HONOR TRIVMPHANT.

OR The Peeres Chal­lenge, by Armes defensible, at Tilt, Turney, and Barriers.

In Honor of all faire Ladies, and in defence of these foure positions following.

  • 1. Knights in Ladies seruice haue no free-will.
  • 2. Beauty is the mainteiner of valour.
  • 3. Faire Lady was neuer false.
  • 4. Perfect Louers are onely wise.

Mainteined by Arguments.

ALSO The Monarches meeting: OR The King of Denmarkes welcome into England.

Tam Mercurio, quam Marti.

AT LONDON Printed for Francis Burton. 1606.

  • To the most noble Lord, the Duke of Lennox his grace.

    First Position. Knights in Ladies seruice haue no free-will.

  • To the Right Honorable the Earle of Arundel.

    Second Position. Beauty is the mainteiner of valour.

  • To the Right Honorable the Earle of Pembrooke.

    Third Position. Faire Ladie was neuer false.

  • To the Right Honorable the Earle of Mountgomery.

    Fourth Position. Perfect louers are onely wise.

To the Rightly Honourable, and truely worthy Ladies, the Countesse of Pembrooke, and the Countesse of Mountgomerie.

MOST EXCELLENT LADIES.

Where perfect honour is ennobled with ac­complisht perfection, Beauty is not scant: which euermore is the glorious shrine of honourable fauour: else had I misconceited mine owne hopes, and beene grauelled in mine own con­ceipts: but my strong confidence, is my confident war­rant: neither can ye distast that, which explanes, but what is done for you, what is done by yours. If the pleasure ye shall take in the Defenders, who are yours, by the de­fence, which is for you, be great: then the acceptance cannot be lesse, in reading the reasons for that defence: especially being to you deuoted: and onely to you de­uoted. What defects and weakely mainteyning argu­ments, in the arguments there are, your protection shal wipe off, and the trueth it selfe (which needes no lustre) chiefly priuiledge. I affect no singularity, I boast no affe­ctation: yet can I not freeze in the one, when I am tem­perately heated with the other. To whom (noble Coun­tesses) [Page]should I dedicate the ornaments of loue, and beauty? but to the beautifullest ornaments, worthy to be beloued. Neither doubt I, but as these endeauours were willingly intended, so will they as gratefully bee accepted. Otherwise (as I hope, as I feare not) I will be an alien to mine owne issue: as vnworthy to be christi­ned for mine, since dis-esteemed in being mine. Others, who oppose themselues, if not by Mercury perswa­ded, I referre to be by Mars enforced. So ad­uenturing at once all my deserts, in your like or dislike: I rest.

Deuoted to your ho­nourable virtues, I. F.

To euery sundry opinioned Reader.

READER,

I Intend not to make any tedious Apologie: if thou be my friend, thou wilt censure friendly: if a stranger, indifferently: if an enemie, I e­steeme thee not. Then thus:

I write not to content each cauelling braine,
But eyes of noblest spirits: he that loues mee
Will thanke my labours, and commend my veyne,
For any others enuy, least it moues mee.
"He that will storme at euery wrongfull hate,
"Must not referre it to desert, but fate.
Let Ladies smile vpon my lines, I care not
For idle faults in grauer Censors eye:
On whose opinion (truth it is) I dare not,
The merit of my studies to rely.
Heere is the comfort, which doth cheere despaire,
I shall be lik't not of the graue, but faire.
Meritum rependant venustae.

Honor tryumphant.

TO THE RIGHT NO­ble Lord, the Duke of Lennox his Grace. First Position.

Knights in Ladies seruice haue no free-will.

RIGHT NOBLE LORD,

HOw certaine it is, both by the tradition of anci­ent and moderne iudgements avowed, that eue­rie man is not borne for himselfe; the communi­tie of the sawe, and the authoritie of reason shall bee a Priuiledge sufficient; but how much mistaken both the Philosophers of old and later Neotorickes haue been, their owne ignorance makes manifest: A man (say they) is partly borne for his Countrey, partly for his Parents, partly for his friends, nothing or (if any thing yet) least and lastly for himselfe. True, yet had the sen­sible touch of passion toucht them with the feeling of a passionate sence; how much more and more truely might they haue affirmed, that the chiefest creation of man was (next his owne soule) to doe homage to the excellent frame of beautie, a woman: A woman? the art of na­ture, [Page]the liuely perfection of heauens Architecture: for though

Man be the little world where wonder lyes;
yet Women are Saints aboue earth's Paradise.

For what is he, who is so absolute a Lord of himselfe? so powerfull in his owne power? so free of his owne affections? as being ensnared in the pleasing seruitude of a gracious beautie, can or durst to vndertake any occasion of remisnesse, but his own hart wil be the first guilty accuser of his owne folly, and his sincere repen­tance doe pennance in the language of griefe, in the griefe of despaire. Againe, what is he then, that be­ing free from this captiued happinesse of loue, as it were disdaining to stoope to the bondage of beautie, will not at length feele the miserie of his scorne, and be scorned in the wracke of his miserie? besides, may hee not be desperate of his owne merit, to thinke him­selfe the onely exiled abiect banished from out the ac­ceptance of a Ladies fauour, as also his owne vnwor­thinesse, which cannot deserue so delicious a blessing? say then such a one be entertained, as a happie seruant to a more glorious mistresse: how soone, how much is his owne free rule of himselfe indeered to the com­maund of a precious Goddesse, neither then hath he, neither is it meet he should haue any more dominati­on ouer his owne affections. Mars throwes downe his weapons, and Venus leads him captiue, the lustre of her eyes, and the glorie of her worth are of such vnresistable a force, as the weaknesse of his manhood, or the aptnesse of his frailtie, are neither able to en­dure the ones reflection, or withstand the others temptation: how then? must he yeeld? true, not to cap­tiuitie, [Page]but freedome; for to bee captiued to beautie, is to bee free to vertue: who would not put of an armour of hard steele and turne from his enemies, to be en­chained in pleasure, and turne to a lady in a bed of soft down? foolish hardinesse, is hardened foolishnesse, when secu­rest loue is the loueliest securitie.

Loue once was free from loue, and had a will
To play the wanton wag, he strooke full many,
And tooke delight soft thoughts of ease to kill:
Yet he himselfe was neuer spoyid of any.
Loue carelesse would go walke, when by a groue
Loue saw a Nymph, when straight Loue fell in loue.
Cupid with Psiches fell in loue, whose beauty
Dazled the lustre of his wandring eye:
Forcing his heart deuote obsequious duty,
Vnto the wonder of her diety.
Herein was Cupid blind, who els could see
Loue now captiu'd his heart, which earst was free.
Loue hath no power ere he gaine his rest,
But to impawne, sweare, promise, and protest;
Alas, what is it then that men in bed
Will not vow, vrge, to gaine a maiden head:
Which being got, they euer after stand
Deuoted to their Ladies deere commaund.

Then what man of reason is he, who would be so vnreasonable in his owne desires, to wish himselfe ob­stinatly foolish; or thinke himselfe foolishlie wife: by [...]ining his owne dissolute infranchisment, in the [Page]boundlesse limitts of his owne frantick wilfulnesse? such and of such nature are they, who in the ranco­rous spleenes of an vnpreuailing rancour, durst not onelie in the mallice of their tongues to speake, but in the venome of their hearts, to copy out whole pamphlets against the dignitie of the female sex: either without respect that they themselues came from a woman, or without regard that a woman wrought the peace for their weak-ballac't soules: (oh but say such) had not a woman beene the tempter and efficient of our fall, we had not needed a redemptions: alas sillie betrayers of your owne follie? wretched blasphemers against the perfection of nature? can ye not or will yee not vnderstand that the blessing of this fall, is saluation? assurance of heauen? certainty of ioyes? yes it is doubt­lesly probable that women are, Natures pride, Vertues ornaments, Angels on earth, worthy to be serued, Saints in heauen, Memorable to be registred.

Ne ij sunt amore digni,
Quos indignos reijcit amor.

Would any man liue happie in content of mind? fortunate in prosperitie of content? singular in the repute of account? blessed in beeing inriched with earths ra­rest blessing? let him then ennoble his deserts, by de­seruing to be beloued: of whome? of popular opinion or vnstable vulgar dependances? no, but of loue it selfe a woman. Would any be miserable? let him be exclu­ded from the fauour of beauty; & it is a misery incom­parable, a torment vnspeakable, a death, yea a hell insufferable. How then comes it to passe that some vaine oppugners of loue thinke? that by seruing of a ladie, [Page]they themselues both honour in their loue, and ought to be honoured for louing of their beloued? it is easily answered, by the imperfection of their manhood, and pride of their grosse erronious folly. For this in the rules of affection is text, Whosoeuer truely loue, and are truly of their ladies beloued, ought in their seruice to employ their endeuours; more for the honour and deseruing the continuance of their ladies good will, than any way to respect the Free-will of their owne heedlesse disposi­tions, else are they degenerate Bastards, and Apo­states, reuolting from the principals, and princi­pall rules of sincere deuotion. It is not ynough for any man that hath by long suit, tedious imprecations, ieopardous hazard, toyle of bodie, griefe of mind, pi­tifull laments, obsequious fawnings, desperate passions, and passionate despaire; at length for a meed or requi­tall to his vnrest, gained the fauourable acceprance, of his most and best desired ladie: it is not I say then y­nough, for such a man to thinke, that by his pennance in obtayning, he hath performed a Knights seruice ha­uing obtained: but he must thenceforth, as much em­ploy his industrie to preserue. For well sayd the Poet whosoeuer sayd it, ‘Non minor est virtus quam quaerere parta tueri.’

Perfect seruice, and seruiceable loyaltie, is seene more cleerely in deseruing loue and maintaining it, thā in attempting or laboring for it. How can any one be sayd truely to serue, when he more respects the li­bertie of his owne affections, than the imposition of Ladies command? to attaine happinesse, and then neg­lect it is but an vnhappie negligence, a negligent vn­happinesse: it is an vnthankfull ingratitude, than which [Page]nothing can be to heauē more hainous, & in the regard of men more detestable. Herein are certaine chuffes differing from the glorious nature of gentilitie; who hauing stumbled vpon the raritie of beautie, are cloyed in their owne delicacies: not prizing the inva­luable iewell of what they possesse, not esteeming the benefit of their precious felicitie: but like swine touze pearle without respect, when as generous spirits glo­rie in their ample fortune: and subiect themselues to their chiefest glorie, for to be a deseruing seruant to a deserued ladie, is liberally to enioy heauen on earth. If therefore the scope of mortalitie consist in the frui­tion of imparadised content, or a contented paradise? how requisite is it, that Knights (for vnder these titles of honour, doe I conclude true louers) should loose the freedome of their owne wils, to be seruiceable to the wils of their choycest ladies? who can serue two Masters? who can be a master of himselfe, when he is a seruant to his ladie? but either he scornes the humili­tie due to her, or affects a singularitie to himselfe, if the one, he is no seruant; if the other, an vnfit louer Why? for because a true louer must frame his actions to the behestes of his ladie, and magnifying her worthinesse. Hence is it sayd, and truely sayd, Knights in ladies ser­uice haue no free-will: that is, they ought not to be their owne, nor subiect to their owne pleasure, vnlesse to please themselues in the recreation which tendeth to their ladies honour. How pithily sayd a wise man, ‘Non amare decet, at amari praestat.’

To loue, is common to sensualitie; but to be belo­ued, is the crown of desert; they best deserue to be be­loued, who deserue loue; and they principally deserue [Page]loue, who can moderate their priuate affection, and leuell the scope of desert, to the executing their ladies commaund, and adorne their names by martiall feates of armes. As for instance, Paris defended Hellen with the losse of his life: Troylus would fight for Cresseida: Aenaeas wonne Lauinia with the dint of his weapon, and sweat of bloud: Paelops hazarded his life for Hip­podamia, yea what better example than of late in our owne territorie? that noble vntimelie cropt spirit of honour, our english Hector, who car'd not to vnder­goe any gust of spleene, and censure, for his neuer-suf­ficiently admired Opia, a perfect Penelope to her ancient knight Vlisses, he an vnfained Vlisses to her, for whose sake neither the wiles of Circes, or inchauntments of Syrens, or brunt of warrs, could force or intice to for­getfulnes. But examples may seeme rather tedious than conuenient, I leaue the certainty of them to their authours, with this prouiso, that what is manifest, needs no commentarie. Now then considering the perfecti­ons of ladies, haue been both informer and moderne ages, so resonant through euery climate of the world: what dull spirit? what leaden apprehension hath he? that would be more curious, to vndertake the yoake of their seruice, then forward to participate their beauties. Lentulus the Roman warrior, after all his conquests abroad, was willingly captiu'd and conque­red at home; insomuch as at the first veiw of Terentia, hee fear'd not to say, Non bellum, non fortuna: Fate cannot limitt, warre cannot subdue the efficatie of loue.

The fleeting pashions of disloyall minds,
Proceeds from wrong directed scope of lust,
Inconstant chaunge beseems grosse-feeding hindes,
In whose deserts is neither faith, or trust.
When noble spirits in the bonds of dutie,
Pay tribute to the excellence of beautie.
For gentle temper of a freer blood,
Counts bondage to a ladie willing pleasure,
Adoring seruice of best worthy good:
And deeme their toile for fauour pleasing leasure:
Not reckoning commaund, seruilitie,
But true performance, true nobilitie.
To talke, conuerse, or dailie, is not loue:
But amorous wantonnesse of idle play,
Brunts of defence doth firme affection proue,
Who would not fight when beutie is the prey?
Then who is he who would not think hee's free,
When hee's inthral'd to loues captiuitie?

Loues captiuitie is freedoms infranchisement, and whosoeuer is a prisoner, to the merrit of fairnesse, is absolutely naturalized a denizen to happines. To con­clude (for in knowen verities many proofes are need­lesse) a true, and truely louing knights libertie, ought to be inchained, to the disposure of his ladie: her will must be to him a law, and that law, not penall, but irre­fragable. The sincerity of his tryed affection, must bee an obstacle to wilfulnes, with due consideration, that although he be bound to vndergoe her pleasure, so he [Page]shall vndertake no shame that may displease. For from the faire proceeds nothing but what is faire. Ladies are mild, and fearefull to impose dangers: wise, and will preuent them: especially such daungers, as either may threaten inglorious dishonour, or likely perill to their beloued. Timorous they are of the worst, carefull (and in that care ambitious) for the best. Nature made them Females, vertuously kinde, women, angelically vertuous: horror befits not their sex, or vnthankeful­nesse their beauties: for although warre defends the right of loue, yet loue cannot brooke the seueritie of warre.

Dalliance in chambers, harmelesse play and sport,
Doe with the sweetes of loue, much better sort.

Since then ladies are moulded of this temper, and tempered in the mould of loue, mildnesse, and kind­nesse: what is that Knight that would not be their cap­tiue? insomuch as the bluntest cynicke, must in rea­son avow, that it is most reason, that Knights in Ladies seruice haue no Free-will.

TO THE RIGHT Honourable the Earle of Arundel. Second Position.

Beautie is the Maintainer of Valour.

RIGHT HONOVRABLE.

IT is no preiudice to the precious claritie of know­ledge, euen in vndoubted truthes, to make truth more doubtles, for in matters of wrong, arguments doe confound sence, when in explanation of right, they doe senceably approoue it. Tis good; Myste­rie in demonstration, is a confused nicenesse. So knowne is the certainty of this Positiō, Et domi, et foris, that who­soeuer would seeme ignorantly strange, would but bewray his strangely rude ignorance in seeming so. Beautie (say we) is the maintayner of Valour: Who is so blunt as knowes it not? who is so blockish as will not (and may with iustice) defend it? an instance euen in the entrance shall bee no absurditie. In the infancie of the Romane Empire, (as Plutarch to the purpose re­hearseth) the Romanes violently seazed vpon the Sa­bines [Page]ladies: by violence they wonne them, by valour they iustified their winning; insomuch as euer after betwixt these warlike Nations began both increase of hatred, and defiance of hostilitie. In which times Kissing had his first originall, deuised by the Sabine la­dies, as an earnest-peny of desart, to the guerdon of the Romanes desperate toyle. For although in the eyes of some more Stoicall censures, Kissing seems but a need­lesse ceremonie, yet in the feeling of loue, it is the first tast of loue, the first certaintie of hope, the first hope of obtaining, the first obtaining of fauour, the first fa­uour of graunt, the first graunt of assurance, the first & principallest assurance of affection; the first shadow of the substance of after contented happinesse, happy pleasure, pleasing heauen; but to our matter. Men for the most part (some more heroycall inclinations by nature excepted) are in the frailtie of their humanitie, so fearefull of harmes, and so desirous of the preserua­tiue of life: as although not the discouragement of cowardise, yet proper instinct of mortalitie, will deter them from wilfull, and imminent running into perill. Some againe are of that frozen and cold temperature of disposition, as according to the prouerbe, they e­steeme it prouident safetie, to sleepe in a whole skinne. Of this imbecilitie are many, who haue only enioyed, the lazie softnesse of vitious ease; and neuer felt, at least neuer conceited the touch of any miserie, no not of gentilitie. The selfe alone meanes therefore, that were to bee ordayned, for a prouocation, and incite­mēt to liuelyhood of manhood was, the quintessence, raritie, yea rare quintessence of diuine astonishment, Beautie: vpon whose al-perfection, the greedy eye of [Page]desire (euen in spirits of clay and mud) being sixt, hath stir'd vp such a rauishment of possession, as they now esteeme all dangers weake; nay, all impossibilities faci­lities, to possesse it. That Cardinall-vertue of inuincible fortitude, had long since ben leuel'd with cowardise, had not beauty the alarum to magnanimitie, rent the distrust of weaknes and strengthened it with contempt of pre­cedencie; aemulation of desert. Say then, how pro­bable is it? how indubitate hereditary is the depen­dance of Valor, to the merit of beauty? Beautie! which prickes on the slowest, encourageth the faint-harted, sharpens the dull, commaundeth the stowtest, recrea­teth the wearie, and guerdoneth the deseruing. Beau­tie! the largesse of the Gods; the comfort of men; the bounty of heauen; the prize of earth; the paradise of glory; the Vialactea to felicitie; the wonder of it selfe, beautie. This is that Achilles impenetrable shield, which euerie Vlisses pleads for, euery Aiax fights for; this is that golden fleece, which the Argonautes sued to find, which Iason toyling enioied. This is that famoused Trophey, which Philip would haue his sonne Alexander in the games of Olympus to wrastle for. How much are they deceiued (I mean these fainter bloods) who vain­ly imagine, that souldiers fight for spoile only; Generals hazard their persons for greedines; Sea-men traffique for auarice: Knights wander for prey, or that any ieo­pards his life, chiefely for lucre. Does not the marchant venture ship-wrack to returne with a present, that may purchase his Ladies liking? and in her liking his owne blisse? does not the souldier fight abroad to preserue his ladie in safety at home? does not the generall com­maund, that hee may returne with victorie gracious [Page]in his Ladies eyes? does not the Knight errant attempt threatnings of horrour? aduentures of dread? thun­der of death it selfe? onely to rumour his fame in the cares of his ladie? does he not range for the succour of beautie? for the freedome of beautie? for the ioy of beautie? and all spoyle that the souldier bleedes for, all the greedinesse that commaunders sweat for, all the auarice that the Marchant trades for, all the prey that the Knight aduentures for, all the benefite that euerie one and all of these hope, wish, pray, contend for, is the fruition of Beautie: than which nothing can be more gratefull, nothing is so acceptable.

Valour.
Through streames of blood and massacres of death,
I spend the troubles of a glorious breath.
In feates of armes and lifes dread desperation,
I touze to gaine me Fame and Reputation.
All that I striue for, is to comprehend
Honour; to honour all my labours tend.
Honour.
Valour doth aime at me, I aime at Beautie,
And make my greatnes greater by my dutie.
Valour doth fight for me, when all my prize
Consist's in fauour of sweet Beauties eies.
Honour sustaineth Valour: when againe
Beautie feedes Honour: and in that them twaine.
Beautie.
Mean-bred deserts who couet much ambition,
Hauing attain'd it, euer grow ambitious:
Soring to gaine my loue, in whose tuition
Their greatnes is aduaunst, and made propitious:
I strengthen cowards, and exalt the spirits
Of weaknesse, I maintaine proud chiualrie:
In me the drifts of Honour pledge their merits:
To guerdon and discerne worthes dignitie:
And but for me they brunts of hazard loath:
Honour payes Valour: Beutie rules them both.

The whole scope that Valour, and men of valiant courage ayme their drifts at, is for the most part a fa­mous name, and reputed Honour: but the marke which honour directs his leuell to, is to participate the de­lightfull sweets of sweetest Beautie, which in al succee­ding posterities, hath been of so powerfull and power­fully respected awe, that for the hopes, which men haue euermore conceiued of enioying it, they haue with accountrements of defence been prest, for feare of losing, to preserue it. Beautie! why it is the life of magnanimitie, it is the perfect sparke, whose lustre re­flecteth boldnesse to the timorous. Beautie! what is it? what can it else be? but the modell of all fortitude, for this proofe (vnlesse I be mistaken as I am not) did the antiquaries of the elder world, such as were Martia­lists, attribute all worship vnto Pallas, all adoration to Bellona, reuerencing her as the Goddesse of armes, yet shee a woman. Fayre she was, els in vaine would shee striue with Venus for the golden ball: valiant she was, els with foolish superstition, did the ancient best War­riors adore her, and the younger Sophyes allow her, yes, yes, she was wise, beautifull, and valiant, inclu­ding this morrall, that as shee had courage, so was shee a woman, whose force was not more fierce to terrifie, but her Beutie was as piercing to wound. Did they ap­plaud her martiall disposition? true, but they did re­uerence [Page]her amiable looks, most certain it is, the vali­ant may and do contend with the valiant, but Beautie hath the maistery of both.

Audentes forma cogit audaces.

Loue breaths more resolution into the forwardnes of the resolued; for neuer haue we read, neuer heard of any vndaunted Champion, who being free in his owne affections, did striue so much by perillous ex­ployts, to adorne the rumour of fame; but if he af­ter were blest, by being an entertained seruant to some worthy ladie, those daungers which before see­med dangers, he would now deeme easie, and all easy atchiuements, toyes, onely that should then bee most honorable, which threatned most terror. Hercules valued the swimming ouer the Sea, to breed wōder in Deianeira, not for that he desired to doe it, but because she should admire, and commend the deed. Why do spruce courtiers, practize courtlike actiuitie? but to breed delight to their Ladyes. why doe men in ge­nerall contend to exceed in brauerie? but to be noted the brauest of their ladies. Why doe cormorants hoord treasure? but to attract some ladies liking Why do poore men toyle? great men trauerse? but all to one end, to share Beautie. why doe Kings and greatest Princes, thirst to enlarge their empires and domini­ons? but to be noted for more eminent, and more to be loued for that eminence of their ladies. Let vs looke into all the devoyres of mankind, and they all tend to the content of Beautie: Men to honour men, is rather a bootlesse feare, then in regardfull loue; but for men to bee honoured of ladies, is the scope of all felicitie. Men in kindnesse are mutually lambs, but [Page]in corriuall-shipp of loue, Lyons. Should I fight for my friend, I might be appeazed in my choller, but for my lady, I am inexorable.

Chalibs mihi circa pectus.

The teares of widows, the cries of babes, the con­dolement of Parents, the intreaties of Children, the wounds of the maimed, the wracke of the oppressed, cannot moue pity in a steeled hart, which fights for re­port in the honor of his lady. It is said of the Turks they traine their youth in discipline of warre, with intent of cruelty, beleeue it I cānot be perswaded, that being so absolute warriors, they shuld so wholy be murtherous tyrants, except to returne with triumph in the sight of their ladies. Tamburlaine, the scourge of God, and sa­uadgest monster of his time; neuer made a slaughter vpon any of his conquered captiues, but the principal­lest he euer sent as slaues to his queene Zenocrate, in­tending that as she was the deity, who infus'd strength into his armes: so shee should be the whole glory of his tryumph.

Pax ruat in bellum, socium (que) in praelia faedus:
Causa subit; nulla fronte regendus Amor.

How requisite it is then for a kingdom, which would be fortifyed with choyce of magnanimous spirits, to be also inriched with the ornament of Beauty: the expe­diency in occasions of necessity makes euident. I haue often maruailed why the Romanes (famous for their loues) going to battaile against a world of so many na­tions, as they did, for more suerty of victory, had not carried their ladies with thē: that by the sight of them their enfeebled strēgth, might (like the head of Hydra) doubly haue renued. Doubtles had Iulius Caesar, at his [Page]first arriuall for the conquest of Britane, brought with him Cleopatra, he would neuer haue twise suffered so shamefull a repulse. What infinite examples might here be alledged, for the probatiō, that Beauty hath euermore instigated audacity to the dullest? finally in the apprehē ­sion of cōmon reason, let euery man examine himselfe, whether it be not the immediat norisher of al fortitude? It is, it hath been, and euer wilbe the nurse, and foode of heroicall chiualry, for valor not seasoned with the hopes of loue, is an irresolute valour. A souldier, and libertine, is an vn armed souldier? Beauty is the spur to Honor; Ho­nor the seruiceable attendant on Beauty, yet will some home-bred poring Academicke say, it is the only means to make a warrior a flat coward: for Beauty allures to de­lights, delights to ease, ease consequently the fosterer to discouraged pusillanimity: but let such an vnexperiēced plodder knowe, it is as difficult for him to censure of courage, as it is easy for the couragious to scorne his cē ­sure, or indeed rather pittie his ridiculous folly in cēsu­ring, as Hanniball did Phormio, when he would read him a lecture of war, who had euer bin trained in the wars: as if a mild louer may not dally at home in a cabinet, yet the selfe same be a seuere souldier in the field. Let ther­fore euery man of reason, be reasonable in vnderstāding, and where he cānot contradict, confesse that the truth is greatest & chiefly preuaileth, principally when armes will iustifie, what arguments confirme, and arguments againe reciprocally corroborate what armes (on the behalfe of iustice) doth maintaine, and rightly maintaine, that merely of it selfe, Beauty is the maintainer of Valour.

TO THE RIGHT HONO­rable the Earle of Pembroke. Third Position.

Faire Ladie was neuer false.

RIGHT HONORABLE.

THe temperature of the mind follows the temperature of the bodie. Which certaine axiome (sayes that sage Prince of Philosophers Aristotle) is euer more in­fallible. Then doe not I a little maruell, what arrogant spleen of malediction with teeth of iuyceles enuie; durst to detract frō the worthines of Beauty? terming it a par­ticular blessing, bestowed for a more general curse. Ter­ming it fickle, deceitfull, incōstant, when if the sawes of authority be authēticall, nothing can be more precious, nothing in it selfe so vertuous. Faire Ladie was neuer false? Oh sayes some curious impostor, Euge hominem? a good­ly theame? much witt no doubt expected? few proofes produced? who will not sweare the contrary? who will not beleeue the contrarie as his Creed? vaine fondlings, as many as so beleeue, doubtlesse shall be so deceiued; and doe penance for their errour in the gall of their dis­trust. For if the temperature of the mind, follow the tempe­rature of the bodie? (text it is) then without controuer­sie, as the outward shape is more singular, so the inward vertues must be most exquisite. Nature is but the hand­mayd to heauen. Beautie is the rarest workemanship of Natures power. So questionlesse where the hand maid of heauen hath imparted her art, the blessings of the Gods are plentifully abounding. Neither will they make [Page]that lame, which nature hath framed perfect. For why? can falshood lye hidden vnder the raritie of fairnesse? no more than vice can lurke vnder the plumes of ver­tue; which is meerely impossible. Beautie is but a faire Inne to lodge more fairer guests within. It is but the liue­ly colour of an excellent tasting wine. It is the greatest good in it selfe, that heart of humanitie can wish for. If deformitie be the dreg's and scum of earths disgrace? if it be (as it is) the curse of the Parents transgression, layd vpon the child? then contrarily, must beautie be the im­mediate testimonie of heauens fauor? why were people in times past, called Giants & Monsters? but for the vgly appearance of their shapes. Neither were they in body so mishapen, as in conditions odious. So then euen in them it is manifestly verified, that foulest enormities har­bour in fowlest formes, then it followes, that firmest ver­tues, are shrowded in the fairest complexions. Some indeed oppose an argument, that Beauty of it selfe is a great good: but the abuse most wretched & common. Yea, so com­mon, that the very face of beautie is a presumption: yea more, a warrant of inconstancie; to such is easily replyed. Such abuse proceeds not from perfect beautie, but from the adulterate counterfeit of beautie, art. Of this na­ture are those that being intemperately wanton, striue with artificiall cunning, to couer the defects of nature. For true beautie, as it is of it selfe a good, so is it in it selfe simple, innocent, and harmelesse. Into which no thought of vnkindnesse, can penetrate: and being once subiect to loue, can neuer, will neuer be tempted to loosnesse. O strange sayes one! oh heresie cries another; palpably false! falsely absurd; do not Poets the pillars of your folly affirme, that Venus forsooth your only Deity of your pas­sions, the queen of your thoughtts, the boast & goddesse [Page]of your loues, was absolutely false to her husband? else had Cupid been vnborne; Aenoeas vnbegotten. And yet lady was neuer faire & false! was not Helen of Greece made a Troian stale; a scorne to posterities, whose verie name is ominous to cuckolds. Do not all chronicles of antiqui­ty shew? not only that the faire, but the fairest haue proo­ued lightest? and yet faire ladie was neuer false. True, the Poets say so, who being thēselues lasciuiously addicted, thought it great inhumanity, at least iniurie, that Beautie should be ingrost to the proper vse of one alone man. Be­sides if Poets are to be credited, Venus was a Goddesse, not framed by nature, but yssuing from the Gods, & ther­fore aboue humane apprehension. Poets speak truth to warrant their writs, and so was Venus faire, they deuise fi­ctions to approoue their wits; so was she immodest: with this Caueat, that she was Venus, was a troth; that she was trothles, a fiction. Also Helen was counted faire, because many affected her, procur'd by her enticing wantones, inuiting allurements. Curteous I thinke she was, & ther­fore beloued, faire neuer, for then not fickle. Indeed I ac­knowledge, old writers being themselues past the youth of loue, & sunke into dotage, haue inueighed against the dignity of that sex, not vpon knowledg, but mere suppo­sition, deming that because the worst are haunted of the worst for their lewdnes, condemne the fairest for being faire, as the principall inchantment. Now so much diffe­rēce is there, betwixt the wantō & the faire, as the wantō may be beloued, but the faire, wil not be wanton. It is to be supposed, that such as inclined to the loose ficklenesse of change, are not of that excellent temper, oftrue bew­ty, because then they knowing their own merit, (as wo­men of that nature do) wold be by how much the more noted, by so much the more tender of the preseuatiō of [Page]their honors report. And somewhat precizely (pardon troth) prize their own value: Scire tuū nihilest nisi te scire hoc sciat alter. To be faire, & not admired is as a hiddē mi­nerall: yet to be admired, & not preserue that admiratiō, is an vnvalued indignity. But as ladies are fair, so are they wise, & as they are both faire and wise; constant. Alas, most know, & many fele, that bewty is not easily woed to loue; many bitter conflicts, of oppressed griefs, are to be indu­red, ere they are won to listē to affection. And at length being persuaded, they were not so obdurat before to be sued to, as they are now most constant in their loues most sincerely firme to their choice. Experience teacheth it, that stele is not soon hot, yet being once fired, is lesse ea­sily cooled An exāple or two, shal warrant the credit of the rest: who could bee more industrious to his ladie, thā Theseus was in gaining Ariadne? who being conque­red, was euer most fast to him: though iniuriously; yea, perfidiously forsaken of him. Portia so inderely reueren­ced Cato, as she would for his preseruatiō swallow coles. Alcest wold die for Admetus. And Penelope (the mirror of the Greeke matrons, both for constancy & Bewty wold ne­uer falsify her faith to Vlisses. I my self shuld account such proofs inconuenient, did not the proofe of my defence, rely vpon former instances compared both with present & latter times. Diana renowned for beauty, was more re­nowned for chastity, insomuch as singularly, & truly fai­rest ladies cōtended to be her nymphs, if trust to writers may be attributed: rara praeclara: according to the pro­uerbe, that the fairest are the fairest, that is the best & best to be estemed. what is more to be vrged for the ratifying our maintenance: but the exterior beauty, is assurance of the interior quality. To answere to euery vain obiection, that some more nice wits only seeming witty in censure and [Page]misconstruction, is not here intēded, as fronti nulla fides: the ficklenes of Cresseida: the mutability of some Lais: let it suffice, they are fictions & nugatory inuectiues, of deser­uingly abused poets: or repulsed Annalogers, ridiculous in the vnderstanding of the wise: contēptible, in the per­seuerance of vnderstanding. It is euen as impossible for ladies of quaintest formes, to incline to thoughts of troth­les impudēcy, as for monsters of deformity, to produce ef­fects of vertue. Needs there any other demōstration, thē the admirable (almost incredible) ornament of chastity? Lucrece the Roma dame, the paragon of those times, the mirror of those daies, for rauishing perfectiō of beauty: harmeles, vnspotted Lucrece? who did withstand lust to the eternizing her honor, & monumented her rape with extremity of death. who is he to obstinate in his errour? so wilful in his madnes? so mad in his erronius wilfulnes? as would not euen in the glas of Lucresias perseuerāce (e­uē to the vttermost extinct of life) se the wōder of bewty, matched with the indiuiduat adiūct vnsoyled constancy.

Constantia est gemella venustatis indiuidua.

Three particularities there are, that stand firme for this position: examples, already alledged: approbation of iudgment newly rehearsed: and ground of troth now to be verefi'de. verefi'de said I? the self assurance of the subiect, is a testimony most probable, if vice be the nourisher of vice, vertue must be the effect of vertue. that is sincerely a vertue, which is a good, & that good is Beauty, so herein fic­tions comprehēd truth, as forma bonum: yet ere I wade further, & be grauel'd in the ouze, and quick sand of my own intention, I am for the clearing of such, as may mis­conceite my drift, to make an Apology for my defence: neither by my iust iustification, of an apparant verity, the wanton shall taxe my indeuours as ridiculous, knowing [Page]their own imperfections, nor challenge this, as a due be­longing to the encouragmēt of their lenity. I confesse (& blush that occasion should be ministred of confession) that many there are, whose bewitching lookes, drawe youth into folly, and age into dotage, rather madnes: too many there are, whose smooth counterfeit, in the indis­eretion of virility, may passe for Beauty: when the coun­terfeiters, are so mutable, as they are neither euer their own, or euer certaine any on's. yea, euen in great person­ages, this loosnesse is an imboldning, to the meaner: rather a presidēt to the worst of offending: the greatnes of their estates (I speake of some that haue beene) bolstereth out the cōmunity, of licentious immodesty, whose shames were they enameled in the tableture of their foreheads, it would be a hideous visour, to more deformed cōplec­tions, more enormious conditions. Such there are, who vnder the abhomination of luxury, (nicely termed kind­nes) import the pretexted glosse of beauties name, to such are also mercenarye slaues, intimated seruants, against whom, although my purpose is not to inueigh, yet doe I here exclude thē frō out the assotiation of the faire: let those be false, beautifull they are not. In thē the tēperature of the body, follows the tēperature of the mind: not the tempe­rature of the mind, the temperature of the body: Of whom the philosopher insisteth. As I said before, so I here avow that the error of their enchanting amyablenes bewitch­eth their adherents, who being ensnared in the nets of their lasciuiousnes, esteeme that prime beauty which they thēselues deliciously enioy. For as the loose haue no sub­stāce, but fading art to attract, so the excellētly faire, haue no falshood to be soyled; no cunning to beguile; no visor to delude. They are doues without gals; swans without spots, fawnes without spleene: they are simple, & will not [Page]be trained; faire & cannot be tempted: they are the pure colour of white, without staine, whose delicate eares, by prophaned tongues may bee enforced to heare ill, but whose vnmoued breasts, by the fond cannot be en­flamed to consent to il. Herein are the bewtiful said to be Angels on earth, for that as they exceed others in won­der of beauty; so they excell all other in graces of ver­tue: it shall not be amisse, to answere to the maleuolent will of some witty maleuolent detractors.

Aduerse.
Women. ô they are fickle falling starres:
Tydes in their ebbes, Moones euer in the wayne,
Frost in the thawe, saint hearted in the wars
Of constancy, yet constant in disdaine.
Women! ô they are creatures most vnholly:
Borne for a scourge to men, and curbe to folly.
Mulieri ne credas, ne mortuae quidem.
Proofe.
Women! why they are fixed lamps of heauen,
Shining bright lustre to the hearts of men.
Firme diamonds, and faire, bright lookes, hearts euen:
Constant in scorne of motions, where and when
Princes for ladies praise haue fell at odds,
They are of men ador'd, belou'd of Gods:
The highest blessing, that to earth's vncommon,
Is mans perfection, soule of life, a woman.
Dijs compares foeminae.

Euery faire lady is louely, but euery louely ladye is not faire: so then the louely may be fickle, but the faire cannot be inconstant: what should I more say; and yet what haue I saide that is inough? what, that can bee too much? and yet is not to much? since the only experiēce of the sub­iect, cōmendeth his own worthines. To such thē as cre­dit it, I wish thē a faire lady: to misbeleuers & infidels in loue this curse: may their ladies be foule, and so be loath­some, yet false, and repay them with the common crest [...]

TO THE RIGHT Honourable the Earle of Mountgomery. The fourth and last Position.

Perfect louers are onely wise.

Right Honourable,

PErspicax est amatorum vigilans ocellus, praeuidet aduersa, studet horis conuenientibus. A perfect louer is neuer lesse idle, then when he is idle: neuer more busied, then when least seriously imployed.

Wise seeming Censors count that labour vaine,
Which is deuoted to the hopes of loue,
When they themselues, themselues much vainer proue,
By holding Louers labours in disdaine:
They haue forgot the wiles which made them tremble,
In heat of youth, when youth their bloods did moue,
What wit they vse'd, what teares they did dissemble.
Their now waxt shallow apprehensions, then
Were quick to see the worst, wise to preuent it:
How they pleas'd fancie, how they might content it,
How much their hearts differ'd from hearts of men:
How prouident they were to fawne, to flatter,
To sweare, vow, vrge their griefe and to lament it:
Alas who would not doo't in such a matter.
Loue makes men wise, 'tis not a feeling kisse,
That's the true sport, ther's sport more sweet then this:
To which, ere louers throughly doe attaine,
They must attend, doe seruice, grieue, and faine.
For this with Ladies honours best doth fit,
Not to be conquered by Desire, but Witt.

In all ages, both past and present, neuer haue there beene more witty pollicies, more politicke circumuentions broached then in speedie obtaining of delatorie loue: which is in it selfe so vrgent, so impatient of delayes, as the soundest sleights, quaintest deuises, haue beene studied for accomplishing, of rest to vnrest, ease to dis­quiet, remedy to desperation. Three things triall hath taught to be expedient for mastery in loue. After choice, Patience to indure reproofes, Witt to procure content, Boldnesse to attempt at opportunities. Vaine is patience without hope: hope desperate without meanes: meanes, when occasion proffers her forelock, and women tole­ration: hinderance, without boldnesse. Yet boldnesse without witte, is to no vse, neither without witte shall time be euer found when to be bold. In a perfect louer therefore, all these three are iudicially cohered. Also if a curious surueior will vpon this approue, that louers haue beene witty, yet disallow any wisedom in this witt, by distinguishing a different discrepancie betwixt witt and wisdome, since the one tendeth onely to folly of huma­nity, the other to consideration of diuinity, I will answer, that perfect Louers, euen in this respect are perfectly wise, as with ease thus: being ouercome with the affection, of some excellently deseruing beauty, with admitation of [Page]the singular perfection thereof, with what curious work­manship it is framed, with what glorye of Maiesty it is endowed: it is an immediate occasion, to bring them in serious cōceit, of weighing the wōders of the heauens in compacting such admirable quintessence, in so pre­cious a forme, by which they will deepely reuolue the dignitye of GOD in that mould, and truely ac­knowledge the weakenesse of their owne nature, in comparison of Beauty. This is the ready and directest course, to force men to consider their owne frailty, and magnifie the omnipotency of their creator, in fashioning both. So as Loue is the onely line which leadeth man to the font of Wisedome; that is, to the gloryfying of heauens power, and confessing mans imbecillity. Who then can deny? who will not allowe? that Perfect Louers are onely wise? onely wise! true, for men deuoted to contemplati­on of Theologie, are withdrawne from the absolute, & due reuerence (somtime) of him to whome they chiefly owe all due reuerence, by humane affaires: when Louers haue euermore the Idea of Peauty in their imaginations, and therefore hourely do adore their makers Architec­ture. Perfect Louers are onely wise: now againe to huma­nity: the dullest wit, the most vnseasoned capacity, being once salted with the tast of loue, sharpens his dulnesse, and seasons his capacity, to study any slieght, any deuice for setting a period to his desires. Insomuch, as no time shall euer present any oportunity of study, but all inuen­tion is vsed, all conceiptes imployed, for the fruition of his beloued: who beeing inioyed, yet his wittes are neuer idle, but industrious for conseruation of what hee inioyes, as loath to impart from that [Page]which with so much vigilancie he not easily obtained. As hitherto I haue proceeded with demonstration of ex­amples: so now (to the purpose) will I inferre an instance, to the more effectuall proofe of this. The Greekes after the discursion of Helen, preparing an expedition against Troy, both for acquittance of their iniury, and recouery of their false (neuer truly faire) Queene, stood not in more need of Achilles for his courage, then of Vlisses for his counsaile: who being then newly married, to his per­fectly faire Penelope, was vpon good cause (moued in the tendernesse of his loue) vnwilling to that action: but ex­cuse could not preuaile, except pollicie could finde ex­cuse: he feares much, but loues more, which loue euen at an instant ripens his inuention: Loue ripeneth his inuen­tion, he faines madnesse, and for madnesse to aduise in sober actions, would proue but a mad aduise, an vnaduised mad­nesse. but he was discouered and went. Secondly, what vndoubted wisedom in him, did charme his eares, against the incantations of the Syrens: the deuoute affection which he bore to his Penelope, quickning his apprehensi­on. Was euer man a truer louer? and euer man more truly wise? It is infallibly certaine, certainly infallible, perfect louers are onely wise. Now it may be cauelled, that that cannot be, for how can Louers be wise, when Loue it selfe is both vaine, idle, and foolish? a toye? a meere con­ceit of fancie? But how vaine, foolish, idle, and fantasti­call are they that so conceiue? Loue is the onely band, the alone obligation, that traffiques betwixt earthly crea­tures and heauenly Angels, that vnites woman to man, yea man to man, nay man to himselfe, and himselfe to God. Loue is the dignity of mans worth, not a blind Cupid, a sensual lust, as Poets faine: but an earnest and reaso­nable [Page] desire of good, as authorities confirme. It is an entire conuinction of soules together.

Mutua sors animi, pia commutatio mentis,
sub fido fidum est pectore pignus Amor.
Quid magis est placidum? nihil est faelicius illo;
Pax iucunda, manus splendida, tuta quies.
Fulget in auricoma nitido cum robore forma:
Ipsa suasplendens gaudet Amore Venus.
Loue is that tickling blood, which softly creepes,
Into the pleasures of a quiet brest:
Presenting pretty drcames in flumbring sleepes,
Andin a Ladies boosome takes his rest.
Loue bath's him in the channell of delight,
Which louers sigh for, and wish they also might.
Of twenty thousand 't is the wittiest passion,
Wise, in foreseeing of ensuing care:
Makes louers prouident, yeelds consolation,
And checks the bad from ill, if so they dare.
Loue is that fountaine, where the springs do lye,
Whence sweetest waters run, yet neuer drie.
Loue is that harmlesse prick, in pleasant brier.
Which doth most please the sent, and breed desire.

Thus much for satisfaction of the witty. Now briefly followes for a conclusion to the wise. Louers are perfect wise, and simply perfect: indeed absolutely perfect, inso­much as nothing is more expedient to the full accom­plishment of a wise man, then to be a Louer. Now would any man seeme to oppose himselfe, to the aduerse maintaining of what hath already been prooued? it will [Page]be euident, he shall more toyle his braines to affirme an vntroth, then the praise or commendation hee expects, with a generall Plaudite will counteruaile. If any cham­pion will likewise be desperate hardy, to vndertake a dis­allowance, of these chaliēged positions, question-lesse he neede not doubt, but he shall not soner be armed, but as soone foyled, and in the vulgar confession of shame, ac­knowledge his deerely bought wilfulnesse. But I leaue that to triall. I heere meane to be a pen man, no cham­pion.

Conclusion.

WOuld any man be gracious in a Ladies fauour? let him then subiect himselfe to her wil. Would any be valiant and renowned for chiualty? let him serue vnder the colours of beauty. Would any striue to be blessed in hauing a Lady truly constant? let him choose her truly faire. Would any be perfectly wise? let him be perfectly louing. Would any be happy? couragious? singular? or prouident? let him be a louer. In that life consisteth all happinesse, all courage, all glory, all wisdome. But as for such, who doe frigescere ad ignem, I do desist to inueigh against their cold spirits: onely in this, I hate them, that I pitty them.

He who will striue to please each curious eye,
Must freeze in sdence. But I care not I,
Let better fauours fauour mine indeuour,
The vulgartaunting shall affright me neuer.
May it please you, to whom it is intended.
Then
T'is glory to deserue, though not commended.
Non omnibus studeo.
non maleuolis.
FINIS

THE Monarchs meeting, Or The King of Denmarkes welcome, into England.

NOw had the haruest of the yeare brought forth,
The blessed frute of long expected hope,
And leueld with the toile of labours worth,
The crop of fatnesse, to the trad's-mans scope.
Now were the blossomes ripened to the hand,
Of well deseruing sweat: when all anon,
The mighty ruler of a peacefull land,
Began to take his wisht progression.
Calme was the sea, and gentle gustes did blow,
A whistling gale vnto the flagges of peace:
Full were the streames, and smooth soft tides did flow,
And gaue assurance of contented ease.
When on the bubbling beauty of fayre Thames,
(Vrg'd by the princely loue of amitie)
A Christian King, in state, and maiestie,
Was entertain'd with sundry showes of games.
The siluer Christall streame, was proud to beare,
The burthen of a person, each way graced,
With all the rites of humane Loue and Feare,
In whose high lookes, honour was liuely placed.
Much welcome was the tydings of this newes,
Vnto the royall eare of worthy Iames:
Preparing with all speed, that speed might vse,
With his owne presence to ennoble Thames.
Looke how did Ioue salute the minor Gods,
Inuiting all in heauen at a feast,
Where no more awe was reuerenc'd, no odds,
Betwixt his proper person and the rest.
So did these Princes meet, in whose first meeting,
Ioy was aboundant in the truce of loue:
Each inter-changing a concordant greeting,
Which in the peeres of both did comfort moue.
Ambitious was the riuer of this honour,
Knowing the value of the weight she bore:
Grac'd that such fauour Kings bestow'd vpon her,
Bearing a richer burthen nere before.
Kings met, and Kings saluted one another,
Eyther reioycing in the others sight:
Princes with Princes, brother ioy'd with brother,
Each solacing the other with delight.
A goodly view of Maiestie it was,
To see such intimated league betwixt them:
They striu'd in kindnesse how they might surpasse,
Sporting the season which the tide prefixt them.
Like to a Prince in euery point aright,
He came, and like a Prince was entertained:
With all the tipes of dignity bedight,
with all the friendship, friendship could haue claimed.
O what a gladsome sight of ioy it is?
When monarches so are linkt in amitie?
How strengthened are those Empires with safe blisse,
Where two such Princes ioyne in vnitie?
Great both are in dominions, yet more great,
In being vertuously religious:
Fresh blooming piety doth praise beget,
In godly zeale. Let tyrants be litigious?
What He amongst the stoutest of contempt?
Full in command? and fuller in disdaine?
Durst any threats of en'mity attempt?
Or to oppose himselfe against those twaine?
Those twaine! so firmly are they matcht together,
So euerlastingly affectionate.
So indiuidually combin'd together,
As they loue none of both, who do one hate.
Power with power, realme with realme vnited,
hearts ioyn'd with hearts, and hand imbrac'd in hand:
Should all the world of nations be excited,
Yet all the world could scarse those two withstand.
Nor is it faining shew of smooth pretext,
But doubtlesse troth of loue which brought him hither:
Let none with such suspition be perplext,
For then they neuer had thus come together.
Nor can it be suppos'd, a Prince so mighty,
so worthy in himselfe, so absolute.
Who hath so large a rule, a charge so weighty,
would leaue his countrie, but for meere repute.
Puissant is the Danish King, and strong,
In all the sinews of approued force:
Valiant, and able, for to right the wrong,
That should proceed from any eager course.
It is no common thing seene euery day,
Scarce in an age, to see so great a state:
From out his countries boundes to come away,
For visitation of an neighbouring mate.
It is no common honour, that is done
Vnto our happy land by his arriuing:
Much worth thereby, and glory haue we won,
Our home-bred hearts, with stranger loues reuiuing.
Two Kings in England haue beene rarely seene,
Two Kings for singularitie renowned:
The like before hath hardly euer beene,
for neuer were two with more honour crowned.
This may we boast, and after times report,
How much the King of Denmarke grac'd our age:
A King of so much eminence, such port,
By his arriuall did his loue ingage.
England with Denmarke, Denmarke eke with vs,
Are firmely now in league, conioyned in one:
Seauen Kingdomes now againe vnited, thus
Are strength'ned, so as stronger can be none.
Then as a certaine and welwishing greeting,
We thus applaud the monarchs happy meeting.
HAyle Princely stemme of great magnificence?
Issue of royall blood, who dost commence
True instance of thy fast vndoubted loue,
And by thy comming certainely approue
The pledge of peace, thus low in humblest heart
Regreetes vnto thy truce doe we impart.
With fit applause our thankes deuoutly running,
Giues welcome to the honour of thy comming.
Time cannot rase, nor amity surcease
Betwixt our realme and thine a long liu'd peace.
Whiles thoughts are vndefil'd, and credit true,
From age to age this league will still renue.
And thou thy selfe (great King of Danes wilt ioy,
Counting the hazards which thou didst imploy
Daungers of thankes: by tasting approbation
Of spotlesse friendship with our willing nation.
We are not subtile French, to fawne and flatter:
Nor Spaniards hot in shew, yet cold in matter.
Trothlesse Italian fleeting Irish wiles,
(Whose trust when most protesting most beguiles)
We deeme dishonour. Germaine policies,
Or euer changing Indian sopperies
We spurne. Know we are English hating wrongs,
Bearing our thoughts decipher'd in our tongs.
Rather the sunne may in his courses alter,
Then we in true-meant trust our promise faulter:
Which of our chiefest emulating foes
Can iustly taxe vs? but we euer chose
To die with fame, then liue with infamy,
Purchas'd with disesteemed trechery.
What needs an instance? rumor will auow,
VVe haue our troth ingrauen in our brow.
"Who are in nature, false ye free in name,
"Are seruile slaues to feare, and fooles to shame.
VVhat more? we are thy friends, and thou art our,
Thy loue is ours, and our force thy power.
Long may this happy thred of faith be wouen,
And nere haue dissolution but with heauen.
Fatall and ioyous doth the knot begin,
Then who doth breake it first, commits first sin.
Lo then great monarch, with what words of zeale,
Thy comming wee imbrace, and hopes reueale
Of linkt coniunction: prest to gratifie
That loue, which thou with loue dost ratifie.
Here speakes the clamour of a publicke voyce,
Which speaking, all do publikely reioyce
Thy safe arriuall: England thankes the honour,
Which by thy presence thou bestowest vpon her.
Sounding lowd Ecchoes of thy Kingly fame,
And making trophees, to adorne thy name.
The Clarions breath thy welcome, Bells do ring,
Praise shoutes, whiles all thy friends thus sweetly sing.

The applause Song for the King of Denmarkes arriuall.

IN the most happy season of the yeare,
When fayrest sun-shine glistered on the earth,
The royall King of Denmarke did appeare,
And tun'd the hearts of England full with mirth:
In goodly maiesty, and princely cheere,
Euen in the fullest crop of haruest's birth:
When birdes with pleasant notes did sweetly sing,
To giue a hearty welcome to the King.
Prettily, prettily,
With musick sweet,
Did Philomele merily,
and ioyfully,
and euer prettily,
The noble King of Denmarke greet.
Welcome to England, Prince of high degree,
And all our song shall euer welcome be.
Our King himselfe reioyced in his sight,
His presence to the Court did breed delight,
Blithe was the country, and the Citty proud.
Cornets with trumpets, shrill did blow, and lowd.
To welcome to our land,
With hearty greeting:
(By our Kings command)
The Monarches meeting.
Which we fulfilling,
With loue and mindes willing,
Ioyn'd together,
Welcome hither,
Friendly,
and euer
kindly,
The Danish King, a Prince of high degree,
For all our song shall euer welcome bee.
To welcome all our notes, and loue doth tend,
In that sence we began, with that we end.
Cantibus & carmine.
FINIS.

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