Polyhymnia Describing, The honourable Triumph at Tilt, before her Majesty, on the 17. of November, last passed, being the first day of the three and thirtieth year of her highness reign.  
With Sir Henry Lea, his resignation of honour at Tilt, to her Majesty, and received by the right honourable, the Earl of Cumberland.  
HONI SOIT QVI MAL Y PENSE  
Printed at London, by Richard Ihones. 1590.   

Polyhimnia.  
Entitled, with all duty to the Right Honourable, Lord Compton of Compton.  
By George Peele, Master of Arts in Oxford.   

The names of the Lords and Gentlemen that ran, and the order of their running,  

The Couples.  
Sir Henry Lea, & The Earl of Cumberland.  
2 The Lord Strange, & M. Thomas Gerrarde.  
3 The Lord Compton, & M. Henry No well.  
4 The Lord Burck, & Sir Edward Denny.  
5 The Earl of Essex, & M. Foulke Greevill.  
6 Sir Charles Blunt. M. Thomas Vavasor.  
7 M. Robert Carey. & M. UUilliam Gresham.  
8 Sir William Knowles M. Anthony Cook.  
9 Sir Thomas Knowles. Sir Philip Butler.  
10 M. Robert Knowles. M. Ralph Bowes.  
11 M. Thomas Sidney M. Robert Alexander.  
12 M. john Nedham, M. Richard Acton.  
13 M. Charles Davers. M. Euerard Digby.    

Polihymnia.  

THerefore, when thirty two were come and gone,  
Years of her reign, days of her country's peace,  
Elizabeth great Empress of the world,  
Britanias Atlas, Star of England's globe,  
That sways the massy sceptre of her land,  
And holds the royal reins of Albion:  
Began the gladsome sunny day to shine,  
That draws in length date of her golden reign:  
And thirty three she numbereth in her throne:  
That long in happiness and peace (I pray)  
May number many to these thirty three.  
Wherefore it fares as whilom and of yore,  
In armour bright and sheen, fair England's knights  
In honour of their peerless Sovereign:  
High Mistress of their service, thoughts and lives  
Make to the Tilt amain: and trumpets sound,  
And princely Coursers neigh, and champ the bit,  
When all addressed for deeds of high devoir,  
Press to the sacred presence of their Prince.   


The 1. couple.  
Sir Henry Lea.  
The Earl of Cumberland.   

Mighty in Arms, mounted on puissant horse,  
Knight of the Crown in rich embroidery,  
And costly fair Caparison charged with Crowns,  
Oreshadowed with a withered running Vine,  
As who would say, My spring of youth is past:  
In corselet gilt of curious workmanship,  
Sir Henry Lea, redoubted man at Arms  
Leads in the troops, whom worthy Cumberland  
Thrice noble Earl, aucutred as became  
So great a Warrior and so good a Knight.  
Encountered first, clad in coat of steel,  
And plumes and pendants all as white as Swan,  
And spear in rest, right ready to perform  
What longed unto the honour of the place.  
Together went these Champions, horse and man,  
Thundering along the Tilt, that at the shock  
The hollow gyring vault of heaven resounds.  
Six courses spent, and spears in shivers split,    


The 2. couple  
The L. Straungé.  
M. john Gerrarde.   

THE Earl of Derby's valiant son and heir,  
Brave Ferdinand Lord Strange, strangely embarked,  
Under Ioues kingly bird, the golden Eagle,  
Stanley's old Crest and honourable badge,  
As veering fore the wind, in costly ship,  
And armour white and watchet buckled fast,  
Presents himself, his horses and his men,  
Suited in Satin to their masters colours,  
well-near twice twenty Squires that went him by  
And having by his Trounchman pardon craved,  
veiling his Eagle to his Sovereign's eyes,  
As who should say, stoop Eagle to this Sun,  
Dismounts him from his pageant, and at once,  
Taking his choice of lusty Tilting horse,  
Covered with sumptuous rich Caparisons,  
He mounts him bravely for his friendly foe,  
And at the head he aims, and in his aim  
Happily thrives, and breaks his Azure staves.  
Whom gentle Gerrarde, all in white and green,  
Colours (belike) best serving his conceit,  
Lustily meets, mounted in seat of steel,  
With flourishing plume and fair Caparison,  
And then at every shock the shivers fly,  
That recommend their honours to the sky.    


The 3. couple.  
The L. Compton.  
M. Henry Nowell.   

NExt in the Virgin's colours, as before  
Ran Cumberland; comes lovely Compton in,  
His Courser trapped in white, and plumes and staves  
Of snowy hue, and Squires in fair array,  
Waiting their Lords good fortune in the field.  
His armour glittering like the moons bright rays,  
Or that clear silver path, the milk-white way  
That in Olympus, leads to Ioues high court,  
Him noble minded Nowell pricks to meet,  
All armed in Sables with rich Bandalier,  
That Baldric wise he ware, set with fair stones  
And pearls of Ind, that like a silver bend  
show'd on his varnished corselet black as jet,  
And beauteous plumes and bases suitable,  
And on his stirrup waits a trusty train  
Of servants, clad in tawny liveries,  
And toot they go, this Lord and lusty Knight  
To do their royal mistress honours right.    


The 4. couple.  
The L. Burke.  
Sir Edward Dennye.   

WHen mounted on his fieree and foaming Steed,  
In Riches and in Colours like his peers,  
With ivory plumes in silver shining Arms,  
His men in Crimson dight, and staves in Red  
Comes in Lord Burck, a fair young Ireland Lord,  
Bend chief to the exercise of Arms,  
And bounding in his princely Mistress eye,  
Chargeth his staff when trumpet calls away,  
At noble Dennies head, brave man at Arms,  
That furiously with flaming sword in hand,  
(As if the God of war had sent him down,  
Or if you will, to show his burning zeal  
And forwardness in service to her person,  
To whom those Martial deeds were consecrate)  
Speeds to the Tilt amain, rich as the rest,  
Himself, his horse, and pages all in green,  
Green velvet fairly garnished horse and man.    


The 5. couple.  
The Earl of Essex.  
M. Foulke Grevile.   

THen proudly shocks amid the Martial throng,  
Of lusty Lancieres, all in Sable sad,  
Drawn on with coal-black Steeds of dusky hue,  
In stately Chariot full of deep device,  
Where gloomy Time sat whipping on the team,  
Just back to back with this great Champion;  
Young Essex, that thrice honourable Earl,  
Clad in mighty Arms of mourner's hue,  
And plume as black as is the ravens wing,  
That from his armour borrowed such a light,  
As bows of Vu receives from shady stream,  
His staves were such, or of such hue at least,  
As are those banner staves that mourners bear,  
And all his company in funeral black,  
As if he mourned to think of him he missed,  
Sweet Sidney, fairest shepherd of our green,  
Well lettered Warrior, whose successor he  
In love and Arms had ever vowed to be.  
In love and Arms o may he so succeed,  
As his deserts, as his desires would speed.  
With this great Lord must gallant Grevill run,  
Fair man at Arms, the Muse's favouret,  
Lover of Learning and of Chivalry,  
Sage in his saws, sound judge of Poesy:  
That lightly mounted, makes to him amain,  
In armour gilt, and basses full of cost.  
Together go these friends as enemies,  
As when a Lion in a thicket penned,  
Spying the Boar all bend to combat him,  
Makes through the shrubs, and thunders as he goes.    


The 6. couple  
Sir Charles Blunt.  
M. john Vavasor.   

ANd then as blithe, as bird of morning's light,  
Inflambed with honour, glistering as the Sun,  
What time he mounts the sweeting Lions back,  
Beset with glorious Sunshine of his train,  
Bearing the Sun upon his armed breast,  
That like a precious shining Carbunkle,  
Or Phoebus' eye, in heaven itself reflects,  
Comes Sir Charles Blunt in Or and Azure dight,  
Rich in his colours, richer in his thoughts,  
Rich in his Fortune, Honour, Arms and Art:  
And him the valiant Vavasor assails  
On fierce and ready horse with spear in rest,  
In Orange tawny bright and beautiful,  
Himself, his men and all: and on they speed,  
And hast they make to meet, and meet they do,  
And do the thing for which they meet in haste,  
Each in his Armour amiable to see,  
That in their looks bare love and Chivalry.    


The 7. couple.  
Master Robert Carey.  
Master William Gresham.   

BY this the Trump called Carey to the Tilt,  
Fair bird, fair Cignet of our silver Swan,  
When like a Lord in pomp and princely show,  
And like a Champion fitted for the war,  
And not unlike the son of such a sire,  
Under a plume of murrey and of white,  
That like a Palm tree beautifully spread,  
On mighty horse of Naples mounted fair,  
And horse at hand, and men and pagespight;  
All with a burning heart greets he her grace,  
Whose gracious countenance he his heaven esteems,  
And to her sacred person it presents;  
As who would say, my heart and life is hers,  
To whom my loyalty this heart prefers.  
And at the summons out his foe man flies,  
Gresham the heir of golden Gresham's land,  
That beautified new Troy with royal Change,  
Badge of his honour and magnificence.  
Silver and Sable such his colours were,  
And ready was his horse, and readier he,  
To bound, and well behave him in her eye,  
Upon whose looks his life and honour stood.  
Then horse and man conspired to meet amain,  
Along the Tilt Carey and Gresham go,  
Swift as the Swallow, or that Greekish Nymph  
That seemed to overrfly the eyles of corn:  
And break they do, they miss not as I ween,  
And all was done in honour of their Queen.    


The 8. couple.  
Sir William Knowles.  
M. Anthony Cook.   

THen like the three Horatij in the field,  
Betwixt the Roman and the Alban camp,  
That triumphed in the royal right of Rome;  
Or old Duke Aymons glory, Dordans' pride,  
Came in the noble English Nestor's sons,  
Brave Knowles his offspring, hardy Champions,  
Each in his plumes, his colours and device,  
Expressing Warriors wit and Courtier's grace.  
Against Sir William ran a lusty Knight.  
Fine in device he was, and full of wit,  
Famous beyond the chalky British cliffs,  
And loved and honoured in his country bounds.  
Anthony Cook, a man of noble name,  
For Arms and Courtship equal to the best:  
Valour and Virtue sat upon his helm,  
Whom Love and lowering wring Fortune led along.  
And Life and Death he portrayed in his show.  
A liberal Hand, badge of nobility,  
A heart, that in his mistress honour vows  
To task his hand in witness of his heart  
Till age shake off rough wars habiliments.  
Then with such cunning can they couch their staves  
That worthily each knight himself behaves.    


The 9 couple.  
Sir Thomas Knowles.  
Sir Philip Butler.   

THe youngest brother, Mars his sworn man,  
That won his knightly spurs in Belgia,  
And followed dub of drum in Fortune's grace,  
Well horsed and armed, Sir Philip Butler greets  
The noble Essex friend and follower,  
In mourning Sable dight by sympathy,  
A gentle Knight, and meekly at the Tilt  
He stands, as one that had no heart to hurt  
His friendly foe: but at the trumpets sound  
He flies along, and bravely at the face  
His force he bends: the rival of his fame  
Spurs on his steed, nor shuns the shock for fear,  
And so they meet; the armour bears the scar,  
Of this encounter and delightful war.    


The 10. couple.  
M. Robert Knowles.  
M. Ralph Bowes.   

THe last not least, of these brave brethren,  
Laden with honour, and with golden boughs,  
Entering the lists like Titan, armed with fire,  
When in the queackie plot Python he slew  
Bowes takes to task, with strong and mighty arm,  
Right richly mounted: horse and man it seemed  
Were well agreed to serve as roughly there,  
As in the enemies reach for life they would.  
And when they ran, me thought a tempest rose,  
That in the storm the clattering armours sound,  
As horse and man had both been borne to ground.    


The 11. couple.  
M. Thomas Sidney.  
M. Robert Alexander.   

THus long hath dainty Sidney sit and seen,  
Honour and Fortune hover in the air,  
That from the glorious beams of England's eye,  
Came streaming: Sidney, at which name I sigh,  
Because I lack the Sidney that I love,  
And yet I love the Sydney's that survive.  
Thus long (I say) sat Sidney and beheld  
The shivers fly of many a shaken spear,  
When mounted on a Courser trapped in white,  
And thoroughly well appointed he and his;  
Pure sparks of Virtue kindling honours fire,  
He thought he might, and for he might, he would  
Reach at this glory, fair befall him still:  
And to the Tilt (impatient of delay)  
He comes, encountered with a threatening point  
That Alexander menaced to him fast:  
A valorous and a lusty Gentleman,  
Well fitted with his armour and his Steed,  
And him young Sidney sits: and had he charged  
The Macedonian Alexander's staff,  
He had been answered by that valiant youth:  
So well behaved himself this fair young Knight,  
As Paris had to great Achilles' Lance  
Applied his tender fingers and his force.    


The 12. couple.  
M. Nedham.  
M. Richard Acton.   

THe next came Nedham in on lusty horse,  
That angry with delay, at Trumpets sound  
Would snort, & stamp, and stand upon no ground,  
Unwilling of his masters tarriance.  
Yet tarry must his master, and with him  
His prancing steed, till trumpets sounding shrill,  
Made Acton spur apace, that with applause  
Of all beholders, hied him lustily;  
As who would say, Now go I to the goal,  
And then they ride and run and take their chance  
As death were fixed at point of either's lance.    


The 13. couple.  
M. Charles Davers.  
M. Euerard Digbie.   

NOw drew this martial exercise to end,  
And Dauers here and Digbie were the last  
Of six and twenty gallant Gentlemen,  
Of noble birth and princely resolution.  
That ran in couplement, as you have heard,  
In honour of their mistress holiday.  
A gracious sport, fitting that golden time,  
The day, the birthday of our happiness,  
The blooming time, the spring of England's peace.  
Peace then my muse, yet ere thou peace, report,  
Say how thou sawest these Actors play their parts.  
Both mounted bravely, bravely minded both,  
Second to few or none for their success,  
Their high devoir, their deeds do say no less.  
And now had England's Queen, fair England's life,  
Beheld her Lords, and lovely Lordly Knights  
Do honours service to their Sovereign;  
And heaven by this distilled down tears of joy,  
In memory and honour of this day.    


Sir Henry Lea resigns his place of Honour at Tilt, to the Earl of Cumberland.  
ANd now as first by him intended was,  
In sight of Prince and Peers, and people round,  
Old Henry Lea, Knight of the Crown dismounts,  
And in a fair Pavilion hard at hand,  
Where holy lights burnt on the hallowed shrine  
To Virtue or to Vesta consecrate,  
Having unarmed his body, head and all,  
To his great Mistress his petition makes,  
That in regard and favour of his age,  
It would so please her princely Majesty  
To suffer him give up his staff and Arms,  
And honourable place wherein he served,  
To that thrice valiant Earl, whose Honours pledge  
His life should be: with that he singled forth  
The flower of English Knights, the valiant Earl  
Of Cumberland, and him (before them all)  
He humbly prays her Highness to accept,  
And him install in place of those designs,  
And to him gives his armour and his lance,  
Protesting to her princely Majesty,  
In sight of heaven and all her princely Lords,  
He would betake him to his orisons:  
And spend the remnant of his waning age,  
(Unfit for wars and Martial exploits)  
In prayers for her endless happiness.  
Whereat she smiles, and sighs, and seemed to say  
Good Woodman, though thy green be turned to grey,  
Thy age past April's prime, and pleasant May:  
Have thy request, we take him at thy praise,  
May he succeed the honour of thy days.  
Amen, said all, and hope they do no less,  
No less his virtue and nobility,  
His skill in Arms and practice promiseth,  
And many Champions such may England live to have  
And days & years as many such, as she in heart can  
(crave.    
FINIS.   

A Sonnet.  

HIS Golden locks, Time hath to Silver turned,  
O Time too swift, o Swiftness never ceasing:  
His Youth 'gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned  
But spurned in vain, Youth waineth by increasing.  
Beauty Strength, Youth, are flowers, but fading seen,  
Duty, Faith, Love are roots, and ever green.   

His Helmet now, shall make a hive for Bees,  
And lovers Sonnets, turned to holy Psalms:  
A man at Arms must now serve on his knees,  
And feed on prayers, which are Age his alms.  
But though from Court to Cottage he depart,  
His Saint is sure of his unpotted heart.   

And when he saddest sits in homely Cell.  
he'll teach his Swains this Carol for a Song,  
Blessed be the hearts that wish my Sovereign well,  
Cursed be the souls that think her any wrong.  
Goddess, allow this aged man his right,  
To be your Beadsman now, that was your Knight: