The Porters speech.

THe walles of Thebes were raised by Musicke: by musick these are kept from falling. It was a pro­phesie since the first stone was layde, that these walles should shake, and the roofe totter, till the wisest, the fairest and most fortunate of all creatures, should by her first steppe make the foundation staid: and by the glaunce of her eyes make the Turret steddie. I haue beene here a Porter manie yeeres, many Ladies haue entred passing amiable, many verie wise, none so happie. These my fellow Porters thinking there could bee none such, fell on sleepe, and so incurde the seconde curse of the prophesie, which is, neuer againe to awake: Marke how they looke more like postes then Porters, reteining onlie their shapes, but depriued of their sences. I thought rather to cut off my eie liddes, then to winke till I saw the ende. And now it is: for the musick is at an end, this house immoueable, your vertue immortall. O miracle of time, Natures glorie, Fortunes Empresse, the worlds wonder! Soft, this is the Poets part, and not the Porters. I haue nothing to present but the crest of mine office, this keie: Enter, possesse all, to whom the [Page 3] heauens haue vouchsafed all. As for the owner of this house, mine honourable Lord, his tongue is the keie of his heart: and his heart the locke of his soule. There­fore what he speakes you may constantlie beleeue: which is, that in duetie and seruice to your Maiestie, he would be second to none: in praieng for your happinesse, equall to anie.

The Pilgrimes speech.

FAirest of all creatures vouchsaf to heare the prayer of a Pilgrime, which shall be short, and the petition [Page 5] which is but reasonable. God graunt the worlde maie ende with your life, and your life more happie then anie in the world: that is my praier. I haue trauelled manie Countries, and in all Countries desire antiquities. In this Iland (but a spanne in respect of the world) and in this Shire (but a finger in regard of your Realme) I haue heard great cause of wonder, some of complaint. Harde by, and so neere as your Maiestie shall almost passe by, I sawe on Oke, whose statelines nayled mine cies to the branches, and the ornamentes beguiled my thoughtes with astonishment. I thought it free, being in the fielde, but I found it not so. For at the verie entrie I mette I know not with what rough-hewed Ruffian, whose armes wer carued out of knotty box, for I could receue nothing of him but boxes, so hastie was he to strike, he had no ley­sure to speake. I thought there were more waies to the wood then one, and finding another passage, I found also a Ladie verie faire, but passing frowarde, whose words set mee in a greater heate then the blowes. I asked her name, she said it was Peace. I wondred that Peace could neuer holde her peace. I cannot perswade my selfe since that time, but that there is a waspes nest in mine eares. I returned discontent. But if it will please your Highnesse to view it, that rude Champion at your faire feete will laie downe his foule head: and at your becke that Ladie will make her mouth her tongues mue. Happelie your Maiestie shall finde some content: I more antiqui­ties.

The wilde mans speech at the tree.

MIghtie Princesse, whose happines is attended by the heauens, and whose gouernment is wonde­red at vpon the earth: vouchsafe to heare why this passage is kept, and this Oke honoured. The whole world is drawen in a mappe: the heauens in a Globe: and this Shire shrunke in a Tree: that what your Maie­stie hath oftē heard off with some comfort, you may now beholde with full content. This Oke, from whose bodie so many armes doe spread: and out of whose armes so many fingers spring: resembles in parte your strength & happinesse. Strength, in the number and the honour: happinesse, in the trueth and consent. All heartes of Oke, then which nothing surer: nothing sounder. All wouen in one roote, then which nothing more constant, nothing more naturall. The wall of this Shire is the sea, strong, but rampired with true hearts, inuincible: where euery priuate mans eie is a Beacon to discouer: e­uerie noble mans power a Bulwarke to defende. Here they are all differing somewhat in degrees, not in dutie: the greatnes of the branches, not the greenesse. Your ma­jesty they account the Oke, the tree of Iupiter, whose root [Page 7] is so deeplie fastened, that treacherie, though shee vnder­mine to the centre, cannot finde the windings, and whose toppe is so highlie reared, that enuie, though she shoote on copheigth, cannot reach her, vnder whose armes they haue both shade and shelter. Well not they that your enemies lightnings are but flashes, and their thunder which filles the whole world with a noise of conquest, shall end with a softe shower of Retreate. Be then as confident in your steppes, as Caesar was in his Fortune. His pro­ceedings but of conceit: yours of vertue. Abroad courage hath made you feared, at home honoured clemencie. Clemencie which the owner of this Groue hath tasted: in such sort, that his thoughts are become his hearts labe­rinth, surprized with ioie and loialtie. Ioy without mea­sure, loyaltie without end, liuing in no other ayer, then that which breathes your Maiesties safetie.

For himselfe, and all these honourable Lords, and Gentlemen, whose shieldes your Maiestie doeth here be­holde, I can say this, that as the veines are dispersed through all the bodie, yet when the heart feeleth any ex­treame passion, sende all their bloud to the heart for comfort: so they being in diuers places, when your Ma­iestie shall but stande in feare of any daunger, will bring their bodies, their purses, their soules, to your Highnesse, being their heart, their head, and their Soue­raigne. This passage is kept straight, and the Pilgrime I feare hath complained: but such a disguised worlde it is that one can scarce know a Pilgrime from a Priest, a [...]er from a Gentleman, nor a man from a woman [Page 8] Euerie one seeming to be that which they are not, onely do practise what they should not. The heauens guide you, your Maiestie gouernes vs: though our peace bee enuied, by you we hope it shall be eternall.

Elizabetha Deus nobis haec otia foecit.

The Anglers Speech.

NExt rowing in a Westerne barge well fare Ang­ling, I haue bin here this two houres and cannot catch an oyster. It may he for lacke of a bait, & that were hard in this nibling world, where euerie man laies bait for another. In the Citie merchants bait their tongues with a lie and an oath, and so make simple men swallow deceitfull wares: and fishing for commoditie is growen so farre, that men are become fishes, for Lande lords put such sweete baits on rackt rents, that as good it were to be a perch in a pikes belly, as a Tenant in theyr farmes. All our trade is growen to trecherie, for now fish are caught with medicins: which are as vnwholsom as loue procured by withchcraft vnfortunate. We Ang­lers make our lines of diuers colours, according to the kindes of waters: so doe men their loues, aiming at the complexion of the faces. Thus Marchandize, Loue, and Lordships sucke venom out of vertue. I think I shal [Page 10] fish all daie and catch a frog, the cause is neither in the line, the hooke, nor the bait, but some thing there is ouer beautifull which stayeth the verie Minow (of all fish the most eager) from biting. For this we Anglers obserue, that the shadow of a man turneth backe the fish. What will then the sight of a Goddesse? Tis best angling in a lowring daie, for here the Sunne so glisters, that the fish see my hooke through my bait. But soft here be the Net­ters, these be they that cannot content them with a dish of fish for their supper, but will draw a whole pond for the market.