THE HONOUR OF THE GARTER.  
Displayed in a Poem gratulatory: Entitled to the worthy and renowned Earl of Northumberland.  
Created Knight of that Order, and installed at Windsor. Anno Regni Elizabethae. 35. Die Junii. 26.  
By George Peele, Master of Arts in Oxenford.  
AT LONDON, Printed by the Widow Charlewood, for john Busbie, and are to be sold at the West door of Paul's.   


HONY·SOIT QVI·M●● Y·PENSE·  
SEMPER EADEM   

Gallia victa dedit flores, invicta Leones  
Anglia: ius belli in flore, leone suum:  
O sic O semper ferat Elizabetha triumphos  
Inclyta Gallorum flore Leone suo.    

Ad Maecaenatem Prologus.  

Plain is my coat, and humble is my gate,  
Thrice noble Earl, behold with gentle eyes  
My wits poor worth: even for your noblesse,  
(Renowned Lord, Northumberlands fair flower)  
The Muse's love, Patron, and favoret,  
That artisans and scholars dost embrace,  
And clothest Mathesis in rich ornaments,  
That admirable Mathematique skill,  
Familiar with the stars and Zodiac.  
(To whom the heaven lies open as her book)  
By whose directions undeceiveable,  
(Leaving our Schoolman's vulgar trodden paths)  
And following the ancient reverend steps  
Of Trismegistus and Pythagords,  
Through uncouth ways and unaccessible,  
Dost pass into the spacious pleasant fields  
Of divine science and Philosophy,  
From whence beholding the deformities  
Of common errors and world's vanity,  
Dost here enjoy that sacred sweet content  
That base souls not knowing, not affect:  
And so by Fates and Fortunes good aspect  
Raised; In thy height and these unhappy times,  
Disfurnished wholly of Heroical spirits,  
That learning should with glorious hands uphold.  
(For who should learning underbare, but he  
That knows thereof the precious worthiness,  
And sees true Science from base vanity)  
Hast in regard, the true Philosophy,  
That in pure Wisdom seats her happiness.  
And you the Muses, and the Graces three,  
You I invoke from Heaven and Helicon.  
For other Patrons have poor Poets none,  
But Muses and the Graces to implore.  
Augustus' long ago hath left the world:  
And liberal Sidney, famous for the love  
He bore to learning and to Chivalry;  
And virtuous Walsingham are fled to heaven.  
Why thither speed not Hobbin and his feres?  
Great Hobbinall on whom our shepherds gaze.  
And Harrington well lettered and discreet,  
That hath so purely naturalised  
Strange words, and made them all free-denyzons.  
Why thither speeds not Rosamonds' trumpeter,  
Sweet as the Nightingale, Why goest not thou  
That richly clothest conceit with well made words,  
Campion, accompanied with our English France,  
A peerless sweet Translator of our time?  
Why follow not a thousand that I know,  
Fellows to these Apollo's favourets:  
And leave behind our ordinary grooms,  
With trivial humours to pastime the world,  
That favours Pan and Phoebus both alike?  
Why thither post not all good wits from hence,  
To Chaucer, Gowre, and to the fairest Phaer  
That ever ventured on great Virgil's works?  
To Watson, worthy many Epitaphs  
For his sweet Poesy, for Amintas tears  
And joys so well set down. And after thee  
Why hie they not, unhappy in thine end,  
Marley, the Muse's darling for thy verse;  
Fit to write passions for the souls below,  
If any wretched souls in passion speak?  
Why go not all into th' Elysian fields,  
And leave this Centre, barren of repast,  
Unless in hope Augusta will restore,  
The wrongs that learning bears of covetousness  
And Courts disdain, the enemy to Arte.  
Leave foolish lad, it mendeth not with words,  
Nor herbs nor time such remedy affords.   Your Honours in all humble service, Geo: Peele.  

The Honour of the honourable order of the Garter.  

ABout the time when Vesper in the West  
'Gan set the evening watch, and silent night  
Richly attended by his twinkling train,  
Sent Sleep and Slumber to possess the world,  
And Fantasy to hauzen idle heads;  
Under the starry Canopy of heaven,  
I laid me down laden with many cares,  
(My bedfellows almost these twenty years)  
Fast by the stream where Tame and Isis meet,  
And day by day roll to salute the sea.  
For more than common service it performed  
To Albion's Queen; when Foe-men shypt for fight  
To forage England, plowde the Ocean up,  
And slonck into the channel that divides  
The Frenchman's strand fro Britain's fishie towns.  
Even at that time all in a fragrant Mead,  
In sight of that fair Castle that overlooks  
The Forest one way, and the ferull vale  
Watered with that renowned River Thames,  
Old Windsor Castle did I take my rest:  
When Cynthia companion of the night,  
With shining brand lightning his Eben Car,  
Whose axle-tree was jet, enchased with stars,  
And roof with shining Ravens feathers cealed,  
Piercing mine eylyds as I lay along  
Awaked me through: Therewith me thought I saw,  
A royal glimmering light streaming a fit;  
As Titan mounted on the lions back,  
Had clothed himself in fiery pointed beams,  
To chase the night and entertain the morn.  
Yet scarce had Chaunticleere rung the midnight peal,  
Or Phoebe half way gone her journey through,  
Sleeping, or waking, as alone I lay,  
Mine eyes, and ears, and senses all were served,  
With every object perfect in his kind.  
And lo, a wonder to my senses all,  
For through the melting air perfumed with sweets,  
I might discern a troup of Horsemen ride,  
Armed Cape de Pe with shield and shivering lance;  
As in a plash, or calm transparent brook  
We see the glistering fishes scour along.  
A number numberless, appointed well.  
For tournament, as if the God of war,  
Had held a justs in honour of his love:  
Or all the sons of Saturn and of Ops,  
Had been in arms against Enceladus.  
Therewith I heard the Clarions and the Shawms,  
The Shakbuts, and a thousand instruments  
Of several kinds: and loudest of them all,  
A Trump more shrill than Triton's is at Sea,  
The same Renown Precursor of the train  
Did sound, (for who rings louder than renown.)  
He mounted was upon a flying horse.  
And clothed in Phawcons' feathers to the ground;  
By his Escutchion justly might you guess,  
He was the Herald of Eternity,  
And Pursuivant at arms to mighty jove.  
I looked to see an end of that I saw,  
And still me thought the train did multiply,  
And yielding clouds gave way, and men at arms  
Succeed as fast one at onothers' heels,  
As in the Vast Mediterranean Sea,  
The rolling waves do one beget another.  
Those that perfumed the air with myrrh and balm,  
Dancing and singing sweetly as they went,  
Were naked Virgins decked with Garlands green,  
And seemed the graces, for with golden chains  
They linked were, three lovelir countenances.  
About them Cupid (as to me it seemed)  
Lay playing on his party coloured wings;  
And sometime on a Horse as white as milk  
I see him armed and mounted in the throng,  
(As love had right to march with men of war.  
Weary of looking up, I laid me down,  
Willing to rest as sleepy souls are wont,  
When of a suddne such a noise I heard,  
Of shot of Ordnance pealing in mine ears,  
As twenty thousand Tire had played at Sea:  
Or Aetna split had belched her bowels forth;  
Or Heaven and Earth in arms thundering amain,  
Had bend their great artillery for war;  
And weary Atlas had let fall his load,  
Enough to wake Endymion from his trance.  
Yet was the welkin clear, nor smoke nor dust  
Annoyed mine eyes: I gazed, and as I looked,  
Me thought this host of airy armed men,  
Girt Windsor Castle round. Anon I saw  
Under a Canopy of Crimson bice,  
Spangled with gold and set with silver bells,  
That sweetly chimed, and lulled me half a sleep,  
A goodly king in robes most richly dight.  
The upper, like a Roman Palliament,  
In deed a Chapperon, for such it was;  
And looking nearer, lo upon his leg,  
An ancient badge of honour I espied.  
A Garter brightly glistering in mine eye,  
A worthy ornament. Then I called to mind,  
What Princely Edward, of that name the third,  
King Edward for his great achievements famed,  
What he began; The order of S. George,  
That at this day is honoured through the world.  
The order of the Garter so ycleepd.  
A great effect, grown of a slender cause,  
Graced by a King, and favoured of his fears,  
Famed by his followers, worthy Kings and Queens,  
That to this day are Sovereigns of the same.  
The manner how this matter grew at first.  
Was thus. The King disposed on a time  
To revel after he had shaken France,  
(O had he bravely held it to the last)  
And decked his Lions with their flower the Lice,  
Disposed to revel: Some say otherwise,  
Found on the ground by Fortune as he went  
A Lady's Garter: But the Queens I trow  
Lost in a dance, and took it up himself.  
It was a silken Ribbon woven of blue.  
His Lords and standers by, seeing the King  
Stoop for this Garter, smiled: as who would say,  
Our office that had been, or somewhat else.  
King Edward wistlie looking on them all,  
With Princely hands having that Garter seized,  
From harmelesle heart where honour was engraved,  
Bespoke in French (a could the language well)  
And rife was French those days with Englishmen;  
They went to school to put together Towns,  
And spell in France with Feskues made of Pikes.  
Honi Soit Qui mal y pense, quoth he,  
Wherewith upon advizement, though the cause  
Were small, his pleasure and his purpose was  
T'advance that Garter, and to institute  
A noble order sacred to S. George:  
And Knights to make, whom he would have be termed  
Knights of the Garter. This beginning had  
This honourable order of our time.  
Hereon I thought when I beheld the King,  
But swifter than my thought by that I saw,  
And words I heard, or seemed to hear at least,  
I was instructed in the circumstance:  
And found it was King Edward that did march  
In robes, like those he beware when with his Lords,  
He held S. George's royal Feast on earth,  
His eldest son surnamed the Black Prince,  
Though black of hue, that surname yet in France  
He won; For terror to the Frenchmens hearts  
His countenance was, his Sword an Iron scourge.  
He one a coal-black Coorser mounted was,  
And in his hand a battle-axe he hent:  
His Beaver up, his corselet was of Steel,  
Varnished as black as jet: his bases black,  
And black fro head to foot, yea horse and hoof  
As black as night; but in a twinck me thought  
A changed at once his habit and his Steed,  
And had a Garter as his father had.  
Right rich and costly, with embroidery  
Of Pearl and Gold. I could on it discern,  
The Poesy whereof I spoke of yore;  
And well I wots since this King Edward's days,  
Our Kings and Queens about their royal Arms,  
Have in a Garter borne this Poesy.  
Still as I lay, I gazed and guessed at once  
What was this train, and whether it did bend:  
I found at last King Edward was the man,  
Accompanied with Kings and Conquerors,  
That from the spacious aery house of Fame,  
Set forward royally to solemnize,  
Th'installment of some new created knights.  
For lo, I saw in strange accutrements,  
Like to King Edward's and the Prince of Wales,  
Full four and twenty Knights nor more nor less,  
In robes with precious colours of S. George:  
And Garters all they had buckled with Gold.  
Fame in a Stole of purple, set with eyes,  
And ears, and tongues, carried a golden Book;  
Upon the cover this I saw engraved: 
Pauci quos aequus amavit  
jupiter, aut ardens evexit ad aethera virtus  
Dijs geniti.   
Me thought this saying could not but import,  
They should be noble men of golden minds,  
And great account, favoured of Prince and Peers:  
Whose names should in that Register be writ  
Consecrate to S. George's chosen Knights.  
Herewith the golden book did open fair,  
And eathly I might read their names that next  
Went to the King. They were no common men,  
For to my seeming each one had a Page,  
That bore a fair Eschuchion after him,  
Whereon his arms were drawn: I have forgot  
Their several coats, but well I wot their names.  
And first I saw enrolled within this book,  
King Edward's name, he was the Sovereign.  
Their Register was Fame, Renown before  
That sounded shrill, was officer at arms  
And Usher to the train; His office badge,  
Was a black rod whereof he took his name.  
Honour went King at arms next to the Knights  
Half armed, like Pallas shaped for arms and arts:  
Rich in abiliments of peace and war,  
Ancient and grave he was, and sage to see.  
Near him went Time, well pleased and well content,  
As if he joyed t'accompany this train;  
And in his hand a Royal standard bare,  
Wherein S. George was drawn and limnde in gold.  
Under the Verge as title to the book,  
Was writ: Knights of the order of S. George,  
Knights of the Garter. Edward Prince of Wales  
Was first, Then Henry Duke of Lancaster,  
And Nicholas Earl of Warwick made the third.  
Captain de Bouche was next renowned for arms.  
Then the brave Earls of Stafford and Southampton,  
To whose successors, for his sake that lives  
And now survives in honour of that name,  
To whom my thoughts are humble and devote,  
Gentle Wriothesley, South-hamptons star,  
I wish all fortune that in Cynthia's eye,  
Cynthia the glory of the Western world,  
With all the stars in her fair firmament,  
Bright may he rise and shine immortally.  
And Mortimer a gentle trusty Lord,  
More loyal than that cruel Mortimer  
That plotted Edward's death at Killingworth.  
Edward the second, father to this King,  
Whose tragic cry even now me thinks I hear,  
When graceless wretches murdered him by night.  
Then Lisle, and Burwash, Beuchamp, and Mahun,  
Grace, Courtney, and the Hollands worthy Knights,  
Fitzsimon, Wale, and Sir Hugh Woortesley,  
Neale, Lording, Chandos, Sir Miles Stapelton,  
Walter Pagannell, Eme, and Dandley, last  
Was the good Knight Sir Haunchet Dambricourte.  
These names I read, for they were written fair;  
And as it seemed to me, these were the first  
Created of that order by the King:  
And man by man they marched in equipage.  
A many more there were than I could note,  
And sooth to say, I think the book was full;  
And in the train a number infinite,  
True Knights of all the orders in the world,  
Christians and, Heathens, that accompanied  
This worthy King in his Procession.  
Caesar himself was there, I saw him ride  
Triumphing in his three and twenty wounds,  
Because they showed the malice of the world.  
Pompey was there the rival of his fame,  
That died a death as base and violent.  
Leave I this theme: The mightiest that have lived  
have fallen, and headlong to: In misery  
It is some comfort to have company.  
Hector of Troy, and Kings ere Troy was built,  
Or Thrace was Thrace, were there; Old Dardanus  
And Ilus, and Assaracus came along.  
For in the house of Fame what famous man,  
What Prince but hath his Trophy and his place?  
There josua, David, and great Machabee,  
Last Ankerhold and stay of jacobs' race  
Did march: and Macedonian Alexander,  
Victorious Charles the great, the flower of France,  
Godfrey of Bullen, whom the Christian Kings  
Created King of great jerusalem.  
And Arthur glory of the Western world,  
And all his Knights were in this royal train.  
jason was there, Knight of the golden Fleece,  
Knights of the Tosson, and of S. jago,  
Knights of the Rhodes, Knights of the Sepulchre  
Were there; the air was pestered to my thought.  
Among them all a worthy man of mark,  
A Prince of famous memory I saw,  
Henry the eight, that led a warlike band  
Of English Earls, and Lords and lusty Knights,  
That ware the Garter sacred to S. George.  
Who was not there? I think the Court of Fame  
Was naked and unpeopled, in this train  
There was so many Emperors, Lords and Kings,  
Knights errant and adventurous. In the book  
That on a Desk lay open before Fame,  
For in a sumptuous Chariot did he ride  
Of Crystal, set with leaves of glittering Gold,  
And fair tralucent stones, that over all  
It did reflect. Within that glorious book  
I saw a name rejoiced me to see.  
France's of Bedford: I could read it plain,  
And glad I was that in that precious book  
That name I found: for now me thought I said,  
Hear virtue doth outlive th'arrest of death.  
For dead is Bedford, virtuous and renowned  
For arms, for honour, and religions love,  
And yet alive his name in Fame's records,  
That held this Garter dear and ware it well.  
Some worthy wight let blazon his deserts.  
Only a tale I thought on by the way  
As I observed his honourable name.  
I heard it was his chance o'erta'en with sleep,  
To take a nap near to a Farmer's lodge,  
(Trusted a little with himself belike)  
This aged Earl in his apparel plain,  
Wrapped in his russet Cloak lay down to rest,  
His badge of honour buckled to his leg,  
Bare and unhid. There came a pilfering swad,  
And would have prayed upon this ornament:  
And said t'vnbuckle it, thinking him a sleep.  
The noble gentleman, feeling what he meant,  
Hold foolish lad (quoth he) a better pray;  
This Garter is not fit for every leg,  
And I account it better than my purse.  
The varlet ran away. The Earl awaked  
And told his friends: and smile said withal;  
A would not (had a understood the french  
Writ on my Garter) dared t'have stolen the same.  
This tale I thought upon, told me for truth:  
The rather for it praised the poesy,  
Right grave and honourable that importeth much.  
Ill be to him (it saith) that evil thinks.  
O sacred loyalty, in purest hearts  
Thou buildest thy bower: thy weeds of spotless white;  
Like those that stood for Rome's great offices,  
Makes thee renowned, glorious in innocency.  
Why stick I hear? The train cast in a ring  
About the Castle, making melody,  
Under the glorious spreading wings of Fame,  
I saw a Virgin Queen, attired in white,  
Leading with her a sort of goodly Knights,  
With Garters and with Collars of S. George.  
Elizabeth on a compartment  
Of gold, in Bysse was writ, and hung a skue  
Upon her head, under an imperial crown:  
She was the Sovereign of the Knights she led.  
Her face me thought I knew: as if the same,  
The same great Empress that we here enjoy,  
Had climbed the clouds, and been in person there;  
To whom the earth, the sea, and elements  
Auspicious are. A many that I knew  
Knighted in my remembrance, I beheld;  
And all their names were in that Register,  
And yet I might perceive some so set down,  
That how so ere it happed I cannot tell,  
(The Carl Oblivion stolen from Lethe's lake,  
Or Envy stepped from out the deep Avernus)  
Had razed, or blemished, or obsured at least.  
What have those Fiends to do in Fame's fair Court?  
Yet in the house of Fame and Courts of Kings,  
Envy will bite, or snarl and bark at least,  
As dogs against the Moon that yelp in vain:  
Say Frustra to those Curs and shake thy coat.  
And all the Kings since that King Edward's days,  
Were with their Knights and companies in that train.  
When all were whist, King Edward thus bespoke:  
Hail Windsor, where I sometimes took delight  
To hawk and hunt, and back the proudest Horse;  
And where in Princely pleasure I reposed  
In my return fro France: A little sigh  
I heard him fetch withal: His reason why  
I cannot guess: I think it was for this,  
That England had given o'er their traffic there,  
And twenty times hail Windsor, quoth the King,  
Where I have stalled so many hardy Knights,  
And tournaments and royal justs performed.  
Behold, in honour of mine ancient throne,  
In honour of fair England and S. George,  
To whom this order of the Garter first  
I sacred held: in honour of my Knights  
Before this day created and installed,  
But specially in honour of those five  
That at this day this honour have received,  
Under Elizabeth, England's great Sovereign,  
Northumberland, & Worcester, noble Earls,  
borough, & Sheffeilde, Lords of lively hope,  
And honourable old Knowles, famed for his sons,  
And for his service gracious and renowned.  
Lo from the house of Fame, with Princely trains  
Accompanied, and Kings and Conquerors,  
And Knights of proof, loyal and valorous,  
I resalute thee here, and gratulate  
To those new Knights created by a Queen,  
Peerless for wisdom and for Majesty,  
The honour of the Garter: May they long  
Wear them, as notes of true Nobility  
And virtues ornaments. Young Northumberland  
Mounted on Fortunes wheel by virtues aim,  
Become thy badge as it becometh thee:  
That Europe's eyes thy worthiness may see.  
And Worcester, what pure honour hath put on  
With chaste and spotless hands, in honour wear;  
Answer the noblest of thine ancestry  
In deeds to fame and virtue consecrate.  
Borough brought up in learning and in Arms,  
Patron of Music and of Chivalry,  
Brandish thy sword in right, and spend thy wits  
In Common wealth affairs: It shall become  
Thy forwardness to follow virtues cause,  
And great designs of noble consequence.  
And Sheffeilde, shape thy course no otherwise,  
Then loyalty the loadestarre of renown  
Directs: that as thine ancestors have done,  
Thine earthly race in honour thou mayst run.  
To thee old man with kindness (quoth the King)  
That reapest this honour in thy waning age,  
See what a Trophy Queen Elizabeth  
Prepares before thy hearse, long mayst thou live,  
And die in fame: That hast well near achieved  
The Noble Norris honour in thy sons.  
Thrice noble Lord, as happy for his few,  
As was the King of Troy for many more.  
With that he ceased, and to the foremost Earl,  
(For why me thought I see them every man,  
Stalld in their places and their ornaments.)  
Percy (quoth he) thou and thy Lordly Peers,  
Your names are in this Register of Fame,  
Written in leaves and characters of gold;  
So live, as with a many more you may  
survive, and triumph in eternity,  
Out of Oblivions reach, or envies shot;  
And that your names immortally may shine  
In these records, not earthly but divine.  
Then Shawms and Shakebutts sounded in the air,  
But shrilst of all, the Trumpet of Renown,  
And by and by, a loud rertaite he rung;  
The train retired as swift as stars don shoot,  
from whence they came; And day began to break,  
And with the noise and Thunder in the sky,  
When Fame's great double doors fell to and shut,  
And this triumphant train was vanished quite;  
The gaudy morn out of her golden sleep  
Awaked, and little Birds uncagde, 'gan sing  
To welcome home the Bridegroom of the Sea.    

Epilogus.  

WHerewith I rouzd, recounting what I saw;  
And then thought I: were it as once it was,  
But long ago, when learning was in price,  
And Poesy with Princes gracious:  
I would adventure to set down my dream,  
In honour of these new advanced Lords  
S. George's Knights. I was encouraged  
And did as I have done: Which humbly here  
I yield, as firstlings of my scholars crop,  
Consecrated purely to your noble name.  
To gratulate to you this honour's height,  
As little boys with flinging up their caps,  
Congratulate great Kings and Conquerors.  
Take it en gree (fair Lord) Procul hinc turba invidiosa:  
Stirps rudis urtica est; Stirps generosa rosa.   G. P. 
FINIS.