The Flower Of Fame.  
Containing the bright Renown, & most fortunate reign of King Henry the viii. Wherein is mentioned of matters, by the rest of our chronographers overpassed.  
Compiled by Ulpian Fulwell.  
¶ Hereunto is annexed (by the Author) a short treatise of three noble and virtuous Queens. And a discourse of the worthy service that was done at Hadington in Scotland, the second year of the reign of king Edward the sixth.  
Vivit post funera virtus.  
1575. Imprinted at London in Fleet street, at the Temple gate by William Hoskins.   

To the right honourable and his singular good lord, sir William Cecil Baron of Burghleygh, Knight of the most noble order of the Garser, Lord high Treasurer of England, master of the courts of wards and Liveries, Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, and one of the Queen's majesties privy Counsel, Ulpian Fullwell wisheth long health with increase of honour.  
Being at stryse with myself, (Right honourable) whether I might presume to exhibit the dedication of this my unpolished labour unto your good Lordship or not, I was as often abashed as I viewed the homeliness of my style, and eftsoons utterly discomfited. But contrary wise, while I considered with myself (as it were weighing in the other Balance) your noble nature in accepting the good will of the giver above the valour of the gift, I am again recomforted, And in the end of this conflict, the noble courtesy of your honour won in me the victory: whereupon I was not only emboldened myself, humbly to desire your L. Patronage, but also (as much as in me lay) encouraged my Author, master Edmund Harman, to offer unto you the gross fruits of this our labours. The matter meriteth the Pen of the best writer, although it hath now happened to the hands of an uneloquent compiler. But if it may please your honour to accept the protection hereof, I doubt not but both the matter, and the worthiness of the Patron, will stir up some of exquisite skill to furnish my defect by the renewing of this my begun attempt. Which I confess to be by me taken in hand, more willingly then wittily, respecting more the truth of the works then the eloquence of words. Thus ceasing to trouble your good Lordship any longer at this present with my rough and ragged style, In most humble wise I submit myself and this my slender travail, unto your honour, praying almighty God to preserve and prospero you in all your noble affairs to the great comfort of this Realm.  
Your honours most humble, Ulpian Fulwell.   

A Table of the contents of this book.  

A Commendations of King Henry's noble virtues. Fol. 1  
A Resitall of King Henry's fortunate reign. 2  
A brief discourse of the uniting the two noble houses of Lancaster and York. From which united house, King Henrye was the first king that proceeded. 4  
Of the Battle fought at Bosworth between King Henry the seventh and king Richard. 8  
Of the birth of King Henry the eight. 10  
Of King Henry the eight in the time of his minority. 12  
Of his riding to the Tower of London before his Coronation. 13  
Of his Coronation. 14  
Of the winning of Turwin and Turney. 16  
The History of King james of Scotland that was slain at Branxston field. And of his lamentation. 22  
The History of King jamies' son, who after the death of his father was king of Scots being but a child. That took his death after the overthrow of his men at Solomos, and of his Complaint. 24  
How the Kings of England and of France met at Morguison. An. 1532. 29  
Of the winning of Bulloyne. 32  
Of the death of King Henry the eight. 36  
An Epitaph of his death. 37  
A Treatise of three noble & virtuous Queens. 39  
The History of the noble service that was at Hadington in Scotland. 49  
A Commendation of the English Soldiers that served at this siege of Hadington, with the Captains' names, as near as could be called to remembrance. 56    

To the friendly Reader Ulpian Fullwell wisheth health.  
THE wise & sage Philosopher Solon, noting the insolency of Croesus, who esteemed himself the happiest man living, because of his abundant wealth, told him, that no man is to be reputed happy during his life time, because he knoweth not whether it shall end with renown or infamy. Concluding hereby, that a goodly life, & a godly death maketh a perfect happy man.  
Now, seeing our late sovereign Lord King Henrye the eight, hath hit the mark of true felicity, and won the game of joyful immortality: what ruth were it, that so singular an example should not be recorded in the golden book of perpetual Fame. His noble life, his Godly proceedings, his invicted reign, his fortunate success, his whole race of life, and end of the same, deserveth to be engraved in letters of pure Gold. If Alexander (the mighty Monarch of Macedon) was offended with a Schoolmaster in whose School he found not the fame of Ulysses (written by Homer) how much more may we deem he would check and reprove all english Gentlemen, that lay not before their faces the book of King Henry's life, if he were now amongst us. But happily it will be said unto me, Sir, if you wear as good an english Poet as Homer was in Greek: or if the worthiness of your style were comparable to the matter, we would the better esteem of your work. If that be thy objection (gentle Reader) I cannot excuse myself. For I confess I have not the gift of flowing eloquence, neither can I interlace my phrase with Italian terms, nor powder my style with french English or Inkhorn Rhetoric, neither couch my matter under a cloak of curious inventions, to feed the dainty ears of delicate younkers. And as I cannot: So if I could, I would not. For I see that many men are so affected with these premises, that many good matters are obscured, the Authors encumbered, the works but meanly commended, and the Reader deceived. For while he coveteth to come to the purpose, he is lead amasked in the wild Desert of circumstance and digression, seeking far and finding little, feeding his humour on pleasant words of slender weight, guided (or rather giddyed) with plaucible eloquence.  
I do not herein condemn, neither discomende the noble Science of rhetoric, nor the eloquent Rhethoritian, but rather wish that excellent skill to be employed only on such matters as may both commend the speaker, and the thing spoken, or the writer and the thing written: having always the chief respect to time & place. For as it would sound very absurd to the ears of the skilful physician to hear a galliard, or any other dance played on the solemn Organs: So no less contrary is it, to dance after an Hymn or other cunning voluntary. Thus (gentle Reader) I desire at thy hands, that thou accept the matter, & bear with my crabbed meeter. Considering well that often times is found good graffs upon a Crab tree stock. Take then the fruit, and accept my good william. And if thou list bestow any filing upon the roughness of my phrase, I shall be beholding unto thee. If not, yet shall my desire be satisfied with thy good word.  
Vlpianus Fulwell.   

Ulpian Fulwell to his Book.  

WHen lusty Ver begins to deck  
each bush and bow with green:  
And Flora fair in flaunting wise  
is gorgeous to be seen:   

Then Nature's Imps triumphs with joy  
till hoary Hyemps' frown:  
Whose frosty face with blasts bedewde  
Turns all these upsydown.   

His stormy stoutness drives the birds  
their warbling notes to cease:  
He keeps as captive, flowers fair,  
till spring do them release.   

Yet can his visage not prevail  
The Flower of Fame to vade:  
Whose growing green shall not be shut  
in grisly winter's shade.   

As Hedera with haughty head  
doth scorn sir Boreas' blast:  
Even so this pierlesse Flower of Fame  
shall stand as firm and fast.   

Out of which stately Blossom breeds  
a Bud of Eglantine 
Note.   
Whose worthiness adorns the stock  
of nature's noble line.   

Not every whiffling taunting wind  
that flies from scornful tongue:  
shall shake the stalk, ne yet the Flower  
to do it any wrong.   

For why (my book) thy Patron's name  
Such noble sound doth yield:  
That thou mayst think thyself well blessed,  
to shroud under his shield.   

Before whose feet, we both will lie  
and hope such grace to find:  
That we with joy may pass abroad  
to please thy Readers mind.   
Which thing God grant.   

In Vlpiani Fulwelli operis laudem Richardi Coppoci Carmen.  

SI tibi cognitio rerum, si nuntia veri,  
Possideant aliquem pectore pressa locum,  
Si studium pacis, seu te laus inclyta belli  
Incitet: huc celerem ferto referto pedem,  
Hic res non rerum species, hic vivida virtus:  
Hic flos conspicuus, conspicienda ferens.  
Non hic aiacis flos est Telamone creati  
Qui domino dignum nil nisi nomen habet  
Nec flos quo Phoebus genutus inscripsit acerbos,  
Cum suus Oebalides, morte peremptus erat,  
Sed flos hic famae merito regalis habendus,  
Henrici octavi regia facta ferens  
Fulwello meritas igitur persoluite grates  
Florem virtutis praemia justa manent.    

The Flower of Fame.  

A manifest description of king Henry's noble virtues.  

PRepare your pens ye Poets fine,  
Your wits & curious heads now show:  
In filed phraes of flowing rhyme,  
Your stately styles do ye bestow,  
On him whose fame right far doth fly,  
and lodged is in starry Sky.   

To whom while life in corpse did last,  
The mighty Ceasar would give place,  
The conquerors of worlds past,  
may yield unto King Henry's grace.  
whose only name was such a shield  
As feared his foreign foes in field.   

His kingly Majesty was such,  
As joyed each faithful subjects heart:  
And Rebels proud he foret to couch,  
By dint of Sword to feel the smart.  
A second Alexander he,  
In valianties appeerde to be.   

And that which Princes best beseems,  
God's glory he did much advance:  
Repressing Error that had been  
of many years continuance. 
The chiefest thing belonging to a king is to set forth gods glory.   
This was his chief joy and delight,  
Whereby God's gospel shineth bright.   

His careful head in this respect,  
A chair of state in heaven hath won:  
Where he soiurnes with the elect,  
A mate with heavenly father's son.  
whose seat is set in lasting bliss,  
and crowned with crown that endless is.   

The four Virtues were so well  
within his sacred breast yfraught:  
Too simple is my pen to tell  
the gifts that nature to him taught.  
My skilless quill is far too base,  
To paint the prudence of his grace.   

A Solomon for Godly wit.  
A Solon for his constant mind: 
A mirror for all Princes.   
A Samson when he list to hit  
the fury of his foes unkind.  
Unto his friends a gentle Lam,  
A Prince that loud a valiant man.   

Whom God by divers means did bless,  
As one well worthy of the same:  
With victory for to repress  
His enemies to his great fame.  
And many years to rule and rain,  
To England's joy, to scotland's pain.   

Yea, and a blessing more than this,  
That doth right far surmount the rest:  
Which is to English hearts a bliss,  
wherewith this happy Realm is blest. 
Elizabeth Queen.   
His daughter doth him so revive,  
as though the Father were alive.   

In whom such virtues rare are seen,  
As makes far countries marvel much:  
That she a virgin and a Queen.  
In godliness and wit is such.  
Though life from father be exiled.  
His gifts are left unto his child.   

As worthy Prince, by due descent,  
The regal Sceptre for to guide:  
And Christ his foes for to prevent,  
By Godly zeal she doth provide.  
The father's steps she treads so right,  
As doth each English heart delight.   

So that though Royal Henry be  
Returned to earth from whence he came:  
Elizabeth, yet may we see,  
doth beautify her father's fame.  
Whom God preserve in Regal seat,  
Till Nestor's years be full complete    

A brief resitall of king Henry's Fortunate reign.  
AMong the most fortunate kings & Princes that ever reigned: let the Fortunes of king Henry the eight have a special place, whose happy success in all his affairs was comparable unto the events of the mighty conqueror king Phillip's son of Macedon. There were in his time reigning more puissant Princes together, then ever were living in any age before, and yet among them all, not one of them equal to the King of England iin prows. In so much that the jews were in good hope that one of these noble Champions should be ordained of God to be their Messiah, whose coming they have long in vain expected, refusing the true Messiah and saviour of the world jesus Christ, looking for a Champion to bring them home again unto their destroyed jerusalem.  
These were the names of the most famous governors of the world at that time. first Henry king of England. The Emperor Maximilian. And Francis the French king, with the valiant Princes that then were in Germany, and Selimus the Emperor of Turkey, with Barbarossa his great captain, besides a number more, mentioned by Paulus iovius & other good Authors. And among them all, the same of king Henry shined far brighter than the rest, as hereafter followeth. But first I will note of the bliss and happiness that came unto England by his birth. It is manifest that he was the first branch of the tree of concord, after the anyting of the two noble houses of Laucaster and York, that long had been at dissension & open hostility for the imperial Diadem of this realm. For although his brother Prince Arthur were the elder, yet because he lived not to enjoy his father's signiories, neither left behind him any Issue: I reckon him that brought forth the fruit to be the chief and principal branch. He was also elect and chosen of God to be that Ezechias that should sinsearly set forth his sacred laws. Yea he was the very Hercules that was borne to subdue the Romish Hydra, against which many-headed monster, neither king nor Keysar could prevail, until this puissant Hercules took the matter in hand, to the glory of God, and his perpetual fame. He was also endued by God with invincible Fortitude, always prevailing with glorious victory. And like as when moses 
Exod. 17.  held up his Rod the Israelites had the better hand, and while he held down the same their enemies had hope of victory. So likewise on whose side so ever king Henry held up his Sword, that part had alway prosperous success. As the wars between the Emperor Charles the fifth, and Francis the French king may sufficiently show. Moore over the like blessing of God happened unto him, as seldom, or (rather I think) never chanced unto any king. For where as he having three children and no more, at his departure out of this world: they have all three succeeded the father. Not as private persons, but successively in the regal seat: Governing his lands and territories. Also his noble magnanimity was such, that he being Lord of Ireland, was by the Earls, Lords & Peers of the same Realm, desired to take upon him the name of their king. And they of their own accords, (in the name of the whole Realm of Ireland) did unto him Homage and Fealty.  
Besides all this, when Maximilian the Emperor was dead, the Prince's Electors of the Empire of Rome, with general consent, committed their full authority of Election, for the space of four days unto king Henry, either to take the Empire himself, or else to nominate whom he would, who thankfully accepted their good wills, rendering unto them again their authority, and refusing to be Emperor himself. Thus we may say (and that truly) that he won a kingdom without battle or bloodshed. And he was of power, not only to be an Emperor, but also to make an Emperor. And thus I may boldly assever, that he was blest of God above all kings and Princes that ever I have read of. And happy was that Prince that might stand most in his favour. For the which divers made great suit, & specially when they stood in need of aid against their enemies, because they perceived that Fortune followed his power, as handmaid to all his proceedings. A rare example (no doubt) it is, & me seemeth most strange, that one king should reign 38. years, and that (almost) in continual wars, and never take foil, but always prevailed as a victor invicted, which without the assistance of almighty God, he could never have achieved.  
An evident token that God was on his side, and therefore who could stand against him.  
But to writ at large of his worthiness and incomparable acts, would fill a bog volume, and were too great a charge for my unskilful pen.  
Finally, he was a Prince of singular Prudence, of passing stout courage, of invincible Fortitude, of dexterity wonderful. He was a springing well of Eloquence, a rare spectacle of Humanity. Of civility or good nurture, an absolute precedent.  
A special pattern of Clemency and moderation, a worthy example of Regal Justice. A bottomless spring of largesse and benignity. He was in all the honest Arts and Faculties profoundly seen. In all liberal disciplines, equal with the best. In no kind of literature, unexpert. He was to the world an ornament. To England a treasure. To his friends, a comfort. To his foes, a terror.  
To his faithful and loving Subjects, a tender Father. To Innocents, a sure Protector. To wilful malefactors, a sharp scourge. To his Common weal and good people, a quiet Haven and Aucor of safeguard. To the disturbers of the same, a Rock of Extermination. In heinous and intolerable crimes against the common wealth, a sevear judge. In the like offences committed against himself, a ready port and refuge of mercy, except to such as would persist incorrigibly. A man he was in all gifts of nature, of Fortune, and of grace, pierles. And to conclude, a man above all praises. Such a king did God set to reign over England, whereof this Realm may well vaunt above other nations, whose worthiness is more treated of by foreign writers, then by any of our own country men. Which may justly redound to the reproach of all our English Poets and Historiographers.   

¶ A Discourse of the uniting the two noble houses of Lancaster & York, from which united house, king Henry was the first king that proceeded.  

WHen mighty jove from heavenly throne,  
Beheld the bloody broil,  
That Mars had made through civil sword,  
within this country soil.  
And pitying the ruthful rage  
that on this Realm did rain:  
Most lovingly did bend his ears,  
to hear our moan and plain.   

The earth that erst was brewed with blood,  
beginneth now to joy: 
By the Boar is meant k. Richard.   
The Boar is chased that was wont  
this Realm so to annoyed.   

The Lady Concord came from Heaven,  
To stablish this decree:  
That Lancaster & York henceforth,  
united shall agreed.   

Meethought I heard the golden words  
That Concord did recite:  
And eke me seemed mine eyes beheld,  
This noble heavenly wight.   

Who pierced the Skies with warbling wings,  
and Sceptre in her hand:  
Upon her head a Diadem  
ycompast with a band.   

Whereat my mind was all amazed,  
To muse I could not cease:  
Till at the last I might perceive,  
It was the band of peace.   

Her face as bright as Phoebus' beams,  
Her hears, like burnished Gold: 
Concord a heavenly wight.   
Her feature like an Angel shape,  
As joyed me to behold.   

With comely grace she did command  
that silence should be sinned:  
To rule the press that then was there,  
Till she had said her mind.   

When all waswhusht, and every man  
with listening ears was bend:  
To hear her speak, then with these words,  
she showed forth her intent.   

O noble land, since first the time  
that Brutus in thee did reign: 
The words of lady Concord unto England.   
Whose line intestine war did end,  
As fame doth yet remain.   

Turmoiled and tossed with civil Sword,  
Thou sundry times hast been:  
Such was thy lot and such mishap,  
as yet in thee is seen.   

Thy noble pears have yield their souls  
When fatal Sword had slain:  
Unto the Theatre of jove  
on Mars for to complain.   

Thy vulgar sort in hugy heaps  
do press their plaints to show:  
With humble suit that perfect peace,  
in English land may grow.   

And jove that long have rued thy case,  
hath sent me for to cease  
These bloody broils, and now to turn  
thy war to perfect peace.   

Where discord reigns and breeds debate,  
Subversion is at hand:  
And daily proof doth show that  
hate confoundeth many a land.   

Let Trojans testify the same,  
Let Priam's witness bear:  
What signory cannot bring forth  
Examples bought too dear.   

Desire of rule doth often times dim 
Ambition an enemy to all common wealths.   
And clips the fame and life:  
When Subjects touch the Prince's seat,  
by sowing seed of strife.   

The Roman rout can well declare,  
The smart of Pompey's broil:  
Numidia remembreth well,  
The brunt of jugurthes' spoil.   

With thousands more, whom to recite,  
were time but vainly spent:  
But right shall sit in Regal seat,  
The Tyrant to prevent.   

And God that all these turmoils views,  
at last will work his will,  
When false usurper shall take foil,  
then right shall flourish still.   

To thee (o famous Realm) I speak,  
whose brute doth pierce the Skies:  
Which for thy wealth, the Heavenly hest,  
This order doth devise.   

And I, of jove the messenger,  
this news now bring to thee:  
With band of Peace, as faithful pledge,  
If thou thereto agreed.   

What loss and languor thou hast had,  
Thyself caused witness best:  
And Mischief hath not spared to spurn,  
To purchase thy unrest.   

Wherefore the God that guides all things,  
doth charge thee that with speed  
Thou join in knot of Marriage,  
as thus he hath decreed.   

There is a land in Western soil,  
That Britain hath to name:  
Which coast doth now retain the wight  
that must thy quiet frame:   

A proper youth, of pregnant wit, 
A description of k. Henry the seven.   
To whom with speed repair:  
Of Lancaster that noble house,  
He is the rightful heir.   

His Princely port doth well deserve,  
To wear thy Regal Crown:  
By due descent to wield the Sword,  
with fame and bright renown.   

This worthy wight shall turn the war  
That long thy wealth hath waste:  
This Earl Henry shall redress  
Thy wailing woe forepast.   

Now see the sequel of this hest,  
That God appointed hath:  
Mark well the mean against Sir Mars,  
To pacify his wrath.   

A noble spouse within thy land,  
Of right must now be found:  
To link in sacred wedlocks state,  
And Queen for to be crowned.   

Behold a Virgin bright of hue  
with virtues force bedecked:  
Of parsonage surpassing all  
that Nature hath elect,   

Diana's peer for chastity,  
A second Susan she:  
Her godly nature well deserves  
A Goddess for to be.   

The daughter of a Royal king,  
That rewlde thy land of late:  
The heir of York, that long hath been  
with Lancaster at bate.   

Elizabeth this Lady height,  
The late king Edward's child: 
The daughter of king Edw. 4.   
she shall bring forth a peerless Prince,  
thy people for to shield.   

Now sith these houses twain hath caused  
Such ruin for to reign:  
Which bloody broil hath forced thee  
to feel the smart and pain.   

With speed repair to Britain land  
This Henry home to call:  
And place him in thy regal seat,  
Be ye his Subjects all.   

As for his Foes take ye no fear,  
For God his friend doth stand:  
He is anointed of the Lord,  
to rule thy famous land.   

Which being done,  
let sacred state 
The end of lady concord's Oration.  of Wedlock join these twain:  
Then be thou sure in perfect peace,  
hereafter to remain.   

When Concord had these words rehearsed  
and all her message told:  
To see the joy that men did make,  
was wonder to behold.   

With clapping hands and cheerful shouts  
They showed forth great delight:  
And thought each day to be a year,  
till he should come in sight.   

And when that Fame had blown her blast  
that he had taken land:  
Determining to chase the Boar  
with force of mighty hand.   

Each man himself do then address,  
This royal Prince to place:  
With courage stout and loyal hearts,  
They serve his noble grace.    

Of the Battle fought at Bosworth, between King Henry the seven. & Richard that then usurped the Crown.  
AFter long continuance of bloody war (through civil contention) between the two ●●ble houses, of Lancaster & York for the imperial Diadem of this Realm, to the great effusion of English blood, as well of the nobility, as also of the Commons: It pleased Almighty God to put into the minds of the nobility of this Realm, a mean how to prevent this eminent subversion, by joining in knot of Marriage the heirs apparent of these two noble houses (as is aforesaid) to the perfect security of this noble Nation. And here is to be noted; that when king Edward the fourth died (who was lineally descended from the house of York, whose variable chances of Fortune I over pass.) He left behind him two sons, and five daughters. The elder of his sons was named Edward, who was afterwards 
k Edward the fifth.  proclaimed King, being of the age of xi. years. His younger brother had to name Richard who was Duke of york. Now by reason of the novage of the young king: Richard Duke of Gloucester, being uncle unto the young king, intruded himself to the Protectorship of the king and the Realm, and also wrested into his tuition the kings brother, taking him from the Queen his Mother, who then lay in the Sanctuary at Westminster for doubt of the cruel tyranny of the Protector, whose Ambitious mind she knew to be insatiable of honour and dignities, & wholly 
A lamb under the keeping of a Wolf.  bend to cruel tyranny, which shortly after he put in practise. For when he had got into his clawze these two young Princes: Like a cruel Tiger, and ravening Wolf, most unnaturally, he caused them to be pitifully murdered within the Tower of London. And caused one Doctor Sha, (who better deserved to be called doctor Shame) 
A doctor for the devil.  to preach at Paul's Cross, persuading the people that king Edward the fowerth, late deceased, was not rightful king: Affirming that he was a Bastard. And that the Duke of Cloucester (being lawfully begotten) aught to have been king when his brother was, and therefore might now justly challenge the Crown. Was not 
A good son.  this a graceless son, that caused his own natural and virtuous mother, to be proclaimed at Paul's Cross a Harlot? This and his unnatural homicide, sounded most abominably in the ears of all honest men. Notwithstanding by this beastly and detestable policy. (whereunto he also added the death of the Lord hastings and other noble men, whom he supposed would by all means possible have hindered his ungodly proceedings) he hit the mark whereat he shot, which was the Crown of England, and in fine was crowned king, by the name of king Rycharde the third. But ere he had reigned little more than two years, it pleased God to stir up the nobility of this Realm, to the aid of Henrye Earl of Richemond, to set him in his rightful inheritance of the Imperial Diadem of this Realm. The large discourse whereof, is exquisitely written by Sir Thomas Moore, as appeareth in the Chronicle, written by Edward Hall.  
In conclusion this noble Earl of Richemonde after many doubtful casualties & hard events, arrived at Milforde Haven in Wales, with an army of Britons, and by the aid of the Welshmen, his power increased. And many of the nobility of England with great strength came to his aid, until he came to a place in Leycester shire called Bosworth, where he met with king Richard & his army, and between them was fought a sharp battle, in which conflict, the king himself was slain, and his body carried to Leycester on horseback, as a Butcher carrieth a 
A condign reward for such a tyraun  Calf to the Market. After which victory won by this noble Earl, he was proclaimed king of England, by the name of king Henry the seventh, & consequently he married the lady Elizabeth daughter 
An. Do. 1485.  unto king Enward the iiii. & they both crowned king and Queen of England, to the great joy of the whole realm. And thus were the noble houses of Lancaster & York united in one which was the finishing of long war.   

¶ The Birth of the puissant Prince King Henry the eight, which was in the year of our Lord God. 1490. the xxii. of june.  

WHen Lady Concord quenched the broil,  
That civil Sword long time had bred:  
And calmed eke the warlike toil,  
wherewith this Realm but erst was fed:  
Our thraldom than she did remove,  
And freedom sent from God above.   

The houses wain that long had been  
At deadly food for regal throne:  
Of Lancaster and York I mean,  
were then by God conjoined in one.  
This Marriage made, Sir Mars gives place,  
And each man thanked God for his grace.   

But he that doth all things foresee,  
And knows the sequel of the same:  
knew that a Branch of that same tree,  
Should bring forth fruit of endless fame:  
And yield such sap as should delight,  
The Heavens and eke each English wight.   

The natal day by God's decree,  
Approached on with lucky speed:  
When as the blossom of this tree  
Should show the fruit of happy seed:  
Whereat both heaven and earth rejoice  
and show the same with cheerful voice.   

The four virtues might you view,  
Descend from Heaven in Golden Cloud:  
And to behold the heavenly crew,  
that joyed this birth with voice full loud:  
Did sound such triumphs in the skies,  
That through the world round it flies.   
 

Then justice took the Diadem  
That she herself was wont to wear:  
Her Balance eke and joined them,  
whereby she wonts each cause to hear:  
And yieldeth them unto his grace,  
In equity to run his race.   
 

When justice had herself thus yield,  
Came Fortitude with courage stout,  
And decked this Babe with Sword & shield,  
To conquer all the raging rout,  
That should attempt or take in hand,  
His princely power to withstand.   
 

Then Temperance and Prudence eke,  
So decked there his sacred mind,  
As never erst was seen the like,  
Such grace from God to him was sinned.  
For Solon there did yield his fame,  
And Solomon eke did the same.   

The Muses all obeisance made,  
And echeone gave a Laurel crown:  
Sir Mars did there himself disgrade,  
And yieldeth up his large renown.  
This Prince did jove himself ordain,  
In endless fame on earth to reign.   

And though he were a second son,  
yet God foresaw what should ensue:  
The Royal race that he should run,  
Ere he was borne right well he knew.  
And in the womb did him appoint,  
with sacred Oil and king anoint.   

When tract of time had brought this Prince,  
Unto the age of eighteen years,  
His reign began in this province,  
whose noble courage than appears.  
That English hearts great joy did make,  
And foreign Foes than 'gan to quake.    

¶ Of Prince Henry's towardlynes in the time of his Minority.  
AS this noble Prince grew in age, so he increased in virtue and princely demeanour. Using such exercises as was commendable in so noble a parsonage: wherein he excelled all other of his time. As in Learning, Riding, and martial feats. In so much, that when he was the only hope of this Realm, he was no less feared of foreign foes, then entirely loved of his own country men. And had he not set the fear of God before his eyes, with special regard of obedience towards his Father: no doubt but he had been seduced by the wicked suggestions of faccious flatterers, that often times inueagled him to take upon him the governance of this Realm (his Father being alive) As he himself hath reported after he came to the Crown. But he always abhorred their ungodly instigations.  
At last it pleased God to call his Father from the Earth to devil with him in Heaven, when he had reigned 23. years. And then this royal Prince his son succeeded him in this Realm, as hereafter followeth.   

¶ King Henry the eight being proclaimed king of England the xxii. day of April 1509. goeth to the Tower of London.  

Behold the happy day at hand,  
For him to wear the Regal crown:  
Whereby to rule this noble land,  
And wield the same with high renown.  
Which was declared by Tromp of Fame,  
That all Europa heard the same.   

Unto this blast of golden sound,  
Did foreign Princes bend their ears:  
The noise to heaven eke did rebound,  
That England's Foes then quake in fears.  
And friends unto the English Roye,  
with clapping hands 'gan show their joy.   

Then as the ancient custom was,  
To London Tower is he brought:  
With Regal port he so did pass,  
That all men joyed in word and thought.  
His countenance of regalty,  
showed forth a kingly Majesty.   

So that if thousands in his way  
had right resemblance of his face:  
Yet every man might judge and say,  
Lo this is he, God save his grace.  
He did the rest excel so far,  
as doth the Sun the dimmest Star.   

Within this noble Castle now  
This Royal king his seat hath take:  
Whose special cark and care is how  
In order good his Realm to make.  
His whole desire and study is  
for to reform that was amiss.   

Where Prudence rules with good foresight,  
The common wealth doth prospero well:  
Where wisdom guides each thing aright,  
There Commons seldom do rebel:  
But serve their Prince with loyal hearts,  
And nothing slack to do their parts.   

The stately port that Princes bear,  
With justice joined right to maintain:  
Both holds the Subject in due fear,  
And true allegiance doth remain.  
This king did his affairs so frame,  
As made men fear and love his name.    

¶ Of the Coronation of king Henry the viii.  

IF Fame foresaw what would ensue,  
As well as things forepast:  
she would not rashly sentence give,  
In blowing up her blast.   

Ne would she judge each triumph  
then at first for to excel:  
But that another might succeed  
to bear away the bell.   

What meanest thou Fame in ancient time  
to call the learned train:  
To paint the Pageants that were showed,  
when Caesar 'gan his reign.   

And 'cause them then with painful toil,  
the same so to commend:  
As though it never should take foil,  
but last unto the end.   

If thou hadst known as now thou dost,  
Of this most happy day:  
I doubt not but thou wouldst have caused  
their painful Pens to stay.   

Yet is this thing not so far passed,  
but that thou mayst reclaim:  
If thou recant thy former blast,  
by calling back again.   

Revoke therefore thy rash exploit,  
whereat I must needs grudge:  
And when thou hast prepended well,  
Thyself shalt be the judge.   

And plainly see that Caesar's gests  
Ne his triumphing fame:  
Nor yet his blazed pompous day,  
was equal with this same.   

Against the time this pierles Prince,  
The stately town should pass,  
That London height, whose gorgeous streets,  
So richly decked was.   

That Rome whereof so many writ,  
In pomp for to excel:  
Was never yet adorned so brave,  
Nor furnished half so well.   

Moore like a pleasant Paradise,  
That noble City seemed:  
Then like a place of earthy mould,  
As men might well have deemed.   

So sumptuously the stately streets,  
were decked with every thing:  
As though that jove from heaven were come  
to be their earthly king.   

So joyed men in this Royal Prince,  
when he his Crown should take:  
That Sorroes all were set to sleep,  
and solace did awake.   

The worthy Pageants that were showed,  
My Pen cannot discharge:  
And to describe the same aright,  
will fill a volume large.   

Which passing sights so seemly were  
set forth to view of eye:  
That Rome and Greece with all the rest  
would let their fame go by.   

And Caesar's friends that so advance  
his triumphs and renown:  
Would come from graves if that they might,  
their Pens there to throw down.   

Thus as he passed through the streets,  
unto the crowning place:  
Each man erectes his cheerful voice,  
And says God save your grace.   

His noble train of worthy Peers,  
Each one in his degree:  
Attend on this most royal king,  
A worthy sight to see.   

In fine, no shows of Princely pomp  
At this triumph did want:  
The Conduits all gush out with Wine,  
whereof there was no scant.   

To Westminster thus 'gan he pass,  
To take the Crown his right:  
Where both his Queen and he were crowned  
To England's great delight.   
¶ From the time of this kings Coronation, unto his going into France to the siege of Turwin & Turneie, I refer thee (gentle Reader) to peruse in Edward Hall his Chronicle, who hath largely displayed the courtly exersises, wherein he passed the first iiii. years of his reign. Wherein also thou mayst read of sundry Ambassadors that came unto him from foreign countries, with the success of his noble Captains that he sent into Spain, and into Gelderland and France, and to scour the Seas. I will treat only of such matter as appertaineth to his own person, and of the two famous voyages that he made into France in proper person.  
When king Henry purposed his journey into France, he first entered in league of friendship with james king of Scots (who had married Margaret the kings Sister) for the confirmation of which league, they both received the Sacrament, with solemn vow to keep the same unuyolate. But what ensued hereof, you may hereafter read more at large.  
Now let us go forward with setting forth of this Royal voyage.   

Of the winning of Turwin and Turnay.  

WHo list to read of Martial acts,  
And of Bellona's train, 
Bellona, the goddess of war.   
May in the eight king Henry's life,  
A Mirror see most plain.  
Of war she is the Goddess stout,  
on whom doth still attend,  
The noble crew and armed rout  
that fatal bow doth bend.  
This direful Goddess here rehearsed  
hath at a call alway  
Three handmaids ever ready priest,  
her pleasure to obey.  
Whereby she Princes doth correct  
and Cities stout subdue:  
That live and reign disorderly,  
and rule by means untrue.  
The first is Blood by dint of Sword,  
The second Fire fierce,  
The third is Famyn worst of all,  
that cruelly doth pierce.  
And either of them by herself  
is able to throw down  
The mightiest king and Conqueror  
that ever yet waer crown.  
But if they all conjoin in one, what Prince,  
what realm or land:  
Or else what world might remain,  
their powers to withstand:  
So puissant these Damsels are,  
That on this Goddess wait:  
And being by their Lady called,  
they then address them straight,  
To show dame Nature's direful kind,  
that she to them hath yield:  
With terror than they show their force  
on Castle, Town or field.  
This Goddess and her handmaids three  
with all their might and main:  
Always attendant might you see  
upon king Henry's train.  
The Scots can well report the same,  
who felt thereof the smart:  
when all the chieftains of their Realm  
were slain by deadly dart.  
Now let king james his grisly ghost  
awake from fatal sleep:  
And show his hap and rueful fall  
that caused all Scotland weep.  
Let all the Scottish noble peers,  
bewail the woeful hour:  
when they agreed on Bramston hills  
to meet king Henry's power.  
But sith from Earth they may not rise  
this doleful tale to tell:  
I will for them declare the truth  
in order as befell.  
His foes of France, whose faithless leagues,  
he ever found untrue:  
Can witness bear of his great force,  
They all his stoutness knew.  
And Turwin first shall testify  
his puissance and might:  
Who felt the smart of fierce rage  
with loss of many a knight.  
Now see the sole and only cause  
that he this siege did say:  
In proper person with his power  
unto this towns decay.  
When tract of time had tried the truth,  
that frenchmen wonts to hold,  
Whose breach of truce and Prince's peace,  
No wight could yet withhold.  
This Royal king sent forth his Ships,  
with hoist Sails aloft:  
whose force did scour the coast from foes,  
and quailed their courage often.  
But yet he thought his presence might  
accomplish many things:  
That could not so in absence be,  
Such is the port of kings.  
A comfort to the Subjects all,  
A terror to the foes:  
A Prince's person in the field  
doth seeledome conquest loose.  
His person in the field was such,  
As made his Soldiers stout:  
His only name would fear his foes  
And make them stand in doubt.  
His counsel grave so prudent was,  
his wit so wisely stayed:  
That all the rest might leave consultes  
when he the word had said.  
When thus his prudence had perceiude  
with judgement and foresight:  
How that his antic foes of France,  
detained his due right.  
He caused his noble Navy then  
in readiness to lie.  
And he himself determined,  
Sir Neptune's chance to try.  
The Shipmen take their tackles then,  
and all things ready makes:  
With gladsome hearts the Soldiers all  
this cheerful voyage takes.  
The Ships are rygde with all things meet  
For such a royal train.  
This noble king is now embarkte,  
his right in France to gain.  
With noise of Guns and sound of Trump,  
and stroke of rolling Drum:  
They cut the rage of foaming waves,  
till they to France are come.  
With marching forth in warlike wise,  
to Turwin town they bend:  
who then perceives it is high time,  
herself for to defend.  
Her wails and Towers they are decked with tools  
of Vulcan's frame:  
No thundering noise of Gun was spared,  
No flash of fierce flame.  
But when their eyes could witness bear,  
this king encamped then:  
And saw the siege so stoutly set  
with lusty valiant men:  
Their hearts began to quake and quail,  
their courage then abate:  
They knew his presence in the Camp  
was to his train a gate  
And strong Portculleys to defend  
his lusty Soldiers stout:  
Whose faithful hearts unto his grace  
for Foes did never doubt.  
A harold then with blast of Trump,  
was sent out of the field:  
To summon them obediently  
unto their Prince to yield.  
Or else to stand unto the lot,  
that might to them befall:  
By dint of Sword or Fires flame,  
or Famine worst of all.  
Who answered then that they were bend,  
the chance of war to try:  
And to defend their furnished walls,  
and thereon live and die.  
Which message being then returned,  
it was a wondrous sight:  
To see how soldiers hasted then,  
with Turwyn men to fight.  
The Trumpets blue, the Drums strike up  
To show Sir Mars his lore:  
A terror sure it was to hear  
the thundering Cannons roar.  
The king right like a venturous knight  
did nothing baulk the brunt:  
He comforted the Soldiers all  
through every Band and Front.  
Saint George Saint George they all 'gan cry,  
and fiercely do assail  
Their enemies within the town,  
with hope for to prevail.  
No engine was omitted then  
that might their purpose gain:  
The battery was so fierce and sharp,  
that they in th'end were fain  
To parley, and to entreat for peace,  
their states for to maintain.  
In fine they craved for mercy then,  
acknowledging their fault,  
desiring his most noble grace▪  
to cease his sharp assault.  
And they his vassayls would become,  
and faithful to his Crown:  
In token of their loyalty,  
they yield to him their town.  
And all the furniture thereof,  
to use at his own will:  
desiring that he will vouchsafe,  
their bloods not for to spill.  
Whose noble answer was again,  
Sigh you for mercy crave:  
We mercy grant you for your lives,  
from bloody Sword to save.  
With Trump and Banner then displayed,  
he entereth this his town:  
Saint George his flag is then advanced,  
And all the rest thrown down. 
An. Regni. 5.    
Anno Domini. 1513.   

KIng Henry being confederate with the Emperor Maximilian, and many of the nobility of Brabant, Flaunders and Holland, having the said Emperor in wages under his Banner, invaded France, and first assaulted Turwin with a puissant Army. Which town (in the end) was enforced to yield itself unto the mercy of king Henry, who mercifully granted them pardon of their lives, and free leave to depart in safeguard, yielding up their town with all their furniture and munition unto the king: who entered the said town with Banner displayed as a conqueror. And having taken the ordnance, with the rest of the spoil, within a while after he consumed the town with Fire, which thing pleased the Emperor very well, for that the said town was oftentimes a scourge unto him.  
The king at this time to solace himself, road to Lisley (which is a town of the Emperors) where as he was nobly entertained. And at his entry in to the town, the keys of the gates were offered unto him to dispose at his pleasure: who received them thankfully, rendering them again to him of whom he took them. And when he had recreate himself there three days, he returned unto his camp again. Whose return was right joyful unto his Soldiers. For as his presence increased their joys, so his absence augmented their dolours, so entire he was unto all his loyal Subjects.  
Shortly after, he marched forwards with his whole Army towards the great City of Turney, which City is said to have as many Towers in it as be days in a year, which is in number. 365. And in fine, after sharp assault, he obtained the town, and after possession taken, he built there a strong Castle. In this mean season, he invited the Emperor and the Empress his wife to this his new won town of Turney. 
Turney.  who right ioyousely came thither, and were there royally feasted, and his train had both great entertainment and bountiful rewards.  
In these wars were many feats of Arms tried, and sundry noble exploits achieved, and in conclusion, the chief power of France discomfited. But among the tragical events that there happened, one pretty accident chanced by master Henry Norace, who at that time being a young 
Henry Norace.  Gentleman, and one of the kings Henchemen, having on his head the kings Helmet: was by the fierceness of his horse carried from the king's Camp into the midst of the French army that then lay without the town of Turnay in battle ray. And being thus among his enemies against his will: at last found the means to turn his horse head again, and so by good hap came back unto the king: whereof the king was right glad. And being thus escaped, the king offered to make him knight for this adventure. But he told the king, that his horse rather deserved that dignity, which carried him among his enemies against his william. Whereat the king pleasantly laughed, for he loved this young gentleman very well.  
And because my Author was brought up under this said Gentleman, and by him preferred unto the king, I am occasioned somewhat to digress by remembrance of his worthiness. This forenamed master Norace grew in such favour and grace with the king, that he become to be the chief gentleman of his privy Chamber, and also was master of the black rod: Which is an office to the noble Order of the Garter, which office hath a large Prerogative. He was rightfully termed the father of the Court (next under the king) for his singular order of education in courtly civility: As divers noble men, and gentlemen, by him brought up, can full well witness. Namely The Lord Henry Dudley, the Lord Sheafield, The Lord Edmund Shandos, with many more. His nature was to do good to as many as he might, and harm to none. His purse was never shut from the needy. Finally, he was endued with all godly and virtuous conditions: living in the court in great favour and estimation, until envy (who always pursueth virtue) threw at him her spiteful and poisoned darts, to his decay. After whose death, the king (to show his good will towards him) showed himself gracious Lord unto as many as were servants unto the said master Norace in his life time, and to express the same more at large: he bestowed his daughter (mistress Marie Norace) in Marriage on Sir George Carew, which marriage was solemnized in the Court, at the proper costs and charges of the king, to the same and furtherance of the said knight and the young lady his wife.  
Now to return to my matter again. While the king was in France, king Iames of Scotland 
An. Do. 1513.  (notwithstanding his league and solemn vow before mentioned) made an invasion upon the Borderers adjoining unto Scotland. And sent an Ambassador unto the king into France, accusing the Borderers for breach of the truce between them taken. When the king understood by the Ambassador, of the king of Scots pretence: He rewarded the Ambassador, and so dismissed him.  
Now the king of Scots supposed that all the power of England was in France with king Henry: knowing also that king Henry could not, nor would not break up his Camp to come against him, And thought that now he had a plain gap opened unto him, to enter into England, and there to work his william. But by the providence of the Queen, who was left Regent of the Realm by the king at his setting forth, & by the balyanties of the Earl of Surrey the kings lieutenant, he was prevented of his purpose. For when he thought to have entered this Realm with all his power, he was met by the Earl of Surrey at a place called Brampston, 
This field was it that we call flodden field,  where between them was fought a cruel battle not without great effusion of blood on both parties: but in the end (by God's providence) the victory fell unto the english men. The King of Scots himself being slain in this field with xi. of his noble men being all of them Earls, besides a number of his knights and gentlemen of name, and his whole power made very weak. This battle being ended to the renown of the Queen, the Earl the kings lieutenant, and the whole Realm: The dead body of the king of Scots was found among the other carcases in the field, and from thence brought to London, and so through London streets on a horseback, in such order as you have read before of king Richard, and from thence it was carried to Sheen (near unto Brainford) whereas the Queen then lay. And there this perjured carcase lieth unto this day unburied. A condign end and a meet Sepulker for such a forsworn Prince. This shameful end of the Scottish king, kindled the Fire of malice in the breasts of the Scots, the flame whereof (in the end) consumed also their young king that then was left unto them, as following you may read. But first I have taken upon me to introduce king james unto thee, inform of the Mirror for Magistrates, to utter his complaint & tell his own tale as followeth.   

The Lamentable complaint of king james of Scotland, who was slain at Scottish field. Anno. 1513.  

AMong the rest, whom rueful fate hath rest,  
whose shrouding sheets hath wrapped their woeful lives  
why have not I a place among them left,  
whose fall each tongue with daily talk revyues.  
Such is the wheel that froward Fortune drives  
To day a King of puissance and might,  
And in one hour a woeful wretched wight.   

A happy life by happy end is tried  
A wretched race by woeful end is known:  
Though pleasant wind the Ship do rightly guide  
At last by rage of storms 'tis over thrown.  
The greatest Oak with tempest is first blown.  
Though fortune seem a fit to hoist thy sail,  
Yet fortune oft times smiles to small avail.   

I thought my Bower built on happy soil,  
Which under propped was with tickle stay:  
Wherefore on sudden chance I took the foil  
In hope for to have had a noble pray.  
In search whereof I reaped my fatal day,  
With shameful death my fame was forcte to bow  
A guerdon meet for breach of sacred vow.   

A Prince his promise aught not to be broke,  
Much more his Oath of right observed should be:  
But greedy gain doth often the mind provoke,  
To break both oath and vow, as seems by me.  
Ambition blearde mine eyes I could not see.  
I find, though man with man his faith forego  
Yet man with God may not do so.   
 

I was a king, my power was not small,  
I ware the Crown to wield the Scottish land:  
I raigude and rewlde, the greater was my fall,  
The might of God, no kingdom can withstand,  
An Earl won of me the upper hand.  
With bloody Sword my luckless life to end,  
By shameful death without time to amend.   

Such was the force of Atropos cruel spite,  
Unlooked for to cut my feral line:  
My wretched carcase than was brought in sight,  
Through London slrears, whereat the Scots repined  
The endless shame of this mishap is mine.  
Like butcher's ware, on horseback was I brought  
The king of kings for me this end hath wrought.   

Let Princes all by me example take,  
What danger 'tis to daily in such case:  
By perjury their faiths for to forsake,  
Lest seat of shame shall be their endless place,  
Fowl infamy shall their renown deface:  
Offalsed faith such is deserved hire,  
And he must fall that will too high aspire.   

●e noble Peers whose lives with mine did end,  
Sand forth from graves your grisly ghosts each one  
To wail the chance that Fortune us did send.  
Let all the Scots power out their plaints & moan  
That we to hedles haste were apt and prove.  
Which rash beginning void of Godly awe,  
Had like success for breach of sacred law.   

I thought that England had been far to weak,  
For my strong power when Henry was away:  
Which made me light regard my vow to break  
But yet I found they were left in good stay,  
With force and strength to purchase my decay.  
Thus my aspiring mind had guerdon due,  
Which may a Mirror be for men to view.   

Whereby to shun the breach of sacred vow,  
And not to seek by lawless means to rain:  
For right will force usurped rule to bow,  
And reap repulsed in stead of noble gain,  
Thus truth in time doth turn her foe to pain.  
And GOD himself doth shield the rightful cause  
Then let men learn to live within his laws.   
¶ Now that king james hath told his tale, and uttered his complaint, let us see what befell unto his Son, whom he left to succeed in his kingdom. Whose history I have annexed unto this (although it followed not immediately) that the just judgment of God against perjury, may the playnelyer appear. The notable example whereof may be a terror unto the large & careless conscience of man. first read his story & then bestow the perusing of his complaint,   

The History of king jamies' son, who after the death of his Father, was king of Scots being but a child.  
YOu have heard before of the death of king james and the manner thereof, who left behind him a son named after his father, James.  
This young king of Scots, was both nephew and Godson unto king Henry, by means whereof the king was loath to do any annoyance unto the Realm of Scotland. But the Scots being greedy of revenge for the death of their late king, provoked him to be doing with them, by means whereof, many incursions were made into Scotland, to the great detriment of the Scots and destruction of many of their Castles and villages. 
An. do. 1523.  But at the last, by the mediation of the Queen of Scots, an abstinence of war was taken, and shortly after a peace concluded, which continued until the year of our Lord 1542. at which time king Henry took his progress towards the City of York, where he made great preparation for to have met with his Nephew the king of Scots, who promised unto his uncle king Henry, that he would very gladly meet him at York, and accordingly prepared so to do. Wherefore king Henry lay at Pipwell Abbey while great provision was made at York, for the meeting of these two noble kings, to the great charges of the king of England, at whose proper costs, a sumptuous lodging was ordained for the king of Scots in the Abbay of York, with offices and furniture accordingly.  
While the king lay at Pipwell Abbay aforesaid in a readiness to come unto york by the day appointed: the Secretary unto the king of Scots came unto king Henry, who was at his hands nobly entertained, and returned again into Scotland, informing the king his master, what great cost the king of England was at, in preparing for his coming. The king of Scots was as desirous to see his Uncle king Henry, as he was to have seen his Nephew. But when he was in a readiness to come towards England, the Cardinal of S. Andrew's, who was then newly come from Rome, made haite unto the king of Scots (as he was setting forth toward York) and threatened him, that if he proceeded to go into England, that another should be proclaimed king of Scotland before he should be three Miles out of his Realm. Whereat the king was sore abashed, and not without good cause: For a kingdom divided in itself, cannot be quieted without great trouble and bloodshed. And the said Cardinal bore so great a sway that the king durst not come into England according to his appointment. It is thought that the Cardinal feared jest the king of England would have persuaded the king of Scots to abolish the Pope's authority out of Scotland, and to altar the state of Religion, and therefore was not willing that this meeting should be between the two kings. King Henry perceiving himself to be thus deluded by the king of Scots, conceived thereof great discourtesy (as he might full well) Notwithstanding he went forward himself with all his train to york, and made Proclamation, that if any man had any matters to exhibit unto his grace, that they should be heard, and have justice administered, which accordingly he accomplished to as many as came before him.  
And whereas there had been an insurrection in the same country a little before this time: The king commanded that all the Rebels which were apprehended should be placed before him on the left hand of his way as he passed through the country, and having set the country in good order, he returned to London again.  
The Cardinal of saint Androes, who (as is before said) caused the king of Scots to break promise with his uncle king Henry (for doubt lest that discourtesy might be reconciled) to make his matter sure: set the two kings at open war, and caused the Scots to make a road into the borders, who spoiled and did much harm. Whereof when king Henry heard, he sent the Duke of Norfolk with an Army into Scotland, who burned and spoiled much of the country. But when the Duke was departed from thence into England: The Scots invaded the borders again, & did there much harm. But at the last Sir Thomas Wharton (being warden of the marches there) with Sir William Musgrave and a few of the borderers, met with the Scots the 14. of November, and overthrew them: In which conflict the Lord Maxwell, the Earls of Glencarue and Sassiles, with all the captains of the Scottish Army were taken: and on S. Thomas even the Apostle, they were brought to the Tower of London, where they lay that night. The next day following they were brought into the star Chamber before the Lord chancellor of England and the Counsel, being by the kings charges richly appareled, and used more like Princes than prisoners, which they did full evil requited. For after they were dismissed upon agreement 
Unthankful Scots.  unto certain articles, they not only refused the performance of their promises, but (notwithstanding the benefits on them bestowed by the king) they rebelled against him.  
But now to return again unto their king: It is thought of some men, that he himself was in the Battle, and there received his deaths wound, but escaped untaken, but it was not so. 
This conflict was at a place called Solomosse.  True it is, that this conflict struck him to the heart, whereof he died incontinently. Whereby we may be sure that God struck the stroke. And whether it were, that God (who striketh to the third and fourth generation of them that hate him) did it for his father's offence, or for his own, I may not, nor will not judge. But no doubt his father's ungodly perjury was heavily in his mind: since whose death the Realm of Scotland hath been sore plagued, and have had little good success in any attempts, and especially against England.  
The tirste that brought news of the king of Stottes death unto king Henry, was the Earl of Angoes a Scott, who was banished out of Scotland, and lived here in England by a pension that the king gave unto him. This Earl came into the Courie (the king then lying at his house of Saint james) between ten and xi. of the clock at night, and desired to speak with the king, which being unto him admitted: he rehearsed unto the king the whole circumstance of the king of Scots death. Which when he heard, he was so sorry of that news (that notwithstanding he warred against him) yet he let fall tears from his eyes for sorrow of his nephews death.   

¶ The Lamentation of king james, Son unto king james before mentioned.  

WHat hard mishap have I among the rest,  
Whose froward fate untimely death hath wrought  
While youthful years did harbour in my breast,  
My wretched corpses to lodge in clay is brought.  
By hapless chance contrary to my thought.  
But who is sooner trapte by witched wile,  
Then he whose heart is free frem craltie guile.   

Shall I exclaim on fortunes froward face,  
Or on the womb that life to me first gave:  
Or on my Father's fact whose foul deface  
Hath caused me this luckless lot to have:  
Would god my mother's womb had been my grave  
Or else the Air that yielded me first breath,  
With sudden damp had rendered present death.   

Would God my Father's fact had been undone,  
When he made vow a faithful league to hold:  
Or else I would I had not been his Son  
But rather borne to pen the Sheep in fold.  
My Father in this point was far too bold  
Whereby he moved almighty GOD to spill  
Himself and me his Son that thought no ill.   

What may I deem of this my Father's deed,  
Whereof I ground the chief cause of my plaint  
What stony heart for pity will not bleed,  
To see how death this pageant doth depaint,  
In flower of age, our lives so to attaint:  
The Father and the Sonné successively  
The Realm eke plagued for one man's perjury.   

I can not 'scuse his rage and haughty pride,  
That forced me my uncle to offend,  
Who courteously my coming did abide,  
In friendly wise a time with joy to spend.  
I was constrained my own mind to unbend  
The Prelasie then bore so great a sway,  
That king and keiser must their minds obey.   

I was constrained contrary to my will,  
Revengement on the English Realm to take  
And eke of Mars his lore to learn the skill  
Where I like Phaeton my match did make,  
My foes me ruled, my friends I did forsake.  
Though I was king, another bore the sword,  
Whom I durst not offend in deed ne word.   

I call for vengeance on thy wretched life,  
Thou Prelate proud that hast procured my fall:  
Thou were the cause and author of the strife  
I was thy Prince and yet I was thy thrall,  
Take heed therefore by me ye Princes all.  
Where envious subjects bears so great aswaye,  
The Prince's state is like for to decay.   

Such men they are as first do stier up strife,  
But they themselves of safeguard will be sure:  
Their deeds are scant, their words are very rife,  
They raise the broil, the brunt they not endure,  
Yet bloody war they daily do procure.  
And press forth Princes to avenge their ire  
While they themselves with greedy minds aspire.   

Lo by this means my fatal shrouding sheet,  
Is now my weed no other rob have I,  
The grave is eke my Court a Pallas meet:  
Wherein my wretched corpse for ay must lie.  
woe worth those subjects that aspire so high,  
To rule the Prince whom they aught to obey,  
Such subjects rule hath purchased my decay.   
¶ Now that I have passed thorough these tragical histories of the. two. kings of Scots: I will return to the declaration of the joyful meeting of the kings of England and France between Calais and Bulloyne which was in the year of our Lord 1532.  
And although there was a solemn meeting between the Kings of these said Realms, and also between the Emperor and King Henry in the year of our Lord 1520. Yet because my Anothor was not there to note any thing more than is already mentioned by Halle in his Chronicle, and was present at this that followeth, I have used his instruction herein referring thee to the aforesaid Chronicle to read of the other whereas it is very well described.   

¶ How King Henry and the King of France met together between Calais and boloigne by a place called Morguison 1532.  

My glancing Pen now glided is  
From Mars his bloody broil:  
And eke my muse desires to rest  
a while in friendship's soil.  
As way ward war bereaves the breath  
of many worthy wights:  
So friendly peace preserves the lives  
of noble valiant knights.  
And Tully doth prefer that peace  
which grounded is on ill:  
Before the war whose quarrel right,  
The blood of man doth spill.  
In faithful league of friendship's force  
where Princes knit the knot:  
Unto those realms while it doth last  
is sure a happy lot.  
The Prince's sleep is not unsound,  
For doubt of foreign foes:  
The Souldiérs weary wounded limbs  
to rest do then repose.  
The Merchant sends his hoist sails  
the surging Seas to shear:  
Which scoureth through the wandering waves  
devoid of doubtful fear.  
The public state of common wealth  
than lives in quiet rest,  
So that recourse from sundry soils  
〈◊〉 work all for the best.  
〈◊〉 ●●●ey helpeth other then  
and what one land doth want  
Another doth supply the same,  
no needful things are scant.  
And the through concord slender things  
to 〈◊〉 great increase:  
〈◊〉 d●corde both consume as fast  
men set us pray for peace:  
Which causeth worldly wealth to rise  
〈◊〉 ●●●●dly 〈◊〉 to flow:  
As ●horher hath contrary force,  
and makes wealth ebb as low.  
Now 〈◊〉 that long time had sought  
to kni●●● within her band:  
The king of France unto the noble  
King of this our land:  
Fo●nde o●● a time convenient,  
and eke indifferent place:  
Whereas these noble Princes both  
together might embrace.  
To treat of faithful friendship's lore  
with one consent they mere:  
Where they with joy and triumphs great  
each other than do greet.  
The thing that both Realms long desyrde,  
at that time might you view:  
The order of which joyful sight,  
hereafter doth ensue.    

¶ The declaration of the meeting of these two noble kings at the place above mentioned.  
ALthough there was bloody war and mortal hatred between the realms of England and France, in the fifth year of this king's reign: in which year, the king of England won from the French men the town of Turwin and the great city of Turnay as is before declared, yet for the concluding of a perfect peace between both the Realms, the same year a Marriage was made between the king of France and the Lady mary (sister unto the king of England) but shortly after the said king of France died, and the Duke of Suffolk married the Queen his wife. A peace also was concluded between the young king of France and the king of England. And within a while the City of Turnay was rendered unto the French king: For the which he should pay to the king of England a notable sum of Money. But this amity did not long continued: for the French king refused to pay his tribute to the king of England, and also detained the Queen's dowry. And moreover, caused all englishmen's goods to be arrested at Bordeaux, whereupon the Frenchmen's goods were arrested at London and they cast in Prison. But in fine in the xix. year of the king his reign, a general peace was proclaimed between the kings of England and France during both their lives. And defiance sent unto the Emperor from both the kings, and a great power sent into Italy against the Emperor (who then warred with the Pope and constrained him to take a Castle, wherein he remained as prisoner, until the Armies that the kings of England and France had expelled the emperors power out of that part of italy. The circumstance whereof is very largely declared by Sleydon.) This peace taken between the kings of England and France, continued a good while univolate. In which meantime, the Ambassador Ledger of France (that then lay in London) grew in such favour with king Henry, that he was often times admitted to sit in presence with the king. This Ambassador made humblesuite unto the kings grace, that he would vouchsafe to meet with the king of France his Master in some convenient place, to salute each other, declaring that it would be an occasion to knit them together in the insoluble knot of perfect friendship and amity. Whereunto the king of England willingly condescended and agreed. And the rather because the French king appointed to have met with the Pope at Marsiles by means whereof, king Henry hoped that the French king might persuade the Pope to some conformity in the controversy of his divorce from the Lady Katherine, wherefore he requested the said Ambassador so to inform the king of France (his Master) which he nothing slacked to do. And in conclusion, a time was appointed when these two noble kings should meet by a place called Morguison which is between two great hills, and the midway betwixt Calais & Boulogne. According to the appointment, the king of England set forward and came to Calais. The French king likewise lay at Bolloigne, and on the appointed day, they both met by the said place called Morguison with a noble train of Dukes, Earls, Lords, Knights & Gentlemen on both sides. And while these noble Princes embraced each other, a Bishop of France threw off a cast of great Hawks called Sakers, which Hawks being cast off, killed a Kite over the kings heads, to the great pleasure of both the kings. Then passed they forward with Princely pastimes unto the town of Boulogne, where was great preparation and noble triumphs to entertain and welcome the King of England. When king Henry had passed certain days at Boulogne with most royal solace and pleasure, he Invited the King of France to the like at his grace's town of Calais, who in like manner came unto Calais with king Henry, where as his former entertainment unto the king of England & his train, was nobly acquitted. And while these two royal Kings were thus at Calais, the king of Heralds came unto king Henry's grace, declaring unto him that (according to the ancient custom, and also being parcel of his oath) he had set up in the market place the emperors Arms, and the French kings Arms (for so is the custom, when kings meet together) and desired his grace to inform him what might please him to be erected in his behalf, to whom the King answered, that nothing should be set up for him, neither I care not (quoth he) for any such matter. Then said the Herald, it is my duty to erect somewhat in your grace's name. If it be so (quoth the King) I will that you depaint an armed Arm rising out of a cloud, holding in the hand a naked Sword with this Poesy under it: Celuy au quel ie m'adiouincts (Dieu aydant) vaincra. Which is as much to say: Whether part I take (by God's help) shall have victory. This was set over the Emperors and the French kings Arms, as in this Portraiture appeareth. And full truly did this Poesy prove: As in Sleydon his Commentaries ye may read at large.  

Celuy au quel ie m'adiouincts (Dieu aydant) vaincra.    

¶ The History of the winning of Bulleyne by the most victorious King Henrye the eight in his own person.  

IF towns subverted could declare,  
with tongue or painting Pen,  
Their rueful falls and final fate  
their loss of worthy men:  
Or if the ruinous Castles old  
that flat on ground now lie,  
Or else the walls that erst were decked  
with lofty Turrets high,  
Could show their woeful overthrows  
by any kind of way:  
And eke what Captains them subdued  
to take the spoil and pray:  
Then Bulleyne that was wont to brag  
in bravery of her might:  
Would eclipse her fame of large renown,  
that erst did shine so bright.  
This stately Fort, whose furnished walls  
felt never yet annoy:  
Now plainly showed the ancient tales  
that Poets told of Troy.  
Prince Agamemnon with his greeks  
that won old Ilion's town:  
In all his toil of ten years siege  
got never such renown.  
The mighty Monarch Macedon  
that conquered Darius soils  
Won never greater victory,  
though many greater spoils.  
But as king Henry's courage stout  
always his foes subdued:  
So mercy matched his manly mind  
who bloodshed still eschewde.  
He never brewed his sword in blood  
on them that mercy crave:  
His face with favour still was fraught,  
submissive men to save.  
And Bullein men among the rest,  
can testify this case:  
Who tasted both his force, and eke  
his favourable grace.  
What mischief might his hand have wrought,  
if tyranny had reigned:  
Or rage had harboured in his breast  
which he always refrained.  
Though pleasant prays do often entice  
the mind that gapes for gain:  
To pass the bounds of princely fame,  
great spoil for to obtain:  
Yet no such crime of greedy mind  
from mercy might him move:  
The town of bulleyne can right well  
this fame of him approve.  
Their town, their lives, their goods and all,  
lay in his might and power:  
For to have spoiled and overthrown,  
and destroyed in one hour.  
But piety pricked his Princely heart,  
in mercy to excel:  
Whose noble nature doth deserve  
for praise to bear the bell.    

THe Realms of France and Scotland perceiving that they never could prevail against the king of England in any attempt, neither by dissembling peace, nor yet by open war: ceased not to follow the example of the Scarab, who presuming to contend with the Eagle, and being far unable to encounter with him, devised to annoy him, though it were but with the filthy dung, wherein he accustometh to welter and tumble. So these two Realms, to obtain their desired purposes, namely for that they could not bring under yoke the king of England, they always shot at him a far of, to annoyed him as much as they durst: which king Henry well perceiving, And calling to mind the damages that some of his predecessors had sustained after the death of the right valiant king Edward the third by the Realm of France, and further weighing with himself the feythlesse leagues of the frenchmen: who always when they entreated for peace, had their sword ready to fight, and their dissembling minds wholly bend on treason & mischief: thought with himself, that it was better to have them his open foes, than his feigned friends, and determined to invade the Realm of France, and in the end was fully minded to pass into France very secretly with a mighty & puissant power, which in deed was wrought so privily, that he imparted his mind in this matter unto no man, saving only to the Duke of Suffolk, but caused a rumour to be spread that he was determined to go over unto Paris. The Duke of Norfolk lay (by the kings appointment) at the siege of Muttrell, who hearing of the kings privy passage into France, marveled with himself what should be his pretence: And thought some uncourtesy that he might not have been made privy thereof, he being one of the kings privy counsel. Whereupon he sent a letter unto Sir Anthony Brown the master of the king's horse, wherein he declared that he mused what the kings purpose should be, desiring Sir Anthony Browne to resolve him by his letters of this doubt. This letter was brought when the king lay at Calyce to pass into France. And because the custom is in the time of war, that all letters which are sent unto any noble man or other of the camp, shall first be presented unto the king to break them open and to read them, if he be in the camp himself: the messenger brought the letter unto the master of the Posts, who exhibited it unto the kings grace. The letter that was sent from the Duke of Norfolk unto Sir Anthony Brown being in the packet of letters, which the king took & opened. And when he had read it, he said unto master edmund Harman one of his privy Chamber who then was in presence with him and none else: Lo (quoth he) the Duke of Norfolk seemeth by this letter to think himself not well dealt withal because he is not made privy to our pretence in this voyage, I assure thee Fdmund (quoth he) no mortal man in this world doth know the cause hereof, but only Sir Charles Brandon: And thou shalt be the second, unto whom I will reveal this matter. My purpose is (said the King) to lay siege unto Boloygne, and I doubt not but to win it, by God's help. May it please your grace then said master Harman, it will be a noble victory to win: But it will be more noble to hold it when it is won. Well (said the king) I nothing doubt the holding of it, by God's grace, if I may win it. Now was the Duke of Suffolk before Bulloyne, and had laid siege unto it on the east side ofit, who there remained until the king himself came and encamped on the North side. After whose coming the town was so sore battered with gun-shot, and so sharply assaulted, that after a months siege, the captain, whose name was monsieur Des●e, shot out an arrow with a letter tied to the shaft, wherein he offered the King, to tender up the town unto his graces behoote, so that he would grant pardon of life unto all the people of the town, and licence to departed with bag and boggage. Which the king mercifully granted on this condition, that none of them should depart with any Gone charged. And the Bulleiners departed the town with as much of their goods as they could carry with them. After which departure, king Henry with his nobility entered the town with Banners displayed like a conqueror. And after he had tarried there by the space of five days, or there about, he returned again into England, leaving behind him to defend the town, the Duke of Suffolk that most valiant captain. But when the king's majesty was upon departure, news was brought unto him that the Dolphin of France was determined to come down and repel him from thence and his power, whereunto the king answered that he should be very welcome. For (quoth he) the Dolphin is my God son: and if he come, he shall have my blessing. But he made no haste to come, as he vaunted? Wherefore the Duke of Suffolk and the Earl of Essex persuaded the king to return home to England again, for that he had won as much honour there, as was to be had at that time. Whereupon the king committed the defence of the town to the Duke of Suffolk and the Earl of Essex jointly. But before his departure, he being doubtful whether the Duke of Norfolk had any need of help at Muttrell, called unto him sir Anthony Browne, & appointed him to go thither to the aid of the Duke of Norfolk with all his power. But Sir Anthony Browne answered that he had dismissed many of his soldiers by reason of sickness, & the rest were either wounded or wearied with travail, and many of their Horses tired. Then the king demanded of the Earl of Essex, In what estate his band was: who had 
This earl is he that was after Lord's marquis of Northapton.  under his charge 1500 horsemen, he answered the king, that of his whole power he wanted not 60. And that he was ready to fulfil his grace's pleasure. Whereupon the king thought to have sent him to Muttrell, but in the end that king having a special regard for the keeping of Bulloyne, leatte the Earl with the Duke to defend the town, and sent Sir John Gage to Muttrell to the aid of the Duke of Norfolk. And then the king returned into England again with great triumph. After whose departure out of France, the frenchmen began to be very busy against the englishmen. But when they could prevail nothing at all, they began to entreat for peace, always hoping to have Bullayne again by some means or other. But king Henry was so affected to that town, that neither strength of war, nor force of money could win it from him. And he would often times say, that no true subject of his would persuade him to yield it up. Which town he held in despite of the Frenchmen during his life.  
¶ And thus I end this discourse of the winning of Bullayne: Omitting to treat of the large circumstance hereof, lest I might seem to rob Grafton or Halle of their labours, concluding this commemoration of king Henry, with his conquest of Bulloyne. After which triumphant victory, no special war happened unto him, till death the conqueror of all mortal men subdued his body, whose soul liveth with God in his heavenly kingdom.  
KIng Henry, in his life time would often times say, that if it would please God to endue him with life until he might see three things brought to pass, he would not desire to live any longer. The first was, to confirm true religion in this Realm. The second, to establish the Crown. The third, to see his Son a man. Also he would say: that if he knew any one to be a man of GOD, and meet to govern a common wealth: he would rather yield his Crown unto him, then wear it himself, so that he might do it to the pleasure of God & the weal public of his people.   

¶ An Epitaph of the death of the most valiant and renowned Prince King Henry the eight.  

AWake ye worthies nine,  
that long in graves have rest:  
power out your plaints with wailing tears  
Let languor be your jest.  
Do off your shrouding sheets,  
that clads you in the clay,  
and deck yourselves with black attire,  
your mourning to display.  
Bedew with saltie tears  
your manly faces stout:  
Say down those weapons that were wont  
to quell the raging rout.  
For now that pierlesse Prince  
that never yet took foil:  
The eight king Henry hath resind  
his body to the soil.  
Record your doleful tunes,  
ye noble Peers each one.  
Let griping griefs gnaw on your breasts  
to show your pensive moan.  
With bryndie blubbered tears,  
ye commons all lament:  
Send forth your sobs from boiling breast,  
let trynkling tears be spent.  
For our Achilles now  
hath left us in the field:  
That wonted was with valiant force  
from foes our lives to shield.  
And this hath death devysde  
to wreck his wrathful spite:  
Wherefore (O Mors) we curses yield  
on thee both day and night.  
O noble Brutus land,  
how much was death thy foe:  
when he with cruel dart constrained  
this Gem from thee to go.  
But though the cursed dame  
that cuts the fatal line:  
So much envy thy happy state  
in making him decline:  
Yet God through mercy great  
in spite of death his dart  
Hath left a Blossom of his branch  
to ease thy pensive smart.  
For whom now let us pray,  
that she the race may run  
of Nestor's years, with like success  
as yet her grace hath done.  
And that his royal Imp  
Elizabeth by name:  
May wear the Crown and wield the sword  
with joy and endless fame.  
Whose, life doth tender light  
unto her father's fame:  
whose noble heart doth plainly show  
the stock from whence she came.  
Though death hath done his worst  
with drift of direful dart:  
By striking of that valiant king  
and piercing of his heart:  
Yet hath he not the power  
his fame to overcast:  
which shall remain in mouth of man  
while Pen and ink doth last.  
And eke the shining Sun  
shall cease his running race  
before king Henry's worthy fame  
shall suffer one deface.  
And as his soul is lodged  
with jove in starry Sky:  
Even so remembrance of his name  
on earth shall never die.    

¶ A Preamble to this part of the Book following.  

Like as the ancient greeks  
have painted out at large,  
Their noble ladies worthy lives  
and thereof taken charge:  
And as the Roman dames  
had writers of their acts,  
Even so the troop of English train  
have some to tell their facts.  
Whose bright and shining fame  
deserves to have a place,  
Coequal with the best that hath  
run on in virtues race.  
Then let not England blush  
to blaze their lady's lives,  
Which no whit is inferior  
unto the Roman wives.  
Let them vaunt if they list  
of Lucrece chastity,  
I praise the Greeks Penelope  
for her fidelity.  
A number might be named  
that writers pens have praised,  
Who for their lives and noble acts  
an endless fame hath raised.  
And yet among the rest  
that retch their fame so far:  
Let English dames show forth their shine  
like Venus' twinkling Star.  
Whose number sure is great,  
although I name but few:  
But yet as time will licence me  
I shall more largely show.  
The lives and noble acts  
of Ladies in those days:  
Whom noble virtue hath advaunsde  
to win immortal praise.  
For like as valiant men  
thereof do gain renown:  
So worthy acts of women kind  
may not be quite thrown down.  
Fame may not partial be  
but as deserts require:  
Must yield to every worldly wight  
their due deserved hire.    

¶ A Commemoration of Queen Anne Bullayne.  

YOU noble Imphes of Parnas hill,  
●e Muses all arrow:  
Resound your pleasant melody,  
your warbling notes bestow.   

Take wrist in hand to tune  
those strings that tender Silver sound:  
And let the voice of Musics lore  
unto the Skies rebownde.   

Blo up with joy the cheerful blast  
of England's blissful state:  
In praise of this most noble Qneene  
king Henry's lawful mate.   

Let Poets deck their sacred heads  
with leaf of Laurel bow:  
And take their painful Pens in hand  
their skill to publish now.   

A gracious Queen and lawful spouse  
King Henry (lo) enjoys:  
who erst was held from wedlocks law  
by show of Romish toys.   

Her virtuous mind and Godly heart  
God's word doth so embrace:  
As well deserves in Bibels tome  
her noble name to place.   

Whom love hath fed with heavenly food  
and knowledge of his truth:  
And eke adorned with sacred gifts  
in this her tender youth.   

Anne Bolloygne (lo) this lady height,  
whose praise for to depaint:  
My quaking Quill in trembling fist,  
doth quail and gins to faint.   

Jest that the rudeness of my style  
might Ecclipse her noble fame:  
Whose praise, the best that handels' pen  
of right should finely frame.   

Let Virgil leave dame Dido's acts  
and fate of Priam's town:  
And take of me this charge in hand to purchase him renown.   

Or else vouchsafe (O Sulmose Imphe,  
to lend thy Pen awhile  
To furuishe forth with eloquence  
the baseness of my style.   

But well I see it is but vain  
for help of them to crave:  
In whom no aid is to be had,  
that long hath lodge in grave.   

Wherefore my Muse,  
although thy skill  
be rude and far too base:  
Yet take thy Pen to writ somewhat  
of her most noble grace.   

Her heart did harbour heavenly gifts  
that in her breast was bred:  
And Pallas for her wisdom seemed  
to sojourn in her head.   

Her face and featured shape was fraught  
by Nature passing well:  
Her inward gifts and outward grace  
all others did excel.   

Thus love joined with Minerva here,  
this noble Queen to frame:  
So that it plainly did appear,  
from heavenly throne she came.   

A Phoenix right, whose course of kind  
is singular alway:  
Whose ashes yields another bird,  
So one remains for ay.   

This noble Phoenix in likewise  
hath of her cinders sent 
Note   
A noble Imp, a worthy Queen  
ere she from world went.   

Whose Princely praise hath pierced the prick  
and price of endless fame:  
And hit the mark of regal race  
from whence her highness came.   

●e noble dames that do delight  
for virtue praise to gain:  
Desire to know this Prince's life  
and learn for to retain:   

Those virtues that you then may view,  
as Mirrors to you all:  
Then shall you reap the right renown,  
that never shall take fall.    

¶ An Epitaph on the death of Queen Anne Bullayne.  

IF wailing woes might win thy life,  
to lodge in corpses again:  
Thy body should O noble Queen,  
not thus in grave remain.   

For if that death might life redeem,  
and life were bought with death:  
Ten thousand to restore your life,  
would tender victual breath.   

But sith that may in no wise be,  
for death would work his spite:  
With yernefull voice and doleful domps  
we shall expel delight.   

And show our griefs with secret sighs  
, and languor of the breast:  
The flodds of tears shed for thy sake,  
declares our heart's unrest.   

And were it not thy royal Imp  
did mitigate our pain:  
The sorrow for thy fatal day,  
we uneath could sustain.   

Yet this somewhat recomfortes us  
for that we be most sure  
Thy blessed soul is lodge with God  
Forever to endure.   

Also thy noble splendent fame  
O noble Prince Queen Anne  
Shall live on earth till worlds end  
within the mouth of man.   

And eke thy life shallbe a lore  
for Ladies all to learn:  
Wherein they may, as in a glass  
Dame virtues path desearne.    

¶ A Commemoration of Queen jane.  

AMong the rest, whose worthy lives  
hath run in virtues race:  
O noble Fame peruse thy train,  
and give Queen jane a place.   

A nymph of chaste Diana's train,  
a virtuous virgin eke:  
In tender youth, a Matron's heart,  
with modest mind most meek.   

So that dame Virtue may rejoice  
for breeding such a wight:  
Whose nature showed the fair bright beams  
of virtues shining light.   

Whereby she was elect and chose  
to be the linked mate  
of valiant Caesar's equal Peer,  
till Atropos showed her hate.   

Whose whirling wheel doth wander still,  
and run with restless race:  
And is as friendly to the Page  
as t him that bears the Mace.   

Thus till the Sisters did agreed,  
to cut the fatal line:  
This noble Lady evermore  
to virtue did incline.   

Whose Godly life and final end,  
I wish each lady view:  
That Fame may in her Register,  
for ay her name renew.    

¶ An Epitaph on the death of Queen jane.  

IF dart of death might be repelled,  
by fame of virtuous life:  
And fatal Sisters would with hold,  
the blade of bloody knife:   

From cruel cut of vital line,  
to spare the worthy wight:  
This noble Queen should not have felt,  
the rancour of their spite.   

But sith in exorable they,  
for ever will remain:  
The body though they 'cause to couch,  
good fame they cannot stain.   

The valiant men, the virtuous dames,  
that on the earth hath raygnde  
Have yielded to their cursed knife,  
yet endless fame hath gained.   

They have subdued stout Caesar's heart,  
they forced not Helen's hew:  
Of Croesus' wealth they no whit card  
they joy all to subdue.   

And eke among the rest that hath  
sustained their cankered hate:  
This noble Queen hath felt the flame  
of her untimely fate.   

Whose worthy fame shall not be shut  
with body in the clay:  
But live and flourish on the earth  
while Phoebus' guides the day.    

¶ In Praise of the renowned Lady Queen Katherine Par.  

DAme Virtue longing to behold  
her troop of noble train:  
Determined to take the view  
of them that did remain.  
Appointing Fame with sound of trump,  
to summon and assite:  
Each one that in her book was named  
to be a worthy wight.  
Of women sect (as for the rest)  
another time should be:  
For famous men to show their selves,  
each one in their degree.  
This noble troop assembled was  
most goodly to behold:  
And each one called by their names  
as Fame had them enrolled.  
The Goddesses sat in there seats,  
the Graces placed were:  
The Muses nine, the noble Nymphs,  
in their degrees sat there.  
Dame Virtue being chiefest judge  
and lady of the place:  
Decreed that one among the rest,  
should bear the chiefest mace.  
Commanding every lady there,  
to answer to their name:  
As they in order should be called,  
by voice of noble Fame.  
When this decree proclaimed was,  
and all thingswhusht and still:  
My greedy eyes to view this sight,  
could never gaze their fill.  
Then Fame called for Ulysses wife,  
whereto one said straight way:  
That direful death with cruel lance,  
had lodged her corpse in clay.  
Then heard I good Cornelia named,  
and many other called:  
Some answered here, and some by fate  
in earthy clod were stalled.  
At last by lot the Crier said,  
where is that noble Dame:  
That was the eight king Henry's wife,  
and had K. P. to name.  
Whereto a noble English Queen,  
that then was in the place:  
Made answer that her mortal life,  
had run the fatal race.  
Then virtue sent forth saltie tears,  
and bad the Crier pause:  
And said she lost the worthiest wight,  
that ever kept her laws.  
Dame Patience with wring hands,  
her dolor did declare:  
And prudent pallas, for her part,  
no painful plaints did spare.  
The Muses moved with mestive mood,  
resounded doleful voice:  
The Graces all with rented hears  
, in languor did rejoice.  
In fine the whole assembly there,  
in sudden sorrows were:  
For each one thought this noble Queen,  
dame virtues Mace should bear.  
At last stood up Virginity,  
attired all in white:  
Whose countenance like Phoebus' beams,  
did yield a heavenly light.  
Unto the judge dame Virtue she,  
her mind began to show:  
with Angel's voice and Heavenly grace,  
each word she did bestow.  
O noble Dames leave off (quoth she)  
your dumpyshe dolours stay:  
And licence me, O rightful judge.  
somewhat herein to say.  
With that it was a joy to see  
How sorrows were resind:  
And Virtue bad Virginity  
proceed to say her mind.  
Each one attentive ear 'gan bend  
to hear this noble voice:  
Whose prudent words and grave devise,  
made all the rest rejoice.  
This was the tale the Goddess told,  
O worthy wights draw near:  
And see the only cause, that we  
are now assembled here.  
You are the troop and noble train  
that virtue hath embraede,  
Whose endless fame for virtues sake,  
shall never be defacde.  
Here have you heard that ancient dames  
by fatal stroke are slain:  
And yet their names in book of Fame  
for ever shall remain.  
Among the rest Queen Katherine Par,  
(so was her Parent's name:)  
Hath yield her soul unto the heavens,  
yet left on earth her fame.  
Unto whose lot it should have light  
dame virtues Mace to guide:  
But cruel Atropos all too soon,  
her noble race envied.  
Yet one among this worthy crew  
must take the charge in hand:  
whose due deserts, for virtuous praise,  
in chiefest place must stand.  
Here is a royal Queen in place,  
whose life I know right well:  
within whose breast, even from a babe,  
unto this day I devil.  
Whom you (O Lady Virtue) first  
committed to my charge:  
When nature made her perfect mould,  
her skill to show at large.  
And while upon this Princely babe  
in Cradle I attend:  
You Lady Pallas came in haste,  
your heavenly gifts to spend.  
And Caliop with all her Nymphs,  
made haste from Pernas hill:  
For to adorn this peerless peace,  
with perfect learned skill.  
You lady Graces know right well,  
and bear it yet in mind:  
What haste you made unto this babe,  
ye feared to be behind.  
In fine her grace was there adorned,  
with all your gifts so well:  
That outward shape and inward gifts,  
Panthora did excel.  
Her father was a royal king  
grand Captain of the train:  
Of all the worthy warlike wights  
that fame did ever gain.  
Her noble Mother bore the bell  
for virtue in her days:  
Whose worthy fame with tongue and Pen:  
hath reaped immortal praise.  
And she a virgin (lo) doth were  
the Father's regal crown:  
And prudently doth wield the sword,  
with large and bright renown.  
She hath repressed errors blind,  
and caused God's word to shine:  
Whose noble life from virtues lore,  
did never yet decline.  
she best deserves to have the Mace,  
that virtue means bestow:  
Elizabeth of England Queen,  
you all her grace do know.  
And let Queen Katherine Par enjoy  
Fame for her virtuous race:  
And unto Queen Elizabeth  
dame virtue yield thy Mace.  
No sooner had virginity,  
this sentence uttered tho:  
But all the rest with one consent,  
said Lady be it so.  
Then Virtue prayide the noble Maid,  
that thus this tale declared:  
Commanding silence to be sinned  
that judgement might be hard.  
Then said the judge, this is the doom,  
and sentence in this case:  
Queen Katherine Par in book of Fame  
shall have a special place:  
And noble Queen Elizabeth  
as chiefest of my train:  
Shall take this Sceptre at my hand,  
as meetest for to reign.  
Hereat this noble heavenly crew  
broke up with great delight:  
And I yet hold my Pen in hand  
Queen Katherins life to write.   
¶ It will happily seem somewhat strange unto thee (Gentle Reader) that I have so slenderly passed over the treatise of these noble ladies before mentioned, whose lives and noble virtues, I can at large describe. And peradventure I may be deemed partial, for mentioning of these, and omitting the names of king Henry's other wives. I confess I have in my hands a Treatise of all their lives, so far forth as tendeth to the commendations of their noble and princely virtues, worthy the imitation of all Ladies and gentlewomen. But it fareth with me, as with the soar Hawk, that keepeth herself aloof from the Faukners' fist, until acquaintance hath breed a further familiarity. So if I may perceive this beginning to have thy friendly favour: Thou shalt win me to thy lure, and encourage me to mount as high as I may, not bolting above my reach, like rash Icarus, whereby to come tumbling down, and be drenched in the flood of folly. And thus I end, desiring at thy hands naught else, but thy good word in lieu of this my labour.  
Finis.    

¶ THE HISTORY OF the winning of Hadington in Scotland. An. 2. Reg. Edwardi. 6.  
WHen I had ended this treatise of the most famous king Henry the eight, and ready to put the same in print: I chanced into the company of certain Captains that had served in king Henry's wars, & in king Edwardes, and eversince, as often as they have been called thereunto. And after talk ministered: They seemed greatly to lament, that so noble a piece of service as was done at Hadington, should so sleyghtlye pass through the hands of chronographers. Whereupon I (being by them earnestly requested) have taken on me to discourse thereof, by the instructions of these said Gentlemen, who were there present during all this worthy service, which well deserveth the name of noble and worthy. In so much that the frenchmen (that then were there to the aid of the Scots) say unto this day, that there are few good Soldiers in England (except those that were at this siege of Hadington) preferring the service that was then 
1548  there, before any other that ever they knew or heard of. The manner whereof ensueth.  
The Lord Gray being at Barwike & the king's lieutenant there: After the overthrow of the Scots at Muscleborow field, made a road into Scotland in the Lent, in the second year of the kings Reign, to take a view of the town of Hadington, and returned to Barwike again without any assault given. The Summer following he came with his army and entered the town without any resistance, and then made preparation for the fortifying thereof. In which mean space, he laid siege unto a Castle that was three miles from the town named Ester Castle, which Fort was furnished with Scots and spaniards, who stood at their defence, refusing to submit themselves, until the Lord Gray had with the great Cannons made a breach, and was ready to enter the said Castle. Then they yielded and desired Pardon for their lives only, which the lord Gray granted unto them all, excepting one: who (during the siege) had reviled the King in words, and abused his grace's name with most opproprious terms. Then they all came forth of the castle in their thurtes only, submitting themselves to the mercy of the Lord Gray. And upon straight examination, who should be the tailor that was excepted out of this Pardon: it was known to be one Newton a Scott. But he, to save himself, put it to one Hamelton. Thus these two Gentlemen accused one the other. For the decysing whereof, a Combat was appointed between them, and by the Lord Gray ad iudped so to be.  
The time came for this Combat to be accomplished, 
A Combat.  and the lists made in the Market place of Hadington. And these said gentlemen entered in their doublets and hose, weaponed with sword, buckler and dagger. At the first entry into the lists, this Hammelton kneeled on his knees, and made his hearty prayer unto almighty God, to give the victory unto the truth: with solemn protestation, that he never uttered any such words of King Edward of England, as his adversary Newton accused him of. And on the other side, newton's conscience being troubled with his false accusation, argued unto all the beholders his guilt: For there oppeared in him great timerousues.  
The beholders prayed God for Hammelton, for the Soldiers knew right well that it was newton, for his voice bewrayed him.  
Now were the Sticklers in a readiness, and the Combatours drew their weapons, and between them was fought vi. or seven. blows very lustily. But Hammelton being marvelous fierce and eager upon the truth of his quarrel, constrained Newton to give ground, almost to the end of the lists. And if he had driven him to the 
The law of Arms.  very end, than (by the law of Arms) he had won the conquest, and his enemy should have been hanged, if he had not slain him. Newton perceiving himself to be almost at the point of hanging, stepped forwards again, and gave Hammelton such a gash on the leg, that he was not able to stand, but fell down, and then Newton fell on him, and slew him with his dagger.  
Thus the Combat was ended, but the English men that knew Newton to be the railer, and the false accuser (although by more hap than hardiness, he had the upper hand) were very desirous to renew Combat again with him. For there were many Gentlemen there, that would willingly have ventured their lives on him, man for man, but he challenged the privilege of the law of Arms, which was unto him granted. And the Lord Gray gave him his own gown of his 
A good reward yli be stowed, but to maintains the law of Arms.  back, and the Chain that he then ware. Thus was he well rewarded, that better deserved to have been hanged. But he escaped not so: For afterwards, as he was riding between the Borders of England and Scotland, he was slain and cut in pieces. Now I will speak of the siege that the French Army, and the power of Scotland laid unto the town of Hadington against the English men.  
When the foresaid Castle was won, and the Combat finished, the Lord Gray departed towards Barwike, leaving behind him Sir james Wilford as general of the garrison, and 2000 chosen Soldiers under him to defend the town, which was not half fortified before it was besieged of the frenchmen and Scots. For our men had not been viii. weeks in it before monsieur Dassey the French kings lie●etenant, and the Ringrave of France, came to the siege with twenty thousand frenchmen, Almames and Scots, being all of them lusty & gallant Soldiers. And at their first coming there was a hot skirmish between them and the English men. And because the Gates of the town were not of any strength for defence, our men were constrained to ram up the Gates with earth, and so maintain the defence of the town upon the Walls.  
There were many assaults given to the loss of both parties. And in the end, our enemies did so beaten the town with shot, that they left not one whole house for our men to put their heads in: Whereby they were constrained to lie under the walls, (for other lodging was there none.)  
They looked for help to have come out of England, but none came: So that they were in miserable case for lack of succour. For they were driven to so narrow push, that they rend their shurts 
A hard shift  for lack of Match, for other shift had they none. And also their Enemies had taken away their Flankers, which was their whole defence of the walls, to expel them from approaching near whereby to scale. So that by this means, the frenchmen came close under the walls of the town, and were their overthwart neighbours so near: That the englishmen on the one side, and the frenchmen on the other, lay close together, that there was no more distance of ground between them, than the thickness of the wall. Also one of the Bulwarks was beaten down so flat, that a man might ride in and out at the breach, but the frenchmen durst not venture in thereat.  
It grieved the English men not a little, to see their evil neighbours so near their noses: whereupon, a blunt country man that was one of our Soldiers, and by his occupation, a maker of Flails, invented to beat them from the walls with flayles, and tied a heavy plummet of lead at the end of a rope, fastening the other end of the rope unto a good truncheon to hold in his hand, and with such flails they slew and maimed a great many of them.  
This monsieur Dassey captain general of the French Army, was complained on to the king his Master, for his too much rashness, whereby he lost many of his best Soldiers: so that he was sent for home in great displeasure, and in his place was sent monsieur de Termes, who removed the siege, and came not near the town by three miles. But he punished our men worse than the siege, for he laid all the straits and passages with watch, whereby no victuales could be brought unto the town. All this while (being about xi. weeks) came none out of England to the rescue of our besieged men: Saving that sir Wadam Selinger, and master Windam with a rue Gentlemen, and three hundredth Soldiers very ventrousely broke through the end of the French Army, and brought with them Match and powder, which was to our men great comfort.  
The scarcity of victuals among them was so great, that they were constrained to eat horses, dogs, cats, and rats. And yet neither the want of clotheses, nor the extremity of the plague, (which was hot amongst them) nor the lack of munition, nor the sharp sauce of hunger could beat down the stout courage of the english men, to yield up the town. And yet these extremilies before mentioned, made them look more like owgle Monsters, then human men. But their worthy and valiant captain Sir james Wilford was such a one, as was able to make of a cowardly beast, a courageous man.  
During this time, the Lord Gray being at Barwike, was very careful for them that were at Hadington, but wanted powder to send to the aid of them. Notwithstanding he sent xiii. hundred horsemen under the conduction of Sir Robert Bowse, and Sir Thomas Palmer, not meaning that they should offer any battle, as some (being deceived) affirm: but to make a show to comfort the English men withal, that then were comfortless. And thinking that upon the sight of them, the French & Scottish army would remove farther of.  
But they, presuming further then their commission, gave a charge on their enemies, and they being all horsemen (as is aforesaid) were by the French and Scottish footmen environed, and every man of them (one only excepted) slain, & taken prisoners, to the great grief of our men at Hadington. And yet could not all this subdue the hearts of them, but lived in hope.  
And at the last came the Earl of Shrewsbery with xuj. thousand fresh Soldiers to Hadington: At whose coming, the French and Scottish army left the siege & went to Edenborow. But to see the order of this meeting, would move 
A mournful meeting  the heart of any man to utter affections with tears. The Earl let fall tears from his eyes, to see that such valiant men should suffer such distress, whose stout hearts could not be conquered with any afflictions. On the other side, our wearied Soldiers sent out the fountains of their eyes, for joy, to see their deliverance at hand. Thus with mournful and joyful embracings they met. And the Earl came into the town, and supplied the want both of men, munition, and victuals, and shortly after returned to England again, leaving the town well provided.  
Now it fell out, while the frenchmen were at Edenborowe, there grew such debate between them and the Scots, that they fell to bickering within themselves, and the frenchmen flew certain Scots. Whereof, when the englishmen heard, they thought that then they might betake themselves to a little rest, for they had none a great while. Then they sent out their Scouts and a Watch, and so went to such lodgings as they had. But Mounseur de Termes (to reconcile the matter again between his men and the Scots) promised the Scots that he would win unto them the town of Hadington without any more delay. And when the englishmen 
A lusty Canvasado.  thought lest of their coming: they came, and killed the watch & the Scouts, & were entered in at the base court of the town before the Alarm was given. The englishmen perceiving this soddeine irruption, made no delays to encounter with them: But went through a privy Postern gate into the base court among them, & with the black Bill slew of them (by estimation) v. hundred or more, and drove the rest that escaped over the wall, as Sheep before a Dog, that happy was he that could tumble over first. Thus they returned with great loss, and no less shame, making no boast of their bargain. I should have noted before, of a pretty accident that happened at this siege, which is this.  
When Mounsieur Dassey came first to the 
Note.  aid of the Scots, he was informed by the Scots, that there were but a few Rascals & white coats at Hadington, and neither Gentlemen nor good Soldiers. Whereupon he requested the old Queen of Scots that then was at Edinburgh, to go to a little Nunnery that was but a mile from Hadington, and there she should see the slaughter of all the englishmen. So she went to that Nunnery to behold the performance of this promise. And when she came thither: she might see the very streets of the town (for it standeth very low.) The English men understanding of her being in the Tower of the said Nunnery, shot off a great Iron piece they had, (which Gun they called Roaring Meg, for the terrible noise that it rendered) and the Pellet hit part of the Tower that the Queen was in, whereat she made haste down (as it was high time) & road posting to Edinburgh without seeing any harm done to the English men. And Mounsieur Dassey found other manner of fellows there, than Rascals and white coats (as himself reported) geening great commendations of the englishmen there.  
Now to return again to the Canvasado before mentioned. When our men had given the frenchmen that overthrow in the night, they gave the next Morning three sharp assaults to the town, and yet took the repulse with great loss of their men: For they carried away xuj. Cartes and Wagons laden of dead carcases, because they should not be known, besides three hundred that were found in the base court afore mentioned.  
You have read what scarcity of victuales was among them before, and what penury they sustained: Wherefore at the last, there was made sufficient provision to victual the garrison, but not without great charges, for it was always brought by convoy, which was with great strength conducted, and never without skirmish. For it was always brought through the town of Dunbar, and in the Castle of Dunbar lay a garrison of our enemies. And on a time, our captain Sir james Wilforde went to meet with the convoy at Dunbar, which is viii. miles from Hadington, and had with him but xii. men. And when he had saluted the Lord Wardon (who then came with the convoy) the garrison of Dunbar Castle came forth & made a show in the field. Then said the Lord Warden unto Sir james Wilforde, behold how proudly your neighbours stand before us. Yea (quoth Sir james) if I had but a few of my men more with me, I would offer them some play. If you will give a charge on them (said the Lord Warden) you shall have as many of my men as you william. But because sir james had no experience of their hardiness, he was loath to trust unto them. Notwithstanding in fine he said, that if they would follow him, he would make a gap through them. They promised not to shrink. So there were about 300 appointed unto him, and he went before them galloping through the town in the face of the castle, And the shot came so sharply from the Castle upon them, that all the men that professed to follow him durst not, but shrunk back: saving only his own xii. men. And when he and his small number was in the mids of their enemies, he behaved himself very valiantly. But in the end his horse was slain under him, and he taken prisoner. But his twelve men being lusty Soldiers, went through them again (being to weak for lack of number to rescue their captain) and so returned without any hurt unto them done. Thus was this noble Captain taken, and had to the castle of Dunbar, through the cowardice of them that professed to follow him.  
This did so kindel the breasts of our Garrison that lay at Hadington, that the Captains had much a do to persuade them from leaving the town to fetch him from them again. For they said that they would die on them every man, but they would win the Castle of Dunbar. And the Scots knew right well that they could not keep him there without great danger: Wherefore they sent him to Edinburgh, & there was he kept prisoner till he was redeemed by ransom. He was so noble a captain, that he won the hearts of all Soldiers. He was in the town among his Soldiers & friends, a gentle Lamme. In the field among his enemies, a Lyon. To his men, beneficial. To all men liberal. After whose misfortune, was sent unto Hadington in his steed, Sir james Acroft, a valiant Gentleman: whose worthy commendations I omit, because he being alive, and in deserved estimation, I might be suspect of flattery. He was there by the space of one whole year, during which time, many noble acts were achieved. And in fine, when the king perceived how chargeable a thing it was to keep Hadington, he sent the Earl of Rutland with vi. thousand men thither, who caused the town to be razed, and brought away all the munition to Barwike. And thus was this noble piece of service ended.  

The names of the Captains that were at Hadington, as near as could be called to remembrance.  

THe Earl of Shrewsberye.  
The Earl of Rutland.  
The Lord Gray.  
Sir james Wilforde.  
Sir james Acroft.  
Sir Wadam Selinger.  
Sir Oswalde Wolstrap.  
Sir Robert Worsley.  
captain Pellam.  
captain Dethick, who was my chief instructor in this matter.  
captain Wood.  
captain Windam.  
captain Tailor.  
captain Collbie.  
captain Fitzwilliams.  
captain Tiberio an Italian.  
captain Whitton.  
captain Boothe.  
captain Pikeman.  
captain Gam.  
captain Garton.  
captain Bagshot.  
captain Ashley.  
captain Lawson.    

A Commendation of the English Soldiers that served at this siege of Hadington.  

THe frowning furious dame,  
that height bellona fierce:  
That griefly Goddess, whose outrage  
doth Kings and Countries pierce:  
Drew forth her bloody blade,  
Sets up her Slander black:  
And fenced with her fiery flag,  
to work her wrakefull wrack.  
Who can scape scotfree then,  
that dares abide the broil:  
The noble heart for honour fighteth,  
the Tyrant hunteth for spoil.  
The Coward cracks with words,  
and hopes for happy day:  
Yet is he not the first that strikes,  
nor last that runs away.  
At point of hard distress,  
a hardy man is known:  
At rattling shot or hunger sharp  
a dastard is down thrown.  
But when Bellona saw  
the warlike English wights:  
That at this siege, in Martial acts  
affied their whole delights:  
she wondered as she might,  
to see that all her rage:  
Could by no means, the haughty hearts  
of English men assuage.  
Triumphing Garlands then  
with speed she 'gan prepare:  
To crown those lusty Captains all  
that had of her no care.  
The nobles that were there  
she gave each one a Crown:  
Adorning them by due desert  
with large and bright renown.  
And then she calls by name  
the rest to take their hire:  
Which was, that they should to the top  
of mounting Fame aspire.  
Sir Wilforde come thou first,  
Receive thy just reward:  
Thy haughty heart, of furious foe  
had never yet regard.  
Sir Croftes come forth also  
to claim thy worthy name:  
Control each miss, for so thou mayst,  
Thou winnest the fort of Fame.  
Sir Sellinger approach  
Thou setst thy Foe at nought:  
Sir Wolstrap in the Art of war  
hath worthily been taught.  
Sir Worseley was not worst,  
but of the worthy wights:  
And thus Bellona made an end  
of talking to her knights.  
Now Pellam that hath charge  
of Pellet and of Shott:  
A Garland had by due desert,  
as lighted to his lot.  
And Dethicke dreading naught  
the danger of his foe:  
By policy with prows joined,  
gave often the overthrow.  
Wood would not take the foil  
at any equal match:  
And Windam well could wind the twist  
his wily Foes to catch.  
Fitzwilliams would not slack  
to fight for country soil:  
And Tailors trusty diligence  
spared not for any toil.  
But Collbie knows the cast  
the craking Scot to train:  
His name in Scotland is well known,  
but to their often pain.  
Tiberio took no care  
for his Italia land:  
But manfully among the rest,  
did in the quarrel stand.  
And Whitten whet his wit,  
eke played his part full stout:  
And Boothe would never baulk the brunt  
of French or Scottish rout.  
Pykeman past through the Pikes  
and proud a valiant man:  
And Gam by prows won the game  
that frenchmen would have won.  
So Garton he could guide  
and guard his men full well:  
And Bagshot was no whit abashed  
what chance soever fell.  
As Ashleyes' Auncent came  
with honour from the field:  
So Aslaby won good report  
to Foe he would not yield.  
Now Lawson is the last,  
yet not of lowest name:  
But equal with his captain mates  
that hath deserved good fame.  
These Captains and their men  
themselves so stoutly showed:  
That Garlands of still lasting Fame  
is now on them bestowed.  
A Garland is small gain,  
where limbs and living lack:  
I wish the Soldier as myself  
to feel no kind of wrack.  
And such as flow in wealth  
and cheese a Soldier poor:  
I would he were in forefront set  
when rattling Canons roar.   
Finis.   

The Author.  

WHen Fame rang out her Alarm bell  
of glorious golden sound:  
And blue the blast of Prince's acts  
which in her book she found:   

By her enrolled and Registered  
in Scroll of endless brute:  
Whose memories should never quail  
until each tongue were mute.   

This sound of Bell and blast of Trump  
was heard to Parnas hill:  
Where as Queen Caliop and her train  
do use their cunning skill.   

There might you see these noble Nymphs  
throw down their Laurel crowns:  
With ruffled hears, outrageously  
to fling through Dales and Downes.   

And gad, more like to wandering wights,  
Then learned Ladies sure:  
And every one a Poet sought  
her Pen to put in ure.   

At last (by chance) I met the Muse  
that wonts my quill to guide:  
who is the simplest of them all,  
and when she me espied:   

All hail (quoth she) even thou art he  
whom I do now require:  
Take Pen insist without delay  
to finish my desire.   

For now it lighteth to thy lot  
King Henry's feign to writ:  
And though thy Muse be very base,  
shrink not for to indite.   

When thou hast done thy diligence  
The learnedst of our train:  
To polish this that thou hast done,  
will not shun ne disdain.   

Alas (quoth I) my loving Muse,  
'tis far for me unfit:  
To writ his due deserved Fame,  
requires a learned wit.   

Shall Coridon take Harp in hand,  
where Orpheus is in place:  
Arion's pleasant melody  
doth pans rude pipe deface.   

But all this might not move the Muse  
to altar her request:  
she forced me to take my Pen  
and so to do my best.   

Thus brought she me to Hermon hill,  
where heavenly dew doth devil: 
Note   
And there I wrote as she me taught  
God grant it be Full well.    
FINIS.   

 

  

  

   

1575.  
Imprinted at London in Fleet street, at the Temple gate by William Hoskins.