THE Anuals of great Britain. OR, A MOST EXCELlent Monument, wherein may be seen all the antiquities of this Kingdom, to the satisfaction both of the Universities, or any other place stirred with Emulation of long continuance. Excellently figured out in a worthy Poem.  
LONDON: Printed for MATHEW LOWNES. 1611.   


ROSALINS COMPLAINT, METAPHORIcally applied to Dame Nature at a Parliament held (in the high star-chamber) by the Gods, for the preservation and increase of Earth's beauteous Phoenix.  

A Solemn day of meeting 'mongst the Gods,  
And royal parliament there was ordained:  
The heavenly Synod was at open odds,  
And many hearts with earthly wrongs were pained;  
Some came to crave excuse, some to complain  
Of heavy burdened griefs they did sustain.   

Vesta she told, her Temple was defiled:  
juno how that her nuptial knot was broken;  
Venus from her son Cupid was exiled:  
And Pallas tr●e with ignorance was shoken:  
Bellora raved at Lordlike cowardice,  
And Cupid that fond Ladies were so nice.   

To this Assembly came Dame Nature weeping,  
And with her handkerchief through wet with tears,  
She dried her rosy cheeks, made pale with sighing,  
Hanging her woeful head, head full of fears:  
And to Ioues self placed in a golden seat,  
She kneeled her down, and thus 'gan to entreat:   

Thou mighty Imperator of the earth,  
Thou everliving Regent of the air,  
That to all creatures giv'st a lively breath,  
And thunderest wrath down from thy fiery chair,  
Behold thy handmaid, king of earthly kings,  
That to thy gracious sight sad tidings brings.   

〈◊〉 ●are rich Phoenix of exceeding beauty,  
〈◊〉- like Lillie in the earth I placed;  
〈…〉, to whom men owe duty:  
〈◊〉 country with a milk-white Dove I graced:  
O●e and none such, since the wide world was found,  
Hath ever Nature placed on the ground.   

Head.  
Her head I framed of a heavenly map,  
Wherein the sevenfold virtues were enclosed,  
When great Apollo slept within my lap,  
And in my bosom had his rest reposed,  
I cut away his locks of purest gold,  
And placed them on her head of earthly mould.   

Hair.  
When the least whistling wind begins to sing,  
And gently blows her hair about her neck,  
Like to a chime of bells it soft doth ring,  
And with the pretty noise the wind doth check,  
Able to lull asleep a pensive heart,  
That of the round world's sorrows bears a part.   

F●r●●ead.  
Her forehead is a place for princely Io●e  
To ●it, and censure matters of import: ●  
Wherein men read the sweet conceits of Love,  
To which hart-pained Lovers do resort,  
And in this ●ablet find to cure the wound,  
For which no salve or herb was ever found.   

Eyes.  
Under this mirror, are her princely eyes:  
Two Carbuncles, two rich imperial lights;  
That o'er the d●y and night do soveraignize,  
And their dim tapers to their rest she frights:  
Her eyes excel the Moon and glorious Son,  
And when she riseth all their force is done.   

Cheeks.  
Her morning-coloured cheeks, in which is placed,  
A Lily lying in a bed of Roses;  
This part above all other I have graced,  
For in the blue veins you may read sweet posies:  
When she doth blush, the Heavens do wax ●ed,  
When she looks pale, that heavenly Front is dead.   

Chin.  
Her chin a little little pretty thing,  
In which the sweet carnatian Gelli-flower,  
Is round encompassed in a crystal ring,  
And of that pretty Orb doth bear a power:  
No storm of Envy can this glory touch,  
Though many should assay it overmuch.   

Lips.  
Her lips two ruby Gates from whence doth spring,  
Sweet honeyed dew by an entangled kiss,  
From forth these glories doth the Night-bird sing,  
A Nightingale that no right notes will ●isse:  
True learned Eloquence and Poetry,  
Do come between these doors of excellency.   

T●eth.  
Her teeth are hewed from rich crystal Rocks,  
Or from the Indian pearl of much esteem,  
These in a closet her deep counsel locks,  
And are as porters to so fair ● Quern,  
They taste the diet of th● 〈◊〉 train,  
Other base grossness they do still disdain.   

Tongue.  
Her tongue the utterer of all glorious things,  
The silver clapper of that golden bell,  
That never soundeth but to mighty Kings,  
And when she speaks, her speeches do excel:  
He in a happy chair himself doth place,  
Whose name with her sweet tongue she means to grace.   

Neck.  
Her neck is Vesta's silver conduct pipe,  
In which she pours perfect chastity,  
And of the musky grapes in summer ripe,  
She makes a liquor of ratietie,  
That dies this swanne-like pillar to a white,  
More glorious than the day with all his light.   

breasts.  
Her breasts two crystal orbs of whitest white,  
Two little mounts from whence lives comfort springs,  
Between those hillocks Cupid doth delight  
To sit and play, and in that valley sings:  
Looking love-babies in her wanton eyes,  
That all gross vapours thence doth chas●esize.   

Arms.  
Her arms are branches of that silver tree,  
That men surname the rich Hesperides,  
A precious circling show of modesty,  
When she doth spread these glory's happiness▪  
Ten time's ten thousand blessings he doth ●aste,  
Whose circled arms shall cling about her waste.   

Hands.  
Her hands are fortunes palms, where men may read  
His first hours destiny, or weal or woe,  
When she this sky-like map abroad doth spread,  
Like pilgrims many to this Saint do go,  
And in her hand, white hand, they there do see  
Love lying in a bed of ivory.   

Finger's.  
Her fingers long and small do grace her hand;  
For when she toucheth the sweet sounding Lute,  
The wild untamed b●asts amazed do stand,  
And c●rroll-chanting birds are sudden mute:  
O fingers how you grace the silver wires,  
And in humanity burn Venus' fires!   

Belly.  
Her belly (o grace incomprehensible)  
Far whiter than the milk-white lily flower,  
O might Arabian Phoenix come invisible,  
And on this mountain build a glorious bower,  
Then Sun and Moon as tapers to her bed,  
Would light loves Lord to take h●r maidenhead.   

Nota.  
Be still my thoughts, be silent all yea Muses,  
Wit-flowing eloquence now gra●e my tongue:  
Arise old Homer and make no excuses,  
Of a rare piece of art must be my song,  
Of more than most, and most of all beloved,  
About the which Venus sweet do●es have hovered.   

There is a place in lovely paradise,  
From whence the golden Gehon overflows,  
A fountain of such honourable prize,  
That none the sacred, sacred virtues knows,  
Walled about, be●ok'ning sure defence,  
With trees of life, to keep ●ad errors thence.   

Thighs.  
Her Thighs two pillars fairer far than fair,  
Two underprops of that celestial house,  
That Mansion that is junos' silver chair,  
In which Ambrosia VENUS doth carouse,  
And in her thighs the pretty veins are running  
Like Crystal ●iuers from the main streams flowing.   

Legs.  
Her Legs are made as graces to the rest,  
So pretty, white, and so proportionate,  
That leads her to loves royal sportive nest,  
Like to a light bright Angel in her gate:  
For why no creature in the earth but she,  
Is like an Angel, Angel let her be.   

Fee●e.  
Her Feet (now draw I to conclusion)  
Are neat and little to delight the eye,  
No term in all human invention,  
Or in the vein of sweet writ Poetry  
Can ere be found, to give her feet that grace,  
That bears her corporate Soul from place to place.   

And if by night she walk, the Marigold,  
That doth enclose the glory of her eye,  
At her approach her beauty doth unfold,  
And spreads herself in all her royalty,  
Such virtue hath this Phoenix glassy shield,  
That Flowers and Herbs at her fair sight do yield.   

And if she grace the Walks within the day,  
Flora doth spread an Arras cloth of flowers,  
Before her do the pretty Satyrs play,  
And make her banquets in their levy Bowers:  
Head, Hair, Brow, Eyes, Cheeks▪ Chin and all,  
Lips, Teeth, tongue, Neck, Breasts, Belly are majestical.   

This Phoenix I do fear me will d●cay,  
And from her ashes never will arise  
An other Bird her wings for to display,  
And her rich beauty for to equalize:  
The Arabian fires are too dull and base,  
To make another spring within her place▪   

Therefore dread Regent of these Elements,  
Pity poo●e Nature in her Art excelling,  
Give thou an humble, ●are to my laments,  
That to thee have a long true tale been telling,  
Of her, who when 〈◊〉 please the● to behold,  
Her outward sight shall beauties pride unfold.   

At these words jove stood as a man amazed,  
And junos' love-bred beauty turned to wight,  
Venus she blushed, and on dame Nature gazed.  
And Vesta she began to weep outright:  
And little Cupid poor boy▪ struck in love,  
With repetition of this earthly Dove.   

But at the last jove 'gan to rouse his spirit,  
And told dame Nature in her sweet discourse;  
Her woman's Tongue did run before her Wit,  
Such a fair soul herself could never nurse,  
Nor in the vasty earth was ever living,  
Such beauty that all beauty was excelling.   

Nature was struck with pale temerity,  
To see the God of thunder's lightning eyes;  
He shook his knotty hair so wrathfully,  
As if he did the heavenly rout despise:  
Then down upon her knee dame Nature falls,  
And on the great gods name aloud she calls.   

jove thou shalt see my commendations,  
To be unworthy and impartial,  
To make of her an extallation,  
Whose beauty is divine majestical;  
Look on that painted picture there, behold  
The rich wrought Phoenix of Arabian gold.   

Ioues eyes were settled on her painted eyes;  
jove blushing smiled▪ the picture smiled again:  
jove spoke to her, and in his heart did rise  
loves amours, but the picture did disdains  
To love the god, jove would have stole a kiss,  
But juno being by, denied him this.   

When all the rest beheld this counterfeit,  
They knew the substance was of rarer price:  
Some gazed upon her face, on which did wait  
As messengers, her two celestial eyes;  
Eyes wanting fire, did give a lightning flame,  
How much more would her eyes man's senses tame?   

Then all the Gods and Goddesses did decree,  
In humble manner to entreat of jove,  
And every power upon his bended knee,  
Showed faithful service in dame Nature's love,  
Entreating him to pacify his Ire,  
And raise another Phoenix of new fire.   

Her picture from Ioues eyes hath banished Hate,  
And Mildness plained the furrows of his brow,  
Her painted shape hath chastised debate,  
And now to pleasure them he makes a vow:  
Then thus jove spoke, 'tis pity she should die,  
And leave no offspring of her Progeny.   

Nature go hie thee, get thee Phoebus chair,  
Cut through the sky, and leave Arabia,  
Leave that ill working piece of fruitless air,  
Leave me the plains of white Brytania,  
These countries have no fire to raise that flame,  
That to this Phoenix bird can yield a name.   

There is a country Climate famed of old,  
That hath to name delight some Paphos I'll,  
Over the mountain tops to trudge be bold,  
There let thy winged Horses rest awhile:  
Where in a vale like Ciparissus' grove,  
Thou shalt behold a second Phoenix love.   

A champion country full of fertile Plains,  
Green grassy Meadows, little pretty Hills,  
Abundant pleasure in this place remains,  
And plenteous sweets this heavenly climate fills:  
Fair flowing baths that issue from the rocks,  
Abundant herds of beasts that come by flocks.   

High stately Cedars, sturdy big armed Oaks,  
Great Poplars, and long trees of Libanon,  
Sweet smelling Fir that frankincense provokes,  
And Pine apples from whence sweet juice doth come:  
The sommer-blooming Hauthorne; under this  
Fair Venus from Adonis stole a kiss.   

Fine Thickets and rough Brakes for sport and pleasure,  
Places to hunt the lightfoot nimble Roe:  
These groves Diana did account her treasure,  
And in the cold shades, oftentimes did go  
To lie her down, faint, weary on the ground,  
Whilst that her Nymphs about her danced a round.   

A choir of heavenly Angels tune their voices,  
And counterfeit the Nightingale in singing,  
At which delight some pleasure she rejoices,  
And Plenty from her cell her gifts is bringing:  
Pears, Apples, Plums, and the red ripe Cherries,  
Sweet Strawberries with other dainty berries.   

Here haunt the satires and the Dryads,  
The Hamadryads and pretty Elves,  
That in the groves with skipping many please,  
And run along upon the water shelves:  
Hear Mermaids sing, but with Ulysses' ears,  
The country Gallants do disdain their tears.   

The Crocodile and hissing Adders sting,  
M●y not come near this holy plot of ground,  
No Night worm in this continent may sing,  
Nor poison-spitting Serpent may be found:  
Here Milk and Honey like two rivers ran,  
As fruitful as the land of Canaan.   

What shall I say? their Orchards spring with plenty,  
The Gardens smell like Flora's paradise,  
Bringing increase from one to number twenty,  
As liquorice and sweet Arabian spice:  
No place is found under bright heavens fair bliss,  
To bear the name of Paradise but this.   

Hard by a running stream or crystal fountain,  
Wherein rich Orient pearl is often found,  
Environed with a high and steepy mountain,  
A fertile soil and fruitful plot of ground,  
There shalt thou find true Honours lovely Squire,  
That for this Phoenix keeps Prometheus' fire.   

His bower wherein he lodgeth all the night,  
Is framed of Cedars and high lofty Pine,  
I made his house to chastise thence despite,  
And framed it like this heavenly roof of mine:  
His name is Liberal honour, and his heart,  
Aims at true faithful service and desert.   

Look on his face, and in his brows doth sit,  
Blood and sweet Mercy hand in hand united,  
Blood to his foes, a precedent most fit  
For such as have his gentle humour spited:  
His Hair is curled by nature mild and meek,  
Hangs careless down to shroud a blushing cheek.   

Give him this Ointment to anoint his Head,  
This precious Balm to lay unto his feet,  
These shall direct him to this Phoenix bed,  
Where on a high hill he this Bird shall meet:  
And of their Ashes by my doom shall rise,  
Another Phoenix' her to equalize.   

This said the Gods and Goddesses did applaud,  
The Censure of this thundering Magistrate,  
And Nature gave him everlasting laud,  
And quickly in the days bright Coach she gate  
Down to the earth, she's whirled through the air;  
jove join these fires, thus Venus made her prayer.   


An Introduction to the Prayer.  

Guide thou great Guider of the Sun and Moon,  
Thou elemental favourer of the Night,  
My undeserved wit, wit sprung too soon,  
To give thy greatness every gracious right:  
Let Pen, Hand, Wit and undeserving tongue,  
Thy praise and honour sing in every song.   

In my poor prayer guide my Hand aright,  
Guide my dull Wit, guide all my dulled Senses,  
Let thy bright Taper give me faithful light,  
And from thy Book of life blot my offences:  
Then armed with thy protection and thy love,  
I'll make my prayer for thy turtle-dove.     


A Prayer made for the prosperity of a silver coloured Dove, applied to the beauteous Phoenix.  

O Thou great maker of the firmament,  
That rid'st upon the winged Cherubins,  
And on the glorious shining element,  
Hearest the sad prayers of the Seraphins,  
That unto thee continually sing Hymns:  
Bow down thy listening ears thou God of might,  
To him whose heart will praise thee day and night.   

Accept the humble Prayers of that soul,  
That now lies wallowing in the mire of Sin,  
Thy mercy Lord doth all my powers control,  
And searcheth reins and heart that are within:  
Therefore to thee jehovah I'll begin:  
Lifting my head from my imprisoned grave,  
No mercy but thy mercy me can save.   

The foul untamed Lion still goes roaring,  
Old hell-bred Satan enemy to mankind,  
To lead me to his jaws that are devouring,  
Wherein no Grace to human flesh's assigned,  
But thou celestial Father canst him bind:  
Tread on his head, tread Sin and Satan down,  
And on thy servants head set Mercies crown.   

Thus in acceptance of thy glorious sight,  
I purge my deadly sin in hope of grace,  
Thou art the Door, the Lantern and the Light,  
To guide my sinful feet from place to place,  
And now O Christ I bow before thy face:  
And for the silver coloured earthly Dove,  
I make my earnest prayer for thy love.   

Shroud her o Lord under thy shadowed wings,  
From the world's envious malice and deceit,  
That like the adder-poisoned serpent stings,  
And in her way lays a corrupted bait,  
Yet raise her God unto thy mercy's height:  
Guide her, o guide her from pernicious foes,  
That many of thy creatures overthrows.   

Wash her O Lord with Hyssop and with Thime,  
And the white snow she shall excel in whiteness,  
Purge her with mercy from all sinful crime,  
And her soul's glory shall exceed in brightness,  
O let thy mercy grow unto such ripeness:  
Behold her, O behold her gracious King,  
That unto thee sweet songs of praise will sing.   

And as thou lead'st through the red coloured waves,  
The host of thy elected Israel,  
And from the wrath of Pharoe didst them save,  
Appointing them within that land to dwell,  
A chosen land, a land what did excel:  
So guide thy silver Dove unto that place,  
Where she Temptations envy may outface.   

Increase thy gifts bestowed on thy Creature,  
And multiply thy blessings manifold,  
And as thou hast adorned her with nature,  
So with thy blessed eyes her eyes behold,  
That in them doth thy workmanship unfold,  
Let her not wither Lord without increase,  
But bless her with joys offspring of sweet peace.    
Amen. Amen.    

To those of light belief.  

YOu gentle favourers of excelling Muses,  
And gracers of all Learning and Desert,  
You whose Conceit the deepest work peruses,  
Whose judgements still are governed by Art:  
Read gently what you read, this next conceit  
Framed of pure love, abandoning deceit.   

And you whose dull Imagination,  
And blind conceited Error hath not known,  
Of Herbs and Trees true nomination,  
But think them fabulous that shall be shown:  
Learn more, search much, and surely you shall find,  
Plain honest Truth and Knowledge comes behind.   

Then gently (gentle Reader) do thou favour,  
And with a gracious look grace what is written,  
With smiling cheer peruse my homely labour,  
With envies poisoned spiteful look not bitten:  
So shalt thou cause my willing thought to strive,  
To add more Honey to my new made Hive.    

A meeting Dialogue-wise between Nature, the Phoenix, and the Turtle Dove.  Nature. 
ALl hail fair Phoenix, whither art thou flying?  
Why in the hot Sun dost thou spread thy wings?  
More pleasure shouldst thou take in cold shades lying,  
And for to bathe thyself in wholesome Springs,  
Where the woods feathered quire sweetly sings:  
Thy golden Wings and thy breasts beauteous Eye,  
Will fall away in Phoebus' royalty.  Phoenix. 
O stay me not, I am no Phoenix I,  
And if I be that bird, I am defaced,  
Upon the Arabian mountains I must die,  
And never with a poor young Turtle graced;  
Such operation in me is not placed:  
What is my Beauty but a painted wall,  
My golden spreading Feathers quickly fall.  Nature. 
Why dost thou shed thy Feathers, kill thy Heart,  
Weep out thine Eyes, and stain thy golden Face?  
Why dost thou of the world's woe take a part,  
And in relenting tears thyself disgrace?  
joys mirthful Tower is thy dwelling place:  
All Birds for virtue and excelling beauty,  
Sing at thy reverend feet in Love and Duty.  Phoenix. 
O how thou feedest me with my Beauties praising!  
O how thy Praise sounds from a golden Tongue!  
O how thy Tongue my Virtues would be raising!  
And raising me thou dost corrupt thy song:  
Thou seest not Honey and Poison mixed among;  
Thou notest my Beauty with a jealous look,  
But dost not see how I do bait my hook.  Nature. 
Tell me, o tell me, for I am thy friend,  
I am Dame Nature that first gave thee breath,  
That from Ioues glorious rich seat did descend,  
To set my Feet upon this lumpish earth:  
What is the cause of thy sad sullen Mirth?  
Hast thou not Beauty, Virtue, Wit and Favour:  
What other graces wouldst thou crave of Nature?  Phoenix. 

What is my Beauty but a vading Flower?  
Wherein men read their deep-conceived Thrall,  
Alluring twenty Gallants in an hour,  
To be as servile vassals at my Call?  
My Sunne-bred looks their Senses do exhale:  
But (o my grief) where my fair Eyes would love,  
Fowl blear-eyed Envy doth my thoughts reprove.   

What is my Virtue but a Tablitorie:  
Which if I did bestow would more increase?  
What is my Wit but an inhuman glory:  
That to my kind dear friends would proffer peace?  
But O vain Bird, give over in silence, cease;  
Malice perchance doth hearken to thy words,  
That cuts thy thread of Love with twenty swords.   Nature. 
Tell me (O Mirror) of our earthly time,  
Tell me sweet Phoenix glory of mine age,  
Who blots thy Beauty with foul envies crime,  
And locks thee up in fond Suspicions cage?  
Can any human heart bear thee such rage?  
Daunt their proud stomachs with thy piercing Eye,  
Unchain loves sw●etnesse at thy liberty.  Phoenix. 
What is't to bathe me in a wholesome Spring,  
Or wash me in a clear, deep, running Well,  
When I no virtue from the same do bring,  
Nor of the balmy water bear a smell?  
It better were for me 'mongst Crows to dwell,  
Then flock with Doves, when Doves sit always billing,  
And waste my wings of gold, my Beauty killing.  Nature. 
I'll chain foul Envy to a brazen Gate,  
And place deep Malice in a hollow Rock,  
To some black desert Wood I'll banish Hate,  
And fond Suspicion from thy sight I'll lock:  
These shall not stir, let any Porter knock.  
Thou art but young, fresh, green, and must not pass,  
But catch the hot Sun with thy steeled glass.  Phoenix. 
That Sun shines not within this Continent,  
That with his warm rays can my dead Blood cherish,  
Gross cloudy Vapours from this Air is sent,  
Not hot reflecting Beams my heart to nourish.  
O Beauty, I do fear me thou wilt perish;  
Then gentle Nature let me take my flight,  
But ere I pass, set Envy out of sight.  Nature. 
I'll conjure him, and raise him from his grave,  
And put upon his head a punishment:  
Nature thy sportive Pleasure means to save;  
I'll send him to perpetual banishment,  
Like to a tottered Fury raged and rend:  
I'll baffle him, and blind his jealous eye,  
That in thy actions Secrecy would pry.  Phoenix. 
I'll conjure him, I'll raise him from his Cell,  
I'll pull his Eyes from his conspiring head,  
I'll lock him in the place where he doth dwell;  
I'll starve him there, till the poor slave be dead,  
That on the poisonous Adder oft hath fed:  
These threatenings on the Hellhound I will lay,  
But the performance bears the greater sway.  Nature. 

Stand by fair Phoenix, spread thy Wings of gold,  
And daunt the face of Heaven with thine Eye,  
Like junos' bird thy Beauty do unfold,  
And thou shalt triumph over thine enemy:  
Then thou and I in Phoebus' coach will fly,  
Where thou shalt see and taste a secret Fire,  
That will add spreading life to thy Desire.   

Arise thou blear-eyed Envy from thy bed,  
Thy bed of Snaky poison and corruption,  
Unmask thy big-swollen Cheeks with poison red,  
For with thee I must try Conclusion,  
And plague thee with the World's confusion.  
I charge thee by my Power to appear,  
And by Celestial warrant to draw near.   Phoenix. 
O what a misty Damp breaks from the ground,  
Able itself to infect this noisome Air:  
As if a cave of Toads themselves did wound,  
Or poisoned Dragons fell into despair,  
Hell's damned sent with this may not compare,  
And in this foggy cloud there doth arise  
A damned Fiend o'er me to tyrannize.  Nature. 
He shall not touch a Feather of thy wing,  
Or ever have Authority and pow●r,  
As he hath had in his days secret prying,  
Over thy calm Looks to send a shower:  
I'll place thee now in secrecies sweet Bower,  
Where at thy will in sport and dallying,  
Spend out thy time in Amorous discoursing.  Phoenix. 
Look Nurse, look Nature how the Villain sweats,  
His big-swollen Eyes will fall unto the ground,  
With fretting anguish he his blacke-breast beats,  
As if he would true hearted minds confound:  
O keep him back, his sight my heart doth wound:  
O Envy it is thou that mad'st me perish,  
For want of that true Fire my heart should nourish.  Nature. 
But I will plague him for his wickedness,  
Envy go pack thee to some foreign soil,  
To some desertful plain or Wilderness,  
Where savage Monsters and wild beasts do toil,  
And with inhuman Creatures keep a coil.  
Be gone I say, and never do return,  
Till this round compassed world with fire do burn.  Phoenix. 
What is he gone? is Envy packed away?  
Then one fowl blot is moved from his Throne,  
That my poor honest Thoughts did seek to slay:  
Away fowl grief, and over-heavie Moon,  
That do orecharge me with continual groans.  
Will you not hence? then with dowue-falling tears,  
I'll drown myself in ripeness of my Years.  Nature. 
Fie peevish Bird, what art thou frantic mad?  
Wilt thou confound thyself with foolish Grief?  
If there be cause or means for to be had,  
Thy Nurse and nourisher will find relief:  
Then tell me all thy Accidents in brief;  
Have I not banished Envy for thy sake?  
I greater things for thee i'll undertake.  Phoenix. 

Envy is gone and banished from my sight,  
Banished for ever coming any more:  
But in Arabia burns another Light,  
A dark dim Taper that I must adore,  
This barren Country makes me to deplore:  
It is so sapless that the very Spring,  
Makes tender new-growne Plants be withering.   

The noisome Air is grown infectious,  
The very Springs for want of Moisture die,  
The glorious Sun is here pestiferous,  
No herbs for Physic or sweet Surgery,  
No balm to cure hearts inward malady:  
No gift of Nature, she is here defaced,  
Heart-curing Balsamum here is not placed.   Nature. 
Is this the sum and substance of thy woe?  
I● this the Anker-hold unto thy boat?  
Is this thy Sea of Grief doth overflow?  
Is this the River sets thy ship afloat?  
Is this the Lesson thou hast learned by rote?  
And is this all? and is this plot of Ground  
The substance of the Theme doth thee confound?  Phoenix. 
This is the Anker-hold, the Sea, the River,  
The Lesson and the substance of my Song,  
This is the Rock my Ship did seek to shiver,  
And in this ground with Adders was I stung,  
And in a loathsome pit was often flung:  
My Beauty and my Virtues captivate,  
To Love, dissembling Love that I did hate.  Nature. 

Cheer up thy spirit Phoenix, prune thy wings,  
And double-gild thy Feathers for my news;  
A Nightingale and not a Raven sings,  
That from all black contention will excuse  
Thy heavy thoughts, and set them to peruse  
Another Climate, where thou mayst express,  
A plot of Paradise for worthiness.   

jove in divine divineness of his Soul,  
That rides upon his fiery axaltree,  
That with his Mace doth human flesh control,  
When of man's deeds he makes a registry,  
Loving the good for singularity:  
With a veiled Countenance and a gracious Smile,  
Did bid me plant my Bird in Paphos▪ isle.   Phoenix. 

What ill divining Planet did presage,  
My timeless birth so timely brought to light?  
What fatal Comet did his wrath engage▪  
To work a harmless Bird such world's despite,  
Wrapping my days bliss in black ●ables night?  
No Planet nor no Comet did conspire  
My downfall, but foul Fortunes wrathful ire.   

What did my Beauty move her to Disdain?  
Or did my▪ Virtues shadow all her Bliss?  
That she should place me in a desert Plain,  
And send forth Envy with a judas kiss,  
To sting me with a Scorpions poisoned hiss?  
From my first birthright for to plant me hear,  
Where I have always fed on Grief and Fear.   Nature. 
Rail not 'gainst Fortune's sacred Deity,  
In youth thy virtuous patience she hath tired,  
From this base earth she'll lift thee up on high,  
Where in Contents rich Chariot thou shalt ride,  
And never with Impatience to abide:  
Fortune will glory in thy great renown,  
And on thy feathered head will set a crown.  Phoenix. 
'Twas time to come, for I was comfortless,  
And in my Youth have been Infortunate:  
This I'll of Paphos I do hope will bless,  
And alter my halfe-rotten tottering state;  
My heart's Delight was almost ruinate.  
In this rich I'll a Turtle had his nest,  
And in a Wood of gold took up his rest.  Nature. 
Fly in this Chariot, and come sit by me,  
And we will leave this ill corrupted Land,  
We'll take our course through the blue Azure sky,  
And set our feet on Paphos golden sand,  
There of that Turtle Dove we'll understand:  
And visit him in those delightful plains,  
Where Peace conjoined with Plenty still remains.  Phoenix. 
I come, I come, and now farewell that strand,  
Upon whose craggy rocks my Ship was rend;  
Your ill beseeming follies made me fond,  
And in a vasty Cell I up was penned,  
Where my fresh blooming Beauty I have spent.  
O blame yourselves ill nurtured cruel Swains,  
That filled my scarlet Glory full of stains.  Nature. 
Welcome immortal Beauty, we will ride  
Over the Semicircle of Europa,  
And bend our course where we will see the Tide,  
That parts the Continent of Africa,  
Where the great Cham governs Tartary:  
And when the starry Curtain vales the night,  
In Paphos' sacred Isle we mean to light.  Phoenix. 
How glorious is this Chariot of the day,  
Where Phoebus in his crystal robes is set,  
And to poor passengers directs a way:  
O happy time since I with Nature met,  
My immelodious Discord I unfret:  
And sing sweet Hymns, burn Myrrh & Frankincense,  
Honour that Isle that is my sure defence.  Nature. 
Look Phoenix o'er the world as thou dost ride,  
And thou shalt see the palaces of Kings,  
Great huge-built Cities where high States abide,  
Temples of Gods, and Altars with rich offerings,  
To which the Priests their sacrifices brings:  
Wonders past wonder, strange Pyramids,  
And the gold-gathering Strong of Euphrates.  〈◊〉. 
O what rich pleasure dwelleth in this Land!  
Green springing Meadows, high upreared Hills,  
The white-fleest Ewe brought tame unto the hand,  
Fair running Rivers that the Country fills,  
Sweet flowers that fair balmy Dew distills,  
Great peopled Cities, whose earth-gracing show,  
Time is ashamed to touch or overthrow!  Nature. 

Besilent gentle Phoenix▪ I'll repeat,  
Some of these City's names that we descry,  
And of their large foundation I'll entreat,  
Their Fonnder that first reared them up on high,  
Making a glorious Spectacle to each eye:  
Wars walled Defender and the Country's grace,  
Not battered yet with Times controlling Mace.   

Alfred the father of fair El●●eda, 
This Alf●ed first divided England into Shires, being King of No●thumb●rs.   
Founded three goodly famous Monasteries,  
In this large I'll of sweet Britania,  
For to refresh the poor soul's miseries,  
That were afflicted with calamities:  
One in the Town surnamed Edlingsey,  
Which after ages called Athelney.   

The second House of that Devotion,  
He did erect at worthy Winchester,  
A place well planted with Religion,  
Called in this age the new-builded Minster,  
Still kept in notable reparation: 
Alfred buried in the Cathedral Church of Winchester.   
And in this famous builded Monument,  
His body was interred when life was spent.   

The last not least surpassing all the rest,  
Was Oxford's honourable foundation, 
The University of Oxford built by Alfred.   
Since when with Learning's glory it is blest,  
Begun by the godly exhortation  
Of the Abbot Neotus direction:  
From whose rich womb pure Angel-like Divinity,  
Hath sprung to save us from Calamity.   

Leyre the son of Baldud being admitted,  
To bear the burden of the British sway,  
A Prince with Nature's glory being fitted, 
This Sore is a River that runneth by Leicester, called of some Brenber water.   
At what time joas reigned King of juda,  
To make his new got Fame to last for ay,  
By Sore he built the Town of Caerleir,  
That to this day is called Leycester.   

Belin that famous worthy Britain King, 
In this City were three famous Churches one of S. julius the Martyr, the second of S. Aron: and the other the mother Church of all Demetia.   
That made the Towns of France to fear his frown,  
And the whole Romish Legion to sing.  
And to record his gracious great renown,  
Whose host of men their Towns were firing:  
Builded in Southwals' height Caerlion,  
Or termed Arwiske Caerlegion.   

This glorious City was the only Pride,  
In eldest age of all Demetia:  
Where many notable Monuments abide▪ 
This Belin also built a notable Gate in London now called Billings gate & Belin's Castle.   
To grace the Country of Britania,  
That from Time's memory can never slide:  
Amphibulus was borne in this sweet place,  
Who taught S. Albon, Albon full of grace.   

King Lud surnamed the great Lud-hurdibras,  
The son of Leil, builded the famous Town  
Of Kaerkin, with a huge Tower of brass, 
Lud, father t● Baldud, a man well seen in the Sciences of Astronomy and Necromancy.   
Now called Canterbury of great renown,  
Able to bide the raging Foes stout frown:  
The Metropolitans seat where Learning sits,  
And chief of all our English bishoprics.   

This noble King builded fair Caerguent,  
Now cleped Winchester of worthy fame, 
This Baldud son of Lud-Hurdibras, made first the hot Baths at Caerbran, now called bath.   
And at Mount Paladour he built his Tent,  
That after ages Shaftsburie hath to name,  
His first foundation from King Leyls son came:  
About which building Prophet Aquila,  
Did prophesy in large Brytania.   

King Leill a man of great religion, 
He also repaired the City of Caer l●on, now called Chester.   
That made his bordering neighbours for to yield,  
And on their knees to plead Submission,  
Being elder son to Brute surnamed Greenshield,  
The City of Caerleits he did build,  
Now called Carleyle by corruption,  
And Time that leads things to confusion.   

Cambridge a famous University, 
The City of Cambridge built in the days of Gurguntius the son of Beline, by one Cantaber a Spaniard, brother to Partholony, or as some write by Gorbonian.   
The Nurse of Learning and Experience,  
The Chearisher of true Divinity,  
That for the Souls good wisdom doth commence,  
Confuting Vice, and driving Error thence:  
Was built by Sigisbert: but wrought effectually  
By Kings and Lords of famous memory.   

Ebranke the son of stout Mempritius,  
Having in matrimonial copulation,  
Twenty one wives in large 
* Rithmi gratia.  Britanicus,  
And thirty daughters by just computation,  
And twenty sons of estimation,  
Builded Caerbranke famous for the name,  
Now called England's York a place of Fame.   

He in Albania large and populous,  
Now termed Scotland of the Scottish Sect,  
Because his deeds should still be counted famous,  
The Castle of Maidens there he did erect,  
And to good purpose did this work effect:  
But iron-eating Time the Truth doth stain,  
For Edingburgh the City doth remain.   

And in that Maiden Castle he did frame,  
To grace the building to the outward eye,  
Nine Images of stone placed in the same,  
Which since have stayed times perpetuetie,  
In the true form of workman's excellency:  
Not any whit diminished, but as perfect  
As in the first●dayes minute they were set.   Phoenix. 
Nature I muse at your description,  
To see how Time that old rust-cankard wretch,  
honours forgetful Friend, City's confusion,  
That in all Monuments hath made a Breach,  
To ancient names brought alteration:  
And yet at this day snch a place remains,  
That all Times honour passed with honour stains.  Nature. 

Those carved old-cut stony Images,  
That beautify the Prince's stately Towers,  
That graces with their grace the Palaces,  
And high imperial Emperizing bowers,  
Were never razed by Times controlling hours:  
Nine worthy women almost equivalent,  
With those nine worthy men so valiant.   

Three of the nine were jews, and three were Gentiles,  
Three Christians, honours honourable Sex,  
That from their foes did often bear the spoils,  
And did their proud controlling neighbours vex,  
Which to their name did Nobleness annex,  
An Emblem for true borne Gentility,  
To imitate their deeds in chivalry.   

The first Minerva a right worthy Pagon,  
That many manlike battles manly fought,  
She first devised Artillery of iron,  
And Armour for our backs she first found out,  
Putting our li●es dear hazard from some doubt:  
She governed the Libyans, and got Victories,  
With Honour by the lake 
* Lacus Mi●●ae.  Tritonides.   

Our main pitched Battles she first ordered,  
Setting a Form down to this following Age,  
The orders of Encamping she first registered,  
And taught the laws of Arms in equipage,  
To after time her skill she did engage:  
Apollo was her dear begotten son,  
In Abraham's time she lived till life was done.   

Semiramis Queen of Assiria,  
Was second worthy of this world's great wonder,  
She conquered large Aethiopia,  
And brought the Neck of that stout Nation under,  
Wasting the Countries of rich India:  
Her days of Honour and of Regiment,  
Was in the time of isaack's government.   

The third and chiefest for Audaciousness,  
And Enterprises that she took in hand,  
Was Tomyris full of true Nobleness,  
Queen of the North (as I do understand,)  
From forth her eyes she lightened Honours Brand,  
And brandished a Sword, a sword of Fame,  
That to her weak Sex yielded Hector's name.   

When she received news her son was dead,  
The Hope and Underprop of Scythia,  
She put on Armour, and encountered  
The Monarch Cyrus' King of Persia,  
And Governor of rich Getulia:  
Slew him in sight her Fame for to renew,  
Two hundred thousand Soldiers overthrew.   

Amongst the Hebrew women we commend,  
jahel the Kenite for the first in bounty,  
Whose uncomprehensible valour in the end,  
Did free and set at large her captived Country,  
Oppressed with tyrannical Miseri●:  
From dangers imminent of ●irie War,  
By kill hand to hand her foe great Sisar.   

Deborah an Hebrew worthy the second place,  
She forty years did govern Israel,  
In peace preserved her Land, her land of Grace,  
Where honest sportive Mirth did always dwell:  
Her holy holiness no tongue can tell,  
Nations astonished at her happiness,  
Did grieve to lose her wisdoms worthiness.   

judith the third that redelivered,  
The strong besieged City of Bethulia,  
And when the proud Foe she had vanquished,  
And overcame hot-spured Assiria,  
Bringing in triumph Holofernes head,  
She got a great and greater Victory,  
Then thousand Soldiers in their majesty.   

The first of Christians was fair Maud the Countess,  
Countess of Anjou, daughter to a King▪  
England's first Henry: Almains Empress,  
Heir in dubitate, and her Father's offspring,  
She titles to the English Crown did bring:  
She ne'er desisted from the warlike field,  
Till that usurped Stephen of Blois did yield,  
And condescended to her sons dear right,  
That warlike Maude had reobtained by might.   

The second was Elizabeth of Arragon,  
Queen and wife to honourable Ferdinando:  
She stoutly fought for propagation  
Of Christian Faith; brought to subversion,  
The forsaken infidels of Granado,  
Reducing that p●oud province all in one,  
To follow Christ's unspotted true Religion.   

The last was johane of Naples true borne Queen,  
Sister to Ladislaus King of Hungary,  
A woman that defended (as 'twas seen,)  
Her country's great and gracious liberty,  
By force of laudable Arms and Chivalry,  
Against the Saracens invasion,  
And proud hot wars of princely Arragon.   

Thus have I in the honour of their worth,  
Laid open their Progeny, their Deeds, their Arms,  
Their offspring, and their honourable Birth,  
That is a Lantern lightning their true Fames,  
Which Truth can never burn in envies flames:  
Worthy of wonder are these three times three,  
Folded in brazen Leaves of memory.   

Windsor a Castle of exceeding strength,  
First built by Arviragus Britain's King,  
But finished by Arthur at the length,  
Of whose rare deeds our Chronicles do ring,  
And Poets in their verse his praise do sing:  
For his Round-table and his warlike Fights,  
Whose valiantness the coward Mind affrights.   

This British King in wars a Conqueror,  
And wondrous happy in his Victories,  
Was a companion of this noble Order,  
And with his person graced these Dignities,  
Great dignities of high exceeding Valour:  
For he himself the self-same Honour took,  
That all his following States did ever brook.   

This Paragon whose name our time affrights,  
At Windsor Castle dubbed in one day,  
One hundred and just forty valiant Knights,  
With his keen trusty Sword, and only stay,  
(Called Dridwin) that his Love did oversway:  
And with that Sword the very day before,  
He slew as many Saxon fo●s or more.   

But English Edward third of Memory,  
In blessed and religious zeal of Love,  
Built up a College of exceeding glory,  
That his kind care to England did approve,  
This College doth this Castle beautify:  
The Honour of the place is held so dear,  
That many famous Kings are buried th●re.   

But one rare thing exceeding admirable,  
That to this day is held in great renown,  
And to all Foreigners is memorable,  
The Name of which makes England's foes to frown,  
And pulls the pride of foreign Nations down,  
Knights of the Garter and Saint George's Cross,  
Betok'ning to the Foe a bloody loss.    

Here followeth the Birth, Life and Death of honourable Arthur King of Britain.  

To the courteous Reader.  
COurteous Reader, having spoken of the first foundation of that yet renowned castle of Windsor by Arviragus king of Britain, & finished by that succeeding prince of worthy memory famous king Arthur; I thought good (being entreated by some of my honourable-minded Friends, not to let slip so good and fit an occasion, by reason that there yet remains in this doubtful age of opinions, a controversy of that esteemed Prince of Britain) to write not according to age's oblivion, but directed only by our late Historiographers of England, who no doubt have taken great pains in the searching forth of the truth of that first Christian Worthy: and whereas (I know not directed by what blindness) there have been some Writers (as I think enemies to truth) that in their erroneous censures have thought no such man ever to be living; How fabulous that should seem to be, I leave to the judgement of the best readers, who know for certain, that that never dead Prince of memory, is more beholding to the French, the Roman, the Scot, the Italian, yea to the greeks themselves, then to his own Countrymen, who have fully and wholly set forth his fame and livelihood: then how shameless is it for some of us, to let slip the truth of this Monarch? And for more confirmation of the truth, look but in the Abbey of Westminster at Saint Edward's shrine, there shalt thou see the print of his royal Seal in red wax closed in Berrill, with this inscription, Patricius Arthurus galley, Germaniae, Daciae Imperator, At Dover likewise you may see Sir Gawin's skull and cradock's mantle: At Winchester, a City well known in England, his famous round Table, with many other notable monuments too long to rehearse: Besides I myself have seen imprinted, a french Pamphlet of the arms of king Arthur, and his renowned valiant Knights, set in colours by the Heralds of France: which charge of impression would have been too great, otherwise I had inserted them orderly in his Life and Actions: but (gentle Reader) take this my pains gratefully, and I shall hereafter more willingly strive to employ my simple wit to thy better gratulation; I have here set down (turned from French prose into English meeter) the words of the Herald under the arms of that worthy Britain.  
King Arthur in his warlike Shield did bear  
Thirteen rich Crowns of purified gold▪  
He was a valiant noble Conqueror,  
As ancient Memory hath truly told:  
His great Round-table was in Brittany▪  
Where chosen Knights did do their homage yearly.   

The strange Birth, honourable Coronation, and most unhappy Death of famous Arthur King of Britain.  

OF noble Arthur's birth, of Arthur's fall,  
Of Arthur's solemn Coronation,  
Of Arthur's famous deeds Heroical,  
Of Arthur's battles and invasion,  
And that high minded worthy British King,  
Shall my wit's memory be deifying.   

In the last time of ●ter surnamed Pendragon▪  
So called for his witty policies,  
Being a King of estimation,  
In famous Britain 'mongst his own allies,  
There was a mighty Duke that governed Cornwall,  
That held long warr●, and did this King assail.   

This Duke was named the Duke of Tintagil:  
After these hot bred wars were come to end,  
He sojourned at a place called Terrabil,  
From whence Pendragon for this Duke did send,  
And being wounded sore with Cupid's sting,  
Charged him his Wife unto the Court to bring.   

His Wife a passing Lady, lovely, wife,  
Chaste to her husbands clear unspotted bed,  
Whose honor-bearing Fame none could surprise,  
But Vesta-like her little time she led:  
Igrene her name on whose unequal beauty  
Pendragon doted, led by human folly.   

At length ●e broke his mind unto a Lord,  
A trusty councillor and noble Friend,  
That soon unto his mind's grief did accord,  
And his Kings loving love-thoughts did commend,  
Telling Pendragon this should be his best,  
To tell the Duchess of his sweet request.   

But she a Woman, stern, inexorable,  
Willing fond Lust's enchantments to resist,  
All his tongues smoothing words not penetrable,  
In her chaste bosoms Gate could not insist,  
But strait she told her Husband how she sped,  
Lest that his grace should be dishonoured.   

And counselled him to pass away in haste,  
That Night's dark dusky mantle might o'er shade,  
Their flying bodies, lest at last they taste,  
More misery than Time did ere invade,  
" For Lust is such a hot inflamed thing,  
" It governeth man's senses, rules a King.   

And as the Duchess spoke, the Duke departed,  
That neither Uter nor his Council knew,  
How his deep bosoms 
* Cupid.  Lord the Duchess thwarted,  
But mark the story well what did ensue:  
Soon as the King perceived their intent,  
Intemperate Rage made him impatient.   

Away with Music for your strings do jar,  
Your sound is full of Discords, harsh and ill,  
Your Diapazon, makes a humming war  
Within mine ears, and doth my senses fill  
With immelodious mourning; She is gone  
That ruled yourselves and Instruments alone.   

Away fond rhyming Ovid, lest thou write  
Of Progne's murder, or Lucreti● rape,  
Of Igrens' journey taken in the night,  
That in the black gloomed silence did escape:  
O could no Dog have barked, no Cock have crowed▪  
That might her passage to the King have showed.   

No mirth pleased Uter, but grim Melancholy  
Haunted his heels, and when he sat to rest,  
He pondered in his mind Igrenas beauty,  
Of whom his care-crazed head was full possessed:  
Nothing was now contentive to his mind,  
But Igrenes name, Igrene to him unkind.   

At last his noble Peers with pity moved,  
To see the King's sudden perplexity,  
With a great care that their Liege Emperor loved,  
For to allay his great extremity,  
Did counsel him to send for Garloyes wife,  
As he would answer it upon his life.   

Then presently a Messenger was sent,  
To tell the Duke of his wife's secret folly:  
This was the substance of his whole intent,  
To bring his wife to Court immediately:  
Or within threescore days he did protest,  
To fetch him thither to his little rest.   

Which when the Duke had warning, strait he furnish'●  
Two Castles with wel-fenced artillery,  
With victuals and with men he garnished,  
His strongest Holds for such an enemy:  
And in the one he put his hearts-deare Treasure,  
Fair Igrene that he loved out of measure,   

That Castle which the Duke himself did hold,  
Had many Posterns out and issues thence,  
In which to trust his life he might be bold,  
And safely the warns Fury to commence:  
But after-telling time did wonders wo●ke,  
That Foxes in their holes can never lurk.   

Then in all haste came Uter with his host,  
Pitching his rich pavilions on the ground,  
Of his aspiring mind he did not boast,  
For Love and Anger did his thoughts confound,  
Hot war was made on both sides, people s●aine,  
And many Death-doore-knocking Souls complain.   

Love and minds anguish so perplexed the King,  
For Igrene that incomparable Dame,  
That Cupid's sickness pierced him with a sting,  
And his wars loud Alarms overcame,  
Venus entreated Mars awhile to stay,  
And make this time a sporting Holiday.   

Then came sir Vl●i●s a most noble Knight,  
And asked his king the cause of his disease,  
Being willing in a subjects gracious right,  
Vt● 〈◊〉 mind in heart to please:  
Ah said the K●ng, Igrene doth captivate  
My Heart, and makes my Se●ses subjugate.   

Courage my gracious Liege▪ I will go find  
That true divining prophet of our Nation,  
M●rlin the wise that shall content your mind,  
And be a Moderator in this action:  
His learning, wisdom, and unseen experienc●,  
Shall quickly give a Salve for loves offence,   

So Vl●ius at the length from him departed,  
A●king for Merlin as he passed the way,  
Who by great fortunes chance sir Vl●ius thwarted,  
As he went by in beggars base array:  
Demanding of the Knight in baseness meek,  
Who was the man he went so far to seek?   

Vl●ius amazed at his base attire,  
●old him it was presumption to demand  
The name of him for whom he did inquire,  
And therefore would not yield to his command:  
Alas said Merlin I do plainly see,  
Merlin you seek, that Merlin I am he.   

And if the King will but fulfil my hest,  
And will reward my true deserving heart,  
In his loves agonies he shall be blest,  
So that he follow what I shall impart,  
Upon my Knighthood he will honour thee,  
With favour & rewards most royally.   

Then Vlfius glad departed in all haste,  
And road amain to king Pendragon's sight,  
Telling his Grace Merlin he me● at last,  
That like a Lamp will give his Lovelays light.  
Where is the man? I wished for him before.  
See where he stands my Liege at yonder door.   

When Uter saw the man, a sudden joy,  
And vncompre'nded gladness fi●d his heart:  
With kind embracements met him on the way,  
And to him 'gan his secrets to impart.  
Leave off, quoth Merlin, I do know your mind,  
The fair-faced Lady Igrene is unkind.   

But if your Majesty will here protest,  
And swear as you are lawful King anointed,  
To do my will, nothing shall you molest,  
But follow my directions being appointed.  
I swear quoth Uter by the Evangelists,  
He dies for me that once thy will resists.   

Sir, said the Prophet Merline, this I crave,  
That shall betoken well what ere betide,  
The first fair sportive Night that you shall have,  
Lying safely nuzzled by fair Igrenes side,  
You shall beget a son whose very Name,  
In after-stealing Time his foes shall tame.   

That child being borne your Grace must give to me,  
For to be nourished at my appointment,  
That shall redound much to his majesty,  
And to your Graces' gracious good intent:  
That shall be done: (quoth Merlin) let's away▪  
For you shall sleep with Igrene ere't be day.   

And as jove stole to fair Al●men●s bed,  
I● counterfeiting great Amphytrio,  
By the same lust-directed line being led,  
To Igrenes lovely chamber must you go:  
You shall be like the Duke her husband's greatness,  
And in his place possess her Husband's sweetness▪   

And you my noble Lord sit Vl●ius,  
Shall be ●uch like sir Brustias a fair Knight,  
And I will counterfeit the good jordanus,  
And thus we'll pass together in the night,  
But see you question not, say you are diseased,  
And hie to bed there shall your heart be pleased.   

But on the morrow do not rise my Liege,  
Vn●ill I come to council for the best,  
For ten miles off you know doth lie the Siege,  
That will not turn these night-sports to a jest▪  
Pendragon pleased hasted for to embrace,  
The sweetest got pray that ever King did chase.   

Soon as the Duke of Tintagill did perceive,  
That Uter left alone his royal army,  
He issued from his Castle to bereave,  
The soldiers of their lives by policy:  
But see his fortune, by that wily train,  
That he had laid for others he was slain.   

The subtill-lust directed King went on,  
Masked in a strange devised new found shape,  
To simple-minded Igrene unlike Pendragon,  
And three long hours lay in his lovers lap:  
There he begat the christian King of Kings,  
Whose fame Caister Swans in pleasure sings.   

Assoon as day-betok'ning Phoebus' Chariot,  
Had crossed his sister's wagon in the sky,  
Merlin in haste to Uter's chamber got,  
Bidding good morrow to his Majesty:  
And told him unrecalled Time did stay,  
To haste him from his pleasure thence away.   

Uter amazed with Igrene in his arms,  
Wished that the Prophet had no use of tongue,  
Whose doleful sound breathed forth these harsh Alarms,  
And like the night-Crow craokt a deadly song▪  
Ah what a hell of grief 'twas to depart,  
And leave the new-got Treasure of his heart.   

Then by the lawne-like Hand he took his lover,  
Being warmed with blood of a dissembling Husband,  
Desire in her cheeks she could not smother,  
And her Love-dazeling eye none could withstand:  
He kissed her twice or thrice and bade adun,  
As willing his night's pleasure to renew:   

But when the late betrayed Lady knew,  
How that her true betrothed Lord was slain,  
Ere that nights reveling did first ensue,  
In secret to herself she wept amain:  
Amazed and marveling who that should be,  
That robbed her husband of his treasury.   

And to herself she 'gan for to relate,  
The injuries of her unspotted life,  
And in her mind she lived disconsolate,  
Banning her base-bad Fortune being a wife;  
Wishing for ever she had lived a maid,  
Rather than her chaste thoughts should be betrayed.   

The noble Council that attended Uter,  
Began with gravity for to devise,  
That (where their King had doted much upon her)  
Her beauty his young thoughts to equalize,  
To knit them both in Hymen's sacred right,  
And then in lawful wi●e to ●ast delight.   

This motion made unto their Sovereign,  
Of a warm lus●●e stomach youthful blood,  
Thought it a heaven such a Saint to gain,  
That would revive his spirits, do him good:  
And gave consent to have her honoured,  
With marriage Rites, the which were soon performed.   

Half a year after as the King and Queen,  
Then growing great with child a bed were lying,  
The Curtains drawn unwilling to be seen:  
This policy the King himself devising:  
Ask whose child it was that she did bear,  
Speak gentle Igren● tell me without fear,   

The Queen amazed at this question,  
Being fully wrapped in pale timidity,  
Knew not to answer this sad action,  
Because she fully knew her innocency:  
He urged her still, at length she waxed bold,  
And stoutly to the King the truth she told.   

With that he kissed his Queen that was beguiled,  
And did recomfort her being half forlorn,  
Telling 'twas he that did beget the child,  
The child that from her fair womb should be borne:  
With that a sudden joy did repossess  
Her pensive heart, whom Fortune late did bless.   

Then Merlin (that did always love the King,  
As bearing chief affiance to his country)  
Sought to provide for the child's nourishing,  
Therein to show his well disposed duty.  
As thou decreest said Uter, must it be,  
My dear Sons fortunes I'll commit to thee.   

Well said the Prophet, I do know a Lord,  
A faithful passing tru● disposed man,  
That to your Grace's pleasure will accord,  
And in your service do the best he can:  
Commit your child unto his custody,  
A man renowned in famous Brittany.   

His name Sir Hector: send a Messenger,  
To will him come unto the Court with speed,  
And that your Mai●sti● must needs confer,  
Of matters helpful in a Prince's need.  
When he is come your Grace may certify,  
You'll put your son & heir to his delivery.   

And when that Fortune's child kind Fortune's heir,  
(For so the Destiny's prognosticate)  
Sh●ll be brought forth into the open air,  
That of fair Igrene lately was be gate:  
At yonder privy Postern being unchristened,  
You must deliver it me to be baptised.   

As Merlin had devised, so 'twas done:  
For all the Court to him did yield obeisance:  
And now Sir Hector to the King is come,  
And to Pendragon made his dear affiance,  
Wishing his Wife might nourish that bright son,  
Whose Mornings glory was not yet begun.   

Then when the lovely Queen was soon delivered,  
Of that rich bearing Burden to her joy,  
The King himself in person hath commanded,  
Two Ladies and two Knights to bear the boy▪  
Bound up in cloth of gold being rich of State,  
And give it to the pooreman at the gate,   

So Merlin had the Prince at his disposing,  
Committing it to Hector's faithful wife:  
Now nothing wanted but the sweet baptizing.  
To grace the Prince of Princes all his life:  
A holy reverent Man ind●'de with fame,  
Arthur of Britain called the Prince's name.   

After the royal Solemnation,  
Of that black mournful weeping funeral,  
Of Uter that we name the great Pendragon,  
By subtle practice brought unto his fall:  
The sixteenth year of his victorious reign,  
By poison was this brave Pendragon slain.   

His body unto stonehenge being brought,  
Hard by his brother Aur●lius is he laid,  
In a fair Monument then richly wrought,  
Dead is the King whose life his foes dismayed,  
But from his loyves he left a son behind,  
The right Idea of his father's mind.   

Great Arthur whom we call the Britain's King,  
A man renowned for famous victories,  
Saxons and picts to homage he did bring, 
〈…〉.   
As you may read in ancient histories:  
Our later Chronicles do testify,  
King Arthur's noble mind in Chivalry.   

Twelve noble battles did King Arthur fight,  
Against the Saxons men of hardy strength,  
And in the battles put them still to flight,  
Bringing them in subjection at the length:  
He never strove to drive them quit● away▪  
But straggling here and there he let them ●tay▪   

In Southry, Kent, and Norfolk did they dwell,  
Still owing homage to king Arthures greatness,  
Whose puissance their pride did always quell,  
Yet did he temper rigour with his meekness:  
And like a Lion scorned to touch the Lamb,  
Where they submissive-like unto him came,   

Against the picts he held continual war,  
The which unto the Saxons were allied,  
And with the subtle Scot did always jar,  
Who never true to Arthur would abide:  
But (scorning his advancement to the Crown)  
Did think by force to pull his greatness down.   

The chiefest cause of this hot mortal strife,  
That moved these Kings to be dissentious,  
Was that the King of picts had ta'en to wife  
The ●ldest sister of Aureliu●,  
And Cornon king of Scots had married  
The youngest sister to his Princely bed▪   

Wherefore they thought the British Regiment,  
Should have descended to the lawful heirs  
Of Anna, wife to both in government,  
And he as King to rule their great affairs:  
And do infer king Arthures barstardie,  
And unjust claim to that high dignity.   

And presently they do dispatch i● haste,  
Ambassadors to famous Brytanie,  
Of their great Peers for to demand at last,  
The kingdoms Crown and kingdoms Royalty:  
Who scorning for to hear a stranger named,  
Crowned king Arthur, whom the world hath famed.    

The Coronation of King Arthur, and the Solemnity thereof: the proud message of the Romans, and the whole resolution of King Arthur and his Nobles.  

THe appointed time and great Solemnity,  
Approached of king Arthur's Coronation,  
To which high states of mighty Dignity,  
Assembled at the City of Caerlean,  
In Caesar's time called Vrbs Legionum:  
A Title doubtless b●●ring some import,  
Where many famous Britons did resort.   

To grace king Arthur whom the Britain's loved▪  
Came th●ee Arch bishops England's chief renown,  
Both London, York▪ and Dubright Honour moved,  
On Arthur's head to set the British Crown,  
That after pulled the pride of Nations down:  
Unto the Palace of this 〈◊〉 King▪  
They were conveyed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 born Fame did spring.   

Dubright (because the Court at that time lay  
Within the co●pas●e of hi● 〈◊〉)  
In his own p●●son o● thi● Royal day,  
Richly to fur●ish him he did 〈◊〉,  
His love unto his King he did express,  
And at his hands the King was dignified,  
When ave Caesar loud the people cried.   

This happy Coronation being e●ded,  
The King was brought in sumptuous royalty,  
With all the people's hearts being befriended,  
To the Cathedral church of that ●●me See,  
Being the Metropolitical in nobility,  
With loud exclaiming joy of people's voice,  
That God might bless their Land for such a choice▪   

On either hand did two Archbishops ride,  
Supporting Arthur of Brita●ia,  
And sour Kings before him did abide,  
Angisell King of stout Albania,  
And Cadual King of Venedoci●,  
Cador of Cornwall 'mongst these Prince's past▪  
And Sater of Demetia was the last.   

These ●oure attired in ●ich ornaments,  
Four golden Sword● before the King did bear,  
Betokening four royal Governments,  
And four true Noble hearts not dreading fear,  
That Envy from their 〈◊〉 can never tear:  
Before them play 〈…〉- tuned melody,  
That birds did sing to make it heavenly.   

King Arthur's Queen unto the Church was brought▪  
With many noble Peer●● being conducted:  
Her Arms and Titles royally were wrought,  
And to her noble Fame were garnished▪  
That Infamy had near diminished:  
Four Queens before her bore four silver Doves,  
Expressing their true Faith and husband's Loves.   

To brave King Arthur on this solem●e feast,  
This day of high unspeakable dignity,  
Came four grave discreet persons of the best,  
From Rome's Lieutenant, proud in Majesty,  
Carrying in token of their Embassage,  
Green Olive boughs, and their dear Liege's message▪    

The Epistle of Lucius Tiberius the Roman Lieutenant, to Arthur King of Brittany.  
LVcius Tiberius, Rome's great governor,  
To Arthur King of large Britania▪  
As he deserveth favour a● our hands:  
Rome and the Roman Senators do wonder▪  
And I myself exceedingly do muse,  
To think of thy audacious haughty mind,  
And thy tyrannical dealing to our State:  
Hot fiery Anger boileth in my breast,  
And I am moved with honour of the cause,  
For to revenge thy Injuries to Rome:  
And that like one or'proud of his estate,  
Refusest to acknowledge her thy head,  
Neither regardest speedily to redress,  
Thy base and blind oblivious oversight,  
And unjust dealing to offend the Senate▪  
Unto whose high imperial Dignity,  
Unless Forgetfulness do blear thine eyes,  
Thou know'st the whole huge Circle of the world,  
Are made Contributory and owe us homage.  
The tribute that the Britain's ought to pay,  
The which the Senate did demand of thee,  
Being due unto the Roman Empery:  
For that brave julius Caesar had enjoyed,  
And many worthy Romans many years,  
Thou in contempt of us and our Estate,  
Our honourable Estate and dignity,  
Presum'st injuriously for to detain:  
The confines of wel-seated Gallia,  
The Provinces of Savoy and Dauphin,  
With hot-stamed fiery war hast thou subdued,  
And gotten in thy large possession;  
The islands of the bordering Ocean,  
The Kings whereof so long as we enjoyed them,  
Paid tribute to our Noble ancestors.  
The Senate highly moved with thy presumption,  
Determine for to redemaund amends,  
And restitution for thy open wrongs:  
I therefore from the noble Senators,  
Command thee on thy true Allegiance,  
To Rome, to them, to me, and our Estate,  
That in the midst of August next ensuing,  
Thou do repair to Rome, there for to answer,  
Before the worthy Senate and the Lords  
Thy Trespass; and abide arbitr●ment,  
Such as by them shall there be ordered,  
And justice shall impose upon thy head:  
Which thing if thou presumptuously refuse,  
I will forthwith invade thy Territories,  
Wast thy whole Country, burn thy Towns and Cities;  
And what so ere thy rashness hath detained,  
From Rome or from the Roman Empery,  
I will by dint of sword subdue again.  
Thus armed with hopeful Resolution,  
we'll stay thy answer of submission.  
Lu. Tib.   

Cador the Duke of Cornwall his Oration to the King.  
Renowned Arthur and thrice-worthie Britain:  
O how a lively blood doth fill my veins,  
At this proud message of the haughty romans,  
I hitherto my Lord have been in fear,  
Lest that the worthy Britain's with much ease,  
And long continual, peace and quietness,  
Should grow to too much sloth and cowardice,  
And lose that honourable Reputation,  
Of Chivalry and Martial discipline:  
Wherein (right Noble King) we have been counted,  
For to surmount all Nations of the world.  
For where the use of Arms is not esteemed,  
But buried in oblivions loathsome cave,  
And want on dallying held in aestimate,  
It cannot choose but pale-faced Cowardice,  
Must dim and clean deface all worthy Virtue▪  
Five years have fully run their monthly course,  
Sin●e 〈◊〉 pu● off our a●●our from our backs,  
Or heard the Trumpets clang or in our ears,  
Or marcet in triumph with the rattling Drum,  
Being ●uzzeled in ess●m●nate delights,  
G●d wil●ing that our names should not be blotted,  
●ith the ●oule stain of beastly sluggardi●,  
H●th stirred up the proud insulting Romans,  
To wh●t our dull edged swords not now in use,  
To ●ut their heads off in this rightful cause,  
And scour our rusty Armour long laid up,  
To buckle with so proud an enemy,  
Therefore great Arthur in thy greatness raise  
Thy colours up, for to uprear thy praise.  
Ca Cor.   

The Oration of King Arthur to his Lords and Followers.  
MY Fellows and my dear Companions,  
●●th in the adverse chances of our age,  
And prosperous successful happiness,  
Whose true unspeakable fidelities,  
In giving counsel touching wars abroad,  
And homebred mutinies amongst ourselves,  
With good succesfulness have I perceived,  
In your deep wisdoms and your g●●●itie.  
Afford me now your honourable 〈◊〉,  
Wisely foreseeing what you think convenient,  
Touching the proud commandment sent from Rome,  
A thing at first carefully deliberated,  
Is in the end most easily tolerated:  
We therefore shall with easier burden brook,  
The haughty message of Tiberius Lucius,  
If 'mongst ourselves in wisdom we confer,  
How and which way to answer his demand,  
And surely (noble Followers) I suppose,  
We have no cause to fear their foreign braves,  
For that upon a most unjust request,  
He seeks to have a tribute paid from Britain,  
Because forsooth in julius Caesar's time,  
Through jars and discords of the ancient Britain,  
The tribute hath been due and payable:  
For when our country was at full possessed,  
With civil garboils and domestic brawls,  
Their Caesar did arrive wihin this land,  
And with this armed soldiers full of force,  
Brought in subjection that unquiet Nation,  
By this alleadgance they unjustly crave,  
Tribute and satisfaction at our hands,  
For nothing that is got by violence,  
May justly be possessed by violence.  
Sith therefore he presumeth to demand,  
A thing being most unlawful at our hands,  
By the same reason let us demand of him,  
Tribute at Rome maugre their Romish power,  
And he that is the mightier in force,  
Let him possess the honour of the tribute,  
For if his allegations and demands,  
Be forcible and worthy to be kept,  
Because their Caesar and some Roman Princes,  
Have sometimes conquered Brytania,  
By the like reason I do think that Rome,  
Ought to pay tribute and to do us homage,  
Because my Predecessors conquered it:  
Bellin the noble King of Brytanie,  
With his brave brother Brennus' warlike aid,  
Being then accounted Sauoies noble Duke,  
Razed the walls of Rome, and set his Standard  
With victory upon the City gates,  
And in the middle of their Market place,  
Hung up twenty of their chiefest Noblemen.  
And Constantine the son of Helena,  
And Maximinianus my near Cousin's,  
W●re both inthroniz'din the Imperial seat,  
And government of Rome's great Empery▪  
As touching France and other islands there,  
We need not answer their out-braving terms:  
For they refused to defend their own,  
When we by force redeemed them from their hands.  
Then counsel me thrise-worthy Britain Peers,  
Abandoning base cowardice and fears.  
K. Arthur.   

The Answer of Howell King of little Britain.  
THough all your wisdoms and your gravities,  
Handmaids to Counsel and Nobility,  
Should be engraved in one golden leaf,  
More to the purpose could not you infer,  
Then thy most grave and exquisite Oration,  
They eloquent and Tully-like advise  
Hath furnished us with such experiment,  
Whereby we ought incessantly to praise,  
In you the wisdom of a constant man:  
For if with all post expedition,  
You will prepare a voyage unto Rome,  
That doh expect our haste and royal coming▪  
According to the reasons you allege,  
I doubt not but that fair Victoria,  
Will sit in triumph on our conquering Helms,  
To fright the minds of Romish adversaries,  
Sith we defend our ancient liberty,  
Disdaining for to bear a servile yoke,  
Which to this day the Britain's do maintain:  
Let us go cheerfully and demand of them,  
With justice what unjustly they demand:  
For he that doth deface another's right,  
And thinks unjustly for to dispossess,  
And take from him his own inheritance  
Deservedly, and with a worthy means,  
Not violating large and hostile Arms,  
May he be put from that which is his own,  
By him to whom the wrong is offered.  
Seeing therefore that the Romans would usurp,  
The royal dignity of worthy Britain,  
Due to your honourable ancestors,  
I doubt not (noble King) but we'll regain,  
That which your Predecessors have possessed,  
Even in the middle of their proudest City,  
If we may come to buckle with our foes.  
This is the conflict that true hearted Britain's,  
So long have wished to happen to our age.  
These be the prophecies of wise Sibilla,  
Long time ago, plainly and truly told,  
And now at length fulfilled to our joy,  
That of the third race of the worthy Britain's▪  
There should be borne a Prince to repossess,  
The Romish Empire and their Dignity:  
For two of these the prophesy is past,  
In Belin and that worthy Constantine,  
Who overcame, and gave the Arms of Rome:  
Now have we none but you my gracious Liege▪  
The third and last, not least in all our eyes,  
To whom this high Exploit is promised:  
Make haste therefore most royal Sovereign,  
For to receive that which our God will give,  
Hasten for to subdue their willing minds,  
Which proffer up their honour to your hands,  
Hasten dear Liege for to advance us all,  
That willingly will spend our lives and lands,  
For the advancement of our liberty.  
And to achieve this Labour worthy King,  
Ten thousand armed soldiers will I bring.  
Ho. K. of Brit.   

Angusel King of Albania his Answer to the King.  
SInce first I heard my Sovereign speak his mind,  
Full fraught with Eloquence and learned Counsel,  
A sudden joy did so possess my soul,  
As that in words I cannot utter forth  
The explanation of my willing thoughts:  
In all our Victories and Conquests won,  
Subduing many Regions, many Kings,  
Nothing at all in honour have we gained,  
If that we suffer the proud-minded Romans,  
And haughty Germans to usurp upon us,  
And do not now revenge those bloody s●●ughtert▪  
Enacted on our friends and countrymen.  
And sith Occasion now is proffered,  
And Liberty to try our force of Arms,  
I do rejoice to see this happy day,  
Wherein we may but meet and join with them:  
I thirst my Lord in heart for sweet revenge,  
As if three days I had been kept from drink●▪  
The wounds I should receive upon that day,  
Would be as pleasant to my labouring soul,  
As Water to a thirsty traveler,  
Or else Releasement to a man condemned,  
Nay Death itself were welcome to my bosom,  
For to revenge our Father's injuries,  
Defend our liberty, advance our King:  
Let us give onset on that meacock Nation▪  
Those fond effeminate unruly people,  
And fight it out unto the latest man;  
That after we have spread our waving Colours,  
In sign of Triumph and of Victory,  
We may enjoy the Honours they possess,  
And for my part renowned valiant King,  
Two thousand armed horsemen will I bring.  
An. K. A●b.   


A Royal army Arthur hath provided,  
To beard the braving Romans in their Country,  
And like a Martialist hath them divided,  
To buckle with so proud an Enemy:  
And Courage joined with Resolution▪  
Doth prick them forwards ●o this Action.   

The Britain's haughty and resolved men,  
Stout, valiant, of Bellona's warlike brood,  
Cheered on their Followers, and began again  
For to revive their new decayed blood:  
And to redeem to Arthur and his Line▪  
What once was won by valiant Constantine.   

Now sounds his Drum a march in cheerful sort,  
Now his loud wound Trumpets check the air,  
And now the Britain's to him do resort,  
Not fearing wars affliction or despair:  
But all with one voice promise victory  
To Arthur King of famous Britainy.   

His Colours they are waving in the wind,  
Wherein is wrought his Arms of ancestry,  
His Pendants are in formal wise assigned,  
Quartered at large by well read Heraldry:  
Cuffing the air that struggles for to kiss,  
The gaudiness of fair King Arthur's bliss.   

Within his spreading Ensign first he bore,  
Allotted from his royal family▪  
Three flying Dragons and three Crowns he wore,  
Portrayed the Or, the field of Azure die,  
His father's Coat, his Mother's Country's grace,  
His honours Badge, his cruel foes deface▪   

At last unto himself he hath assumpted,  
And took to Arms proper to his desire,  
As in his faithful mind being best accounted,  
And fitting to those thoughts he did require:  
A cross of Silver in a field of Vert,  
A gracious Emblem to his great desert.   

On the first quart●r of this field was figured▪  
The image of our Lady with her Son  
Held in her arms; this he desired,  
Wherein his new-growne valour was begun:  
And bearing this same Figure forth right nobly,  
Did marvelous Acts and feats of Chivalry▪   

This Sign in elder ages being odious,  
And hated of the bad deserving mind,  
By his dear blood is made most precious,  
Our unpure Sin by him being full refined:  
A great triumphant Sign, a Sign of joy,  
A blessed Cross to free us from annoy.   

To this the righteous man bows down his head,  
And this the heavenly Angels do ●dore,  
By this our unpure souls with life is fed,  
And Devils fearing this do much deplore:  
Hereon he vanquished Satan, Hell, and Sin,  
And by this Sign our new-life we begin.   

Wise, learned Historiographers do write,  
That this pure Sign of the most holy Cross  
Was sent from God, to Mercury's delight,  
julian the Apost●ta's only loss,  
And that an Angel brought to Mercury▪  
All Armour for his back most necessary.   

A Shield of Azure herein coloured,  
A flowery Cross between two golden Roses,  
That the proud Iewes minds much distempered,  
Whose virtue in itself true Time encloses  
A rich wrought Shield and a most heavenly Armour▪  
That to the proud Foe struck a deadly terror.   

And in the time of Charles the seventh french King,  
The Sun giving glory to the dim-faced Morn,  
When early rising Birds aloud did sing,  
And fair clear clouds the Element did adorn,  
To Englishmen and French from heaven was sent  
A milk-white Cross within the Firmament.   

Which heavenly Sign of both these nations seen,  
The haughty French moved with rebellion  
Against their lawful King and trueborn Queen,  
Began to yield their true submission,  
And took it as a great admonishment,  
And Sigue betok'ning bitter detriment.   

Thus we may see, that the Religion  
Which they conceived of this blessed sight▪  
Altered their minds to veneration▪  
And mollified their hearts then full of spite,  
Yielding unto their Prince obedience,  
And true submission for their great offence.   

This sight of honour, to the French Kings fame  
They did behold, a spectacle to France,  
At the same time when the third Edward came,  
And in the land his colours did advance,  
Sending to Clodoveus then their King,  
Which there became a Christian by Baptizing.   

Haec sunt Francorum celebranda insignia Regum,  
Quae demissa polo, sustinet almafides  
Et nobis coelica dona:  
Et pia Francorum placeant insignia Regum,  
Aurea coelesti primum suffulta colore  
Lilia, Caesarijs olim iam credita ceruis  
Auri flammadehinc, veterum victoria Regum.   

And ever since great Clodoveus reign,  
They did remain as Ensigns to that Nation,  
Where still before three Toads they did sustain,  
Their only portraiture of commendation,  
By honour to the English Kings pertaining,  
That conquered France, when all their pride was waning.   

His barbed Horses beat the yielding ground,  
And with their neighing terrified their foe,  
Proud of their riders, in whose hearts are found  
A promise to the Romans overthrow.  
The glistering shine of their well-fashioned armour,  
Tells all men here doth ride a Conqueror.   

Their Armour strongly made and firmly wrought,  
Not to the use of old decayed Time,  
Who with their guilded shows are good for nought,  
But like to stony walls not made with lime,  
The Britons went not proudly armoured,  
But strong, as scorning to be conquered.   

In Calis he his colours doth advance,  
Who all for fear do entertain this Prince,  
And passeth through the regiment of France,  
And doth with puissance the French convince:  
Still marching up to Paris and to Roan,  
Bringing that Country in subjection.   

And having got his Title and his Name,  
A Title got with famous victory,  
He marcheth forward to enlarge his Fame,  
Leaving fair France in his authority,  
By sword and clemency he conquered Island,  
And won by famous war the land of Gothland.   

Now more and more his army doth increase,  
And mighty Kings do offer him their aid,  
So in the country they might live in peace,  
His warlike followers so their minds dismayed▪  
The name of Arthur King of Brittany,  
Hath feared the Romish force from Italy.   

At last he comes to meet his enemy,  
High-harted Lucius that his letters sent,  
To great Carleon with such Majesty,  
That stiffly did demand a base intent:  
But now he wished King Arthur were away,  
For fear he lost the Honour of the day.   

The Britain's valour was so admirable,  
As when a Lion meeteth with his Pray;  
King Arthur's courage so inestimable,  
That near a Roman durst his strength assay:  
But like the dust with wind did take their flight,  
Yielding by War what they demand by Might.   

Here lay a heap of Romans slaughtered,  
Trodden under foot by proud victorious Steeds,  
And here one Friend another murdered,  
Not able for to help him in his need:  
Here bruised Soldiers that aloud did cry,  
Brave Arthur help us in our misery.   

And after he had won so great a Field,  
And overthrew the Roman Lucius,  
He pardoned those that graciously would yield,  
And leave their Leader proud Tiberius:  
Who left his men for fear, and would not fight,  
But hid himself in darkness of the Night.   

This base retreat and glorious Victory,  
To Arthur's honours and Tiberius' shame,  
Was spread through Rome, through France, through Italy,  
An extollation to the Bry●ish name:  
Who foraged about, yet all did fly,  
Till Arthur took them to his pitying mercy▪   

Forward towards Rome these Britain's make their way,  
Sounding Defiance as they pass along,  
Their conquering Ensigns still they do display,  
In Arms and haughty courage passing strong:  
All Cities offer peace, all Towns submit  
To Arthur's greatness, as a thing most fit.   

But as they pass huge Myrmidons do strive,  
Surnamed Giants, for to stop this King▪  
And vow by Paganism (by which they thrive,)  
His body in Oceanus to fling:  
And daunt his followers, who as Fame hath said,  
Of great big monstrous men were not afraid.   

At last they march upon a large broad plain,  
When first these haughty Giants he doth spy,  
The Britain's scorn for to retire again,  
But either win the honour, or else die:  
Courage quoth Arthur, better die with fame,  
Then yield or turn to our immortal shame.   

At length they meet, and meeting cope together,  
As when two savage Boars are full of i●e,  
The Victory as yet inclined to neither,  
But from their Crests and Shields did sparkle fire:  
Enkindled Wrath from Arthur's breast hath sprung,  
That he made passage through the thickest throng.   

The King of Giants Arthur meets withal,  
And copes with him: for in his strength did stand  
His kingdoms great advancement, or his fall,  
His subjects peace, his quietness of land:  
But this renown to Britain doth remain,  
The Giant, Arthur hand to hand hath slain.   

When he was down the rest did faint for fear,  
Which when the British army had espied,  
Their trueborn valour did they not forbear,  
But all the green grass with their blood they died:  
And made such slaughter of these monstrous men,  
That aftertime hath registered again.   

After this Conquest is King Arthur minded,  
With all his royal power to march to Rome▪  
And with his Lords he hath determined,  
This gallant Resolution, and this Doom:  
To crown himself by war their Emperor,  
And over all a mighty Governor.   

And had not Fortune and Rebellion,  
Stirred up his Cousin Mordred's haughty mind,  
At home to make civil invasion,  
Who sought King Arthur's glory for to blind,  
With honour had he re-inkindled fire,  
To burn the walls of Rome to his desire.   

But O false Mordred, thou deceitful Kinsman,  
(Begot of Treason's heir) thus to rebel,  
Against thy noble Nephew, who hath won  
Cities and peopled Towns that did excel:  
And all he did was for to glorify  
His Royal kindred and his Noble country.   

But thou some base-born Haggard mak'st a wing,  
Against the Princely Eagle in his flight,  
And like a hissing Serpent seekest to sting  
The Lion that did shield thee from despite:  
But now being wakened by his Country's wrong,  
With war he means to visit you ere long.   

The news of this proud Rebel in his Land,  
Was like deep piercing arrows at his heart,  
Intemperate Rage did make them understand  
King Arthur's fury, and fond Mordred's smart,  
Who vowed revengement most unnatural,  
On him that sought to bring his friends to thrall▪   

He sounds Retreat with heart-swolne heaviness,  
That he must leave fair Rome unconquered,  
And marcheth through the Land in quietness,  
To be revenged on the Usurper Mordred:  
At this sweet news of his departing thence▪  
The romans praise the Rebel's excellence.   

King Arthur heard at his return towards Britain,  
How Mordred had proclaimed himself there King,  
Those that resisted, he by force hath slain,  
Unto their Country's ground a gentle offering,  
And to the Saxon Cheldricke is allied,  
Who landing to their lawful King denied.   

By force they ●riue King Arthur from the shore,  
And like rebellious Monsters kill his men,  
Which when he views, he striveth more and more,  
And his great p●issant strength renews again,  
And maugre all the power they withstand,  
At Sandwich Noble Arthur taketh Land:   

And joining battle with his enemy's,  
The traitorous Rebels are discomfited,  
And Mordred all in haste away he flies,  
By treasons bloody Train & murder led,  
To gather Power to renew the fight,  
Urged forward by the Saxon Cheldricks' spite   

The Noble Arthur in this conflict lost  
Some of his followers whom he loved too dear;  
The death of gentle Gawen grieved him most,  
As by his outward sorrow did appear:  
This Gawen was proud Mordred's lawful brothe●,  
Legitimate by father and by mother.   

O mirror of true borne gentility,  
Fair map of Honour in his gentle blood,  
That rather chose to love his noble country,  
And seek the means to do his life Liege good,  
Then to defend his kindred by that war,  
That made the Son and most kind Father jar.   

Kind Gawen, trusty worthy Gentleman,  
Beloved of Arthur, as deservedly▪  
Recording Time thy faithfulness shall scan,  
And loyal Truth wrapped up in memory:  
Shall say in thy King's quarrel being just,  
At last thou di●dst, not in thy Brother's trust.   

Thy gentle King prepaid thy Funeral,  
And laid thy body in a Sepulchre,  
Inthine own country richly done and royal,  
At Rosse whose ancestry shall still endure:  
And like a Nephew, mourned and wept for thee,  
Grieving to lose British Nobility.   

But to proceed in this unlucky fight,  
King Angusel was slain whom Arthur loved,  
A man in whom his country took delight,  
That ne'er with homebred Treachery was moved,  
In false-faithed Scotland was his bones interred,  
To which before King Arthur him preferred,   

That unjust Mordred▪ mischiefs nourisher,  
Times ●ad infamer, Traitor to the State▪  
Of his whole Country bounds the chief perturber▪  
Whose name to this day amongst them grows in hate,  
Fled from the battle▪ getting ships he sailed  
Westward towards Cornwail, when his force was quailed.   

But when King Arthur heard of his departure,  
Causing the refuse Rebels for to fly,  
To make the way of his defence more sure,  
With speed he re-inforst his royal army,  
With new supply of hardy men at Arms,  
Whose Resolution feared no following harms.   

With his whole force he marcheth after him,  
Where all the Kentish men rejoice to see  
King Arthur's Colours, whose rich pride doth dim  
The fair-faced Sun in all his Majesty:  
Not resting till he came unto the place,  
Where Mordred was encamped for a space.   

By Winchester a City of renown,  
The Traitorous army of this Mordred lay,  
On whose proud gathered troop the Sun did frown,  
Foreshowing to his men a blacke-faced day▪  
And so it proved before the self-same night;  
Mordred and his best friends were slain in fight.   

At Camblane was this bloody battle ended,  
Where fame-a●thieuing Arthur sore was wounded,  
With gallant Britain Lords being attended,  
Whose sword (called Pridwin) many had confounded▪  
Yet Fortune's unseen immortality▪  
Sometime cuts down sprigs of a Monarchy.   

At this days doleful stroke of Arthur's death,  
The glorious shining Sun looked pale and wan,  
And when this Monarch loosed forth his breath,  
The Britain's being amazed about him ran:  
And with their nails did tear their flesh asunder▪  
That they had lost their King the world's great Wonder.   

Over this little Island he had reigned,  
The full just term of six and twenty years,  
When twelve most famous battles he obtained,  
As in our ancient Chronicles appears,  
And in the Churchyard of fair Glastenburie▪  
They held King Arthur's woeful obsequy.   

And in the time of second Henry's days,  
Between two pillars was his body found,  
That in his life deserves immortal praise,  
Laid sixteen foot deep underneath the ground;  
Because his Saxon foes whom he did chase,  
Should not with swords his lifeless corpse deface.   

In the last year of Henry's royalty,  
More than six hundred after his burial,  
By the Abbot of the house of Glastenburie,  
At last they found King Arthur's funeral▪  
Henry de Bloys the Abbot's name they gave,  
Who by the King's command did find the grave.   

The principal and chief occasion  
That moved King Henry for to seek the place,  
Was that a Bardth in Welsh division,  
Recorded Arthur's acts unto his Grace:  
And in the foresaid Churchyard he did sing,  
That they should find the body of the King.   

And those that digged to find his body there,  
After they entered seven foot deep in ground,  
A mighty broad stone to them did appear,  
With a great leaden Cross thereto bound,  
And downwards towards the corpses the Cross did lie,  
Containing this inscripted poesy.   

Hic jacet sepultus inclytus Rex,  
Arthurus in Insula Aualoniae.   

His body whose great acts the world recorded,  
When vital limitation gave him life,  
And Fame's shrill golden Trump abroad had sounded,  
What Wars he ended, what Debate, what Strife,  
What Honour to his country, what great Love,  
Amongst his faithful subjects he did prove.   

Was not interred in sumptuous royalty,  
With funeral pomp of kindred and of friends,  
Nor closed in marble stone wrought curiously,  
Nor none in mourning black his King attends,  
But in a hollow tree made for the ●once,  
They do enter King Arthur's princely bones.   

Their outward habit did not show their mind,  
For many millions of sad weeping eyes,  
In every street and corner you might find,  
Some beating their bare breast, and some with outcries,  
Cursing and Banning that proud Mordred's soul,  
That did by war his princely life control.   

The Kings that were attendant on his train,  
Forgot their kingdoms, and their royal crowns,  
Their high proud haughty hearts with grief were slain,  
Struck in amaze with Fortune's deadly frowns:  
For they had lost their Sceptre, Seat, and all,  
By princely arthur's most unhappy fall.   

The trunk being opened, at the last they found  
The bones of Arthur King of Brytanie,  
Whose shinbone being set upon the ground,  
(As may appear by ancient Memory)  
Reached to the middle thigh within a span,  
Of a tall proper well set big limned man..   

And furthermore they found King Arthur's skull,  
Of such great largeness that betwixt his eyes,  
His foreheads space a span broad was at full,  
That no true Historiographer denies:  
The forenamed Abbot living in those days,  
Saw what is written now to Arthur's praise.   

The print of ten wounds in his head appeared,  
All grown together except only one,  
Of which it seems this worthy Britain died:  
A true Memorial to his loving Nation;  
But that was greater far than all the rest,  
Had it been lesser Britain had been blest.   

In opening of the Tomb they found his wife,  
Queen Guinivere interred with the King,  
The Tresses of her hair as in her life,  
Were finely plaited whole and glistering:  
The colour like the most pure refined gold,  
Which being touched strait turned into mould,   

Henry de Bloyes at the length translated  
The bones of Arthur and his lovely Queen,  
Into the great Church where they were interred,  
Within a Marble tomb, as oft was seen:  
Of whom a worthy Poet doth rehearse,  
This Epitaph in sweet Heroic Verse.   

Hic jacet Arthurus flos regum, gloria regni,  
Quem mores, probit as commendant laud perenni.   

johannis Leylandij antiquarij Encomion funeral, in  
vitam, facta, mortemque Regis Arthuri inclitissi●i.   

SAxonicas toties qui fudit mart cruento  
Turmas, & peperit spolijs sibi nomen opimis,  
Fulmineo toties Pictos qui contudit ense,  
Im●osuitque jugum Scoti ceruicibus ingens,  
Qui tumidos Gallos', Germanos quique feroces  
Pertulit, & Dacos bello confregit aperto:  
Denique Mordredum è medio qui sustulit illud  
Monstrum, horrendum ingens, dirum sewmque tyrannum,  
Hoc jacet extinctus monumento Arthurius alto,  
Militiae clarum decus, & virtutis alumnus,  
Gloria nunc cuius terram circumuolat omnem,  
Aetherijque petit, sublimia tecta tonantis.  
Vosigitur gentis Proles generosa Britannae  
Induperatoriter magno assurgite vosiro:  
Et tumulo s●cro Roseas inferte Corollas,  
Officij testes redolentia muncra vestri,   
Thus Englished.  

He that so oft the Saxon Troops did foil,  
And got a name of worth with richest spoil:  
He that with brandished sword the Picts destroyed,  
And yoked the Scots, their stubborn necks annoyed:  
He that the lofty French and Germans fierce did 〈◊〉,  
And Dacians force with War did vanquish quite:  
He last which cut off that monster Mordred's life,  
A cruel Tyrant, horrible, mighty, full of strife:  
Arthur lies buried in this Monument,  
wars chiefest garland, virtues sole intent;  
Whose Glory through the world still swiftly flies,  
And mounts with Fame's wings up to the thundering skies.  
You gentle Off spring of the Britain's blood,  
Unto this puissant Emperor do honours good▪  
And on his Tomb lay Garlands of sweet Roses,  
Sweet gifts of Duty, and sweet loving posies.   
Finis Epitaphij. No. Arth.   

The true Pedigree of that famous Worthy King Arthur, collected out of many learned Authors.  
Twelve men in number entered the vale of Aualon:  
joseph of Arimathea was the chiefest we confess,  
josué the son of joseph his father did attend on,  
With other ten, these Glaston did possess,  
Hilarius the Nephew of joseph first begat  
joshua the Wise: joshua Aminadab,  
Aminadab Castellors had by fate:  
Castellors got Manael that lovely Lad,  
And Manael by his wife had fair-faced Lambard▪  
With another dear son surnamed Vrlard;  
And Lambard at the length begot a son,  
That had I●rene bo●ne of his wife,  
Of this Igrene, Uter the great P●ndragon  
Begot King Arthur famous in his life▪  
Where by the truth this Pedigree d●th end,  
Arthur from Joseph's loins did first descend.  
Peter Cousin to joseph of Arimathea,  
Being sometimes King of great Arcadia,  
Begat Erlan that famous worthy Prince,  
And Erlan got Melianus, that did convince  
His neighbour foes, Melianus, did beget  
Edor, and Edor Lothos name did set,  
That took to wife the sister of King Arthur▪  
A Virgin fair, chaste, lovely, and most pure,  
Of whom this Lotho had four lovely boys,  
Their father's comfort and their mother's joys▪  
Walwanus, Agranaius, Garelus and Guerelise,  
That in their country much did soveragnize:  
All which were men of great authority▪  
And famous in the land of Britain.   
Here endeth the Birth, Life, Death, and Pedigree of King Arthur of Brittany, & now, to where we left.   
Phoenix. 
O Nature tell me one thing ere we part,  
What famous town and situated Seat,  
Is that huge Building that is made by Art,  
Against whose walls the crystal streams do beat,  
As if the flowing tide the stones would eat:  
That lies upon my left hand built so high,  
That the huge top-made Steeple dares the Sky?  Nature. 

That is the Britain's town old Troynovant,  
The which the wandering- Troyans Son did frame,  
When after ship wrack he a place did want,  
For to revive his Honor-splitted Name,  
And raised again the cinders of his Fame,  
When from Sydonian Dido they did steal,  
To rear the Pillars of a Commonweal.   

Since when to come more nearer to our time,  
Lud the great King did with his wealth enlarge,  
The famous builded City of this Clime,  
And Ludstone to be called he gave in charge,  
And London now that Town is grown at large:  
The flowing River Thamasis is named,  
Whose Sea-ensuing Tide can near be tamed.   Phoenix. 
O London I have heard thee honoured,  
And thy names Glory raised to good intent,  
laws Council chamber in thy walls is bred,  
The school● of Knowledge and Experiment:  
Wise Senators to govern thee is lent.  
All things to beautify a Royal Throne,  
Where Scarcity and Dea●th did never groan▪  Nature. 
Leave off thy Praises till we have more leisure,  
And to beguile the weary lingering Day,  
Whose long-drawne Hours do tyre us out of measure:  
Our cunning in Lovesongs let us assay,  
And paint our Pleasure as some good Array▪  
I will begin my cunning for to taste▪  
And your Experience we will try at last.  
Here Nature singeth to this ditty following.  

WHat is Love but a toy  
To beguile men's Senses?  
What is Cupid but a boy,  
Boy to cause expenses,  
A toy that brings to fools oppressed thrall,  
A boy whose folly makes a number fall.   

What is Love but a child,  
Child of little substance,  
Making Apes to be wild,  
And their pride to advance,  
A child that loves with guegawes to be toying,  
And with thin shadows always to be playing.   

Love is sweet, wherein sweet?  
In fading pleasures, wanton toys,  
Love a Lord, and yet meet,  
To cross men's humours with annoys:  
A bitter pleasure, pleasing for a while,  
A Lord is Love that doth man's thoughts beguile.   

O sing no more, you do forget your Theme,  
And have profaned the sacred name of Love,  
You dip your tongue in an unwholesome Stream,  
And from the golden Truth your notes remove,  
In my harsh Ditty I will all reprove:  
And unaccustomed I will try my skill,  
To pleasure you, and to confute your will▪   
The Phoenix her Song to the Ditty before.  

O Holy Love, religious Saint,  
Man's only hony-tasting Pleasure,  
Thy glory, learning cannot paint,  
For thou art all our worldly Treasure▪  
Thou art the Treasure, Treasure of the soul,  
That great celestial powers dost control▪  
What greater bliss then to embrace   

The perfect pattern of Delight,  
Whose heart-enchaunting Eye doth chase  
A●l storms of sorrow from man's sight:  
Pleasure, Delight, Wealth, and earth-ioyes do lie  
In Venus' bosom, bosom of pure beauty.   

That mind that tasteth perfect Love,  
Is far remoted from annoy:  
Cupid that God doth sit above,  
That tips his Arrows all with joy:  
And this makes Poets in their Verse to sing  
Love is a holy, holy, holy thing.   Nature. 
O voice Angelical, O heavenly song,  
The golden praise of Love that thou hast made,  
Delivered from thy sweet smoothed honeyed tongue,  
Commands Love self to lie within a shade,  
And yield thee all the Pleasures may be had:  
Thy sweet melodious voice hath beautified  
And guilded loves rich amours in her pride.  Phoenix. 
Enough, enough, Love is a holy thing,  
A power divine, divine, majestical:  
In shallow witted brains as you did sing,  
It cares not for the force material,  
And low-born Swains it nought respects at all:  
She builds her Bower in none but noble minds,  
And there due adoration still she finds.  Nature. 
Stay Phoenix stay, the evening Star draws nigh,  
And Phoebus he is parted from our sight,  
And with this Wagon mounted in the Sky,  
Affording passage to the gloomy night,  
That doth the way-fa●ing Passenger affright:  
And we are set on foot near to that I'll,  
In whose deep bottom plains Delight doth smile.  Phoenix. 

O what a musky sent the air doth cast,  
As if the Gods perfumed it with sweet Mirth▪  
O how my blood's inspired and doth taste,  
An alteration in my joints to stir,  
As if the good did with the bad confer:  
The air doth move my Spirits, purge my Sense,  
And in my body doth new war commence.   

Look round about, behold you fruitful Plain,  
Behold their meadow plots and pasture ground,  
Behold their crystal Rivers run amain,  
Into the vast huge Seas devouring sound,  
And in her bowels all her filth is found:  
It vomiteth by virtue all corruption,  
Into that wa●rie plain of desolation.   

And while the day gives light unto our eyes,  
Be thou attentive, and I will relate,  
The glory of the plains that thou descri'st,  
Whose fertile bounds far doth extenuate,  
Where Mars and Venus arm in arm have sat:  
Of plants of herbs, and of high springing trees,  
Of sweet delicious savours, and of Bees.   

In this delightsome country there doth grow,  
The Mandrake called in Greek Mandragora,  
Some of his virtues if you look to know,  
The juice that freshly from the root doth pass,  
Purgeth all phlegm like black Helleborus:  
'tis good for pain engendered in the eyes;  
By wine made of the root doth sleep arise.   

There's Yellow Crowbels and the Daphadill,  
Good Harry, herb Robert, and white Cotula,  
Adder's grass, Eglantine, and Aphodill,  
Agnus Castus, and Acatia,  
The Black Arkeangell, Coloquintida,  
Sweet Sugar Canes, Sinkefoile and boys Mercury,  
Goosefoote, Goldsnap, and good Gratia Dei.   

Moss of the Sea, and yellow Succory,  
Sweet Trefoil, Weedwind, the wholesome Wormwood,  
Muskmealons, Moustaile, and Mercury,  
The dead Arkeangell that for wens is good,  
The soldiers perrow, and great Southernewood:  
Stone hearts tongue, Blessed thistle, and Sea Trifoly,  
Our Lady's cushion, and Spain's Pellitory.   〈◊〉. 
No doubt this Climate where as these remain,  
The women and the men are famed for fair,  
Here need they not of aches to complain,  
For Physics skill grows here without compare:  
All herbs and plants within this Region are,  
But by the way sweet Nature as you go,  
Of Agnus Castus speak a word or two.  Nature. 

That shall I briefly; it is the very handmaid  
To Vesta, or to perfect Chastity,  
The hot inflamed spirit is allayed  
By this sweet herb that bends to Luxury,  
It drieth up the seed of Venery:  
The leaves being laid upon the sleeper's bed,  
With chasteness, cleanness, pureness he is fed.   

Burn me the leaves, and straw then on the ground,  
Whereas foul venomous Serpents use to haunt:  
And by this virtue here they are not found,  
Their operation doth such creatures daunt,  
It causeth them from thence for to avant:  
If thou be stung with Serpents great or less,  
Drink but the seed, and thou shalt find redress.   

But to proceed, here's Clary or Cleare-eie,  
calves snout, Cukoe flowers, and the Cuckoos meat,  
Calathian Violets, Dandelion, and the Dewberrie,  
Leopard's foot, and green spinach which we use to eat,  
And the hot Indian Sun procuring heat:  
Great wild Valerian, and the Withie wind,  
The water Cresses, or ague-curing Woodbine.   

There's Foxglove, Forget me not, and Coliander,  
Galingal, Goldcups, and Buprestis,  
Small honesties, eyebright, and Coculus Panter,  
Double tongue, Moly, and the bright Anthillis,  
Smelling Claver, and Aethiopis:  
Floramore, Euphorbium, and Esula,  
White Bulbus violet, and Cassia fistula.   Phoenix. 
But by the way sweet Nature tell me this,  
Is this the Moly that is excellent,  
For strong enchantments and the Adders hiss?  
Is this the Moly that Mercurius sent  
To wise Ulysses, when he did prevent  
The witchcraft, and foul Circe's damned charms,  
That would have compassed him with twenty harms?  Nature. 

This is the Moly growing in this land,  
That was revealed by cunning Mercury  
To grea● Ulysses, making him withstand  
The hand of Circe's fatal sorcery,  
That would have laden him with misery:  
And ere we pass I'll show some excellence▪  
Of other herbs in Physics noble Science.   

There Mugwort, Sena and Tithimailes,  
Oak of jerusalem, and Lyryconfaucie,  
Larks spur▪ Larks claw and lentils,  
Garden Nigella, Mill, and peony,  
Woody Nightshade, Mints, and sentory,  
Showbread, Dragons, and Goats oregan,  
Pelemeum, Hellebore, and Osmond the Waterman▪   

First of this Mugwort it did take the name,  
Of Artemesia wife to Mansoleus,  
Whose sunne-bred beauty did his heart inflame,  
When she was Queen of Helicarnassus,  
Diana gave the herb this name to us:  
Because this virtue to us it hath lent,  
For women's matters it is excellent.   

And he that shall this herb about him bear,  
Is freed from hurt or danger any way,  
No poisoned Toad nor Serpent shall him flare,  
As he doth travel in the Sunshine day,  
No weariness his limbs shall ought assay:  
And if he wear this Mugwort at his breast,  
Being traveling, he near shall covet rest.   

There is black Hellebore called Melampodium,  
Because an Arcadian shepherd first did find  
This wholesome herb Melampus named of some,  
Which the rich Proetus daughters wits did bind,  
When she to extreme madness was inclined:  
It cured and reviv'd her memory,  
That was possessed with a continual frenzy.   

There Centrie in Greek Centaurion,  
That from the Centaur Chiron took the name,  
In Spain 'twas called Cintoria long agone,  
And this much honour must we give the same,  
Wild Tigers with the leaves a man may ●ame:  
'tis good for sinewed aches, and gives light  
To the black misty dimness of the sight.   

Fame's golden glory spreadeth this report,  
Upon a day that Chiron was a guest,  
To armstrong Hercules, and did resort  
Unto his house to a most sumptuous feast,  
And welcome was the Centaur 'mongst the rest.  
But see his luck, he on his foot let fall,  
Great Hercul's shaft, and hurt himself withal.   

A mighty arrow not for him to wield,  
The wound being deep, and with a venomed point,  
To Death's arestment he began to yield,  
And there with sundry Balms they did anoint,  
His wounded foot being strucken through the joint:  
All would ●ot serve till that an old man brought,  
This ●entaurie that ●ase to him hath wrought,   

There's Osmond balepate, Plebane, and Oculus Christi,  
Sleeping nightshade, Salomon's seal, and Sampire,  
Sage of jerusalem, and sweet Rosemary,  
Great Pilosella, sengreen, and Alexander,  
Knights Milfoile, Mastic, and Stock gillofer,  
Heart's ease, herb twopences, and hermodactyl,  
Narcissus, and the red flower Pimpernell.   Phoenix. 

That word Narcissus is of force to steal,  
Cold running water from a stony rock:  
Alas poor boy thy beauty could not heal  
The wound that thou thyself too deep didst lock●;  
Thy shadowed eyes thy perfect eyes did mock.  
False beauty fed true beauty from the deep,  
When in the glassy water thou didst peep.   

O Love thou art imperious full of might,  
And dost revenge the cry disdaining lover  
His looks to Lady's eyes did give a light,  
But pride of beauty, did his beauty smother,  
Like him for fair you could not find another▪  
Ah had he loved, and not on Ladies lower,  
He near had been transformed to a flower.   Nature. 
This is an Emblem for those painted faces,  
Where divine beauty rests her for a while,  
Filling their brows with storms and great disgraces,  
That on the pained soul yields not a smile,  
But puts true love into perpetual exile:  
Hard hearted Soul, such fortune light on thee,  
That thou mayst be transformed as well as he.  

Ah had the boy been pliable to be won,  
And not abused his morn excelling face,  
He might have lived as beauteous as the Sun,  
And to his beauty Ladies would give place,  
But O proud Boy, thou wroughtst thine own disgrace:  
Thou lov'st thyself, and by the self same love,  
Didst thy devinesse to a flower remove.   

But to proceed, there's Christioculus,  
The seed of this Horminum drunk with wine,  
Doth stir a procurations heat in us,  
And to Libidenous lusts makes men incline,  
And men's unable bodies doth refine:  
It brings increase by operation,  
And multiplies our generation.   

There's Carrots, chervil, and the cucumber,  
Red Patiens, Purslane, and Gingidium,  
Ox eye, sheep killing Penygrasses, and the golden flower  
Cuckoepintell, our Lady's seal, and Sagapinum,  
Theophrastus' violet, and Vincetoxicum:  
Saint Peter's wort, and lovely Venus' hair,  
And Squilla, that keeps men from foul despair.   

O this word Carrots, if a number knew  
The virtue of thy rare excelling root,  
And what good help to men there doth ensue,  
They would their lands, and their lives sell to boot,  
But thy sweet operation they would view:  
Sad dreaming Lovers slumbering in the night,  
Would in thy honey working take delight.   

The Thracian Orpheus whose admired skill  
Infernal Pluto once hath ravished,  
Causing high Trees to dance against their will,  
And untamed Beast with musics Harp hath fed,  
And Fishes to the shore hath often led,  
By his experience oftentimes did prove,  
This Root procured in Maids a perfect love.   

Purslane doth comfort the inflamed heart,  
And healeth the exulcerated kidneys:  
It stoppeth all defluxions falling smart,  
And when we sleep expelleth dreams and fancies:  
It drives Imaginations from our eyes,  
The juice of Purslane hindereth that desire,  
When men to Venus' games would fain aspire.   

There's Rocket, jack by the hedge, and Love in idleness,  
Knight's water sengreen, and Silver maidenheare,  
Paris Na●ews, Tornesol, and town Cresses,  
Star thistle that for many things is dear,  
And Seia that in Italy Corn doth bear:  
Wake-robbins, Hyacinth, and Hartichocke,  
lettuce, that men's sense asleep doth rock.   Phoenix. 
O poor boy Hyacinthus thy fair face  
Of which Apollo was enamoured,  
Brought thy life's Lord too timely to that place,  
Where playing with thee thou wast murdered,  
And with thy blood the grass was sprinkled:  
Thy body was transformed in that hour,  
Into a red white mingled Gillyflower.  Nature. 

But yet Apollo wept when he was slain,  
For playing with him, clean against his will  
He made him breathless, this procured his pain:  
True love doth seldom seek true love to kill;  
O Love thou many actions dost fulfil!  
Search, seek, & learn what things there may be shown,  
Then say that loves sweet secrets are unknown.   

And as a token of Apollo's sorrow,  
A silver coloured Lily did appear,  
The leaves his perfect sighs and tears did borrow,  
Which have continued still from year to year;  
Which shows him loving, not to be severe,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is written as a mourning Ditty,  
Upon this flower which shows Apollo's pity.   

O Schoolboys I will teach you such a shift,  
As will be worth a Kingdom when you know it,  
An herb that hath a secret hidden drift,  
To none but Treavants do I mean to show it,  
And all deep read Physicians will allow it:  
O how you play the wags, and fain would hear  
Some secret matter to allay your ●eare.   

There's garden Rocket, take me but the seed,  
When in your masters brow your faults remain,  
And when to save yourselves there is great need,  
Being whipped or beaten you shall feel no pain,  
Although the blood your buttocks seem to stain:  
It hardeneth so the flesh and tender skin,  
That what is seen without comes not within.   

The Father that desires to have a boy,  
That may be Heir unto his land and living,  
Let his espoused Love drink day by day,  
Good Artichokes, who buds in August bring,  
Sod in clear running water of the spring;  
Wives natural Conception it doth strengthen,  
And their declining life by force doth lengthen.   

In Summer time, when sluggish idleness  
Doth haunt the body of a healthful man,  
In Winter time when a cold heavy slowness  
Doth tame a woman's strength, do what she can,  
Making her look both bloodless, pale and wan,  
The virtue of this Artichoke is such,  
It stirs them up to labour very much.   

There's Showbread, Stanwort, and Star of Hierusal●●●,  
Base or flat vervain, and the wholesome tansy,  
Go to bed at noon, and Titimalem,  
Hundred headed thistle, and tree-clasping ivy,  
Storks bill, great Stonecrop, and seed of Canary,  
Dwarf gentian, Snakeweed and summer Savoury,  
Bell rags, prickly Box, and Raspis of Coventry.   

This Showbread is an herb that's perilous,  
For howsoever this same Root be used,  
For women grown with child 'tis dangerous,  
And therefore it is good to be refused:  
Unless too much they seek to be misused,  
O have a care how this you do apply,  
Either in inward things or outwardly.   

Those that about them carry this same Showbread,  
Or plant it in their gardens in the Spring,  
If that they only over it do tread▪  
Twill kill the issue they about them bring,  
When Mother Lullaby with joy should sing:  
Yet wanton scaping Maids perhaps will taste,  
This unkind herb, and snatch it up in haste.   

Yet let me give a warning to you all,  
Do not presume too much in dalliance,  
Be not short-heeld with every wind to fall:  
The Eye of heaven perhaps will not dispense  
With your rash fault, but plague your fowl offence,  
And take away the working and the virtue,  
Because to him you broke your promised duty.   

There's ivy, that doth cling about the tree,  
And with her levy arms doth round embrace  
The rotten hollow withered trunk we see,  
That from the maiden Cissus took that place,  
Grape-crowned Bacchus did this damsel grace:  
Love-piercing windows dazzled so her eye,  
That in loves over-kindnesse she did die.   

A rich-wrought sumptuous Banquet was prepared,  
Unto the which the Gods were all invited:  
Amongst them all this Cissus was ensnared,  
And in the sight of Bacchus much delighted:  
In her fair● bo●ome was true Love united,  
She danced and often kissed him with such mirth,  
That sudden joy did stop her vital breath.   

Assoon as that the Nourisher of things,  
O●r Grandam Earth had tasted of her blood,  
From forth her body a fresh Plant there springs,  
And then an I●y-climing Herb there stood,  
That for the ●l●xe dysentery is good:  
For the remembrance of the God of wine,  
It therefore always clasps about the Vine.   

There is Angellica or Dwarf Gentian,  
Whose 〈◊〉 being dried in the hot shining Sun,  
From de●●h it doth preserve the poisoned man,  
Whose extreme torment makes his life half gone,  
That from deaths mixed potion could not shun:  
No Pestilence nor no infectious air,  
Shall do him hurt, or cause him to despair.   

There's Carduus benedictu● called the Blessed thistle,  
Neswort, pennyroyal, and Astrolochia,  
Yellow Wolfs-bane, and Rose-smelling Bramble,  
Our Lady's Bedstraw, Brookelime, and Lunaria,  
Cinque foil, Cat's tail, and Cress Scia●ica,  
Hollihockes, Mouseare, and Petty Morrell,  
Sage, Scorpiades, and the garden Sorrell.   

First of the Nesewort, it doth drive away,  
And poisoneth troublesome Mice and long-tailed Rats,  
And being sod in milk, it doth destroy  
Bees, Wasps, or Flies, and little ●●inging Gnats:  
It killeth Dogs, and rest disturbing Cats,  
Boiled with vinegar it doth assuage  
The ache proceeding from the teeth hot rage.   

Sage is an herb for health preservative,  
It doth expel from women barrenness:  
Aetius saith, it makes the child to live,  
Whose new-knit joints are full of feebleness,  
And comforteth the mother's weariness:  
Adding a li●ely spirit, that doth good  
Unto the painful labouring wives sick blood.   

In Egypt when a great mortality,  
And kill Pestilence did infect the Land,  
Making the people die innumerably,  
The plague being ceased, the women out of hand  
Did drink of juice of Sage continually,  
That made them to increase and multiply,  
And bring forth store of children presently.   

This herb Lunaria, if a horse do graze  
Within a meadow where the same doth grow,  
And over it doth come with gentle pace,  
Having a horselock at his foot below,  
As many have, that safeguard we do know,  
It openeth the Lock, and makes it fall,  
Despite the bar that it is locked withal.   

There's Standergras, Hares bollocks, or great Orchis,  
Provoketh Venus, and procureth sport,  
It helps the weakened body that's amiss,  
And falls away in a consumptuous sort,  
It heals the Hectic fever by report:  
But the dried shriveld root being withered,  
Hindereth the virtue we have uttered.   

If Man of the great springing roots doth eat,  
Being in matrimonial copulation,  
Male children of his wife he shall beget,  
This special virtue hath the operation,  
If Women make the withered roots their meat,  
Fair lovely Daughters, affable, and wise,  
From their fresh springing loins there shall arise.   

There's Rosemary, the Arabians justify,  
(Physicians of exceeding perfect skill,)  
It comforteth the brain and Memory,  
And to the inward sense gives strength at will,  
The head with noble knowledge it doth fill.  
Conserves thereof restores the speech being lost,  
And makes a perfect Tongue with little cost.   

There's Dwale or Nightshade, 'tis a fatal plant,  
It bringeth men into a deadly sleep,  
Then Rage and Anger doth their senses haunt,  
And like mad Ajax they a coil do keep,  
Till lean-faced Death into their heart doth creep,  
In Almain grave experience hath us taught,  
This wicked herb for many things is nought.   

Oak of jerusalem being thoroughly dried,  
And laid in presses where your clothes do lie,  
No Moths or venom 'mongst them shall abide,  
It makes them smell so odorifero●sly,  
That it doth kill them all immediately:  
It helps the breast that's stopped with corruption,  
And gives man's breath fit operation.   〈◊〉. 
Blessed be our mother Earth that nourisheth,  
In her rich womb the seed of Times increase,  
And by her virtue all things flourisheth,  
When from her bosom she doth them release,  
But are their Plants and Trees in this fair I'll,  
Where Flora's sweet spread garden seems to smile?  Nature. 

As plentiful unto these Islanders,  
Are the fruit-bearing Trees, as be the Flowers:  
And to the chiefest Lords that are commander's,  
They serve as pleasant over-shading bowers,  
To banquet in the day, and sport being late,  
And most of them I mean to nominate.   

there's the great sturdy Oak and spreading Vine,  
Under whose branches Bacchus used ' to sleep,  
The Rose-tree and the lofty bearing Pine,  
That seems (being touched with wind) full oft to weep●,  
The Hawthorne, Christs-thorne and the Rosemary,  
The Tamariske, Willow, and the Almond-tree.   

The most chaste tree, that Chasteness doth betoken,  
The Hollyholme, the Cork and Gooseberrie,  
That never with tempestuous storms is shooken,  
The Olive, Philbert, and the Barbary,  
The Mastic tree whose liquid gum being dried.  
Is good for them that Rheum hath terrified.   

There's judas tree, so called because that jew,  
That did betray the innocent Lamb of God,  
The●e first of all his sorrows to renew,  
Did hang himself, plagued with a heavy rod,  
A just reward for such an unjust slave,  
That would betray his Master to the grave.   

There's Ash-tree, Maple, and the Sycamore,  
Pomegranate, Aprico●kes and junipere:  
The Turpentine that sweet juice doth deplore,  
The Quince, the Peartree, and the young man's Medlar,  
The Figtree, Orange, and the sweet moist Lemon,  
The Nutmeg, Plum-tree, and the lovely citron.   

Now for the Myrtle tree, it bears the name,  
Being once the gods Pallas best beloved,  
Of Mersin the young fair Athenian Dame,  
Because in activeness she mu●h excelled:  
The lusty young men of Athenia,  
She still was honoured of the wise Minerva.   

Who willing her at Tilt and Tournament,  
At running, vaulting, and Activity,  
And other exercise of government,  
Not to be absent from her Deity:  
Because that she as judge might give the Crown,  
And garland to the Victor's great renown.   

But no forepast age was free from Envy,  
That spiteful honor-crazing enemy:  
For on a time giving the equal glory  
To him that won it most deservedly,  
The vanquisher in fury much displeased,  
Slew Mersin whom the Goddess favoured.   

Pallas offended with their cruelty,  
Did gratefully revenge her Maiden's death,  
Transforming her into a Myrtle tree,  
Sweetly to flourish in the lower earth:  
The berries are a means for to redress  
(Being decocted) swolne-faced Drunkenness.   

The stormy Winter's green remaining Bay  
Was Daphne, Ladon and the Earth's fair daughter,  
Whom wise Apollo haunted in the day,  
Till at the length by chance alas he caught her:  
O if such faults were in the Gods above,  
Blame not poor silly men if they do love.   

But she not able (almost out of breath)  
For to resist the wise Gods humble suit,  
Made her petition to her mother Earth,  
That she would succour her, and make her mute:  
The Earth being glad to ease her misery,  
Did swallow her, and turned her to a bay tree.   

Apollo being amazed at this sight,  
Named it Daphne for his Daphne's honour,  
Twisting a Garland to his heart's delight,  
And on his head did wear it as a favour:  
And to this day the bay trees memory,  
Remains as token of true prophesy.   

Some of the heathen, men of opinion,  
Suppose the green-leaved bay tree can resist  
enchantments, spirits, and illusion,  
And make them seem as shadows in a mist,  
This tree is dedicated only to the Sun,  
Because her virtue from his vice begun.   

The Mose tree hath such great large spreading leaves,  
That you may wrap a child of twelve months old  
In one of them, unless the truth deceives,  
For so our Herborists have truly told:  
By that great City Aleph in Assyria,  
This tree was found hard by Venetia.   

The fruit hereof (the greeks and Christians)  
That do remain in that large-spreading City,  
The misbelieving ●ewes and Persians,  
Hold this opinion for a certainty:  
Adam did eat in lively Paradise,  
That wrapped man's freeborn souls in miseries.   〈◊〉. 
These trees, these plants, and this description,  
Of their sweet liquid gums that are distilling,  
Are to be held in estimation,  
For fai●e-fac'd Tellus' glory is excelling▪  
But what white silvered rich resembling plain,  
Is that where woody moving trees remain?  〈◊〉. 

That is the watery kingdom of Neptunus,  
Where his high wood-made Towers daily float,  
Bearing the title of Occanus,  
As hony-speaking Po●ts oft do quote:  
And as the branches spreading from the tree,  
So do the rivers grace this lovely Country.   

Wherein is bread for man's sweet nourishment,  
Fishes of sundry sorts and diverse natures,  
That the inhabitants doth much content,  
As a relievement to all mortal creatures,  
But for to make you perfect what they be,  
I will relate them to you orderly.   

There swims the gentle Prawne and Pickerel,  
A great devourer of small little fish,  
The Puffin, Sole, and Summer loving Mackerel,  
In season held for a high Lady's dish:  
The big boned Whale, of whom the skilful Mariner,  
Sometimes God knows stands in a mighty terror.   

The musicke-loving Dolphin here doth swim,  
That brought Arion on his back to shore,  
And stayed a long while at the Seas deep brim,  
To hear him play▪ in nature did deplore,  
As being loath to leave him, but at last  
Headlong himself into the Sea he cast.   

Here swims the Ray, the Sea-calf and the Porpoise▪  
That doth betoken rain or storms of weather,  
The Sea-horse, Seahound, and the wide-mouthed Plaice,  
A Spitchcoke, Stockfish, and the little Pilchard,  
Whose only moisture priest by cunning Art,  
Is good for those troubled with Aches smart.   

Here swims the Shad, the Spi●sish, and the Spurling▪  
The thornback, Turbut, and the Perewincle,  
The Twine, the Trout, the Scallop and the Whiting,  
The Scate, the Roch, the Tench and pretty Wrinkle:  
The Purple-fis●, whose liquor usually,  
A violet colour on the cloth doth die.   

Here swims the Perch, the Cuttle and the Stockfish,  
That with a wooden staff is often beaten,  
The Crab, the Perch, which poor men always wish,  
The Ruff, the Piper good for to be eaten:  
The barbel that three times in every year,  
Her natural young ones to the waves doth bear.   Phoenix. 
His great divine Omnipotence is mighty,  
That rides upon the heavens axle-tree,  
That by increase amongst us sends such plenty,  
I● to his Mightiness grateful we will be:  
But stubborn necked jews do him provoke,  
Till he do load them with a heavy yoke.  Nature. 

Truth have you said; but I will here express  
The richesse of the Earth's hid secrecy,  
The salt Sea● unseen, unknown worthiness,  
That yields us precious stones innumerably,  
The rareness of their virtue fit for Kings,  
And such this country climate often brings.   

Herein is found the Amethyst, and Abestone,  
The Topaz, Turches, and Gelatia,  
The Adamant, Dionise, and Chalcedon,  
The Berill, Marble, and Elutropia,  
The Ruby, sapphire, and Asterites,  
The jacinth, Sardonix, and Argirites.   

The Smaragd, Carbuncle, and Alabaster,  
Cornellis, Crusopasse, and Coral:  
The sparkling Diamond, and the lovely jasper,  
The Margarite, loadstone, and the bright-eyed Crystal,  
Ligurius, Onyx, Nitrum, and Gagates,  
Absistos, Amatites, and the good Achates.   

Here in this Island are there mines of Gold,  
Mines of Silver, Iron, Tin and Lead,  
That by the labouring workman we behold:  
And mines of Brass, that in the Earth is fed,  
The stone Lipparia, Galactites, and Pant●ron,  
Enidros, Iris, Dracontites, and Astrion.   

The Adamant, a hard obdurate stone,  
Invincible, and not for to be broken,  
Being placed near a great big bar of Iron,  
This virtue hath it, as a special token,  
The loadstone hath no power to draw away  
The Iron bar, but in one place doth stay.   

Yet with a goats warm, fresh and lively blood,  
This Adamant doth break and rive in sunder,  
That many mighty, huge strokes hath withstood:  
But I will tell you of a greater wonder,  
It reconciles the woman's love being lost,  
And giveth proof of Chasteness without cost.   

The purple coloured Amethyst doth prevail  
Against the wit-oppressing Drunkenness,  
If evil Cogitations do assail  
Thy sleepy thoughts wrapped up in heaviness,  
It soon will drive them from thy minds disturbing,  
And temporize thy brain that is offending.   

The white-veind enterlined stone Achates,  
Bespotted here and there with spots like blood,  
Makes a man gracious in the people's eyes,  
And for to clear the sight is passing good:  
It remedieth the place that's venomous,  
And in the fire smells odoriferous.   

The Gem Amatites hath this quality,  
Let a man touch his vesture with the same,  
And it resisteth fire mightily:  
The virtue doth the force of burning ●ame,  
And afterwards cast in the fires light,  
Burns not at all, but than it seems most bright.   

The fair stone Berrill is so precious,  
That mighty men do hold it very rare:  
It frees a man from actions perilous,  
If of his life's dear blood he have a care,  
And now and then being put into the Eyes,  
Defends a man from all his enemies.   

The stone Ceranicum spotted over with blue,  
Being safe and chastened borne within the hand,  
Thunders hot raging cracks that do ensue  
It doth expel, and Lightnings doth withstand,  
Defending of the house that many keep,  
And is effectual to bring men asleep.   

The Diamond the world's reflecting eye,  
The Diamond the heavens bright shining star,  
The Diamond the earth's most purest glory:  
And with the Diamond no Stone ●●n compare;  
She teacheth men to speak, and men to love,  
If all her rarest virtues you will prove.   

The Diamond taught Music first his cunning,  
The Diamond taught Poetry her skill,  
The Diamond gave Lawyer's first their learning,  
Arithmetic the Diamond taught at will:  
She teacheth all Arts: for within her eye,  
The knowledge of the world doth safely lie.   

Dradocos is a stone that's pale and wan,  
It brings to some men thoughts fantastical:  
It being laid upon a cold dead Man,  
Loseth the virtue it is graced withal;  
Wherefore 'tis called the most holy stone:  
For▪ whereas Death frequenteth it is gone.   

Achites is in colour violet,  
Found on the Banks of this delightsome place,  
Both male and female in this Land we get:  
Whose virtue doth the Princely Eagle grace;  
For being borne by her into her nest,  
She bringeth forth her young ones with much rest.   

This stone being bound fast to a woman's side,  
Within whose purest womb her child is lying,  
Doth hasten childbirth, and doth make her bide  
But little pain, her humours is releasing.  
If any one be guilty of Deceit,  
This stone will cause him to forsake his meat.   

Enidros is the stone that●s always sweeting,  
Distilling liquid drops continually:  
And yet for all his daily moisture melting,  
It keeps the self same bigness steadfastly:  
It never lesseneth, nor doth fall away,  
But in one steadfast perfectness doth stay.   

Perpetui fletus lachrymas distillat Enidros,  
Qui velut ex pleni fontis scaturigine manat.   

Gagates smelling like to Frankincense,  
Being left whereas the poisonous Serpents breed,  
Drives them away, and doth his force commence,  
Making this beast on barren plains to feed,  
And there to starve and pine away for meat,  
Because being there he finds no food to eat.   

This stone being put in a fair woman's drink,  
Will testify her pure Virginity,  
A most rare thing that some men never think,  
Yet you shall give your judgment easily,  
For if she make her water presently,  
Then hath this Woman lost her honesty.   

The lacinth is a neighbour to the sapphire,  
That doth transform itself to sundry sights,  
Sometimes 'tis black and cloudy, sometimes el●  
And from the mutable air borrows lights:  
It giveth strength and vigour in his kind,  
And fair sweet quiet sleep brings to the n   

Rabiates being clearly coloured,  
Borne about one doth make him eloquent,  
And in great honour to be favoured,  
If he do use it to a good intent,  
Fowl venomous Serpents it doth bring in awe,  
And cureth pain and grief about the ●awe.   

The iron-drawing Loadstone if you set  
Within a vessel, either Gold or Brass,  
And place a piece of Iron under it,  
Of some indifferent size or smallest compass,  
The loadstone on the top will cause it move,  
And by his virtue meet with it above.   

The Mead stone coloured like the grassy green,  
Much gentle ease unto the Gout hath done,  
And helpeth those being troubled with the Spleen,  
Mingled with Woman's milk bearing a Son:  
It remedi●h the wit-assailing Frenzy,  
And purgeth the sad mind of Melancholy.   

The stone Orites spotted over with white,  
Being worn, or hung about a woman's neck,  
Prohibiteth Conception and Delight,  
And the childbearing womb by force doth check:  
Or else it hast'neth her delivery,  
And makes the birth unperfect and untimely.   

Sky coloured sapphire Kings and Princes wear,  
Being held most precious in their judging sight:  
The very touch of this doth thoroughly cure  
The Carbuncles enraging hateful spite:  
It doth delight and recreate the Eyes,  
And all base grossness it doth quite despise.   

If in a box you put an envenomed Spider,  
Whose poisonous operation is annoying,  
And on the boxes top lay the true sapphire,  
The virtue of his power shows us his cunning,  
He vanquisheth the Spider, leaves him dead,  
And to Apollo now is consecrated.   

The fresh green coloured Smaragd doth excel  
All Trees, Boughs, Plants, and new fresh springing Leaves:  
The hot reflecting Sun can never quell  
His virtue, that no eyesight ere deceives,  
But o'er fair Phoebus' glory it triumpheth,  
And the dim dusky Eyes it polisheth.   

The valiant Caesar took his chief delight,  
By looking on the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 excellence,  
To see his Roman soldiers how they fight,  
And view what wards they had for their defence,  
And who excelled in perfect chivalry,  
And noblest boar himself in victory.   

This Stone doth serve to Divination,  
To tell of things to come, and things being past,  
And 'mongst us held in estimation,  
Giving the sick man's meat a gentle taste:  
If things shall be, it keeps in the Mind,  
If not, forgetfulness our Eyes doth blind.   

The Turches being worn in a Ring,  
If any Gentleman have cause to ride,  
Supports, and doth sustain him from all falling▪  
Or hurting of himself what ere betide:  
And ere he suffer any fearful danger,  
Will fall itself, and break, and burst a sunder.   〈◊〉. 
These wondrous things of Nature to men's eared  
Will almost prove (sweet Nature) incredible,  
But by Times ancient record it appears,  
These hidden secrets to be memorable:  
For his divineness that hath wrought this wonder,  
Rules men and beasts, the lightning and the thunder.  〈◊〉. 

For the world's blindness and opinion,  
I care not Phoenix, they are misbelieving,  
And if their eyes try not conclusion,  
They will not trust a strangers true reporting.  
With Beasts and Birds I will conclude my story,  
And to that All-in-all yield perfect glory.   

In yonder woody grove and fertile plain,  
Remains the Leopard and the watery Badger,  
The Bugle or wild Ox doth there remain,  
The Onocentaur and the cruel Tiger,  
The Dromidu●y and the princely Lion,  
The Boar, the Elephant, and the poisonous Dragon.   

The strong necked Bull that never f●lt the yoke,  
The Cat, the Dog, the Wolf, and cruel Viper,  
The lurking Hare that pretty sport provokes,  
The Goatebucke, Hedgehog and the swift foot Panther,  
The Horse, Cameleopard and strong pawd Bear,  
The Ape, the Ass▪ and the most fearful Dear.   

The Mouse, the Mule, the Sow and Salamander,  
That from the burning fire cannot live,  
The Weasel, Camel and the hunted Beaver,  
That in pursuit away his stones doth give:  
The Stellio, chameleon and Unicorn,  
That doth expel hot poison with his Hor●e.   

The cruel Bear in her conception,  
Brings forth at first a thing that's indigest,  
A lump of flesh without all fashion,  
Which she by often licking brings to rest▪  
Making a formal body good and sound,  
Which often in this Island we have found.   

Hic format lingua foetum, quem protulit Vrsa.   

The great wild Boar of nature terrible,  
With two strong Tusks for his armory,  
Sometimes assails the Bear most horrible,  
And twixt them is a fight both fierce and deadly:  
He hunteth after Marjoram and Organy,  
Which as a whetstone doth his need supply.   

The Bugle or wild Ox is never tamed,  
But with an iron ring put through his snout,  
That of some perfect strength must needs be framed,  
Then may you lead him all the world about:  
The Huntsmen find him hung within a tree,  
Fast by the horns and then thy use no pity.   

The Camel is of nature flexible,  
For when a burden on his back is bound,  
To ease the labourer, he is known most gentle,  
For why he kneeleth down upon the ground:  
Suffering the man to put it off or on,  
As it seems best in his discretion.   

They live some fifty or some hundred years,  
And can remain from water full four days,  
And most delight to drink when there appears,  
A muddy spring that's troubled many ways:  
Between them is a natural honest care,  
If one conjoineth with his Dam, 'tis ra●e.   

The Dragon is a poisonous venomed beast,  
With whom the Elephant is at enmity,  
And in contention they do never rest,  
Till one hath slain the other cruelly:  
The Dragon with the Elephant tries a fall,  
And being under he is slain withal.   

The bunch-backed, big-boned, swift-foot Dromidary  
Of Dromas the Greek word borrowing the nam●,  
For his quick flying speedy property:  
Which easily these country men do tame,  
Hel'go a hundredth miles within one day,  
And never seek in any place to stay.   

The Dog a natural, kind, and loving thing,  
As witnesseth our Histories of old:  
Their master dead, the poor fool with lamenting  
Doth kill himself before accounted bold:  
And would defend his master if he might,  
When cruelly his foe begins to fight.   

The Elephant with tusks ivory▪  
Is a great friend to man as he doth travel:  
The Dragon hating man most spitefully,  
The Elephant doth with the Dragon quarrel:  
And twixt them two is a most deadly strife,  
Till that the man be past, and saved his life.   

The Elephant seen in Astronomy,  
Will every month play the Physician:  
Taking delight his cunning for to try,  
Giving himself a sweet purgation▪  
And to the running springs himself address,  
And in the same wash off his filthiness.   

The Gote-bucke is a beast lascivious,  
And given much to filthy venery;  
Apt and prone to be contentious,  
Seeking by craft to kill his enemy:  
His blood being warm suppleth the Adamant,  
That neither fire or force could ever daunt.   

The hedgehog hath a sharp quick thorned garment,  
That on his back doth serve him for defence:  
He can presage the winds incontinent,  
And hath good knowledge in the difference  
Between the Southern and the Northern wind,  
These virtues are allotted him by kind.   

Whereon in Constantinople that great City,  
A merchant in his garden gave one nourishment:  
By which he knew the windstrue certainty,  
Because the Hedgehog gave him just presagement:  
Apples, or pears, or grapes, such is his meat,  
Which on his back he carries for to ●ate.   

The spotted Linx in face much like a Lion,  
His urine is of such a quality,  
In time it turneth to a precious stone,  
Called Ligari●s for his property:  
He hateth man so much, that he doth hide  
His urine in the earth, not to be spied.   

The princely Lion King of forrest-Kings,  
And chief Commander of the Wilderness,  
At whose fair feet all Beasts lay down their offerings,  
Yielding allegiance to his worthiness:  
His strength remaineth most within his head,  
His virtue in his heart is compassed.   

He never wrongs a man, nor hurts his prey,  
If they will yield submissive at his feet,  
He knoweth when the Lioness plays false play,  
If in all kindness he his love do meet:  
He doth defend the poor and innocent,  
And those that cruel-hearted Beasts have rend.   

Then is't not pity that the crafty Fox,  
The ravenous Wolf, the Tiger, and the Bear,  
The slow-past-dull-brained heavy Ox,  
Should strive so good a state to overweare?  
The Lion sleeps and laughs to see them strive,  
But in the end leaves not a beast alive.   

The Onocentaur is a monstrous beast;  
Supposed half a man and half an ass,  
That never shuts his eyes in quiet rest,  
Till he his foes dear life hath round encompassed,  
Such were the Centaurs in their tyranny,  
That lived by human flesh and villainy.   

The Stellio is a beast that takes his breath,  
And liveth by the dew that's heavenly,  
Taking his Food and Spirit of the earth,  
And so maintains his life in chastity,  
He takes delight to counterfeit all colours,  
And yet for all this he is ve●mous.   〈◊〉. 
'tis strange to hear such perfect difference,  
In all things that his M●ght● 〈◊〉 hath framed  
'tis strange to hear their 〈◊〉 of d●●enc●,  
Amongst all creatures that my Nurse hath named:  
Are there no Worms nor Serpents to be found  
In this sweet smelling Isle and fruitful ground?  Nature. 

Within a little corner towards the Fa●t,  
A moo●●sh plot of earth and dampish place,  
Some creeping Worms and Serpent's vs● to rest,  
And in a manner doth this bad ground grace:  
It is unpeopled and unhabited,  
For there with poisonous air they are ●ed.   

H●re lives the Worm, t●e Gnat and Grasshopper,  
Rinatrix, Li●ard and the fruitful Bee,  
T●e moth, Chelidras, and the Bloodsucker,  
That from the fl●sh sucks blood most speedily:  
Cerastis, Aspis and the Crocodile,  
That doth the wayfaring passenger beguile.   

The labouring Ant, and the bespeckled Adder,  
The ●rogge, the Toad, and S●mmer-hau●ting ●lie,  
The pretty Silkworm, and the poisonous viper,  
That with his teeth doth wound most cruel●y:  
The Hornet and the poisonous Cockatrice,  
That kills all birds by a most s●e device.   

The Aspis is a kind of deadly Snake,  
He hurts most perilous with venomed sting,  
And in pursuit doth near his foe forsake,  
But slays a Man with poisonous venoming:  
Between the male and female is such love,  
As is betwixt the most kind Turtle dove.   

This is the Snake that Cleopatra used,  
The Egyptian Queen beloved of Anthony,  
That with her breasts dear blood was nourished,  
Making her die (fair soul) most patiently,  
Rather than Caesar's great victorious hand,  
Should triumph over the Queen of such a land.   

The Lizard is a kind of loving creature,  
Especially to man he is a friend:  
This property is given him by nature,  
From dangerous beasts poor Man he doth defend:  
For being sleepy he all sense forsaketh,  
The Lizard bites him till the Man awaketh.   

The Ant or Emote is a labouring thing,  
And have amongst them all a public weal,  
In summer time their meat they are providing,  
And secrets 'mongst themselves they do conceal:  
The monstrous huge big Bear being sickly,  
Eating of these, is cured presently.   

The fruitful pretty be lives in the hive,  
Which unto him is like a peopled City,  
And by their daily labour there they thrive,  
Bringing home honeyed wax continually:  
They are reputed civil, and have kings,  
And guides for to direct them in proceedings.   

When that their Emperor or King is present,  
They live in peaceful sort and quietness,  
But if their officer or king be absent,  
They fly and swarm abroad in companies:  
If any happen casuall-wise to die,  
They mourn and bury him right solemnly.   

The Crocodile a saffron coloured Snake,  
Sometimes upon the earth is conversant,  
And other times lives in a filthy lake,  
Being oppressed with foul needy want:  
The skin upon his back as hard as stone,  
Resisteth violent strokes of steel or iron.   

Rinatrix is a poisonous envenomed Serpent,  
That doth infect the rivers and the fountains,  
Bringing to cattle hurt and detriment:  
When thirsty they forsake the steepy mountains,  
Rinatrix violator Aquae, and infects the earth,  
With his most noisome stinking filthy breath.   

The Scorpion hath a deadly stinging tail,  
Bewitching some with his fair smiling face,  
But presently with force he doth assail  
His captived pray, and brings him to disgrace:  
Wherefore 'tis called of some the flattering worm,  
That subtly his foe doth overturn.   

Orion made his boast the earth should bring  
O● yield no serpent forth but he would kill it,  
W●ere presently the Scorpion up did spring,  
For so the only powers above did will it:  
Where in the people's presence they did see,  
Orion stung to death most cruelly.   

Of Worms are divers sorts and divers names,  
Some feeding on hard timber some on trees,  
Some in the earth a secret cabbine frames,  
Some ●ue on tops of Ashes, some on Olives;  
Some of a red waterish colour, some of green,  
And some within the night like Fire are seen.   

T●e Silkworm by whose Web our Silks are made,  
Fo● she doth daily labour with her weaving,  
A Worm that's rich and precious in her trade,  
That whilst poor soul she toileth in her spinning,  
Leaves nothing in her belly but empty air,  
And toiling too much falleth to despair.   

Here lives the caddows and the long legged Crane,  
With whom the Pigmies are at mortal 〈◊〉,  
The Lark and Lapwing that with nets are ta'en,  
And so poor silly souls do end their life:  
The Nightingale wronged by Adultery,  
The Night●row, Goshawk, and the chattering Pi●.   

The Pheasant stork, and the high towering Falcon▪  
The Swan that in the 〈◊〉 takes delight,  
T●e 〈◊〉, Blackebird, and the big necked Heron,  
The skreeching Owl that loves the ●uskie night,  
The Partridge, Griffon, and th● li●ely Peacock,  
The Linnet, Bulsinch, Snipe, and ravening Puttock▪   

The Robin Redbreast that in Winter ●i●gs,  
The Pelican, the ●ay, and the chirping Sparrow,  
The little Wr●n that many young ones brings,  
Her●in, Ibis, and the swift winged Swallow:  
The princely Eagle and Caladrius,  
The Cuckoo that to some is prosperous.   

The snow-like coloured bird Caladrius,  
Hath this inestimable natural prosperity,  
If any man in sickness dangerous,  
Hopes of his health to have recovery,  
This bird will always look with cheerful glance,  
If otherwise, sad is his countenance.   

The Crane directed by the leaders voice,  
Flies over the seas, to countries far unknown,  
And in the secret night they do rejoice,  
To make a watch among them of their own;  
The watchman in his claws holds fast a stone,  
Which letting fall the rest are waked anon.   

The Spring-delighting bird we call the Cuckoo▪  
Which comes to tell of wonders in this age,  
Her pretty one note to the world doth show  
Some men their destiny, and doth presage  
The woman's pleasure and the man's disgrace,  
Which she sits singing in a secret place.   

The Winter's envious blast she never tasteth,  
Yet in all countries doth the Cuckoo sing,  
And oftentimes to peopled towns she hasteth,  
There for to tell the pleasures of the Spring:  
Great Courtiers hear her voice, but let her fly,  
Knowing that she presageth Destiny.   

This pretty bird sometimes upon the steeple,  
Sings Cuckoo, Cuckoo, to the parish Priest,  
Sometimes again she flies amongst the people,  
A●d on their Cross no man can her resist,  
But there she sings, yet some disdaining Dames,  
Do charm her hoarse, lest she should hit their names.   

She scorns to labour or make up a nest,  
But creeps by stealth into some others room,  
And with the Larks dear young, her young-ones rest,  
Being by subtle dealing overcome:  
The young birds are restorative to eat,  
And held amongst us as a Prince's meat.   

The Princely Eagle of all Birds the King,  
For none but she can gaze against the Sun,  
Her eyesight is so clear, that in her flying  
She spies the smallest beast that ever run,  
As swift as gun-shot using no delay,  
So swiftly doth she fly to catch her pray.   

She brings her birds being young into the air,  
And sets them for to look on Phoebus' light,  
But if their eyes with gazing chance to water,  
Those she accounteth bastards, leaves them quite,  
But those that have true perfect constant eyes,  
She cherisheth, the rest she doth despise.   

The Griffon is a bird rich feathered,  
His head is like a Lion, and his flight  
Is like the Eagles, much for to be feared,  
For why he kills men in the ugly night:  
Some say he keeps the Smaragd and the jasper,  
And in pursuit of Man is monstrous eager.   

The gentle birds called the fair Hircinie,  
Taking the name of that place where they breed,  
Within the night they shine so gloriously,  
That man's astonished senses they do feed:  
For in the dark being cast within the way,  
Gives light unto the man that goes astray.   

Ibis' the bird flieth to Nilus' flood,  
And drinking of the water purgeth clean:  
Unto the land of Egypt he doth good,  
For he to rid their Serpents is a mean;  
He feedeth on their eggs, and doth destroy  
The Serpent's nests that would their Clime annoy.   

The Lapwing hath a piteous mournful cry,  
And sings a sorrowful and heavy song,  
But yet she's full of craft and subtlety,  
And weary most being farthest from her young:  
In elder age she served for Soothsayers,  
And was a Prophetess to the Augurers.   

The birds of Egypt or M●mnodides,  
Of Me●non that was slain in rescuing Troy,  
Are said to fly away in company's,  
To Priam's palace, and there twice a day  
They fight about the turrets of the dead,  
And the third day in battle are confounded.   

The Nightingale the night's true Chorister,  
Musics chief lo●er in the pleasant Spring,  
Tunes Hunts-up to the Sun that doth delight her,  
And to Arion's harp aloud will sing:  
And as a Bridegroom that to church is coming,  
So he salutes the Sun when he is rising.   

The Roman Caesars, happy Emperors,  
Especially those of the youngest sort,  
Have kept the Nightingale within their towers,  
To play, to da●ly, and to make them sport,  
And oftentimes in Greek and Latin tongue,  
They taught those birds to sing a pleasant song.   

This bird as Histories make mention,  
S●ng in the infant mouth of Stesichor●s,  
W●ich did foretell due commendation,  
In all his actions to be prosperous:  
So Bees when Plato in his bed did lie,  
Swarmed round about his mouth, leaving their honey.   

The sluggish slothful and the dastard Owl,  
Hating the day, and loving of the night,  
About old sepulchres doth daily ●owle,  
Frequenting barns and houses without light,  
And hides him often in an ivy tree,  
Lest with small chattering birds wronged he should be.   

Foedaque sic volucris venturi nuntia luctus,  
Ignaws Bubo, dirum mortalibus omen.   

The filthy messenger of ill to come  
The sluggish Owl is, and to danger some.   

This ill be dooming Owl sat on the spear,  
Of warlike Pyrrhus marching to the field,  
When to the Grecian army he drew near,  
Determining to make his foes to yield,  
Which did foreshow sinister happiness,  
And baleful fortune in his business.   

The Parrot called the counterfeiting bird,  
Decked with all colours that fair Flora yields,  
That after one will speak you word for word:  
Living in woody groves near fertile fields,  
They have been known to give great Emperor's wine,  
And therefore some men hold them for divine.   

The proud sun-braving Peacock with his feathers,  
Walks all along, thinking himself a King,  
And with his voice prognosticates all weathers,  
Although God knows but badly he doth sing:  
But when he looks down to his base black Feet,  
He droops, and is ashamed of things unmeet.   

The mighty Macedonian Alexander,  
Marching in lovely triumph to his foes,  
Being accounted the world's conqueror,  
In Indie spies a Peacock as he goes,  
And marveling to see so rich a sight,  
Charged all men not to kill his sweet delight.   

The Pelican the wonder of our age,  
(As Jerome saith) revives her tender young,  
And with her purest blood, she doth assuage  
Her young ones thirst, with poisonous Adder stung,  
And those that were supposed three days dead.  
She gives them life once more being nourished.   

The unsatiate Sparrow doth prognosticate,  
And is held good for divination,  
For flying here and there, from gate to gate,  
Foretls true things by animaduertion:  
A flight of Sparrows flying in the day,  
Did prophesy the fall and sack of Troy.   

The artificial nest-composing Swallow,  
That eats his meat ●lying along the way,  
Whose swiftness in our eyesight doth allow,  
That no imperial Bird makes her his prey:  
His young ones being hurt within the eyes,  
His helps them with the hebbe chalcedonies.   

Cecinna and the great Volateran,  
Being Pomp●is warlike and approved knights,  
Sent letters by these Birds without a man,  
To many of their friends and chief delights,  
And all their letters to their feet did ti●,  
Which with great speed did bring them hastily.   

The sweet recording Swan Apollo's joy,  
And fiery scorched Phaeton's delight,  
In footed verse sings out his deep annoy,  
And to the silver rivers takes his flight,  
Prognosticates to Sailors on the seas,  
Fortune's prosperity and perfect ●ase.   

Cignus in auspicijs semper laetissimus ales,  
Hoc optant nautae, quia se non mergit in undis.   Phoenix. 
But what sad-mournefull drooping soul is this,  
Within whose watery eyes sits Discontent,  
Whose snail-paced gate tells something is amiss:  
From whom is banished sporting Merriment:  
Whose feathers mote off, falling as he goes,  
The perfect picture of heart pining woes?  Nature. 
This is the careful bird the Turtle Dove,  
Whose heavy croaking note doth show his grief,  
And thus he wanders seeking of his love,  
Refusing all things that may yield relief:  
All motions of good turns, all Mirth and joy,  
Are bad, fled, gone, and fa●ne into decay.  Phoenix. 

Is this the true example of the Heart?  
Is this the Tutor of fair Constancy?  
Is this loves treasure, and loves pining smart?  
Is this the substance of all honesty?  
And comes he thus attired, alas poor soul,  
That Destinies foul wrath should thee control.   

See nurse, he stars and looks me in the face,  
And now he mourns, worse than he did before,  
He hath forgot his dull slow heavy pace,  
But with swift gate he eyes us more and more:  
O shall I welcome him, and let me borrow  
Some of his grief to mingle with my sorrow.   Nature. 
Farewell fair bird, I'll leave you both alone,  
This is the Dove you longed so much to see,  
And this will prove companion of your moan,  
An Umpire of all true humility:  
Then note my Phoenix, what there may ensue,  
And so I kiss my bird. Adieu, Adieu.  Phoenix. 
Mother farewell; and now within his eyes,  
Sits sorrow clothed in a sea of tears,  
And more and more the billows do arise:  
Pale Grief half pined upon his brow appears,  
His feathers fade away, and make him look,  
As if his name were writ in Death's pale book.  Turtle. 
O stay poor Turtle, whereat hast thou gazed,  
At the eye-dazling Sun, whose sweet reflection,  
The round encompassed heavenly world amazed?  
O no, a child of Nature's true complexion,  
The perfect Phoenix of rariety,  
For wit, for virtue, and excelling beauty.  〈…〉 
Hail map of sorrow: Tur. Welcome Cupid's child.  
Let me wipe off those tears upon thy cheeks,  
That stained thy beauty's pride, and have defiled  
Nature itself, that so usurping seeks  
To sit upon thy face, for I'll be partner,  
Of thy hearts wrapped sorrow more hereafter.  T●rt●e. 

Nature's fair darling, let me kneel to thee,  
And offer up my true obedience,  
And sacredly in all humility,  
Crave pardon for presumptions foul offence:  
Thy lawne-snow-coloured hand shall not come near  
My impure face, to wipe away one tear.   

My tears are for my Turtle that is dead,  
My sorrow springs from her want that is gone,  
My heavy note sounds for the soul that's fled,  
And I will die for him left all alone:  
I am not living, though I seem to go,  
Already buried in the grave of wo.   Phoenix. 

Why I have left Arabia for thy sake,  
Because those fires have no working substance,  
And for to find thee out did undertake:  
Where on the mountain top we may advance  
Our fiery altar; let me tell thee this,  
Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.   

Come poor lamenting soul, come sit by me,  
We are all one, thy sorrow shall be mine,  
Fall thou a tear, and thou shalt plainly see,  
Mine eyes shall answer tear for tear of thine:  
Sigh thou, I'll sigh, and if thou give a groan,  
I shall be dead in answering of thy moan.   Turtle. 
loves honourable Friend, one groan of yours,  
Will rend my sicke-love-pining heart asunder,  
One sigh brings tears from me like April showers,  
Procured by summers hot loud cracking thunder:  
Be you as merry as sweet mirth may be,  
I'll groan and sigh, both for yourself and me.  Phoenix. 
Thou shalt not gentle Turtle, I will bear  
Half of the burdenous yoke thou dost sustain,  
Two bodies may with greater ease outwear  
A troublesome labour, then I'll brook some pain,  
But tell me gentle Turtle, tell me truly  
The difference betwixt false Love and true Sincerity.  Turtle. 

That shall I briefly, if you'll give me leave,  
False love is full of Envy and Deceit,  
With cunning shifts our humours to deceive,  
Laying down poison for a sugared bait,  
Always in constant, false, and variable,  
Delighting in fond change and mutable.   

True love, is loving pure, not to be broken,  
But with an honest eye, she eyes her lover,  
Not changing variable, nor never shoken  
With fond Suspicion, secrets to discover,  
True love will tell no lies, nor ne'er dissemble,  
But with a bashful modest fear will tremble.   

False love puts on a Mask to shade her folly,  
True love goes naked wishing to be seen,  
False love will counterfeit perpetually,  
True love is Troths sweet emperizing Queene●  
This is the difference, true Love is a jewel,  
False love, heart's tyrant, inhuman, and cruel.   Phoenix. 

What may we wonder at? O where is learning?  
Where is all difference twixt the good and bad?  
Where is Apelles art? where is true cunning?  
Nay where is all the virtue may be had?  
Within my Turtles bosom, she refines,  
More than some loving perfect true divines.   

Thou shalt not be no more the Turtle-dove,  
Thou shalt no more go weeping all alone,  
For thou shalt be myself, my perfect Love,  
Thy grief is mine, thy sorrow is my moan,  
Come kiss me sweetest sweet, O I do bless  
This gracious lucky Sunshine happiness.   Turtle. 
How may I in all gratefulness requite,  
This gracious favour offered to thy servant?  
The time affordeth heaviness not delight,  
And to the times appoint we'll be observant:  
Command, O do command, what ere thou wilt,  
My heart's blood for thy sake shall strait be spilled.  Phoenix. 
Then I command thee on thy tender care,  
And chief obedience that thou ow'st to me,  
That thou especially (dear Bird) beware  
Of impure thoughts, or unclean chastity:  
For we must waste together in that fire,  
That will not burn but by true loves desire.  Turtle. 
A spot of that foul monster near did stain,  
These drooping feathers, nor I never knew  
In what base filthy climate doth remain  
That sprite incarnate; and to tell you true,  
I am as spotless as the purest white,  
Clear without stain, of envy, or despite.  Ph●●●ix. 
Then to yond next adjoining grove we'll ●lye,  
And gather sweet wood for to make our flame,  
And in a manner sacrificingly,  
Burn both our bodies to revive one name:  
And in all humbleness we will entreat,  
The hot earth parching Sun to lend his heat.  Turtle. 
Why now my heart is light, this very doom  
Hath banished sorrow from my pensive breast:  
And in my bosom there is left no room,  
To set black melancholy, or let him rest;  
I'll fetch sweet myrrh to burn, and liquorice,  
Sweet juniper, and straw them over with spice.  Phoenix. 

Pile up the wood, and let us invocate  
His great name that doth ride within his chariot,  
And guides the days bright eye, let's nominate  
Some of his blessings, that he well may wot,  
Our faithful service and humility,  
Offered unto his highest Deiety.   

Great God Apollo, for the tender love,  
Thou once didst bear to wilful Phaeton,  
That did desire thy chariots rule above,  
Which thou didst grieve in heart to think upon:  
Send thy hot kindling light into this wood,  
That shall receive the Sacrifice of blood.   ●●rtle. 
For thy sweet Daphne's sake thy best beloved,  
And for the Harp received of Mercury,  
And for the Muses of thee favoured,  
Whose gift of wit excels all excellency:  
Send thy hot kindling fire into this wood,  
That shall receive the Sacrifice of blood.  〈◊〉 

For thy sweet father's sake great jupiter,  
That with his thunderbolts commands the earth,  
And for Latona's sake thy gentle mother,  
That first gave Phoebus' glories lively breath:  
Send thy hot kindling light into this wood,  
That shall receive the Sacrifice of blood.   

Stay, stay, poor Turtle, o we are betrayed,  
Behind yond little bush there sits a spy,  
That makes me blush with anger, half afraid,  
That in our motions secrecly would pry:  
I will go chide with him, and drive him thence,  
And plague him for presumptions foul offence.   Turtle. 

Be not afraid, it is the Pelican,  
Look how her young-ones make her breast to bleed,  
And draws the blood forth, do the best she can,  
And with the same their hungry fancies feed,  
Let her alone to view our Tragedy,  
And then report our Love that she did see.   

See beauteous Phoenix it begins to burn,  
O blessed Phoebus, happy, happy light,  
Now will I recompense thy great good turn,  
And first (dear bird) I'll vanish in thy sight,  
And thou shalt see with what a quick desire,  
I'll leap into the middle of the fire.   Phoenix. 
Stay Turtle stay, for I will first prepare;  
Of my bones must the Princely Phoenix rise,  
And if'ft be possible thy blood we'll spare,  
For none but for my sake, dost thou despise  
This frailty of thy life, o live thou still,  
And teach the base deceitful world loves will.  ●urtle. 
Have I come hither drooping through the woods,  
And left the springing groves to seek for thee?  
Have I forsook to bathe me in the floods,  
And pined away in careful misery?  
Do not deny me Phoenix I must be  
A partner in this happy Tragedy.  Ph●●●ix. 
O holy, sacred, and pure perfect fire,  
More pure than that o'er which fair Dido moans,  
More sacred in my loving kind desire,  
Then that which burned old Esons aged bones,  
Accept into your ever hallowed flame,  
Two bodies, from the which may spring one name.  ●urtle. 
O sweet perfumed flame, made of those trees,  
Under the which the Muses nine have song  
The praise of virtuous maids in mysteries,  
To whom the fair faced Nymphs did often throng;  
Accept my body as a Sacrifice  
Into your flame, of whom one name may rise.  Phoenix. 

O wilfulness, see how with smiling cheer,  
My poor dear heart hath flung himself to thrall,  
Look what a mirthful countenance he doth bear,  
Spreading his wings abroad, and joys withal:  
Learn thou corrupted world, learn, hear, and see,  
Friendships unspotted true sincerity.   

I come sweet Turtle, and with my bright wings,  
I will embrace thy burnt bones as they lie,  
I hope of these another Creature springs,  
That shall possess both our authority:  
I stay to long, o take me to your glory,  
And thus I end the Turtle Doves true story.   
Finis. R. C.   

Pelican.  
WHat wondrous hart-grieving spectacle,  
Hast thou beheld the world's true miracle?  
With what a spirit did the Turtle fly  
Into the fire, and cheerfully did die?  
He looked more pleasant in his countenance  
Within the flame, then when he did advance,  
His pleasant wings upon the natural ground,  
True perfect love had so his poor heart bound,  
The Phoenix Nature's dear adopted child,  
With a pale heavy countenance, wan and mild,  
Grieved for to see him first possess the place,  
That was allotted her, herself to grace,  
And follows cheerfully her second turn,  
And both together in that fire do burn.  
O if the rarest creatures of the earth,  
Because but one at once did ere take breath  
Within the world, should with a second he,  
A perfect form of love and amity  
Burn both together, what should there arise,  
And be presented to our mortal eyes,  
Out of the fire, but a more perfect creature?  
Because that two in one is put by Nature,  
The one hath given the child enchanting beauty,  
The other gives it love and chastity:  
The one hath given it wits rarity,  
The other guides the wit most charily:  
The one for virtue doth excel the rest,  
The other in true constancy is blest.  
If that the Phoenix had been separated,  
And from the gentle Turtle had been parted,  
Love had been murdered in the infancy,  
Without these two no love at all can be.  
Let the love wandering wits but learn of these,  
To die together, so their grief to ease:  
But lovers now adays do love to change,  
And here and there their wanton eyes do range▪  
Not pleased with one choice, but seeking many,  
And in the end scarce is content with any:  
Love now adays is like a shadowed sight,  
That shows it s●lfe in Pho●hus golden light,  
But if in kindness you do strive to take it,  
Fades clean away, and you must needs for sake it.  
lovers are like the leaves with Winter shoken,  
Brittle like glass, that with one fall is broken.  
O fond corrupted age, when birds shall show  
The world their duty, and to let men know  
That no sinister chance should hinder love,  
Though as these two did, deaths arrest they prove.  
I can but mourn with sadness and with grief,  
Not able for to yield the world relief,  
To see these two consumed in the fire,  
Whom Love did copulate with true desire:  
But in the world's wide ear I mean to ring  
The fame of this days wondrous offering,  
That they may sing in notes of Chastity,  
The Turtle and the Phoenix amity.   

Conclusion.  
GEntle conceivers of true meaning Wit,  
Let good Experience judge what I have writ,  
For the Satirical fond applauded veins,  
Whose bitter wormwood spirit in some strains,  
By't like the Curs of Egypt those that love them,  
Let me alone, I will be loath to move them,  
For why, when mighty men their wit do prove,  
How shall I least of all expect their love?  
Yet to those men I gratulate some pain,  
Because they touch those that in art do feign▪  
But those that have the spirit to do good,  
Their whips will will never draw one drop of blood:  
To all and all in all that view my labour,  
Of every judging sight I crave some favour  
At least to read, and if you reading find,  
A lame legged staff, 'tis lameness of the mind  
That had no better skill: yet let it pass,  
For burdenous loads are set upon an Ass.  
From the sweet fire of perfumed wood,  
Another princely Phoenix upright stood:  
Whose feathers purified did yield more light,  
Then her late burned mother out of sight,  
And in her heart rests a perpetual love,  
Sprung from the bosom of the Turtle-dove.  
Long may the new uprising bird increase,  
Some humours and some motions to release,  
And thus to all I offer my devotion,  
Hoping that gentle minds accept my motion.  
Finis. R. C.    

Cantos Alphabet-wise to fair Phoenix made by the Paphian Dove.  

A. 1.  
A Hill, a hill, a Phoenix seeks a Hill;  
A promontory top, a stately Mountain,  
A River, where poor soul she dips her bill,  
And that sweet silver stream is Nature's fountain,  
Accomplishing all pleasures at her will:  
Ah, be my Phoenix, I will be thy Dove,  
And thou and I in secrecy will love.   

B. 2.  
Blaze not my love, thou Herald of the day,  
Bless not the mountain tops with my sweet shine,  
Beloved more I am then thou canst say,  
Blessed and blessed be that Saint of mine,  
Balm, honey sweet, and honour of this Clime:  
Blotted by things unseen, beloved of many,  
But loves true motion dares not give to any.   

C. 3.  
Chasteness farewell, farewell the bed of Glory,  
Constraint adieu, thou art loves Enemy,  
Come true Report, make of my Love a Story,  
Cast lots for my poor heart, so thou enjoy me,  
Come come sweet Phoenix, I at length do claim thee,  
Chaste bird, too chaste, to hinder what is willing,  
Come in mine arms and we'll not sit a billing.   

D. 4.  
Devout obedience on my knees I proffer,  
Delight matched with delight, if thou do crave it,  
Deny not gentle Phoenix my sweet offer,  
Despair not in my love, for thou shalt have it,  
Damn not the soul to woe if thou canst save it:  
Doves pray devoutly, O let me request,  
Delicious love to build within thy nest.   

E. 5.  
Envy is banished, do not thou despair,  
Evil motions tempt thee sooner than the good:  
every thy beauty that art famed for fair,  
Every thing's silent to conjoin thy blood,  
Esteem the thing that cannot be withstood:  
Esteem of me, and I will lend thee fire,  
Even of mine own to fit thy sweet desire.   

F. 6.  
Faint hearted soul, why dost thou die thy cheeks,  
Fearful of that which will revive thy sense,  
Faith and obedience thy sweet mercy seeks,  
Friend's plighted war with thee I will commence,  
Fear not at all, 'tis but sweet loves offence,  
Fit to be done, so doing 'tis not seen,  
Fetched from the ancient records of a Queen.   

G. 7.  
Gold beautifying Phoenix, I must praise thee,  
Granut gracious heavens a delightsome Muse,  
Give me old Homer's spirit, and I'll raise thee,  
Gracious in thought do not my Love refuse,  
Great map of beauty make thou no excuse,  
'Gainst my true loving spirit do not carp,  
Grant me to play my Sonnet on thy Harp.   

H. 8.  
Health to thy virtues, health to all thy beauty,  
Honour attend thy steps when thou art going,  
High heavens force the birds to owe thee duty;  
Hart-groning care to thee still stands a wooing,  
Have pity on him Phoenix for so doing:  
Help his disease, and cure his malady,  
Hide not thy secret glory lest he die.   

I. 9  
I Love, o Love how thou abusest me,  
I see the fire, and warm me with the flame,  
I note the errors of thy deity:  
In Vesta's honour, Venus lusts to tame,  
I in my humours yield thee not a name,  
I count thee foolish, 〈◊〉 Adulterous boy,  
I touch the sweet, but cannot taste the joy.   

K. 10.  
Kisses are true loves pledges, kiss thy dear Turtle,  
Keep not from him the secrets of thy youth:  
Knowledge he'll teach thee under a green spread Myrtle▪  
Kend. shalt thou be of no man, of my truth,  
Know first the motion, when the life ensueth:  
Knock at my heart's door, I will be thy porter,  
So thou wilt let me enter in thy dorter.   

L. 11.  
Love is my great Aduotrix, at thy shrine  
Love pleads for me, and from my tongue doth say,  
Lie where thou wilt, my heart shall sleep with thine,  
Lamenting of thy beauty fresh as May,  
Look Phoenix to thyself do not decay:  
Let me but water thy dead sapless flower,  
Love gives me hope 'twill flourish in an hour.   

M. 12.  
Make not a jewel of nice Chastity,  
Muster and summon all thy wits in one,  
My heart to thee swears perfect constancy:  
Motions of zeal are to be thought upon,  
Mark how thy time is overspent, and gone,  
Misled by folly, and a kind of fear,  
Mark not thy beauty so my dearest dear.   

N. 13.  
Note but the fresh bloomed Rose within her pride,  
(No Rose to be compared unto thee)  
Nothing so soon unto the ground will slide,  
Not being gathered in her chiefest beauty,  
Neglecting time it dies with infamy:  
Never be coy, lest whilst thy leaves are spread,  
None gather thee, and then thy grace is dead.   

O. 14.  
O look upon me, and within my brow,  
Officious motions of my heart appears,  
Opening the book of Love, wherein I vow,  
Over thy shrine to shed continual tears:  
O no, I see my Phoenix hath no Ears,  
Or if she have Ears, yet no Eyes to see▪  
O all disgraced with continual folly.   

P. 15.  
Proud Chastity, why dost thou seek to wrong  
Phoenix my Love, with l●ssons too precise?  
Pray thou for me, and I will make a song,  
Penned in thine honour, none shall equalize,  
Possess not her, whose beauty charms mine eyes,  
Plead, sue, and seek, or I will banish thee,  
Her body is my Castle and my fee.   

Q. 16.  
Question not Phoenix why I do adore thee,  
Quite captivate and prisoner at thy call,  
Quit me with Love again, do not abhor me,  
Quelled down with hope as subjugate to thrall,  
Quailed will I never be despite of all;  
Quaking I stand before thee, still expecting  
Thine own consent, our joys to be effecting.   

R. 17.  
Remember how thy beauty is abused,  
Racked on the tenterhooks of foul disgrace,  
Rivers are dry, and must be needs refused,  
Restore new water in that dead founts place,  
Refresh thy feathers, beautify thy face:  
Read on my book, and there thou shalt behold  
Rich loving letters printed in fine gold.   

S. 18.  
Shame is ashamed to see thee obstinate,  
Smiling at thy womanish conceit,  
Swearing that honour never thee begat,  
Sucking in poison for a sugared bait,  
Singing thy pride of beauty in her height:  
Sat by my side, and I will sing to thee  
Sweet ditties of a new framed harmony.   

T. 19  
Thou art a Turtle wanting of thy mate,  
Thou crok'st about the groves to find thy Lover,  
Thou fliest to woods, and fertile plains dost hate:  
Thou in oblivion dost true virtue smother,  
To thy sweet self thou canst not find another:  
Turn up my bosom, and in my pure heart,  
Thou shalt behold the Turtle of thy smart.   

V. 20.  
Upon a day I sought to scale a Fort,  
United with a Tower of sure defence;  
Uncomfortable trees did mar my sport,  
Unlucky Fortune with my woes expense,  
Venus with Mars would not sweet war commence,  
Upon an Altar would I offer Love,  
And Sacrifice my soul poor Turtle Dove.   

W. 21.  
Weep not my Phoenix, though I daily weep,  
Woe is the Herald that declares my tale,  
Worthy thou art in Venus' lap to sleep,  
wanton covered with God Cupid's vale,  
With which he doth all mortal sense ●●hale:  
Wash not thy cheeks, vnles●e I sit by thee,  
To dry them with my sighs immediately.   

X. 22.  
Xantha fair Nymph; resemble not in Nature,  
Xantippe Love to patient Socrates,  
Xantha my Love is a more milder creature,  
And of a Nature better for to please:  
Xantippe thought her true Love to disease,  
But my rare Phoenix is at last well pleased,  
To cure my passions, passions seldom eased.   

Y. 23.  
If thou have pity, pity my complaining,  
It is a badge of Virtue in thy sex,  
If thou do kill me with thy coy disdaining,  
It will at length thy self-will anguish vex,  
And with continual sighs thyself perplex:  
I'll help to bring thee wood to make thy fire,  
If thou wilt give me kisses for my hire.   

Z. 24.  
Zenobia at thy feet I bend my knee,  
For thou art Queen and Empress of my heart,  
All blessed hap and true felicity,  
All pleasures that the wide world may impart,  
Befall thee for thy gracious go●d desert:  
Accept my meaning as it fits my turn,  
For I with thee to ashes mean to burn.    

Cantos Verbally written.  

1.  
Pity me that dies for thee.  

Pity  Pity my plain thou true nurse of pity,  

me  Me hath thy piercing looks enjoind to sighing,  

that  That cannot be redressed, for thy beauty  

dies  Dies my sad heart, sad heart that's drowned with weeping:  

for  For what so ere I think, or what I do,  

thee.  Thee with mine eyes, my thoughts, my heart, I woe.   

2.  
My life you save, if you I have.  

My  My eyes, my hand, my heart seek to maintain  

life  Life for thy love, therefore be gracious,  

you  You with your kindness have my true heart slain,  

save,  Save my poor life, and be not tyrannous,  

if  If any grace do in thy breast remain,  

you  You women have been counted amorous;  

I  I pine in sadness, all proceeds from thee,  

have.  Have me in liking through thy clemency.   

3.  
Do thou by me, as I by thee.  

Do  Do not exchange thy love, le●t in exchanging,  

thou  Thou bear the burdenous blot of foul disgrace,  

by  By that bad fault are many faults containing,  

me,  Me still assuring nothing is so base,  

as  As in the world's eye always to be ranging:  

I  I swear sweet Phoenix in this holy case,  

by  By all the sacred relics of true love,  

thee.  Thee to adore whom I still constant prove.   

4.  
Vouchsafe to think how I do pine,  
In loving thee that art not mine.  

Vouchsafe  Vouchsafe with splendour of thy gracious look,  

to  To grace my passions, passions still increasing:  

think  Think with thyself how I thy absence brook,  

how  How day by day, my plaints are never ceasing,  

I  I have for thee all companies forsook;  

do  Do thou rejoice, and in rejoicing say,  

pine,  Pine near so much I'll take thy grief away.   


In  In that great gracing word shalt thou be counted  

loving  Loving to him, that is thy true sworn lover,  

thee  Thee on the stage of honour have I mounted,  

that  That no base misty cloud shall ever cover:  

art  Art thou not fair? thy beauty do not smother;  

not  Not in thy flowering youth, but still suppose  

mine.  Mine own to be, my never dying Rose.   

5.  
My destiny to thee is known,  
Cure thou my smart, I am thine own.  

My  My time in loves blind idleness is spent,  

destiny  Destiny and Fates do will it so,  

to  To Circe's charming tongue mine ear I lent,  

thee  Thee loving that dost wish my overthrow:  

is  Is not this world wrapped in inconstancy,  

known.  Known to most men as hell's misery?   


Cure  Cure of my wound is passed all Physics skill,  

thou  Thou mayst be gracious, at thy very look  

my  My wounds will close, that would my body kill,  

smart  Smart will b● eased that could no plasters brook;  

I  I of my Phoenix being quite forsook,  

am  Am like a man that nothing can fulfil:  

thine  Thine ever-piercing eye of force will make me,  

own.  Own heart, own love, that never will forsake thee.   

6.  
o'er my heart your eyes do idolatrize.  

o'er  o'er the wide world my love-lays I'll be sending,  

my  My love-lays in my loves praise always written,  

heart  Heart-comfortable motions still attending,  

your  Your beauty and your virtuous zeal commending,  

eyes  Eyes that no frosts-cold-rage hath ever bitten:  

do  Do you then think that I in loves hot fire,  

idolatrize.  Idolatrize and surphet in desire.   

7.  
I had rather love though in vain that face,  
Then have of any other grace.  

I  I being forced to carry Venus' shield,  

had  Had rather bear a Phoenix for my crest,  

rather  Rather than any bird within the field,  

love  Love tells me that her beauty is the best:  

though  Though some desire fair Vesta's turtle-dove,  

in  In my Birds bosom resteth perfect love.   


Vain  Vain is that blind unskilful heraldry,  

that  That will not cause my bird that is so rare,  

face,  Face all the world for her rarity,  

then  Than who with her for honour may compare?  

have  Have we one like her for her pride of beauty,  

of  Of all the feathered Quire in the air?  

any  Any but unto her do owe their duty:  

other  Other may blaze, but I will always say,  

grace.  Grace whom thou list, she bears the palm away.   

8.  
What ever fall, I am at call.  

What  What thunder storms of envy shall arise,  

ever  Ever to thee my heart is durable,  

fall,  Fall fortunes wheel on me to tyrannize,  

I  I will be always found inexorable:  

am  Am I not then to thee most stable?  

at  At morn, midnight, and at midday's sun,  

call.  Call when thou wilt, my dear, to thee I'll run.   

9  
I had rather love, though in vain that face,  
Then have of any other grace,  

I  I now do wish my love should be relieved,  

had  Had I my thoughts in compass of my will,  

rather  Rather than live and surfeit being grieved,  

love  Love in my breast doth wondrous things fulfil,  

though  Though loves unkindness many men do kill,  

in  In her I trust, that is my true sworn lover,  

vain  Vain he doth write that doth her virtues smother.   


that  That she is fair, Nature herself alloweth,  

face,  Face full of beauty, eyes resembling fire,  

then  Then my pure heart to love thy heart still voweth,  

have  Have me in favour for my good desire,  

of  Of holy love, loves Temple to aspire;  

any  An● but thee my thoughts will here require,  

other  Other sweet motions now I will conceal  

grace.  Grace these rude lines that my hearts thoughts reveal,   

10.  
Disgrace not me, in loving thee.  

Disgrace  Disgrace be banished from thy heavenly brow,  

not  Not entertained of thy piercing eye,  

me  Me thy sweet lips, a sweet touch will allow,  

in  In thy fair bosom would I always lie,  

loving  Loving in such a downbed to be placed,  

thee.  Thee for to please, myself for ever graced.   

11.  
I had rather love though in vain that face,  
Then have of any other grace.  

I  I live enriched with gifts of great content,  

had  Had my desires the guerdon of good will,  

rather  Rather than taste of Fortune's fickle bent,  

love  Love bids me die, and scorn her witless skill,  

tho●gh  Though Love command, Despair doth still attend,  

in  I● hazard proves oft times but doubtful end.  

vain  Vain is the love encountered with denayes,  

that  That yields but grief, where grace should rather grow,  

face,  Face full of fury, void of courteous praise:  

then  Then since all love consists of weal and woe,  

have  Have still in mind, that love deserves the best,  

of  Of heart's the touchstone, inward motions loving,  

any  Any that yields the fruit of true-love's rest,  

other  Other I love unworthy of commending,  

grac●.  Graced with bare beauty, beauty most offending.   

12.  
Myself and mine, are always thine.  

My  My care to have my blooming Rose not wither,  

self  Self-loving Envy shall it not deny,  

and  And that base weed thy growth doth seek to hinder,  

mine  Mine hands shall pull him up immediately,  

are  Are they not envious monsters in thine eye,  

always  Always with vain occasions to enclose  

thine  Thine ever growing beauty, like the Rose?   

13.  
The darting of your eyes, may heal or wound,  
Let not empiring looks my heart confound.  

The  The ey-bals in your head are Cupid's fire,  

darting  Darting such hot sparkles at my breast,  

of  Of force I am enthralled, and do desire  

your  Your gracious love, to make me happy blest:  

●yes  Eyes, lips, and tongue have caused my unrest,  

may  May I unto the height of grace aspire,  

heal  heal my sick heart with loves great grief oppressed,  

●r  Or if to fire thou wilt not yield such fuel,  

wound.  Wound me to death, and so be counted cruel.   


Let  Let the wide ope-mouthed world slander the guilty,  

not  Not my dead Phoenix, that doth scorn such shame,  

empiring  Empiring honour blots such infamy,  

looks  Looks dart away the blemish of that name;  

my  My thoughts prognosticate thy Lady's pity:  

heart  hearts-ease to thee, this counsel will I give,  

confound  Confound thy foes, but let true lovers live.   

14.  
You are my joy, be not so coy.  

You  You best beloved, you honour of delight,  

are  Are the bright shining Star that I adore,  

my  My eyes like Watchmen gaze within the night,  

joy  joy fills my heart when you do shine before,  

be not  Be not disgrasive to thy friend therefore:  

too  Too glorious are thy looks to entertain  

coy.  Coy thoughts, fell peevish deeds, our base disdain.   

15.  
For you I die, being absent from mine eye.  

For  For all the holy rites that Venus useth,  

you  You I conjure to true obedience:  

I  I offer faith, which no kind heart refuseth,  

die,  Die perjured Envy for thy late offence,  

being  Being enamoured of rich Beauty's pride,  

absent  Absent, I frieze in Winter's pining cold,  

from  From thee I sit, as if thou hadst denied,  

my  My lovesick passions twenty times reto;d:  

eye.  Eye-dazling Mistress, with a look of pity,  
Grace my sad Song, and my hearts pining Ditty.   

16.  
Send me your heart, to ease my smart.  

Send  Send but a glance of amours from thine eye,  

me  Me will it ravish with exceeding pleasure,  

your  Your eyeballs do enwrap my destiny,  

heart  Heart sick with sorrow, sorrow out of measure,  

to  To think upon my loves continual ●olly:  

ease  Ease thou my pain from pities golden treasure;  

my  My grief proceeds from thee, and I suppose  

smart.  Smart of my smart, will my life's blood enclose.   

17.  
Seeing you have mine, let me have thine.  

Seeing  Seeing my passions are so penetrable,  

you  You of all other should be pitiful,  

have  Have mind of me, and you'll be favourable,  

mine  Mine heart doth tell me you are merciful,  

let  Let my hearts love be always violable,  

me  Me have you found in all things dutiful,  

have  Have me in favour, and thyself shalt see,  

thine.  Thine and none others, will I all ways be.   

18.  
Within thy breast, my heart doth rest.  

Within  Within the circuit of a Crystal sphere,  

thy  Thy eyes are placed, and underneath those eyes,  

breast,  Breast of hard flint, ears that do scorn to hear  

my  My days sad groanings, and night waking cries,  

heart  heart sore sick passions, and loves agonies,  

doth  Doth it become thy beauty? no, a stain  

rest.  Rests on thy bright brow wrinkled with disdain.   

19  
O let me hear, from thee my dear.  

O  O tongue thou hast blasphemed thy holy Goddess,  

let  Let me do penance for offending thee,  

me  Me do thou blame for my forgetfulness:  

hear,  Hear my submission, thou wilt succour me:  

from  From thy heart's closet cometh gentleness,  

thee  Thee hath the world admired for clemency,  

my  My heart is sorry, and I'll bite my tongue,  

dear.  Dear that to thee, to thee I offered wrong.   

20.  
My Phoenix rare, is all my care.  

My  My life, my heart, my thoughts, I dedicate,  

Phoenix Phoenix  to thee, Phoenix of all beauty,  

rare,  Rare things in heart of thee I meditate,  

is  Is it not time, I come to show my duty?  

all  All favours unto thee I consecreate,  

my  My goods, my lands, myself, and all is thine,  

care  Care those that list, so thou fair bird be mine.   

21.  
I would I might, be thy delight.  

I  I wish for things, would they might take effect,  

would  Would they might end, and we enjoy our pleasure,  

I  I vow I would not proffered time neglect,  

might,  Might I but gather such unlooked for treasure,  

be  Be all things envious I would the respect,  

thy  Thy favours in my heart I do enroll,  

delight.  Delight matched with delight, doth me control.   

22.  
If I you have, none else I crave.  

If  If adoration ever were created,  

I  I am a Master of that holy Art,  

you  You my advotrix, whom I have admired,  

have,  Have of my true devotion bore a part:  

none  None but yourself may here be nominated,  

else  Else would my tongue my true obedience thwart:  

I  I cannot flatter, Love will not allow it,  

crave.  Crave thou my heart, on thee I will bestow it.   

23.  
Be you to me, as I to thee.  

Be  Be the poor Bee, suck honey from the flower,  

you  You have a spacious odoriferous field,  

to  To taste all moisture, where in sweet Flora's bower▪  

me,  Me shall you find submissively to yield,  

as  As a poor Captive looking for the hour;  

I  I may have gracious looks, else am I killed,  

to  To die by you were l●fe, and yet thy shame,  

thee.  Thee would the wide world hate▪ ●y ●olly blame.   

24.  
You are the first, in whom I trust.  

You  You in your bosom having placed a light,  

are  Are the chief admiral unto my Fleet,  

the  The Lantern for to guide me in the night,  

first,  First to the shore, where I may set my feet  

in  In safeguard, void of Dangers cruel spite,  

whom  Whom in disgrace Love and fell Envy meet,  

I  I muster up my spirits, and they fly;  

trust.  Trust of thy faith controls mine enemy.   

25.  
You are the last my love shall taste.  

You  You standing on the tower of hope and fear,  

are  Are timorous of self-will foolishness,  

the  The only Viper that doth lovelaies tear▪  

last,  Last can it not, 'tis woman's peevishness,  

my  My kind affections can it not forbear,  

love  Love tells me that 'tis bred in idleness,  

shall  Shall such occasion hinder thee or me?  

taste.  Taste first the fruit, and then commend the tree.   

26.  
If you I had, I should be glad.  

If  If the Sun shine, the harvest man is glad,  

you  You are my Sun, my days delight some Queen,  

I  I am your harvest labourer almost mad,  

had,  Had I not my glorious comet seen,  

I  I wish that I might sit within thy shade,  

should  Should I be welcome ere thy beauty fade:  

be  Be not Narcissus, but be always kind,  

glad.  Glad to obtain the thing thou near couldst find.   

27.  
Though place be far, my heart is nar.  

Though  Though thou my Dove from me be separated,  

plac●  Place, nor the distance shall not hinder me,  

be  Be constant for a while, thou mayst be thwarted,  

far,  Far am I not, I'll come to succour thee.  

my  My heart and thine, my sweet shall near be parted,  

heart  Heart made of love, and true simplicity:  

is  Is not Love lawless, full of powerful might?  

nar.  Nar to my heart that still with Love doth fight.   

28.  
My thoughts are dead, cause thou art sped.  

My  My inward Muse can sing of nought but Love,  

thoughts  Thoughts are his Heralds, flying to my breast  

are  Are entertained, if they thence remove,  

dead,  Dead shall their master be, and in unrest;  

cause  Cause all the world thy hatred to reprove,  

thou  Thou art that All-in-all that I love best:  

art  Art thou then cruel? no thou canst not be  

sped.  Sped with so foul a fiend as Cruelty.   

29.  
I send my heart to thee, where gladly I would be.  

I  I of all other am fair Venus' thrall,  

send  Send me but pleasant glances of thine eye,  

my  My soul will leap with joy and dance withal,  

heart  Heart of my heart, and soul's felicity:  

to  To beauty's Queen my heart is sanctified,  

thee.  Thee above all things have I deified.   


Where  Where is Affections? fled to envies cau●?  

gladly  Gladly my Thoughts would bear her company,  

I  I from ●oul● bondage will my Phoenix save,  

would  Would she in love require my courtesy,  

be.  Be loving as thou art fair, else shall I sing,  
Thy beauty a poisonous bitter thing.   

30.  
If you me just have known,  
Then take me for your own.  

If  If you be fair, why should you be unkind?  

you  You have no perfect reason for the s●●e,  

me  Me thinks it were your glory for to find  

just  Just measure at my hands, but you to blame,  

have  Have from the deepest closet of your heart,  

known,  Known my pure thoughts, and yet I pine in smart.   


Then  Then in the deepest measure of pure love,  

take  Take pity on the sad sick pining soul,  

me  Me may you count your unknown Turtle-dove,  

for  For in my bosoms chamber, I enroll  

your  Your deep love-darting eye, and still will be  

own.  Own of your own, despite extremity.   

31.  
My heart I send, to be your friend.  

My  My dear soul's comfort, and my hopes true solace,  

heart  Heart of my heart, and my lives secret joy,  

I  I in conceit do thy sweet self embrace,  

send,  Send cloudy exhalations clean away  

to  To the blind misty North, there for to stay:  

be  Be thou my arbour and my dwelling place,  

your  Your arms the circling folds that shall enclose me,  

friend.  Friend me with this, and thou shalt never lose me.   

32.  
I have no love, but you my Dove.  

I  I pine in sadness, and in sad songs singing  

have  Have spent my time, my ditties harsh and ill,  

no  No sight but thy fair sight would I be seeing:  

love  Love in my bosom keeps his castle still,  

but  But being dissevered I sit always pining,  

you  You do procure me Niobe's cup to fill,  

my  My duty yet remembered I dare prove,  

dove.  Doves have no power for to exchange their Love,   

34.  
I will not change, though some be strange.  

I  I cannot stir one foot from Venus' gate,  

will  Will you come sit, and bear me company?  

not  Not one but you can make me fortunate:  

change  Change when thou wilt, it is but cruelty,  

though  Though unto women it is given by fate,  

some  Some gentle minds these ranging thoughts do hates  

be  Be thou of that mind, else I will conclude,  

strange.  Strange hast thou altered Love, to be so rude.   

Thoughts keep me waking.  

Thoughts  Thoughts like the airy puffing of the wind,  

keep  Keep a sweet feigning in my lovesick breast,  

me  Me still assuring that thou art most kind,  

waking.  Waking in pleasure, sleeping sure in rest:  
That no sleeps dream, nor no waking cries,  
To our sweet loving thoughts, sweet rest denies.   

Seeing that my heart made choice of thee,  
Then frame thyself to comfort me.  

Seeing  Seeing Love is pleased with loves enamoured joys,  

that  That Fortune cannot cross sweet Cupid's will,  

my  My loves content, not with fond wanton toys:  

heart  heart of my heart doth loves unkindness kill,  

made  Made by fond tongues upbraiding hurtful skill:  

choice  Choice now is framed to further all annoys:  

of  Of all sweet thoughts, of all sweet happy rest,  

thee,  Thee have I chose, to make me three times blest.   


Then  Then let our holy true aspiring love,  

frame  Frame us the sweetest music of Desire:  

thy  Thy words shall make true concord, and remove  

self  Self-will itself, for Venus doth require  

to  To be acquainted with thy beauty's fire:  

comfort  Comfort my heart, for comfort tells me this,  

me.  Me hast thou chose of all to be thy bliss.   

My heart is bound to favour thee,  
Then yield in time to pity me.  

My  My Phoenix hath two starre-resembling Eyes,  

heart  Heart full of pity, and her smiling look,  

is  Is of the suns complexion, and replies,  

bound  Bound for performance by fair Venus' book  

to  To faithfulness, which from her nurse she took:  

favour  Favour in her doth spring, in virtuous praise,  

thee,  Thee Eloquence itself shall seek to raise.   


Then  Then in performance of this gracious right,  

yield  Yield up that piteous heart to be my Lover,  

in  In recompense how I have loved thy sight,  

time  Time shall from time to time to thee discover:  

to  To thee is given the power of Cupid's might,  

pity  Pity is writ in gold upon thy heart,  

me.  Me promising to cure a cureless smart.   

I joy to find a constant mind.  

I  I am encompassed round about with joy,  

joy  joy to enjoy my sweet, for she protesteth  

to  To comfort me that languish in annoy,  

find  Find ease if any sorrow me molesteth,  

a  A happy ma● that such a love possesseth:  

constant  Constant in words, and always vows to love me,  

mind.  Mind me she will, but yet she dares not prove me.   

My heart by hope doth live,  
Desire no joy doth give.  

My  My love and dearest life to thee I consecreate,  

heart  Heart of my hearts dear treasure, for I strive  

by  By thy devinenesse too divine to nominate,  

hope  Hope of approved faith in me must thrive:  

doth  Doth not the God of Love that's most divine,  

live.  Live in thy bosoms closet and in mine?   


Desire  Desire to that unspeakable delight,  

no  No sharp conceited wit can near set down,  

joy  joy in the world to worldly men's eyesight,  

doth  Doth but ignoble thy imperial crown:  

give.  Give thou the onset and the foe will fly,  
Amazed at thy great commanding beauty.   

Death shall take my life away,  
Before my friendship shall decay.  

Death  Death that heart-wounding Lord, sweet lovers foe,  

shall  Shall lay his Ebony darts at thy fair feet,  

take  Take them into thy hand and work my woe,  

my  My woe that thy minds anguish will regret:  

life  Life, heart, joy, greeting and all my pleasure,  

away.  Away are gone and fled from my dear treasure.   


Before  Before one stain shall blot thy scarlet dye,  

my  My blood shall like a fountain wash the place,  

friendship  Friendship itself knit with mortality,  

shall  Shall thy immortal blemish quite disgrace:  

decay.  Decay shall all the world, my Love in thee  
Shall live unstained, untouched perpetually.   

Let truth report what heart I bear,  
To her that is my dearest dear.  

Let  Let not foul pale-faced Envy be my foe,  

truth  Truth must declare my spotless loyalty,  

report  Report unto the world shall plainly show  

what  What heart dear Love I always bore to thee,  

heart  heart framed of perfect loves sincerity:  

I  I cannot flatter, this I plainly say,  

bear,  Bear with false words, i'll bear the blame away.   


To  To change in love is a base simple thing,  

her  Her name will be over stained with perjury,  

that  That doth delight in nothing but dissembling?  

is  Is it not shame so for to wrong fair beauty,  

my  My true approved tongue must answer I  

dearest  Dearest beware of this, and learn of me,  

dear.  Dear is that Love combined with Chastity.   

Seen hath the eye, chosen hath the heart:  
Firm is the faith, and loath to depart.  

Seen  Seen in all learned arts is my beloved,  

hath  Hath any one so fair a Love as I?  

the  The stonyhearted savage hath she moved,  

eye,  Eye for her eye tempts blushing chastity,  

chosen  Chosen to make their nine a perfect ten,  

hath  Hath the sweet Muses honoured her again.   


The  The bright-eyed wandering world doth always seek,  

heart,  Heart-curing comfort doth proceed from thee,  

firm  Firm trust, pure thoughts, a mind that's always meek,  

is  Is the true Badge of my loves Sovereignty:  

the  The honour of our age, the only fair,  

faith,  Faith's mistress, and Truth's dear adopted heir.   


And  And those that do behold thy heavenly beauty,  

loath  Loath to forsake thee, spoil themselves with gazing,  

to  To thee all human knees proffer their duty,  

depart.  Depart they will not but with sad amazing:  
To dim their eyesight looking 'gainst the sun,  
Whose hot reflecting beams will near be done.   

No woe so great in love, not being heard,  
No plague so great in love, being long deferred.  

N●  No tongue can tell the world my hearts deep anguish,  

woe  Woe, and the minds great perturbation  

so  So trouble me, that day and night I languish,  

great  Great cares in love seek my destruction:  

in  In all things gracious, saving only this,  

love.  Love is my foe, that I account my bliss.   


Not  Not all the world could proffer me disgrace,  

being  Being maintained fairest fair by thee,  

hard,  Hard-fortune shall thy servant near outface,  

nor  No storms of Discord should discomfort me:  

plague  Plague all the world with frowns my Turtle-dove,  

so  So that thou smile on me and be my love.   


great  Great Mistress, matchless in thy sovereignty,  

in  In lieu and recompense of my affection,  

love  Love me again, this do I beg of thee,  

being  Being bound by Cupid's kind direction:  

long  Long have I sued for grace, yet still I find,  

deferred.  Deferred I am by her that's most unkind.   

And if my love shall be relieved by thee,  
My heart is thine, and so account of me.  

And  And yet a steadfast hope maintains my heart,  

if  If any favour favourably proceed  

my  My dear from thee, the curer of my smart,  

love  Love that easeth minds oppressed with need,  

shall be  Shall be the true Physician of my grief,  

relieved  Relieved alone by thee that yield'st relief.   


by  By all the holy rites that Love adoreth,  

thee,  Thee have I loved above the love of any,  

My  My heart in truth thee always favoureth,  

heart  Heart freed from any one, then freed from many:  

is  Is it not base to change? yea so they say,  

thine  Thine own confession love denies delay.   


and  And by the high imperial seat of Iou●,  

so  So am I forced by Cupid for to swear,  

account  Account I must of thee my Turtle-dove,  

of  Of thee that Times long memory shall outwear:  

me.  Me by thy steadfast truth and faith denying,  
To promise any hope on thee relying.   

My passions are a hell and death to me,  
Unless you feel remorse and pity me.  

My  My sweetest thoughts sweet love to thee I send,  

passions  Passions deeply engrafted, unremovable  

are  Are my affections, and I must commend  

a  A steadfast trust in thee most admirable:  

hell  Hell round enwraps my body by disdain,  

and  And then a heaven if thou love again.   


death  Death haunts me at the heels, yet is afraid,  

to  To touch my bosom, knowing thou lov'st me,  

me,  Me sometimes terrifying by him b●traid,  

unless  Unless sweet helpful succour come from thee:  

you  You well I know, the honour of mine eye,  

feel  Feel some remorseful help in misery.   


remorse  Remorse sits on thy brow triumphantly,  

and  And smiles upon my face with gentle cheer;  

pity  Pity, loves gracious mother dwells in thee,  

me.  Me favouring, abandoning base fear,  
Death is amazed, viewing of thy beauty,  
Thinking thyself perfect eternity.   

My purest love doth none but thee adore,  
My hearty thoughts ar● ' thine, I love no more.  

My  My comfortable sweet approved Mistress,  

poorest  Purest of all the pure that nature framed,  

love  Love in the height of all our happiness,  

doth  Doth tell me that thy virtues are not named:  

none  None can give forth thy constancy approved,  

but  But I that tried thy faith, my best beloved.   


Thee  Thee in the temple of fair Venus' shrine  

adore,  Adore I must, and kneel upon my knee,  

my  My fortunes tell me plain that thou art mine,  

hearty  Hearty in kindness, yielding unto me:  

thoughts  Thoughts the much-great disturbers of our rest  

are  Are fled, and lodge in some unquiet breast.   


Thine  Thine ever unremoved and still kept word,  

I  I pondered oftentimes within my mind:  

love  Love told me that thou never wouldst afford,  

none  None other grace but that which I did find,  

more.  More comfortable did this sound in mine ear,  
Then sweet releasement to a man in fear.   

I do resolve to love no love but thee,  
Therefore be kind, and favour none but me.  

I  I sometime sitting by myself alone,  

do  Do meditate of things that are ensuing,  

resolve  Resolve I do that thou must end my moan,  

to  To strengthen Love if love should be declining.  

love  Love in thy bosom dwells, and tells me still,  

no  No envious storms shall thwart affections will.   


Love  Love hath amazed the world, placed in thy brow,  

but  But yet slavish disdain seeks for to cross  

thee  Thee and myself, that have combined our vow,  

therefore  Therefore that monster cannot work our loss:  

be  Be all the winds of Anger bend to rage,  

kind.  Kind shalt thou find me, thus my heart I gauge.   


and  And from my faith that's unremovable,  

favour  Favour be seated in thy maiden eye,  

none  None can receive it love more acceptable  

but  But I myself, waiting thy pitying mercy:  

me.  Me hast thou made the substance of delight,  
By thy fair sunne-resembling heavenly sight.   

Ah quoth she, but where is true Love?  
Where quoth he? where you and I love.  
I quoth she, were thine like my love.  
Why quoth he, as you love I love.  

Ah  Ah thou imperious high commanding Lord,  

quoth  (Quoth he) to Cupid gentle god of Love,  

he,  He that I honour most will not accord,  

but  But strives against thy justice from above,  

where  Where I have promised faith, my plighted word  

is  Is quite refused with a base reprove:  

true  True loving honour this I only will thee,  

love?  Love thy true love, or else false love will kill me.   


Where  Where shall I find a heart that's free from guile?  

quoth  Quoth Faithfulness, within my lovers breast▪  

he,  He at these pleasing words began to smile,  

where  Where Anguish wrapped his thoughts in much unrest:  

you  You did with pretty tales the time beguile,  

and  And made him in conceited pleasure blest,  

I  I graced the words spoke with so sweet a tongue,  

love,  Love being the holy burden of your song.   


I  I graced your song of Love, but by the way▪  

quoth  (Quoth true Experience,) sit and you shall see,  

she  She will enchant you with her heavenly lay:  

were  Were you framed all of heavenly Policy,  

thine  Thine ears should drink the poison of Delay,  

like  Like as I said, so did it prove to be,  

my  My Mistress beauty graced my Mistress song,  

love.  Love pleased more with her Eyes then with her Tong.   


Why  Why then in deepness of sweet loves delight,  

quoth  Quoth she, the perfect Mistress of Desire,  

he  He that I honour most bard from my sight,  

as  As a bright Lamp kindles Affections fire:  

you  You Magic operations work your spite,  

love  Love to the mountain top of will aspires:  

I  I challenge all in all, and this I sing,  

love.  Love is a holy Saint, a Lord, a King.   

Ah Love, where is thy faith in sweet love?  
Why love where hearts conjoin in true love:  
Why then my heart hopes of thy loves love,  
Else let my heart be plagued with false love.   

Why art thou strange to me my Dear?  
Not strange when as I love my dear:  
But thou esteemest not of thy dear.  
Yes when I know my dearest dear.   

Why is my Love so false to me?  
My love is thine if thou lov'st me:  
Thee I love, else none contents me.  
If thou lov'st me, it not reputes me.   

Ah quoth he, where's faith in sweet love?  
Why quoth she, conjoined in true love.  
Ah quoth he, I hope of thy love:  
Else quoth she, I'll die a false love.   

Ah my Dear, why dost thou kill me?  
No my dear, Love doth not will me.  
Then in thine arme● thou shalt enfold me.  
ay, my dear, there thou shalt hold me:  
And holding me between thine arms,  
I shall embrace sweet lovers Charms.   

Though death from life my body part,  
Yet near the less keep thou my heart.  

Though  Though some men are inconstant, fond, and ●ickle,  

death  Death's as●ie countenance shall not alter me:  

from  From glass they take their substance being brittle▪  

life  Life, Heart, and Hand shall aways favour thee,  

my  My Pen shall write thy virtues registry,  

body  Body conjoined with body, free from strife,  

part,  Part not in sunder till we part our life.   


Yet  Yet my soul's life to my dear life's concluding,  

near  Near let Absurdity that villain, thief,  

the  The monster of our time, men's praise deriding,  

less  Less in perseverance, of small knowledge chief,  

keep  Keep the base Gate to things that are excelling,  

thou  Thou by fair virtues praise mayst yield relief,  

my  My lines are thine, then tell Absurdity,  

heart.  heart of my dear, shall blot his villainy.   

Where hearts agree, no strife can be.  

Where  Where faithfulness unites itself with love,  

hearts  Hearts pined with sorrow cannot disagree:  

agree,  Agree they must of force, for from above  

no  No wind oppressing mischief may we see:  

strife  Strife is quite banished from our company.  

can  Can I be sad? no, Pleasure bids me sing,  

be.  Be blessed, for sweet love's a happy thing.   

Thy vows my love and heart hath won,  
Till thy untruth hath it undone.  

Thy  Thy true unspeakable fidelity.  

vows  Vows made to Cupid and his fair-faced mother,  

my  My thoughts have won to virtuous chastity:  

love  Love thee alone I will, and love none other,  

and  And if thou find not my loves secrecy,  

heart  Heart fagoting thee, then do thou Fancy smother.  

hath  Hath all the world such a true Bird as I,  

won,  Won to this favour by my constancy?   


Till  Till that lean fleshless cripple, pale-faced Death,  

thy  Thy lovely Dove shall pierce with his fell dart,  

untruth  Untruth in my fair bosom near takes breath:  

hath  Hath any love such a firm constant heart?  

it  It is thine own, unless thou keep it still  

undone.  Undone shall I be, clean against my will.   

Time shall tell thee, how well I love thee,  

Time  Time the true proportioner of things,  

shall  Shall in the end show my affection,  

tell  Tell thee from whence all these my passions spring▪  

thee,  thou honouring that of love have made election:  

how  How often I have made my offerings,  

well  Well known to Venus and her lovely son,  

I  I to the wide world shall my passions run:  

love  Love is a Lord of hearts, a great Commander,  

thee.  Thee challenging to be my chief defender.   

Most divine and sacred,  
Have I found your love unspotted.  

Most  Most reverend Mistress honour of mine eye,  

divine  Divine, most holy in religious love,  

and  And Lord itself of my heart's emperil,  

sacred  Sacred in thoughts admitted from above,  

have  Have in remembrance what affection willeth:  

I  ay it revives the mind, and the mind killeth.  

found  Found have I written in your skie-like brow,  

your  Your never ceasing kind humility,  

love  Love for your sake to me hath made a vow,  

unspotted  Unspotted shall I find your constancy,  
And without stain, to thy pure stainless beauty,  
Shall my heart's bosom offer up his duty.   

The want of thee is death to me.  

The  The day shall be all night, and night all day,  

want  Want of the Sun and Moon to give us light,  

of  Of a black darkness, before thy love will stay  

thee  Thee from thy pleasure of thy heart's delight.  

is  Is not Affection nurse to long Delay?  

death  Death's Messenger, that bars me from thy sight?  

to  To be in absence, is to burn in fire,  

me.  Me round enwrapping with hot loves desire.   

I love to be beloved.  

I  I do acknowledge of all constant pure,  

love  Love is my true thoughts herald, and I'll sing  

to  To be of thy thoughts closet, firm and sure,  

be  Be the world still thy virtues deifying:  

beloved.  Beloved of the most, yet most of many,  
Affirm my dear, thou art beloved of any.   

I scorn if I be scorned.  

I  I being not beloved by my affection,  

scorn  Scorn within my thoughts such bad disgrace,  

if  If thou of me do make thy firm election,  

I  I to none other love will give my place:  

be  Be thou my Saint, my bosoms Lord to prove,  

scorned.  Scorned of all, I'll be thy truest love.   

The heart's in pain, that loves in vain.  

The  The grief poor lovers feel being not beloved,  

heart's  Heart's anguish, and sad looks may testify:  

●n  In night they sleep not, and in day perplexed,  

pain,  Pain of this sorrow makes them melancholy,  

that  That in disdain their silly minds are vexed,  

loves  loves terror is so sharp, so strong, so mighty,  

in  In all things unresistible, being alive,  

vain.  Vain he resists that 'gainst loves force doth strive.   

What greater joy can be then this,  
Where love enjoys each lovers wish?  

What  What may we count the world if love were dead?  

greater  Greater in woe, than woe itself can be,  

joy  joy from man's secret bosom being fled,  

can  Cannot but kill the heart immediately,  

be  Because by joy the heart is nourished:  

then  Then entertain sweet love within thy breast,  

this,  This motion in the end will make thee blest.   


Where  Where two hearts are united all in one,  

love  Love like a King, a Lord, a Sovereign,  

enjoys  Enjoys the throne of bliss to sit upon,  

each  Each sad heart craving aid, by Cupid slain:  

lovers  Lovers be merry, Love being dignified,  

wish.  Wish what you will, it shall not be denied.   
Finis. quoth R. Chester.   

HEREAFTER FOLLOW DIVERS Poetical Essays on the former Subject; viz: the Turtle and Phoenix. Done by the best and chiefest of our modern writers, with their names subscribed to their particular works: never before extant. And (now first) consecrated by them all generally, to the love and merit of the true-noble Knight, Sir john Salisbury.  Dignum laud virum Musavetat mori. 
MDCI   

INVOCATIO, Ad Apollinem & Pierides.  

GOod Fate, fair Thespian Deities,  
And thou bright God, whose golden Eyes,  
Serve as a Mirror to the silver Morn,  
When (in the height of Grace) she doth adorn  
Her Crystal presence, and invites  
The ever-youthfull Bromius to delights,  
Sprinkling his suit of V●rt with Pearl,  
And (like a loose enamoured Girl)  
Ingles his cheek; which (waxing red with shame)  
Instincts the senseless Grapes to do the same,  
Till by his sweet reflection fed,  
They gather spirit, and grow discoloured.   

To your high influence we commend  
Our following Labours, and sustend  
Our mutual palms, prepared to gratulate  
An honourable friend: then propagate  
With your illustrate faculties  
Our mental powers; Instruct us how to rise  
In weighty Numbers, well pursued,  
And varied from the Multitude:  
Be lavish once, and plenteously profuse  
Your holy waters, to our thirsty Muse,  
That we may give a Round to him  
In a Castalian bowl, crowned to the brim.   
Vatum Chorus.   

To the worthily honoured Knight Sir john Salisbury.  

NOblest of minds, here do the Muses bring  
Unto your safer judgements taste,  
Pure juice that flowed from the Pierian springs,  
Not filched, nor borrowed, but exhaust  
By the flame-haired Apollo's hand:  
And at his well-obserued command,  
For you infused in our retentive brain,  
●s now distilled thence, through our quills again.   

Value our verse, as you approve the worth;  
And think of what they are create,  
No Mercenary hope did bring them forth,  
They tread not in that servile Gate;  
But a true Zeal, borne in our spirits,  
Responsible to your high Merits,  
And an Invention, freer than the Times,  
These were the Parents to our several Rhymes,  
Wherein Kind, Learned, Envious, all may view,  
That we have writ worthy ourselves and you.   
Vatum Chorus.   

The first.  
THe silver Vault of heaven, hath but one Eye,  
And that's the Sun: the foule-maskt-Ladie, Night  
(Which blots the Clouds, the white Book of the Sky,)  
But one sick Phoebe, fever-shaking Light:  
The heart, one string: so, thus in single turns,  
The world one Phoenix, till another burns.   

The burning.  
suppose here burns this wonder of a breath,  
In righteous flames, and holy-heated fires:  
(Like Music which doth rapt itself to death,  
Sweet'ning the inward room of man's Desires;)  
So she wast's both her wings in p●teous strife;  
" The flame that eats her, seeds the others life:  
Her rare-dead ashes, fill a rare-live urn:  
" One Phoenix borne, another Phoenix burn.  
Ignoto.   


LEt the bird of low dost lay,  
On the sole Arabian tree,  
Herald sad and trumpet be:  
To whose sound chaste wings obey.   

But thou shrieking harbinger,  
Fowl precurrer of the fiend,  
Augour of the fevers end,  
To this troop come thou not near.   

From this Session interdict  
Every foul of tyrant wing,  
Save the Eagle feathered King,  
Keep the obsequy so strict.   

Let the Priest in Surples white,  
That defunctive Music can,  
Be the death-devining Swan,  
Lest the Requiem lack his right.   

And thou treble dated Crow,  
That thy sable gender mak'st,  
With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st,  
'mongst our mourners shalt thou go.   

Here the Anthem doth commence,  
Love and Constancy is dead,  
Phoenix and the Turtle fled,  
In a mutual flame from hence.   

So they loved as love in twain,  
Had the essence but in one,  
Two distincts, Division none,  
Number there in love was slain.   

Heart's remote, yet not asunder;  
Distance and no space was seen,  
Twixt this Turtle and his Queen;  
But in them it were a wonder.   

So between them Love did shine,  
That the Turtle saw his right,  
Flaming in the Phoenix sight;  
Either was the others mine.   

Propertie was thus appalled,  
That the self was not the same:  
Single Natures double name,  
Neither two nor one was called.   

Reason in itself confounded,  
Saw Division grow together,  
To themselves yet either neither,  
Simple were so well compounded▪   

That it cried, how true a twain,  
Seemeth this concordant one,  
Love hath Reason, Reason none,  
If what parts, can so remain.   

Whereupon it made this Throne,  
To the Phoenix and the Dove,  
Co-supremes and stars of Love,  
As Chorus to their Tragic Scene.    

Threnos.  

Beauty, Truth, and Rarity,  
Grace in all simplicity,  
Here enclosed, in cinders lie.   

Death is now the Phoenix nest,  
And the Turtles loyal breast,  
To eternity doth rest.   

Leaving no posterity,  
'twas not their infirmity,  
It was married Chastity.   

Truth may seem, but cannot be,  
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she,  
Truth and Beauty buried be.   

To this urn let those repair,  
That are either true or fair,  
For these dead Birds, sigh a prayer.   
William Shakespeare.   

A narration and description of a most exact wondrous creature, arising out of the Phoenix and Turtle Doves ashes.  
O 'twas a moving Epicedium!  
Can Fire? can Time? can blackest Fate consume  
So rare creation? No; 'tis thwart to sense,  
Corruption quakes to touch such excellence,  
Nature exclaims for justice, justice Fate,  
Ought into nought can never remigrate.  
Then look; for see what glorious issue (brighter  
Than clearest fire, and beyond faith far whiter  
Than Diane's tier) now springs from yonder flame?  
Let me stand numbed with wonder, never came  
So ●●rong amazement on astonished eye  
As this, this measureless pure Rarity.  
Lo now; th'●cracture of divinest Essence▪  
The Soul of heavens laboured Quintessence,  
(Paeans to Phoebus) from dear lover's death,  
Takes sweet creation and all blessing breath.  
What strangeness is't that from the Turtles ashes  
Assumes such form? (whose splendour clearer flashes,  
Then mounted Delius) tell me genuine Muse.  
Now yield your aids, you spirits that infuse  
A sacred rapture, light my weaker eye:  
Raise my invention on swift Fantasy,  
That whilst of this same Metaphysical  
God, Man, nor Woman, but elixed of all  
My labouring thoughts, with strained ardour sing,  
My Muse may mount with an uncommon wing.   

The description of this Perfection.  
DAres then thy too audacious sense  
Presume, define that boundless Ens,  
That amplest thought t●anscendeth?  
O yet vouchsafe my Muse, to greet  
That wondrous rareness, in whose sweet  
All praise begins and endeth.  
Divinest Beauty? that was slightest,  
That adorned this wondrous Brightest,  
Which had nought to be corrupted.  
In this, Perfection had no mean  
To this, Earth's purest was unclean  
Which virtue even instructed.  
By it all Being's decked and stained,  
Ideas that are idly feigned  
Only here subsist invested.  
Dread not to give strained praise at all,  
No speech is Hyperbolical,  
To this perfection blessed.  
Thus close my Rhymes, this all that can be said▪  
This wonder never can be flattered.   

To Perfection.  
A Sonnet.  

OFt have I gazed with astonished eye,  
At monstrous issues of ill shaped birth,  
When I have seen the Midwife to old earth,  
Nature produce most strange deformity▪   

So have I marvelled to observe of late,  
Hard favoured Feminines so scant of fair,  
That Masks so choicely, sheltered of the air,  
As if their beauties were not theirs by fate.   

But who so weak of observation,  
Hath not discerned long since how virtues wanted,  
How parcimoniously the heavens have scanted,  
Our chiefest part of adornation?   

But now I cease to wonder, now I find  
The cause of all our monstrous penny-showes:  
Now I conceit from whence wits scarc'●ie grows,  
Hard favoured features, and defects of mind.  
Nature long time hath stored up virtue, fairness,  
Shaping the rest as foils unto this Rareness.    

Perfectioni Hymnus.  
WHat should I call this creature,  
Which now is grown unto maturity▪  
How should I blaze this feature  
As firm and constant as Eternity?  
Call it Perfection? Fie!  
'tis perfecter than brightest names can light it:  
Call it heavens mirror? I.  
Alas, best attributes can never right it.  
Beauty's resistless thunder?  
All nomination is too strait of sense:  
Deep Contemplations wonder?  
That appellation give this excellence▪  
Within all best confined,  
(Now feebler Genius end thy slighter rhyming)  
No Suburbs 
* Differentia Deorum & hominum (apud Senecam) sic habet nostri melior pars animus in illis nulla p●rs extra animum.  all is Mind  
As far from spot, as possible defining.  
john Marston.   

Peristeros: or the male Turtle.  
NOt like that loose and partie-liuered Sect  
Of idle Lovers, that (as different Lights,  
On coloured subjects, different hews reflect;)  
Change their Affections with their Mistress Sight●,  
That with her Praise, or Dispraise, drown, or float,  
And must be fed with fresh Conceits, and Fashions;  
Never wax cold, but die▪ love not, but dote:  
" (loves fires, stayed judgements blow, not humorous Passions,  
Whose Loves upon their lovers pomp depend,  
And quench as fast as her Eyes sparkle twinkles,  
" (Nought lasts that doth to outward worth contend,  
" All Love in smooth brows born is tombed in wrinkles.)  
But like the consecrated 
* The Turtle.  Bird of love,  
Whose whole life's ●ap to his 
* The Phoenix.  sole-mate alluded,  
Whom no proud flocks of other Fowls could move,  
But in herself all company concluded.  
She was to him th' Analisde World of pleasure,  
Her firmness clothed him in variety;  
Excess of all things, he joyed in her ●●easure,  
Mourned when she mourned, and dirth when she dies▪  
Like him I bound th'instinct of all my powers,  
In her that bounds the Empire of desert,  
And Time nor Change (that all things else devours,  
But truth 〈◊〉 in a constant heart)  
Can change me more from her, than her 〈…〉,  
That is my form▪ and gives my being, sp●rit.  
George Chapman.   

Praeludium.  

WE must sing too? what Subject shall we choose?  
Or whose great Name in Poet's Heaven use▪  
For the more Countenance to our Active Muse?   

Hercules? alas his bones are yet sore,  
With his old earthly Labours; t' exact more  
Of his dull Godhead, were Sin: Le's implore   

Phoebus? No: Tend thy Cart still. Envious Day  
Shall not give out, that we have made thee stay,  
And foundered thy hot Team, to tune our Lay.   

Nor will we beg of thee, Lord of the Vine,  
To raise our spirits with thy conjuring Wine,  
In the green circle of thy ivy twine.   

Pallas, nor thee we call on, Mankind Maid,  
That (at thy birth) mad'st the poor Smith afraid,  
Who with his Axe thy Father's Midwife played.   

Go, cramp dull Mars, light Ven●s, when he snorts,  
Or with thy Tribade Trine, invent new sports,  
Thou, nor their looseness, with our Making sorts.   

Let the old Boy your son ply his old Task,  
Turn the stale Prologue to some painted Mask,  
His Absence in our Verse is all we ask.   

Hermes the cheater, cannot mix with us,  
Though he would steal his sisters Pegasus,  
And rifle him; or pawn his Petasus.   

Nor all the Ladies of the Thespian Lake,  
(Though they were crushed into one form) could make  
A Beauty of that Merit, that should take   

Our Muse up by Commission: No, we bring  
Our own true Fire; Now our Thought takes wing,  
And now an Epode to deep ears we sing.    

Epos.  
" NOt to know Vice at all, and keep true state,  
" Is Virtue; and not Fate:  
" Next to that Virtue, is, to know Vice well,  
" And her black spite expel.  
Which to effect (since no breast is so sure,  
Or safe, but she'll procure  
Some way of entrance) we must plant a guard  
Of Thoughts, to watch and ward  
At th' Eye and Ear, (the Ports unto the Mind;)  
That no strange or unkind  
Object arrive there, but the Heart (our spy)  
Give knowledge instantly.  
To wakeful Reason, our Affections King▪  
Who (in th'examining)  
Will quickly taste the Treason, and commit  
Close, the close cause of it.  
" 'tis the securest Policy we have,  
" To make our Sense our Slave.  
But this fair course is not embraced by many;  
By many? scarce by any:  
For either our Affections do rebel,  
Or else the Sentinel,  
(That shall ring alarm to the Heart) doth sleep,  
Or some great Thought doth keep  
Back the Intelligence, and falsely swears  
They're base, and idle Fears,  
Whereof the loyal Conscience so complains.  
Thus by these subtle trains,  
Do several Passions still invade the Mind,  
And strike our Reason blind:  
Of which usurping rank, some have thought Love  
The first; as prone to move  
Most frequent Tumults, Horrors, and Vnrests,  
In our inflamed breasts.  
But this doth from their cloud of Error grow,  
Which thus we overblow.  
The thing they here call Love, is blind Desire,  
Armed with Bow, Shafts, and Fire▪  
Inconstant like the Sea, of whence 'tis borne,  
Rough, swelling, like a Storm:  
With whom who sails, rides on the surge of Fear▪  
And boils as if he were  
In a continual Tempest. Now true Lou●  
No such effects doth prove:  
That is an Essence most gentile, and fine.  
Pure, perfect; nay divine:  
It is a golden Chain let down from Heaven,  
Whose links are bright, and even  
That falls like Sleep on Lovers; and combines  
The soft and sweetest Minds  
In equal knots: This bears no Brands nor Darts  
To murder different hearts,  
B●t in a calm and Godlike unity,  
Preserves Community.  
O who is he that (in this peace) enjoys  
Th' Elixir of all joys?  
(A Form more fresh then are the Eden bowers,  
And lasting as her flowers:  
Richer than Time, and as Time's Virtue, ●are,  
Sober, as saddest Care,  
A fixed Thought, an Eye untaught to glance;)  
Who (blest with such high chance)  
Would at suggestion of a steep Desire,  
Cast himself from the spire  
Of all his Happiness? But soft: I hear  
Some vicious Fool draw near,  
That cries we dream; and swears, there's no such thing  
As this chaste Love we sing.  
Peace Luxury, thou art like one of those  
Who (being at sea) suppose  
Because they move, the Continent doth so:  
No (Vice) we let thee know,  
Though thy wild Thoughts with Sparrows wings do fly,  
" Turtles can chastened die;  
And yet (in this t'express ourself more clear)  
We do not number here  
Such Spirits as are only continent,  
Because Lust's means are spent:  
Or those, who doubt the common mouth of Fame,  
And for their Place, or Name,  
Cannot so safely sin; Their Chastity  
Is mere Necessity,  
Nor mean we those, whom Vows and Conscience  
Have filled with Abstinence:  
(Though we acknowledge who can so abstain,  
Makes a most blessed gain:  
" He that for love of goodness hateth ill,  
" Is more Crowne-worthy still,  
" Then he which for sins Penalty forbears,  
" His Heart sins, though he fears.)  
But we propose a person like our Dove,  
Graced with a Phoenix love:  
A beauty of that clear and sparkling Light,  
Would make a Day of Night,  
And turn the blackest sorrows to bright joys:  
Whose Odorous breath destroys  
All taste of Bitterness, and makes the Air  
As sweet, as she is fair:  
A Body so harmoniously composed,  
As if Nature disclosed  
All her best Symmetry in that one Feature:  
O, so divine a Creature  
Who could be false too? chiefly when he knows  
How only she bestows  
The wealthy treasure of her Love in him;  
Making his Fortunes swim  
In the full flood of her admired perfection?  
What savage, brute Affection,  
Would not be fearful to offend a Dame  
Of this excelling frame?  
Much more a noble and right generous Mind,  
(To virtuous moods inclined)  
That knows the weight of Gild: He will refrain  
From thoughts of such a strain▪  
And to his Sense object this Sentence ever,  
" Man may securely sin, but safely never.  
Ben: johnson.   

The Phoenix Analysde.  

NOw, after all, let no man  
Receive it 〈◊〉 Fable,  
If a Bird so amiable,  
Do turn into a Woman.   

Or (by our Turtles Augur)  
That Nature's fairest Creature,  
Prove of his Mistress Feature,  
But a bare Type and Figure.    

Ode 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Splendour! O more than mortal,  
For other forms come short all  
Of her illustrate brightness,  
As far as sin's from lightness.   

Her wit as quick, and sprightful  
As fire; and more delightful  
Than the stolen sports of Lovers,  
When night thei● 〈…〉   

judgement (adorned with Learning)  
Doth shine in her discerning,  
Clear as a naked vestal  
Closed in an orb of Crystal.   

Her breath for sweet exceeding  
The Phoenix place of breeding,  
But mixed with sound, transcending  
All Nature of commending.   

Alas: then whither wade I,  
In thought to praise this Lady,  
When seeking her renowning,  
Myself am so near drowning?   

Retire, and say; Her Graces  
Are deeper than their Faces:  
Yet she's nor nice to show them,  
Nor takes she p●ide to know them.   
Ben: johnson.  
FINIS.