CHVRCHYARDS Challenge.
LONDON Printed by Iohn Wolfe. 1593.
To the right honourable Sir Iohn VVolley Knight, Secretary for the Latin tung to the Queenes Maiestie, and one of her priuie Councell: Thomas Churchyard wisheth increase of honor, blessednes of life, and abundance of worldly felicitie, and heauenly happines.
THe long trauell and tracing out of life in this wearisome pilgrimage (right honorable) hauing brought me now almost to the ende of my iourney, makes me glad (with a restles desire) to be rid of the burthens of my minde and the labours of my body, the one neuer free from studie, and the other seldome voide of toyle, and yet both of them neither brought great benefite to the life, nor blessing to the soule: in which small rest and vnquietnes, many sorrowfull discourses in my dayes I haue written, and numbers of bookes I haue printed: and because they shall not be buried with me, I challenge them all as my children to abide behinde me in the worlde, to make them inheritors of such fame & dispraise as their father (which begat them on sweet inuention) heere enioyes or deserues: hoping they shall not be called bastards, nor none aliue will be so hardy as to call them his babes, that I haue bred in my bowels, brought forth and fostred vp so carefully at mine owne charges, and hazard of an enuious worlde. And now indeede for that diuers (of disdainfull disposition) doo or may hinder the good reporte [Page] of those labors which I thinke well bestowed among my freends, I haue set forth while I am liuing a great number of my works in this booke named my Challenge, that after my death shalbe witnesses they were mine owne dooings: not for any great matter in them, but for the iustnes of troth and true triall of all my honest exercises, and so to purchase credit and the more freends and fauourers to prop vp my poore reputation: I not only dedicate this booke (and all therein) to your honor, but haue made also in the same booke diuers dedications to sundry honorable and worshipfull personages, protesting that there is nothing heerein but came from mine owne deuice, which inuencions (spoken as becomes me) shal be in all honest sorte defended by pen or any way I may to the vttermost of my breath or abilitie, ioying much (with all gladnes of hart) that they are presented to so honourable a personage and one of such singuler learning, whose worth and value by a worthy and vertuous Princes is seene into, and throwly considered of, which gracious Queene hath alwaies made her princely choice in such an excellent and vnspeakable maner, as God himselfe should deuinely appoint and direct to our great wealth and his great glory: and in whose r [...]re commendation all the pen men of the world may write. Now good sir vnder your excellent fauour and countenance, I shielde my presumption and boldenes, that hath offred a booke of so many discourses, to the iudgement of such a multitude that quickly can discouer the weakenes of my labors: but hauing ventured so farre as to publishe them in print, I must now of necessitie commit them to the common opinion of the world. So in hope the best will fall out, I present you with my studies and take leaue of your honor, desiring of God what goodnes can be wished, to be alwaies at your commaundement.
To the worthiest sorte of People, that gently can reade, and iustly can iudge.
GOod Reader, if my presumption were so great that I thought my booke might passe without your fauourable iudgement, mine error were as much as my ouer-weening: and yet to vse perswasions in purchasing your good liking, I should passe the bounds of common reason, and fall into the danger of adulation: for your good wils are rather won with good matter then bare wordes, and say what I can to gaine your affection toward my worke, you will speake what seemeth best in your owne conceites. For among many thousands are many of deepe consideration, and some vndoubtedly of as shallow iudgement: so that the one or the other cannot nor will not be led and caried away with any deuice of my pen, though all the hye spirits and excellency of Poetry might drop out of the quill I writ withall: wherefore now I must as well abide the hazard of your censure, as I haue boldely vnfolded my selfe to the worlde: there is now no crauing of pardon, nor pleading for your furtherance to encrease my good fame: my works must abide waight, they are thrust into the ballance, and I of necessitie must content me with your allowance, and what price pleaseth you to set on my marchandise: but if they proue too light in the skales, I pray you helpe them with some graine of good skill, that they be not condemned as trifles, because they haue cost me great labour and study, and put me to no little charges. I freely offer them to you for three or foure causes, the one to keep the reputation of a writer, the second to pleasure my freendes with the reading of new inuentions, and thirdly to desire my foes to giue me true reporte of those workes I haue made, and last of all to affirme that euery thing in this my booke of Challenge is mine owne dooing, which iustlye no man can deny. [Page] Not boasting thereof as matter worthy memory, but claiming a better regarde then enuy would giue me, I stand to the praise or dispraise of all I haue done, maruelling much that in my life time any one would take from me the honest laudation I deserue. I striue no further in that point, but commit to God and good people the indifferency and iustnes of my cause, and the best is (which shall beare it selfe) the wise of the worlde and worthiest of knowledge and capacitie, are the only Iudges shall yeeld me my right: the rest are but hearers and lookers on, whose voices may make a great noise, but giues so vncertaine a sound, they can doo no great harme, because of nature and condition they neuer doo no great good. Now my pleading time is past, my booke must appeare in that bare fashion as I haue formed the matter, I hope it shall not walke so nakedly abroade, but shalbe able to abide the coldenes of ill will, and the extreame heate of hatefull mens disposition. God the giuer of goodnes, guide my verses so well that they neuer happen into their hands that loues me not, and make my prose and plainenes of speech be as welcome to the Reader, as it was well ment of the writer. So with double and treble blessing, Farwell.
My next booke shalbe the last booke of the Worthines of Wales.
And my last booke called my Vltimum Vale, shalbe (if it please God) twelue long tales for Christmas, dedicated to twelue honorable Lords.
Heere followes the seuerall matters contained in this booke.
- THe tragedie of the Earle of Morton.
- The tragedie of sir Simon Burley.
- A discours that a man is but his minde.
- A discourse of the true steps of manhood.
- A discourse of the honor of a Souldior.
- A discours of an olde Souldier and a yong.
- A discourse and commēdation of those that can make Golde.
- A discourse and rebuke to rebellious mindes.
- A discourse of hospitalitie and consuming of time and wealth in London.
- A discourse of misfortune and calamitie.
- A discourse of law and worthy Lawyers.
- A discourse of the only Phenix of the worlde.
- A praise of that Phenix and verses translated out of French.
- The tragedy of Shores wife much augmented.
- A discourse of the ioy good subiects haue when they see our Phenix abroad.
- The tragicall discourse of the haplesse mans life.
- The adue the writer made long agoe to the worlde.
- A discourse of a fantasticall Dreame.
- A tragicall discourse of a dolorous Gentlewoman.
- A tragicall discourse of a Lord and a Lady translated out of French.
I hope you look not that I should place euery Knight & Lady in their degree, for I must of necessitie follow my matter.
The bookes that I can call to memorie alreadie Printed: are these that followes.
- FIrst in King Edwards daies, a book named Dauie Dicars dreame, which one Camell wrote against, whome I openly confuted. Shores wise I penned at that season.
- Another booke in those daies called the Mirror of Man.
- In Queene Maries raigne, a book called a New-yeares gift to all England, which booke treated of rebellion.
- And many things in the booke of songs and Sonets, printed then, were of my making.
- Since that time till this day I wrote all these workes.
- The booke of Chips dedicated to sir Christopher Hatton, after Lord Chancellor.
- The booke called Chance, dedicated to sir Thomas Bromley L. Chancellor then.
- The booke called my Charge, to my L. of Surrye.
- The booke called my Change, in verse and proes, dedicated to all good mindes.
- The booke called my Choice, dedicated to the L. Chancellor sir Christopher Hatton.
- The book of the siege of Leeth and Edenbrough Castell.
- The booke of sir William Druries seruice, dedicated to sir Drue Drury.
- The booke called the golden Nut, dedicated to the Qu. Ma.
- The book of receiuing her highnes into Suffolk, & Norfolke.
- The booke before of her highnes receiuing into Bristow.
- The booke of the Earthquake, to the good Deane of Paules.
- The book of the troubles of Flanders, to sir Francis Walsing.
- The book called the scourge of rebels in Ireland, to my Lord Admirall.
- The booke called a rebuke to Rebellion, to the good olde Earle of Bedford.
- The book of a Sparke of freendship, to sir Walter Rawley.
- The book of Sorrows, to D. Wilson when he was Secretary.
- The booke of the winning of Macklin, to my Lord Norrice.
- [Page]The book called the Worthines of Wales, to the Qu. Ma.
- The book giuen her Maiestie at Bristow, where I made al the whole deuises.
- The deuises of warre and a play at Awsterley, her highnes being at sir Thomas Greshams.
- The Commedy before her Maiestie at Norwich in the fielde when she went to dinner to my Lady Gerning [...]ms.
- The whole deuises pastimes and plaies at Norwich, before her maiestie.
- The deuises and speeches that men and boyes shewed within many prograces.
- The book of King Henries Epitaph, and other princes and Lords, to Secretary Wolley.
- The book of my Deer adue, to M. Iohn Stannop.
- The book called a handfull of gladsome verses, to the Qu. M. at Wodstocke.
- The book called a pleasant co [...]ceite, a new yeeres gift, to the Queenes Maiestie.
- Aeneas tale to Dydo, largely and truely translated out of Virgill, which I once shewed the Qu. Ma. and had it againe.
- A book of the oath of a Iudge and the honor of Law, deliuered to a Stacioner, who sent it the L. cheefe Baron that last dyed.
- A book of a sumptuous shew in Shrouetide, by sir Walter Rawley, sir Robart Carey, M. Chidly, and M. Arthur Gorge, in which book was the whole seruice of my L. of Lester mencioned, that he and his traine did in Flaunders, and the gentlemen Pencioners proued to be a great peece of honor to the Court: all which book was in as good verse as euer I made: an honorable knight dwelling in the black Friers, can witnes the same, because I read it vnto him.
- A great peece of work translated out of the great learned French Poet Seignior Dubartas, which worke treated of a Lady and an Eagle, most diuinely written on by Dubartas, [Page] and giuen by me to a great Lord of this land, who saith it is lost.
- An infinite number of other Songes and Sonets, giuen where they cannot be recouered, nor purchase any fauour when they are craued.
A new kinde of a Sonnet.
THE EARLE OF MVRTONS Tragedie, once Regent of Scotland, and alwaies of great birth, great wisedome, great wealth, and verie great power and credite: yet Fortune enuying his estate and noblenes, brought him to lose his head on a Skaffold in Edenbrough the second of Iune. 1581.
SIR SIMON BVRLEIS TRAGEDIE, who liued in the xi. yeare of Richarde the seconde. Looke Frozard the last part Fol. 108.
THE MAN IS BVT his Minde.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPfull my singular good friend, Sir Iohn Skidmoer, one of the Liefetenants of Haruordshire.
I Am not forgetfull good Sir Iohn of a promise made touching The man is but his minde: Which worke now I present you, though not so well penned as the matter requireth, yet as wel ment as any peece of worke in this Booke, written as well to keepe promise, as to show the circumstance of the mistery that belongeth to euery mans minde, and to hope that all I write thereof shall be as well taken as a dutifull writer can meane. I haue plainely set downe mine opinion in that behalf, doubting not but some one man or other shall see a peece of his owne minde, in this my presumption of the same. So wishing your good and vertuous minde augmented in grace, and your selfe encreased in worship and contentation of mind, I betake you to God and fall to my purposed discourse.
[Page 46] AS I was reading in the delightfull discourses of Ieronimus Cardanus his comforts, among many pleasant passages and speciall sentences▪ I founde that he said A man was but his mind either in the value of vertue or vanity of vice. So waying the worth of that conclusion, & knowing that Manhood or Cowardize consistes in the selfe same opinion of the minde, I considered that common quarrels and priuate reuengement of Iniuries receiued, proceeded in a manner from this spring and flowing Fountaine, that euer is fedde and nourished with som setled conceite or other. For the minde is so noble, watchfull, and worthy, that it is neuer vnoccupied whilest the man is awaken, nor taketh any great rest when the body is a sleepe, (as some dreames and visions manifesteth plaine.) For euen as a cunning Carpēter or Smith, is hammering and heawing some péece of wood or iron, to bring the same to such shape and perfection, as the artificer would haue it: So the minde (the harber of all secretes and mouer of all good and bad motions) can at no season be idle or wax weary of deuises. The Imaginations thereof are so many, and the innumerable conceites therein are so mighty, the fire is of such vehement heat and operation, that it must néedes burne or consume any thing that long remaines in it, so the minde is of such force and power, that it leadeth the man any way it listeth, and shapes al the sences and vitall spirites in what forme or fashion it pleaseth. For the longer the fancies of the head (by rouling to and froe are tired) and at length reposeth themselues in the constantnes of the minde, the more is the mans reason subiect to the mindes resolution, and the lesse strength the iudgement hath when it féeles the forces of the body captiuated and compeld to obay the greatnes of the minde. Though learning, education, and good instructions, be a meane and restraint, that a peruerse mind shall not draw the whole body to destruction, yet the minde being [Page 47] bent to some dangerous determination, hath ouercome all the good causes rehearsed, and brought both the body, reputation, and life, into a shamefull disorder, and made a cruell confusion not onely of the man, but likewise brought a licentious liberty to the minde, experience of proud practises hath proued this argument no fable, but now to talke truely and probably of the minde, what can be named or thought on, (if they be things to be executed) but the minde dare attempt and the man may goe about, it dare aduenture the hazarde of the soule, the losse of life and goods, and the cracking of estimation and credit, if any purposed mischiefe hale the minde forewarde to some odious enterprises, this showes but a weakenes of Iudgement, naughtines of nature, and a most wicked and wilfull disposition of a desperate conceite, diuelishly drawen and enclined and carelesly cō mitting it selfe to euery kinde of practises and dangerous determination.
But now to touch the noblenes of an inuincible minde, that neither Fortune can conquer, power may commaund, nor worldly pompe nor wealth can winne. The true discourse of this minde, craues a writer of a higher knowledge, for the vnspeakeable spirite that keepes life, and breatheth continuall constancy in the brest where this minde makes his mansion house, is to be explained and set forth by the profoundest pen man of the worlde, that can lay open like an Anotomy the hidden and secrete partes of the body, especially the diuine nature (closed vp in flesh and bloud) and secrecy belonging to the vertue of this manly and valiaunt minde. Some men there are (and though they boast not much the nūber may be great) that with a strong heart can suffer afflictions, beare burthens, abide disgraces, and in their most torments seeme careles of all the crossings & counterchecks is offered them, yet they are armed within to withstand all outward assaults as it were a fortresse manned with souldiers and munition, throughly to defend it selfe against the power of Princes, & practises of warlike people, yea as they in peace can vse this approued patience, so in the hottest broiles of [Page 48] the warre the hope to ouercome the cruelty of their enemies, doth redouble their courages, and so with a resolute minde, the Cannon they approch, the combate they present, and the present daunger is presently forgotten, a present matter of great momēt to be in the presence and presented before the vniuersall people placed vnder the cope of the heauens. But yet I can not leaue out the mind they haue of honour in greatest extremities, for minding the preseruation of Prince and countrey, they clap on such a minde as Mucius Sceuola did, that burned his hande in the [...]ire, for missing the killing of Porcena. They care not in like sort for imprisonment, penury, hunger, torting, racking, but can suffer all manner of misery, as want of meat, lacke of liberty, and open aire, and lie on the hard earth or bare strawe, to kéepe their enemies out of the Fort or hould committed to their charge, yea and in respect of the loue they loyally beare to their Countrey, they suffer many a mortall wound, and in the end offer themselues to the death, manifestly to showe, that a man is but his minde, and the minde is it that makes the man, both famous & immortall. Now to the contrary come to the nature and condition of a Coward, whose minde is neuer to do any noble act, for he that can beare the infamy and blot of that name, to be called a Coward, liues carelesse of all other villanies, and no reproche, slaunder, shamefull report, fowle fact, or what filthines can be rehearsed▪ may make him blushe, his miserable minde is so monstrous, that all soiles, kingdomes, and countries are alike for him to liue in, and as a countrey cur delightes to gnaw a bone on a midding, so he is fed fatte (among wretches of the world) with folly, beastlines, lewd behauiour, and a number of naughty conditions, neither fit to be followed, nor néedefull to be written of. The studient that mindes nothing so much as learning, takes such a pleasure and felicity in hearing and reading new deuises and auncient authors, that his Bookes are onely his companions, and solitary places, the swéete soiles of his repaire, and he holdeth time so precious an [...] deere, that he spends in Idlenes no one howre of the day, and [Page 49] hath such glory in gaining of knowledge, shal he makes no account of any other Treasure, (knowing that he that hath vertue is next vnto God) nor delighteth in any society or company, but such as are learned, wise, graue and honest, and when long labour and study hath gathered the swéete Sap of Iudgement (as the Bée hath sucked Hony from the flowres) he writeth new volumes, and setteth out such workes and pamphlets, as may merite commendation, and purchase credite and benefite, and be accepted and embraced among all posterities, that mind hath a naturall disposition in all diuine graces, and that mind [...] is as a day watch to the body▪ and stands as a strong Guard to the Soule and euerlasting renown.
The ignoraunt minde that hates education, and despiseth knowledge, is an enemy to himselfe and all common wealthes, most currish and rude of condition, barbarous and sauage, as an vn [...]amed beast, he swels and powts, like a Tode to heare the praise of a good man, and mindes nor loues nothing but blockishnesse, ribawdry, and corrupt manners, and hath so naughty an inclination, and is subiect to so many defectes and deformities, that this naught and lewde minde is not necessary to bee knowen among men, nor made mention of where noble minds are estéemed.
Now in generall, let euery particular man here somewhat of himselfe. There are some kinde of men, made of so fine a moulde, whose mindes may not suffer them to here, beholde, touch, or come neare any lothsome or vncleane thing, such mindes disdaines to offend the sight, (which is a cleare candle of life) with vnseemely shoes, and will not haue the Soule defiled with conceiuing of filt [...]y matters▪ that moues a general misliking in the whole Iudgement, and euery part of the body and minde to abhorre the vnderstanding of any foule and infectious thing, either ministred by talke, or vttered by vew in open assembly.
Another sort of base minded fellowes haue their onely ioy [...] in fruitlesse babble, foolish fancies and offensiue wordes, that [Page 50] thunders in the aire and corrupts good maners, that fils a house full of clamors and bruite, and makes a fewe Idiots laugh, and many wise men lowre, but these haerbraine tratlers and fantasticall minded mates striuing to haue all the talke themselues, (and glorying to here their owne voice) do sodainly become so audacious and bolde, that they are not onely a trouble to the whole company, but likewise a disquietnes to themselues, as apparauntlye falleth out, for when such vaine glorious minded marchaunts are knowen and perceiued, they are glad that first can be rid of their fellowship and society.
A graue and modest minded man looks into a statelier kind of life, and skornes to open his mouth but in causes of credite, and matter of great moment▪ and then the wel couched spéeches (and swéete spised sentences) comes flowing from his tongue, as the faire water spouteth from the fountain, a man of that aduisednes carries an easy hand ouer the rash multitude, and gathers to his minde a greater knowledge of the course of this world, and euen as the persing songs and musicall harmony of the Nightingale reioyseth the hearts of the hearers, so the sweete tempred talke of a wise Orator, drawes the eares of the audience after him, and leades them in a string that haue anye motion and minde of vertue, or can consider the value & worth of such a well minded man.
The merry and pleasant companion in his kinde, beares another disposition, for his minde is so delightfull, that his tonge is like a Taber and a Pipe, prettily playing and gibing on euery mans mannors, and he that carries this minde is continually tuning him selfe (as a Minstrell were tempring and wresting of his Instrument) to pleasure with sports the dumpishe people, that sits listning to heare some straunge pastime, but in this merry minde are many humors that are fedde with some sharpe and bitter conceits, which often turns to ouer bol [...] boording, and yet a well ordered minde can smoothly cast a clowde cunningly on the matter, to auoide all suspition, and to bringe the world in beliefe, a merry fellow for the solasing of his own [Page 51] minde, hath free scope and liberty to ride by his neighbours, and yet keepe euery one cleane from dashing, and he himselfe to be taken as a man, whose mind meanes alwaies to make all the company merry.
A greedy minded groaper of this world, lookes solemnly on all thinges he goes about, and in a surly sort and fashion, stands bending the browes, and frowning at a number of accidents he beholdes, his talke is of bargaines, purchases, buildings, and prises of each thing that commeth to the market, and mindeth so much his priuate gaine and profite, that he forgets both common wealth and countrey, neuer merry but when his money and bags be vnder his Elbow, and alwaies sad when hee must depart with any great sum [...]e and payment, though double benefite proceede from the same, a minde ready to doe wrong, and a body neuer apte to doe seruice in warres, nor liue quietly without brabble in peace.
The vnthrift, or more properly called a player at al manner of games sets his minde so earnestly thereon, that he will los [...] meat, sleepe and rest, to winne somewat by gaming, many times practising to packe the Cards, and cogge the Dice, sodenly moued for a little losse to fall into a great fury, a minde that couets al, and makes no conscience if it be at play to beguile his companion, yet many of them haue such minde to be called fair players, that they are as carelesse what they lose, as they are desirous to gaine, but if the losse be great, full many a raw Pigeon lies wambling in their stomackes after their first sleepe, and yet waking, they minde nothing more then a reuenge, eyther to take a further foile, or giue a greater blowe, and of all the mindes that men are subiect to (before mentioned) there is no minde more to be marked then this in any man, for euen as his losse or gaine is, so are his lookes and countenaunce, and so are his outwarde showes of gladnesse, and his inwarde conceites of sorrowe.
The Uenerian, whose minde mastereth his body, and subdues all the good parts of the same, his fancies and imaginations [Page 52] flies swifter then the Swallow, and seldome or neuer satisfied with no one conquest or other, goeth drawing like a bloud-hound after a stricken Deere, and taking sent of some sute and finding perssy followes with open mouth, secret traps and chargeable expenses, till minde or body, or both be a weary, and credite be brought in question, or cracked so sore, that good name is past recouery. Then desperately he dare enter into any quarrell of a combate, and put in hazarde and daunger life and goods, and he that puts on this minde, dwels not onely in a great ouer weyning of himselfe, but commonly condemnes all others that are not of the like nature and condition.
The Flatterer that frames his minde to all manner of dissimulation, can play the Cameleon, to dazell the ei [...]s and vnderstanding of the wise, and abusing the best sort of people, the base and meanest of degree, are brought quickly to beleeue that subtilty is simplenesse, and great suerty remaines in muffled manners, the Flatterer finding his falshood fauoured, so besturres himselfe like a Wolfe among sheepe, and finely feedes on the fattest flocke, and the wily Foxe carries no more crafte in his head, then the fine flatterer beares in his double and deceiptfull minde.
The theefe that sets his mind wholy on robb [...]ry, spoyle, and ransacking of the rich, or whosoeuer hee may wrong, gropes out a wealthy mans budget, as a Ratt smells out a rosted peece of cheese, and hauing a wretched minde to liue on such cheats that are gotten by such chaunce, hee chuseth no other trade to trie what his villanous mind will bring him to, or what may happen on a resolute roy [...]ing, which comes to no greater regarde but the reward of a gallows, the ill opinion of good men, and the open paltring exercises of a bad mind.
The Shifter that shuffles vp a borrowing life makes a purchase of picking his Creditors purses, his minde is euer to bee néedy because hee minds neuer to pay peece of his det, and still cryes out of Fortune, when his owne folly plagues him, claiming recompence for seruice where no desart (nor ablenes to [Page 53] doe good turne) may pleade in his behalfe, yet by braggs and boastes hee makes a show to haue done manie wonders, hauing no great courage in warres nor good qualitie in peace, but as a gracelesse Grome, glad to shifte and shéeld his féeble abillitie vnder the title of a Souldier, maruelous is that meaning and mischéeuous is that minde that liues and dies both in want of wealth, wit and all manly reputation, a beggerie base minde scarce woorthy the bearing about or harbor in any honest body.
The Enuious minde hides his malice, as smothring smoke lies lurking in wet stubble or strawe, and when his furie bursteth abroade in flames some whole Famely or houshould is burnt or blemished bee sclaunderous brute, and this stinging & serpenting Snake, being long nourished in the wicked & warme bosome of a hatefull man, bespreads his venome throughout all the vitall parts of the bodie, so that no member nor lyneamīt thereof serues to expresse any goodnesse, and the tongue is alwaies clapping and caueling at euery matter spoken off or ministred only to keepe the cankred mind accustomed in maddnes and malice.
The Princely and noble mind where bounty (the locke and key of loue) is as busie as a Bee in a hiue that brings forth hony for the benefite of others, and the bountifull minde thinketh it selfe dishonored, if it receaue any seruice, good turne, frée gifte or good will, and the same returne not againe with ten times treble fold thankes and reward. For this princelie minde is euer imagining how it may get friendes and make enemies reform themselues from malice, yea furthermore this minde is so honorable, liberall, and desirous to win the fauor of good people, that it studies where it may bestow some acceptable gifte, and fastning the same on a gratefull person, this mind remaynes in such [...]ollitie and gladnes as it had wonne a whole world, and setteth more store by a Friend gotten in this manner, than of a hundred enemies ouercome by perforce.
The sparing and niggardly mind that spies out aduauntage of gathering and whording vp riches, spends manie wordes in [Page 54] faire promises (whiles hée cunningly hold [...] his owne) meaning small performaunce of many great offers, and yet in a kinde of vaine glory hee intertaines both the time and the people with trifels that makes a great shew of a franke and free hart, when the minde is miserably bent to saue and gather together ill gotten goodes to laie vp in coffer and corners for a prodigall son, or a ryotous heyre, whose mind is as much set on spoyling that hee found as the father was enclyned to spare that hee got, but the nigards minde hath such quenchles thirst to drinke vp the drosse and dong of this earth, that no kinde of good Fortune, wordly wealth, or aboundance can moderate and satisfie his couetous lust that Lucar hath set on fire, in the flaming dungeon and furnace of his nigardly minde.
The prodigall mind that spends without respect, and giues without regard, as pu [...]t vp in such a pride of it selfe, that it waxeth imperious, lordly, and loftie in a conceiued conceit of laciuious charges, bestowed on the fawners and flatterers of our dayes, whose creeping and currying of fauor, makes our young maister beleeue there is no ende of his spending, and that the more hee flings and casts away, the more good fellows will follow him and the lesse his estimation and riches shall waste & diminish. For in giuing either goodes and landes to the dayly féeders of his prodigall humor, hée thinkes he receiues an euerlasting renowne, fame, and credit, among the lustie crue of good companions, and his mind carries him so farre into the altituds that he hopes for vnknowne happs and trusts that mountains of Gold, & the conquest of the verie Indians it selfe is alotted to bée his portion, and whosoeuer restraines him from anye peece of his purpose, enkindleth his minde rather to make a soone dispach of all that hee hath, than to bee long in consuming the mucke and drosse of this world, which a prodigall mind wil neither bee taught how to vse, nor how to consider well off but to his owne liking.
The rebellious minde that séekes but blood, sedition, change of state and gouernement, makes a man runne gadding like a [Page 55] Gosling to listen after news, and alteration of Religion, as nothing could please him but forrayne follies, and strange tyrranie, murmuring, and finding faulte with Countries quietnesse, and desirous of troublesome seruitude, or at least willing to see some sodaine sturre, and strange accidents. This mischieuous and male-contented mind, is swift to sow discord and shed innocent blood, and slow to saue his owne credit & Countrey, ready and apt to forget God, and most vnwilling to forgiue any iniurie, a beginner of all brable and contention, and a mayntayner of all execrable acts and enterprises. Now passing ouer the rusticall rable of Rogues, Uacabounds, Ruffians, Roysters, and rancke Rebels, (whose mischieuous minds surmounts all the rest in villanie, filthynes, reueling, rudenes, trecherie, and treasons, the fruites whereof are but beggery, banishment, and wretchednesse, that brings the maislers of that misrule to Tiborne, & a shamefull end,) I come to the malicious mindes of our Forrein enemies (many in number) that are so drowned in a deadly desire of hatred, wilfulnes, obstinacie, papistrie, and old worm-eaten Religion, that they cannot see nor well vnderstand what they goe about. There minds carries them headlong into many hellish & damnable deuises, making account of that which neuer shall be there own I hope, and making their boast of conquest, victorie, & triumph, before they dare fight for it, or attempt manly to trie, who shall finde Fortune most fauourable, & what partie hath God & the right of their side. And further to bee marueled at (a matter most mōstruous in iudgement) they were come into our C [...]astes in ships of great burthen, fraught & filled with great riches, munition, and men, hauing in the same shippes to countenaunce their quarrell numbers of Noble houses, Friers, Priests, English Traytors, Spanish Women, and such like people, as were come to possesse a Country & kingdom that easily should bee gotten, which kingdome is so noblie peopled and furnished that I doubt not but the sight and bare vew of this stoute nation shall make the Spaniards abashed, and yet behold (to proue [Page 56] A man is but his mind) our Enemies haue such minds to doe wrong, and haue such hope that they are appoynted to bée the scourge of God, that they saie openly they haue commission to kill man, woman and child, and to saue none aboue the age of seauen yeare old, loe heere is a goodly mind, a goodly commission, and a goodly sorte of Fooles, that thinks so populous a Countrey as this will be so soone supplanted, a wise companie of wild Geese, that with a little gagling and thrusting out the necke, beleeus to bring to passe so great a matter, you neuer heard of more madder minded men than these are, that came to sit downe in other mens houses, before they knew the good will of their Hosts, and bow déerely they were like to pay for the purchase, ere they shold make their entry, or set their féet on any péece of this Land, and by my troth they goe about a pretty Bargaine to offer the sheeding of so much blood, and especially do bring hither so paltring a Commission, so voide of Christianitie, and shall cost so manie a broken head, before any iott or parcell of the same commaundement be put in execution.
Now heere is to bee spoken and treated of good and godly mindes that peaceably shall possesse their soules in patience, & these patient mindes, are those that sees other men preferd (as the affection of some will haue it so) and beholdes themselues abiects, that neither want, vertue, nor valiance, yea they find few good turnes and suffer many iniuries boastes little of their seruice, and are greatly to be praysed, being men of good years, and experience, and yet of bad Fortune and ability, fauoured of some that can doe but little for them, yet holpen or aided of no one body that haue power to aduaunce them, the men of this minde makes much of a little and seldome comes to any greate portion, and so because mine owne desteny is not the best, and being loath to put on a worse minde then now last I haue spoken of, I knit vp all this discourse in these fewe wordes, and thus I bid you farewell. Hoping that the mindes of men, (though they are seuerall in disposition) will now draw all in one yoke to hold out the enemies of our Countrey, and to stand [Page 57] together against all forraine inuasions, and forget all kinde of quarrelling among our selues, that often times hath bred in manie kingdomes ciuile warres and sorrowfull dissentions. The plagues and plaine examples therof being well waighed, will (I doubt not) make our noble Nation be not only mindful of their libertie and honor, but in like manner make vs all of one good mind, resolution, courage, and manhood.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPfull si [...] Edward Dimmocke Knight, & Champion by byrth to the Queenes Maiestie.
I would haue searched the bottome of my studies and chiefest of my labors (good Sir Edward Dimmocke) if my leasure had serued, to haue foūd out some peece of worke worthy of your reading, but doubting that verse delightes you not, & Tragicall discourses breeds but a heauie conceit in a pleasant disposition, I thought it more fitter to treat of a Marshiall cause (wherein great honor consists) that may moue many considerations in a noble minde, and so not only stir vp vertue but also beat downe all occasions that hinders the quiet & sweet societie of mē, not meaning that I see any motiō, cause, or action in this age, that may procure [Page 58] my pen to go beyond the compas of my reach in reforming the same: but to shew there is no greater blessednes on earth then freindly felowship and amitie among men, and all the disturbers thereof are rather instrumēts of dissention, than mayntainers of good will. And for that in your long trauells abroad (where variaunce is moderated with wisdome) manie quarrells you haue seene or heard off, I haue written a little peece of the nature of a quarrell compounded on many accidents, not teaching anye man a newe course & peaceable order to his life, but to nourish gentlenes & kindlie loue among all our noble natiō. So trusting no matter of mislike shal passe my Pen, I present you with this little peece of paper that follows, wishing you the good fame and honor your own hart can desire.
A Discourse of true Manhoode.
AMid the wickednes of a naughtie world quarells, hatred, and headstrong people, a bridled mind knowes not what pace to hotde, nor steppes to tread, and where madnesse shews furie, & world mayntaynes follye, wise 'al [...]mon (were hee heere) could not reforme the defect of this wilful age, which neither regards God, good Gouernours, nor naturall loue or order.
And where libertie in mans wilfulnes is proclaymed good rule and lawe is not known, and rud rashnes runs so farre beyond reason, that euery sencible creature doth wonder at, and stands astonied at the stubberne wickednes of mans vnstayed [Page 59] mind, which growes so blood thirstie and eager after life, that it seeketh nothing but death and destruction, in a manner of his owne proper brother, which was horrible in Cain, and may bee odious in all kind of Christians. Among beasts (that wants reason) remaynes no such crueltie. For now a dayes men may not meete without snarring, lostie lookes, bitter wordes, haughty fashions, and froward behauioure, on which stoutnes of stomacke, malice is kindled, contention is breed, and quarrells are set abroach. The accustomed curtesie, sweete conuersation, freindle gentlenes, humane manners, and ciuile humblnes in our common societie, is almost forgotten, brought in contempt, and put out of exercise (if Noble Parsonages shew it not) and in place of the commendable vertues are corrupt conditions and newfangled vices closely crept, to the great disquietnes of many, and commoditie of no one person. And now briefly to come to ye cause of this my bold argumēt, my short worke shall only touch ye terrible brawels, that lately (on the shew of manhood) are sprong vp among vs, & nourished to long in the stoute courages of men. A matter more meeter to bee lamented than mayntayned, and a new deuised wilfulnesse that our old Fathers taught vs not, nor scarsely was known, till our youth beganne to trauell straunge Countreys, and so brought home strange manners. It must be graunted and necessarie to bee allowed that weapons shall be worne (alwaies of equall length) and vsed in causes of defence. And further for slaunders, naughtie reports in absence, and present spitfull speaches, men ought for the mayntenance of good name, somtimes vse an lawfull manner of correction (this spoken not of the scripture) for the sharpe sworde makes a blunt blockhead beware how hee vseth his tongue, and if bold bablers were not snibbed for their sawsines, this world would bee full of talkatiue merchants, and no man would care what he spoke, if wordes should not be wisely set to sale, and in the end of an ill market be dearly bought. For it is not fit that euery man should goe to Law (about a trifle) nor necessarie blood should be [Page 60] shed, whatsoeuer in manhoods behalf I haue spokē: wel: to come to my purposed matter. In the old time the sight of England was daungerous but not deadly, couragious not cruell, valiant but not villanous, and most nobly vsed oftimes without anye great harme, in which season men were as great Conquerors as they be now (let Fraunce and Scotland witnes) as loath to offend as men be at this presens, when rapier fight is more desperate And generally then were as good men, as valiant and venturous, as now can bee found, and yet they stoode not vppon such tearmes, and quarrels as men doe now adayes, a thousand iniuries could then bee forgiuen, if they had eased their hearts a little at the sharpe weapon, now life is sought in England for an Italian lie, and nothing but blood and death can pacifie mens furies, men are become such Cockes of the game, they must fight in a sharppe, scrat out each others eyes, and thirst so much for blood, that nothing can mitigate their wrath till one bee out of the world, and the other bée fled God knowes whither. A prettie quarrell that compells men to bée fugitiues, for playing of beastly parts and bringeth such repentaunce as breedeth both beggerie and extremitie of Fortune, and namely when friends shall forsake you, and weeping can not helpe. For whilst law persecuteth the offender, the world is like a Laborinth, & endles is the labor and trouble of that bodie that thinks euery man follows him.
In the olde world when swords of one length and heartes of equal courage did meet, some in differencie debated the matter, and fewe were put to foile, and many were worthely esteemed for their value. And now when the rapier and dagger dispatcheth a man quickly, neither he liues to heare his owne fame, nor no man liuing can let fall a good word of the quarrell, begun of such trifles, maintaind with such terror, and ended with such madnes, not so manly as miserable nor so much praised among the fool hardy, as condemned in the consideration of the wise. And so to come to the right order of manhood, courage, valiancy, and stoutnes of heart, it lieth more in the Iudgement [Page 61] then in the iarring, in the fortitude then in the forwardnes, and restes more in the modesty then in the malice. For anger of it selfe is but a sencelesse monster, an vnreasonable rage, a furious franzie, a distemperate imperfection, a priuy passion of choller, and an open enemy of life. The discouerer of the frailty and naughty nature of man, and the discredite of as many as cannot maister that outragious disease of the minde.
Then how should the fury of mallice bring forth any other fruict, but such a pestiferous fire, as shall consume the beginners of hatred, and the last reuengers of wretched wroth.
For reuenge is like a winde ball the more it is stricken (and remembred with force of hand) the higher it mountes, & makes the more rebound, so that endlesse becomes a quarrell, so long as the exercise of mallice is had in vre, and men with euill disposition goe about to store vp mischiefe.
Now is to be decided euery degrée and manner of a quarrel, and to shew how and in what sort an vniust quarrell may bee offered, and a iust quarrel may be taken, both by law of armes and nature, and by a vsuall custome and manner among men, prouing by antiquities and art military, the matter purposed to treat vppon so that with patience you here out that may bée spoken.
As it is vnfit for a Gentleman (that stands on reputation) to play the ruffian and roister, so it is most vncomely for him to stoupe so lowe, as any way to abase his good calling, with the bad conditions of a rude and rusticall fellowe, by which prerogatiue the match is vnmeete, the quarrell may be refused, the strife hath no equality, nor no honesty is gotten in brawling with inferiors or fighting with men of so small temperancy and credit, but because most stoutnes and courage (with hazard of life is betweene Gentlemen) and trifles not taken vp growe to great busines, their quarrels are most requisite to be spoken of, redressed, corrected, and brought to better order.
First yée shall finde among Souldiers, (that are of greate mindes) a kinde of stately consideration in all quarrels they [Page 62] take in hand. They taking vppon them in the art military (which well becomes their calling) to maintaine honour, defend their countrey and credite, and to fight in no quarrell but Princes right and their owne honest causes, haue set downe by certaine cerimonies, what wordes may touch them, what manner of men they may deale withall, what occasions may force a combate, what scope & liberty pertaines to a iust quarrell, and what restraines a manly minde from doing iniury to others or harming himselfe.
On which resolution the Souldier sets vp his rest, and commonly hazards the winning or loosing, of as great thing as life may be worth, not with presumption procured to this danger, but with estimation of his honor haled forewarde (by daunger of enemy) to leaue good example to those that comes after him.
But beholde how this aduenture happeneth, regard the circumstance of this hazard, way well what difficulty is aboute the matter, and marke the chiefe points (and groundes of aduantage) that breedeth busines, and bringeth forth a combate.
Then must be noted, a simple Souldier (or mercenary man) may not challenge a Captaine, a meane Captaine or Centurion may not challenge a Corronell, a Corronell (though leader of a regiment) may not challenge a Lord Marshall of the Field, a Lord Marshall (hauing charge of life and death) may not challenge the Lord Lieutenant of the Army. A [...]d all these not onely in time of seruice (for auoiding of mutiny) but at all seasons, are bound and ought to keepe themselues from brawling, (yea though any one be neerely touched) and seeking the combat, except a lie hath passed, a slander is receiued, a blow be giuen, a mans name and credite be foiled, and a quarrell be sought so narrowly that no man can auoide. And yet all these degrees (as their office and honour is) one after another, may without reproche refuse in euery place, the daungering of their liues by priuate quarrell, & not meeting one another by chance (whereon may busines growe) looke what so euer be passed, [Page 63] (villany excepted) There is no kinde of preiudice to any partie, but mallice may surcease, and society may reuiue friendship▪ and quietnes should of all hands be sought.
Now of matter ministred in despight, spoken to strike dead good name vttered for offence and brauery, let fall to disgrace any person, and maintained with threatnings (daring and other open iniu [...]ies a number) the case of quietnes is altered, and surely no nature can so easely disgest those extremities, but shall finde occasion of dislike, and a great motion of quarrell.
Then must be considered, the cause of those spéeches, the persons credite that spake it, & in what presence and place the iniury was offered, for some places are of such honour, that no dishonestye may bee suffered in, and some person that speakes iniuries in base company (out of honourable presence) the speakers meane calling aunsweres himselfe, for wise men ought to make no more account of a badde fellowes babble, then of the barking of an olde dog, whose teeth are gone and can not bite. An all the common kinde of iniuries are but as men do imagine them, as scoulding of a co [...]queane, railing of a ruffian, taunting of a tosseblade, frumping of fine fellowes, and the brags and threatning of a varlette, all these shamelesse rabble and sencelesse sort of shadowes, are of so small substaunce and credite, that their voices makes but a noise in the aire, like a thunder cracke, that neither brings raine, nor argues any constant winde and weather.
There is besides these ordinary causes, (and crooked conditions of people) a number of naughty natures, that neuer will be quiet in countenaunce nor wordes, but either with skrowling like conquerors, or skorning like vices on a stage, they striue with counterfaite courage to ouercome Lions, and to be more terrible then Tigres, snuffing and puffing as all the worlde were too little to containe their great lookes, and disdainefull monstrous manners.
And their tongues are so talkatiue (and filled with follies) that none may speake but themselues, on whose prowde presumptions [Page 64] are many mad disputes wilfully begon and moste wickedly ended. To contend with those glorious Images, is as a man shoulde sound a Trumpet at the roaring of euery bul.
Thus with extraordinary manners, new fangled fancies, olde stubburne nature, and fresh fine cunning, that wisedome condemneth, a good minde may be ouerreached, and a quiet man may be brought in some quarrelous brabble, for the sight and sufferaunce of these shadowes, (whose substance is all in boasting) and the society or contention with such counter [...]aite conquerors, is an open enemy to all the good dispositions of men, and a priuy worker of disquietnes to those that beholdes and heares any peece or iote of those vices before rehearsed, for nothing bréedes more mislike, or offendeth so much euery company, as the continuall brags and audacious manners of the vnbrideled multitude, who are neuer free from quarrels, voide of villany, nor without naughty brabbles a number.
Come now to generall occasions in Court, Countrey towne and so foorth, but principally of Court we ought to haue greatest regard, where not only the Prince hold residens with a continuall maiestie, but likewise by absolute power commaunds obedience, & restraynes Courtiars many wayes from offering of iniuries. For plainely to speake, in Chamber of presence or any place neere (or about a Princes pallace) mens tongues are tyed either to kéepe silence, or ciuilly with reuerence to vse comly wordes, méete for such a place, and voyde of villanye or vicious intents, chiefely of quarrels that may moue mischiefe, and stirre vp disquietnes among the gentle Bees assembled together in a Hiue for the honoring of their king, and publique profite of their estate. The Court is no Cocke-pit to croe in, no shraep for cocking, no seat to be saucy in, no place of contention, nor no soile for brawlers and braggers, that haue currish conditions, and knowes not their duety, but rather a place of royall dignity, princely entertainements, curteous behauiors, and fine and friendly fashions, that with orderly manner may set forth a Princes regality. And though there some one (wanting [Page 65] temperance) rashly behaue himselfe and with warme wordes sturre the coales of a wicked quarrell, mens dueties in generall, (by wisedome) should either quench the heat thereof, or cast imbers on the fire, that the fury and flame should not burst out there, nor be disputed of any other where to the preiudice of that place, and looke what is offered in open hearing or secret whispering (that may sow seedes of dissention) shoulde be trodden vnder foote, or passed ouer with sporting, among the best iudgements, for feare least a little braunch of spite doe sproute vp on some rash spéeches, and grow out of order, both past remedy, and beyond the bounds of good manner.
If men in Court were as carefull to keepe peace, as they are desirous to créepe in credite, or common society should attende to no other purpose, but to familiar behauior, friendly affection, brotherly loue, and blessednes of life, you shall behold a mutuall agreement among all kinde of creatures at their first méeting, the birds with their like flées and feedes together, and in theyr manner vse a kinde of reioysing when they encounter one another, yea and taketh part with their fellowes against all that shall offend them, flocking and crying as they may together in multitudes, to shew their naturall inclination, and how they al doe suffer torment, by the disquietnes of one bird in their company. The Bées séeing but one of their fraternity troubled or angry, fly all in a swarme on euery thing offends them, and vseth such fury for reuenge, that they sting and hum out of measure. The Beasts not onely agree in their fashion, but in like sort takes one anothers part vehemently: and chiefly the very Hogs ioyne in a battaile against those dogs that biteth them. The Fish in the floud swim in skulles arming themselues against their enemies, and you shall reade in Plinie that among the Dolphins was such amity▪ that a Dolphin being taken prisoner by a King (and closely kept) there assembled such a number of Dolphins together as is incredible, and they neuer lefte mourning and playning▪ showing by sorrowfull signes the dolour taken for the losse of their companion, by which meanes [Page 66] they recouered him againe of the King.
Thus if Fish, Fowle and Beast, agrée in vnion with a wonderful league of amity, men may blush to behold their own defects and Serpentine natures, that neuer rests hissing, stinging and casting out of venome, bred in vaine mindes, and nourished in hatefull brests. The reason that man beareth, and the forme and shape of his noble creation, should be an euerlasting remembraunce to moue him vnto quietnes, especially the renowne that is gotten by patience and fortitude, should alwaies kéepe reasonable men from rages, and be a bulwarke and target to beare of quarrels, the destruction of life, the hour glasse of death, and the whole consumer of all good credite.
It is to be presupposed that prowd hearts growes so Princely, and euery one (that is quarrelous) would séeme a King or a conquerour, yet Princes take great aduisement before they breake peace, and cunningly put of causes of warre, waying the innumerable troubles, daungers, and losses that pertaines to a quarrell, but the generall number of men runs headlong into mischiefe, casting neither perill nor hazard, as all our life and fame, stood on slashing, cutting, roisting, and striuing for vain-glory. In our Elders daies fighters were called ruffians, and ruffians were so lothsome, that no honest man could abide their company. If seruing men which alwaies should be ciuile, had quiet & sober maisters, such buckelers with pikes, such swords like spits, and such long great daggers should not bee worne The weapon and countenaunce (by maintainers of quarrels) may cause cowards to be bold, and cause corage to catch copper or creepe closely in cornes. And now in the chiefe and highest degree of quarrelling, where see you iarres, questions, brawls, banding, and the rest of disorders, but where some party is ouer great (playing on aduantage) or weapons are not equall, except it be among noble great mindes, whose valiauncy can neither suffer iniury, nor abide any blemishe of honour. So euen now to them this worke is adressed, the baser sort néedes not my perswasions, nor but of good will and presumption, this needeth [Page 67] not I speake of. The whole world is fraught so full of malice, that the least occasion can be ministred, bréedes such great busines, that quarrels are so common (the custome thereof so olde) it séemeth nothing straunge to beholde murthers, odious practises, shamefull poisnings▪ and miserable man slaughters.
In Italy, a simple quarrell but once conceiued, neuer endes till death hath dispatched peraduenture both the parties, and so greedily they goe to take away life, that all the mischiefe can be imagined is put in exercises without delay, taking breath, regard of God, feare of law, or shame of the world, so blouddy is the minde, the body sléepes not, till the handes haue done some abhominable outrage. The minde cannot bee in quiet, til open folly & monstruous madnes haue disturbed the whole sences, and brought the life and body in hazard of hell fire, or daunger of worldly shame: these are the fruits of fury. The defects of nature, the miseries of man, and the brutish conditions of the counterfaite finesse in Italy. In Fraunce if a lie may bée brought in by circumstaunces, or a fine quarrell can be sifted out of grosse speeches,, present death followes, or perpetuall hatred is set abroach, wherein murthers are committed, and many a mischieuous act is taken in hand, odious to beholde, and a great horror to heare, but most vnchristianly executed.
And so generally, in all countreys and kingdoms, a quarrell once begon, comes to butchery and bloudshed, and commonly growes after (in many generations and kindreds) to deadly foed, and shamelesse slaughters.
A quarrell in property & nature, may be compared to many bigge barrels of Gun-powder, which once set on fire, flames so vehemently, that euery little corne thereof, is throughout consumed, and the blast and busines it makes, ouerthrowes houses, beateth downe great buildings, and shakes a whole towne and the walles thereof in sunder. Yea euen as a tennis ball, the harder is stricken the further it flieth, and the oftner it reboundeth, the more he labors that strikes it: so a sparke of spitefull hatred, being blowen with the busy bellowes of mallice (that [Page 68] kindleth coales which can neuer be quenched) encreaseth such a smoothering smoke and fire, that burnes like the hill of Ethna, that neuer goeth out, nor wanteth heate, and fume to trouble a whole countrey.
And one especiall point is alwaies to be noted (in the naughty nature of a quarrell) that whosoeuer hath done any iniury or giuen a wound or a blow, neuer can auoide daunger and vtter destruction, without some amendes made, crauing of pardon, open repentance, or secrete working of friends, that are wearied with the long debating of the matter.
As one good turne doth craue another, so an Iniury demands a quarrell, a quarrell bréedes a thousand offences, offences hardly can bee forgotten, and the more a wrong remaines in minde, [...]he lesse hope is of forgiuing the fault, and the more mischiefe is put in proofe and exercise.
And whosoeuer duely considers the ill inclination of people, he shall finde thousands so apt and ready to take in hand a quarell, that in some sort it is held a cowardise and a kinde of no courage to put vp a trifle, so many desires to sée bloudshed, so many sets men agog in vnhappines, and so many goes about with tales and bad deuises, to stur vp strife and contention.
Well since our imbecillity is much, our fury not little, and disposition so stout, that all thinges must be disputed of and drawen to the vttermost degrée of dangerous quarrelling: I wish peraduenture vpon some experience, that mildnes might moderate the manner of our falling out, and if nothing could qualifie the cruelty of courage, a regard of God, good reputation, iust cause, and honest dealing may be vsed, exhorting all men to looke to life, common society, mutuall loue, and the generall peace of a christian Kingdome. For how so euer the Worlde may imagine of fighting and brawling, the very route and grounde of disorder in a common wealth, is vnreasonable quarels, wherein is maintained a kinde of Turkishe tyranny, and brutish boldnesse.
This not spoken beyond the compasse of dutie, nor to the [Page 69] preiudice and hinderaunce of any mans manhood, which may bee as well seene, and vnderstood by the conquering of himselfe (and maistring his owne passions) as in hauing the victorie of others. Which triumph and victorie cannot bée gotten without great bloodshed and businesse. Thus Friend worshipfull I haue discoursed a matter worthy treating off, and I hope for the benefite of many: And so farewell.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPfull my singular good friend, sir Michaell Blount Knight, Lieutenant of the Towre.
IN trauailing abroad, & searching some secrets at home that closelie would lurke in corners vnknowen, I found (good M. Lieutenant) manie occasions to write off, but none more greeuous to behold than the wandring minds of this world, & sowers of dissention, hatefull to themselues & Enemies to their Countrey, & for reformation of their follies, & amendmēt of their liues, I drew certain verses fit for those causes, and I hope pleasant to read. And because your good mind and office of worthie credit, is as it were a curbe & musrole to hold in such strong-headed wanderers wilfully [Page 70] bent, & wickedly disposed: I did on goodwill dedicate this little Volume to your view and good consideration, knowing that therein is no verse, nor meaning of any matter, but that attends only to the aduauncement of vertue, rebuke of vice, and loyaltie to our Countrey. So wishing you much worshippe, I enter into the discourse alreadie heere mentioned.
A VVARNING TO THE VVANderers abroad, that seekes to sow dissention at home.
THE HONOR OF A Souldier.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPful Sir George Carew, Knight, Lieutenant of the Ordinance Thomas Churchyard wisheth worldly felicity, and heauenly blessednes.
IN calling to minde, good Sir George, our méeting in Ireland a long while agoe for the seruice of the Quéenes Maiesty, your good brother then liuing (to whome I was bound in good will,) I penned at that instant by his meanes the life and death of a Pirate, and promised a further worke to your selfe, which now I performe, because your Souldiour-like disposition is aunswered with the aduauncements of Fortune, and your ancient house and bloud is beautified with an honourable place, the Prince hath possest you of a signe and token as I beleeue, that a noble Souldiers profession shall neuer goe out of your remembraunce, for the which cause, I haue dedicated this worke called The honor of a Souldier vnto your protection, in hope that which you haue séene and read for the commendation of Souldiers, shall be a sufficient testimony of their value and worthines, and shall not only procure you and others like your selfe to further their fame, but like wise willing to read that I haue set downe in their behalfe, for as briefely as my small Iudgement can discharge a true discourse thereof, with good probable reasons and auncient authors of famous credite.
[Page 82]I minde to expresse and set foorth at large, how Souldiours were made off, and honoured in times past: and what prerogatiue they hadde aboue other people. And to declare how Princes held them in admiration, and gaue them liberties, titles, and dignities: farre beyond the rest of any, that liued vnder their lawes and obedience. And this by the waye is to bée thought, that all my former discourse and rehearsall of warres, attended to no other purpose and effect, but for the aduauncement of Souldiours, and to bee as it were a foile to sette foorth the matter, I presentlye mind to publishe out. For nowe I will in a manner shewe, howe Gentility beganne, and where and in what sort honour was first gotten and maintayned, which argument as I hope, shall not onely content the wise and well learned, but also please euery degrée, and make the simple sort plucke vp their courages, and imitate (by some honest exercises) the liues of noble Souldiers.
I trust I néede not in this ready and ripe age (wherein good writers, great learning, and studious iudgements doth florishe) rehearse by particulars euery parcell and poinct, that belongeth to a Souldiers profession. Nor that you looke I should recite when, and where the Romanes, Lacedemonians, Athenians, and other nations, did preferre and extoll men of Marshall minds, and noble courages. For their books and Commentaries, and the innumerable Libraries of great antiquity, are the very recordes of my discourse, and remaine as mirrours for you to looke in. And shall proue a thousand partes more in the commendation of Souldiours, then either my penne or tongue (by sufficient cunning) hath power to expresse. For it can not be, that from a little gutte or Channell of water, you should looke for so great a floud, as from a multitude of springes, from whence mighty Riuers takes originall and recourse.
And so I send you to the Welspring of knowledge (I mean [Page 83] the auncient Fathers workes) to fetch true intelligence, of the thinges I make mention of, touching the worthy reputation of a good Souldiour, and the antiquity of his credite, triumph and glory.
First, looke in the sacred Scriptures, and search from the death of Abell, comming downe orderly to the birth of Christ: And sée whether Souldiours were made of or no. And doubtlesse you shall finde they were not onely embraced and maintained, but likewise they are of a long continuance and credite. As all the Bible before Iohn the Baptistes time declareth. And Christ himselfe in a sort did vtter, when he saide, he had not found such faith in Israell, as he saw in a Centurion. Yea and in the Apostles Actes, there is a speciall poinct to be noted. Deuout Souldiours were sent to Simon Tanners house to find out Peter. Well, now I committe you to the Scripture, and I will follow prophane Histories: & begin at the very Infidels (a scorne for a Christian to be taught by) which are no small number, nor of no little continuance, people alwayes brought vp in war, and Princes of great fame, power, and auctority. Yea conquerours of the whole world, and Kinges to whom all people did stoupe and doe homage.
These Paganes, or as we may terme them, lost shéepe, to whome the great Shepheard would not be knowen, (and yet among them tormented and crucified) did make such lawes and orders for Souldiers, as the Turke to this day obserueth, and holdeth in great reuerence. Regard but the liberties and auctority of the Ianessaries: and that shall manifestly proue, that men of warre are had in great admiration. But because you shall haue the more beliefe to the matter: read the life of Alexander the Great: The Commentaries of Iulius Caesar, and the noble actes and victories of a number of other notable Princes. And then assuredly you shall be perswaded, that the renowne of Soldiours hath reached, and spread as farre as fame can flie, or good report could haue passage.
[Page 84]I pray you can any man deny, but it springeth of a great courage, and zeale to the common wealth: when a man forsaketh the pleasure of life, to follow the painefulnesse of warre, and daunger of death: and refuseth no toile nor trauaile, to purchase credite, and attaine vnto knowledge. Yea some such we read of, as Marcus Cursius, and Mucius Sceuola, that refused no enterprises to doe their Countrey pleasure. Yea some haue sold their patrimony, and consumed their Treasure and riches, to enriche their Princes with glory, and euerlasting renowne.
Were not this a madnes, and more then a méere folly, to be a drudge to the world, (and a labourer for those that sits at rest) and to watch and ward, fight, striue, and struggle with straungers for victory: and then to come home and be rewarded as common persons, and walke like a shadow in the Sunne, without estimation or countenance. Would any that had wisedome, vallue, and courage, be ouer runne with vicious fooles and cowardes, or be made a footestoole to their inferiour, when they haue climed vp the steps of honour, and are gotten into the top gallant of worldly glory, and warlicke triumph.
Among children that doe but play at the bucklars, there is a preheminence, and one will acknowledge the other to bée his better, when good bobbes are bestowed: and sodainely a stout taule lobber will lay downe the waster, and yéelde to him that hath more practise, and [...] in the weapon then himselfe. Then shal [...] not a man that hath coped with Champions, buckled with Conquerours, and abidden the hazard of the Canon, stand on his Pantoffelles, and looke to the steps he hath passed. Yes sure, and such a member of the state, (the baser sort are Ciphers) ought to be made of, deserueth place and preheminence, and is no companion for punies, nor méete to be matched with Milkesoppes, whose manhood and manners differs, as farre from the graue Soldiour, as a Donkite in courage and condition differs from a Ierfaukon.
As the duetie to a mannes countrey, and the wages that [Page 85] hee taketh, bindes him to doe the vttermost he maie: so were there not an other cause, that forceth further matter. Full coldly some would fight, and full slowly some would march to the battell, albeit the Princes quarrell and wages receiued, commaundeth much, and is a thing stoutly and wisely to be looked to. But I tell you, fame and reputation is the marke that men shoote at, and the gréedinesse of glorie and ambition, pricketh the mind so fast forward, that neither the man lookes vpon the multitude of enemies. Nor regards the daunger of death, so he may be eternized, & liue in the good opinion of the Prince and people.
For he that but bluntly lookes about him, and goeth to the warre for wealth (which hardly is there gotten) is led on with a couetous desire of that he shall not haue, and may fight like an Oxe, and die like an Asse. But who so respecteth his credite, and paiseth in ballaunce the worthynesse of fame, that riseth by well doing, doth combate like a Lion, and either conquers like a man, or dieth like a conquerour, as many great Kings & Captaines haue done, whose ensamples (a long while agoe) as yet remaynes freshlye in memorie.
It may bee thought that euery mercinarie man, and common hireling (taken vp for a while, or seruing a small season) is a souldier fit to be registred, or honoured among the renoumed sort of warlike people. For such numbers of bezoingnies or necessarie instruments for the time, are to fall to their occupation when the seruice is ended, and not to liue idlely, or looke for imbrasing. For neyther they tarry long in the f [...]elde, when they are prest to go foorth. Nor are not often called againe to the like iourney, so great is our store of such persons: and so many shiftes they can make, to putte of any paine and hazard. But hee is to bee accounted the couragious Souldier, that is giuen by his owne disposition, to delight and folow the Cannon wheele, whose countenaunce and chéerefull face beginnes to smile and reioyce when the Drumme soundeth, & whose hart is so high, it wil not stoupe to no slauery. But hath a [Page 86] bodie and minde able to answere that is looked for, and hath often béen tried & experimented in Marshiall affaires: through haunting whereof he is become ignorant of drudging at home, and made a skilfull Scholler in the discipline of warre: which is not learned without some losse of bloode, charges of purse, & consuming of time.
And this maye bée iudged, and playnly presupposed, that manie of that sort of men are not found aliue, to trouble or burthen a common wealth, because they are cut off through daungerous seruices, or forced by séeking of Fame in the field, to sell that they haue at home, and so to trauell abroade, subiect to all miserie, and far from any friendship or prosperous estate. And sometimes through the greatnes of their mindes, that gallopp [...] after glorie, are carried away to séeke out new Kingdomes, and refuse their old habitation. A matter falling out well, worthye to be liked, but otherwise, a heauy tale to be told, and an experience bought with ouer much repentaunce. But euery waye occasions they are, that dispatcheth▪ many a good Souldiour, & makes the number so little, that it is reason such as are left aliue of that profession: should eyther bee rewarded, or at the least reape vp some such credite, as the common sort of people should haue them in admiration, and offer them such courtesie, as the worthynesse of their Experience and Seruice requireth.
If in the old time our Forefathers vsed their men of warre nobly, preferred them to promotions, & dealt honourably with them that serued then Countrey, where warres were not so cruell. Why should not this world, wherein pollicies, murthers, and bloodshed is followed (and hazards are meruelously escaped) to the vttermost of mans power, haue more regard to a Souldiour that shunneth no hazard, nor refuseth no perill. There is no more to say, for the aunswering of this great ouersight, but the hackney horse is vnhappy, hauing borne a burthen all the day on his backe, & is cast off at night to a bare common, there to séeke for foode, and abide a hard fortune.
[Page 87]There is a worse matter th [...]n this to be treated off, yet nothing but that so farre past remedie to be touched: let any one seruing man get a good Maister, and for following his héeles at an inch, he shall be more spoken & get more benefit, then twenty of the best Souldiers that you can name, that haue followed the warres all their life dayes, and knew not howe to flatter & fawne, or crouch and cours [...]e for commoditie. Yea, such as serues at home, and cannot goe out of the view of a faire house, and smoke of a foule Chimney, snatcheth vp good turnes, and steales awaie preferments priuilie: when those that merites more consideration, oft goes openly a begging, and findeth few among thousands that wisheth them well, or doth them any good.
Some say the cause of this hard happe to the one, and good Fortune to the other, is a certaine deadly dissention, fallen betwéene the sword and the penne. By which mortall malice is bred and nourished in bosome, such a headstrong hatred and parcialitie, that the penne is euer giuing a dash out of order, against the commendation of the sworde, and the sword being disgraced, by a balde blot of a scuruie Goose quill, lies in a broken rustie scabberd, and so takes a Canker, which eates awaye the edge, and is in a manner lost for lacke of good looking to, and consideration of a painfull Cutler.
And the penne (as many people are perswaded) is like the Pensell of a Painter, alwaies readie to set out sundrie colours, and somtime more apt to make a blurre, then giue a good shape and proportion to any inuention or deuise, that proceedes of a plaine meaning. And as all pensels are as well occupied of a bongling Paynter, as a cunning woorkeman. So the scribling Penne is euer woorking of some subteltie, more for the benefite of the Writer, then commonly for the profitte or pleasure of the Reader: yea, and the penne is waxt so fine, and can shew such a florishe, that a Mayster of Fence, though hée playde with a twoo hand Sworde, might bee put to a foule foyle: where the Penne is in place, and is guided by a [Page 86] [...] [Page 87] [...] [Page 88] sleight hand [...], and a shrewde head.
But vnder correcton, if a man may bee plaine, the Penne and the Sword can neuer agree, because the Penne standes in such feare of the sword, it would not come vnder the blow of the blade: & the sword is in such doubt to bee moi [...]ed with inke, by the dash of a penne, that it loues not to come where the pen may annoye it. And so the dissention and quarrell betweene the Penne and the Sworde, is neuer like to bee taken vp: the harmes are so great that growes on their amitie and méeting, and the aduauntage of them both is so much when they bee kept a sunder.
For the Sworde is the best and in his most brauery when it is shyning in the fielde, where bloode may be shed, and honour may bée wonne. And the Pen is in the chi [...]fest pompe, when it lies lurking in the Towne, where pence may bée purchased, and peace and quietnesse may do what it please [...]h. And the Pen is so glad to rest in the pennar, till profite cals him out, that hée cannot abide the hindrers of his commoditie, nor the disquieter of his ease. Which commeth by warres, and proceedeth from the Sword, when the Drum and the Trumpet puts the penne out of credit.
Now to speake roundly to the reason, may bee alledged in the Pens behalfe (and prayses of those that haue the vse of the same) it cannot bée denied, but the penne may both perswade warre, and purchase peace. And those that heere at home maintaine good Lawes: sée iustice ministred, vpholde the publike state: plead controuersies at the barre, studie to vnfold doubtes. Labour at their Booke to bée profitable members, and striue dayly to excell in learning, and quiet the quarrellous people of their Countrey. Such I saye that with Pen or tongue, aduaunceth vertue, and ouerthrows vice, are méete to bée honoured, deserueth great laude, and ought to goe in the rancke and place of commendation and dignitiye. For there is but foure sortes of true Nobilitie, or Gentlemen. The first Gouernours, by whom all States and Kingdomes are guided, [Page 89] brought to know order, and made to possesse in quietnesse the goodes that eyther good Fortune, or sweate of browes hath gotten.
The second are Souldiers, whose venter and valliance hath beene great, seruice and labour not little, and dayly defended with the hazard of their liues, the libertie of the Countrey.
The thirde are vpright and learned Lawiers, that looke [...]h more to the matter they haue in hand, then the money they receiue. And are neuer idle in doing their duty, and studying for the quietnesse of matters in controuersie.
The fourth are Marchants, that sayles forrain Countreys, and brings commodities home: and after great hazards abroad do vtter their ware with regard of conscience and profite to the publike estate.
And as from the beginning Gouernours and Rulers were ordayned by God, and the rest of Gentilitie came in, and did follow as reason required, and desart did commaund. So ancient birth and blood (ioyned with good conditions) is a thing much to bee honoured and esteemed, and beautifies not only the noble race, but bringes likewise a treable beatitude, to the person so vertuously bent and nobly borne.
And as for the Souldiers and their originall, of honours, titles, and calling, the Romaines (which were the Fathers of all Marshiall affaires, and Conquerors of the world) haue so much spoken of and praysed, that no man can denie, but they are the men of greatest antiquitie, and people that Princes first preferred, and gaue stippendes vnto. Yea, and the chiefest Conquerours that euer were before our dayes: had a great glorye themselues to bee called Souldiours, and Noble Captaynes. For they thought none so worthie as the Souldier, nor none so meete to compare themselues vnto, as the man that stoode on his honour, and would neyther stoupe to no kinde of slauerye, nor yeelde to no villanous action.
But in verie deede, to speake of euery one in their order, there is none [...]o much to bee feared, loued, and honoured as the Rulers [Page 90] and Leaders of the common people.
For the peaceable Gouernour, and such as are experimented in Wordly pollicies, knowes how to make warre, and howe to auoyde troubles: and as they are loth to fall from rest and wealth, to ruffeling Warre and wickednesse, that bréedes bloodshed and want: So they can breake the bandes of peace, and set men out to the field, when causes commaundes them, and oportunitie doth serue. But since that my purpose is but to treate of Souldiers alone, (and that I lacke skill to set foorth the rest) I will returne to my first Discourse and intent, and leaue the wise to consider, what good matter may bee sayde in the thing I leaue off.
The Souldiour because his life is in ballaunce, and his death is at the dore, hath so many mischieues to passe, & so few meanes to escape daunger: that he is compelled to be honest, and be ready to make an accompt euery houre of the day. For as the Cannon may call him before he be aware, or the pollicie of the enemie may cut off his yeares: so is he assured that the pot, which goeth often to the water, comes home with a knock, or at length is passhed all in peeces. Through which accidents or crosse chances, he is held so harde, and curbed so shorte (if any feare of God be in his breast) that he hath no scope to runne at riot in: nor play the parts of a wanton, or prodigall sonne.
Albeit some hold opinion, that Souldiours be giuen to spoile and offered to insolent life, by a number of inconueniences: yet may they so well bee occupied in warre, that they may bee occasion of great good, and a great hinderer of many harmes. For when houses are ready to be burnt, impotēt persons, poore women and children ready to bee slayne: they may saue what they list, and preserue an infinite number of thinges, that a man at home can doe no good in, nor none but the Souldiour in the fielde, hath power to comfort and succour. And for certame I know Souldiours of that disposition, that hath beene occupied in these honest actions: when some Helhoudes haue beene spoyling and murthering, and founde by their follye [Page 91] and ouer great cruelitye, a dispatch of their owne dayes, and peraduenture the terrible wrath of God, and damnation to their soules.
My Prince maie bée well serued, and the Enemie not alwayes to the vttermost persecuted: the Lesson that Sainct Iohn Baptist gaue the souldiours, may suffice for this matter, and carrie mens mindes from violence, and doing wrong, to quallifie furie, and maintaine right, with a regard to the innocent, that ought not to bée touched, for the offence of an ambicious Leader, or one whose faultes the ignoraunt may not answers This point though simply it is passed ouer, may containe a large volume: and is to be looked into with a diuine [...], and [...] Christian consideration.
Then if the souldiors (as few there are in number) be honest and is to be proued, they are not to be reproued: it followes that honor and reputation accompanies those souldiours, and that a singular priuiledge and libertie, may be had for those that haue such regard of their fame, that they wil do no any one thing preiudicial to their credite, in the compasse of which regard is knit, valiancy, modestie, pitty, & hope of another life to come: whē th [...] affaires of this world shall dutifully and honestly be finished.
And for that the reader hereof shal not thinke, but that great Princes thought their Souldiours to bee honest, & men that were worthy the making of (whose doings & regarde did argue and shew a speciall hope of another place to go to, or a certaine fame and credite heere to be maintained) I will shew you as I haue gathered by translation, how triumphant kings & princely potentates, did ordaine, set downe, and deliuer a law & rule for souldiours. By the which they had honor, libertie, & prerogatiue aboue, and beyond the Commoners, or common course of people. The translation I speake of is not long and tedious, but bringing willing mindes to heare & know the truth you may read if leasure permit, and you peruse that followeth.
First you must marke (and make a good note of) that Heraldes were at the beginning souldiours, and were called auncient [Page 92] knights, as well it séemeth to be true: for they (I meant Heraldes) being brought vp in warre, beheld who deserued renowne, and had by their authoritie and experience, a power to giue Armes and signe of honor to those, which for well doing in field or publike state, did merite remembraunce, which power and place of the Heralde doth plainely expresse: that from the fielde, or honourable offices at home, sprong vp our gentilitie, & generation of Gentlemen. For as euery mans blood in a b [...]son lookes of one colour: and when Adam was created, and a long while after, mē were al alike. So vertuous actes that shines to the heauens, hath made them to bee honoured and aduaunced▪ where vicious liuers, and bloodthirsty wretches were accursed of God, and hated of man. And had a marke set vpon them to be known by, and be a testimony to the world, that they were not worthy of honour, and were appointed to reproch. Let Cain that killed his brother Abell (by an vniust warre) be a witnes in this behalfe.
Aeneas Siluius doth derine Heraldes of ab Heroibus, of Noble men:
For Heroes were auncient Knights, otherwise called Souldiours, and an Herauld signifieth Centonicum vocabulum (videlicet) and old man of Armes, or an old Knight, but at this daie (sayd Eneas a long while since) certayne seruile men, feeble and weake messengers, which neuer haue playde the Souldiours, doe professe that office. The priuileges and offices of the Herauldes in auncient time, to this day continuing neuerthelesse. And the first authour of them was Bacchus, which India being conquered, did call them by this name: I absolue you of Warres and trauell, and will that you bée auncient Souldiers, and to bée called Heroes. Your office shall bée to prouide for the Common weale, to try out the originall of causes, and to prayse the wise: you shall call for greater rewardes, in what place or Countrey you shall come. And the Kings shall giue you meat and apparell. You shall bée most honourable to all men. Princes shall offer vnto you many thinges, and shall licence you their apparell. Credite [Page 93] shalbe giuen to your sayings, you shall abhorre lies. You shall iudge traytors and Adu [...]terers. These infamous persons ye shall punish: and in euery Nation you shall haue libertie, and sure egresse and regresse shall bée vnto you, if any man shall gayne say any of you in worde or déede, let him die with the sword.
Alexander the Great hath annexed to these priuileges of noble men after a long season, that they might vse purple, golden and beautiful garments. And that they should bring in princely and notable Armes at euery place, in any Countrey or Region soeuer it shal bée If any man shal repulse these without respect, or secretely defame in woorde, hée shall bée accounted gilty of death, and deposition of gooddes. And so the same Eneas doth say, Tucidides, Herodotus, Didimses, Magashones, and Zenophon together.
Thirdly, then Octauian Auguste, the Romaine Monarch being established, hath beautified them on this condition: Who so euer (sayd hée) hath played the Souldiour with vs, the space of ten yeares, and be of the age of fourty yeares, whether he be horseman, or els footeman, he shall haue his wages▪ and afterwards be absent from wars, be a noble man and old Souldiers. No man shal forbid thée the Ctity, the Market, the Church, Hospitality and house: no man shall impute any fault to thée, thou shalt be discharged of that blemish or burthen: no man shall aske any thing of thee, if thou make fault in any thing, onely looke thou for Caesars vengeance: for what filthinesse men shall impute, let them feare thée being a iudge and corrector▪ whether they bée priuate, or Princes: what so euer thou sayest, thou shalt affirme, and no man contrary. All iourneis and places shall bée free and plaine to thée: let thy meat and drinke be in the houses of Princes, and take daily of the common treasure, wherewithall to kéepe thée and thine house. Marry thou a wife of comely beauty, and estéeme her aboue all other. Whom thou wilt checke and reproch with infamy, thou shalt say this man is an infamous reprobat. Armes, Ensignee, [Page 94] names and ornaments of noble men beare thou. Doe what thinges become Kinges, and what thou wouldest doe or say in euery place and Nation, make mention of it: if there be any iniurious person, let him die.
And last of all Cha [...]les the Great, the name of the Empire being translated to the Germaines, after the conquest of the Saxons and Lombardes. Caesar called Augustus, hath rewarded them with this honour, saying: My Knights, you noble men, fellowes of Kinges and Iudges of faultes, liue after your labour, without trauaile, prouide for Kings in a common name. Take away vice. Fauour women. Helpe children. Kéepe councell of the Prince, and of him aske your apparell, & stipend: and if any deny, let him be accounted presumptuou [...] and slaunderous. If any shall doe you iniury, let him acknowledge himselfe guilty of empairing the Empire. But take you héede least you defile such worshippe, and such priuiledge, gotten by iust trauaile of warre, either by dronkennesse, baudry, or any other vice: neither that we giue vnto you, should redound vnto praise, or peace, which is to be taken of you. If perhaps you shall exceede vs, and our successors Kinges of the Romains for euer hereafter.
These before rehearsed woorde for woorde, as I might I translated out of Latine, finding therein a maruailous commendation of Souldiers, and so is thereby to be p [...]rceiued, that in all ages, times, and publique gouernements, Kinges and mighty Monarkes, tooke care as much for their men of warre, as for their Common-weale: and to bring them in heart if any dispaire or mislike, should grow through sl [...]cknes of looking vnto. The Princes of their princely benignity, and méere good will borne to Marshall people, inuested them with titles, names and honours, such as alwaies pluckes vp a mannes courage, and procures thousandes to valiauncy and seruice. For who will not venter boldly a season, when they know for tenne yeares toile and hazard, he shall be honoured, sitte at ease, liue without daunger, and remaine in a [Page 95] perpetuall priuiledge: neither subiect to the mallice of lewde people, nor worldly want, whose plague persecuteth many millions of men, and throwes downe in the dust the prayses of such, as otherwise should shine like the Sunne, before the [...]ies of all nations.
And as those Kinges and Conquerours many hundred yeares agoe, ordained by decrée and vertue of a Law, that Souldiers should bée made honourable, and possesse great contentation of minde: So fell it out from time to time, theyr seruices were considered. And that Souldier-like King and triumphant Conquerour, King Henry the eight, hauing triall of Souldiers and a warlike heart: to shew the honour belonging to that profession, and to follow his noble predecessours: Made a Law as yee may read in the Statutes, that Souldiers might weare what they listed: And further to the comfort of all men of warre, he left no one worthy Souldier vnrewarded, in what place so euer of his dominion, or affaires the Soldiour had béene emploide.
In Fraunce, our néere neighbours makes so great account of Souldiers (namely those that they call Soldado Vetche) that the greatest Dukes or Princes in the field, Court, or Towne, encountering a Souldier, salutes him with curtesie, takes him to his Table, and vseth him with such entertainement and reuerence, that it is a world to beholde. And when seruice is to bée séene, either in battaile, or at an assault: The greatest Duke or noble man, thinkes himselfe happy to bée ioyned with a knowen Souldier: and commonly both olde and young of their nobility, are formost in the [...]ight, and last that will retire. It is a thing incredible among some ignoraunt persons, to be told how Souldier-like, and manlike in all poinctes they behaue themselues, and how little account they make of life, when death must be sought by seruice, and thereby their honour and liberty of Countrey, is to be preferred.
The Spaniards, a Nation not inferiour to any yet named, [Page 96] ioyne so in amity at their méeting, make such courtesie, and shew such fastnesse of friendship (especially among Souldiers) that euery one in presence embraceth his companion, and in absence, lets fall good report of the absent. Yea, their loue and constancy by custome and ceremonies, knits them in such an vnion, that no straunger can seperate: and they giue so great place one to another, that it is hard to know by their gestures and vsages, which is the better of them. And they haue theyr own Souldiers in such a liking, that no people in the world, shall be suffered to reape any péece of their glory.
The Italians Souldiers of great antiquity, and of no lesse value with most humility and ciuill manner, enterchaungeth their talke: yéelding for one gentle word, twenty good tearms, smooth speeches, and philed phrases. And happening to come together, either in seruice, or otherwise: they agrée like brethren, and depart without quarrell. And their great men and mightiest in power, if they repaire where Souldiers are, showes them selues of little authority, as a man might gesse by their courtesie: Refuseth to take any thing vppon them, wh [...]re the Marshall man approacheth, and seemeth to be at the disposition of such as haue serued, so great is the reputation of a Souldier among them.
The Scots men, a stout and manly people, beginning to take a sauour in the warre, seekes sundry soiles to serue in: and haue great delight to be in the company of souldiers, and proue them selues worthy of commendation in any place they repair. And for that they would become famous, and attaine to some experience and credite, they shunne no kinde of seruice that is offered: and all the sorts of Gentility among them, estéemeth much a Souldier. Which is a signe that at the length, Souldiers will come to their ancient dignity and admiration, where the sound of Dromme or Trompet may be heard.
Now to speake of our owne Nation were superfluous, (although many haue serued well, and sundry are yet in the exercises of warre) because I haue named before diuerse thinges [Page 97] wherein our countrey men haue wonne desired fame and renowne, yet for arguments sake, and to enlarge this volume. Further matter may be treated of, neither hurtfull to the hearers, that fauoureth well doing: nor hatefull to any when nothing shall be touched, but that which is necessary for the aduauncement of vertue.
Our soueraigne Lady by Gods prouidence (to make vp the matter) I bring for a testimony of great regard to Souldiers, considering whom they are she hath holpen, in some sort and respect, and what good things haue passed among Souldiers, as her highnesse heard well of, or had intelligence giuen her to vnderstand, the worthinesse of those that haue well deserued. Doe but examine how many since her noble raign, of Souldiers haue had Leases, gotten liuings, béene preferred to gouernment, and gone from Court with full hands, that beganne with empty purses. And then tell the world openly, what secret suits were passed and what open wrong they doe them, that bountifully bestowed good gifts, wher any good cause appeared. Admit some by the report of their friendes, stole away the benefites from the fountaine head: yet looke to the rest of thinges that worthely fell out, and you shall sée the best sort of Souldiers worthely rewarded, and nobly vsed. What care we though some silly soules, or seruiceable Souldiers watch at receipt, or are not spoken for by meane of some hinderers of good happe. Yet since other some, and many in number haue found good Fortune, (say what they can) at her Highnesse handes that now remaineth Quéene ouer our Countrey, we cannot but confesse that the candle is in, and not burnt so far, but may giue a gracious blase and a new light, to lighten the minds of Souldiers, and such as sit in the comfortlesse shadow of darke dispaire.
So to make short and prooue for the purpose, Souldiers in times past haue beene sette by, and dearely estéemed, and presently in all places of the world embraced and made of. From whom sprong Herraldes, the erectours and publishers of Gentlemen, & all true fame and honour did rise: as for example, a [Page 98] Knight made in the field, especially for seruice sake, hath much more to reioyce of, then he that at home is called to worship, except in causes of gouernement and honourable offices, which are to be preferred before all other dignities and calling. Chéefly for that our whole publike state and princely order, depends on their wisedomes without the which order, and Maiesty of rule, the ciuill would become sauage, and the world wax wild: so that the beastes in the field, and the people in the Towne, should soone for naughty manners be alike in condition.
Now here is to bée noted, that Souldiers in olde time of ten yeares continuance, being forty yeares of age, was suffered to liue quiet, and bore the title of honour. Then reason will graunt, that who hath serued thirty yeares, without reproach or shame (and in a dangerous world and mischiefe) may claime by right a pention of the Prince, and stipend of the common Treasure. But what and if some of good birth and hauiour, haue béene much more then thirty yeares a follower of the warres, and neuer out of warlike exercises, all this long season. And yet are as new to beginne the world againe, as they were the first day they came from their Craddle. For any preferment, fauour of the Prince, or countenaunce and commodity of their countrey. Such Souldiers may say, they were borne in an vnhappy season, or found but could friends in time of regard, and triall of good Fortune.
The affection of this worlde is led with such liking, (and the cunning of the wily can so finely curry fauour) that he that neuer came néere the daunger of the Cannon, with looking bigge, and turning vp his mouchachose, makes men beléeue he is a diuell, who fearing the monster will doe some mischiefe. And carried away by affection (for the goodly shew this kill Cow hath made) speake for him where goodnesse is to be gotten, and so a swad or a swirnpipe is called a good Souldier, (and goeth away with credite and liuing) when he that wants this cunning, and yet lackes no courage nor vallue liues vnrewarded, and consumes his daies in sorrow.
[Page 99]Yet some holdes opinion, it is but hap that helpes, and neyther cunning nor desarts that compasseth good liuinges, and attaines vnto benefite. Full bare and poore is that argument and reason, and men of such opinions, are as blinde as a béetell: to beléeue he is happy that hath no worthinesse in him, and he vnfortunate that lacketh no vertues. But the worlde is most ignorant and much to be blamed, that helpeth a shadow to great substaunce, and lets the worthy shift for their liuing that deserueth reward. and they are not to be excused, that by a colour of hap, aduaunceth the vicious person, and fauours not the foreward Souldier, and men of vertuous disposition. For gold and siluer are knowen by their weight and goodnesse: The flower by the smell: The horse by his pace, and euery other thing is tried and made of for his value. And must the merites of men be subiect to hap, where men do helpe men, and are the iudgers of mans doings: that case is too cruel, and that hap is accursed gotten by such blindnes, and purchased by such parciality.
In Rome where noble mindes were maruailously extolled, yet when diuerse men came to be preferred: euery Senator a part had [...] many followers, that one wold hinder another: and looke who the best people fauoured, the worst sort would hate. And looke who followed Pompey was misliked of Iulius Caesar, and so by this factious dealing many great Souldiers, eloquent Oratours, and noble members of the Common wealth, were put off from poste to piller. And few that were worthy of cherishing, found good chaunce, or possessed any part of the hap, that they iustly might claime, by which frowardnes and misery of the time, is plainely to bée prooued, that there is no hap certaine. For man him selfe is the maker of hap, and the marrer thereof: euen as his lust is to like, or his hart is bent to lothe. For hap could doe nothing at all among them, their affections were so farre a sunder, and they haled such seuerall wayes, that their followers were left in the lash, or failed of their footing. Then speake not of hap, for God [Page 100] and good men are the distributers of desired Fortune, and the onely causers of that which betideth, and must fall of necessity on some mens shoulders, as in the Booke of Boetius de consolatione, is manifestly to be tried.
Now leaue of hearing of hap, and note how nobly the Romanes vsed their Souldiers, namely those that at any time had succoured a Cittizen of Rome: and taken him out of the hands of his ennemies. For such souldiers as had done that seruice, was crowned with a garland or hat, made of the leaues of Trées, as I finde written in Plinie the xvi. Booke the fourth Chapter, the chiefest whereof that serueth for my purpose, I haue translated out of French. Plinie bringing many great authors to affirme his saying, the matter followeth.
The greatest honour that could bée done to a Souldier, was to Cro [...]ne him with a Crowne called Ciuiques, and likewise of long time this Crowne Ciuiques was due vnto Emperors, in signe of clemency. For since the ciuile warres had harmed the Romaines, it was thought a singular good deede, to let a Citizen liue in rest and peace. Likewise there was no Crowne compared to that Crowne: For those [...]hat were giuen to that Souldier, that was first at the breach, or first on the walles, or rampars of the ennemies, was not so honourable, no, although they were of gold, and thereby were more rich. We haue séene saieth Plinie in our time, two great triumphes for the Sea seruice, the one was of Marcus Varro (the which Pompey did Crowne, for hauing defeated the Pirates, and making the Sea cleare of Théeues) the second was of Marcus Agrippa, which Caesar did likewise Crowne, for hauing defeated the Cicilians, and purged the sea in like sort of Brigandes and Robbers.
At the first foundation of Rome, Romulus did Crowne Hostus Hostilius with a garlande of leaues: because he was the first on the Walles, at the taking of Fidena. Now before a Burgoies shoulde at any time enioy this Crown [Page 101] Ciuique, hée must rescue a Romaine Citizen, and kill the Ennemie that ledde the Citizen away Prisoner. It must bée likewise that the Enemie did holde and possesse the place, that same day that the Romaine Citizen was rescued in. It is necessarie that the man which hath béen succoured, should confesse the same before the people: For a Soldiours own witnesse in that behalfe, serues to no purpose. And furthermore it is required, that he that was rescued, be known to be a Burgois of Rome. For if one doe rescue a King, that commeth to serue the Romaines, hée doth not merite for the same the Crowne Ciuique. In like sort, if one do rescue a generall of an Armie, hee gets no more honor therefore, then though hée had rescued a simple Citizen. For they which established this ordinaunce had no regard, but to the conseruation of the Citizens of Rome, whosoeuer they were. The Priuilege of this Crowne shall bée to giue power, to weare a Hatte of broad leaues, as ofte as hée pleased that had béene once Crowned for his well doing. Further all the Senate had a custome, to rise out of their places, and to doe honor to them that haue had this Crowne, when they goe to sée the common playes and pastimes. And it is sufferable and permitted, that they shall sitte in a seate néere the Senatours. And they shall bée exempt from all ciuill charges, not onely themselues, but their naturall Fathers and Graundfathers: And nowe beholde touching their Priuileges, there was one Cicinius Dentatus, according as wee haue sayde, Crowned fourteene times. And one Capitolinus had sixe times beene Crowned, for hee rescued Seruilius, then Generall of the Armie: notwithstanding Scipio Affrican would not suffer them to giue him the Crowne Ciuique, succouring his Father in the iourney of Trebia. O ordinaunce worthye of immortalitie (sayth Plinie) that assigneth no other prayse for such great workes, then this great honour, which surpasseth all other warlike Crownes.
Thus far goes the verie words of Plinie, & many (other auncient [Page 102] Aucthors that I could rehearse) in the commendation of men of Warre, which neyther in Tholomeus time: Artaxerses dayes: nor any of the mighty Monarkes long raigning before, could bee forgotten, but were so honoured, that lawes [...] orders was onely deuised for the enlarging of their Land, and stirring vp their noble minds.
Yea, Soldiours and Herraldes hadde power to denounce warres, insomuch as the auncient Romaines: who were the Fathers of all Marshiall affaires, and conquerours of the world, held this for a most certaine rule.
Nullum bellum iustum esse nisi pro rebus iniuste ablatis & quod fecialis Romani antea denunciabant. Which rule and order of the Romaines, for the power and honour of soldiours and Herauldes: declareth they are of great dignitie and calling, & may compare by this there authoritie, to be no whit inferiour to the best sort of Gentlemen.
You may read in like manner, that there was a man among the Romaines, that merelie, or peraduenture in contempt, put a crowne Ciuique vppon his owne head: and looking out at a great windowe into the stréete, was espyed. And thereuppon apprehended, and brought before the Senate: where hée was iudged presently to be put to death, for touching and abusing that crowne Ciuique, which was ordayned for the wearing onely of an honourable Souldiour, and for such a one as had béene by desarte crowned with Triumph and Solempnitie in open audience. So this foolish man (albeit hée might meane but little harme) was had to the place of execution, and there lost his life, to the great terrour of those that rashly meddle with thinges that become them not, and to the great honour of those that are aduaunced by vertue, and winneth with courage the wearing of this Crowne called the crowne Ciuique.
Now comming downe to this present age in the time of our peace, where Souldiours haue nothing to doe, there is ynough spoken (and peraduenture too much) for the Souldiours [Page 103] commendation, yet let mee leade you a little further in that case, For now is to be prooued what degrées of Souldiours (hauing serued long, or borne any office of credit) are gentlemen, and may vnrebukeable bee bold to take that name and title vpon them. First you haue heard, that seruing ten yeares honestly and truly, he is not onely past his prentiship, but also aboue a iourney man, and ought from all ioyrneis to be spared. As a man might saie, (though vnproperly compared) a good frée horse after his long labour, and many great iourneis is to bee ridden but seldome, and kept in the stable till extreme necessitie requireth: and then is to bée vsed gentelie, least his stiffe limmes and olde bodie deceaues the Riders expectation. So a Souldiour comming to this age and perfection, or being past the iollitie of youth and youthfull actions: ought to be prouided for, and may without presumption plead for armes, albeit hee neuer gaue anye before, and can bring no great proofe of his house, gentrie, or dissent, and though he be the first of that house, stocke, & name that gaue armes: his beginning is allowed of al our ancient writers and Princes, and shall put his aduersaries to silence, when in that point they séeke to deface him.
I remember once I saw and heard an Italian (being in the E [...]perour Charles the fifth his Campe) so stand on his reputa [...]ion, that when a meane Gentleman quarrelled with him, and desired the Combate, hee aunswered hee had béene (Soldado Vetche) an old Souldiour, and had borne office, and passed through sundrie Offices by order: and that the Gentleman was but a young man, and but of twoo yeares experience in Warre, and farre vnméete to make challenge with him, that had passed so many steppes of honour, and places of credite. But sayd the Italian to his aduersarie, goe and doe that I haue doone, or passe through the like, and when thou hast mounted vp, and troden on euerye steppe that I haue passed: come to mée and I will fight with thée the Combate. But to say I will stoupe so lowe and abase my selfe (as a Lorde may in fighting with a Ruffian) beyonde the [Page 104] compasse of my calling, I will not, nor no Law of Armes can commaunde mee. The matter came in question before the Prince of Orrange that now is dead, and the Duke of Sauoy yet liuing, and the challenger had a foule disgrace in the audience of a multitude: and the defendaunt had a rewarde of fiue hundreth Crownes allowed him by the Emperour, for preseruing his honour and estimation so much. This was done and openly seene, a little before the siege of Renttie, and standeth for a good record. Then an old souldiour is a Gentleman, both worthy to giue armes and colours, and méete to be borne withall in causes of quarrell.
An other proofe for the maintenaunce of my matter, I saw at the siege of Leeth, a Gentleman of great courage and birth (called Maister Ihon Soutch) quarrell with Captaine Randall, then Maior of the fielde. And Mayster Soutch did vrge through ill words and stout language, Captaine Randall verye farre: which might haue mooued any manne living. But Captaine Randall in a manner vsed those words that the Italian had done, before expressed: and going further on in communication, commaunded the Souldiours to lay handes on Maister Soutch, and swore hee would execute him, and learne all other by his boldnesse, to knowe their duties. And when Mayster Soutch was stayed, well qouth Captaine Randall since thou hast challenged mee, I will not vse my power and authoritie ouer thee: But by the fayth of a souldier, when I am out of the Sergeaunt Maiors roume I will meete thee, and make thy heart ake for those wordes thou haste giuen: excepte thou repent before of thy lewde demeanour. Mayster Soutch hauing disgested, and wisely waighed this matter: being talked withall of the Captaines in the campe, came like a Gentleman on himselfe, and acknowledged his fault most dutifully, and with great repentaunce: for which submission of his, hee was the better thought on after.
This shewes and declares, that an auncient souldiour and [Page 105] Officer hath a great Priuilege, and not be compared with, nor offered any iniurie: because hee carries the admiration of the people, and the honour of the field.
Yee shall find written in the Spanish, and the Language of the Portugall (which Portugalles founde out the Easte Indians) that there was a mightie King of Calicute, and many other Kinges in the Indians, whose Souldiours were all Gentlemen, and did liue euer on the s [...]ipend that the King allowed them. And those Souldiours had many Priuileges and titles of honour, and stood so much on their reputation: that they would not touch a Husband mans handes, nor suffer a Rusticall fellowe to come into their houses. And the Husbande men were bounde when the Souldiours goe in the streetes, to crie with a loude voyce, to make place for the Souldiours. For if those Gentlemen did come, and bid the Common people goe out of the waie, and they doe not obay their commaundement therein: It was sufferable for the Gentlemen Souldiours, to kill those obstinate and proude people. And furthermore the King could not make Gentlemen: i [...] they were not borne of some Noble stocke, of the race of Souldiours. They could not take their weapons, nor enter into Combate, before they were armed Knightes. They must at the age of seauen yeares bée put to learne to play with all Weapons, and to the ende they shoulde bee perfect, their Maysters doe hale their armes verie farre out (thereby to stretch their limmes) and afterwarde they teach them such Fence, as is apt for that purpose. They did by an ordinaunce and custome of theirs, honour and salute their Maysters that hadde taught them at the Weapons, (which were Graduates and cunninge menne) wheresoeuer they mett them in the stréete. They were bound twoo Monethes in the yeare to plie their schoole, and take a Lesson at their Maysters handes. By which reason they were verie skilfull of their Weapons, and for that cause they greatlye estéemed themselues. They coulde [Page 106] not bee knighted, but by the Kinges owne handes, who asked them before he layde his hande on their heades: if they could obserue and keepe the custome and ordinaunce of gentlemenne Souldiours, and they sayde and aunswered the king. They minded to take that profession of Armes vppon them: and so the king caused a Sworde to be girded about them, and after embraceth those Gentlemen so knighted, then they did sweare to liue and die with him, and for him, which oath they would keepe and obserue. For if theyr Lord were slayne in the Warre: they would fight to their last breath, and kill him that had slayne theyr King. Or if at that instaunt they could not bring their purpose to effecte, they would watch and spie out a conuenient season, for the perfourmaunce of their promisse and oath. And vndoubtedlie some of them woulde reuenge their Maysters death. They hadde a great regarde to their duety and endeuoure. They thought nothinge so precious as fidelitie, and their Princes fauour. They cared not for life: so glorye might bee gotten by theyr death. They serued most faythfullye vnder them, that gaue them intertaynemente. They spared nothing, but spent liberally. They applied their onely studies for the mainteinaunce of their king and Countrey. They would not suffer any dishonour, nor offer anye iniurie. They thought it a double death to loose their good name. They made no accompt of their meat, money, sléepe, or ease and little estéemed their owne liues or persons when they should make proofe and shewe of their manhood. Their wages and stipende was so much and so well payde, that euerye one of them might liue gallantlye: and the meanest might keepe to waite on him a man or a boye. The Lawe was that they might not marrie, and yet hadde Lemmans and Women appoynted by order, which they kepte and vsed well, and all quarrells was auoyded by that meanes. For they might not companie with their women, but at certaine seasons appoynted. Thus they past ouer theyr life time, [Page 107] without the care and trouble of Wife and Children. They might forsake vppon a good cause anye of their Lemmans. And their Women might at their owne willes forsake the menne. All those that accompanied these Souldiours were Gentlewoman, and of good birth, but might not bee married to anie person after shée hadde béene at the Souldiours commaundement. And because many men by their often chaunging, happen to haue the companye of one Woman, they fathered not any Child, though it were neuer so much like them: and therefore their Brothers children did alwayes inherite their Landes and goodes. And this Lawe that those Gentlemen Souldiours should not marrie, was made by a King, that woulde not haue a manne of Warre to fixe his loue on a wife and children, nor thereby to waxe féeble spirited and effeminate. But the king ordained, because these Gentlemen should haue no womannish manners nor minds: that they should haue all thinges at their willes, and liue in such libertie, as no one thing might drawe them from noble seruice, nor commaunde them to seruile drudgerie. And because they should be the more animated to liue in noble order, and encouraged to serue well: they were priuileged, that no man might imprison them for anye cause, nor they might not bee put to death by anye meane of ordinarie iustice. Howbeit when one killed another, or did sleepe with a Countrey Woman, or did speake euill of the king then raigning. Then would the king hauing iuste and true information of the matter, make a Writing and sende the same to a head Officer, commaunding him to cutte in péeces the offendour, wheresoeuer hee was founde. And after hee was deade, there should bee hanged about him the kinges Writing, to shewe the people wherefore hee suffered: but no Law nor Iustice coulde touche him, before the king had iustlye condempned him.
So by this Libertie and honour that Souldiours had, is well to bee séene, that none by: Caesar might meddle with [Page 108] men of Warre. And it séemeth this libertie was fetched from Alexanders dayes, who called his olde souldiours Noble men, and gaue them noble priuileges and rewardes: to cause the Worlde that did followe, to augmente their renowne, and spreade theire fame to the highest Heauens, that haue beene valliant on earth and Noble of minde. Which great foresight of Alexander and other great Princes to aduaunce Souldiours: hath made menne more like Gods, than earthly creatures, and done such good to the Worlde thereby, that there is no Worlde, but will make of men of Warre, and giue place to the goodnesse of those, that striue by stoutnesse of heart, and labour of bodie to enlarge the limmets and boundes of his Countrey.
The effect of this aboue expressed, was drawne out of Spanish, and remaines among Christians, as a matter worthy noting, though Infidells did obserue them.
Now though a man haue had charge, and borne a number of Offices: yet the name of an old soldiour beautifies his title. But yet perticularly I will goe through the offices, as breefly as I maie, and therein shew who may iustlie bée called Gentlemen among them. A Collonell, a Captaine, and Ensigne bearer. A Lieutenaunt, a Corporall, a Sergeant of the band, and old souldiour though hée neuer bare any office, are all gentlemen, graunting and allowing that none of the officers were made for affection at home. But had their beginning by seruice in the Feelde, and a [...]e knowne of good courage and conduct, and well experimented in Marsh [...]all affaires. The rest of other officers, that haue noble roumes and places in the Campe, néedes no setting out: for all men know such officers as are chosen, (and made by the most noble in any gouernement) are not to bee treated off, for that euerye souldiour giues them due honour and place.
You may not looke for at my hands, the originall & discourse of all gentlemen, albeit I go as farre as I dare in that behalfe. [Page 109] For I loue not to meddle with thankelesse labour, and would be lothe to roue beyond my reach and knowledge: in a matter that my betters, as yet haue not dealt withall. For a doubtfull attempt, brings a dangerous construction. And with drawing a strong Bow, a weake arme waxeth weary. Wherfore I go no further in this matter, des [...]ring the Reader to bear with my boldnes herein, and regard souldiers as they deserue.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPfull, Sir Iohn Sauage Knight, one of the Lieutenants of Cheshire.
MY good and affectionate Worshipfull friend for manie curtesies I promised to dedicat some verses vnto you, and finding no subiect better to write vpon then the maintenance of Hospitalitie, I thought a little to touche the losse of time, and charges that a number of Gentlemen spendeth at London, not anie whit thereby blemishing the good bruite of that honorable Cittie (so I praie you vnderstand me) but shewing the inconuenience that commeth by ouer great charges bestowed and spent where nothing is gathered againe, [Page 110] nor reaped at the last but repentance, or such colde acquaintance, as when money is gone will scarse knowe a man in time of necessity, this being spoken generally of all the places and Citties in the worlde, where men shall finde but strangenes, when their owne wealth and estate begins to decline.
A Discourse of Gentlemen lying in London, that were better keepe house at home in their Countrey.
A Discourse of an old Souldiour and a young.
To the right Worshipfull Sir Henry Kneuet Knight, one of the Lieutenants of Willshire.
THE world cannot wonder, nor the wise thereof thinke strange, that experience commaunds me to keepe friends, and my pen doth what it maie to purchase me fauour, for that is all the fruites of my studies. Which once taken from me I haue neither prop to vphold mee, nor foundation to stand on: so fea [...]ing the weaknes of my feeble buildings that lies open to enuies blast) which soddenly may bee blown downe, I seeke manie staies and craue manie supportations for the maintenance of my honest mind, and workes framed for the world to behold. So good sir Henry among the worthy company of my selected friends I honor you with a smal discourse of age & youth, where a little is spoken of the olde Souldiour and the young, not in dispraise of anie of them both, but in the commendation of knowledge, courage, & conduct, vnder which three vertues consists many noble actions, & so vnder your fauourable sufferaunce I passe to my purposed matter.
A DISCOVRSE OF CALAMITY.
To the right VVorshipfull my singuler good friend Sir William Hatton knight.
IN the remembrance of a sorrowful losse I had by the death of the last Lord Chancelor, (good Sir William Hatton) and considering your great countenance partly declined by that soddaine accident, besides the great soms of money you were left to pay. For the parting from such an honourable friend, I thought (euery peece of cause well waied) you knowe as well what calamitie is as a meaner man, and feeling the smart and weight of that burthen, before you were ready to support it, your care and calamitie could not be little. First for the losse of so great a comfort, & next for the sorrow & trobles that belongs to such a losse, though lands or liuings helps to beare of a peece of the vexasion of mind, yet the body shall alwayes beare to the death a sorrowfull imagination of that hastie mishap, the impression therof shal neuer goe out of your memory, so long as life lasteth. So good sir, in signe of some consolation, I present you a discourse of Calamity, the right path to come to quietnesse, and the very hie way that leades a good mind to thinke of the immortality of the soule, thus presuming your fauorable acception of the same, I passe to the discourse of Calamity, wishing you much worship, hartes ease & health.
A Discription or Discourse, that declareth how that by tasting of miseries, men are become happie: written for that souldiers alwayes beares the burthen of sorrow and suffers more calamitie then any other people.
RIght worshipfull, for that calamitie and combersome chances, doe seeme intollerable too beare (and for our first fathers offence, they are the burthens of life, and companions of man till the hower of his death) I being often charged with the heauie fa [...]dle of misfortunes: haue taken in hand to treate of a troubled mynd, and shewe what blessednesse and benefit to the body and soule this worldly in felicity bringeth.
As the common afflictions of mankind are many in number, and seeme at the first feeling so irksome and weightie, that few can suffer them, or support them. So a multitude of miseries accustometh the mind so long, in the sharpnesse of sorrowes, that a sound iudgement is made the more able therby, to abide the brunte of troubles: and attende for a short season a remedie of misch [...]e [...]e [...], by proofe [...]he troth of this is tried. For let the laboryng man, or ordinarie porter (that daily carries great burthens) be often vsed to lift vp packes: he shall better beare a great burthen, then an other that is fine fingered, shall b [...]e able to heaue a small peece of Timber. And there is none that laboureth so sore, but is sure at one tyme or other, to attaine to rest and commoditie. So that all sorrowes are to be compted, but a sharpe sause to season the appetite, and bring the sweete and delicate dishes into such order, that it glut not the stomacke.
[Page 124]And nowe to consider how all pleasures are possessed, and pro [...]ittes take their begininges. The very issue and originall of those yearthly commodities, springes onely from continuall care and paine: and labourious vexation of body and minde. The greatest glories, and chiefest seates of honour any where, are gotten and compassed by this kinde of calamitie, and the least or most sparkes of mans delite is maintained (and at the length enioyed) by the meane of studious labour, and painefull exersices.
But herein to be briefe, paine and labour is the portion appointed for man in his pilgrimage, and they that are most persecuted (so they be not tempted aboue their strength) are most to be thought in fauour with God, and happiest among men: if heauenly graces and correction, be measured by the yearthly vesselles of vanitie, that we carry about, which without correction and refourming, would growe so full of filthe and corrupt manners, that they neither could holde good liquor, nor serue to any good purpose.
Doe you not behold that the purest mettall, with ill looking vnto, becometh full of cankers and rust: if it be not scoured, rubbed and roughly handled, his beautie decayeth, and the worth and vallue of it is little, because it hath lost his vertue and estimation. So mans corrupt Nature, were it not serched with sundrie instrumentes (that takes away the dead flesh, and toutcheth the quicke) would putrifie, and waxe lothsome to the whole world and to the creature himselfe, that beares it in his bowells. And for the auoiding of such an inconuenience, calamitie must be tasted, and troubles are necessary,, for the keeping cleane of a spotted conscience, and fraile body puffed vp with Pride, and vanitie of curious conceits.
And so I proue aduersitie, is the bringer home of good spirites, and gentill wittes, that wanders after worldly follies, and runnes a gadding beyonde the boundes of measure, to the vtter confines of daunger and destruction. Yea, a little trouble and torment▪ produceth great goodnesse, and bringeth soorth [Page 125] noble bookes, and goodly workes, which the libertie of life, and wantonnesse of pleasure, denies and hinders. As a thing that drawes man from the coueting of Fame, and true searching of immortalitie.
Mans prosperous estate breedes but idlenesse, nourisheth vice, contemnes vertue, and banisheth good studies and learning: albeit some one among the richest, at one season or other, may looke on a booke, fauor writers and giue good speeches of well dooyng. Yet seldome comes any great worke from their handes that are in prosperity. And none in a manner but the afflicted, did at any time hetherto, yeeld benefit to their countrey: and knowledge to the vniuersall worlde. Let Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Cleantes, and a number of poore Philosophers (yea princes of education) be witnesse of that I speake, from which Philosophers, the fountaine of noble Arts & Sciences did spring, and aboundantly flow.
The body pampered, bedecked with beautie, full of ornamentes, and set out to sale like flesh in the Shambelles: Either would be bought quickly, or will be tainted in hanging too long in the winde. So that as horses doe waxe reistie, for want of good vsage: and cleanest thinges taketh corruption, by lacke of looking vnto (in season). Pleasure and liberty in processe of time, makes a man wild, if callamitie tame not th [...] bodie, and bring the minde in willing subiection.
Sorrow, sadnesse, and other passions of this worlde, that comes by common causes, puttes the wittes and iudgemente to such a plonge, (secret shifte and policy) that all the senses openly makes a muster, to defend the estimation, and vpright body from falling, to which assemblie comes Patience, Reuerence and Modestie, that the matter is so well taken, iniuries are put vppe, and wronges that haue beene offered, woorkes in a wise head, a world of deuises, wherein vertue gettes victorie.
To beare the comfortable crosse of persecution, is the true badge of blessednesse, whereby the seruant is seene to follow [Page 124] [...] [Page 125] [...] [Page 126] his maister, and all the vices of man he maistered, or reformed by the crossyng chances of this worlde, and vertuous operation of calamitie, which miraculously worketh the distempered minde as the hote Fornace tries out the Golde, and the warme fire bringes in temper, and makes softe the hard and coldest Waxe. A deuine secret to them that are chosen, and familiar example to those, that glories in wordly felicitie who knowes the naturall causes of earthly thinges.
If a man might aske wherefore was man made, sent from the highest dignitie of pleasures, to this lowe dongion of sorrowes, and base soile of seruitude. It may be aunswered: Adam was thrust out of Paradice, for offence he had committed, and for that he was formed out of the earth, on the race of the earth he should get his foode and liuing, as a vessell ordained to beare all manner of liquour, that is put into it: and as a Creature condemned to tast and feele tormentes, sorrowes, and troubles, wherein man sees Gods mercie, and his owne infirmities. And refusing to beare and suffer, what is laied vpon him, hee seemeth to holde an other course then God hath appointed, and so seeketh that he cannot attaine. For since the earth was cursed, it neuer could bring forth but cares, and griefe of minde: The onely fruit and painefull portion, that was from the beginning, prepared for al Adams children and posteritie.
Now some will replie and say, that the rich and wealthy of the worlde, that may wallow and tumble on their treasure: Haue builded such bulwarkes against the assaults of fortune, that no troubles can touch them, nor make them yeeld to the common calamitie of our life, but who soeuer so thinketh, is vtterly deceiued. For ritches is not gotten nor kept, but with much care and labour, and where it is possest, it bringeth daunger, dread, disdaine and a thousand euills with it: Tempting man to riot, and lasciuious liuing, and leadeth the soule to perdition, by a number of infinite follies, except a speciall grace doe vphold it, it runneth headlong into hell, and looketh seldome vnto heauen. And commonly when men doe grow ritch, they surfet so often with bankettes or bibbing, that they are [Page 127] full of deseases, and so shortens their daies.
Which libertie of life, and boldnesse in abuses (that springs on aboundance, the roote of disorder) puffes them vp in Pride, pampers them in pleasures, and blindeth so their iudgements, that they neither can sée who deceiueth them, nor finde out the right way of heauenly felicitie. And yet the [...]latterie of one, and falsehood of an other about them, bréedeth such businesse, and raiseth such stormes (where quietnesse is looked for) that the ritch mans house is neuer without blonder, brabble, and braulinges. So that vnder the calmest shewes & ciuilest manners, lurketh terrible tempestes, and fearefull suspitions, which in that kinde is a domesticall calamitie, and miserie incurable.
And so al the iollitie and pompe of the earth (enioyed by enheritaunce, or purchased by fortune) are accompanied with paine, enterlarded with dolloure, & mixed with vnquietnesse, and may bee compared to a rotten painted wall, that vnder faire collours, hath many a foule fret, which deceiueth the eies of them that lookes on it▪ or giues those a great ouerthrow that leaneth against it. But this is no proofe ye riches is cause of sorrow, but this rather shews that sorrow care, & many misfortunes doth follow riches, & pouertie (so it be not bare indigence) is void of hazard, frée from fortunes mutability, & coumpted most happy, in comparison of the goodnes that belonged to a blessed life.
God, in beholding the vices of many, and sées some bent to estéeme villanie, or offence: doth cut of their dayes by soddaine mischances (or on a set purpose, through the Deuine power) because their euill shall not hurt the good. And regarding the other sort that will, or may amend: leaues them to the touche of their consciences, with good respite and leasure to repente, sending them miserie, trouble, and disquietnesse onely as a restraint and bridle, to plucke them from vices. And so calamitie may bee accompted a precious purgation: and prosperitie may be iudged a Pestilent desease, which encreased, or begun by disordered life, is rather to be called a calamity, & sickenesse of the soule, then a health of the minde, or good renowme to the [Page 128] bodie.
Many great personages, being ouercome with the casualties of this world, and mutabilitie of fortune, haue after their fall into persecution, taken all thinges in good part, and made but small ado, nor account of their state when aduersitie approched, and béene often time as glad to vse the libertie of minde, in a serui [...]e sort, as they were well pleased, when their bodies tooke most pleasure, and had the world at commaundement. For of necessitie stormes followe calmes: and callamitie either last or first, dooth visitte an earthly vessell. For some come to Kingdomes from induraunce, and some fall to miserie from wealth and honor. Dyonisius was glad to keep a Schole, after hee had lost his Empire, and Andronico of Athens when his Countrey was subdued by the Romans, was faine to serue sundry miserable Maisters: and after led a Lyon about Rome, to the end of his dayes. But though I brought a Tyrante and and Infidell, to shewe that calamitie must bee tasted: so could I rehearse many Christen princes, that calamitie hath touched, and made them as happy by those crosses they haue borne, as some others are blessed that makes boast, that haue neuer suffered torment.
Calamitie is like a supplyng salue that heals a sore Canher. A pretious preseruatiue, to keepe the head from surie of folly. A gentill medicine to reforme an infected conscience. A bitter draught of drinke: that purgeth a stout corrupt stomake: A sowre sirope or sauce that seasoneth a lewde appetite. And the sweete Salte of mans felicitie, without the which no life can be well seasoned.
Who feeles himselfe afflicted, hath cause to conceiue hee is not forgotten (where fauour is most to be desired) and be that is let alone, to followe his owne pleasure, walkes as a caste-away, and hath nothing to reioyce of. For his bad spirite leads him to distruction, and his good Angell hath forsaken his companie, which is a signe he is giuen ouer, to his naughty inclinations, and is suffered to slide or fall downe right, when the [Page 119] afflicted by a speciall grace, is kept from stumblidg.
The horse that findes the Bridle caste in his necke, runne [...] out of order about the wild field: And such as loueth lewde libertie, and will not be bri [...]e [...]ed, good order runnes from them, and foule reproch wa [...]es at their héeles. And if they chance to happen in any hazard, the sodainnesse of the mischiefe breaketh their hart, or the woundering of the worlde, makes the wicked a wearie of his life. But such as [...]lamitie by cust [...]me hath reclaimed, taketh aduersitie as a qualifier of cursed conditions, and being content to kisse the Rodde of perturbation, are made children of promes, and inheritours of the land they haue long looked for.
So blessed bee those babes then, who in the trouble of their soules possesseth quietnesse, and makes account of calamitie, to be the perfit way and good meane to felicity and good hap. The feeling of such a scourge and visitation, lately sent me (who gatte great benefitte by his trouble) made me write this trifling treatise of calamity.
A Commendation to them that can make gold, shewing that many heretofore hath found out the Philosophers stone.
To the right VVorshipfull my vvorthie greate friend, Sir Iohn Russell knight, one of the Lieuetenants of Worcester Shire.
I am bound in goodwil, detted in ordinarie duetie, and commanded for fauour receiued (good Sir Iohn) to publish openly in some little pamphlet, [Page 130] the great desire I haue to bee registered in your memory, so that I might merit by desearts, the least part of your affectionate frendship, not common to all but by a free election of minde offered to a fewe you thinke, worthy of it, in the purchase of which good liking I would bestowe a great portion of my studies, accompting my selfe happie in dedicating a peece of my last labours to so worthy a knight. The trueth is (good sir) in the first prime & presumption of the gifte of pen, I followed the fortunate fauourets of this world, as well to be fauoured at their hands as to be enriched by their happes, being learned that witte by those that lackte no wealth in obseruing that custome, but the higher those fauorets were mounted the lower they lefte mee, when some of them flue away I say not with my fethers, and sat on the top of their aduancements, gazing on the basenesse of my fortune, which strange accidente ministred by the mutability of time, makes me chuse faster friends, whose noble disposition, breeds greater regard, whose constancies will longer continue, and whose frendships bringes forth better fruite. So good sir Iohn knowing your good inclination towardes the best sorte of men, and faitfullnesse towardes your country and friendes, I (being tyed by good turns to remember you) haue deuised a discourse I hope delightfull for your reading, because in your sundry trauells beyonde the seas (besides your good exercises at home) you haue heard of many excellent men and artes of diuers natures and qualitie. The worke I present you is a commendation of them that can or hath made gold, if any such bee or hath bin, the art wherof I haue not only commended, but in some [Page 131] part touched, as far as my simple capacitie can reach vnto, touching & setting downe in verse, with comly termes some sufficient cause how by transmutation of mettals, many men haue aduentured the making of gold. Thus crauing the worlds goodwill and your fauour for the setting forth this bold discourse, I passe to the matter, & wish you much worship, wordly felicitie, and heauenlie blessednesse.
A Commendation to them that can make gold, shewing that many heretofore hath found out the Philosophers stone.
Mercurius Tres migistus king of the Egiptianes.
Heere follovves the Tragedie of Shores VVife, much augmented with diuers newe aditions.
To the right honorable the Lady Mount Eagle and Compton, wife to the right honourable the Lord of Buckhursts son and heire.
GOod madame for that the vertuous and good Ladie Carie your sister, honourablie accepted a discourse of my penning, I beleeued your Ladiship would not refuse the like offer, humbly presented [Page 126] and dutifully ment, I bethoght mee of a Tragedie that long laye printed and many speake well of, but some doubting the shallownesse of my heade (or of meere mallice disdaineth my doeings) denies mee the fathering of such a worke, that hath won so much credit, but as sure as god liues, they that so defames me or doth disable me in this cause, doth me such an open wrong as I would be glad to right with the best blood in my body, so he be mine equall that moued such a quarrell, but mine old yeares doth vtterly forbid me such a combat, and to contend with the malicious I thinke it a madnesse, yet I protest before God and the world the penning of Shores wife was mine, desiring in my hart that all the plagues in the worlde maie possesse me, if anie holpe me either with scrowle or councell, to the publishing of the inuencion of the same Shores wife; and to show that yet my spirits faile me not in as great matters as that, I haue augmented her Tragedie, I hope in as fine a forme as the first impression thereof, and hath sette forth some more Tragedies and Tragicall discourses, no whit inferiour as I trust to my first worke, and good Madame because Rosimond is so excellently sette forth (the actor whereof I honour) I haue somewhat beautified my Shores wife, not in any kind of emulation, but to make the world knowe, my deuice in age is as ripe & reddie, as my disposition and knowledge was in youth, so hauing chosen a noble personage, to be a patrones to support poore Shores wifes Tragedie againe, I commend all the verses of her (olde and newe) to your good Ladiships iudgement, hoping you shall lose no honour [Page 127] [...]n the supportation of the same, because the true writer thereof with all humblenesse of mind and seruice, presents the Tragedie vnto your honourable censure, wishing long life, and encrease of vertues fame, to make your Ladiships daies happie.
Heere followes the Tragedie of Shores wife, much augmented with diuers new aditions.
A Story of an Eagle and a Lady, excellently set out in Du Bartas.
TO THE HONOVRABLE MY LADIE Carie. Sir George Caries wife, one of the Ladies of the priuie chamber.
HAuing great desire (good madame) in some seruiceable sort to dedicate to you a peece of such my honest labors as may merit your Ladiships good liking, I find my selfe so vnable for the same, as in a manner halfe discouraged, I doubted what inuencion I should take in hand, but waieng your vertuous disposition, ioyned with a sweet and courteous kind of [Page 147] behauiour (that wins the worlds goodwill) I presumed that your Ladiship would not thinke amisse of anie that would honour you in good meaning with such workes of the pen, as becometh an humble writer to present to such a worthie Ladie, so searching my simple storehouse of studies, I found fit for my purpose (though farre vnmeet for your reading) a dolefull discourse of a haplesse man, penned long a goe to bee looked on, but cast carelesly aside, therefore nowe reuiued againe to manifest his misfortunes, that willinglie would not depart the world till his whole pilgrimage were well known to the best sort of people, as the verses that followes shal amply declare, which verses I commit to your ladiships iudgement and viewe, wishing you much honour and good Fortune, with encrease of vertue.
A TRAGICAL DISCOVRSE OF THE Haplesse mans life.
A DREAME.
To the right worshipfull my good Lady the Lady Paulet, who was wife to the honorable sir Hugh Paule [...] Knight.
AMong the manifold works in print, pamphelets, bookes, volumes, and deuises, I neuer addressed my pen to your Ladiship till now, though bound for many courtesies better to consider of so good a Lady, and now worst able to redeeme duty forgotten, I bring my selfe backeward to behold my great ouersight, but presing forward to win ground, I leese the keeping of a writers credit, for no one thing is left worthy your view and looking on, such hast haue I had in the spoiling of my selfe & inuentions: a prodicall point of bountie rather than the part of a wise bountiful writer, especially to bestowe the best matters on others, and present but a dreame to your Ladiship, shewing thereby the shallownes of my iudgement: but yet some such substaunce of matter as I trust is more delightfull than dainty. For my Dreame hauing many significations, may grow on many causes, and hit on a nomber of Accidents fit for my humour, but skarse meet for your graue consideration, yet such fancies as a dreame brings [...]orth, I of necessitie must offer (because my store is not great) and such fancies as I haue, I hope your Lad. amongst the rest of my friends wil stand pleased with, til better matter fall out. So in heart, seruice, and goodwill, I betake you to the sweet blessing of the Almightie.
To the right honourable my Lady Puckering, wife to the most honorable the L. keeper of the great seale of England.
GOod Madam, strange it may seeme, that a meere stranger to your Ladiship▪ [...]are aduenture to dedicate any peece of vvorke, vvhere bold attempt and labour may be but strangely vnderstood, if a greater hope in your goodnes exceeded not the greatnes of my matter, but my [...] your most honorable husbands bountifull dealings with me of late, makes me the bolder, (because I must be thankful) in this presumptio [...] [...] present some acceptable pe [...]ce of that small talent God hath giuen me to your good L. as vvell to be knovven of you, as to keep [...] me in my L. fauour, and though that vvhich I o [...]fer be skarce vvorthy the taking, Yet I trust first my seruiceable present hall not be misliked▪ because the receiuing vvell thereof, may procure a further peece of vvork better penned, such as shall best become me to present, as knovveth God, [...] novv, and at all times augment his good gifts of grace in your good Ladiship.
To the right worshipfull the Ladie Anderson, wife to the right honorable Lord chiefe Iustice of the common Pleas.
MY boldnes being much, may passe the bounds of duty, but the goodnes of your honourable husband (good Madame) passeth so farre the commendacion of my penne, that vnder his iudgement and shield (that is so iust a Iudge) I make a sauegard to this my presumption, that hazardeth where I am vnknowen to present any peece of Poetrie or matter of greater effect, yet aduenturing by fortune, to giue my Lady your sister somewhat in the honour of the Queenes Maiestie, in the excellencie of her woorthy praise that neuer can decay. I haue translated some verses out of French, that a Poet seemed to write of his owne mistresse, which verses are so apt for the honouring of the Phenix of our worlde, that I cannot hide them from the sight of the worthy, nor dare commit so grosse a fault as to let them die with my selfe: wherfore and in way of your fauour in publishing these verses, I dedicate them to your good Ladishippe, though not so well penned as the first Authour did polish them, yet in the best manner my muse can affoorde, they are plainly expressed, hoping they shalbe as well taken as they are ment, so the blessed and great Iudge of all daily blesse you.
A few plaine verses of truth against the flaterie of time, made when the Queens Maiestie was last at Oxenford.
To the right Worshipfull my Ladie Fortescue, wife to the right honourable Sir Iohn Fortescue Knight.
THe good turne and great labour good Madam, your Honorable husband bestowed in my behalf bindes me so far, as I must not be ingrat, to him nor non of his, & chiefelie to remember your Ladishippe, with some matter acceptable, I than thinking of the great griefe that manie Soldiours found by the absence of the Queenes Maiestie in time of the plague, when she laie last at Hampton court, drew out some sadde verses of the sorrowe among Soldiers conceiued, and presuming you will accept them, I became so bolde as to present them to your handes, had I anie worthier worke to offer I would bring better, but hoping these fewe lines shall duetifullie show my good will, I am to craue your fauour, in presenting these verses vnto you, desiring God to multiplie his benefites and blessinges in your good Ladishippe.
This is taken out of Belleau made of his own Mistresse.
Translated out of French, for one that is bounde much to Fortune.
This is to be red fiue waies.
TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPfull, my Ladie Brocket, wife to Sir Iohn Brocket knight, one of the Lieutenants of Hartford Shire.
A Promise made to the good Ladie you Sister, who died in the Towre (good Madā) cōmands me to shape somwhat of good will & labour of pen, to present your La, withall, & for that I can not long liue in this world & must needs take leaue therof sooner than I looke for. I haue found out an old farewell that maie breed some new consideration, and [Page 220] such a running and rouing rime it is (I hope without offence) as rather shall procure laughter than lowring, it is enterlarded with conceits, and mixed with familiar termes, shortlie knit vp, and without all curious circumstances▪ as briefe to the Reader, as vntedious to the writer, hauing passed the censure of the world thirtie yeares agoe, and is now put in print againe for a passing of the time, and a farewell to the world. So hoping your La▪ receiues it in good part, the matter beginneth I trust to your content and good likeing.
A FAREVVELL VVHEN I VVENT to studie, written to the VVorld.
A Tragicall Discourse of a dolorous Gentlewoman, dedicated to all those Ladyes that holdes good name precious.
This discarded Gentlewoman went awalking twentye yeares, and yet cannot finde the waie home to her husband.
To the right Worshipfull my Ladie Wawllar, wife to the Souldioer-like Knight Sir VVater Wawllar.
I Had almost (good Madam) forgotte what I promised, of my self, touching a Book to be Printed, yet at the kniting vp of a tedius tale I remēbred how to keepe promise and a friend, & bethought me of som matter pertaining to that cause, waying that light and [Page 256] slender discourses became not me to offer, nor your Ladishippe to heare. So happening on a dolefull and tragicall Treatise I preferd it to your reading, knowing that some humor of sorrow or sorrowfull penned matter would be answerable to your graue consistderation, in which discourse following, are numbers of heauie causes t [...]eated on, and touched so narrowlie (with a cleare conceite of the writer) that no one point or other pertaining to a ruefull rehearsall of troubles, is forgotten. And though the tale seemeth long, the varietie and life of words it bringeth, shall I doubt not shorten the time that is spent in reading, for that euerie passion of mind, trouble of bodie, and disquietnesse of the Soule, is amplie and plainelie explained and vnfolded by that which followeth, translated out of another language & taught to speake English to those that vnderstandeth the heauie haps of such, as haue fallen into misfortune, so knitting vp my Booke with this discourse, I expresse the matter I haue spoken of.