraine enemies:
Our streetes haue in these many yeares not heard
The voice of Warre, there's nothing to be fear'd
No inrodes, nor incursions, doe affright
Our fearefull Hindes: no out-cries rais'd by night
Are [...] of approaching foes: no fires
Doe crowne our Beacons: and all those are lyers,
Which say that Spaine, dares venture for to trie
Another Voyage, against Britanie.
[Page]Let vs tend our affaires, confine our selues
Vnto our Shops; and while the Peasant delues,
And rips his Mothers wombe, to find out wealth,
Let vs grow rich by sleight of tongue, and stealth.
While others ply their Militarie Arts,
We will be sure to learne to play our parts;
To cogge, and foyst, to keepe our measures short,
To vent bad Ware, and take good Money for't.
Let's cocker vp our Wiues, and keepe them neate;
Raise our selues high with sweete lasciuious meate
For luxurie: Lets cheate, and cousen all;
The pinching Carle, and profuse prodigall.
In truth to cheate the wicked no sinne tis;
They must be plagu'd for their iniquities.
But heare me (friend) thou that hast done more ills,
Then ere were punish'd on those wofull Hills,
Of mournefull Magdalene: thou who dost thriue
By knauerie, and cous'nage; which canst diue
Into the depth of craft, to rake for pelfe;
And robbe ten thousand, to enrich thy selfe:
Thou which dost maske thy crimes, with gestures pure:
And think'st th'art safe, so long as th'art secure:
Be not deceiu'd: for know thy sinne alone,
Deserues nought lesse, then an inuasion.
But though all forraine enemies should faile;
(As Vengeances too small, to counteruaile
Our wickednsse) the Deuill may find out
Some daring Ket, in borroughs here about;
To plague vs, and make pillage of our goods,
To fire our houses, and to spill our bloods.
If heauens iust wrath, should send such punishments;
Then who should be best able for defence;
[Page]But these that be with warlike skill endu'd,
To bring in order the rude multitude.
And while those dolts, that haue but skill enough
To weigh their plummes, or measure out their stuffe,
Shall be vnable to obey command;
These shall be fit, each one, to lead a band.
But suppose that heauens awfull ordinance,
Had confin'd Warre, to Germanie, or France:
Suppose our Land from broyles should alway bee
As safe, as Ireland is from vipers free:
Yet is this exercise, and warlike sport,
Thrice more praise-worthy, then the Tennis court,
Or Bowling Alley, where losse and expences,
Breed many discontentments, and offences.
Then (worthy Citizens) into whose hearts
The wise Prometheus, hath infus'd three parts.
Of those pure spritefull flames, which he did steale,
From bright Apollos radiant charret wheele;
Yee that your priuate cares can intermit,
And spare some houres, for publike benefit:
Frequent yee still Bellona's Court, and know
More Postures, then can all the Souldiers show;
That ere Bloud thirstie Belgia daign'd to spare
From all the furies of a lingring warre
But (that your exercise may euer last)
Yee must be joyned all together fast,
Within the Golden cord, of Vnitie:
All may en [...]oy the same immunitie,
In [...] nath command: it skils not who
The colours beares (so long as theres no foe)
That place, or grace, which all alike may merit,
(In my conceite) all may by course inherit.
[Page]Then let no Enuie, nor ambitious thought,
Breake that societie, which time hath wrought
By vertues helpe: let disagreement neuer,
The ioynts of your fraternitie disseuer:
But if soule Discord, that Tartarean else,
(Who in eternall darknesse, waste her selfe
With dire imaginations, and damn'd thought,
To bring each worthy exercise to nought)
Shall fill your hearts, with the Cadmeian seede
Of strife; then let my Muse, with pow'rfull reede,
Those mischiefes charme, and repossesse your minds
With that respect, which louely concord binds.
So did (of yore) the Thracian Lyrist'swage,
With his concenting notes, the direfull rage
Of Greekish youths, when they had forgot quite
The golden steece, for which they went to fight,
Each other seeking to depriue of life,
So fell was their debate, so great their strife.
Discords the bane of things, a poyso'us worme,
That doth infest the ioynts of States, a storme
Which many Common wealths hath ruined,
And many hopefull actions frustrated:
Nor can I here, forbeare to interpose
Those vnauspicious quarrels,
Sa ad [...]us [...]ti­am Ni [...]rosoly­mam sponte no­ [...]bs reddidiss [...], [...]. Ex litt [...] ­ [...] Rich., ad [...]oelest. 2
that arose,
Betweene stout Cuer de Lyon, and his brother
In law, and Armes, who sworne to aide each other,
Yet entertaind (in stead of loue) deepe hate:
And by a separation, tempted fate
To the defeate, of their great enetrprise:
For which proud Philip Richards worth enuies,
He is required with as deepe disdaine;
And soone (for spite) returnd to France againe:
[Page]But (if their mutuall vowes they had not broke)
Christs Citie then, had cast off Isma'ls yoke.
But Concord, is the strength of Warre, in field,
And Campe, more torci [...]le, then sword, and shield:
Of Conquest, that's the truest augurie;
[...] of hope, portent of victorie.
Faire Belgia had long since beene de [...]flowr'd,
By the Hesperian Dragon, and deuour'd,
Had thee admitted any inbred st [...]fe:
Concord's her sinewes, bloud, and very life.
Her sheate of arrowes bound together fast,
A Lyon with a sheafe of Ar­rowes in his paw; the Armes of Holland.
Are th'auspice of her welfare; which shall last;
So long, as doth the rampant Lyon hold,
His shafts vnbroke: and as (in dayes of old)
The wearie Greekes, at Troy found good successe,
When they had got the sha [...]ts of Hercules:
Euen so,
Scylurus so li­ [...]e os ha [...]ens, mor [...]turus [...]asci­culum. [...] [...]al [...] ­rum stugalis porrexit, ius­s [...], rumpere, [...] cum n [...]r­p [...] n [...]pse sin­gul. [...]icult ex­e [...]t; at (que) [...]fac [...]e co [...]f [...] egit on [...]ni [...]. [...]ilos d­inon [...]h [...]s ver­bis: Sic [...]en­d [...]s er [...]s, &c. Plut. Apop.
Scylurus arrowes shall maintaine
The Netherlands, against the pride of Spaine.
Concord's that glolden chaine, let downe from heauen
On [...]hose well order'd linkes, dependeth euen
The worlds stabilitie: it doth combine
Both hearts, and hands, and prosper each deligue.
In all [...], sicknesse breedes,
Which of the d [...]proportion'd humours feedes;
For these vneuen' [...]y mixt, such a [...],
That it the bodies common health decayes,
If some Physi [...]ion [...]oth not the [...] attone,
And by an ostracisme, expell that one,
Which is predominant: That confus'd m [...]sse
Of things (which Chaos hight) maintained was
By Discord, and while shee there dominear'd,
No hight, no heau'n, no Sea, no earth appear'd;
[Page](Thrust thence by Ioue) shee crept into mens hearts;
Where shee began to play her deuilish parts;
For being sirre too weake, to worke her ends
Against the greater world, her force shee bends
Against the lesse;
Bellum inte [...] d [...]os A [...]d [...]on [...] ­cost am p [...]and. [...] p. [...]. [...] I). [...]. 1321. [...] Ma [...] 4 [...] I [...]han: [...] [...]a [...]nt H [...] [...], Va [...]., A.D [...]. 713 N [...]rse [...] (con [...] ­ [...]nclia acc [...]a ab [...]n [...]e [...]r [...]ce Sop [...]) [...]cc [...]rsit Lo [...] o [...]ardos in Italian. [...]nno Dom. [...]. Pa [...]lus Diac
inciting men to iarres,
To murthers, [...]easons, and to Ciuill warres.
Faire Greece shee first exspos'd to Turkish pride.
The Moores from Africke, shee to Spaine did guide.
The Lombards shee brought into Italy.
And on the cheekes of France, and Germany,
The bloudie Characters are to be red,
The balefull sluttes, that Discord there hath bred.
Nor doth Apollo any Climate see,
That from her malice, hath beene alway free:
Then from your brests, driue that Echidna dire
(O braue Pretorian band) and wi [...]h the fire
Of sacred loue; do Enuies eyes out-seare:
And from soule Slanders mouth, her tongue out teare
Let friendship b [...]nish all debate, and strife,
And giue your excercise both strength, and life.
Nor let my gentle Muse alone inspire,
Loues sweete consents, but fill'd with that pure fire.
Which Phoebus lends his impes, let her high fits,
Moue noble hearts (as time and place permits)
To learne this Art of order, and to know
Their Rankes, and Postures perfectly; for now
Monstrous abuses routed haue the age;
And Knauerie rides in Knight-hoods equipage:
Few keepe their Rankes; yet in the front stalkes-pride
And alway takes the right-hand file beside:
Sheeleadeth on the forlone hope, and will
(Though shee to Hell-gate march) be formost still.
[Page]Great euils, with great honours be combin'd
And ma [...]ch like Pikes, with Muskets interlin'd.
Our Postures are French conges, and few can:
Know Mounsieur, from an English Gentleman:
So like are we to them, so frenchify'd
In garbes and garment: but great God forbid,
That our new [...]angled change should ere declare.
Such sad euents, as did the Scimitar,
Or King Darius: for his Sword alone,
A sheath of Greekish fashion, did put on:
And then his Magi cry'd, it was a signe,
That he to Greece, his Empire should resigne:
But we our selues, our gestures, and our swords,
In French are drest vp; yea our very words,
Haue put on French dissimulation:
Oh, blind, absurd, fond, foolish nation,
That (light Chamaeleon-like) art what thou see'st;
A painted Argos, of all gath'rings piec'd.
But are we all transform'd to Woolues, and Apes?
Doe none retaine those old Herculian shapes
Of Vertue? yes: for God defend, that all
Should be Lycanthropiz'd; least heauen should fall,
To stop vp with her ruines, Sinnes blackeiawes,
And crush oppressions vnrelenting pawes.
No, no: (thankes be to our kinder Starres) yet liues
That Vestall flame in many brests, which giues
Refreshing heate, to each good enterprise:
These helpe old Atlas, to proppe vp the skies:
These stand (like brazen Colosses) vnmou'd
By chance, or passion: these neuer lou'd
Informing dogs; nor ere (to fill their purses)
Heard Orphanes cryes, or Widowes baleful curses.
[Page]These neere to any greatnesse did aspire;
But Vertue: nor ere sought to be higher
In fortunes fauour, then in Gods these scan
Worth, by defart, and though they truely can
Make good their Gentrie [...]m my wayes; sach wayes,
As now the basenesse of the time bewrayes,
As large demeanes, great place, or pedigrees,
Yet these disdainning, that their worth should bee
Produc'd from smokie titles, or base peise,
Or dust, and rotten bones, each from himselfe
His worship, or his honour, doth deriue;
And by his proper actions doth descriue;
A Gentleman: for Fortune can't inherit
(By right) those graces, which pertaine to merit:
And wretched is that Gentrie, which is gotten
From their deedes, that long since be dead and rotten
The sauour of the Prince, and Fortune, arts,
And Ancestrie, are but the outward parts
Of true Nobilitie, for her soule is,
An harmonie, of vert'ous qualities:
But should we search the world (may some replie)
From Cales, to Calicut, and sharply prie
Both into Vniuersitie, and court;
Trauerse all Countries, and belay each port,
We hardly should meete with so braue a wight.
Yes, yes; such be they whose names to recite,
My Muse is proud; nor euer shall these want
Roome in my Verses (be they nere so scant)
For worth as well deserues a Panegyricke,
As vice doth Satyrs, or a Thiefe a Diricke,
Selfe-wild opinion is, mistaken farre
To deeme, that noble vertues praises are
[Page]Smooth flatteries: and Enuie is farre wide,
To thinke that any baser end can guide
A Poets aymes. Although we know those walkes,
Where Fortune vpon heapes of ingots stalkes,
And see her golden Temple dayly full
O [...] sweating Votaries: where Knaue, and Gull
Haue accesse free; and though we well descry,
What offrings shee accepts most gratefully:
Yet we her Altars shunne, because we know,
That many (which her fauours buy) doe owe
To Iustice such ha [...]d debts, that mercies bayle
Will scarce be found, to saue them from hell-Iayle
Vaine, foolish Men, although they plainely see
All good is there, where grace and wisedome bee,
Yet they of Fortune, doe a Goddesse make,
Aduancing her to heauen, and for her sake,
Dare plunge themselues into a fouler lake;
Then Curtius did Romes pestilence to sl [...]ke [...]
But (noble Gentlemen) yee that doe hold
Faire vertue, at a higher rate, then gold:
Yee, whose affections scorne to serue the times,
Whose sleepes rue not the harmes, of fore-past crimes,
Whose names were neere marked with the priuie seale
Of Fame, for p [...]lling of the common [...]weale:
Yee, that (from Cities tumult seuerd) know
Those sweete contents, which from retirement flow
Though not Tibe [...]-like at Capreae:
For priuacies, as oft the Midwiues bee.
Of [...]ls, as good: but yee reserue your leasures
For nobler ends, then vaine and flitting pleasures.
Nor doe the times bid vs securely sleepe,
But rather warne vs a strong gard to keepe.
[Page]The East looke blacke with danger, and the South
Seemes to inuade the North, with open mouth.
Our beaten foes their forces now vnite,
Arm'd with dire misca [...]fe, rage, and fell despite.
But Spaine is poore, and weake (as some replie)
Long War [...]es exhausted [...]aue his treasurie.
The Netherlands: haue drawne his Coffers drie
Yet Indian mines (we answere) soone supplie
Those wants; for from the Western world doth come
His Nauie duely, fraught with treasure home.
Nor is the Warre maintain'd by Austrian purses
Alone: for somewhat beside Buls and curses
The Pope allowes, and to the offring cals
Many fat Priests, and well fed Cardinals,
For whom (though nere so sparing) would stand by
And, not helpe to roote out a her [...]sie.
Another sort I heare speake better sence:
And th [...]se relie on Gods omnipotence:
Tis true: his mercie onely can vs keepe;
But if we in our wickednesse still sleepe,
And yet suppose that he shall vs defend,
We miserably erre: what doe protend
Our foule prodigious sinnes, but death and warre,
Titanicke pride, that God to his face dares.
Ramping Oppression, with her hundreth pawes,
Abusing to her priuate gaine the lawes.
And Couetise, that with her swinish snout,
Root [...]s vp all goodnesse, to find money out.
Soft handed sloth, spruce smiling Luxurie,
Dull Drunkennesse, swolne-bellyd Gluttonie,
Vnbridled ire, pale Enuie, viperous hate;
These are the Comets which doe ominate
[Page]The scourge of Warre; then tis t [...]me to repent,
Least we too late seeke to shunne the euent.
Last night, when sweete repose had closd mine eyes,
Strange thoughts began my fancie to surprise:
For the dull God of sleepe, that hates the morne,
And from his gate of Iuorie, and horne,
Sends silent troupes of dreames forth euerie night,
Caus'd horrid Phobetor me to affright,
Quid Meta. l. 1 [...]
In sundrie shapes: me thought I was transported
To a strange Land, such as is not reported
By Munster, or old Sir Iohn Mandeuile.
Nor know I (Certes) whether t'were an Ile,
Or parcell of the maine; therein appear'd
Great Cities, Townes, and Towres, that seem'd to beard
The very clouds; and the soyle seem'd to bee
Exceeding fertile: for on euery tree
The pendant clustres hung, as faire to sight,
As the Hesperian fruit: Grapes red, and white,
Pomegranates, Limons, Figs, and Oranges,
With wondrous plentie, seem'd the field to blesse,
Desiring then to see those happie men,
That had so faire a Countrie, to dwell in,
I to a Citie went, thinking to find
The beautifullest race, of all mankind.
(But there arriu'd) most strange t'is to be told,
What various formes of beasts, I did behold:
Nothing like Man saw I there, but huge Ap [...],
And hayrie Satires, greedie of foule rapes;
Buls, Buffles, Boores, fierce Tygers, Dragons, Dogs,
Beares, Camels, Woolues, slow Asses, Horses, Hogs,
And Monsters, such as Nilus neuer bred,
Nor Africas foule desarts nourished,
[Page]Iueery streete d [...]d clusters, o [...] e [...]ch han [...],
As thicke as [...]earme [...]t [...]d Gallants on the strand.
All Birds of prey, and eke all vacleane fo [...]les,
Did nestle there; fierce Eagle, Griffons, Owles,
Foule Ostriches, and Bats, I there des [...]ryd;
And earnestly their new guest all these ey'd;
That I sore fe [...]'d their entertainement rough,
And often wish'd my selfe thence farre enough.
While I stood thus amaz'd an Ape drew [...]eare,
Whose age did in his [...]u [...]lld f [...]e appeare.
This was their Ciues I owne- [...]a [...]ke, [...] did seeme,
For he their onely speake was I deeme
He with a low accoast; thus did me ge [...]te.
Stranger (quoth he) I kisse thy happie teete,
That brought the [...] hither, where thou mayst dr [...]nke store
Of richest draughts, that shall refresh thee more,
Then strong Nepenthe; and make thy wits quicker
Then can Lyae [...]s, or the spitefull licour,
That Ioue, and all the Gods so fre [...]ly swill'd,
The merrie night ensuing [...], field.
Nor let our various shapes, make thee disdaine
Our kind societie (my gentle swaine)
For although we▪ th [...] shapes of beasts doe shew,
Yet we retaine the minds of men, and know
Thrice more content then they: Our Land is clep [...]t
Faire Polytheria, where great Circe kept
Her cou [...]t of [...]ore: Circe that awfull Queene,
The daughter of the Sun [...]e, who of [...] was seene
To change mid-day, to mid-night, and to cause
Aestiuall Snowes and breake the vipers iawes.
To driue a riuer backe, to his spring head,
To make Seas stand vnmou'd, and to strike dead
[Page]The haruest eare; her cup and wand so mightie,
Which made the F [...]ends obey her great Venite,
We stlil reserue [...] nor doe we deeme the race,
Whereof we are deriu'd our meanest grace:
From that victorious ancestrie we grow,
That did faire Asias glorie ouerthrow,
In Troyes great ruines: nor were these (I sweare)
The baser sort, but such as consorts were
Of great Vlysses, on whose name still stickes
The honour of Troyes fall, nor need we fixe
Our worth aloue on a bare pedigree;
Our actions shew what our deseruings bee;
Which yee men partly know, and must confesse,
That we haue sent you succour, in distresse.
Here was the Ramme bred, that did bring
Great
Cum Liber Pater per deser­tum Libyae ex­cercitum du [...]e­ret & sit [...] ad­mod [...]m labora­ret; implo [...]ass [...] ae Patra anxiliu [...] dicatur; Quo sacto app [...]uisse e [...] e [...]templ [...] Ar [...] ­ote [...]; quidu [...] sugientem per­sequitur, per­ [...]enisse [...]tl [...] duct [...]a fontem amae­nissimum. Al [...] terraati [...]t [...]pedae concussa fomtem exil [...]sse tradun [...] Plin. l. 6.
Liber Paters Armie to the spring,
When they in Africkes deserts were tormented
With scortching thirst. Those white
A [...]eresnon se [...]ellere, quibus sacr [...] Iunoni [...] summa [...]noppa [...]ibi tamen ab­stinebatur, quae ressalut [...]su [...]t, [...]an (que) c'angore [...]orui [...], alar [...]m (que) crep [...]tu ex [...]tus. M. Manlius, &c T. [...]iu lib [...]
Geese the preuented
The Gaules from taking of the Capitoll
Were some of vs. And that py'd Memphian
Vide Alex­and a [...] Ale [...]and spar [...]am.Marc.
Bull,
For whom the Egyptians fell at deadly iarres
Was ours.
Vide [...].Va­ler, de fic [...]a [...]elig.
Sertorius in his Spanish warres,
Sou [...]ht counsell of our Hind. The Asse
Of Apulciu [...]; and the
Bo [...]locut [...]; Romaca [...]e [...]ibi. Liu. li. 35.
Oxe that was
Heard speake at Rome. The Epidaurian
Vide Plin. l. [...] Ouid Me [...]. 1 [...]. [...] Sab [...]i ca [...]i [...]. Aues a Pjaphone edo [...]ae [...]qui; Mag [...]s Deus [...]sapho. M. V [...]
Snake;
And Dogge that dy'd for his deare Masters sake
Were bred with vs. The Coblers prating Daw;
And Isapho's Birds did here their first ayre draw;
And so did Mahomets tame Pigeon,
That holpe to found his new religion.
I could tell later prankes, till I were hoarce,
[Page]Of Willoughbbyes blacke Cat, and Banckes his horse;
This place (I tell thee) is the onely Cell,
Where arts enlink'd with rich content doe dwell.
And that thi [...]e eye may witnesse what I say;
Here follow me: then he leades me away.
Vnto a Castle, whose high towred brow
Did checke the winds, and seem'd to ouer-crow
The cloudes: there Lyons, Tygers, Panthers sweete,
As tame as fawning Spaniels did vs meete.
Then to a spacious Hall we came, that stood
On pillars of tough Brasse; nor stone, nor wood
Were seene in it; and there I pleased my sight
With the Picture of the Dulychian Knight:
Eurylochus, and he whose braines were wash'd
So well with Wine, that life and wits were cash'd
Were Pictur'd there, and many a Greeke beside
That with Vlysses there did long abide.
Faire was the stuffe, but thrice more faire the art,
That there was to be seene in euery part.
While I admir'd here what mine eyes beheld,
The Ape brought me a cup with wine vp fill'd
And bids me drink't; that then I might find grace
To see things farre more rare, in that faire place.
I in my trembling hand receiu'd the cup,
That was of Gold, and dranke the licour vp:
Then soone the poysons force did touch my braine,
And through my body crept in euery veine:
And while my case I thought to haue deplo [...]'d,
Thinking to speake my griefes, aloud I ror'd:
My hands (I saw) were chang'd to grisly pawes,
My clothes to sh [...]ggie haires; with yawning iawes
My mouth did gape; and I perceiu'd my shape
[Page]Was like a Lyons: then began the Ape
With gentle words, to cure my discontent.
Good friend (quoth he) thou shalt thee not repent
Of thy arriuall here; though thou hast lost
Thy former shape, and feature, be not crost:
For shrowded in this shape, thou shalt obtaine
More knowledge, then did euer mortall gaine.
Then by long winding stayres, and walkes he drew me,
Vnto a spacious roome, where he did shew me,
The
Vide Art [...] ­tel. De Magia.
Booke, the Gemme, and Magicke horne, all which
If any man can get, he shall be rich,
Long-liu'd, a King, and fortunate,
Yea what he will: the Rings of Polycrate,
Of happie Giges, and wise
Vide Cornel [...] Agripp. Deoc­cult. Philos. li. [...]. cap. 27.
Iarchas; and
The Sword of Paracelsus, with the wand
Of Circe, and the roote
Vide C. Plin. secun. l 30. ca. 2.
Osirides,
With Zoroastres his Ephimerides;
And those mysterious books which taught great
Romanieux Sibyll [...]s libris edocti se domi­nos mundi infli­tuerunt. Arb.
Rome
To make the World obey her awfull doome;
These and an hundred things as strange, beside
The Ape did shew me; also there I spi'd
Lopez his poyson, in a Glasse of Crystall;
Rauillacs bloudy Knife, and Parries Pistoll:
But looking into a darke hurne aside,
I Mattockes, Spades, and Pick-axes descri'd,
With Pouder barrels, heap'd vp altogether:
Then did the Ape me lead, I know not whether:
But many slayers deepe, I am sure we went;
That Hels darke way so steepe as this descent,
I weene is not: at last a gloomie cell
We came vnto, that seem'd as blacke as Hell,
But for the Torches which there daily burn'd:
[Page]Such is the Cell, where (when the Pope's envrn'd)
The Fathers meete, to find another foole.
Fit for the tryall, of the
Proph [...]ria ca­thedra qu [...] Pontifex continud at ei [...]s [...]reat [...]one resi­det [...] [...]edent [...] genitalia ab [...]l­timo Discono attrecteniur. Sab [...]llicus.
porphyre stoole.
This was their Counsell-house, where in they sate
Discussing matters, that belong'd to state:
Mischiefes, and treasons, warre conspiracies,
False treaties, stratagems, confed'racies,
Were here hatch'd and now hence was comming forth,
A plot against the Lyons of the North,
The subtile Dragon,
The Aimes of the ancient Kings of France were Trees crapaux satu [...]ne, in a Field Sol. Guil.
and the Griffon fierce
That seekes the Empire of the Vniuerse:
The Eagle, and the Toade, were here assembled;
To heare whose bloudy proiects, my heart trembled
Against the Northerne Lyons they were bent,
To vse all crueltie, and punishment,
For wrongs late done: the Dragon fell doth crie
Th'are Heretickes, and therefore ought to die.
The Griffon sware, t'was not to be allow'd,
That Luth'rane should their heads in this world shroud
The Eagle wish'd, he neuer might be blist,
If ere he spar'd a filthy Caluinist.
The spitefull Toad did wish his bones might rot,
If e [...]e he ment to saue a Huguenot.
The Dragon much did praise their readinesse,
And promis'd that the action be would blesse,
And vow'd he would be lib'rall of his crosses
To those braue soules, that durst aduenture losses
Of liues, or limmes, in that designement; and
If any chanc'd to fall, he would command
The Angels to transport him presently
To heauen, without a Purgatorie.
But that the world might not their malice sent,
[Page]They meant to cast out tales, that their intent
Was to giue to Religion, her first grace
And puritie: thus with a painted face
They mask'd their deuilish end. While I gaue eare
To their damn'd counsels; I felt a new feare:
For from beneath I heard an hideous found,
As it some Earthquake dire had clest the ground
Or Hell her selfe approach to make one,
In their mischieuous consultation.
So Neptune scourged with the Northwind rores:
Such is the clangour, of a thousand ores
Falling at once vpon the surging waue:
The Witches in their conuenticles haue
Such Musicke, as was this for t'was the noyse
Of the infernall pow'rs, that did reioyce,
To see that Hellish-plot contriu'd, and wrought,
That might bring all the world againe to nought.
With such obstrep'rous sounds, my sence they strooke,
That I sleepes gentle fetters then off shooke.
Nor is our danger but a dreame (I feare)
So many signes presaging it, appeare.
For what can we expect, but sturdy blowes,
From our combin'd exasperated foes.
Then high time tis freth courage for to broch
When pale-fac'd death, and ruine seemes t'approach.
(Braue Gentlemen) learne to be prodigall
Of blond; feare nought that may befall
But insamie; meete death in any shape,
And grapple with blacke danger, though he gape
As wide as Hell: know that this life of yours
Is but a breath, or blast, or like Mayes flowers
Yet neuer is priz'd at so high a rate;
[Page]As when tis nobly lost: then animate
Your selues with braue example, and shanne not
That Fate, which our late worthy heroes got,
With endlesse fame to boote. Yea let Spaine know.
And neuer thinke on't, but with horrour; how
We children are to those, that did defeate
Their great Armada; and them often beate
A broad, and eke at home, and let proud France
Reueiw those times, when her Warres did aduance
Our English Gentlemen. Let that blacke day
Of Agincourt,
Anno Do. 1 [...]87. Charles 6. with a N [...]uie of [...] co. saile, threatned to inuade Eng­land, hauing prouided such store of Muni­tion & strange engines, as the like was sel­dome heard of.
with terrour still dismay
Her halfe-dead trembling heart; nor euer let her
Expect successe, or any fortune better
'Gainst vs: twice with two num'rous Armies shee
Did England threate; yet durst but once scarce see
Our pale Cliffes, with her paler lookes, and then
Turn'd sterne, and cowardly ranne home agen:
If shee the third time, should attempt the like,
Let the like feares her heart appall, and strike.
But (what soeuer betide) t'is meete that we
Should stand vpon our gard,
Anno Do. 1545. The French with an A [...]mie of 60000, men came for England; but [...] their en­tertainment [...] pr [...]ue too h [...]te, saint­ly and friendly they went [...] me againe.
and euer be
Prepar'd, both to make good, our owne defence,
And strike our foes: but since experience
Is thought our greatest want there must be found
A medicine to applie to that deepe wound,
Which Discipline is call'd; this whole some cure
Yee Gentlemen must often put in vre;
Yee, that haue charge of Bands, your dutie tis
To traine them vp, with frequent exercise.
Nor by your Must'ring once, or twice a yeare,
Doe yee discharge your duties, but I feare
If forraine foes should driue vs to our fence,
[Page]We all should suffer for your negligence.
Tis rather sitting, that each Month should yeeld
A day, to draw your Souldiers to the field.
For our tough Husbandmen, on whom depends
Our chiefest strength, so mind their proper ends,
That they to weild their Armes haue soone forgot,
If often exercise enures them not.
These with their Bowes, of stiffe, and trustie Eugh
The Caualrie of France oft ouerthrew.
And in one Month more spoyle, and Conquest wonne
Then they had thought could in a yeare be done.
But now the fierie weapons haue cashierd
Those ancient Armes, that made our name so fear'd
Through all the World, nor hath ease so decay'd
Our courage, or our nerues, but by the aid
Of Discipline, we may retriue that Fame,
Which we so lately lost; and rayse a name,
That may our bragging foes a fresh dismay,
More then the name of Spinola doth fray.
Our women, or our women-hearted men.
Nor doe I that old Genouese contemne:
He dares doe much, where we dare not oppose:
He Conquers all, especially leane foes:
If they be fat, they are not for his diet,
He rather an whole twelue-month had lie quiet;
Till they be famish'd to his hand: what though,
He to his fellow Genewayes doth owe
Large summes; his Master will pay all tick-tacke,
If the Plate fleere comes home without a wracke,
When that the Towne is wonne: what Towne? Bred [...]
By whom wa'st wonne? by Marques Spinola.
I scarce beleeue't: then goe and see; for there.
[Page]Vpon the gate in scul'pture doth appeare
The mem'rie of that famous enterprise.
How wonn't he; by assault or by surprise!
No: by a famine. In what space? a yeare,
Wanting two monthes. What force had he there?
Twice twentie thousand men. Then there he spent,
More then he got. I, that's most euident.
Yet much renowne he had. I, that or nought,
Though it at a deare rate-King Philip bought.
But if Don Ambrose may of Conquest boast,
For taking in the Towne, with so much cost,
And time, and losse; then what did Heraughtere
Deserue; that in one night accomplish'd cleare,
A Conquest more compleate, with seuentie men;
Then he so strong, and so long space could win.
As when the cunning Forresters haue plac'd
Their wel-wouen toyles, and heards of wild beasts chac'd
Into their snares; yet daring not inuade
The furious heards, with bore-speare or with blade,
For feare of their sell ire; with a strong gard
They them surround, and keepe them thus vpbarrd,
Till pinching famine makes them faint and weake;
And then at will their teene on them they wreake.
Thus was Breda by Spinola obtain'd,
Sharpe famine, not his force, the Citie gain'd.
Oftend to-ruines turn'd, he wonne at last
For Phoebus through the Zodiacke thrice had past,
Yet still the Towne held out: some others prate
Of his Acts done in the Palatinate,
Where few were to resist: yet this is hee
That's thought inuincible; although we see
His base retreat from Bergen did well shew
[Page]That he may meete his match sometimes. Tis true:
Yet tis not good to thinke our strength so great,
That he dares not against vs worke some feate.
Our craggie Cliffes, we ought not to trust to;
Whose huge Enclosures bound our Hand so.
Ambition dares the roaring billowes passe;
Of force to raine towres of lasting brasse;
Whose cankerd rage we must meete face to face
With Spartane hearts (for so requires our case)
Since for defence we haue no Wals of stone,
Our surest gard must be our Wals of bone.
And yee, our vnkind brethren that affect
The faire terme of Catholicke in respect
Of your Religion,
Apo [...] repl [...]. to our Papists.
and with that name,
Contend in vaine, to hide your mothers shame;
Your Mother Rome, that famous Paramore
Of Kings, and Princes, that need Hellebore.
Shee (like Semiramis) is wont to kill
Her Louers, when of Lust shee hath her fill.
Yee that beneath an English face, doe hood
A Spanish heart, preferring forraine good,
Before your Englands health; alwayes in hand,
Vpon the ruines of your natiue land,
To build Spaines Monarchie, and make that Prince
A Catholicke in Empire, that long since,
Was onely fain'd in faith to be the same.
But trust yee not the talke of flatt'ring fame.
That tels you Spaine is mercifull, and iust,
Not led by ill desire, or any lust
Of domination, to set footing here,
Least his false play too soone to you appeare,
And yee too late your follies see: let not
[Page]Vtopian ioyes your iudgements so besot,
To make you thinke that change of Gouernment,
The Duke of M [...]d [...]a Gene­rall of the Spa­nish Forces in 88 said that his sword shold not make any difference be­tweene Papist or Protestant, so hee could make way for his Master to the Conquest of the I [...]and.
Produceth the most absolute content:
Trust not Spaines glosses, but rather conceit
What proud Medina said in eightie eight.
Spaine for Religion fights (as he pretends)
But spoyle, and Conquest, are his mainest ends.
When Paris had stolne his light Minion,
No lesse then fiftie Kings combin'd in one,
Protested, that for this disgracefull rape,
Troy should not their seuerell vengeance scape:
Yet was not iust reuenge the chiefest end
Of their designe (whats'ere they did pretend)
For each sought to get Helen for a wife,
And this indeede was cause of so much strife.
Euen so your Patrone of Castile protests,
That he his Armes puts on, for a redresse
Of holy Churches wrongs; when he nought lesse
Intends; setting Religion for a stale,
To catch the Empire of the West withall.
Beleeue it, Conquest is his certaine end;
To which, he doth by direst mischiefes tend;
To that through Seas of guiltlesse bloud he wades,
Cutting his passage out with murd'ring blades:
Or like Amilcars sonne,
S [...]at Haniball [...]e [...] Al [...]s. L [...]u.
with fl [...]mes of fire,
And Vinegar, makes way for his desire.
(England subdu'd) could yee hope to stand by
Secure spectatours of the Tragedy:
No, no: though for a time yee might be free,
Your liues should make vp the Catastrophe.
This p [...]ledge perhaps yee might obtaine,
That is, to be the last that should be slaine.
[Page]Then ioyne with vs; be not so impious,
To stand against your Countries Genius,
Let vs together ioyne, with hearts vpright,
The which shall pray, while our hands ply the fight.
Striue not (like Phartons iades) to ouerthrow
Your Master, least yee also fall as low.
Attempt not to vnbarre your Countries gate
To forraine foes, least yee repent too late
Your treacherie, for be assur'd that none
Did euer Traitours loue (the Treason done.)

A Threnode

¶ Vpon the Death of those two Honourable Gentlemen, Sir IOHN BVRROWES, late Lieute­nant of the English Infantrie in the Ile of Ree, and Sir WILLIAM HEYDON, Leiutenant of the Ordinance.

THe thousand Torch-bearers of Io [...]e,
Which mightily to his Bed him light,
Where Iuno entertaines his loue,
With merie glee and sweete delight;
Were scatter'd all about the skie,
That seemed of a Saphires die.
All Creatures were at silent rest;
Except those wights, whose musing hearts,
Some extreme passion did infest,
And they were playing then their parts.
The Thiefe was plodding on his way,
But softly; least the Dogges should bay.
True louers (whom the day diuorc'd
From sweete discourse) now met and kist:
The Witches on their wands were horst,
And Luna on their Hearbs downe pist:
Nor had the Cocke yet stretched his throte
With his all cheering early note.
But t'was the time, when Morpheus dull
From his two Portals, sendeth out
His dreames, that fill mens fancies full
With fond conceite, and fearefull doubt,
Then I vpon my Pillow laid,
With drearie thoughts was much dismaid.
A strange appearance my mind strooke;
Me thought I was in Forrest wide,
And neere vnto a Chrystall brooke,
Vpon whose greene bankes I desery'd
A goodly Lady much distrest,
(As by her wofull [...]light I ghest)
A Mantle greene shee seem'd to weare,
Which by a curious hand was wrought:
Townes, Riuers, Mountaines were seene there,
And what is in a Lan [...]chap sought:
And all the workmanship most fice,
A wauie border did confine.
Vpon her dolefull browes was set
A stately Crowne, that did appeare
Like to that towred Coronet,
Which Cybele was wont to weare.
The Roses from her cheekes were fled,
Her tresses were dish [...]ue [...]ed.
With teares her eyes beblubberd were,
Lamenting sate shee on the grass [...]:
And l'gan to approach her neere,
To find the cause of her sad passe;
A drearie spectacle then strooke
My throbbing neart, that for feare shooke.
For by her side there lay two wights,
Whose cheekes were mark'd with deaths pale brand,
Who seem'd t'haue beene right goodly Knights,
Though now they lay low on the Strand,
As if they by [...] fate;
Had beene brought to that wretched' state.
For one was gor'd with grisly wound,
From whence the bloud a fresh flow'd out,
Which cruddling on the gelid ground,
Did couer all the grasse about,
The Lady for him sore did weepe,
And with her teares his wound did steepe.
The other Knight all wanne and pale,
With water seem'd all to besmear'd:
The drifting drops full thicke did fall,
From his bright lockes, and m [...]nly beard,
As if that Neptune had him [...],
And cast vpon the shore againe.
Disdaine was fix'd vpon his brow,
As if he yeelding vp his breath,
Had scornd that fate which made him bow:
But t'was his lucke to drinke his death.
While I beheld this sight forlorne,
The Lady'gan afresh to mourne.
And with Pearle-dropping eyes vp-reard
Vnto the glistring skie; thus spake:
Yee awfull Gods that oft haue heard
The vowes, and pray'rs which I did make,
Vpon whose Altars I haue left,
The spoyles that from my foes were rest.
What great offence of mine hath mou'd
Your hearts to such impatientire,
To kill those Knights, whom I best lou'd,
Whose seruice I did most desire.
Oh fading hopes, oh false delights,
Oh ioy more swift then Summers nights.
(Burrowes) thy valour was a flowre,
Whom lightning dire at length did strike,
Though it had borne off many a showre.
(Heydon) thy worth was Aprill-like,
Which had it a faire May beheld,
Such flowers had shew'd, as neere did field.
Or like a sturdie Ship of Warre,
(Braue Burrowes) was thy manly might,
Which vessell had beene famous farre,
For faire successe in furious fight,
Whose sides at last a Canon gor'd,
And then the deepes her bulke deuour'd.
And to a Ship in all her russe,
New set a floate was Heydon like;
Whose the Tritons tooke in snuffe,
And vnder Water did her strike.
Thus doe the greatest goods slit fast;
Some soone, some late; but all at last.
Yee Sisters that in darknesse lie,
Remoued farre from mortall eyne,
Where yee that fatall distaffe plie,
From whence is drawne Mans vitall twine.
What various fates haue yee assign'd,
To these my Knights, so like in mind.
Sweete honours thirst my Burrowes call'd
To forraine lands, to seeke for fame;
Where he with courage, vnappall'd,
Great toyles, and dangers ouer-came.
There vanquish'd he base fortunes might
Griefe, Sicknesse, Age and all despite.
Himselfe in Ostend be engag'd,
Where Death with Funerals was weary'd.
Though Pestilence, and Pellets rag'd,
Yet he nor wounds nor sicknesse feared.
The noble heart more constant growes.
When great perill it selfe shewes.
In Frankendale he did oppose
The conquering troupes, of Tilly stout
Whom he repulst with bloudy blowes,
And longer might haue kept them out,
If it had beene his Soueraignes will
That he the Towne should haue kept still.
His latter Scenes he played so well,
So sweete was his Catastrophe:
That Fame shall neuer cease to tell
His worth vnto posteritie,
Who shall his name among these read,
That for their Countries cause are dead.
At length he fell: so fals at last
The Oke that many stormes hath stood:
From paine to Paradise h [...] past,
And wonne his blisse with losse of blood.
Then let his bones soft lodging haue;
And let sweete flowres spring on his graue.
But my deare Heydon I lament,
As doth the tender mother mourne
For her yong sonne, vntimely shent,
That was to some great Fortune borne:
The cruell Fates conspir'd his death,
When first he drew an Infants breath.
Oh, Froward Fate that giu'st good parts,
Yet dost enuie men should them shew.
So chance to many, goods im parts,
But grace to vse them, vnto few.
(Aye me) that Death the greatest ill,
Should greatest vertues alway kill.
Grimme Mars, and Mercurie did sit
As Lords, at thy Natiuitie.
Mars gaue the valour, Hermes wit;
But both an wofull destinie.
They at thy worth repin'd my Knight
And did cut short thy life for spite.
Euen as moyst Zephyre powers downe fast
His showres on the new-sprouted rose,
That it her blossomes soone doth cast,
And all her fragrant odour loose:
So Heydon in his prime was strooke;
Betimes his vigour him forlooke.
Accursed euer be that Ile
That beares the holy Bishops name,
Which did me of my Knights beguile:
Let warre and spoyle, nere leaue the same
Nor euer let the sorraine yoke
Be from her seruile shoulders broke.
Let gastly Ghosts frequent her plaines,
Let night hags there be heard to rore:
Let Syrens dire with drearie streames,
Make Saylors shunne that balefull shore.
Let thunder stricke their Vines amaine.
By thunder was my Burrowes slaine.
And let those deepes, that guiltie are
Of Heydons bloud, be turn'd to shelues,
That them t'approach no ships may dare,
For feare to cast away themselues.
O let ten thousand ills betide
Those places, where my worthies di'd.
(This said) a grieuous sigh shee drew,
As if her heart-strings would haue split;
And on the earth her-selfe shee threw;
That for to see her piteous fit,
The Dryads wept, the Satyrs lowr'd,
And water Nymphes their teares forth powr'd.
The Trees did sigh, the Hils did grone
The bubling Brooke did sobbe a maine,
And Echo made a pitious mone,
That I could not from teares refraine.
The Birds with her incomfort ioynd,
And sought in vaine to ease her mind.
The Nighting-gale, on wither'd brakes,
These drearie threnodes forth did powre:
Wealth, beautie, strength (quoth shee) Time takes;
And Death approacheth euery howre.
But Vertue endlesse life imparts.
Then liue for euer (noble hearts.)
The Swanne mou'd with her plaints drew neere,
And thus began to sing his last:
No setled state of things is here;
Our liues, our ioyes are but a blast.
But Sunnes that set faire, so shall rise:
Oh happie Death; and so he dies.
The Turtle true with heauie cheere,
Sob'd forth her mournefull Elegies
O Death (said shee) that slu'st my deare,
Now bo [...]st not of thy Victories:
Thy paines are ioyes, thy darts are cures
Thy wounds are life, that alway dures.
I had but heard her dittie out,
When that the Cocke whose Sants bell cleere
Should call mens hearts to thoughts deuout.
Made me from sleepe my eyes to reare,
Vpon my dreame I mused then;
And when day came, it downe did pen.
FINIS.

Vpon the death of Sir RALPHE SHELTON.

I Am what, passion will: a stone, or tree:
A mad Hercuba, or sad Niobe.
For who can see such ruines, and not feele
A marble chilnesse creepe from bead to heele:
Like sad Electra that could not abide
To see Troy Vrn'd; but her pale face did hide.
Or Phoebus-like that brooks not to behold
The Thyestaean dainties, but did fold
His head in Pitchie cloudes, so loathes my eye
To be spectator of this Tragedie;
Wherein, thou Shelton no meane person werst,
And did'st so to the life well act thy part
That we lament thy exit, and giue thee,
Sad sighes, instead of a glad plaudite.
Yet shall not griefe so preiudice thy worth,
But same shall sing alowd thy praises forth
To checke the pride of France; who in thy fate,
Lost three for one: it at so deare a rate
Thou sold'st; yet was is cheape to them (I sweare)
Out valuing more liues, then they bad there.
[Page]Thy life, and death were fatall both alike
To France: first in a Duell didst thou strike
French brauerie downe; and boldly trodst vpon
The dustie Plumes, of that proud Champion,
That durst thy valour tempt: with thine owne hands,
Thou paidst thy owne reuenge; which euer stands
Huge Columne-like, to counter-checke the pride
Of France, and shew how brauely Shelton dy'd.

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