A general rehearsal of wars, called Churchyards Choice: wherein is five hundred several services of land and sea as Sieges, Battles, Skirmishes, and Encounters. A thousand Gentle men's names, of the best sort of warriors. A praise and true honour of Soldiers. A proof of perfit Nobility. A trial and first erection of Heralds. A discourse of calamity. And joined to the same some Tragedies & Epitaphs, as many as was necessary for this first book.  
All which works are dedicated to the honourable sir Christopher Hatton knight, advise Chamberlain, captain of the Guard: And one of the queens majesties privy Counsel. Written by Thomas Churchyard Gent.  
1579.  
¶ Imprinted at London by Edward White, dwelling at the little North-door of S. Paul's Church, at the sign of the Gun.   

To the right honourable my most assured friend, sir Christopher Hatton Knight advise chamberlain to the Queen's Majesty, and one of her highness privy Counsel: Thomas Churchyard wisheth as great good Fortune and worldly felicity, as he desireth heavenly blessing.  
IF the ground yield not corn, the Tree bear fruit, the flower keep sent and savour, we hold them as waste, and in a short season forget their former goodness: So friends waxing faint of memory, feeble in duty (and negligent of that becomes them) fall at length out of favour, and loose the blessed benefit of friendship. For the pen, head, or hand, that hath used honest exercises, once lying idle, doth not only purchase suspicion, but also breedeth much misliking, and makes men forgotten, where most they would be remembered. So right honourable, considering these causes, I aught to be occupied in my accustomed manner of writing, lest that time and sloth (the corrupter and cankerer of good conditions) wear me clean out of credit and compel me to forethink the idleness I have used. Yea, albeit the matter be but barren, I seek to bring forth, yet a dutiful well willer, aught to be doing the best in his power, that the best may be taken, and gathered of the good will, that still hath a desire to bring forth some acceptable fruit. And truly though my senses are simple, to sift and search out such matter, as were meet for the parsonage, to whom this is offered. Yet I can not want good store and copy of causes to writ of in this crooked age, where no one thing is straight and upright but a noble mind, that neither stoops to the mutability of fortune, nor boweth down to the wickedness of this wayward world: To treat of the which (under correction) I have a great desire. For the common people have clapped on such new Natures, and are so finely transformed, from the old fashion of goodness, as a perfit just man is as hard to find among them, as a Phoenix out of Arabia. Yet was there never more curiosity of words, nor less constancy in deeds: for now is he accounted no body, that can not deceive a multitude. And the more finelier he can behave himself, the more affection is borne him, so that the plain meaning is overmatched with the cunning conveyance of muffled mischief. And the outward show of simplicity, disceives the inward judgement so much, that the subtle Fox goes unspied, and the simple Sheep is led to the slaughter. For with artificial courtesy, and double dissembled countenance, plain people are carried from themselves, and made the bond slaves of those wolves, that privily devours them. The little Ants runs not so fast out of the Moule hill, as the fawners with flattery follows their heels, that they mind to over reach, and wrist to their profit: And who is so diligent as the deceiver, and so ready to attend & wait, as the wily worldling. Who first can fish out men's manners & inclinations, and after feed their humours, according to their infirmities. And in deed these crafty men pleasers, have more mind of Mammon then of God, of vanity then of virtue. For like vices on a stage they serve in a State, and help to fill out a bore matter with a bad laughter. These are the wiely Spannyels of the world, that can not be beaten from the heel's of nobility. These are the turning weather cocks, that seldom standeth stil. And these are the cunning Clerks, who never came in university, and yet are fine masters of Art. And who licketh up the crumbs, that falleth from the table of good fortune: but these whining whelps, that privily can bite and openly can faun. For the dissembler gets more by doubleness, then by plain dealing, & more by good luck, then by good manners. As some of the Sages affirm, that cunning creeps always in favour. And blind affection is the only father, that begets the children of good chance, and brings the favoured to preferment. And all the rest are but bastards of beggary, begotten out of season, & borne in haste. Which babes for want of blessing, are become wanderers of this world, pilgrims of the earth, and blossoms of a blasted tree. But the grave and wise hold opinion, a man may as well seek to climb to the clouds, as come by commodity till the cause and ground of all goodness, call him to the dole, and deal him an alms. For neither shift nor snatching will help, where portions are divided (and lotted out) to the pleasure of the giver. In plenty he tumbleth that is preferred to any place or benefit by this celestial order, and appointment of the almighty. But some shrewd searchers of secrets, hold opinion that Satan is princeps mundi: and the muck of this mould undeservedly, falls in their laps, that lest is thought worthy of so great abundance. And the poor are the personages, that in the other world (for their patience here) shallbe placed beyond our common expectation. It may be most likely: For rich's is a ready instrument, and a pleasant pipe to make men dance after the devels Tqabor. And poverty is the perfit path to lead men to felicity. Yet there needs no argument to decipher the one from the other: For in both estates a man may do well, but the rich hath better mean to do good than the poor. If those that are fleeting in the flood of good fortune, look backward on the little brooks, that feeds the Sea with water, and follows the tides by continual recourse, the only cause of the swelling of the Seas, and pride of the streams. For, if every small spring were stopped, each large River kept in, and all kind of Fountains restrained from their course, a second Sea would be seen on the land, or the fullness of the first would begin to decline. So that the repair of people to any place, procures vain glory, lofty looks, ambitious minds, and maintaineth much pomp, and such as withdraw themselves from wilful servitude, neither flatter their own judgements to far, nor fills up the flood to fast. There is no more to be said, but in this worldly Theatre, every man plays one part or other, that either is worthy rebuke, or merit's commendation. O that men knew what gay garland, is gotten by the goodness of virtue, than the inferior sort would not strive & wrestle, to put on the wretched wreath of vice. For as right renown is the true reward of well doing: So open reproach follows, as a shadow the body, that is ready to do harm. The good that is done among the thankful, is not only redoubled again with good will: but like wise linketh in a chain of love, the hearts of those that receives it. And they are privy rich, that can by bounty purchase many debtors, deserve many blessings, and make many people be beholding unto them. A number of glozing and glorious worldlings, that by brags of bounty, offer good turns to saell, with a sign and show that they may be bought for a little or nothing: but on a sudden they rather look who can do them good, then remember to whom they have offered the saell, and commodity of their ambergris. Such fine fellows and petty foggers, are the froth and scum of the sea, that welters with the waves: and not the Honey and Cream of the earth, that aught to be preciously made of. And lo for a proof of praise such yonkers can promise more in an hour, than they mind to perform all their life time, thinking with bore words, to win friends and followers, where naked works of Nature nourisheth nothing, but hollowness of heart. For proof and example thereof, let the thirsty look for drink, and find his hope deceived (at the well head of comfort) he flings away his bottle, beats his breast with repentance, & falls in misliking for ever, or seeks some other fair fountain, to cool and quench the flaming furnays of the stomach. another sort there are (but no great number) which without boast, brag, or business, are glad to find an occasion to pleasure their friend, by word, deed, travail, or charges: And these are the Salt of the world, that seasoneth the life of man with sweet savour, and giveth good taste at the death to the soul before God. There is no one man so mighty, so strong, valiant, or wise, but needs the aid of an other, and happy are the hands, head, and body, from whom help proceedeth. It breedeth merry thoughts, causeth sweet sleeps, shaketh of displeasure, to work a common commodity, or a private benefit, which goodness and noble Nature, is in some that I know. But for fear of falling into a kind of adulation therein (nor in the discourse of the world) I go no farther, confessing that who soever listeth to writ, hath copy and store of matter enough to treat upon, when willing mind leads the pen, and honest judgement shall skilfully scan the manners of men, their sundry inclinations, their qualities and callings, and the disposition of the world. And for that my capacity reacheth not far, and discoursing of great things, may bring my small knowledge out of compass. I have bent my study to treat of common causes, as familiar with the wise & learned in these our days, as weakest fancies in other seasons hath been with the ignorant people embraced. And because many writers have but slightly touched (both in Chronicle and otherwise) the affairs of war, the honour of Soldiers, the cause and beginning of Nobility, the erection of Heralds, the names of Gentlemen that well have deserved: the goodness that Calamity bringeth, and the fame that noble life attaineth unto. I have taken this troublous task in hand, not only to work truly, for the daily hire that good report giveth, but to show plainly my honest meaning (in the things named) that both labour and long study hath brought me too. Not thinking but your honourable insight, and acquaintance with these matters, needs none of my discourses: but because I promised in the book of my Chip's (a matter unfit for your honour to look on) to present an other work, which hath been long of coming out, and I fear is over simple with all this great laisure, to merit thanks. Notwithstanding, the pains hath been great, and desire to do well not little: yet the bareness of the words and weakness of the matter, I dread will either loose my thanks, or drive me in disgrace. And yet I might say that the matter (now presented, though not well written) may claim a great consideration, and merits as much favour, as any thing that ever passed from my pen. The judgement whereof, can not escape the compass of your honourable knowledge, and albeit that with divers devices and books dedicated, to sundry good and great personages, I have wandered a while) after the favour of this world, and the good Fortune, that diligence might have brought: yet now wearied with overmutche labour in gadding about, for the purchasing of friendship (hardly to be gotten, and as dangerous to be kept) am driven to retire to my first Fortress and hold, where help is to be had, and succour is to be sought, because my second practice neither purchased preferment, nor paid for the pains and paper, that I think well bestowed. And though verily some think, that good turns comes rather (in general cases) by Fortune, affection, or favour, then by diligence, study, or desert, I a dress my last works, where I trust a noble mind shallbe judge of my labours, and so further my hap and favour in the world, that no hateful Fortune, nor people shall hinder my hope. Thus hoping the works, by help of your protection presented, shall have as many favourers as readers, and no more readers (that mislikes the matter) then liketh to writ an other discourse as well meant. I shadow myself under the shield of your honour, so dwelling in that safety & staidness of mind (which is a beauty to hoary hears) I wish you what best can be imagined, of honour, wealth, knowledge, credit, and worldly felicity. Praying with all, that the blessed dew of heaven, multiply and keep moist the manifold graces, of your well disposed mind. From my lodging the xv. of October. 1579.  
Thomas Churchyard in all that he may, at your honourable commandment.   

To the friendly reader.  
AS it is a thing sufferable, and daily seen, that each man favours those personages, whose nature, quality, or condition agreeth together, so I hope (albeit I am but a small Soldier, I may boldly writ of Martial affairs, and men of war, without disliking of any: because such matter or men, are fittest for my pen to be honoured withal, and nearest the compass of my knowledge, and profession. Yet albeit that some of the malicious sort, do marvel at my boldness herein, I let them babble, and answer the quiet people of mild and sound judgement, that I think the best time I can bestow, is to further the fame of the honest, next to the prefarment of my country's commendation. And that before all other things (except the honouring of Prince and public state) a true writer aught of duty, to have in admiration and reverence, the valiant Soldiers, and men of worthy value. For thereby the best are known, and reap the reward of well doing: and the worst will blush, in the beholding of the virtues of other, when the burden of their own vices condemneth them, as idle drones of the common wealth. And surely in mine opinion, the next way to make a number of meet members (to the state we devil in) is to give them that deserve, as much renown as can be clapped on their shoulders: and follow with infamy the base minded fellow so far, that he shall scarcely know, in what soil he may hide his head. The noble Romans in the time of their greatness of courage and conquests, were registered not only in golden books and monuments: but also were made in a manner half gods, and more than men in any kind of condition, or respect.  
The Lacedæmonians, Athenians (and other nations, a number did strive so by virtue, one to excel an other) that the whole world to this day, doth ring of their glory. And happy was he in those days, that either deserved well himself, or might find by fine invention and just cause good matter, to advance any one of singular learning or manhood. But now every man is so covetous, and greedy of fame for his own works, that few or none can spare any dram or spark of credit to an others praise and good report: by which general ambition, and naughtiness of nature, all good studies and noble enterprises, are drowned in disdain, and little or nothing is suffered to flourish, but that which Fortune preferreth, or the fond affection of a multitude will commend. A custom so perilous and cankered, that I fear will rust, and corrupt all good sciences, and bring in oblivion, better matter than I speak of, or can be remembered. Yet some hope is left to the wise and well doer, because the honest and rieppest men of judgement, are glad to embrace and welcome the labours of well disposed people, and painful exercises of the learned. But now to what end make I this flourish, and recital of abuse in any: since I want power to reform any one person, envious of others reputation. Wherefore, without further recital of needless causes, I will follow the substance of the matter, here intended to be written of, requiring the readers to admit, I praised themselves (if any be praise worthy) for some warlike exercises, in the which conceit of theirs they will be the better contented, to bear with the commendation of others. For if every one were a Soldier in deed, that readeth this volume, I know but a few would be angry, to hear of their own glory and deservings. Thus committing this discourse, to the judgement of the wise, I commend you to the Almighty. And fall to my matter.  
FINIS.   

Churchyards Choice.  
IN the renowned reign of that noble prince King Henry the eight, whose famous memory, shall last whiles this world standeth: All Chivalry was cherished, Soldiers made of, and manhood so much esteemed, that he was thought happy and most valiant, that sought credit by the exercises of Arms, and discipline of war. Which did so animate the noble minds of men, that in a manner he was counted no body, that had not been known to be at some valiant enterprise. And every simple subject, was given to the advaunsement of his Country. As the burning of Treporte, the winning of Tornay, Bulloyne, and sundry other places doth manifestly declare. The journeys into Scotland and victories there, would weary you to read of, and beareth yet record, what great honour was in our king, and courage in our people. So that in this fortunate season, the whole world did resound of our worthiness, and forward desire of service. And then began M. Nicholas Malbie to favour the war, and take therein such pains and delight, that in King Edward the sixth his days, the first year of his reign, master Nicholas Malbie was at Gines, a Clerk of the victuals, in a reasonable good credit under Master Wauller, than a special officer. And the second year he was a light horseman, under captain Crayer, in the service of the French King, where was much service at that present. And in this time there was a practice for the taking of Arras, which the noble men of France had devised in this sort: The nobility put themselves in Peisauntes' apparel, colourably to become prisoners to the English horsemen: And so marched a foot, toward the gates of Arras, as though the English horsemen of the emperors side, had brought in certain prisoners from the French, but one Peter Androwes, a false traitor to the English serving in France, being made privy to this practice, disclosed the matter to the Burgonions, before Mounsire Vandivill of Graveline, whereupon a great number issued out of the town, and so a hot skirmish was begun and ended, to the great loss of the Burgonions side, and so the French disappointed of their purpose, retired away. From thence captain Crayer and his company, were commanded to Hedding, where they took diverse great booties, and made many spoils, to the great benefit of all the English horsemen. I had forgotten how that the Duke de Vandome, before these exploits entered the low Country with an army, and about Bottes Bulwark, and other parts near unto Saint Homer's did great harm, which I saw being then a soldier on the Emperor's side, and under Mounsire de Rues grand master of Flaunders. And after that Hedding was besieged by Mounsire de Rues, and won in a short space, at which service was captain Matson, M. Richard Bingham, William Hind, and one captain Plonket, with a number of other gentlemen not here named. And at the winning of Torwain, these Englishmen that served the Emperor were in like sort. From Hedding captain Crayer with his band, were sent three leagues further into the frontiers, to a place called Farsine, which borders upon the County of S. Poule, where there was a Castle of the Emperors called County, in the which was a band of footmen, and an other of horsemen, who daily skirmished with the English horsemen, but always the loss returned to the Burgonions side: and captain Crayers band got great honour, in so much that the borders where the englishmen served, stood in as good security, as though a number of other bands had been there, to have aided the English horsemen. In deed there were such soldiers in captain Crayers band (the Malbies being as then ring leaders among them) as hath not been seen serving any where at that season, for so small a company, and so great value of courage and conduct. From this place this band was placed in garrison at Mottrell (where mounsire Vilboun was governor) at which town the two brethren desired the leading of xxiv. of that band, and went with them twelve leagues into the Burgonion Pale, to a rich village called Drues, and spoiled the same of all their cattle and riches, and brought away from thence eight rich prisoners, and at the request of the Soldiers in Mottrell, those prisoners were given to Mounsire Bilbo, to purchase his favour, because he seemed to be angry, for the burning of the Abbey of S. Poule, and the Friar house there. Now at the same time when this booty was gotten, and brought into Motterell, they made open sale of the prey in the Market place, and the soldiers being of the old garrison in the Town, bloshing at the boldness of the englishmen, and disdaining their well doing, (that were not of their own nation) immediately began to spoil the booty Masters, and by force thought to have reaped the labours of others, that better deserved. Whereupon the Scottishemen of Arms, assembled in the Market place, and taking the English men's part, demanded wherefore that outrage was committed, and said, they would not suffer such a folly to go unrevenged: For the which cause, and encouraging of good men, Mounsire Bilbo took order in the matter, committing one of them that made the spoil, to pass the shot of the Harquebus without mercy, notwithstanding the two brethren (seeing that Mounsire Bilbo favoured so much law of Arms, and discipline of war) made suit for the pardon of the offender, by which suit and courtesy of theirs, they conquered and obtained the love of all the French soldiers, which amity after did them as great pleasure, as their present pity, was a thing to be liked. For when the englishmen went to any service, the French would strive to see who could be favoured most to go in their company. Such force and virtue hath mercy, and gentleness to lead the hearts of people every where, either toward service, or any other hazard, or worthy action, that the remembrance of mercy may reach into, and consider of.  
The English being commanded then, to lie in the borders of Picardy of season (at their own discretion, and the Country's charge) were after sent to Bohayn, and put there in garrison, where was a captain called captain Hearing, with a valiant band of Gascons, which joined with the Englishmen, and made many journeys and roads together into the Burgonion Pale: spoiling the Country, and putting the Burgonions sundry times to the worse, and endamaged the country so much, and so often, that the poor people complained to the Emperor, of their Burgonion captains being many in number, did suffer a few of their adversaries to distress the whole Frontiers. Whereupon Mounsire de Fammey than captain of Laundersey (seeing the Emperor moved with this incursion) began to practise by all the means he might, to overthrow the English band, either by policy or Treason, and finding a guide that always had the leading of the English, when they went about a booty, Mounsire de Fammey infected this guide with a few Crowns, to betray his company, and in the mean while, against the day appointed, Defammey had prepared and made ready a thousand horse, and diverse bands of footmen, to entrap the English soldiers of Bohain. The day of this practice and murder approaching, and all thing in readiness, the Burgonions to lie in wait, and the English to issue: there fell a debate and quarrel between two englishmen (the one called Tuttell, and the other Cheaston) which falling out, hindered their going to horse, and detracted time, in so much this traitorous guide could not at the hour appointed, bring forth the englishmen, nor answer the expectation of the Burgonions, and so the captain of Laundersey mistrusting the guide had deceived him, broke suddenly into the country, and fell to spoil, and to follow their most advantage for the season, and being many in number, did much hurt about Gwyes, before the small power there might make any head towards their enemies, but in conclusion, the English band (though but a few of them, were at that present at Bohayn) with the help of captain Hearing, (a valiant man and leader of the Gascons) set upon the Burgonions, and at the first encounter overthrew so many Burgonions, that the residue fled, and made shift for themselves, at which on set and courageous charge, master Nicholas Maelbie was sore hurt through both the sides, and one John Day and he being by service drawn from their company, in a dangerous place and plight, they took great care how to recover their people, and in the end to escape the hazard, John Day carried master Malbie on his back, till a horseman by chance happened to come, and comfort them both. Mounsire Deffammey by means of a blow that Ned Driver had given him on the head piece, was feign to keep his Beaver down a long season, and tarried all a whole night in a wood the mean while.  
A none after this bickering, the French king made a Proclamation, that all his Garrisons should repair unto Reins in Schampanie, at which time there was a secret speech of battle, between the Emperor and the French king, for the which cause all the bands and garrisons that might be made, with great expedition repaired to the place appointed for the fight. And being assembled together, they encamped, and so the French king marched towards Meats in Lorraine, where he used such policy and fair speech, that he wan the town (without bloodshed) took the Duke of Lorraine, and sent him safely into France. And from Meats the king marched unto Speeres in Almaignie, where he had a certain mass of money. And so to Stroseborough, the king giving order that the English horsemen (and others that served as vaunt couriers) should ride about the country, and spoil what they thought good. Master Nicholas Malbie being left at saint Quintaines, to be healed of his hurt as you have heard: had his brother John Malbie in the camp with the French king, who joined an other gentleman unto him called George Liell, and they two seeking adventures, met two gentlemen Almains, well mounted and appointed, but the two English men charged them, and took them prisoners, and possessed their Borespeares', and other weapons of war. But George Liell having somewhat to amend, delivered his prisoner his boarspear to hold, because he could not himself amend his things, and hold his boarspear at that instant, the prisoner seeing his advantage, thrust the boarspear under the armour of George lyel, and so slew him, he giving his last gasp and woeful cry, made master John Malbie look behind him, who finding his fellow dead, ran hastily on the Almain, and in that charge slew him, and so forthwith set upon the other prisoner with like determination, the other Almain fell on his knees and asked mercy, upon which submission he was saved, and led away by John Malbie, where other englishmen attended to hear some news. And hearing of this strange case, they altogether repaired where the two dead bodies were, and buried them both, as the time and place did permit.  
The French King marching from Stroseborough, came to a strong town called Domuiell, which the King besieged, and the assault being ready to be given, the captain of the said town came, and rendered it to the kings hands▪ in which town was left a sufficient Garrison. And the Camp retired for that year, and broke up at Reins in Schampaine, where the king paid his army for five Months, and those he kept in wages, were commanded to lie in Garrisons, the English band was appointed to remain at Abontton, five leagues from Gwies, to which place was now Master Nicholas Malbie come, and there the two brothers showed such courtesy to a gentleman of Yorkshire, as is worthy the remembrance, and seldom hath been seen in a strange land, and hard season. At Abantton were many honest and valiant soldiers English gentlemen, as master james Crues, Nedde Driver, Humphrey Blont, and a number of others that accompanied the two brethren. Whose names I would gladly show, because those gentlemen did such service in those days, (and beyond the seas) as they deserve to be honoured for the same in their own Country whiles the world lasteth, but having forgot most of their names, I proceed to my former matter. From Abantton the English band were commanded to lie at saint Quintains, where lying but a season, they were employed for the furnishing of a ronning Camp, appointed to march into the County of Saint Poule, and in this exploit Saint Poule was burnt, and spoiled, and many villages there abouts brought to utter ruin and mischief.  
The Emperor to revenge these injuries, sent into France an other running Camp, entering at Nova Chatteau, and did much hurt in many places, albeit the englishmen were so often in the skirts of the Burgonions, that they could not do many times what they intended, they were by the englishmen kept so well occupied, and daily waited on. The Burgonions being thus nettled and vexed (by a few in comparison of their great number) began politicly to work, and so laid an ambushment, to entrap captain Crayer and his band, and placing fifty spaniards all horsed upon gallant Jennets, to break upon the English horsemen. It came to pass by occasion of service, that suddenly they broke on captain Crayer, who wheeling about for his most succour, had not his horse so ready, as he was disposed to turn him, and there withal his horse stumbled, and fell flat on the earth, in which fall captain Crayer was taken, and the residue of the enemies retired towards their ambush, which lay a league from the place, where captain Crayer was taken. And yet upon advisemeante, (and hope of good hap to be gotten, by some hazard presently offered,) the Englishmen grew so warm, that they had the enemy in chase, and in the end the broil and business began to be so hot, that both sides were Pell Mell. John Malbie being in a Swarffe rotters garment girded on his armour, was taken to be one of the Spaniards own troop, and knowing himself not far from the English company, he plucked out of a Spaniards hands, the rains of his horse's bridle, and carried him over the Brook perforce, where was one of the English band, that challenged half of the booty, and strove so for that was not his own, that the prisoner lost his life in the pleading of the matter. Which prisoner had he been void of that brabble, might have paid a good and reasonable ransom.  
Now on the taking of captain Crayer, was captain Clavers his lieutenant made leader of fifty horsemen, and he chose master Nicholas Malbie his lieutenant, upon the erection of which band, or immediately after the Emperor besieged Hedding, and captain Clavers band being commanded to keep upon the Frontiers, happened upon the Prince of Oranges band (which had been in the country spoiling as they might) and finding the Prince of Oranges band in a manner tired, set on them so courageously, that they gave them the chase, where was thirty or forty prisoners taken, and master Nicholas Malbie took a gentleman of the Prince's chamber, and M. John Savage took another of the Prince of Oranges troop, which were well used, and suffered on their faith to go where they would, showing themselves at night to their taker. But two of the worst of those prisoners stole away, and their fellow had been like to have been straightly handled thereupon, but favour was found, and he sent by a Trumpet to the emperors Camp for all their ransoms which was but quarterage (a courtesy then used among Soldiers) and so soon as the Prince's gentleman came before the Prince, he complained of his companions, for breaking of their faith: for which cause a post was presently set up, and the prisoners lost both their ears on the same post, and after they were banished the Camp for ever. The Prince paid all their ransoms, and giving a reward of ten crowns to the Praetor, sent him safely away in like sort.  
At the siege of Hedding captain Clavers was taken prisoner, and master Nicholas Malbie had the leading of all his men, and having occasion to ride to Paris, he let his charge to his brother John till he returned: His brother as desirous of fame as any other (after he and his band lay awhile at Braie upon some ingarrison) made many roads into the Burgonion pale, and committed great spoils. Which the captain of Beawpawlme sought to revenge.  
And upon a Sondaie at Mass time in the morning, he broke into the Frontiers with a great troop of horsemen, and took a great booty from the town that the englishmen lay in, whereon there was a alarm, that every man in all haste mounted to horse, and followed the enemies in such a fury, that in rescuing one of their own people, the enemies were between some of the English band and the town, but John Malbie and an other were in greatest hazard, for they two having taken two prisoners, were feign to pluck the bridles over the horses heads, pricking the horses in the buttocks, to the end the enemies might be occupied, about the recovery of their own men. And when the prisoners were let go in this manner, they ventured through the troop of the enemies, offering their Pistols from one to an other, till they had passed through the thickest and at the last slew one, and overthrew an other, and took the third prisoner, and brought him horse and man into the town. The towns men and nobility (among the which was captain Gordant now captain of Calais) beholding this boldness, advertised the French king of the service, who rewarded at the next pay day John Malbie, with a good sum of money. For that a king would not forget such an act, nor let such service escape unrecompensed.  
The next Sondaie (after this business rehearsed) the captain Beauppawm came again with a troop of five hundredth horsemen, and a regiment of three thousand footmen. And to encounter them marched fifty English horsemen, and as many others of the Albanoys (which served before at Bulleyn) with a few gentlemen of France, putting themselves in good order as near as they could, under the succour of the great ordinance of the town. So being abroad the skirmish began to be so hot, that no one of the Garrison returned to the town, without his Lance broken. And the Albanoys band served so valiantly, that each of them broke two staves upon the enemies, in which hazard and courageous service, their lieutenant was taken prisoner. But an Englisheman called William Spencer, serving in the Albanoys band, beholding his lieutenant taken, cried a charge, a charge, and therewith all slew in among his adversaries so furiously, and fought with such courage and manhood, that he set the lieutenant at liberty, and so recovered the town. And at that time was taken five horsemen Burgonions, and brought to the town, and one horseman was taken away prisoner, and brought to Beuppaum.  
That day captain Twettie desired John Malbie, to go with him into the field a foot, and they having but ten Pikes, and one and twenty shot, withstood fifty horsemen, and slew diverse of them, the Scots men beholding that service, gave all the honour of that day to the English nation.  
At that service was a worthy captain called Gurdan, before spoken of, whose band and himself, surmounted the rest in the field, and came with great glory to the town.  
Now the whole company that served in that piece, assembled themselves together and devised, how to revenge the injuries at two several seasons, offered to them by the Burgonions: and concluded that all the Garrisons near them on the Frontiers, should meet at a day appointed, for the scaling of Bauppaum on the sudden. And in the mean while John Malbie went towards Bauppaum with the English band, and took with him thirty or forty pound of matches, which was tied upon cords and lines twenty fathom long, and every manche half a yard a sunder, and for every line was two stakes prepared breast high, to be set in the ground when the matches were a fire. The night being dark, and the matches being espied (after they were pitched) of the Soldiers in Baupaum they took alarm, and the Englishmen that devised this mockery, cried scale the walls, and so privily stole away, but they within the town of Bauppaum bend all their ordinance upon the matches, and shot at them all the night after, pliing the matches with small shot in like sort, which was a great madness and folly, as they themselves confessed. When they day appeared and made them judges of their own oversight and matter mistaken.  
In the neck of this, but three nights after they came in deed, with their whole garrisons upon the Frontier, and brought Lathers for to scale the walls, and approached near the town for that purpose in a very dark night, and in passing good order, but the Ladders being set to the walls, as secretly as might be devised, they were feign to withdraw them again, because they were to short, and the 'noys that the Ladders made awakened the watch, and thereon a terrible alarm began in the town which had been taken, if the Ladders had been long enough. For they that came to surprise it, were fifteen thousand footmen, and two thousand horsemen well and thoroughly furnished, for a noble enterprise.  
Which power disappointed of their purpose, entered the country, burning and spoiling as much as they might every way, for the space of a whole day, and then every one retired to their garrisons, from whence they repaired before.  
And within a short season after, the Emperor besieged met in Lorraine with a great army, the French king on that news sent many bands thither, among the which the English band was placed twelve leagues from met, where they daily annoyed their enemies, and sundry times took many, prisoners and spoiled the Foreigners horses, and other necessaries very often, and grew so rich by the ransoms and spoils they had gotten, that their enemies laid many a staille and trap to take them in, but that prevailed not. For their Fortune and courage brought them through many dangers, and made them as much feared, as their were spoken of, and more spoken of, than ten times so great a company.  
The siege of met continued about a whole year, and it was thought that there lay before the Town six score thousand men in pay, among which number was such mortality and Plague, that it was a wonder to rehearse it. For they died sometimes two thousand a day, by which mischief and misery, the Emperor raised his Camp, and yet was feign to leave in cabbens sick behind him, twelve or thirteen thousand Almains, which could not march away. The Duke of Gwies being general of the Town, seeing those poor Soldiers left to the mercy of God, or murder that man list to commit, thought it not fit to put them to the sword. And so upon advice and suit of their general they were relieved, and as many as lived, were sent home without ransom: which courtesy of the Duke of Gwise, was well remembered and requited ten years after this. For some say that those Almains serving the Prince of Condie, at the battle of Drues, when they saw the Gwise, they cast down their Pikes, keeping their promised vow, which was never to bear arms in field against him: that had saved their lives, and done them so great a good turn at met.  
The siege of met being raised, as you have heard, the English band was commanded to lie in Picardy, where the Duke of Vandome was lieutenant, who heard that the Emperor was coming towards Amiance with a puissant power, and to encounter him the Duke raised as many soldiers as he might, and so kept the Frontiers till the emperors power came, and showed themselves with in two leagues of the City of Amiance: then great was the Alarm, and every man to horse, and a marvelous brave company issued out of the town to give battle, and try the uttermost of Fortune. And so well they agreed together, and were so gallantly disposed, that one of them swore to an other, never to depart without blood, nor never to return again into the town, without doing of some exploit. The Emperors power were in like disposion, and so the Trumpets on both sides sounded, as heaven and earth should have joined together. Then the English band provoked the skirmish, and so the bloody broil began hotter and hotter, in so much that the horsemen joined, and came to hand strokes, where many a Lance was broken, and many a man lay grovelling on the ground, some under their horses, and some stricken from their horses backs, such was the terror of the time and fury of the fight. And Mounsire Dangwion brother to the Duke Vandome lost no time, but charged Mounsire Benyngcourtes band, or Mounsire Derues his company. The Prince of Condie and Duke D'onmall charged on the Duke Deaskot and Mounsire Demberies' bands, and withal came in the residue of the French and Burgonion companies, and stood so manfully to their business, that the conflict on both sides was great, and the victory hanged long in balance, in so much it was doubtful to whether party good Fortune would fall, but in fine the Burgonions fled towards the wood, where all their force of footmen stood, and in that encounter and bloody fight, the Prince of Pianoyes was smored to death in his armour, the Duke of Askotte compelled to creep, and lie in a wood all night, where the Peasants on the morrow took him, and fifteen hundredth prisoners more were led away with the Duke by the frenchmen. And when the view was made at their return to Amiance of their loss, the frenchmen miss many of their own people (especily of the City) and many by mean of their valiancy, were come home sore wounded, mangled, and out of hope to live any long season, the fight had been so dangerous and cruel, that few which were desirous of fame, escaped scotfree from the conflict.  
The Emperor not long after this broil, gathered his people together, and came to Vallencian with a great army: but the French king gathered in a manner such a multitude of soldiers (wherein was much Nobility) that it was guessed his Camp was at the least fifty thousand horsemen and footmen, and himself in person nobly mounted, marched towards Valencian, where he found the Emperor entrenched, and passing before the Emperor with his vaward (wherein was six thousand horsemen, and twenty thousand footmen) the French king presented the Emperor battle, who had out of his trench certain Spanish and Italian horsemen, with a small troop of Lances, on the which company the frenchmen offered skirmish, and the skirmish grew so hot, that a charge was given, wherein was prisoners taken at the very entry of the trenches, so that the Emperors power being not twenty thousand, were feign to tarry in their Trenches all that season.  
The French king seeing this, and coming from his main battle on a barbed horse, with a goodly troop of brave gentlemen, made no more a do, but showed himself in the field, and marched so away, making his vaward his rearward, and his main battle his vaward, yet I may not forget that sundry in his company were hurt, among the which M. Nicholas Malbies' horse (a bastard courser) was shot through the neck, and in at the reins of the back behind the saddle, which horse when he was whole, was given to the lord Grey of Wilton, than lieutenant of Gynes.  
Now the Emperor bearing in mind, the brave offer the French king had made, as here before is expressed, he sent Mounsire grand Master, as general of a great army, to besiege Torwain shortly after (a town of great moment, and well fortified) to which siege (so soon as the French heard of it) was sent Memorancy that now is living, to assist Mounsire Dessie then captain of Torwain, a man of great value, for the same Dessie was before general of all the frenchmen, that besieged Sir james Wilforde at Haddyngton in Scotland. Now Mounsire Memorancy bringing with him divers gentlemen (for the aiding of Mounsire Dessie in Torwain) determined to do some good service, and the French king in the mean while levied thirty thousand men, to remove the siege if it were possible, or at lest to relieve the town in some sort, as the time would suffer. Where upon divers captains and gentlemen requested, that they might be the first that should enter the town, among which was M. Nicholas Malbie, the king granted their request, and prepared powder in bags, and other munition for them to carry with them, that took this enterprise in hand, thus one Humphrey Hassock and a gentleman called John Griffin, with two other called Poell and Kockes, joined with three score frenchmen (M. Nicholas Malbie being with them) and passed through the Emperors Camp with great hazard, and so entered Torwain, which gave no little comfort to them that were besieged.  
Then upon the hope of the kings coming and other causes, they sallied daily out of the town, and did often annoy the Burgonions Campe. And one day the watch espying a band of footmen lying louse from their succour, under a bank, gave warning thereof to the captain of the town, who sent on the spur the French horsemen, to give charge upon them. And master Malbie espying when he came near them, that they were englishmen serving the emperors side, bad them go away, or else they should be cut all in pieces: Go away that is afeard said Nicholas Sibbill, a valiant gentleman: The Alarm then was given, and the French footmen approached, and so captain Sibbell was slain, and sundry others of his company defeated, and Humphrey Hassock having a red doublet, was taken to be a Burgonion, and so unhorsed. But M. Malbie seeing his servant in danger to be slain succoured him, by a charge he gave on those that would have killed his man, and brought his servant to the town with much a do, the soldiers on the walls beholding the same, commended the act very much.  
Thus every second or third day they sallied out, and slew in the field and in the trenches many soldiers, but still the englishmen got great praise, for their stout and desperate adventures.  
The captain of the town walking on the walls, and noting how busily the Canons went of against the breach, came down and devised that both horsemen and footmen, should suddenly make a sally out of the town, and so they did, but though the Camp seemed to be quiet, and did nothing but ply the Battery, they were well provided to resist the force of the French, and at their issuing out, there was a very great skirmish. And an Almain being an armed Pike, marched bravely out of the Camp upon some lusty conceit, unto whom road master Nicholas Malbie, and broke his staff on him, and so the Almain was slain. For which service Mounsire Memorancy, and the Captain of the Town came and embraced him when he returned, and gave him both a reward, and thanks for his labour.  
But after this town was held so short, that the soldiers could issue no more, for a general assault was daily looked for, and the breach being assaultable, the Burgonions attempted the assault, captain Gonnie having the leading thereof (with whom I was in wages) but captain Gonnies band and all the rest were repulsed, to their great rebuke and loss, notwithstanding an other assault was a preparing for, and the great shot went of so fast, that they within the town were feign to hold in their heads, a great time. But Mounsire Dessie advaunsing himself a little to high, (for to discover the meaning of his enemies) was stricken in the head with a little shot, and yielding up the ghost, spoke certain manly words, and so fell down dead.  
Then the town was somewhat discouraged, and came to a composition, howbeit a mid the Parley, the Spaniards broke into the town, and did much mischief, yet the composition was, that all of the Town, of what degree so ever they were should become prisoners, because they abode the assault and stood so long in their defence, against a mighty power and shot of the Cannon. Master Nicholas Malbie was prisoner to a Spaniard, for whose ransom captain Matson (a honest English gentleman) was answerable, and so master Malbie returned to Muttrell, where the Duke of Vandome embraced him, and took him to the French Court, who being there presented to the French King, was much made of by the Duke's means, and bountifully rewarded without suing for the same (as good soldiers be in many places,) and so he was sent to Bray again to lie in Garrison there, till they were removed to Amiance. And when the whole band was come thither, the Country furnished master Malbies' soldiers with all kind of victual, by the kings commandment.  
The Spring coming on, all the French Garrisons, and English Soldiers were commanded, to make their repair to saint Quintaines, where the King assembled his power, and marched into Henault, where he took a Town called Synnie, and from thence went and besieged Marryngbrough, a very strong town, which was yielded unto him within fourteen days: A garrison of the Gascons was left therein, and the Camp marched to a Castle called Denovanter. In which Castle jullian Romero was, and had with him five hundred Spaniards, and as many Almains that valiantly defended it, in so much that there was divers bands and Captains, that refused to assault the said Castle. The king hearing thereof, called those captains and bands before him: and caused them to be degrated, and committed them to the Spade and mattock (which is as much dishonour as a soldior may suffer) but there was great suit made by the Duke of Vandome and the nobility, for to restore them to their honour again. Which suit the King would not hear, nor give any grace unto. The company degrated on knees, besought the king that they might go and win their credit again at the assault: The king hardly granted that, but seeing they sought to serve, and do their duty, the king bad them make new black Ensigns, and said, such as could win their old Arms by manhood, at their return from the assault, they should be restored to their first degree of honour. Whereupon the assault was given, and very many of those men made there, their last service for ever, but their manliness and furious approach, was occasion that the Castle was rendered shortly after to the king, and such as returned from that assault, were much made of again, and grew in great favour with other soldiers ever after.  
The Castle being rendered, captain jullian marched Ensign displayed, armour and weapon, bag and baggage, (with Wagons for their hurt men) and so he and his soldiers, were conveyed safely to Mowns in Henaulte, where jullian made the Wagoners great cheer, and gave them good rewards.  
Within three days after, the Castle was undermined and blown up, and the Camp marched from thence to Cambraie, where the Emperor was with a great Camp, which Camp lay within three leagues of the French kings, in a night before the king marched forward, so that there was Alarm given to the kings Camp, and many issued out to the skirmish, in which skirmish albeit it was hot, master Nicholas Malbie being unarmed, took an armed man from his company, and brought him prisoner into the French Campe.  
In that season D. Wotton was Ambassador in France for Queen Marie, who commanded all the englishmen to retire home, or serve the Emperor: The two brothers hearing of that Proclamation, took their leave of France, and came to the Emperor, who gave them fifty crowns a piece every month, and so waited on the Emperor, to raise the siege of Renttie, where the French king had lain three weeks before, with forty thousand men, and had battered it very sore, and was likely to have won it, had not the Emperor prepared to give the French king battle, and come thither in time. But the French kings forty thousand, might not fight with six score thousand. And yet the French king shot of his Battery, in the full hearing of the Emperor, and would not withdraw never a piece of his ordinance from the breach, although the emperors Camp came in a marvelous bravery, and approached near unto Renttie.  
The Battery was so plied, that it went of from Sun rising to Sun set, and never seized, which made the emperors Soldiers marvel, and therefore the sooner to show some noble service. Notwithstanding, for fourteen days the Battery seized not, these two Princely Camps lying all that while, within one league of an other, a marvel of the world how such a sort of people, could be so long kept a sunder.  
Then Martin van Rous an Almain, serving with fifteen thousand soldiers, said to the Emperor, it was a great scorn, to see his enemies lie so near him in quiet, on which speeches Martin van Rous was sent, to join with the Duke of Savoy, and many Spaniard and Italian bands, and so to set upon the frenchmen, that lay in a wood between Renttie and the emperors Camp, and to attend upon those companies was appointed Count de Horn, with five hundredth Pistoliers Roittars, and certain other bands that served as wings, to Vanrowses regiment.  
So these people well bend and set in order, marched towards the wood, and the Spaniards on great peril entered the wood courageously, where they found a hot and dangerous business, and were sharply encountered, but they behaved themselves so stoutly, that with much a do they made the French retire to their main battle, and whole Camp, which was within a quarter of mile of the wood. The Duke of Savoy with certain bands of horse men and footmen, accompanied with Martin van Rous, and the Count de Horn, marched on the plain until they came to the woods end, where they found the kings battle ready to present the combat, or give the assault to the piece, that so long he had besieged.  
The English and Scots horsemen that served the French king, were in a troop together in a valley, where they provoked the skirmish. The Baron of Kyrtton who was a most valliaunte gentleman, charged upon a band of Spaniards horsemen, and clean defeatted them. The Count da Horn seeing that slaughter and overthrow, charged the Baron of Kyrttons band, (which was a little out of order, by mean of their fury) and so ran through them every man, as though they had been a few children in his way. Such is the advantage of disorder, who wiselle can take it.  
In which charge the noble Baron was taken prisoner, and brought by one of the band to the Count de Horn, the Count seeing him took out a Pistolet, and presented the shot to his breast, but he was so well armed, that the shot could not enter: The Baron beholding by this outrageous deed a bloody murdering mind craved mercy, and told the Count that he was a noble man, and would give a noble ransom, who answered, that he should have a noble death, because he should be killed at a noble man's hands, and with that word slew him, which was against all civil order, or law of Arms, but note what followed. The Duke Domale in the end of this cruelty and encounter, charged the Count de Horns band (with a brave company of men at Arms) and overthrew most of the Count de Horns people, and defeitted them all, or carried them away prisoners with him. And in that charge given, there was a company of French footmen, which set upon the Spaniards and Italians in the wood, and drove them out of the same, and possessed the wood again, to the great discourage of the other party: which frenchmen entrenched themselves in the said wood, as surely as they could.  
The English and Scots men being well mounted, and desirous of some honour, beholding what good success the Duke had found, by the valiant charge he had given. They suddenly broke upon van Rousis lanceknights, with a great shout and cry, who amazed at the noise (and afeared of the charge) flung down their weapons, and betook them to their feet: which oversight, and feebleness of spirit in them, was occasion of a great slaughter. For when the English and Scots horsemen, were a weary of killing the poor Almains, they took prisoners some one man ten, or twelve a piece, as was credibly reported.  
So that in a manner most of all van Rousis Ensigns were trodden upon, or taken from them that carried them. The Emperor was somewhat moved at this misfortune, and determined the next day in the Morning, to give the French king battle. The French king on that victory, sent a Herald of Arms with a Trumpet to the Emperor, declaring unto him, that within four and twenty hours, he would meet him in the field. For which message the Herald had a good reward, and the Emperor was glad, that so honourable an act as was offered, should end the quarrel between the French king and him.  
The fame night being well spent, and things in order for battle, the Emperor caused the Drums and Trumpets to sound, and strike a march to the field: for that he would by the break of the day, behold his enemy's power. The French King being a beaten Soldier with many dangerous services, (and looking into the danger of an extreme fight, for a wearied army) took compassion on his over-laboured men of war, that had lain in the open field all that year, and so without sound of Drum, or any 'noys making, he retired his Battery, caused his footmen to march quietly towards Muttrell (which they recovered before the break of the day) and the king with the rest of his army at midnight, privily withdrew him sell and his power, from danger of the Emperors Campe.  
Placing his horsemen in the rearguard, to tarry till the Emperor were ready to march: who had intelligence of the French Kings privy practices and departure. And thereon gave commandment to follow with all expedition (the horsemen having that in charge) to see if they could overtake any of the French kings army, especially the footmen.  
The Duke Denamores' attending on certain stragglers in going out of a wood to the plain, happened with his whole band on captain Stukeleis' troop (who all that journey, and at sundry other services had done marvelous acts) in which troop was the two brethren, master Nicholas Malbie and Ihon. And the Duke Denamores was no sooner espied, but captain Steukely and his troop charged him, who fled as fast as he might, to recover some friends and John Malbie being well horsed, put the Duke to leap hedge and dick, till he met with a band of men at Arms, which the Englishmen were not strong enough to deal with all, and so they retired. M. Richard Bingham at this service.  
And in that retiring they met with the Emperor, who gave them great thanks, and rewarded him that deserved most praise.  
The Emperor lying at Renttie five or six days, caused the breach to be made up again, and that being done, he commanded the Duke of Savoy (being his Lieutenant general) to make his repair to Hedding with his whole Campe. Where he made a very strong Town, and there was not a noble man in that Camp, but for to give good example, put once a day his hands to the Baskette and Spade. And every soldier had a double pay, so long as the work was a building: where there was in wages a hundredth thousand daily, whereof some were suffered to make roads into Picardy, and many boots gotten, among the rest the Spaniards had gotten a great booty, being accompanied with the Burgonions in the same attempt, and coming into the Camp with their prey and spoil, they were to pass by the Almains Camp, or quarter which they kept. The Almains seeing a great company, desirous of spoil, or glad to make a mutiny: fell to take some sheep, and what else they thought good from the Spaniards, the Spaniards thereon made Alarm. The Duke of Savoy knowing of this upprore, galloped with his band among the Almains, and took diverse seditious fellows, and committed them to the Provost, and one man among them, retained to a noble man of Germany, which came to the Duke, and did request him to spare his man, and pardon his offence: the Duke answered, he should suffer for his folly committed, the noble man spoke again, in so much that the Duke was displeased at the suit. The other seeing he could find no favour, told the Duke in a rude manner, that if he were not a Lieutenant general over him, he should not put his man to death, the Duke made no more a do, but took out a Pistolet that was bent, and discharged it upon the noble man, and so slew him. The Almains and Roiters thereupon armed themselves, and put them in order of battle. The Spaniards, Italians, and Burgonions presently repaired to the Duke's Pavilion. The Prince of Orrange and many other noble personages, came between the two powers, and made a peace, and so the business ended, which at the beginning, was like to have come to a great slaughter and bloodshed.  
Now for the better contentation of the Almains, there was a road made unto Muttrell, and twenty thousand Almains appointed to be at the winning of the booty, where was a great skirmish provoked, and at that time captain Steukeleis horse was killed under him, when he gave a valiant charge on his enemies.  
There was a challenge made by the Frenchmen, for the breaking of certain Lances for their mistress sakes. To answer the challenge went a Portugal, a great companion with the Duke of Savoy, and one captain T'other an Albanoys (sometime serving in England) was an other. And the third was a gentleman called Ambrose Digbie, who encountered a valiant horseman named Petro Strose, and they broke both the one upon the other: Ambrose Digbies horse was somewhat strong headed, and bore his Master away into the French troop, where the Duke Denamoures courteously asked him, if any thing were amiss in his armour, in purpose to amend it, (yet the Duke was a great friend to Petro Strose, for Strose was his Lieutenant) Ambrose Digbie answered, that all was well, and gave the Duke and the gentlemen great thanks for their courtesy, and so gallowped to the other side at his pleasure. Petro Strose in like sort went back again to his own company. For captain T'other was not so fortunate that day as courageous: for he ran three courses one after an other, and could not break, and the Frenchman that ran against him, broke every course his lance, the reasons was, why captain T'other broke not, always at the couching of the Lance, his horse flung out, which moved the gentleman very much and for which foul condition, he gave the horse immediately away. The Portugal being bravely horsed upon a bay courser, had not worse hap than courage. For he broke full in the face of the ●eue●, it was thought that he that ran against him, was the Baron of Burnasell, who broke in like manner always upon the Portugal.  
In the mean time there was diverse bands, that had gotten a great booty, and spoil in the Country, which contented much the Almains, who with their spoil and booty, were retired to the camp, whereof intelligence being given to the Duke, he caused a retreat to be sounded, and every man marched forward to the Campe.  
But the French waited on them, and skirmished all the way, where good service was to be seen on both sides, so they departed the one side to the Camp, and the other side to Muttrell.  
When they were in the camp, and the Duke in his Pavilion at supper, there was great commendation given to the Portugal, for the best doer that day, he hearing his own praise, replied and said, he should but flatter himself, to believe that report to be true, since all men might see the English gentleman ran with the greatest Lance, and broke most fairest, and especially, because he ran against Petro Strose, who was counted to be one of the valliauntest gentlemen of France: so with this and such like talk, they rose from the table.  
When this Town called new Hedding was finished, there was left in the same a very great Garrison, both of Burgonions and Almains, and then the Camp was dispersed, and many soldiers cashed, and put out of wages.  
Whereupon the two brothers, thought to make their repair into England, to which place the Duke of Savoy was going, and so with him they came over, and attended on him three Months, and came again to the service of the Emperor, where they remained, until an Army was appointed to go to Saint Quintaines. The noble Earl of Penbroke being Lord lieutenant (for that service) over the English Army, in which regiment M. Nocholas Malbie had charge of fifty light horsemen. The Army lying between Gynes and Arde, the garrison of Arde being strong issued out, and gave our Camp Alarm, and our English men unacquainted with that kind of 'noys, and order of war, were in a manner a mased, some ronning one way, and some an other, and one George Broughton, having the leading of fifty horsemen, went out of the Camp, and was immediately encountered with a band of frenchmen, who charged so furiously, that they wan the Gydon of George Broughtons band, and carried it away. Nicholas Malbie coming from the scout with his band, and hearing the Alarm without the Camp, made his repair with certain of his company, where he met with Broughton, who said he had lost his Gydon, upon that news master Malbie caused all his company to return, and make haste to overtake the French, which they overtook at the turnpike, and so sharply dealt with them, that the Gydon was recovered again, by master Malbies' own hand, who brought it himself, and delivered it unto George Broughton, that gave him great thanks therefore.  
Master Broughton caused the Lord Lieutenant, to promise' master Malbie a recompense for this bold attempt, and diverse noble men commended the service, upon the report of such as saw it.  
The next day the Camp removed to Samedeboyes, and so toward Saint Quintaines, where king Philip was besieging the town, with a mighty Army, which had overthrown most of the nobility of France, that came to secure saint Quintaines, and the English Camp being before the town, was appointed to set out certain bands, for the going to the assault, among which was one captain Vaughan, who came to a friend of his, and desired of all friendship, (and for old acquaintance sake) to light of his horse, and go with him to the sault. Now in good faith said Nicholas Malbie, though horsemen never come to the breach, with my friend I will either win the Spurs, or lose the Saddle, and so a lighted, and went with master Vaughan (having first procured licence of the Lord lieutenant) to the assault, where the enemies were ready to defend their Town, and their lives, yet as God would, the enemies gave place with much a do, to those that valiantly entered the breach. And the first that entered (as diverse did behold) was these two friends: which upon their entry, ran to saint Quintaines Church, and got there saint Quintaines head (a rich jewel) and were coming away with this great treasure, but the Almains had entered at the other breach, and met master Malbie and captain Vaughan, and being a strong company together, took away the gained booty from them, and put them in hazard of their lives, so that they were feign and glad to escape, and leave saint Quintaines head behind them.  
Vaughan was hurt in the face, and therefore desired to go to the Camp to be cured. And at this assault there were many made rich, though these two friends had but evil Fortune, and found enemies, where they should have had friends. The town was spoiled and ransacked, and the Admiral of France with many others were taken there, and so king Philip fortified it again, and left therein a great Garrison, and retired towards the Burgonion Pail, taking certain towns and fortresses in his way.  
Not very long after a peace was concluded, and the English Army being well paid, and in England, master Nicholas Malbie went to the Irish wars, and kept captain Girtton company not in pay, but upon pleasure: The Earl of Sussex then Lord deputy, and captain Girtton having somewhat to take with the Lord deputy, desired master Malbie, to see that his charge and country should be well governed, till his return: and gave M. Malbie power, to do what he pleased in that behalf.  
There was one in those parts named Mighell Patrick, that was a tickle Subject, and did many wrongs to his neighbours, and namely to captain Girtons men, against whom master Malbie went, and had diverse times the upper hand of him, and put him and his Kern to flight.  
In this season there was a Proclamation, made by the Lord deputy, that whosoever could take a Rimar (which were a kind of Superstitious Prophesiers of Ireland) should spoil him, and have his goods, without danger of Law.  
Master Malbie, master Anthony Poor, master Robart Hartpole, master Thomas Masterson being all at Kilkennie, heard of certain blind Prophesiers called Rhymers, that had been abroad with gentlemen and others, and gotten their best horses, Plate, and jewels, for telling them fables and lies: which jewels and treasure, came to the value of two hundredth marks.  
These Rhymers going home, were followed by these gentlemen, and brought back to Kilkennie, and there spoiled and whipped, and banished the town, which Rhymers swore to Rhyme these gentlemen to death, but as yet God be thanked, they have taken no hurt, for punishing such disordered people.  
In a little while after, master Malbie went to my lord of Warwick his master, who was Lord Lieutenant of New Haven, where master Malbie was not only my lords Secretary, but also was ready in all services, and had good and great entertainment at my lords hands, and John Malbie served there at his own charges on horse back, and captain Horssey can tell what good service he did at a skirmish by Harfflue, master Thomas Horde is a good witness in like sort of the same service. For Horde was stricken through the hips with a shot, and lay on the ground, at the mercy of the enemy's sword, when John Malbie flung in among the thickest, and recovered his country man, who yet is living, and able to do good service.  
At this service master John Malbies' horse received two shot, and yet carried his master to New Haven after.  
At New Haven was diverse times great an noble services to be seen. The Ryngrave and all his regiment could well show you the same: For they thought and found, that our Soldiers were of great value and worthiness. For many of the Ryngraves band, passed under the misericorde of our English black Bills. And the Ryngrave (a most worthy and noble warrior) confessed himself, that English soldiers aught to be honoured. But the Plague being so sore and so terrible in New Haven, the value of our men could not be seen but a little season, and so the town of necessity was yielded, wherein was left captain Randall, and captain Malbie, to see the hurt men conveyed away, and the great ordinance carried into England, that was agreed upon between the French, and the Earl of Warwick, by which means (and to see the conditions performed) captain Randall, and captain Malbie were the last of our English nation, that came out of New Haven.  
These things brought to pass, and all things in quiet here at home. The two brethren heard of wars between king Phillippe, and the great Turk: and tarrying a small time here, they sailed unto Spain, and came to the Court where by the means of the Count de Ferrey, the king gave them a gracious welcome, and commended them in his letters to Dom John de Tholethoe, than Viceroy of Cisill, and captain general of his Army against the Turks, and Admiral of the Levaunt sea. The king also gave them letters unto the Viceroy of Kateloniea (who was Duke of Langgivill) for their passing into Cisill, which Duke used them very courteously, and appointed them a Frigate, which was rowed with four and twenty Oars, and had appointed for their safe conduit fifty Soldiers with victuals, for all the whole company.  
They arrived in a City called Guarthelagare, and walking abroad up and down the streets, till their men had provided their supper. There came one unto them, that was the Algusie Magore, and crossing the street before them, offered them his verge, as in a manner of, a rest, which they yielded unto, and with that he drew out their Rapiers, to see if they were according to the size of that Country, and finding one of them about the breadth of a straw, longer than his measure, he carried both the two brethren to prison, they mistrusting his dealing, requested him to bring them to the Carriage door. Who answered they should go to him, but strait ways he clapped them up in a strong prison: where they were feign to work for their liberty, and sending a great journey back again to the king of Spain, that lay at Madriell, by means of master Shelley, and the Count de Ferrye, they received letters again from the king that he which did them wrong, should be put out of office, and should pay their charges (that was the Corigedoore) and the other that did areste them, first should have his neck broken, and should be cast into a Well, except they that had the wrong would pardon him. Which they did pardon, but he lost his office, and paid for their charges, which was thought a great matter in a strange Country, and taken to be a great justice in a king.  
So they passed towards Palarma through many dangers, and perilous passages, being sundry times in hazard, to fall in the laps of the Turks Galleys, and yet through good hap, and conduct of the Frigate, they were in (which was well furnished) they escaped all perils, and came to Palarma.  
From thence they held company with the Galleys of Cisill that went to Messiney, where being arrived, they presented their letters to the Viceroy, who used them courteously, and presented them to diverse noble men, and furnished them with all such necessaries as they needed.  
There was a gentleman that came from Sardinia (where the brethren had been) and brought letters of commendation (from king Philip and Dom John de Austria) in his behalf: who the Viceroy examined gently, and finding him not meet to take charge in such a great service, as was then intended, gave him good entertainment, and told him that other ancient soldiers, must be first preferred, because the greatest service of Christendom, was presently to be followed, with men of most experience.  
And so placing this gentleman in a Captains' wages, and at his own table, he gave the two brethren the charge of a Galley, which was under the leading of a gentleman, whose name was Giles Andratha, one of the order of the white Crosse. And within five day, the whole power pasfed from Messina to Seragosa, where they remained seven days, and from thence they passed to Malta, every man bearing on his back two and thirty pound weight of biscuit, which burden both noble and simple, were willing to carry, at the lest four Italian miles. For they landed at S. Paul's road, and marched to the ancient City named Civeravegia.  
Sir John Smithe that now is (a valliaunte grave gentleman) showed himself there so honourable, that he advanced the fame of his country, by the nobleness of his mind.  
The Turks upon the arrival of the Christians, plucked back their Battery, and embarked their great Ordinance, and retired their men of war a Shipboard, but in their retire they lost fifteen hundred Turks, and those soldiers that were before penned up issued out, and recovered two great Cannons, Dom Garsia was gone back again to Saragosa, for the residue of the Army. And in the mean time the Turks stole away, and retired towards Constantinople, when intelligence was sent unto Dom Garsia (being in Cicill) of the departure of the Turks Army, he made great speed to come to Malta, leaving the power he went for behind him: and being arrived, took order for the fortification of every dismembered piece, that being done he took certain soldiers into the Galleys, and sought to find some of the scattered Turks on the seas. So passing from Malta Eastward, he came to an Island called Strumdario, John Andredoria met with an Argosy, and was so bold as to borrow such victuals as the Argosy had, for the better relieving of his Galleys. And after the Army had refreshed them there▪ they passed to an Island called Sireygo▪ where the Army of the Turks were upon the one side of the Island, so attending some good Fortune, they tarried there seven days, in which time fresh victuals waxed scant. Then were they driven to retire towards Cisill, without doing any exploit, and having great want of victuals, and sweet water, the Spaniards died out of all order. And if God had not sent a shower of Rain, by mean of a Thunder, full many a stout man had perished for want of fresh water, which relieved both the Soldier, and the Galley slave, the shower of Rain was so sweet, and comfortable.  
In the mean time, a brute was blown in Cisill (on the sudden departing of Dom Garsia from thence) that the Turks had won Malta, by which report and overthrow, a noble man of Cisill, thought to expulse the spaniards out of that country, and so slew as many as he might say hands on, and whiles he was in his greatest glory, and practising a general revolt. The Galleys arrived there that lacked victuals before, wherein was six thousand soldiers, and the General being at Messina, having intelligence of all this business, caused the noble man to be apprehended, and with him six of his confederates, and setting up a Scaffold, and a pair of Gallows, caused the noble man's head to be smitten of, and his six fellows to be hanged before his face. And after this execution, a new Custom was raised for their Silks, in sign that this revolt should never be forgotten.  
The Army dispersed, and every man gone to his country, a quarrel had like to have grown, between the captain of the Kings Galleys, and the captain of the Galleys of Naples, in the going out of Messina, for they began to strive, which of them aught to bear the Flag of the Admiral, Dom Garsia stated the matter, and made them both friends, and took a good order for that cause.  
Then it was appointed by Dom Garsia, that the two brothers should embark with the captain of the Kings Galleys, but sir Edward Standley being at Messina, was occasion upon his request, that the brothers might not keep company together for a space, but they met merry after at Naples, where sir John Smithe met with them, who dealt as courteously with them there, as he did before in Cisill.  
And they remaining in Naples fourteen days, they embarked themselves with Dom Alueray de Basane (for Spain) who was the captain of the kings Galleys, and passing from thence all along the coast of Italy, came to Gone and remained fourteen days there. From Gone to Barsilonia, in which voyage befell a great storm, but the danger being passed they landed, and were forced for want of horses, to travail through the kingdom of Katellonia, & Arragon, and so into Castille. And then finding the king at Madreell, they made at their leisure their repair to the Count de Ferrey, who presented them to the king: He being in his privy Chamber alone, with one of the Generals that was at Malta, which commended the service of the two brethren so much, that the king made them kiss his hand, and so they departed towards their lodging, where they found Secretary Arras servant, ready to present them from king Phillippe, five hundred Ducats. Dom Garsias letters were delivered the king of their service, a little before, and so with the kings favour, and bountiful reward, they reposed themselves a season.  
And minding but to take their leave, they came to the Court again, where the king gave them gracious speeches, and five hundred Ducats more, a liberality meet for such a Prince, and a reward that might have pleased a right good subject, as in deed the two brethren stood so well contented withal, that they accounted all those Soldiers happy, that might serve such a king.  
And there withal the king gave them fifty Ducats a piece, to be paid every month, so long as they listed to serve him.  
In Naples, the like entertainment the Emperor his father had given them before, but they seeing the great bounty, and Princely dealing of the king of Spain, (and minding to have more experience of the world) they took their leave of his Majesty, and purposed to return towards England. So passing to Bilbo, they found master Man, who was come to be a leaguer in Spain, and having a bark to bring them into Foye, (a haven in cornwall) they took shipping and in five days came into England.  
Being come to the Court of England, the honourable sir Frances Knowlles was to pass into Ireland: then master Nicholas Malbie made suit to go over, where he might be employed. And his master the noble Earl of Warwick prefarred him, both by letter, and commendation of his service: So attended he on sir Frances Knowles, till he came to sir Henry Sidney then Lord deputy, who upon view of his letters, and the regard of his knowledge, made him Sergeant Maior, in which room he served well and worthily, till upon good consideration, the Lord deputy placed him at Karikfargus, and gave him charge there of a hundred horsemen, in which charge he so behaved himself, towards the Prince and soldiers, that he spent five hundredth pound, more than his entertainment, to the honouring of his Country, and enriching of his Soldiers.  
Thus he did continued to his great charges a long while. And at length came down to Karrikefargus, sir William Fuwillyams as Lord justice, who lying long in Camp, with a number of Soldiers, for the reforming of matters out of frame, he wanted victuals. So sent for captain Malbie, and sought his advise for the relieving of the whole power. And master Malbies' opinion was to prey upon the enemy, and finding things ready for that purpose. Prepared to set upon a Kreete as they were feeding, the enemies had intelligence thereof, and drove they Cows into a Bawne (otherwise called a place of defence) captain Malbie seeing their craft, shot of the Hargabose among the beasts, they that were so hurt, ran in a madness among their fellows, and so drove out five hundredth good Cows, in the danger of the Soldiers, and so they were driven to the Camp, and the hungry people thereby found sustentation.  
Sir Henry Sidney came out of England anon after this, and landed at Karykefargus, where remaining but a few days, he marched towards the Ban, for to parley with Torlo Lenno, who named himself Oneall. The Deputy being there made Proclamation, for all such as had any pledges for their behaviour, willing them to come in accordingly, or else their pledges should suffer for their disobedience, that left them in pledge. Among all the residue Macke Ilaspete was one moste accounted of, but he nothing respecting his pledges, (or else nothing doubting the danger they were in) stayed and would not come unto the Lord deputy, the Lord deputy being no dallier in causes of duty, caused the pledges to be executed. That being done, Macke Ilaspet sought to revenge, and came with five hundredth Scots into the Country, he was encountered with one Richard Hunt a Lieutenant of horsemen, a very valiant soldier, who upon his first charge was slain. Then captain Cheston being in the field, marched toward the Scots with a hundredth footmen, and being near the Scots, there were certain gentlemen (as it seemed by their apparel) that attempted the band of foot men, and charged them, but Cheston and his band stood very fast, and determined to fight it out. In which stout standing to their business, they slew on the first charge given unto them forty gentlemen, whereof Macke Ilaspite was the best, for he had the leading of the rest that time. Upon which repulse the residue fell to fly: so that they were murdered and slain, like a sort of Sheep.  
Now Bryan Mackefellyn standing not far of, seemed never to come in, till he saw the overthrow given, which happened otherwise (peradventure) than he hoped for, but at the length he came faintly in, and yet would not follow the chase, being called a very good subject.  
This broil enden, captain Chestons' men took the spoil of such as was slain, and so retired.  
It was not long after, but there came a new supply, to revenge Macke Ilaspetts death, which being entered the Country, were encountered withal again with Captain Cheston, who showed such value, that in one skirmish were slain two hundred Scots: and in the same skirmish that valiant Soldier Cheston by name, was shot into the ball of the knee, of which hurt he died, which brought great sorrow to Karyckefargus.  
captain Nicholas Malbie being in the English pale with his band: There was a journey appointed by the lord deputy, to be made upon a certain Rhymer, that belonged to Oneall, at a place called the Kloher. This draft was drawn by one Thomas flemings, a great friend of captain Malbies. And there was chief appointed for that journey the Baron of Deluin, master Edward Moore, and captain Collyar.  
Some business was among the soldiers, for the going of that journey: and some drew back, and some misliked the long march, which must be done in short time. But the Baron of Deluyn and Captain Malbie, did determine to try Fortune, and appointed the footmen a place of meeting, and to retire unto them, if occasion so served: But the horsemen road on the spur, and entered the Country they sought at a good hour, and slew there a number of rebels, bringing from thence a great booty, to the number of xii. thousand Cows and Mares, and drove their prey to the Cloher. Which was within two miles of Oneals house, and thither came the foot bands, and so Camped all together that night.  
Oneall whilst they were there sent them word, they should be foughten withal, ere they went out of the Country, to which threats they gave small ear, and made less answer.  
Shortly after captain Malbie was to return to Karickefargus with his charge, where he remained a small season, there was an occasion given by the captain of Kyllowlto of his disorder, and having a convenient time for the correction of the same, and did it not. Wherefore captain Malbie called his soldiers together, and entered Kyllowltoes' Country, and took a part of his prey, and marching through apace. There went by captain Malbie a wood Kerne talking with him, the Kerns sword drawn, and passing under a bow in a strait: the Kern let drive at the captain, and hit him on the hose, which was so well stuffed with hear, that the hurt was nothing great, and so the Kern fled into the wood.  
It was not three days after, but captain Malbie, and captain Peers having a Commission to sit upon, made Proclamation, that whatsoever he was of any degree and had made offence that would come in, and answer to that should be laid to his charge, he should come safe and go safe, without any harm or danger.  
On which Proclamation, the self same wood Kerne came, and presented himself before the Commissioners: whereat captain Malbies heart stirred, and a soldier of his that gave him warning of this Kern, in the place said openly, captain this is the traitor, that struck you stooping under a bow. The Kern answered, it was he in deed. Then was he demanded, how dared he come thither that had done so traitorous an act. The Kern answered again, because I heard that the captain never broke his word: I ventured to try his fidelity, not caring for mine own life. With that he was had into a house, and made both drink and eat, and so was sent away: which courtesy and troth kept in promise, made this Kern ever after a true follower of captain Malbie.  
captain Peers upon some conceit or cause, hated this Kern, and afterwards arrested him diverse times, which Kerne sent to master Malbie to be his surety, who become bound for him, to pay four and twenty Cows at a day appointed.  
There was one made a complaint to the Lord Deputy of Bryan Ballowe, who sent for Bryan to answer the wrong he had done. Well qd Bryan I will go keep my promise, for I hope captain Malbie will not see me suffer death, which keeps my word: The only credit of a man's life.  
With that his wife and friends took hold of his mantel to stay him, but he so struggled that he got from them, and came stark naked before the Lord deputy, of whom Bryan Ballowe was cherished for his faithfulness.  
In that time while Sir Harry Sidney was Deputy, there befell a great broil about Kylkennie, to redress the which business, was sent sir Peter Carowe, captain Gilbart, captain Malbie, and captain Basnette, who being in Kylkennie heard say that a thousand Gallowglasses were in a plain, not far from the town: so these Captains issued out of the gates, (which were kept shut for great occasion) and came in the view of those Gallowglasses. There fell a great shower of Rain the same season, and the Gallowglasses seeing the englishmen but a few, and they being many, made a show of fight, and putting of their broeges, and shaking their Axes, gave a great shout and a cry, as their manner is when they hope of victory. But the English Captains minded not to give over the matter for a brag. And determined courageously to set upon their enemies: which in deed they did, and gave so lusty a charge that they ran clean through them, and slew at the lest four hundred of them, putting the rest to flight, and following the chase, drove them into a wood, which being near saved many of their lives. Sir Peter Caroe said, much of this victory rested in captain Malbies' manhood and conduct.  
The Lord deputy sent Sir Peter Caroe, for to take possession of a certain Castle, in which Castle was a company of stout men: And to the service was captain colyer, captain Furs, and others sent. They within shot and slew our people, which increased the hatred and malice: Much business was about this Castle, and at length it came to a parley, and whiles the captains were at the parley, the soldiers were made drink, and a silver bowl sent them to drink in out of the Castle: But the parley could not take up the matter, & so they called for their silver bowl again, but a soldier with one leg, whose name was halting Dick, having the silver bowl in his hand, made answer, that he would keep that till the reckoning were made of the rest. And the parley being done, they put in the Constable of the Castle at a grate, and suddenly withal they thrust in a great piece of Timber, which kept the grate open, wherein the Soldiers entered, and so won the Castle, where after was a pitiful murder, for man, woman, and child were put to the sword. And the soldiers found therein great riches, especially Tapestry and Plate, and much good household stuff.  
It was not long after, but the Lord deputy raised a great power, to go to the West against the rebels, whose leader was james Fitz Moris: which was reported to be of great force. And the Lord deputy marching forward toward Clammell: the news was brought, that Fitz Morris was so strong, that the Lord deputy was to weak to deal withal. So counsel was given him to retire. The lord deputy seeing the cowardice of some (and having good courage himself) called captain Malbie and asked his advise, who answered, if good guides could bring my lord through the plain Country, his five hundredth horse would march in despite through all Ireland. The Lord deputy thereon said, he never bore the George that day, that he gave place to any rebels: and so the Deputy commanded them to march, and his power came that night, and lodged at a Castle of his enemies, as the report went. There was a stout Kerne seeing the Deputies camp coming, ran out of the Castle and set many houses a fire, because the Lord Deputies power should have no succour thereof, and be in so●● danger by their approach. To which Kern John Malbie galloped apace, and so dispatched him, which was a good piece of service.  
The next day the Castle was yielded, so the lord deputy marched to the White knights Country, and besieged a strong Castle of his, and because they did withstand the siege, they were all put unto the sword.  
From thence he marched toward a Castle in the Desmondes Country, called baly Marten, where they withstood the siege, so it was battered. And there was one called the Seneschal, who found mean in the night, to steal away with all his company, and so they took the bog, and escaped to james Fitz Morrice, who made many words and threatenings, but he performed no piece of those promises. So after this, the Lord deputy came unto Cork, and from thence to Lymbrick, taking all the Castles in his way that he found, till he came to Gallawaye. And after he returned towards Dublin, in which journey his enemies did never show their faces.  
Shortly after this, captain Malbie took in farm the country of Lakaell, at the hands of the Earl of Kildare which Lakaell had lain waste three years before, and after that came sir Thomas Smiths base son with his horsemen and footmen, to a place called the Ardes, near neighbour to captain Malbie, who furnished master Smithe with diverse things, and did bestow on him and his soldiers, a good round some of money: but master Smiths fortune was not good, and so at the length he was slain, as after you shall hear.  
Now the noble and most bountiful gentleman of England, came over as Governor of Ulster, I mean the Earl of Essex, whose praises no man in the world can eclipse. Which earl was accompanied with a goodly band of horsemen and footmen, he arrived at Karrickefargus: And there came with him the Lord Rich, Master Henry Knowlles, and his four brethren, master Mighell Carie, and master John Carie, sons to the Lord of Honsdon, and master William Norrice, and master John Norrice, two of the eldest sons of the Lord Norrice, whose courages and deeds, did show their noble race, as in deed the other gentlemen named before them, by their own acts apart, did often times express their honourable birth. There was likewise one master Blunt a valiant gentleman, brother to the Lord Mongie, and sundry others, whose names I have forgotten.  
Within a pretty space after this noble Earl's arrival, sir Bryan Mackefellin (who was accounted then a rebel) did sue to come in. To whom the Earl gave protection, and yielding himself simply, unto the Queen, the Earl not only granted him a pardon, but also gave him great gifts, and used him so courteously, as he could not imagine how to be better entertained.  
But Bryan's follower being weary of well doing (and peradventure by Bryan's consent) the soldiers horses could not be in safety, and the followers of Bryan fell to open theft, and privy filching. The Earl willed Bryan to give correction to the malefactors, who promised from time to time, but no redress could be had.  
The Earl letting those offences pass, and conceived that he had not his people in such obedience, as was reason, and so bore with little faults, in hope amendment would follow: but all this while the soldiers were rob, and as the poor men themselves were caught alone, they were murdered. For which outrage the Earl shaped a revenge, and so to cry quittance: but Bryan hearing thereof, desired to come in, and make his answer, the Earl granted that, and so sir Bryan came, and made his submission, declaring he could not rule his naughty people, and was sorry for their follies, and foul facts committed. So the Earl bad him bring them all into an Island called Mahair, and offered Bryan's men an aid, to bring them that would refuse to come, promising they should be all well used, and all former faults should be forgotten.  
Sir Bryan so departed, and in fine wrought cunningly to deceive the Earl, and depart with all his Creett of Kine, (which amounted to twenty thousand) into the woods, or where he thought best: but my Lord of Essex had good espial on Bryan, by mean of captain Malbie, notwithstanding, the sleights of the enemies were so fine, that they could not be easily perceived, nor prevented, because so many tales were brought, and so many flatters took sir Bryan's part. Yet always the Earl did that, which he thought for the best, and was loath to seek blood, but upon a great occasion, and yet in the end true word was brought, that Mackefellyn was stolen away, by this means as I shall tell you, captain Malbie and his brother hearing of this dispute, and having great business to repair unto Lakaill took their journey, and as they were riding, they espied a friend of theirs coming galloping, whose name was Mark Hoult.  
Who brought news of Bryan's going away, which messenger they sent in all haste to the Earl: and they appointed a place, where they would meet the Earl. But in the mean while they hasted to stay Bryan and they might, or to hold him play till the Earl came. But that was in vain, for all the Crete had take a strength before the day. Yet the Earl marched apace, and came within two miles of the enemy, where he met captain Malbie: but of necessity the Earl retired to Carryckefargus, for this matter could not be recovered.  
Yet in a few days after, the Earl made a road against Bryan, and by mean of a Spaniel in the company, their intent was escried, and wanting Kern to enter the wood the Earl retired homeward again.  
The Earl sent for the Baron of Dongarren, and master Edward Moor, and one Thomas Fleming, but Bryan had gotten intelligence thereof, and lay in wait for to entrap them: The Baron came to Bellfaste and passed the Ford, and sent to Hollyngburne Abbey for master Moor, so passing a soft pace towards the Earl, Bryan's horsemen broke, and so the Baron retired back to the ford again, where by chance master Malbie was, and gave the Baron succours, and caused them to pass over the Ford, for their better surety.  
But those horsemen that they had sent for master Moore, did light in the laps of their enemies, in coming back again: yet some of them were well horsed, and so escaped to Hollyngburne Abbay, and those that were nearest mischief were slain.  
This hazard being paste, captain Malbie sent in post to the Earl, to come closely with as many horsemen, and footmen as he might make, and to come in the night following: the Earl made speed, and came as secretly as he might, three hours before day, to the place appointed: where he lay in covert, till it was time to pass over the Ford.  
Now the Baron with master Moor and their company passed over, and had not gone but a little ground, but they were sharply set upon, and sent back again, Bryan's foot men were so near them: with that Captain Malbie and his brother hastened to the skirmish (which grew very hot) and as they were almost over the water, master Richard Blunt coming with them, cried, a charge, a charge, and so setting his staff against his thigh, he ran among the●m which were footmen, which had quickly killed his horse, and had him down, laying load upon him (which was a wonder of the world he had not been slain) captain Malbie and his brother with five or six more, gave a charge to rescue him, and so put his enemies back, where at a man of the Barons, and an other called Thomas Fleming, took him up, and haled him away. At this skirmish many of Bryan's men were slain: and the englishmen did retire over the water in time, for the tide was coming.  
And the very same night, the enemies came over the water, and encamped themselves by the English power. And in the morning betimes they provoked the skirmish, both cunningly and manfully. For at the first beginning, they killed master William Norrises horse under him (who variantly behaved himself) and in less than an hour, captain Malbies' horse was stricken down: and if Sir William Morgan with great courage, and one master Egerton had not done very well, captain Malbie had been slain, for his horse lay upon him. The noble Earl beholding this broil, with his footmen came flying in, and gave a charge on the rebels, and put them to flight, and did it in such order, that many of the enemies lost their lives thereby: And after that charge, they retired into the woods, where sundry of them were overthrown, and those that escaped went to their Crete.  
As time did pass, and the Earl lay at Karrickefargus, news was brought that one Noall Macke Bryan Artho, had devised a draft, for the killing of Master Thomas Smithe, who was slain by that devise: My Lord of Essex was much moved at that deed, and captain Malbie and his brother were marvelous sorry, for the loss of such a neighbour, and good companion. And swore to revenge his death, ere it should be long, as they did when occasion served therefore. In process of time the two brethren desired leave, to repair into Lakaell (meaning to practise a revenge for master Smiths death) the Earl not knowing their minds, gave John Malbie leave to go, but kept the other captain about his own person. Master John Malbie coming into Lakaell, mustered all the men he might make, and having a good power, sufficient as need required, practised with one called Donny Sallow, for the catcheing of neal Bryan Artho at some advantage, and promised at the lest an hundred pounds for his labour, that should draw such a drift. This Donny Sallow as much for the money, as glad to please his friend, went closely about this matter, and brought such certain news, of neal Bryan Arttoes' haunt and order of life, that it was an easy thing, either to compass him in some danger, or lay hands upon his followers.  
And by a good occasion master John Malbie, with three score and four horsemen, and a few footmen, he made such a slaughter, that five and thirty of his best men, that followed neal Bryan Artto were licked up and slain, and a great prey and booty taken from him, and brought away, he being two hundredth footmen, and forty horsemen in the field. Among those men that was slain, was one Con Mackmeloeg, who before caused master Smithe to be eaten up with Dogs, after he had been boiled, and this same Con Mackmeloeg being slain, was left among wolves u days, and was had into a house, where his friends howled, and cried over his dead body so long, that by mischance a great deal of powder caught fire, and set the house in a flame: the Dogs in the town smelling this dead body ran in, and took it out of the house, and so tore it in pieces, and fed upon his carrion flesh openly. Which was a thing to be much marveled at, and thought to be sent from God, for a terror to all tyrants hereafter.  
Now here is to be noted, that the Earl so long as he had power, left no occasion to trouble Bryan Mackefellyn, and to make him know he had offended the Queen's highness, and for that cause the Earl made diverse journeys upon him. As a journey where a prey was to be won, where master Maunsfeelde, a proper man was slain at, and master Harry Knowles was fore hurt in, who served nobly that day. And a journey made to the Glyns, to Freers' Town, and to many other places among the enemies, but with this service and diligence, the English gentlemen were so wearied, that sundry sought means to depart into England, and so the Earl remained with the less force, and could not put further the matter in practice, than his power and Fortune would suffer and procure, notwithstanding he found means to entrap, and take sir Bryan Mackefellyn, which he sent to Develyn, and caused to be returned again. At whose return to avoid further trouble sir Bryan was put to death, on which execution runneth diverse reports, the manner whereof I leave to the world. For my intent is but to show briefly, how things were begun and ended, at that present time of service.  
All this season remained with the Earl, sir Nicholas Malbie and his brother, captain Barkley, captain Selby, captain Bousar, captain Deering, sir Peter Carewe, sir William Morgan, and two of my Lord of Hunsdons' sons, master Harry Bronkar, and others of good calling, courage, and credit.  
Sir William Fuwillyams was Lord deputy then, who took great pains, to reform the bad disposition of disobedient people, and often times was in Camp himself to use the sword, and minister Justice. And at his going away, came the honourable sir Harry Sidney, in whose time was much to be done, but especially against one Sarlaboyes a Skotte, that kept about the Ban, and had overthrown a number of tall soldiers, saruing at Karryckefargus, among the which company was captain Baker slain. So for the revenge and redress of these and such like causes, the Lord deputy made a power, and marched from Dradaffe to Dondalke, and so to the Newewrie, and from thence to Lakaell, and so toward Bellfaste, where in a wood a great number of wild Kern (under the leading of Brian Macke Farttie) did attend us, and stayed us from taking the advantage of the tide, they plied us with such shot and other their lewd demeanour. But we charged on them, and so drove them into their fastness: Captain Harryngton and his band served well that season, I beheld the same, and with small difficulty we put the enemies back, and passed the River with some hazard, for the flood was come in, and we were feign to carry our footmen behind us a horseback, and some we led by the hands, which moiled and wet the poor soldiers extremely, but the march that we had after to Karryckefargus, brought the poor men in good heart again: but their victuals waxed scant, and we carried a longer season than was looked for, by mean of the hollow and false dealing of the wild Scots, of whom Sarlaboyes was captain.  
This Serlaboyes had in his Crete (as they call it) thirty thousand Kine, and yet we wanted both Beef and Biskette: The reason was, the wind served not to convey us victuals from Strangfforde, and other places appointed to victual the Campe.  
At the length Serlaboyes was feign, and glad to send us some Kine, and so we marched away: but the second day after, the wood Kerns spied their time, and set upon some of our carriages, and took with them both trunks full of apparel, and some plate, but they could not do to our power any hurt at all, save to a few that went without order, and felt some scourge for their folly.  
After this the Lord deputy road to a place called Blackwater, to whom came the Oneall, and made his humble submission: and so we held on in journeying, and march still towards the West, and came first to the Forts in Affayleye, where some offenders were hanged, and then to Kylkennie the Lord deputy passed, but before he came near the Town, the noble Earl of Ormonde with a brave train met the Lord deputy, and afterwards feasted him most sumptuously: and now to speak of this valiant Earl, it shall beautify my matter. For his service, charges and travail hath been such, that it deserveth memorial for ever: For always and at all seasons, he hath on his own proper cost and charge been as ready, and as forward to serve the Prince, as any man that ever I have heard spoken of, noble or otherwise: and this is most to be commended in that noble Earl, he never broke faith in his days, but had such regard to his honour, that he would keep touch with his mortal enemies, and much more with his friends, and where due obedience doth lead him. I lack but laisure to praise that noble man a right, and so for this time I go no further, in his honourable commendations.  
Now from Kylkennie the lord deputy went to Korke, and so to Lymbricke, where I saw the Earl of Desmonde come in with great humility and reverence: and many others of the Nobility of Ireland, dutifully behaved themselves there. So from that place the Lord deputy went to Gallawaie, and returned home through Connaught (where now Sir Nicholas Malbie remains as governor.  
FOr that it shall not seem in any sort, that either affection or report, should lead my pen to the praise of one, and leaving out the laud of an other (which is a kind of curring favour with men, and a favourer of good fortune) I have drawn and set down in good order, the valiant services of diverse captains that were at New Haven, who aught not to be forgotten, if I writ not partially, and void of consideration. Among the which Captains I find captain Read (now in the Garrison of Berwick) a man so worthy of memory, and garnished with knowledge and courage, that he not only merits to be spoken of, but likewise deserveth to be honoured in Marshall causes, and exercises of war.  
And because sundry reports hath been bruited (and blown abroad, otherwise then reason requireth) of the keeping and yielding of New Haven: I mind in brief and short manner, to make a whole and sound description of the services there. Which in mine opinion were both dangerous and manly, and may be called a noble exploit: till God's visitation by terrible Plague and diseases, had infected the town, and disouraged stout soldiers.  
For in calling to mind the sundry hazards, and extremities they were in, (considering a few in comparison in a strange Country, withstood a great nation and multitude of men well experimented. I am moved to touch a little their value, and to shut in silence by this my true rehearsal, the babbling speeches of those that have barked, or snarled at the well doing of their Country men. Whose fame and laudation in our Forefathers days hath overmatched, and far surpassed the glory of any our neighbours, examine but their deeds and conquests, and you shall need no further trial of the matter.  
Now to make good minds of upright meaning conceive the troth, and in a manner marvel at the hap, and manliness of our people: I will first and foremost declare unto you, a victory gotten against the Count de Ringrave (albeit it falls not in order of the whole discourse) a man of great honour, and no little courage and conduct. Who governed his Camp and regiment, with as good policy and knowledge, as any man living in his days, and place of service.  
It fell out after the French were knit in union, and that both the Religions were bent against us (as in causes of dominion is always to be looked for) and so determining to say siege to New Haven, with all the power they could make. They sent this noble Count Ryngrave, to take a certain village not far from the Fort: in which village did encamp the whole regiment of the Ryngrave, when he had with some difficulty possessed it. The Earl of Warwick Lord Lieutenant for the Queen's Majesty, being careful of his charge, and watchful to prevent mischief: Scent out at Midnight captain read and some other bands, to hold the enemy some play, and bid them the base, and so in skirmish as the season and occasion would serve, they drove out a piece of the night, receiving little harm, and doing all the hurt they could devise.  
But my Lord Lieutenant beholding the boldness of the Ryngrave, and seeing how near he sought to nestle himself to New Haven, with such a power as peradventure, might have troubled the whole town. My Lord issued and went to the Fort, which stood a good distance from the Haven.  
And after my Lord had a while digested this business, and had well foreseen what might follow, if the enemy were suffered like a strong headed horse, to take the bridle in his teeth: my Lord called captain Read before him, and told him that the enemy must be removed. For by God's will qd he (as it is my Lords earnest word) if the Ryngrave lodge so near my charge, the one of us both shall take little rest, and so my Lord concluded, and fully determined that captain Read should have the leading of a thousand men, and go give a charge on the enemy. To which commandment captain Read willingly obeyed, whereupon captain Souche, captain Ward, captain Gam captain Somerset's Lieutenant, captain Apleyarde, captain Parkinson, captain Anttwesill, captain Wilfforde, and all their bands, were appointed to follow captain Reads order and direction, in as dutiful manner, as my Lord himself had had the leading of these bands and officers.  
Now it behoved captain Read to look well about him, and to set down a course and order to keep, firmly and advisedly, because he had not to deal with men of small value, nor people that before time had been ignorant, of the service in the field. Wherefore he sorted his soldiers, and placed them in the most assured and aptest manner, for the accomplishing of such an enterprise: divided them into that order, that one might answer an other, and the main battle should give relief to the whole company.  
But here is to be noted, that the enemies were thought very strong, and to the number of five or six thousand soldiers, French and Almains, who looked for some encounter, and were in battle closely set and knit together, at the entry of the village: having certain louse shot without the town, and some horsemen withal, ready to give a charge and take what advantage might be gotten.  
Fearing little, that our people would have ventured on their battle, and doubting nothing the victory, if so small a power as ours, durst put in hazard the fight, or offer to give the repulse.  
Well, in this dangerous and doubtful piece of service, captain Read being resolved, to try the uttermost of Fortune, and follow my Lords will and pleasure, who beheld all the exploit: With as great expedition as could be devised, he set captain Souche, captain Gam, captain Parkinson, and captain ward (men of good service, and ready to adventure for renown) as a wing on the left hand of his battle, to ply the enemy with shot, and in the battle and as occasion required, he placed captain Apleyard, captain Anttwesill, and captain Wilford. For to answer his hope with their manhood and diligence: and do that was convenient, in such a hot and courageous encounter.  
Now captain such and his company, made such haste to the service (this being at six a clock in the Morning) and had trotted so fast towards the enemies, that they were likely to have been out of breath, and in great peril: had they not been succoured with the foresight, and dexterity of captain Read. For he beholding the swiftness of the wing, and the necessity of the cause, began suddenly to mend his wonted march, and held a good pace and trot towards the village, having ever an eye and regard to bring on his people (which was the battle) always in good order and breath.  
But this haste and bold attempt was no sooner offered, but the enemy thought to prevent it, and so with such horseman as they had at hand, they charged our footmen, who were so strongly guarded with Pikes, that the horsemennes labour was lost, and some of them slain among the Pikes, they were so well joined, and clasped together.  
By this time went of all the small shot of the enemy's battle, and as God would (our men were come so near, that they were crept under the danger of the harquebus, by mean of a smother and smoke, that a great while before, the enemies shot and ours had made. For captain Read espying that advantage bad march apace, to come to the joining: so that through this occasion the enemy's shot did little, or no hurt at all.  
At this instant were our people even at the very entry of the village, and a French gentleman as seemed, beholding captain Read (the chief leader of our battle, marching before the rest) levied his piece at him, minding to have shot, but by travesing of ground, captain Read stayed the French man's hand, who stepped strait way behind a little wall (and at the entering into the Town) discharged his peaceful at the breast of captain read, the piece being charged with two bullets, but albeit it was so near, that the fire flew in his face, yet he was so well armed, that the shot but rent and broke his Armour, and did him no further hurt. Whereupon captain Read steps to the Frencheman, and so thrust him through with a Halberd: an other gentleman standing near this, offered to be taken prisoner: but captain Read minding to do that he came for, followed his enterprise, and charged on the battle of the enemy, that stood as stiff as a wall, till our men laid their Pikes lustily upon them, and by very fine force and push of the Pick, put them back, and caused them to wheel about. In which conflict six hundredth were slain, and nine score and three persons were taken, and brought away. The victory was followed a small season, with as much manhood as could be showed, and the enemy driven out of the village: But for the avoiding of such danger, as over far marching into a strange Country, as might have brought our men unto: captain Read with fame and victory, retired in very good order, and manner of the field.  
Now I pray you, was not this a piece of service, worthy the honouring, and because many at home, that never saw service abroad, sitting on soft cushions (and feels no hard fortune) doth descant of every man's doing: yet neither knows plainsong, nor understandeth measure. I have thought good to set out plainly such a piece of service (put in proof at new Haven) among the rest of services, as the ignorant babbler shallbe a shamed to speak against, and the man of knowledge shall honour, and hold in reputation, when he shall hear what troth hath reported. After captain Reed and his valiant companions (captains and soldiers) had given the Ringraves company an overthrow, there befell a second and a third days service: such and so nobly maintained and followed, as seldom hath been seen in any place of the world. And for the better understanding of the same, (and in praise of our English nation) I will rehearse it unto you orderly as it was, or at the lest wise as well as I can. The French stomackyng the overthrow lately spoken of, (and the Ringrave seeking a revenge) drew a draft to train our men out of the town, which were ready enough either for skirmish, or any other manner of enterprise: and to this service on the sudden, went out one master Charles Leighton, as leader of all our shot in the field, that day: this Charles was Sir Thomas Leightons brother then there, and now governor of Garnesey, on whose good service I could speak in like manner. But now to my former matter.  
The French side with as great a bravery, and order of war as might be, came lustily to provoke the skirmish, having certain bands of horse men for their guard, and great advantage: And our English Soldiers desirous to encounter, ran in upon their enemies so feercely, and with such a courageous charge, that nothing but smoke of shot, and flaming fire was seen between the two powers. And always master Charles Leighton (who was a most notable Soldier) kept his company in so warlike an order, that the horse men durst not charge them, albeit they made many an offer, and ran in upon our men sundry times, but they came so sparkled abroad, and so dangerously (without fastness of troop, and surety of force) that our armed Pikes had many of them at their pleasure: And our shot made great havoc among their chiefest Soldiers. But the manner of this fight was so Soldiourly handled, that those of the French side (being masters of that art) were learned a School point of skill, and took out a lesson worthy the noting. For those which they took for ignorant scholars, taught a new kind of conving, and showed an Artificial point of policy, and practice of war. Which was sometimes to retire upon fight, to draw the French forward, and there on to charge with the Pike in both the hands, interlarded with shot, sword, and Target, and came so gallantly to the push of the Pike, and blow of the sword (a volley of Harquebus shot of before) that the French and Almains thought, that our meinie had been rather dancing the Almain Hay, then travessing the ground to forsake the field, and retire into the Town, and albeit, it was in earnest for life and honour our Soldiers did strive, yet they made it but a sport, it was so lustily maintained, and so nobly handled. In the beginning of this skirmish, and when the service grew somewhat hot and furious (at which time divers stout gentlemen were come to the field) sir Humphrey Gilbart was hurt with the shot of a Harquebus. There were at this service sundry of our gentlemen, as master Thomas Gorge (now of the privy Chamber) master John Horssey, master John Souch and to be short, divers of good calling and reputation, which I must omit, for that an other days▪ service must be remembered, which was upon a Saterdaie, not long after this. Yea such a days service it was, as who so ever notes it well, shall find matter enough to talk, or writ of a long season: the manner whereof a little shall be touched, because such valiancy shall remain as a spectacle to look into, while the siege of new Haven can be remembered.  
Now as you have understood, the French and Almains desirous of honour, and to bring to pass that they came for, laid an ambush of horsemen and footmen privily for their purpose. And so a few of them about Dinner time, approached a trench that was fortified with barrels, (because the ground served for no other fortification) on the Peeble, and there our men withstood them to the uttermost: and issued out of the same trench divers times, with the force they had which was but small. The enemy seeing the Trench not sufficiently manned, waxed more bolder than they were wont, and so meant to drive our small power into the town: which was from the new devised Trench a good distance, and so determining and disbanding certain shot, and other apt Soldiers for such an exploit, they gallantly came forwards, and in a little season (yet with somewhat ado) they enjoyed the Trench, forcing our men to retire to their better advanntage and more surety. My Lord of Warwick beholding this broil, and bold attempt (not meaning that our men should either loose honour or ground) began to be somewhat moved in mind and for that he would beard the enemy, and know what his friends, and those good Soldiers under his charge would do. He called captain Horssey, now sir Edward Horssey Knight (and captain of the isle of Wight) and asked his advice in this matter: who answered my Lord, that he and his power, with the help and aid of master Francis Somerset's band, would drive the French out of the Trenches, and that right soon, if they that issued out of the town, followed good direction and order. My Lord Lieutenant agreed to this device: And so captain Horssey had the whole charge of this service, who marched towards the trenches, with great courage, and hope of victory. The enemy both at hand and far of, in the view of this attempt, framed themselves to defend and resist, that came to defeite them: and so on both the sides, a hot piece of service was put in proof, and no party was well, that might any way occupy weapon in that present action. But alway the French side with their forces (which were double, or triple our number) sought advantage, how to give a charge on our men with little loss: which captain Horssey had a good eye unto, and sought to prevent. For even as the enemy came lustily on to do mischief by horsemen, so our men met them a foot as stoutly, and seemed by running upon the French, rather to give an onset, then receive a charge, by which policy and manhood, the enemy was much amazed, and suffered some loss of horses, which could not be avoided, the push of the Pike was so well offered, and the fight so courageously maintained. Yet the French foot men so applied the service with shot, that our people needed more hands and help in the field: To the which aid my Lord sent sundry stout gentlemen, who did very valiantly, and continued the skirmish a long season, wherein one master Chidley, and some other of our side were slain.  
And the enemy seeing some advantage sent diverse horse men, to cut of our men from the Town, and were likely to have done great hurt, by mean that many of our Pikes were broken, and but a very few left whole to defend our Shot, and withstanding a charge. Master Thomas Gorge, with a small company of gentle men on horseback, beholding these things, came galloping into the field, and without any delaying of the matter, gave a charge on the enemy, and running in among the thickest of them, passed and pierced the whole troop, and returned back again in fight through the same power, with no little hazard nor honour. Yet in the neck of this, the French charged our Pikes a fresh, who met them in the faces, and made them retire: albeit the fury of the skirmish continued, and the enemies all this while gave not over the field (though they had lost the Trench they had possessed) nor showed no sign that they were weary, and would march away. Thus with much a do, and with great exercise of Arms and Martial attempts, a great part of the after noon was consumed: our men always keeping the field, till at length when our companies were come together, and were out of the danger of the great Shot, (which before could not be shot of, because our men were pelle melle) the Ordinance of the Town began to thunder and rattle in the air, and the Armed men of the enemies, either on horseback or a foot, began to shrink, and draw from the danger: notwithstanding many of them were slain at that season. And we had lost in the fight some gentlemen and good Soldiers, among the which was one master Treimain, who at many services was very forward before this time, and now with his forwardness and misfortune lost his life.  
So this service brought on by the Ryngrave, maintained by the French, and performed by the English, was then to be taken up, for want of better time to execute the things that all these nations expected.  
And here is to be noted, that the Ryngrave did what he could, the French did attempt that they might, & the English left no one thing undone, that was answerable to the tyme.  
For from the beginning that new Haven was possessed, to the very last day it was given up, our Soldiers never lay idle: but did always what become men of war with as great manhood, forecast, judgement, policy, and honour to England as could be devised. Never out of fear suspicion, hazard, and doubt to be betrayed: for the which occasion (and to be in some certainty) they were feign to remove the inhabitants out of the Town, which albeit it seemed a kind of hard dealing, & strait order, in good faith it could not be avoided, except our Nation should have put their necks into the yoke, and have been taught to draw (contrary to their minds) in a servile band of bondage.  
And this is to be spoken of, and much to the commendation of men that love their own country: that so soon as they saw and found, we went about to enjoy their Town, their Ships, their Lands, and such like things as they had before in their own possession. They forgot all kind of amity, friendship, favour, promise, and obedience unto us, and stuck so fast together, in one league of love among themselves, that the Papist and the Protestant, were both become our enemies, and although in Religion they differed far, and had committed many offences one against an other, in Town, in Church, and open field. Yet to drive us out of their kingdom, they were knit in one union. And albeit that the remembrance of old quarrels, might breed some heart burn, and be an occasion that they should not continue in friendship and fidelity, yet the hatred that they bore unto strangers (that they saw were masters of their goods) made them forget any former injury, and wrongs among themselves, and fall into one opinion, for the remediing of their present mischief. Which agreement of theirs, and neighbourly love in that necessity: may be left for an everlasting example to all posterity and ages, to procure every Nation to have in admiration and reverence, the liberties and honour of the soil they are borne in.  
Now as I have showed the overthrow, that captain Read and his company gave: the service that master Charles Leighton was the leader of: and the victory that sir Edward Horssey was at. So I must report and make mention of the good speeches that the French themselves let fall openly, in the commendation of our English Soldiers: by which good words it appeareth, that such as think not the best of the service at new Haven, do their Country men wrong. For as I have written a little, somewhat in their praise, so could I rehearse much more to their commendation. But I must make excuse presently, of a fault that follows ten lines after, which the printer should have placed at the overthrow the Ryngrave had. And yet I return to my matter, and say, that new Haven men were worthy to be spoken of: and should such Captains and Soldiers, escape the praise of the world, and the recital of my pen, no sure in very deed, and for that I have gone so far in their behalf, in this point of well doing, I mean as comes to my memory, to show sundry of their other services, and feats of war. Not only because every man aught to reap their due renown, for the painful labours they have taken: but also to animate and encourage others, to seek by dew desert, the like good mean and noble commendation, a thing more precious among men of war, than any other riches, or worldly pleasure.  
The Count de Ryngrave standing among a great troop of horsemen, a good way of, beholding this overthrow began to muse at the matter: and albeit he had lost many of his men (and his expectation being frustrate) he gave great commendation to the English Soldiers, and told the French, that they should themselves attempt the next approach. For he held the English nation other manner of men, than they were accounted, and said withal, he thought but to have dealt against Soldiers, but he had to do with the Furies of hell, or Spirits of the air. Such was the nobleness and good disposition of the Ryngrave, that he would give his enemy's fame, and eclipse no jot of honour from them, that well had deserved.  
Yea, this Ryngrave was such a noble warrior, that after the battle or skirmish was ended, or any piece of service was done, he would send flagons of wine to his enemies, and in time of truce, or breach of war (which he used often for honour's sake) he would make banquets, give gifts, show liberality, and be as courteous as a little child: And in the field a very Lion more like than a man, and yet a man of most sober judgement and knowledge.  
The whole Camp of the frenchmen came to a great hill, after the overthrow that the Ryngrave had, and fully bend to besiege New Haven: they made every day a new approach to the town, in most soldier-like sort and order, and to hold them in some awe, as our power might, many skirmishes were made, and good policy and courage was put in exercise, and nothing left undone, that either time or place would permit. But what should I further delate, of things past man's help and policy: when God's wrath and visitation doth cut of all arguments, and makes a quick dispatch of the matter. For the Plague was so sore in the Town, that many men in a rage did leap out of the windows, into the street: and such a general disease and despairing sickness, was spread throughout the whole company of soldiers, that no one stood in certainty of his own state or life. Such was the heat and fury of the fearful Pestilence, and grievous botch, a daunting malady, that takes away the use of wit, and courage of man.  
Well, albeit that this great mortality, and miserable state of life, might have utterly overthrown, the valliaunte minds of many good men: yet our people stood so stoutly to their defence, that many exploits were taken in hand, and they forced the enemy to make an offer unto them, of a noble composition, which of necessity must be taken (all things considered) for there was no succour to be hoped, for to come out of England. And some that were sent thither, as sir Thomas Finche, and diverse other gentlemen, were cast away by the sea, and presently drowned.  
Then noble captain Randall (who can not have to much fame) who after was slain in Ireland, was appointed by the Lord Lieutenant, to tarry behind when the Town was yielded up: to see all conditions and capitulations performed, which were but slackly handled, and looked unto by the French, and yet in effect our soldiers (with as much honour as men in their plight could have) came home, and brought much ordinance and goods with them. But they had so great a plague still among them, that many here at their arrival, departed this world.  
This was but a piece of the service, that captain Read was at in his days: for his most pains hath been taken about the wars of Scotland, and roads made into that Country: where he hath borne himself so well, and that a long season, that all those who knows the same (or can call the service to memory) giveth good report thereof, and speaketh much to the advancement of his good name.  
And seeing that in 〈◊〉 praise and others, my pen hath gone so far, I will ● touch the services of sir William Winter, who both by land and Sea, hath often been employed. And in the rehearsal of some part of his doings, I will as I may make mention of sir William Drewrie, sir Humphrey Gilbart, sir William Morgane, Captain Barkley, captain Morgane, captain Chester, captain Bingham, and sundry that of late days hath been in divers places of danger, and good services. But this is to be looked for, that the honourable sir james Croftes (now Controller of the Queen's majesties household) sir John Wallop, sir james Wilfforde, and sir John Bellyngame, be not forgotten, and that every one of these, as remembrance shall serve me, be briefly spoken of. For if at large I touched some of their noble exploits, (that last I have made mention of) I should make a great volume of the same, and so seem to writ a Chronicle, that means but to treat of a few passages, for the passing of the time, and the pleasuring of my friends.  
The services of sir james Croftes, may well be understood, if you look into the siege of Bullein: The wars of Scotland, and the troublesome affairs of Ireland, where he was Lord deputy. And who that looketh deeply in the managing of those matters, shall justly of himself, yield due honour to the person that hath taken these pains, without the report of my pen, or further publishing of the same.  
Sir John Wallop that long remained governor of Gines: and the service of the good knight Bellyngame, once lord Deputy of Ireland, are of no little moment. For the one had such a hurt by a counter buff that he got at Laundersey, that he carried it to his death (albeit he lived long after, and did many great things) and the other was given to such valiantness (as his doings do declare) that in a manner we can not imagine more worthiness in two men, nor rightly attribute unto them, the glory they deserve.  
If never any service but the siege of Haddyngton were spoken of, it were sufficient enough, and a witness great to show the great mind, and manly courage of sir james Wilfforde. For he being there as general, held out the force of France, and power of Scotland: the Queen mother looking and lying at the siege, and the Town was so battered and beaten, that men on horseback might have ridden over the breach. Yet notwithstanding, besides a number of other great causes, to make men rander a Fort, sir james Wilfforde kept the enemies out: and did so nobly every way, neither scarcity of victual, nor want of powder could move his invincible mind. For the more was the misery, the greater grew his heart, and hope to have good Fortune: for the which assured fortitude and determinate purpose, he purchased everlasting renown. And lives at this day in as fresh memory, as he were seen presently before the eyes of the people.  
In that season was a place called Donglasse at our devotion, where one master Aston was placed, and an other fort beyond Fiffeside called Broghttie Crag, where sir John Luttrell did serve very valliauntely a long time. And at a Town near the same Fort called Dondie, Sir William Winter and others, did a great piece of service, worthy the rehearsal. But for that Broghttie Crag was at the length lost, for lack of succour out of England, I leave out much matter, that otherwise I had written.  
After the Siege of Haddyngton was raised, and the French had withdrawn their battery, and the old Earl of Shrewesburie was come with an army, and lay at a place called Abberladie. The Earl of Linkcolne that now is, being Lord Admiral, landed a great company of soldiers at a Pile called saint Minius, where our Fortune was but froward: and for that I was taken prisoner there, and our people had no great good hap: It shall remain untouched any further.  
A little before this, between Tom talent and the Base some French Galleys were placed, and three of our Ships lying in view of them, (the Antelope, the Heart, and the Grand Mistress, so were the three Ships called) hoissed up Sails to fight with the Galleys, which were two and twenty in number: but there befell such a misfortune by casting about to fetch aboard, that our Ships fell one in other's tackle, and were so hard clasped together, through mean of mischance, that they might not shoot at advantage, to annoy the enemy. Who espying this opportunity, came orderly forward, and shot many shot of Cannons among us, breaking down a Mast or two, and kill a few persons. But in the end the Ships were set free, and my Lord Admiral had sent to our succours, and the calm was gone, in so much that the gale of Wind blue our ships full upon the Galleys, which the French being in fear of, drew apace towards the Shore, and ran their Galleys on ground. But ere they could depart out of our danger, we were so near them, that our Bow men shot into their Galleys, and our Cannons made a great murder, and havoc among the poor slaves, whose legs arms, and Oars I saw fly about, as the force of our shot might attain them.  
These Galleys hoping to keep victual from Broghttie Crag, crept a long by the Shore, and encountered a Ship wherein was captain Peers (now serving in Ireland, and then a venturer) and laid so sore to his charge that they shot his Ensign through and through, and were like to have bouged the Ship, but he minding more his reputation, then regarding the hazard he was in, plied the Galleys so well, that they durst not approach over near, and so in the mean while came a lusty gale of wind, and sent captain Peers from the French Galleys, to his great safety, and the comfort of his friends and country men.  
Our Ships manned forth Boats, and set upon diverse sails that lay in Bornte Island, and so spoiled them, and left them on a flaming fire: and thereon rowed towards a mighty great Carack, that lay under the succour of Ynchskeeths, and boarded the same Carack, and so burned it: the fire whereof discharged many great shot in the said Ship, before our men could come aboard again, but that shot did little hurt at all: and our Navy in the mean season, lay in the mouth of the Frithe, not far from an Island called the Maay.  
Within a short while after, was there a lusty gentleman (and a serviceable) sent to take Yntchskeeths, his name was master John Cotton, a captain of good account, he landed and variantly took the Island, but when our Ships departed from the Frithe, the French and Scots men entered the Island again, and recovered it to our great discontent: in which fury and fight Captain Cotton was slain, albeit he did what become a man of stout heart and courage, and fought it out to the last man in his company: which made the enemies marvel, considering they were void of hope to be succoured and relieved.  
The Scots and frenchmen taking a great despite, to go without Haddyngton lying so long before it, determined in a morning to assail it manfully, and to try what Fortune and force of men might compass. So the Ryngrave and numbers of the French side, came privily from Edinburgh, and set upon the base court of Haddyngton, and in very deed were likely to have distressed the Town, if good watch and circumspection had not prevented that approach. For the enemies were in the base Court, and began to glory much of their conquest, but one gave fire to a great piece that stood full of hailshot, at the entry of the gate, and slew diverse of the enemies, whereat our men issued and dealt so variantly with the enemy that they retired, and lost all their labour. At this time either sir james A Croftes was general there, or anon after. For Sir james Wilfforde was either before taken prisoner at Donbarre, or within a short season after. But how so ever that case standeth, the soldiers of Haddyngton kept the town, and wan such fame thereby, that to this present age they are spoken of and honoured.  
While these things were in doing, time rolled on, and produced further matter. For the wheel turned, and Fortune so frouned at our prosperity, that the world began to fall to declination, and so Haddyngton was razed, and left to those that would possess it, and the French having some hope, to recover what they lost before, took occasion offered by some sudden alteration, and common course of worldly affairs, and thereupon they besieged Bullein Bark, the old Man, and many other members belonging to Bullein, and a great captain called Mounsire de Terms was in Scotland, preparing to besiege Lawther Forte, where Sir Hugh Willoughby had government, with whom was captain Colbie, captain Manering, captain Haeles, captain Whitton, captain Collier, captain Knapp and others, whose names I have forgot, albeit I was then there newly escaped out of Scotland. The said Mounsire de Terms lay a long Mile (with his whole Camp) from Lawtherfort, and we to make him sport, devised that some lusty gentlemen, should clapp on white scarves, and so ride like Scots men into the enemy's Camp, which we performed, and slew diverse in the Market place, and came away untouched. And not content with this little attempt (for among our companies were soldiers of Haddyngton) we daily offered to skirmish, when in the field was always to encounter us five to one of as good Soldiers, as then were to be found in France. But our hope and forwardness was such, that every second day, we did somewhat worthy the meeting: and at this service came one John Carr of Work (a valliaunte old captain, and a special Soldiers in those parts) and brought hard Cheese and powder to us. For the eating of Horses did argue, hard Cheese was as welcome as powder: yet none of them both might be spared in that extremity.  
Mounsire de Terms being desirous of victory, determined to come with Ladders, and so to scale the fort, whereof we had word, and prepared to receive him with an unfriendly welcome: and for that we found he broke his day, and would wax weary of rest, by long lying idle in a place. The General caused all the great Ordinance of the fort, to be bent fully upon Determes his Camp (captain Mannering in deed put that device in head and practice first) and early in the morning on an Easter day, the whole great artillery was discharged on Determes his Camp, which slew diverse, and so vexed the Camp: that as you see a number of Crows fly out of a wood, when a harquebus is shot of, so the frenchmen came out of their Hive, that yieldeth no Honey, and gave us a sour and sharp encounter. For in a small season they drove us out of the field, and gave an attempt to win the base Court, where we attended their coming, and strove with them so stoutly, that in that struggle we were joined, and wrestled together, as dangerously as any man living may imagine, but in such order, that the French were forced to retire a little, and we were feign to recover the Fort: and yet the French so variantly handled their business, that they lay under the rampire of the Base court, and slew sundry of our soldiers, that could not in due season come in. Among the chief captain Mannering had his deaths wound, and fell down in the dike before the gate: whose body we recovered with very little loss, but he died within three days after. And the French missing that they sought, retired that present night to their Camp: where they abode not ten days, but a peace was concluded, and we marched all towards Berwick.  
Now here is to be noted, that in those days we had great soldiers a live, and most of them at Berwick, as captain Honte, captain Sanders, captain Thames, captain Pickman, and very many others of good experience and credit.  
Now I must leave to your judgements (and reading of other books) the wars of Scotland, and will show you of some services that happened in Ireland, during the time that sir Anthony Sellinger was Lord deputy there who was a grave and fatherly wise governor, and had much a do in that country, to bring things in good perfection and quietness. For the Lords of that soil, were at that presence given to sundry troublesome practices, whom he reformed, and set in very peaceable estate: among the rest was one Makarttie Moore, which held out a great season, but the Lord deputy going against him with an army, made him come in at Cork, where upon his humble submission, I saw him bear the sword before the Lord deputy. Yet albeit, that in this and many other services, sir Anthony Sellinger at several times, deserved great commendation (he being a knight of the Garter) yet his fortune was so adverse and contrary, that he was seldom at home in his Country out of trouble, and danger of displeasure, and felt as many have done (that governed Ireland) the self same plague that Scipio Affricane possessed for his praise, the grief whereof brought sir Anthony to his grave: as the works I could show of his one penning can testify. For this honourable knight had an excellent gift to writ in verse or prose, and was of so tractable a nature and condition, that most men did honour him, as much for his virtues, as for his office and calling. But my matter dependeth not only in one man's merits or praise: wherefore I do pass to other things, that cometh to my mind.  
In Ireland at those days was the noble captain Randall, captain Masterson, captain Lippiarde, captain Thomas Smith, Captain Coolley, and a number of other Captains that now are out of my remembrance, who for service and well doing, are nothing inferior to many good Captains that I have named before.  
The honourable sir james A Crofttes was Lord Deputy of Ireland (and had taken the sword at Cork of sir Anthony Sellinger) at this season when many great things was to be done: And he had no small regard to his charge and government, the services themselves, are sufficient argument of his no little labour and diligence, and may well enough declare that which I omit, and for want of laisure do not speak of.  
Now the wars burst out between the French king and the Emperor, on whose sides sundry English gentlemen, served for knowledge sake, and reputation. And on the French side did captain Crayer, captain Twittie and their company flourish, and did many exploits, as in an other place of my book I have reported. And on the emperors side was captain Plonket, captain Matson, and a great number of very valiant soldiers of our nation, who sought nothing but credit, renown, and good report. Sir William Drewrie (now Lord justice of Ireland) was then so gallantly disposed, that he did but daily search where, or how he might bestow his time in service, and so served a long season, to his great commendation with the Emperor, as heretofore I have rehearsed. And he was so inclined to Marshall affairs, that when foreign wars were ended, he sought entertainment at Gines and those parts, which had war with the French, for king Phillippes quarrel. And he having charge, and a lusty band of horsemen did many things, that merits good liking. For at that time was much ado, and a band of horsemen very well appointed, and full of gentlemen, was sent from the lord Warden, an honourable and a worthy gentleman, (most full of nobleness) the Lord Cheinees father now living. In this band, and belonging to that charge, was sundry of the Keises, gentlemen of good service, master Crippes having the leading of all that company. There was sent in like sort from the Prince, Master William Harbertes brother of saint Gillian's, called master George Harbertte, with a band of footmen, and one captain Born whose Lieutenant I was, at the siege of Gines.  
These bands a good season before Calais and Gines were taken, joining with other bands of Calais, did make diverse journeys into Bollinnoyes, and sped very well: Sir William Dreurie at every service, deserved no little praise, and one captain Winnibancke an ancient soldier, was oftentimes so forward, that he was run once through the buttock with a Lance: Many gentlemen in those services did well and worthily: And sundry times the Lord Wardens band was to be praised. And at length a voyage was made by the consent, and whole power of Calais and Gines, to fetch a prey from Bolleyn gates (Mounsire Snarppoule then being governor of Bolleyn) but we could not handle the matter so privily, but the French by espial, had gotten word thereof. Notwithstanding, as Soldiers commonly goes forward with their devise: so we marched secretly all the whole night, to come to our purposed enterprise: and our footmen whereof sir Harry Palmer (a man of great experience) had the leading. He remained with the whole power of footmen near the Black Nests, as a stolen to annoy the enemy, and secure for such as were driven in, if any such occasion came. So the horse bands broke into the Country, and pressed near Bollayne, where was a great number of gallant soldiers to receive them? but our horsemen making small account of the matter, began to pray the country, and drive a booty from the face of the enemies. The French horsemen taking their advantage, offered a skirmish to detract time, till better opportunity served to give a charge. This courageous bickering grew so hot, that the French bands began to show, and our men must abide a shock, or retire hardly with some foil, whereupon the chiefest of our horsemen, charged those of the French that were nearest danger, by which attempt the French stayed a while, but upon a small pause they charged our men again, and overthrew of the Black Lances a thirty, carrying away with them into Bulleyne, eighteen gentlemen prisoners. This skirmish began at seven of the clock in the morning, and lasted in very great service till a leaven. And from this overthrow came diverse Soldiers fore wounded, to our foot bands whose heaviness made the valliaunte sort pluck up their hearts, and seek a revenge.  
Then albeit that foot Captains and Gentlemen, seldom leaves their bands, and venter's beyond their charge (a rule to be much regarded) yet the stoutest Captains and Gentlemen, found means to horse themselves on Cart horses, and victuallers nags, and put certain scarves, in manner of Guidons on staves ends, showing those Guidons under a hill in several sorts, sometimes appearing with twenty men, sometimes thirty: and last of all made show of all our number, which was not fifty, and so with a courageous cry, set upon the enemies (leaving some of these devised Guidons behind on the hill top) and charged them with such a fury, that they left their booty, and stood to their defence, but in fine were forced to retire, for by the little stay we held the enemy in, our footmen had laisure to march, the sound of whose Drums gave no great courage to the French. For they thereon gave back, and left some of their best soldiers behind them, which we brought to Gines, driving the prey before us, that was gotten in the morning, lost in a skirmish, and recovered again at Noon. At this service was Sir William Druerie, captain Alexander of Newnam Bridge, captain Crippes, captain Reyes, and three of his brethren, captain George Harbert, and sundry others in like manner, that merits good report.  
Our power met many times together, and did much hurt at Bolleynnoyes: and we besieged Fines Castle and wan it. Blosshing Church, and overthrew it, and killed all the men that therein we found: because sir Harry Palmer was hurt through the arm there with a shot.  
A long season our fortune was good, till at length by some oversight or mishap (let the blame faule where it aught) we lost Calais, and Gines. But a little I pray you give me leave, to touch truly the siege of Gines, not because I had some charge there: But for that sundry reports hath been raised thereof, by those that never throughlie knew, or understood the matter. The very troth is, after Calais was won, and that all hope was taken from us, for any succour out of England, our general the honourable Lord Greye that is dead, and master Leawes Dive his Lieutenant, sir Harry Palmer, and all the Captains of Gines: Determined to abide the worst that Fortune, or the French could do. And the day of the first approach the enemy made, we offered a hot and stout skirmish, but being driven in by an over great power (though our whole people were thirteen hundredth men) we keep the Town awhile. But considering the Castle to be most strongest, and doubting by a Camisade, or sudden assault, the town might be won (for it was but weak) we retired our whole power into the Castle, and so manned the base Court, the Braies, an Bulwarks, the Keep, the Cat, the heart of the Castle, and all that was necessary with double men. And out of Flaunders at the present siege, came fifty valiant Spaniards, and a band of Burgonions, Mounsire Dieffkie being their captain, and Mounsire Mon Dragon was leader of the Spaniards. These Burgonions were placed in Mary Bulwark with captain Bornes' band, whose Lieutenant I was. The fifty Spaniards were placed in the Braies, where captain Lambert had some shot to secure them. Against this Bulwark (which was thought inprenable) the great Battery was planted, albeit three or four days were spent (we held the enemies such play) before the Battery was planted.  
And one day we issued, and set upon Mounsire Degwyes, as he was in a place called Milfeelde, viewing of the ground, and had taken him had not he left his cloak behind him, on the which white cloak, one of our gentlemen had hold of: And though that he was succoured, we brought away some of his company, and retired with little loss, or none at all. We set upon a great troop of horsemen, not long before this, that came from the spoil of Calais, and took numbers of them. For I had for my part, a couple of fair horses and a prisoner: at both these services was old captain Andrea, captain John Savage, and a sufficient number of lusty Soldiers. And the Lord Gray that now is, was at the hard escape of Mounsire Degwies.  
We made diverse sallies, but that prevailed not, for the Battery went of, and many other great Cannons did beat at the high Towers, the stones whereof did marvelously annoy us: and the shot was so great, and such great advantage of ground the enemies had gotten, that we could not walk, nor go safely no any way within the Castle. For our general and sir Harry Palmer sitting on a form, devising for our commodity, were in such danger, that a Cannon shot took away the form, and broke sir Harry Palmer's leg (of which hurt he died in Parice after) and a great shot took of master Wakes head, as he was sleeping under a great Tree. And so sundry that thought themselves safe, were so dribbed at with Cannot shot, that they never knew who did hurt them. Well, the time drew on after the breach was made, we must defend the assault, that was given to Mary Bulwark, which stood out of the Castle, and far from succour of any, because the gate was rammed up, and we could not pass into the Castle but by that way. first a long the Braies, and then between two gates, which way the enemy had espied, and placed many great shot full upon that passage.  
Now Mounsire Diffkie, captain Born, captain Oswolde Lambertt, and the fifty spaniards, were forced to abide the assault, which began at a leaven a Clock, and lasted till night. Mount Dragon came into Mary Bulwark, and three gentlemen more, and stood stoutly to our defence, two of them were slain. My Captains' head was smitten of with a Cannon's shot, and captain Diffkie was wounded to the death, whose band fought manfully in the revenge of their Captain, and unto our band was left no more but one master Holford, and I to guide the whole company. And the old captain Andrea, covetous of Fame, was desirous to have our fellowship: but he had no band nor people to do us pleasure. captain Lambert was crossed with a great shot, and mine armour with the breaking of a great piece, was stricken flat upon my body, but being unbraced I might continued the service: which service in mine opinion, was so terribly handled by the French, (Mounsire Dandelot being the leader of the assault) that both English, Burgonion, and Spaniard at that Bulwark had enough to do to keep the enemy out. And as I believe at this assault, we lost a hundredth and fifty good soldiers: but the night coming on, the French surceased their fury, and yet kept themselves closely under the top of the breach, where our shot nor flankers could do them no harm. For all our great Ordinance was dismounted long before the enemy made any approach, for the giving of an assault.  
The next day within three half hours, the Battery had beaten the breach so bore (which moulded away like a hillock of Sande) that we were forced to fight on our knees, and being kept waking all the night before, with false Alarums, our men began to faint, and wax weary of working at the breach. But we defended Mary Bulwark so well, all that dangerous day, that the French lost a thousand Soldiers by their own confession, at the same service: and yet the assault endured to the very dark night, with as much cruelty as could be devised. And always when the enemies first men, did wax feeble with labour, there was a second and new relief of fresh bands, to continued the assault. So that as long as the day light served, it seemed by the fight a bloody broil hath no end, nor season to take breath in, which certainly would have daunted any heart living.  
The next night was so plied with politic practices, that we had scarcely leisure to take any rest, or sustentation: and in deed with over watching, some of our men fell a sleep in the middle of their tale, and time of greatest necessity, to debate and argue of those things, that pertained to life and liberty, and to avoid utter servitude and shame. And now we that were without the Castle, might hear a great business and stir, throughout the whole body and heart of the piece. For the next morning (which was the third day, we were assaulted) our general looked for a general assault, and to be assailed roundly, as of troth he was. In the mean while we might speak one to an other▪ a far of, and our friends answered us over the wall: for nearer together we might not come, and for succour or aid in Mary Bulwark to our soldiers we hoped not after. Every man was occupied with his own business and charge, that no one person might be spared from his place. Well, as God would permit, the poor Spaniards, and such Burgonions (as was left us a live in Mary bulwark) fell to make a counter scarf to beat out the enemy from the Braie, when the Bulwark should be won, as it was likely to be lost, the breach was so bore, and the entry for the enemy was so large. For in a manner they might assault our Bulwark round about on all sides, and did lodge at the very edge of the breach, to the number of two thousand of their bravest bands, minding to assail us, as soon as the day began to peep out of the skies.  
Which they performed when the third day approached, for a general assault was given to every place of the Castle which assault endured till the very night came on, and the French in this assault wan the base Court, and were ready to set fire under the gate, and blow it up with powder. And Mounsire Dandelot his own person, was entered Marry Bulwark, with two thousand soldiers, who slew the Spaniards in the Braie, and forced as many Burgonions and English as was left alive (which was but fifteen of four hundred) to leap down into the Dikes, and so to scamble for their lives, and creep into a hole of a brick wall: that my Lord Grate had broken up, to receive such as escaped from the assault, which was captain Andrea, captain Lambert, and myself with twelve common Soldiers. But when we had entered the hole in the wall, the French followed at our heels, and we to save our lives turned again, bending Pikes against the passage, and so shot of one Harquebus, by which means the enemy followed no further: And yet we were in as great distress as before. For we were between two gates, and at the gate we should have entered, was two great Cannons ready charged to be shot of, to drive them back that would have set fire on the gate. And the cry and noise was so great, and terrible on all sides, that we could not be hard speak. But as God would master Lewes Dive (a man of warship now in Bedforde Shire) hears my voice, than I plied the matter so sore for life, so that with much a do, master Dive received us into the heart of the Castle: and yet in the opening of the gate, the French were like to enter pelley melley with us, if a Cannot shot had not made place, whiles the gate was a shutting. But now we were no sooner come before my Lord Gray, but all the soldiers cried, yield up the Castle upon some reasonable composition. And when the Soldiers saw, they could not have the Castle yielded: they threatened to fling my Lord Gray over the walls, and that was determined, if my Lord had not prevented them with a policy. Whereupon the Captains were called together, and there they agreed, to send me to Mounsire Degwise with an offer, that if we might all march with bag and baggage, Ensign displayed, and six pieces of Ordinance, we would yield the Castle into the hands of the French. Now was it night, and I must be let out at master Harry Norwitche his Bulwark: but neither Drum nor Trumpet went with me, because a Trumpeter was slain, as he sounded to have a parley, and as I heard say, a Drum that would have followed me, was shot into the leg. But there was no remedy, but I must wade over the water: in which water lay certain galthrops, as they term them, which were great boards, full of long spikes of Iron, on the which having good boots, and a stay in my hand, I was taught daintily to tread, and the night was so dark, that the enemy might not take any good mark of me, (albeit they shot diverse times) so with some hazard, and no great hope to attain that I was sent for, I was taken by the watch, and brought to Mounsire Degwises tent, where duke D'omale, and many great estates were in presence, my message being said, with decent reverence made. The Duke told me that all our Ordinance was dismounted, and that thereby our malice was cut of, and we could not do his Camp any annoyance: Wherefore said he, this was a stout brag, to seek a capitulation with such advantage upon. I replied to his excellency, and told that we had flankers, and other great pieces, which would not be discovered till the next assault, declaring likewise our soldiers had sworn, rather to die in their defence, than not to march away like men of war. The noble men on this mine answer bad me return, and will the rest of the Castle, to do the worst they could: So I departed, and the Duke of Gwise beholding (as he thought) we were resolved to see the uttermost of Fortune, called me back again, and fell to questions and arguments with me, such as I liked not. But other answer did I not make, then before you have heard: wherewith he called for some meat, and made me to sit down, and after I had a little refreshed myself, I demanded to know his pleasure: Who strait ways told me there was no help to be had, but to become all captives, and prisoners to the French king: Not so sir, I answered, and that should the next assault make trial thereof. Then he went to talk with the noble men, and there they concluded, that the soldiers should march away with bag and baggage, and the captains and officers should remain prisoners, which I knew would not be liked, and so desired to be sent to my Lord Gray. But when I came into the Castle, and the soldiers had gotten word, that they might march away at their will: They came to me, and threatened me with great words, commanding to make dispatch, and yield up the Fort. For said they, since the matter is in talk, and likely to be brought to a good purpose, they would cut my throat, if I made not hastily an end of the case. And thereon had they made a great hole in a wall, and so they thrust me out among the Almains, who rudely handled me. But my Lord Gray at my departure, bad me tell the Duke, that the Almains were about to break into the Castle, and to set the gate a fire: and my Lord said, he would shoot of his great Ordinance among them, if the law of Arms were not better observed. But in the mean time at an other place was entered Mounsire de Tre, master of the Ordinance, and the Lord Gray that now is, was sent into the Camp, for the pawn of Mounsire De Tre. But I was come to Mounsire Degwise, before those things were finished, and had told him my message: And he like a noble Prince, and faithful captain road to the gate (causing me to mount behind master Harry Dudley) where the Almains were busily occupied about some naughty practice: and with a great truncheon he struck divers of the Almains and others, to make them retire, and laying load about him, he made such way that the gate was free. And the capitulation was at leisure talked of, but I was not suffered to enter no more into the Castle: and so stayed as a prisoner, notwithstanding, look what promise Mounsire Degwise made, it was so well kept and observed, that our soldiers marched away with all their wealth, money, or weapons: And great wealth was by them borne from Gines, in so much that divers poor Soldiers, were made thereby all their life days after. And this was to be noted, there was great honour in the Duke of Gwise, for the bands that parted either sick or sound, hurt or whole, were honestly conveyed, and truly dealt withal, even as long as they were in any danger (albeit they had great sums of money and Treasure with them) and the General, his Captains and Officers were courteously used, so long as we were in the Duke of Gwise his Campe. And to say the truth, I think our peace was not so dishonourable, as some report: For succour had we no hope of: The next assault had overthrown us: The whole members of the Castle were cut of from us. There remained but the bore body of the Castle in our custody. The enemy's Cannons did beat us from the breach on the in side: The Castle was subject to every shot, both from the Keep, the Cat, and Mary Bulwark. The French possessed all the special places of our strength and comfort. The best and chiefest of our soldiers were slain, or lay maimed in most miserable estate. And we had lost eight hundredth men, in these assaults and services, which did their duty so well, that the enemy confessed, that they had lost four thousand, before we could be brought to any parley and composition. But some of our Officers by craft and cunning, escaped home out of the French men's hands: came to the Court, and made up their bands again, to the great reproach of those that meant no such matter: and so by that subtlety and shift, they that escaped got a pay, or some reward of the prince. And those that abode out the brunt, and hazard of the bloody broil, were left in prison: and the world thought by seeing so many come home, we had lost but a few at the siege of Gynes. Which is otherwise to be proved, and affirmed for a troth, when true trial shallbe made.  
Calais was lost before, I can not declare how, but well I wot Sir Anthony Ager a stout gentleman, and a valliaunte knight there lost his life, and one captain Saul was terrible burnt with powder, in making a train to destroy the enemy.  
Now leaving of these uncomfortable discourses, I will show what gentlemen of ours after, served in sundry soils where many great Princes were in daily exercises of war, and many great victories and exploits were to be seen, and though I writ not the journeys in right order, as one that writes a Chronicle may do, yet the matter I writ of shallbe so true, that it shallbe needless to show what season, the causes were put in practice, or make mention in due order of the date and time, of such noble enterprises, for your common Chronicles can sufficiently satisfy you in those points.  
The services on the Sea I do set apart by them selves, and so here I proceed in some matter, which toucheth a piece of the business of Flaunders and France, where divers of our gentlemen were, and beheld many great exploits.  
Now is to be noted, that M. Henry Champernowne of Devonshire, after his return from the wars of Hungary served in the cause of the Protestants of France, of his own proper charges in the second Civil wars, with xii. gentlemen or more. And in the third Civil wars after the battle of jarnag, he served with an hundred men of his own proper costs. Likewise accompanied and followed these gentlemen, Edward Barkley, Philip Budsed, Gawine Champernowne, Richard Kirkam, Walter Rawley, Carro Rawley, Ranoldes, Hugh Udall, Thomas Courtney, William font, Richard Keyes, William Walwing, Thomas Atkins and others, whereof some returned after the death of the old Prince of Conde. But master Henry Champernowne, as one desirous of renown, and greedy of glory gotten by service, remained till his death, where lively fame was to be won: and served so nobly and so gallantly, as the whole Camp where he was in, sounded of his valiantness, and many of those gentlemen that he brought with him, augmented so much his fame, that to this day his deeds and theirs, are most nobly spoken of, greatly to the honour of all our English Nation. For his gentlemen (or the most part of them) lost their lives with their captain, much is to be said in this matter. But I must return to give others their due praise: that served in France and Flaunders, in these perilous times, and days of no little danger.  
Among the rest I find, that Sir William Morgane was one: For he came on his own voluntary will and charges, with the young Brickamone (and a few other French gentlemen) to a town called Vallencia, and at their entry, which was on a Sondaie morning, the Spaniards that held the Castle issued, and thought to expulse both French and Burgonions out of the Town. And in deed the common soldiers having small heart to maintain their quarrel, began to shrink. But the French gentlemen, and sir William Morgan gave a charge on the Spaniards (after a long skirmish and much ado) and drove them into the Castle, and followed the spaniards so fast, that they set a fire the draw bridge, because by that means they thought that the Spaniards should make no more sallies, to assail the Town.  
Upon this service sir William Morgan (by the governor of Vallencia) had a goodly gentleman's house given him, stuffed with goods, and furnished with Wines and victual for a long year, that might have served his people and him: if his hap had been there to have remained. But the Grave Lodowick sent for Sir William, to come unto Mowns in Henault, and after he had been there but a week he had the Threasurers' house, and all his substance delivered him.  
The Duke of Alva besieged this Town, where many great skirmishes and services, were offered on both the sides, albeit the Duke's power did far exceed the Count de Lodwickes', yet every day the soldiers of the Town did the uttermost they could, to disquiet the Dukes Campe. And undoubtedly the valiancy and courage, of them that were besieged, was so great and so noble, that their very enemies commended them for the same. For it was no ordinary manner of service they did show, but rather a new devised exercise of war, to make the assailants as much astonished at their enemy's stoutness, as take any hope to win the Town by any advantage might be espied. And in this manner of service the time was spent along season, to the everlasting praise and fame of those, that stood in the Towns defence.  
Sir William Morgan was not idle, in no one piece of all these bickering, and at the length beheld the coming of the Prince of Orranges' power of horsemen; whose power encountering with the Duke of Alua's force, in a morning betimes continued in skirmish, till three a clock in the after noon: and so with the loss and slaughter of eight or nine hundred men, the two forces did departed and severed.  
The Prince of Orrange thus marching away, had given occasion to the Duke to follow, or go about some policy: and after at a place called Saint Gilling, the Duke's force gave a great overthrow, to the Prince of Oranges side. Which conflict did argue, there was no hope of succours, to be looked for from the Prince, at that present necessity: and Mowns standing in this extreme danger, and being not well furnished with things, that pertained to a long siege, (besides their General Count de Lodowick was sick) the Soldiers and Towns men began to give ear to a parley, and so a peace was concluded, on a strait composition: which was that all the Soldiers in the Town (saving a few Almains with the Count de Lodowick, and himself) should swear never after to bear armour against the king of Spain, or of France.  
Sir William Morgan hearing of that oath, required rather death, then to make a promise past the compass of his allegiance, and duty to his own Country: and said, that he would never condescend to such a strait composition, though life and all he had, lay upon the refuse thereof. Whereupon a new parley and communication was had, and there the Duke granted sir William Morgan, and those englishmen he had with him, to march away in the same order and liberty of mind, that the Count de Locwick and his Almains had obtained.  
The Town being rendered into the hands of the duke of Aluae, there were that persuaded sir William, to leave the company of the Count de Lodowick, because it was presupposed that he should be slain, or scape hardly from the Duke. But sir William beholding the honourable dealings of the Count (and especting the regard that the Duke aught to have to the law of Arms, and performance of a Prince's promise) determined to put all to the hazard of Fortune, and to follow the Count de Lodowick, who marched safely toward the Prince. Such was the faithfulness and usage of the Duke at that season: that the Count tame to his brother the Prince, at his will and pleasure, who lay with an army at Riermont. The frenchmen had forsaken the company of the Count before, and had procured that a passport, should be given to sir William Morgan, to pass through Flaunders by julian Romeroes' friendship, a gallant ancient man of war. But Sir William refusing that courtesy, came with the Count to Riermounte, where the Prince embraced him. And after the Prince's Camp was dispersed, he had sir William to his brother in Law, called the Count de Bergges, and so to West Frese land, Holland, and many other parts that the Prince had then in possession. And in sundry of these soils saving in Holland, sir William Morgan served with ten great horses at his own charges. For that he was the queens majesties servant, and would not be bound for wages, neither to pass the bounds of his duty, nor to tarry a longer term in a foreign country, then good cause might command him. So thus much have I thought good to writ of, in the behalf of those that willingly, have offered themselves to services, worthy commendation.  
Sir Humphrey Gilbart in this season (with a good number of soldiers, and English gentlemen) was at Floshing and served well in those parts: and one captain Morgan and master Cotton a Pensioner, did their duty so thoroughly, that much was spoken of their praise: at which service one captain Bowsar, and a valliaunte gentleman called master Mackwillyam were slain, with sundry others of our nation, that did no whit forget the former fame of our ancient predecessors and countrymen. And those that lived and served there at that time, were well paid: For the Floshyngars had drawn many a good hand of the Spanish Fleet, and were become wealthy with the spoils, they had by hazard gotten.  
I have made mention of the going of the Earl of Essex into Ireland, that fell out anon after this season, with whom was sir William Morgan, master Henry Bronkar, captain Barkley, and sundry other gentlemen, that endured to the end of all the services, to their great charges, hazard and pains. And for that I do but briefly touch those things, and have spoken on them heretofore, I commend the length and discourses of those matters to your judgements, that have laisure to look and read, what other men have written of those causes.  
Now I make a little recital of a service, being done between saint Dennis and Paris, where the Constable of France was slain, in whose company was master Edward Barkley, attending on Mounsire Brizak. This battle was attempted and fought, by the power of the king against the Prince of Conde: whose force lay scattered a broad in the country about Paris, and yet the number of xviij. hundred horsemen, and three thousand footmen were left at saint Dennis. Which hearing of the kings power, marched towards them, issued out of the Town, and began the skirmish most dangerously, and with such courage, as seldom hath been seen, or red of: considering their power was so small, and the Parrisians were such a multitude, and to tell the troth, it seemed that the Prince of Condes force was but a handful, in comparison of the contrary side. And it seemed a great madness, or mockery, for the small number to encounter with the great and huge company. But necessity that either redoubleth the strength of men, or daunts the hearts of cowards: had so plucked up the hearts of this little number: that they imagined they rather sought against children, than champions. And as it proved this little troop presupposed, that in a multitude is many opinions, and many that would rather be at home in surety, than abroad in danger: which opinion and desire of of the weaker sort, breeds oftentimes a confusion, and utter mischief among a great multitude. Well, albeit the hazard was marvelous, and the enterprise past all the expectation of man: yet the Prince of Condeis power did set a good face on the matter, and plied the kings force with shot, and politic devices of war. Yea, in such sort, and with such manhood at every encounter, some paid the best blood in their bodies, and some were forced to give a lusty charge, to stay and amuse the whole battle. And charge upon charge, was given on both sides most nobly, with most assured hope of victory: And the fight being begun near Saint Dennies, endured from the windmills, almost to the suburbs of Paris. But always as the multitude did overlay the little band, the small companies courage did increase, and their minds were become so great, that they thought the field to small, and the day to short to show the valiancy of their hearts. And in this their manly disposition, they got ground at every charge they gave: And in fine being furiously bent, compelled by great Fortune and dangerous service, the kings side to sway a little about, and taking the advantage offered, they charged a band of horsemen, where they thought the Constable of France stood in troop, and hit so full upon the mark they shot at, that the noble Mounsire Memorancy was slain at the first stroke, by the hands of one called captain Steward a Scottish gentleman. Thus the Constable's death, and others of good credit being known, and published among the Parrisiens that came with him to the field. They fled as fast as they could, and so the whole army was discouraged, and as they might every man made shifted for himself. But yet some order was kept among them or else a great slaughter had been made: and yet in troth the Prince of Condeis side were waxed so a weary, that they but looked for a time to take breath in, and refresh their over-laboured horses. Here may the world behold, what good Fortune the forward minds of men may attain unto, and what victory and conquest is compassed, by a constant determination, and a resolute service: Which who that looks into and regards thoroughly, shall ever have a prosperous success. For in all battles and services (where good Captains are the leaders) the valiancy of men commonly goes away with the garland: and all worldly glory and triumphs attends, and waits on the worthiness of men's courages, as a thing incident to those that dare adventure by value, to strive for good fame.  
The King notwithstanding this overthrow, (which might not a little move his Majesty, raised a great Army after this, (when Sharters was besieged by the prince of Conde) and marched thitherwards with a princely power: where was great service, and many a man slain before the siege was raised. But for that, but a few of any great name lost their lives there: I writ little of the particulars, and yet if I list to delate, there is matter enough left, to enlarge my volume of the same service. Master Edward Barkly was on the kings side in like sort at this service: and at the rest of the French wars, that follows on the Prince of Condies side.  
captain Barkley went after with the Prince of Conde, and was at the siege of saint John Dangill: At the siege of Poitiers: At the siege of Angulem: At the skirmish of Lodwyne: At the skirmish of Lasmirie: At the skirmish of Pompero, in which skirmishes, many great conflicts were given, and many thousands were slain. And a number of great adventures were to be seen: the Chronicle of France sets them forth at the full. For which cause I leave out much of the matter. And after captain Barkley had been at all these services afore named, he was with the Prince at the battle of jernake, where there was a great fight, and a hot encounter, long in balance, hanging between hope and doubt: But to conclude, as the French writers, and troth doth testify. The King had the upper hand, and the Prince of Conde was slain, and his whole force driven back: In which fight and bloody battle thousands were discomfited on both the sides. But the grace of good Fortune, and the glory of that day went away with the King, that long had sought victory, and found but hard chance till that present hour. Some do excuse the Prince's misfortune, with an oversight of those that were about him. But in God's blessed bosom, the bowels of those broils and business, is shrined, and lies fast locked from the looks and judgement of man.  
Now I mind to touch somewhat, the services that were by Sea, since we that are a live, can remember the report of the same: and yet I may not express at large any great thing thereof, because I would not be tedious to the reader: nor would not writ more, then is, or may be well liked▪ For that I search no books, nor rob no one Author of his study and labour: I run but to my own view and reach of reason, or follow the true report of those that I knew, will not fable with the world, in matter of troth and credit.  
In the reign of that most redoubted, and peerless Prince King Henry the eight (whose famous acts can not be to much spoken of). There was a noble and terrible fight on the Sea, between the French Galleys (which were nineteen in number, and two Foists) and our ships, which were not many.  
The King having sent to Laundersey sir John Wallop, and a sufficient power to annoy that Town, and for other great causes then moving his Majesty: prepared anon after a small Navy, to molest his enemies, making Admiral of that fleet, the noble Lord Lyle, after Duke of Northumberlande, and with him was sent the Lord Clinton, now Earl of Lincoln, sir George Caro, sir Peter Caro, sir Gawine Caro, sir Robert Stafforde, master Clement Parstons, master William Winter now knight, master Biston a valiant captain, with whom was master Biston the Pensioner that now is a live. And all these gentlemen under the leading of the Lord Lyle: encountered the Galleys in most braveste, and warlike sort upon the Seas, and fought with them half a day, dangerously and in great peril, our Ships having a great disadvantage, because the port holes were not so low, as reason required: by which mean our Ships might not come, to do the harm that was intended. Notwithstanding the great Ordinance played on the enemy all the while, and our gentlemen behaved themselves as nobly, as might be devised: not in no little hazard, nor without great courage. For this fight was so sore and dangerous, that every man's value and stoutness might be seen. There was no hole nor cave for the coward, to hide his head in: For the Cannon could fetch them up, that would creep in the Cook room, and set them a work, that would sit down and do little good. The bars and chains of Iron flew about so thick, and the smoke and smother of the powder was so great, that one might scarce see an other for fume, flame, and the fury of the shot. And to be plain, because I have seen the like, I take it to be the most terrible, and cruel fight that can be named, or expressed with pen. For it is rather (if it be rightly painted out) a hell, than any other thing it can be compared unto. But how so ever it is, or was, at that present time our fleet abode the brunt thereof, and tried it out to the uttermost, as the French themselves, did afterward report and affirm. And so both the sides being wearied with roaring of Cannons, and murdering of men, were driven at the length to leave of, and sail several ways: but the French had the worst, and were glad to depart, to their loss and mischief,  
But in the neck of this, the French Navy came gallantly to Portchmouthe, and in the view of King Henry, they made a stout show, and sign of some shrewd intent. Against the which Navy went out sir George Caro, in a noble vessel, and with a great number of valiant gentlemen: but by mischance, and oversight of some reckless persons, the Ship and all was cast away and drowned, full before the view and face of King Henry the eight. And yet our other Ships made out, and set so lustily upon the French fleet, that they made them return homeward to their small contentation: so that little or nothing was done worthy the noting, a good time after.  
another service there was, where master Clementte Parston, and captain Wolffe was, in King Edward's days, where they had a Galley in chase, and overcame the same Galley: For master Parston brought it away, and had in sign of that victory a jewel thereof, made in manner like a Snake of gold.  
In Queen Mary's reign, the Lord Admiral that now is, with sir William Woodhouse, sir Thomas Cotton, sir William Winter, master Gonstone, master Holstocke, master Morley, Sir Richard Brooke, captain Poole a knight of the Rhodes, as sir Richard Brooke was, sir Richard Winkfeeld, sir Robert Constable that now is, Master William Gorge, and Master George Biston, both Pensioners, went to the burning of Conkquette, and did there a great exploit, and made much spoil and havoc in that country, and retiring to our Ships, took good order for the safety of our men. But the Almains being greedy of gain, and overcome with wine, could not be brought a Shipboard in no due season: and so through their own folly and lewd behaviour, they were entrapped and overthrown: and yet was there as great regard for their preservation as might be, but their reckless manner was such, that no devise could recover them, and so they perished. When our people did prosper, and came away with honour and commodity.  
From Concquet there was appointed seven Sails of Ships, to go to my Lord of Sussex, than Lord Deputy of Ireland: The names of which Ships followeth, the Hue Willoughby, in which was sir Thomas Cotton, Admiral for that service. The Gearfaucon, in which was master Tornar of the Guard. The Newbarke, where was Southerwicke of Dover. The Saker, at the commandment of M. Peter Killegrey. The Bark Caree, under the charge of M. Gregory Carie. The John of Plimmouthe, in the which was master Richard Bingham: And all these attended my Lord of Sussex at Daukkith, who nobly set forward and bornte Kynteer (james Mackono being in the country) and razed two of Mackonoes' chief Castles, took divers of they Galleys, and executed many of their men.  
My Lord also burnt the isle of Butte, the isle of Combra, and the isle of Amilashe, with divers other places in that journey.  
And at this service was sir William Fitz Willyams, master George Delues, captain Collier, master Thomas Masterson, captain Warren, captain Peers, sir George Stanley, master Edward Stanley, who was there made knight. And a number of other lusty gentlemen, that presently I make no mention of.  
Sir William Winter did a great piece of service, (with other English gentlemen and Soldiers) at a place called Alderneye. For the French to the number of mean hundred had taken that Island, and were in the Castle in a marvelous triumph: But sir William Winter having but four hundredth soldiers and Mariners (which Mariners who so marks, shall see great worthiness in) landed in Alderneye with his small company, and handled the French so hardly, that he drove them into the Castle: and would not leave them, till he had dispatched the Island of them. And so in his countries honour, returned into England again.  
There was an other piece of service by Sea, when Mounsire Determes lost a battle by Gravelin, and as I do remember, master Nicholas Gorge was at this service. But be there who might, it happened well on Mounsire Degmondes side: that the shot of our Ships had any mean to annoyed his enemies. For even as at Mosseborough field, our Galley did great service (that flanked a long the Scots Camp, and slew many stout men). So our ships at this battle, made such way among the French that the Borgonions got good passage by that bargain, and went away with victory.  
In the reign of our Sovereign Lady Queen Elizabeth, there was sent the Hope, the Lion, the Heart, the Swallow, and the Phoenix (very goodly Ships to new Haven, sir William Woodhous being Admiral, who falling sick at Deep, went home again with master Holstocke: And then remained master George Biston Admiral, having but three sail in his company. But he proceeded onward, and hovered up and down the coast a certain space, till at length coming before the Castle of Cane. Mongomrie having espied the Ships, that captain Biston brought before the Town of Cane (which was besieged by the enemies of Count Mongomries) began to prepare himself and all his people, to go a Ship board, and so came from Cane, and passed to New Haven by captain Bistons' means, giving him great thanks, for his coming to Cane, and for serving the Counties turn in that extremity.  
The Count had brought with him from Cane twelve hundred soldiers, and other things necessary for his furniture. And captain Biston departing from him, made sail into England, and received sir Adriane Poinynges, and master Cutpurse Vaughan, with two thousand Soldiers, and there on sailed back again to New Haven, and landed them there at their own wills and pleasure.  
After the siege of New Haven, the Count Mongomrie gathered a great Navy, and went out of England, in hope to succour Rotchell that was strongly besieged: and entering in at the havens mouth of Rotchell, a Cannon shot passed through the Ship the Count was in himself. So upon that, or other causes unknown to many in his company, he returned, and left Rotchell in great danger. Which town notwithstanding, against all hope, or expectation of man, kept itself in surety, and did such wonderful things during the siege thereof, as to this day and to the worlds end, is, and will be spoken of. For among all the sieges that ever we have heard of, there is not one comparable to the siege of Rotchell. Albeit Haddyngton, Harlam, and Malta, are monuments and patrons to show that manhood may work marvels, and constancy joined with courage, is not easily conquered. As Rotchell, and these places before mention of doth witness, and shall whiles we are men be daily remembered.  
In that season whiles the Count Mongomrie was about to succour Rotchell: Bell Island was assaulted, and very valliaunly won with a few men, one of sir William Winter's brethren, being the chief leader to that service. In which service was many a hot skirmish, and many more matters worthy memory put in practice, wherein manhood, and diligence of man was throughlie tried: And the English nation did show their accustomed courage in, in such manner and sort that the French, which thought to keep Bell Island, were forced to leave it, and seek their best way to convey themselves from danger: albeit they defended the said Island as long as they might.  
Now having further causes to treat of, and meaning no more to weary the readers with many words or war either of Sea service, or Lands bloody broils. I mind to express and set forth at large, how Soldiers were made of, and honoured in times passed: and what prerogative they had above other people. And to declare how Princes held them in admiration, and gave them liberties, titles, and dignities: far beyond the rest of any, that lived under their laws and obedience. And this by the way is to be thought, that all my former discourse and rehearsal of wars, attended to no other purpose and effect: but for the advancement of Soldiers, and to be as it were a foil to set forth the matter, I presently mind to publish out. For now I will in a manner show, how Gentility began, and where and in what sort honour was first gotten and maintained, which argument as I hope, shall not only content the wise and well learned, but also please every degree, and make the simple sort pluck up their courages, and imitate (by some honest exercises) the lives of noble Soldiers.  
I trust I need not in this ready and ripe age (wherein good writers, great learning, and studious judgements doth flourish) rehearse by particulars every parcel and point, that belongeth to a soldiers profession. Nor that you look I should recite when, and where the romans, Lacedæmonians, Athenians, and other nations did prefer and extol men of Marshall minds, and noble courages. For their books and Commentaries, and the innumerable Libraries of great antiquity, are the very records of my discourse, and remain as mirrors for you to look in. And shall prove a thousand parts more in the commendation of Soldiers, then either my pen or tongue (by sufficient cunning) hath power to express. For it can not be, that from a little gut or Channel of water, you should look for so great a flood, as from a multitude of springs, from whence mighty Rivers takes original and recourse  
And so I send you to the Wellspring of ●●●●●edge (I mean the ancient Fathers works) to fetch true intelligence, of the things I make mention of, touching the worthy reputation of a good Soldier, and the antiquity of his credit, triumph and glory.  
first, look in the sacred Scriptures, and search from the death of Abel, coming down orderly to the birth of Christ: And see whether Soldiers were made of or no. And doubtless you shall find they were not only embraced and maintained, but like wise they are of a long continuance and credit. As all the Bible before John the Baptistes' time declareth. And Christ himself in a sort did utter, when he said, he had not found such faith in Israel, as he saw in a Centurion. Yea, and in the Apostles Acts, there is a special point to be noted: devout Soldiers were sent to Simon Tanners house to find out Peter. Well, now I commit you to the Scripture, and I will follow profane histories: and begin at the very Infidels (a scorn for a Christian to be taught by) which are no small number, nor of no little continuance, people always brought up in war, and Princes of great fame, power, and authority. Yea, conquerors of the whole world, and kings to whom all people did stoop and do homage.  
These Pagans, or as we may term them lost sheep to whom the great Shepherd would not be known, (and yet among them tormented and crucified) did make such laws and orders for Soldiers, as the Turk to this day observeth, and holdeth in great reverence. Regard but the liberties and authority of the jenessaries: and that shall manifestly prove, that men of war are had in great admiration. But because you shall have the more belief to the matter: read the life of Alexander the Great: The Commentaries of julius Caesar, and the noble acts and victories of a number of other notable Princes. And then assuredly you shallbe persuaded, that the renown of Soldiers hath reached, and spread as far as fame can fly, or good report could have passage.  
I pray you can any man deny, but it springeth of a great courage, and zeal to the Common wealth: when a man forsaketh the pleasure of life, to follow the painfulness of war, and danger of death: and refuseth no toil nor travail, to purchase credit, and attain unto knowledge. Yea, some such we read of, as Marcus Cursius and Musius Scevola, that refused no enterprises, to do their Country pleasure. Yea, some have sold their patrimony, and consumed their Treasure and riches, to enrich their Princes with glory, and everlasting renown.  
Were not this a madness, and more than a mere folly, to be a drudge to the world, and a labourer for those that sits at rest, and to watch and ward. Fight, strive, and struggle with strangers for victory: and then to come home and be rewarded as common persons, and walk like a shadow in the Sun, without estimation or countenance. Would any that had wisdom, value, and courage, be over run with vicious fools and cowards: or be made a footstool to there inferior, when they have climbed up the steps of honour, and are gotten into the top galant of worldly glory, and warlike triumph.  
Among children that do but play at the bucklers, there is a pre-eminence, and one will acknowedge the other to be his better, when good bobs are bestowed: and suddenly a stout taule lobber will say down the waster, and yield to him that hath more practice, and skill in the weapon than himself. Then shall not a man that hath coped with Champions, buckled with Conquerors, and abidden the hazard of the Cannon, stand on his Pantofles, and look to the steps he hath passed. Yes sure, and such a member of the state, (the base sort are Ciphers) aught to be made of, deserveth place and pre-eminence, and is no companion for punies▪ nor meet to be matched with Milksop, whose manhood and manners differs, as far from the grave Soldier, as a Donkite in courage and condition, differs from a jerfaucon.  
As the duty to a man's country, and the wages that he taketh, binds him to do the uttermost he may: so were there not an other cause, that forceth further matter. Full coldly some would fight, and full slowly some would march to the battle, albeit the Prince's quarrel and wages received, commandeth much, and is a thing stoutly and wisely to be looked to. But I tell you, fame and reputation is the mark that men shoot at, and the greediness of glory and ambition, pricketh the mind so fast forward, that neither the man looks upon the multitude of enemies: Nor regards the danger of death, so he may be eternised, and live in the good opinion of the Prince and people.  
For he that but bluntly looks about him, and goeth to the war for wealth (which hardly is there gotten) is lead on with a covetous desire of that he shall not have, and may fight like an Ox, and die like an Ass. But who so respecteth his credit, and paiseth in balance the worthiness of fame, that riseth by well doing: doth combat like a Lion, and either conquers like a man, or dieth like a conqueror, as many great Kings and Captains have done, whose ensamples a long while ago, as yet remains freshly in memory.  
It may not be thought that every mercenary man, and common hireling (taken up for awhile, or serving a small season) is a Soldier fit to be registered, or honoured among the renowned sort of warlike people. For such numbers of besoingnes, or necessary instruments for the time, are to fall to their occupation when the service is ended, and not to live idly, or look for embracing. For neither they tarry long in the field, when they are pressed to go forth. Nor are not often called again to the like journey, so great is our store of such persons: and so many shifts they can make, to put of any pain and hazard. But he is to be accounted the courageous Soldier, that is given by his own disposition, to delight and follow the Cannon wheel, whose countenance and cheerful face, begins to smile and rejoice when the Drum soundeth, and whose heart is so high, it will not stoop to no servile slavery. But hath a body and mind able to answer that is looked for, and hath often been tried and experimented in Marshal affairs: through haunting whereof he is become ignorant of drudging at home, and made a skilful scholar in the discipline of war: which is not learned without some loss of blood, charges of purse, and consuming of tyme.  
And this may be judged, and plainly presupposed, that many of that sort of men are not found alive, to trouble or burden a common wealth, because they are cut of through dangerous services, or forced by seeking of Fame in the field, to cell that they have at home, and so to travail abroad, subject to all misery, and far from any friendship or prosperous estate. And sometimes through the greatness of their minds, that gallops after glory, are carried away to seek out new kingdoms, and refuse their old abitation. A matter falling out well, worthy to be liked, but other wise, a heavy tale to be told, and an experience bought with overmuch repentance. But every way occasions they are, that dispatcheth many a good Soldier, and makes the number so little, that it is reason such as are left alive of that profession: should either be rewarded, or at the lest reap some such credit, as the common sort of people should have them, in admiration for, and offer them such courtesy, as the worthiness of their experience and service requireth.  
If in the old time our forefathers used their men of war nobly, prefarred them to promotions, and dealt honourably with them that served their country, when wars were not so cruel. Why should not this world, wherein policies, murders, and bloodshed is followed (and hazards are marvelously escaped) to the uttermost of man's power, have more regard to a soldier that shunneth no hazard, nor refuseth no peril. There is no more to say, for the answering of this great oversight, but the Hackney horse is unhappy, having borne a burden all the day on his back, and is cast of at night to a bore common, there to seek for food, and abide a hard Fortune.  
There is a worse matter than this to be treated of, yet nothing but that so far past remedy to be touched: let any one serving man get a good master, and for following his heels at an inch, he shallbe more spoken for and get more benefit, than twenty of the best Soldiers that you can name, that have followed the wars all their life days, and knew not how to flatter and faun, or crouch and curtsy for commodity. Yea, such as serves at home, and can not go out of the view of a fair house, and Smoke of a foul Chimney, snatcheth up good turns, and stealts away prefarmentes privily: when those that merits more consideration, oft goes openly a begging, and findeth few among thousands that wisheth them well, or doth them any good.  
Some say the cause of this hard hap to the one, and good Fortune to the other, is a certain deadly dissension, fallen between the Sword and the Penne. By which mortal malice is bred and nourished in bosom, such a headstrong hatred and partiality, that the Pen is ever giving a dash out of order, against the commendation of the sword, and the Sword being disgraced, by a bald blot of a scurvy Goose quill, lies in a broken rusty scabbard, and so takes a Canker, which eats away the edge, and is in a manner lost for lack of good looking to, and consideration of a painful Cutlare.  
And the Pen (as many people are persuaded) is like the Pencil of a Painter, always ready to set out sundry colours, and sometime more apt to make a blur, then give a good shape and proportion to any invention or devise, that proceades of a plain meaning. And as all Pencils are as well occupied of a bongling Painter, as a cunning work man. So the scribbling Pen is ever working of some subtlety more for the benefit of the writer, then commonly for the profit or pleasure of the reader: yea, and the Pen is waxed so fine, and can show such a flourish, that a master of Fence, though he played with a two hand Sword, might be put to a foul foil: where the Pen is in place, and is guided by a sleight hand, and a shrewd head.  
But under correction, if a man may be plain, the Pen and the Sword can never agreed, because the Pen stands in such fear of the Sword, it would not come under the blow of the blade: and the Sword is in such doubt to be moiled with ink, by the dash of a Pen, that it loves not to come where the Pen may annoy it. And so the dissension and quarrel between the Pen and the Sword, is never like to be taken up: the harms are so great that grows on their amity and meeting, and the advantage of them both is so much when they be kept a sunder.  
For the sword is best and in his most bravery, when it is shining in the field, where blood may be shed, and honour may be won. And the Pen is in chiefest pomp, when it lies lurking in the town, where pence may be purchased, and peace and quietness may do what it pleaseth. And the Pen is so glad to rest in the Pennar, till profit calls him out, that he can not abide the hinderers of his commodity, nor the disquieter of his ease. Which cometh by wars, and proceedeth from the Sword, when the Drum and the Trumpet puts the Pen out of credit.  
Now to speak roundly to the reason, may be alleged in the Pens behalf (and praises of those have the use of the same) it can not be denied, but the Pen may both persuade war, and purchase peace. And those that here at home maintain good Laws: see justice ministered, uphold the public state: Pled controversies at the bar, study to unfold doubts. Labour at their book to be profitable members, and strive daily to excel in learning, and quiet the quarrelous people of their country. such I say that with Penor tongue, advanceth virtue, and overthrows vice, are meet to be honoured, deserveth great land, and aught to go in the rank and place of commendation and dignity. For there is but four sorts of true Nobility, or Gentlemen. The first is Governors, by whom all states and Kingdoms are guided, brought to know order, and made possess in quietness the goods that either good Fortune, or sweat of brows hath gotten.  
The second are Soldiers, whose venture and valiance hath been great, service and labour not little, and daily defended with the hazard of their lives, the liberty of their Country.  
The third are upright and learned Lawyers, that looketh more to the matter they have in hand, than the money they receive. And are never idle in doing their duty, and studying for the quietness of matters in controversy.  
The fourth are Merchants that sails foreign countries, and brings home commodities: and after great hazards abroad, do utter their ware with regard of conscience and profit to the public estate.  
And as from the beginning governors and rulers were ordained by God, and the rest of gentility came in, and did follow as reason required, and desert did command. So ancient birth and blood (joined with good conditions) is a thing much to be honoured and esteemed, and beautifies not only the noble race, but brings likewise a treable beatitude, to the person so virtuous bent and nobly borne.  
And as for the soldiers and their original, of honours, titles, and calling, the Romans (which were the Fathers of all Marshall affairs, and conquerors of the world, have so much spoken of and praised, that no man can deny, but they are the men of greatest antiquity, and people that princes first preferred, and gave stipends unto. Yea, and the chiefest conquerors that ever were before our days: had a great glory themselves to be called Soldiers, and Noble Captains. For they thought none so worthy as the soldier, nor none so meet to compare themselves unto, as the man that stood on his honour, and would neither stoop to no kind of slavery, nor yield to no villainous action.  
But in very deed, to speak of every one in their order, there is none so much to be feared, loved, and honoured as the rulers and leaders of the common people.  
For the peaceable governor, and such as are experimented in worldly policies, knows how to make war, and how to avoid troubles: and as they are loath to fall from rest and wealth, to ruffling war and wickedness, that breeds bloodshed and want. So they can break the bands of peace, and set men out to the field, when causes commands them, and opportunity doth serve. But since that my purpose, is but to treat of Soldiers alone, (and that I lack skill to set forth the rest) I will return to my first discourse and intent, and leave the wise to consider, what good matter may be said in the thing I leave of.  
The Soldier, because his life is in Balance, and his death is at the door, hath so many mischiefs to pass, and so few means to escape danger: that he is compelled to be honest, and be ready to make an account every hour of the day. For as the Cannon may call him before he be a ware, or the policy of the enemy may cut of his years: So is he assured that the pot, which goeth often to the water, comes home with a knock, or at length is pashed all in pieces. Through which accidents or cross chances, he is held so hard, and kerbed so short (if any fear of God be in his breast) that he hath no scope to run at riot in: nor play the parts of a wanton, or prodigal son.  
Albeit some hold opinion, that Soldiers be given to spoil, and offered to insolent life, by a number of inconveniences: yet may they so well be occupied in war, that they may be occasion of great good, and a great hynderer of many harms. For when houses are ready to be burnt, impotent persons, poor women and children ready to be slain: they may save what the list, and preserve an infinite number of things, that a man at home can do no good in, nor none but the Soldier in the field, hath power to comfort and secure. And for certain I know Soldiers of that disposition, that hath been occupied in these honest actions: when some hellhounds have been spoiling and murdering, and found by their folly and over great cruelty, a dispatch of their own days, and peradventure the terrible wrath of God, and damnation to their souls.  
My Prince may be well served, and the enemy not always to the uttermost persecuted: the lesson that Saint John Baptist gave the soldiers, may suffice for this matter, and carry men's minds from violence, and doing wrong, to qualify fury, and maintain right, with a regard to the innocent, that aught not to be touched, for the offence of an ambitious leader, or one whose faults the ignorant may not answer. This point though simply it is passed over, may contain a large volume: and is to be looked into with a divine spectacle, and a Christian consideration.  
Then if the soldiers (as few there are in number) be honest, and is to be proved, they are not to be reproved: it follows that honour and reputation accompanies those soldiers, and that a singular privilege and liberty, may be had for those that have such regard of their Fame, that they will do no any one thing prejudicial to their credit, in the compass of which regard is knit, valiance, modesty, pity, and hope of an other life to come: when the affairs of this world shall dutifully, and honestly be finished.  
And for that the reader hereof shall not think, but that great Princes thought their Soldiers to be honest, and men that were worthy the making of (whose doings and regard did argue, and show a special hope of an other place to go to, or a certain fame and eredite here to be maintained) I will show you as I have gathered by translation, how triumphant kings and princely potentates, did ordain set down, and deliver a law and rule for Soldiers. By the which they had honour, liberty, and prerogative above, and beyond the Commoners, or common course of people. The translation I speak of is not so long and tedious, but bringing willing minds to hear and know the truth, you may read, if laisure permit, and you peruse that followeth.  
first you must mark (and make a good note of) that Heralds were at the beginning Soldiers, and were called ancient Knights, as well it seemeth to be true: For they (I mean Heralds) being brought up in war, beheld who deserved renown, and had by their authority and experience, a power to give Arms and sign of honour to those, which for well doing in field or public state, did merit remembrance, which power and place of the Herald doth plainly express: that from the field, or honourable offices at home, sprung up our gentility, and generation of gentlemen. For as every man's blood in a basin looks of one colour: and when Adam was created, and a long while after, men were all a like. So virtuous acts that shines to the heavens, hath made them to be honoured and advanced, where vicious livers, and bloodthirsty wretches were accursed of God, and hated of man. And had a mark set upon them to be known by, and be a testimony to the world, that they were not worthy of honour, and were appointed to reproach. Let Cain that killed his brother Abel (by an unjust war) be a witness in this behalf.  
Aeneas' Silvius doth derive Heralds of ab Heroibus, of noble men: For Heroes were ancient Knights, otherwise called Soldiers, and an Herald signifieth Centonicum vocabulum (videlicet) and old man of Arms, or an old knight, but at this day (said Aeneas a long while since) certain servile men, feeble and weak messengers, which never have played the soldiers, do profess that office. The privileges and offices of the Heralds in ancient time, to this day continuing nevertheless. And the first author of them was Bacchus, which India being conquered, did call them by this name: I absolve you of wars and travail, and will that you be ancient soldiers, and to be called Heroes. Your office shallbe to provide for the Commonweal, to try out the original of causes, and to praise the wise: you shall call for great rewards, in what place or country you shall come. And the kings shall give you meat and apparel. You shallbe most honourable to all men. Prince's shall offer unto you many things, and shall licence you their apparel. Credit shallbe given to your sayings, you shall abhor lies. You shall judge traitors and adulterers: These infamous persons ye shall punish: and in every nation you shall have liberty, and sure egress and regress shallbe unto you, if any man shall gainsay any of you in word or deed, let him die with the sword.  
Alexander the Great hath annexed to these Privileges of noble men, after a long season, that they might use Purple, golden and beautiful garments. And that they should bring in princely and notable Arms at every place, in any country or Region soever it shallbe. If any man shall repulse these without respect, or secretly defame in word, he shallbe accounted guilty of death, and deposition of goods. And so the same Aeneas doth say, Thucydides, Herodotus, Didimses, Magashones, & Zencphon together.  
Thirdly, than Octavian August, the Roman Monarch being established, hath beautified them on this condition: Who so ever (said he) hath played the Soldier with us, the space of ten years, and be of the age of forty years, whether he be horseman, or else footman, he shall have his wages, and afterwards be absent from wars, be a noble man and old Soldiers. No man shall forbid thee the City, the Market, the Church, Hospitality and house: no man shall impute any fault to thee, thou shalt be discharged of that blemish or burden: no man shall ask any thing of thee, if thou make fault in any thing, only look thou for Caesar's vengeance: for what filthiness men shall impute. Let them fear thee being a judge and corrector. Whether they be private, or Princes: what soever thou sayest, thou shalt affirm, and no man contrary. All journeys and places shallbe free and plain to thee: let thy meat and drink be in the houses of Princes▪ and take daily of the Common treasure, wherewithal to keep thee and thine house. Marry thou a wife of comely beauty, and esteem her above all other. Whom thou wilt check and reproach with infamy: thou shalt say this man is an infamous reprobate. Arms, Ensigns, names and ornaments of noble men bear thou. Do what things become kings, and what thou wouldst do or say in every place and Nation, make mention of it: if there be any injurious person, let him die.  
And last of all Charles the Great, the name of the Empire being translated to the Germans, after the conquest of the Saxons and lombards. Caesar called Augustus, hath rewarded them with this honour, saying: My Knights, you noble men, fellows of kings and judges of faults, live after your labour, without travail, provide for kings in a common name. Take away vice. Favour women. Help Children. Keep council of the Prince, and of him ask your apparel, and stipend: and if any deny, let him be accounted presumptuous and slanderous. If any shall do you injury, let him acknowledge himself guilty of impairing the Empire. But take you heed lest you defile such worship, and such privilege, gotten by just travail of war, either by drunkenness, bawdry, or any other vice: neither that we give unto you, should redound unto praise, or peace, which is to be taken of you. If perhaps you shall exceed us, and our successors Kings of the Romans for ever hereafter.  
These before rehearsed word for word, as I might I translated out of Latin, finding therein a marvelous commendation of Soldiers, and so is thereby to be perceived, that in all ages, times, and public governements, Kings and mighty monarch, took care as much for their men of war, as for their commonweal: and to bring them in heart if any despair or mislike, should grow through slackness of looking unto. The Princes of their princely benignity, and mere good will borne to Marshall people, invested them with titles, names, and honours, such as always plucks up man's courage, and procures thousands to valiancy and service. For who will not venture boldly a season, when they know for ten years toil and hazard, he shallbe honoured, sit at ease, live without danger, and remain in a perpetual privilege: neither subject to the malice of lewd people, nor worldly want, whose plague persecuteth many millions of men, and throws down in the dust the praises of such, as otherwise should shine like the Sun, before the eyes of all nations.  
And as those Kings and Conquerors many hundred years ago, ordained by decree and virtue of a Law, that Soldiers should be made honourable, and possess great contentation of mind▪ So fell it out from time to time, their services were considered. And that Soldier like king and triumphant conqueror King Henry the eight, having trial of Soldiers and a warlike heart: to show the honour belonging to that profession, and to follow his noble predecessors. Made a Law as ye may read in the Statutes, that Soldiers might wear what they listed: And further to the comfort of all men of war, he left no one worthy soldier unrewarded, in what place so ever of his dominion, or affairs the Soldier had been employed.  
In France, our near neighbours makes so great account of Soldiers (namely those that they call Soldado Vetche) that the greatest Dukes or Princes in the field, Court or Town, encountering a Soldier, salutes him with courtesy, takes him to his Table, and useth him with such entertainment and reverence, that it is a world to behold: And when service is to be seen, either in battle, or at an assault. The greatest Duke or noble man, thinks himself happy to be joined with a known Soldier: and commonly both old and young of their nobility, are foremost in the fight, and last that will retire. It is a thing incredible among some ignorant persons, to be told how Soldier-like, and manlike in all points they behave themselves, and how little account they make of life: when death must be sought by service, and thereby their honour and liberty of Country, is to be preferred.  
The spaniards, a Nation not inferior to any yet named, join so in amity at their meeting, make such courtesy, and show such fastness of friendship (especially among soldiers) that every one in presence embraceth his companion, and in absence, lettes fall good report of the absent. Yea, their love and constancy by custom and ceremonies, knits them in such an union, that no stranger can separate: and they give so great place on to an other, that it is hard to know by their gestures and usages, which is the better of them. And they have their own soldiers in such a liking, that no people in the world, shallbe suffered to reap any piece of their glory.  
The Italians Soldiers of great antiquity, and of no less value with most humility and Civil manner, enterchaungeth their talk: yielding for one gentle word, twenty good terms, smooth speeches, and philed phrases. And happening to come together, either in service, or otherwise: they agreed like brethren, and depart without quarrel. And their great men and mightiest in power, if they repair where Soldiers are, shows themselves of little authority, as a man might guess by their courtesy: Refuseth to take any thing upon them, where the Marshall man approacheth, and seemeth to be at the disposition of such as have served, so great is the reputation of a soldier among them.  
The Scots men, a stout and manly people, beginning to take a savour in the war, seeks sundry soils to serve in: and have great delight to be in the company of soldiers, and prove themselves worthy of commendation, in any place they repair. And for that they would become famous, and attain to some experience and credit, they shun no kind of service that is offered: and all the sorts of gentility among them, esteemeth much a Soldier. Which is a sign that at the length, soldiers will come to their ancient dignity and admiration, where the sound of Drum or Trumpet may be heard.  
Now to speak of our own Nation were superfluous, (although many have served well, and sundry are yet in the exercises of war) because I have named before diverse things, wherein our country men have won desired fame and renown, yet for arguments sake, and to enlarge this volume. Further matter may be treated of, neither hurtful to the hearers, that favoureth well doing: nor hateful to any when nothing shallbe touched, but that which is necessary for the advancement of virtue.  
Our sovereign Lady by God's providence (to make up the matter) I bring for a testimony of great regard to soldiers, considering whom they are she hath holpen, in some sort and respect, and what good things have passed among such Soldiers, as her highness heard well of, or had intelligence given her to understand, the worthiness of those that had well deserved. Do but examine how many since her noble reign, of Soldiers have had Leases, gotten livings, been preferred to government, and gone from Court with full hands, that began with empty purses. And then tell the world openly, what secret suits were passed, and what open wrong they do them, that bountifully bestowed good gifts, where any good cause appeared. Admit some by the report of their friends, stole away the benefits from the fountain head: yet look to the rest of things that worthily fell out, and you shall see the best sort of Soldiers worthily rewarded, and nobly used. What care we though some silly souls, or serviceable Soldiers watch at receit, or are not spoken for by mean of some hinderers of good hap. Yet since other some, and many in number have found good Fortune (say what they can) at her highness hands that now remaineth Queen over our Country, we can not but confess that the candle is in, and not burnt so far, but may give a gracious blaze and a new light, to lighten the minds of Soldiers, and such as sit in the comfortless shadow of dark despair.  
So to make short and prove for the purpose, Soldiers in times past have been set by, and dearly esteemed, and presently in all places of the world embraced and made of. From whom sprung Heralds, the erectors and publishers of gentlemen, and all true fame and honour did rise: as for example, a Knight made in the field, especially for service sake, hath much more to rejoice of, than he that at home is called to worship, except in causes of government, and honourable offices, which are to be preferred before all other dignities and calling. Chiefly for that our whole public state and Princely order, depends on their wisdoms without the which order, and Majesty of rule, the Civil would become savage, and the world would wax wild: so that the beasts in the field, and the people in the Town, should soon for naughty manners be a like in condition.  
Now here is to be noted, that Soldiers in old time of ten years continuance, being forty years of age, was suffered to live quiet, and bore the title of honour. Then reason will grant, that who hath served thirty years, without reproach or shame (and in a dangerous world and mischief) may claim by right a pension of the Prince, and stipend of the common treasure. But what and if some of good birth and behaviour, have been much more than thirty years a follower of the wars, and never out of warlike exercises all this long season. And yet are as new to begin the world again, as they were the first day they came from their Cradle. For any preferment, favour of the Prince, or countenance and commodity of their country. Such Soldiers may say, they were borne in an unhappy season, or found but cold friends in time of regard, and trial of good Fortune.  
The affection of this world is led with such liking, (and the cunning of the wily can so finely curry favour) that he that never came near the danger of the Cannon, with looking big, and turning up his mouchacho, makes men believe he is a Devil, who fearing the monster will do some mischief. And carried away by affection (for the goodly show this kill Cow hath made) speak for him where goodness is to be gotten, and so a swad or a swirnpipe is called a good Soldier (and goes away with credit and living) when he that wants this cunning, and yet lacks no courage nor value lives unrewarded, and consumes his days in sorrow.  
Yet some hold opinion, it is but hap that helps, and neither cunning nor deserts that compasseth good livings, and attains unto benefit. Full bore and poor is that argument and reason, and men of such opinions are as blind as a beetle: to believe he is happy that hath no worthiness in him, and he unfortunate that lacketh no virtues. But the world is most ignorant and much to be blamed, that helpeth a shadow to great substance, and lets the worthy shift for their living that deserveth reward. And they are not to be excused, that by a colour of hap, advanceth the victous person, and favours not the forward Soldier, and men of virtuous disposition. For gold and silver are known by their weight and goodness: The flower by the smell: The horse by his pace, and every other thing is tried and made of for his value. And must the merits of men be subject to hap, where men do help men, and are the judgers of man's doings: that case is to cruel, and that hap is accursed gotten by such blindness, and purchased by such partiality.  
In Rome where noble minds were marvelously extolled, yet when divers men came to be preferred: every Senator a part had so many followers, that one would hinder an other: And look who the best people favoured, the worst sort would hate. And look who followed Pompey, was misliked of julius Caesar, and so by this faccious dealing many great Soldiers, Eloquent Orators, and noble members of the Common weal, were put of from post to pillar. And few that were worthy of cherishing, found good chance, or possessed any part of the hap, that they justly might claim: by which frowardness and misery of the time, is plainly to be proved, that there is no hap certain. For man himself is the maker of hap, and the marrer thereof: even as his lust is to like, or his heart is bent to loath. For hap could do nothing at all among them, their affections were so far a sunder, and they haled such several ways, that their followers were left in the lash, or failed of their footing. Then speak not of hap, for God and good men are the distributors of desired Fortune, and the only causers of that which betideth, and must fall of necessity on some men's Shoulders, as in the book of Boetius de consolation, is manifestly to be tried.  
Now leave of hearing of hap, and note how nobly the Romans used their Soldiers, namely those that at any time had succoured a Citizen of Rome: and taken him out of the hands of his enemies. For such Soldiers as had done that service, was crowned with a garland or hat, made of the leaves of Trees, as I find written in Pliny the xuj. book the fourth Chapter, the chiefest whereof that serveth for my purpose, I have translated out of French. Pliny bringing many great authors to affirm his saying the matter follows.  
The greatest honour that could be done to a Soldier, was to Crown him with a Crown called Civiques, and likewise of long time this Crown Civiques was due unto Emperors, in sign of clemency. For since the civil wars had harmed the Rnmains, it was thought a singular good deed, to let a citizen live in rest and peace. Likewise there was no Crown compared to that Crown: For those that were given to that Soldier, that was first at the breach, or first on the walls, or ramparts of the enemies, was not so honourable, not, although they were of gold, and thereby were more rich. We have seen saith Pliny in our time, two great triumphs for the Sea service, the one was of Marcus Varro, (the which Pompey did crown, for having defeatted the Pirates, and making the Sea clear of thieves) the second was of Marcus Agrippa, which Caesar did likewise Crown, for having defeatted the Siciliens, and purged the Sea in like sort of Brigands and Robbers.  
At the first foundation of Rome, Romulus did Crown Hostus Hostilius with a garland of leaves: because he was the first on the walls, at the taking of Fidena. Now before a Burgoies should at any time enjoy this Crown Civique, he must rescue a Roman Citizen, and kill the enemy that led the citizen away prisoner. It must be likewise that the enemy did hold and possess the place, that same day that the Roman Citizen was rescued in. It is necessary that the man which hath been succoured, should confess the same before the people: For a Soldiers own witness in that behalf, serves to no purpose. And furthermore it is required, that he which was rescued, be known to be a Burgois of Rome. For if one do rescue a King, that cometh to serve the Romans, he doth not merit for the same the Crown Civique. In like sort, if one do rescue a general of an army, he gets no more honour therefore, then though he had rescued a simple Citizen. For they which established this ordinance had no regard, but to the conservation of the Citizens of Rome, who so ever they were. The Privilege of this Crown shall be to give power, to wear a Hat of broad leaves, as oft as he pleased that had been once Crowned for his well doing. Further all the Senate had a custom, to rise out of their places, and to do honour to them that have had this crown, when they go to see the common plays and pastimes. And it is sufferable and permitted, that they shall sit in a seat near the Senators. And they shallbe exempt from all Civil charges, not only themselves, but their natural Fathers and grandfathers: and now behold touching their Privileges, there was one Cicinius Dentatus, according as we have said, Crowned fowerteene times. And one Capitolinus had six times been Crowned, for he rescued Servilius, then general of the army: not withstanding Scipio African would not suffer them to give him the crown Civique, for succouring his Father in the journey of Trebia. O ordinance worthy of immortality (saith Pliny) that assigneth no other praise for such great works, than this great honour, which surpasseth all other warlike crowns.  
This far goes the very words of Pliny, and many (other ancient authors that I could rehearse) in the commendation of men of war, which neither in Tholomeus time: Artaxerses days: nor any of the mighty monarch long reigning before, could be forgotten, but were so honoured, that laws and orders was only devised, for the enlarging of their land, and stirring up their noble minds.  
Yea, Soldiers and Heralds had power to denounce wars, in so much as the ancient Romans: who were the Fathers of all Marshall affairs, and conquerors of the world, held this for a most certain rule.  
Nullum bellum justum esse nisi pro rebus injust ablatis & quod fecialis Romani antea denunciabant. Which rule and order of the Romans, for the power and honour of soldiers and Heralds: declareth they are of great dignity and calling, and may compare by this their authority, to be no whit inferior to the best sort of gentlemen.  
You may read in like manner, that there was a man among the Romans, that merrily, or peradventure in contempt, put a Crown Cynic upon his own head: and looking out at a great window into the street, was espied, And thereupon apprehended, and brought before the Senate: where he was judged presently to be put to death, for touching and abusing that Crown Civique. Which was ordained for the wearing only of an honourable Soldier, and for such a one as had been by desert, Crowned with triumph and solemnity in open audience. So this foolish man (albeit he might mean but little harm) was had to the place of execution, and there lost his life, to the great terror of those that rashly meddle with things, that becomes them not: and to the great honour of those that are advanced by virtue, and winneth with courage, the wearing of this Crown called the Crown Civique.  
Now coming down to this present age, in the time of our peace, where Soldiers have nothing to do, there is enough spoken (and peradventure to much) for the soldiers commendation, yet let me lead you a little further in that case. For now is to be proved what degrees of Soldiers (having served long, or borne any office of credit) are gentlemen, and may unrebukable be bold, to take that name and title upon them. First you have heard, that serving ten years honestly and truly, he is not only passed his prenticeship, but also above a journey man, and aught from all journeys to be spared. As a man might say, (though unproperly compared) a good free horse after his long labour, and many great journeys is to be ridden but seldom, and kept in the stable till extreme necessity requireth: and then is to be used gently, lest his stiff limbs and old body deceive the rider's expectation. So a soldier coming to this age and perfection, or being past the jollity of youth and youthful actions: aught to be provided for, and may without presumption plead for arms, albeit he never gave none before, and can bring no great proof of his house, gentry, or descent, and though he be the first of that house, stock, and name that gave Arms: his beginning is allowed of all our ancient writers and Princes, and shall put his adversaries to silence, when in that point they seek to deface him.  
I remember once I saw and heard an Italian (uceing in the Emperor Charles the fifth his Camp) so stand on his reputation, that when a mean Gentleman quarreled with him, and desired the Combat, he answered he had been (Soldado Vetche) an old Soldier, and had borne office, and passed through sundry offices by order: and that the gentleman was but a young man, and but of two years experience in war, and far unmeet to make challenge with him, that had passed so many steps of honour, and places of credit. But said the Italian to his adversary, go and do that I have done, or pass through the like, and when thou hast mounted up, and trodden on every step that I have passed: come to me and I will fight with thee the combat. But to say I will stoop so low, and base myself (as a Lord may in fighting with a Ruffian) beyond the compass of my calling, I will not, nor no Law of Arms can command me. The matter came in question before the Prince of Orrange that now is, and the Duke of Savoy yet living, and the challenger had a foul disgrace in the audience of a multitude: and the defendant had a reward of five hundredth Crowns allowed him by the Emperor, for preserving his honour and estimation so much. This was done and openly seen, a little before the siege of Renttie, and standeth for a good record. Then an old Soldier is a gentleman, both worthy to give arms and colours, and meet to be borne withal in causes of quarrel.  
another proof for the maintenance of my matter, I saw at the siege of Leeth, a gentlemant of great courage and birth (called master John Soutch) quarrel with captain Randall, than major of the field. And master Soutche did urge through ill words and stout language, captain Randall very far: which might have moved any man living. But captain Randall, in a manner used those words that the Italian had done, before expressed: and going further on in communication, commanded the Soldiers to say hands on master Soutch, and swore he would execute him, and learn all other by his boldness, to know their duties. And when master Soutch was stayed, well qd captain Randall since thou haste challenged me, I will not use my power and authority over thee: But by the faith of a Soldier, when I am out of the Sergeant majors room I will meet thee, and make thy heart ache for those words thou haste given: except thou repent before of thy lewd demeanour. Master Soutche having digested, and wisely weighed this matter: being talked with all of the Captains in the Camp, came like a gentleman on himself, and acknowledged his fault most dutifully, and with great repentance: for which submission of his, he was the better though on after.  
This shows and declares, that an ancient Soldier and Officer hath a great Privilege, and may not be compared with, nor offered any injury: because he carries the admiration of the people, and the honour of the field.  
You shall find written in Spanish, and the language of the Portugal (which Portugales found out the east Indians) that there was a mighty King of Calicute, and many other Kings in the Indians, whose Soldiers were all Gentlemen, and did live ever on the stipend that the King allowed them. And those Soldiers had many Privileges, and titles of honour, and stood so much on their reputation: that they would not touch a husband man's hands, nor suffer a Rustical fellow to come into their houses. And the husband men were bound when the Soldiers go in the streets, to cry with a loud voice, to make place for the Soldiers. For if those gentlemen did come, and bid the common people go out of the way, and they do not obey their commandment therein: it was sufferable for the gentlemen Soldiers, to kill those obstinate and proud people. And furthermore, the King could not make Gentlemen: if they were not borne of some noble stock, of the race of Soldiers. They could not take their weapons, nor enter into any Combat, before they were armed Knights. They must at the age of seven years, be put to learn to play with all weapons, and to the end they should be perfect, their masters do hale their arms very far out (thereby to stretch their limbs) and afterward they teach them such fence, as is apt for that purpose. They did by an ordinance and custom of theirs, honour and salute their Masters that had taught them at the weapons, (which were Graduates and cunning men) where soever they met them in the street. They were bound two Months in the year to ply their school, and take a lesson at their masters hands. By which reason they were very skilful of their weapons, and for that cause they greatly esteemed themselves. They could not be Knighted, but by the Kings own hands, who asked them before he laid his hand on their heads: if they could observe and keep the custom, and ordinance of gentlemen Soldiers, and they said, and answered the King. They minded to take that profession of arms upon them: and so the King caused a sword to be girded about them, and after embraceth those gentlemen so Knighted, than they did swear to live and die with him, and for him, which oath they well keep and observe. For if their Lord were slain in the war: they would fight to their last breath, and kill him that had slain their King. Or if at that instant they could not bring their purpose to effect, they would watch and spy out a convenient season, for the performance of their promise and oath. And undoubtedly some of them would revenge their masters death. They had a great regard to their duty and endeavour. They thought nothing so precious as fidelity, and their Prince's favour. They cared not for life: so glory might be gotten by their death. They served most faithfully under them, that gave them entertainment. They spared nothing, but spent liberally. They applied their only studies, for the maintenance of their King and Country. They would not suffer any dishonour, nor offer any injury. They thought it a double death, to loose their good name. They made no account of their meat, money, sleep, or ease: and little esteemed their own lives or persons, when they should make proof and show of their manhood. Their wages and stipend was so much and so well paid, that every one of them might live gallantly: and the meanest might keep to wait on him, a man or a boy. The law was that they might not Marry, and yet had lemans and women appointed by order, which they kept and used well, and all quarrels was avoided by that means. For they might not company with their women, but at certain seasons appointed. Thus they passed over their life time, without the care and trouble of wife and children. They might forsake upon a good cause, any of their lemans. And their women might at their own wills forsake the men. All those that accompanied these Soldiers were gentlewomen, and of good birth, but might not be married to any person after she had been at the soldiers commandment. And because many men by their often changing, happen to have the company of one woman, they fathered not any child, though it were never so much like them: and therefore their brother's children, did always inherit their lands and goods. And this law that those gentlemen Soldiers should not marry, was made by a king, that would not have a man of war, to fix his love on a wife and children, nor thereby to wax feeble Spirited and effeminate. But the King ordained, because these gentlemen, should have no womamnishe manners nor minds: that they should have all things at their wills, and live in such liberty, as no one thing might draw them from noble service, nor command them to servile drudgery. And because they should be the more animated to live in noble order, and encouraged to serve well: they were Privileged, that no man might emprison them for any cause, nor they might not be put to death by any mean of ordinary Justice. Howbeit when one had killed an other, or did sleep with a Country woman, or did speak evil of the King then reigning. Then would the King having true and just information of the matter, make a writing, and send the same to a head officer, commanding him to cut in pieces the offender, where soever he was found. And after he was dead, there should be hanged about him the Kings writing, to show the people wherefore he suffered: but no Law nor justice could touch him, before the King had justly condemned him.  
So by this liberty and honour that Soldiers had, is well to be seen, that none but Caesar might meddle with men of war. And it seemeth this liberty was fetched from Alexander's days, who called his old Soldiers noble men, and gave them noble Privileges and rewards: to 'cause the world that did follow, to augment their renown, and spread their fame to the highest heavens, that have been valiant on earth, and noble of mind. Which great foresight of Alexander, and other great Princes to advance Soldiers: hath made men more like Gods, then earthly creatures, and done such good to the world thereby, that there is no world, but will make of men of war, and give place to the goodness of those, that strive by stoutness of heart, and labour of body, to enlarge the limits and bounds of his country.  
The effect of this above expressed, was drawn out of Spanish, and remains among Christians, as a matter worthy noting, though Infidels did observe them.  
Now though a man have had charge, and borne a number of offices: yet the name of an old Soldier beautifies his title. But yet particularly I will go through the offices, as briefly as I may, and therein show who may justly be called gentlemen among them. A Colonel, a captain, and Ensign bearer. A Lieutenant, a Corporal, a Sergeant of the band, and an old Soldier though he never bore any office, are all gentlemen, granting and allowing that none of the Officers, were made for affection at home. But had their beginning by service in the field, and are known of good courage and conduct, and well experimented in Marshall affairs. The rest of other officers, that have noble rooms and places in the Camp, needs no setting out: for all men know such officers as are chosen, (and made by the most noble in any government) are not to be treated of, for that every Soldier gives them their due honour and place.  
You may not look for at my hands, the original and discourse of all gentlemen, albeit I go as far as I dare in that behalf. For I love not to meddle with thankless labour, and would be loath to rove beyond my reach and knowledge: in a matter that my betters, as yet have not dealt withal. For a doubtful attempt, brings a dangerous construction: And with drawing a strong Bow, a weak arm waxeth weary. He offereth himself to the hazard of many an evil tongue, that puts any pen to the paper, in a talkative world: which shoots privy bolts at every open Mark, or plain meaning mind. And commonly those that least good can do (rather then beeidell) will work most harm, with finding of a fault, and forging an offence, rather committed of ignorance, then penned of a set purpose. When a company of passengers comes to a ford, when the water is frozen all over: if a bold spirit to make the passage free, break away the Ice, and so slippeth in the water, his fellows will but mock him, and leave him over the shoes: and yet the issue must be broken, or passage is denied. It were therefore convenient, that every jack scorner should make his own way, or when he would feed, should crack his own Nut. If such as adventure a danger, be dangerously dealt with, bid thee blunt headed babbler learn more cunning, or fall in the hazard. With looking on a book that pleased me well, I have lighted but a candle, and now if any have a torch that can give greater light, bring it to the view, and I will honour it with verses. My blaze is but a Bonfire to call out the neighbours: but such as come with garlands, shallbe welcomed with a thousand salutations, and be called to the family of Fame. Where all studious and painful honest writers are registered, and remain with immortal remembrance. So now being finished my opinion, and work of the matters of war, (saving a matter meet the noting for Irish affairs and government, and Flaunders trouble) there follows a silly treatise of Calamity, which shortly seems to prove that affliction makes men happy, and prosperity neither brings forth any good fruit, nor is a ready mean to show a sound tree, or a man void of corruption. Thus gentle reader I address thee to my further labours, and reading of my discourses.  
Finis.   

And abstract of the authority, and entertainment, that was given and committed by the honourable sir Henry Sidney Knight, Lord Deputy of Ireland: to sir Humphrey Gilbert knight, during the time of his continuance and service in Munster, in Ireland. Written to show how that severe and strait handely of rebellious people, reforms them sooner to obedience, than any courteous dealing: because the stiff necked must be made to stoop, with extremity of justice, and stout behaviour.  
THe said Lord Deputy by his Commission dated the xiii. day of September. Anno do 1569. made him Colonel of the men of war in Munster, and Governor of the same Province, leaving then in his company, and under his government, captain ward, and captain Shute, either of them having under their leadynges two hundred Soldiers footmen: and he himself having to his private band a hundred horsemen clothed in Motley, part whereof served with Harquebusses, and part with horsemennes' staves, Master james Crues was at this service.  
Sir Humphrey had authority of Martial law, generally committed unto him, aswell for the execution of any within the limits of his Commission, as for the annoyance of any offender by fire and sword, or any other kind of death, according to the quality of his or their offences: as otherwise at his discretion. And to cease upon the Country for the victeling of his companies. With diverse other articles set down in his Commission, more largely than tofore had been committed to any other in that Province.  
For his entertainment as Colonel there, he had six and twenty shillings eight pence per diem allowed him.  
And for his horse band as captain thereof, eight shillings per diem.  

The order and course of his government.  
FIrst, wheresoever he came to do her Majesty service, before he attempted any thing, he proffered her highness mercy to the Rebels, were they within Holds, or in Camp: sending to them messengers, with offer of pardon both for body, goods, and lands, if they would presently yield, which if they once refused, although it were with never so mild an answer, or that they did but so much as throw a stone at the messenger, were he but a horseboy, he would never after by any means receive them to grace, but would subdue them by the sword or he departed, how dearly so ever he bought it: which done, he caused every creature of them, of all sorts and ages, to pass by the sword without remission. accounting the Prince's mercy so sacred a thing, as that it aught to be taken when it is offered, and not to be had when it is asked.  
Which course of government grew so well to be known to all men in the Country, that at the length no Ward, Castle, Forte, or Fastness, would shut their gates against him, if he sent to summon them by a horseboy▪ For they knew his determination to be such, as that if they once refused mercy being offered, and yielded not presently they must resolve themselves to die, man, woman, and child: if they could not for ever withstand him, by means whereof these commodities ensued.  
First, this his resolute and irremovable determination towards them, bred such an universal fear and terror as that thereby very many yielded without blows, bloodshed, or loss, either of their parts or his.  
Also it gave him such expedition in his services, as that thereby he recovered more Forts in some one day, then by strong hand would have been won in a year, respecting the smallness of his company. And the gaining of time, was one of his chiefest cares, both because he had no provision of victuals for his people, but pulled it as it were out of the enemy's mouth perforce. And also for that he (his company being so few in number) not knowing how to have supplies: could not bear with the loss of men, to the winning of every petty Fort.  
He performed all his actions, after such an open known course, and manner, as that he would not grant grace to an offender at any manner of request, contrary to his resolved course, so as every man knew whereto to trust.  
He further took this order infringable, that when soever he made any osting, or inroad, into the enemy's Country, he killed man, woman, and child, and spoiled, wasted, and burned, by the ground all that he might: leaving nothing of the enemies in safety, which he could possibly waste, or consume. And these were his reasons that persuaded him thereto, as I have often heard him say.  
first the men of war could not be maintained, without their Churls, and Cliacks, or women, who milked their Creates, and provided their victuals, and other necessaries. So that the killing of them by the sword, was the way to kill the men of war by famine, who by flight oftentimes saved themselves from the dint of the sword.  
Also he held it dishonourable for the Prince, to practise with Rebels to accept her majesties mercy: And therefore, he did always seem to care least for the submission of them, whom he chiefly desired to have become true. And yet by this course of government it happened, that their wives and children, whom they dearly loved, were Ambassadors to bring that to pass, which he disdained to seem to desire, or to be willing to accept.  
He never would parley with any Rebel, nor thereto permit under his charge, saying always that he thought his dogs ears to good, to hear the speech of the greatest noble man amongst them, so long as he was a Rebel.  
Also he never received any into protection, but by their own great, and long suits: and that with promise first made to perform these things following, without which he neither did, nor would by any entreaty be brought, to receive them to grace.  
first (of what estate, condition, or degree soever he were) at the first coming into his presence, he must fall down on his knees before the said Colonel, and there kneeling confess himself a traitor, and to have deserved to be hanged, and so desire her majesties pardon: after which sort there came unto him, the Earl of Glankar, the white knight Mack Donawothe, the Lord of the great Wood, and divers others Irish Lords which I omit. To which kind of humility, and submission, he drove them for this cause, that they might thereby wonder the more at her highness greatness: of whom he endeavoured in their hearings to speak as much honour as he aught: Although not so much as her Majesty deserved. Declaring unto them how that he himself was but a poor gentleman, and that the fame his authority, proceeded but as a silly branch of her highness government, and that received from the hands of a mean subject (his place reserved.)  
secondly, he should be sworn to be true, and faithful duering his life to her Majesty, and her successors, and to all such as should from henceforth (under her highness and her successors) have the care, and charge of that Country. And this he did, to the end that their consciences (if they had any) might be a clog to them, if they should infringe the same.  
thirdly, for performance of things before spoken of, every one should be bound in a Recognisance, and that in as great a some as the said Colonel should seem good, which ordinarily amounted unto so much, as very near countervailed the value of their goods and lands, or at the lest was much more than they were able to pay. And this policy he had therein, that it might lie always in the Prince, deputy, or other chief officers, thereby by colour of justice, to say any of them by the feet, for forfaiting of their bands (which he knew they all would do) and so by that means prevented a mischief, before they could commit any further act of great danger. The total somme of the Recognizances taken by him within his charge, and certified under the hands of the Majors and Townclerks of the Cities and Towns within that Province, amounted unto— 244182. l. 4. s. 5. d. q d.  
lastly every one should put such pledges in hand (for the keeping and performing of all the Articles aforesaid) as the said Colonel would demand, which he did to prevent them thereby, that they should not dare to offend. For the choice of his pledges was on this sort, he took not only those, whom the chief Lord loved best: But rather those whom his followers of greatest force, held dearest either by blood, or fosterage: to the end that they should forsake their Lord, or persecute him, if he attempted any thing to the injuring or indaungering of their dearest beloved. All which pledges he left in hand within the Cities of Cork, and Limbricke at his departing from thence.  
Farther, he never took pledge (if he were of years to speak) but by his own consent, and that upon this condition of all parts. That if he for whom he lay should become a Rebel, and should refuse to come to the said Colonel, or other chief officers, when he should be sent for: that then the pledge shall die for the offence of him (so disobaiing) that he lay for, and the other when he might be taken: And in this matter none of them durst pass through his fingers, for he always observed his orders, and course of government irremoveably, not making himself subject to any persuasion.  
Moreover he held this general rule, that what soever offendor was taken he died, or had his just punishment without redemption. Affirming himself to be of the opinion, that the noble captain Lamacus was of, who said, Quod nonest bis in bello peccare. And they which formerly did most hurt, after they were received to mercy, he had in greatest estimation, being persuaded that they had most value in them to do good service, if they would apply it well.  
His manner was that the heads of all those (of what sort soever they were) which were killed in the day, should be cut of from their bodies, and brought to the place where he encamped at night: and should there be laid on the ground, by each side of the way leading into his own Tent: so that none could come into his Tent for any cause, but commonly he must pass through a lane of heads, which he used ad terrorem, the dead feeling nothing the more pains thereby: and yet did it bring great terror to the people, when they saw the heads of their dead fathers, brothers, children, kinsfolk, and friends, lie on the ground before their faces, as they came to speak with the said Colonel. Which course of government may by some be thought to cruel, in excuse whereof it is to be answered. That he did but then begin that order with them, which they had in effect ever tofore used toward the English. And further he was out of doubt, that the dead felt no pains by cutting of their heads, according to the example of Diogenes, who being asked by his friends, what should be done with him when he died, answered in this sort: Cast me on a dunghill qd he, where unto his friends replied, saying: The Dogs will then eat you, his answer thereto was thus why then set a staff by me: Whereunto they answered, you shall not feel them, to whom he again replied with these words, what need I then to care.  
But certainly by this course of government (although to some it may seem otherwise) there was much blood saved, and great peace ensued in haste. For through the terror, which the people conceived thereby, it made short wars. For he reformed the whole Country of Munster, and brought it into an universal peace, and subjection, within six weeks: leaving at his coming from thence james Mack Morres as a wood Kerne, accompanied only at the most not with above seventeen men: who at his first coming thither commanded many a thousand. Which reformation, and establishement of the Country's peace there performed, presently came from thence, and so left his charge there with sufficient pledge, bond, and pawn, for the good behaviour of every Lord, and captain for themselves, and their followers, refusing no dutiful service ever since.   

An abstract of some of his particular services.  
EMongeste many others, these particular services following he did in person, of which only I have thought good to make rehearsal of these few, omitting the rest.  
first with 150. footmen, he serving then a private captain, under the leading of master Edward Randolphe then his Colonel at Knockfargus, he stood firmly in the plain field, charged with four thousand footmen, and six hundred horsemen of Onyles company, and there killed and hurt of the enemy about two hundred, having of his company in all not above thirty hurt and slain. This service was done for the rescuing of captain Wilforde, and captain ward, who although they ventured themselves farther than reason would, to 'cause certain disordered Soldiers to retire, stirred thereunto through the tender care of the soldiers safeties: They did so valiantly behave themselves therein, as that they worthily deserved great commendation.  
The second service was done by Kylkennie the third of julie a thousand five hundred sixty and nine, where he being accompanied with master Henry Davels, a noble and valiant gentleman, now slain by John of Desmond, and xii. others, went from sir Peter Carewe knight, with pretence but to view the Rebels. And yet with that small number, charged he them at the least forty score, before all the rest of his company: the rebels being then in number about twelve hundred, as it was reported, and standing then in battle ray. The said sir Peter Carewe, and one Appesley Lieutenant to the said Colonel coming next after him, accompanied with the horseband of the said Colonel, and a certain of master captain Wingefeeldes soldiers, who were that day in the vanguard, amounting in the whole to the number of a hundredth and twenty horse. captain Malbe, and captain Bassenet following in the rearward, either of them having under their leadynges fifty horsemen. In this charge the said Collonelles black curtal horse, whereupon he then served, was very sore hurt under him in eight places.  
The third service was done by Kylmallocke, the xxiv. day of September 1569. wherewith his own horseband he skirmished with three thousand rebels at the lest, the Earl of Glanckar being then there amongst them in person with divers other Lords and Captains of countries. In this skirmish all his company were beaten from him, saving one Tadcastell, a Soldier of his own band, who standing with him in defending of a Ford, was in th'end slain. And he himself being left alone, and enforced to defend the same, kept it a great while against very near thirty horsemen, james Macke Morres, R●wrey, Macke She, the chief captain of the Desmondes Gallowglasses, the Lord of the great Wood, Pursell Suppell, Edmonde Sites Dani, with divers other gentlemen amongst them. Also in this skirmish his black curtal horse, of whom I spoke of before, was hurt in divers places of the body, and was shot through the neck with a Harquebus. And the said Collonelles Targatte was stricken through with divers darts, besides many blows on his Armour, but in person not hurt. Whereat the Irish wondered so much they made sundry songs and Rhymes of him (and his black curtal horse) imagining himself to have been an enchanter, that no man could hurt riding on a Devil.  
And here is to be specially noted, that in all the services before spoken of, and at most of such other services as were done by the said Colonel in Munster, captain Ward and master crews showed themselves very forward, and valiant. And therefore in that respect they have deserved commendation, which in nowise is to be forgotten.  
The said sir Henry Sidney Lord Deputy, invested the said Colonel with the title and honour of knighthood, for his good service on Newyears' day 1569, and so came he into England, where he hath remained a while the most part in Court: Since that he served the Prince of Orrange, in the cause of Religion in Zelande and Flaunders, where being genial of two thousand English: he had for the entertainment of his own person in wages and other allowances, very near ten thousand Marks per Annum, besides very large allowances for all the Officers, Captains and Soldiers under his regiment.  
At an other time sir John Parrot being as lord justice in a Province of Ireland, behaved himself so nobly, and used such severe justice, that no one Lord nor other under his charge, durst any way offend him For he neither granted pardon (but upon marvelous great cause) nor would give ear to a, parley: But always proceeded in such a manly manner, and stout resolution of mind, that he was both feared and beloved. And so much desired of good men to tarry in the country: that the bad sort to this day, are afeard to hear his name rehearsed. He was such a scourge to the wicked, and such a comfort to the worthy. Whose particular services (if laisure presently served me) I would publish to sir John Parrots great glory and commendation.   
Finis.   

¶ A Mirror for rebels to look into, where the death of one Roorie Oge in Ireland (whose life was always without order) doth show that the reward of vice is ever open shame, and a foul end.  
IN an other season of Irish services, and trial of such as are doubted, a practice was drawn by a stubborn and stout Rebel called Roorie Oge: For the betraying of captain Harryngton, and one master Coesbie, and albeit captain Harryngton had been in notable and dangerous service, the space of ten years before, (where many practices were to be seen and avoided). Yet this drift of Roorie Oges was so cunningly handled, no former experience might prevent it: So that Roorie Oge by this cautel and traitorous manner, had his purpose brought to effect, and did what he pleased with captain Harryngton, using him cruelly with all manner of rude handling and entertainment. Fast locked to a post every night a great season, and at length the English Captains being moved with this cruelty, found a devise to beset the house, where Roorie Oge haunted: and the traitor seeing himself in danger, came in a rage to captain Harryngton, and gave him twelve great wounds, where he lay locked to a post, and so left him for dead, the English Soldiers hearing captain Harryngton call for help, were thrusting into the house: But Roorie Oge most stoutly ran out among them, and by a desperate adventure escaped through the thickest of the throng, and did much hurt after. But at this presence the captain was brought away all to be mangled and hurt: and all those that were found alive in the house, were slain and put to the sword, in so much that the wife of Roorie Oge was in like sort dispatched of her life. For which act many foul murders & other cruelties, Roorie Oge committed. But when that captain Harryngton was healed, he persecuted Roorie Oge so hardly and so often, that he put him divers times in danger to be overthrown. Master Parcker as I heard say, Lieutenant to captain Furs with his valiant Soldiers, recovered captain Harryngton out of the hands of his enemies. And to be short, a means was found after long services and dangerous attempts, that Roorie Oge himself was entrapped, and taken in a Net and stolen, that he had made and laid for an other. The manner whereof was, that Roorie Oge being desirous to betray the Lord of Vpprosserie, did draw a drift (by one, that could finely handle the matter) that he himself should seem to fall in danger, and so be delivered unto my Lord of Upprosseries hands, who noting the device (giving no farther credit to the tale then need required) armed his men privily in two companies, and made as though he would follow the fellow, that came to bring about Roories' drift, and coming where Roorie had lodged, pursued the enterprise, and seemed to follow the advice of him that came to practise. And by chance and good fortune, the two companies mentioned of before, had environed Roorie Oge ere he was ware, and thereby he was defeated, and had the reward of iniquity by the self same means, that he was wont to serve others. A notable just judgement of God, and an example worthy the noting.  
Now after this, and for many good causes and pieces of service, captain Harryngton was made Knight, by the honourable Sir Henry Sidney, than Lord deputy of Ireland. And when he gave up the Sword, Sir William Drury was the justice, in whose time and especially in the beginning of his government, was many things to be done, that might show a Martial mind, and express the worthiness of a noble governor. For than one sir james Fitz Morris (a great practisien with the Pope and other Potentates) entered Ireland with seven Ships, bringing with him both Soldiers, and other people to disquiet a state: Yea, and had such a number of persuasions, for the troubling of a Common weal, that this Fitz Morris drew to his side, a multitude of licentious and lawless people, in so much that the company grew so great, that sir John of Desmonde (a man of good birth, and ill disposition) joined himself with that party, committing an execrable murder before he began to revolt, and slew an English gentleman, that had long before been his friend, and used the murder so heinously, and against all natural kindness, that every man's heart that thinks thereon, abhors the remembrance thereof. For under a pretence of amity, Sir John of Desmonde got his friend in a trap (which friend had done him great service and pleasure) and so suddenly steps unto him, and gave him a mortal blow, notwithstanding the followers of sir John, were not willing to go about such a murder. But when John of Desmond had begun the broil, the bloodshed and Butchery followed, not only on good Henry Davelles, but also on others as innocent as himself of any such slaughter, and unmerciful dealing. Well these things, and an infinite number of strange matters (set abroach by james Fitz Morres) might have appalled the spirit of greater personages than I speak of. Yet the honourable and Soldier-like sir William Drury, in most assured hope of victory, made head upon the enemies and prepared, with the help of the Earl of Kildare, and others very honourable (and of good calling, loyal subjects in Ireland) to withstand the great force and fury of Fitz Morres: Which at that season waxed so warm and extreme hot, that sundry become cold in good will, that were thought to be fervent in the service of the Prince. But the might and force of a rightful quarrel and the ready diligence and forwardness of a good governor, so plucked up the hearts of those that began to droop, that one hundred of the English side seemed a thousand, and five thousand on the contrary part, proved nothing in effect. For the hearts of rebels trembleth, where the Prince's power is presented, and the wits and purposes of savage people, goes a wool gathering: when the civil Soldier is certainly grounded in a manly determination. As it seemed by all those that followed the Lord justice, and their noble success of service doth argue evidently, that troth and courageous Soldiers of God, are never forsaken, and rebellious minds are doubtful of life, destituted of grace, and uncertain of every thing they go about.  
Fitz Morres in this manner as you have heard, landing and fortisiing for his most surety: left no way unsought, that might annoy and hinder the hope of the englishmen, and in many kinds of practices excelled, and waxed strong as he thought: And as divers affirm he was stout, valiant, and of knowledge sufficient to encumber a sound, and a whole Country. But in fine, it happened upon some oversight of Fitz Morres (or set purpose of God) that his cunning failed him, his force was but ill, and his fortune worse. For in the middle of his traitorous triumphing, he tasted the right recompense of rebellion, and was slain in the field, his head brought into Cork Town, and his body and reputation, buried in the grave of reproach and infamy.  
The Lord justice had by this time, or in short time after, received some succour and aid out of England. And sir John Parrot as Admiral of four of the queens Ships, master William Gorge, master Nicholas Gorge, master Gilbart York, captain Peers, captain Awdley, captain Hind, accompanying him as Captains appointed for that service. Sir William Morgan, master Pellam, master Bousser, master Broncker, master William Norrice, master Crofttes, master John Soutche, and many other lusty Captains, and Gentlemen of good regard, were in like sort appointed for the service of Ireland. But what was done, and the rehearsal thereof, I commit to those that liveth to Register, and keep in memory men's labours and services hereafter. Which writers in giving life to matters, that time may wear out of mind: are not only well occupied, but likewise makes good Soldiers imitate and follow the noble footsteps of those that went before them: by which means God's glory is advanced, and our Country's honour is upholden and worthily defended.  
Finis.   

¶ A small rehearsal of some special services in Flaunders of late, part whereof were in the time of Don Ihons' government and the rest being done in the present service of the Prince of Parma, now governor of Flaunders.  
THE remembrance of a book dedicated to the right honourable Sir Frances Walsyngham touching the troubles of Flanders: moves me again to put pen to Paper in that behalf. Briefly to begin where I left (which was a matter of Don John) and proceed a little in the doings of the Prince of Parma presently in action and place of great matter expected. And because my most desire is to advance the Soldiers of England, as well as to publish the services of foreign countries, I omit many things that strange Nations have been exercised withal. And declare somewhat in the favour of mine own countrymen, that serve and have served under the Prince of Orange, and States of the Low Country, meaning not to meddle with matter of State (that passeth my reach and capacity) but familiarly to treat of such things, as the common sort of people do carp upon, and is sufferable to be written of. As much to delight the reader that searcheth for novelty, as any other cause that moves me to this labour, and rehearsal of service.  
The huge and great armies, the long continuance of troubles: the passages and and discourses of manifold miseries, and the open Plague, and disturbance of poor afflicted Flaunders, I refer to the unsearchable wisdom of the Almighty, and the grave judgement of the world. And hearing the certainty of some skirmishes, and services of late: I follow the troth of new matter, that falls next into my memory.  
You have heard, and the world can witness, that Don John before his death (being desirous of fame and victory) sought and practised all means possible, to come to his purpose: and knowing where and in what order the states lay, and what straits were kept by the policy of Mounsire de Bussie, General of the Camp for the States. He determined with a full resolute mind, manfully to attempt some exploit, that might amaze the Prince of Orranges' side, and pluck up the courages of his own people, that lay a long season idly, from doing of any great enterprise. And so thereupon Don John in a manner gave to understand (as by the sequel was perceived) that he would visit the camp of the States, or win such straits from them, as should be much to their discontent, and his great advantage.  
In the year of our Lord 1578. the wars being then at the hottest betwixt the estates and the King, (the estates having a great puissant army in the field, under the conduct of the Grave of Busie. The King having also an other under the leading of Don John his base brother.) It happened the first of August, the enemy to visit the army of the states, who lay then entrenched in the field, near unto a Town called Reminant. The Army being composed of divers nations, both horsemen and footmen: there was one regiment of English of twelve hundred, under the leading of the Colonel Candishe, and in his absence his Lieutenant Colonel Richard Bingham. The said Lieutenant and no other General officer of that Nation, being commanded to the field by the General of the states, led forth the whole number of shot that was under his charge viz. six hundred. The leaders under him of the regiment, were captain Laukynges, captain Fitz Willyams, captain Edwardes, the Lieutenant Paddon, the Lieutenant Dalton, the Lieutenant Chubbe, well accompanied with divers other worthy gentlemen and officers. Being thus appointed with direction, to leave in a sure guard upon the next Mount to the trench, and with the rest to make head to the enemy, and to entertain him as he should see cause, offered at sight of the eye, keeping evermore the straight on the right hand: and Steward with the Scots on the left hand, having now placed a sufficient guard upon the Mount, and sent captain Fitz Willyams' farther forth by a quarter of a mile, to assure them of an other ground and strength of advantage. He receives commandment again from the General, that he should leave the Mount, and draw his forces to the Church, which stood about an English Mile from the Mount, and upon the said straight whereupon he presently left the Mount, leaving behind captain Fitz William to guard the place of advantage, where he first left him, being a place of great importance. And with the rest he maketh way to the Bridge, where he left the Lieutenant Paddon, with Chubbe and their companies in guard of the place: and to stand fast for a relief, to those that he led more forward to the Church. Being now arrived at the Church, with captain Liggins his Lieutenant Dalton. And captain Edwardes with a three hundred shot, he sendeth up to the Steeple two of his Soldiers to discover the enemy, who presently showed that they might see the fair Hethe, which was yet half an English Mile further, and upon it the whole power of the enemy in battalions, both horsemen and footmen: and further that they marched in for both the straits. The Lieutenant not reposing to much trust in the two private Soldiers, leapt of from his horse, and went up the Steeple himself, where as soon as he had discovered the enemy, and perceived him to make in, for both the streigtes, he presently at his coming down, commanded captain Liggins to stand fast with two hundred shot at the Church, and taking with him the Lieutenant Dalton, Edwardes, Finche, and Straubrige, with divers other gentlemen officers with two hundred shot. He maketh head to the straight, where he found the enemy coming fast on to enter the same. Who forthwith disbanded certain shot, led by the aforesaid Dalton, and Edwardes, and entertained them with the skirmish so sufficiently, as he forced them to give ground, and to retire towards the straight, which Steward had in guard, so far that in the action, he brought himself betwixt the enemy and the Scots, who mistaking the company, gave them from the Hedge where they lay, such a volley of shot, as made them to loose more ground, than ever the enemy could have doen. The enemy in the mean time, perceiving that, (and fought upon a retreat) came on with great fury, being supplied with fresh numbers: But could not for all he might do, force them to abandon the straight, till such time as certain English men that were within the Closes to discover, brought word that the enemy had entered the straight upon the Scots, which was very true. For even at the instant the fire was seen to arise in the village, and the whole forces that were to enter, betwixt the water and the English companies, to retire themselves unto the Hethe again. The Scots making good their fight upon the retreat, the Lieutenant was likewise driven to do the same, which if he had not, the enemy had cut betwixt him, his company, and the trenches. This being well perceived by captain Liggins, who was as is said, left at the church for a relief by the Lieutenant: the captain presently advanced himself, and was now come half the way, to the succour of the Lieutenant, and to prevent the enemy, and join himself with the forces of the Lieutenant. They altogether retire unto the Church, and perceiving that the enemy came on apace, the Lieutenant leaveth Captain Liggins, and Dalton his Lieutenant, at a reasonable ground of strength to entertain them: and he himself rideth back to the bridge, to fetch the relief for captain Liggyns his retreat, which relief was led by the Lieutenants Paddon and Chubbe, where he found it of more strength than he thought of. For he found his brother captain Bingham come forth with all the shot of his company: being so willed by captain Palmer the Sergeant Mayor of that regiment, who commanded him from his ward.  
The enemy seeing the straight of that way, and that their other forces prevailed more upon the other straight, forsook any longer to attempt the same against the English: and retired them as they might on the side over the Closes, to join them with their other forces, which had even now passed the straight, which the Scots had in guard. Who all together made head up to the hill, and so to the burnt house, then fired by the Scots in their retreat: who at that instant forsook the field, and retired them all into the Campe. Not far from which place was captain Fitz Willyams, to whose turn it now came. The Lieutenant perceiving the enemy to be advanced, as near the Trenches as he himself was. Commanded his troops to march with all speed towards Fitz Willyans to bring themselves altogether on the head of the enemy, and betwixt them and the Trenches. Where at his arrival he sent the Lieutenant Dalton with fifty shot into a close, to beat them on the flank, and himself with the others, dealt with them on frunte. Here was Dalton with his encountered, and two or three of his slain, and of the enemies as many.  
At this time came in captain Fludde, one of master Morgan's companies, and was the first that came in of the eleven Ensigns, to the great comfort and encouragement of the other power, that were of master Norris his Regiment. From the time that the Lieutenant General of master Candishes regiment, first entered into skirmish on the far Hethe, until this time were passed two hours, and from his first going forth three.  
This captain Fludd had his march on the rearward of master Norris his regiment, which was even now all entered into the Estates Camp, and was their first arriving to the same. After that captain Fludde had delivered divers volleys of shot, they retired to the hill having spent their powder. In this skirmish which was very well maintained, by the forces of master Candishes Regiment, as also now by some of the other, was slain the captain Liggins, and one master Shilton, and master Sands sore hurt, whereof not long after he died, and master Wingfeelde who recovered, with divers others hurt and slain. About this time came in captain Gill, Lieutenant of master Norrisses private band, accompanied with certain squadrons of shot of the said band. After this came in captain Salesburie, with divers troops of master John Cobham's, and captain Aumond, with the shot of his own company. As also captain Cromwell with some of his own company, and divers other gentlemen: as master Frances Fourder, master Anthony Ellis, captain Erryngton, all which Captains and gentlemen, behaved themselves very sufficiently, and with great valour and courage, joined themselves with the Captains and companies of master Candishes Regiment, who as you have heard, were there long before, and never departed the field, but had always their relief of powder brought unto them into the field, by Smithe the Provost Martial: who received the same of Palmer they Sergeant Mayor, who was left within the Camp, to provide such necessaries, as also to govern the Trenches of the English quarter, which captain Markain had in charge, with the armed men of that Regiment, where he remained and served all that day. As time had passed a two hours more in sore skirmish of both sides, master York came into the field (who had been busy within, about the division of their quarter) for the eleven Ensigns, which as you have heard, were that forenoon arrived. To whom the Lieutenant master Byngham showed the abuse of Soldiers, that were of that Regiment, who would not be retired, nor obey his commandment. Master York answered, that he had then little to do with them, upon which master Bingham demanded for master Norris: to whom he meant to signify their disorder and disobedience: As these speeches passed betwixt them, they saw the whole force and power of the enemy's Army, that were within the strait, to move and altar their present state, with sound of Trumpet and Drum, presenting and advaunsing them, both horsemen and foot men towards us: whereupon the Lieutenant demanded of master York what it might signify, either to charge us in gross, or else to make their retreat, being doubtful which of these two, the enemy would forthwith put in use, the said two gentlemen to prevent the worst, and to assure themselves, and the state of the whole Army, thought good to possess themselves of a hill, or ground of advantage, which lay very near the enemy. For which ground these gentlemen forthwith made for (and also master Roger Willyams came in on their left hand to the same) who had not long before in the field, before the Viscount of Gant and the rest, most variantly encountered with a Spaniard, and as worthily acquitted himself of the same) at their entering or charging for the Hill, they made signs that their forces should follow. Who being arrived and possessed of the ground, descended from their horses to encourage the whole numbers and troops of our Nation to the service to follow, which they began to do very fast. The first that came in was the captain master Roger Byngham, accompanied with divers Gentlemen and Soldiers, as master Huzey, master Knight, master Temple, with many more: The other brother came in upon the higher ground, more near the Hethe with a fifty or sixty, with him, some of that band, and some of others, with which the said captain incontinent entered into skirmish with the enemy from the Hill, and the corner of the Heath to their forces; which were placed all a long under a Hedge. This skirmish was so well maintained of both sides, that they grew very near the one to the other: and divers slain on both sides. As the actions passed in this heat of shot, the horse of master York was stricken with a bullet, through which he was forced to forsake the Hill or place: giving a note thereof by word from himself, to the Lieutenant. Who fearing least the going away of that horse, from the Hill inward would stay or discourage those, that were coming into their succours or aid. Scent one of his men to his brother the captain, willing him to fight or deal warily upon a reteate: And leapt himself to horse, to hasten and bring them in, which by this means or charge he doubted of, and were coming even in this mean while: The enemy charged with great fury captain Bingham, and the rest that were with him, who most worthily choose rather to cell his life dearly, with the slaughter of some of his enemies, then in vile and disorderly sort to retire, yet made he an orderly retreat into the high way, in which there came up on the left hand, a great troop of the enemies, who environed or cast them about: with this the Lieutenant came in with succours, who was encountered with the said enemy twenty paces, before he could arrive at the captain: and was so hardly charged, and oversaied with number, that he was forced to fight pelle melle in a retreat, all a long under the Hedge, till he came to the elbow, or bought of the close, where captain Edwardes, the Lieutenant of master Cabendiches' company came in to him, well accompanied with the shot of that band, with the aid of which the Lieutenant General charged the enemy again with a great fury and courage, forcing them to a main retreat even to the Hill, or corner of the Hedge, where they finding their fresh reserved troops & strength, charged us again the second time, with greater fury than before. For it stood them in hand to give us our filles, that they might make their retreat with safety, forcing the Lieutenant again to a general retreat: upon this second retreat came in the chief General of our Nation, Master Norris, to whom the Lieutenant addressed him, being then extreme weary, both in body and mind, for the doubtful estate of his brothers, and the other gentlemen, as whether they were taken or slain, which he signified forth with to the General master John Norris. Who being fresh and lusty, endeavoured himself most worthily, in commanding charge of all hands, with which the enemy was again repulsed to his ordinary guard of strength: being brought to this state: there began again a hot skirmish betwixt them, in which was neither sword nor powder spared. The enemy seeing the great courage of the English, who would not leave them, but were hard at their heels: was doubtful how to make his retreat with any assurance, thought good in policy to give us a main charge once again, with as great fury as they might. And this was the third time, and the last that they pierced our Nation, in which they forced us further than ever before, even to the corner of the close, next to our Trenches. At which place came in Captain Fitz Willyams with a reasonable good troop, who the Lieutenant commanded to charge on the enemy, and promise do follow him in the back as he did, but as he came to the elbow of the close, he met the said Capitain coming about, sore beaten, and all the place from that to the Hill, employed with the companies of both sides in fight of pelle melle, with divers encounters of many worthy men of courage upon this occasion or fight, we stood longer then in any other before. Here they gave us so much as we were well content, (after we had forced them to retire) to take a pause on it. Attending the coming of the Colonel Morgan, who was set forward from the trenches, with a good troop to our succours. And truly though he were not in the field, yet did he very worthy service within the Camp, in giving order for us to be supplied in divers cases: As also in fastening and assuring the minds, of a number of fearful strangers. Who had their wagons and packs all ready trust to fly, only resting upon the assurance of our Nation. In this mean while the lances of the enemy had passed the strait, in their retreat back again: and lay at the mouth of the strait towards us, seven or eight companies of Harquebuses on horseback, to deal with them that would attempt to pursue them. Their footmen that had been so long in action with us, seeing their retreat prepared for, and their time come without sound of Drum, stolen away over two or three closes, till they passed the crossway, that went towards the strait on the right hand. At this crossway they had placed a relief of shot, which was employed against master Norris, and the rest that followed him. From this crossway, and corner which was a ground of strength: they delivered a volley in bravery, and somewhat in policy more than to hurt, on the instant of which volley of shot they took their heels over the Medes and ditches, and never turned till they came to the far Heath, where they found the Lances, for their guard: who presently conducted them into the Army. And themselves, made the rearward with the shot on horse, that lay yet more behind at the mouth of the strait, towards our trenches, as I have showed you before, over two or three closes they were paste, before we could learn of their fearful retreat. Yet were there divers lusty fellows of ours, that were in with the hindmost, and took some prisoners.  
The Prince of Parma coming to the government of Flaunders, after the death of Don John (whose value is weighed by the wisdom of the world) began politicly and manfully to use his authority: For so the case required, considering divers Governors bearing the Torch before him, and he with a little Candle must either follow their steps, or go the course his own light should lead him. And being wearied with worldly affairs (though young of years) sought sundry ways to ease the burden of his breast, both by policy and causes, that hap hazard might bring to good perfection) and so bending his study and spirits, about some dangerous adventure, and noble attempt. He first made a show, as though he would have besieged Antwarpp (bringing a power on the spur, to amass the world) and in that ronning camp amused their wits, that saw but into the outward shows of ordinary causes▪ and therewith all when the bravado was made towards Antwarppe (on which town the whole State depended) and some of the Prince of Parmas' men went, and ventured very far, yet siue of English and others a number scarce worthy hearing.  
The Prince of Parma retired, and immediately upon good direction and order, besieged Mastricke, a marvelous strong Town subject to no evil, but misfortune or man's policy. Which Town showed itself so well and worthily, that I must needs (without any great intelligence of every particular services) writ of the notorious matters, that fell out during the time of the siege. And for that the noble minds, and great courages of men, delights in doing great things, and hearing of mighty matters. It is reason in answering their hopes and judgements, to delate a little, and make a long discourse, of these Martial affairs. For such a noble behaviour of Soldiers on both sides, may not be forgotten, nor be left bore and naked, from the robes of renown, and remembrance of the world.  
The spaniards and others what soever, that served the Prince of Parma, made a stout and gallant approach to the Town of Mastricke: In which attempt, they of the Town were tried and found, both able to resist, and willing to defend. Their skirmishes and manner of war, did to the uttermost show, there was no faintness of heart, nor lack of force, to withstand a stout enemy. For every Minute of an an hour, they offered as much bravery and bold courage, as any people that ever were in our days, did abide the siege: set Haddyngton apart.  
Well, now the spaniards placed the Camp in good order, the Country near about in subjection: the Munition ready, and all necessaries for a siege provided for, the Battery was planted, and every Trench guarded and looked to, in the most warlike sort and manner might be devised. Notwithstanding they of the Town made many sallies, and issued so often, that it was thought, neither their courage was to be daunted, nor their Town to be won.  
But the Prince of Parma minding only victory, and persuading nothing but hazard of life, or danger of body, framed his Soldiers to such a resolution of mind, that they thought neither vamures of earth, nor walls of brass might keep them from their desired conquest: with which resolution in the face of the shot, and laps of their enemies, they lighted very often, yet scambled out of peril, as the present mischief would suffer, and every man might make shift for himself.  
There was to be seen between these two people, such stoutness of mind, and practise of wit, that nothing was forgotten, that might give grace to the one, or bring good fortune to the other. So in this sort a long season was spent, and no small charges bestowed, greatly to the disquietness of both the parties, and wonder of their neighbours (far or near) that daily gaped for news, and were fed with such reports, as the packets unfolded, and the Posts would make brute of.  
And all this while they within the Town hoped for succour, and their enemies without, were but to withstand any power should approach them: And made a full account, either to give battle, or win the town they had besieged. The Battery was plied, the Cannons went of, the wildfire was flung, the engines of war were occupied, the soldiers were ready to assault, and the Mine was thrust full of powder, to blow up the walls, and all the cruelty and terror that could be invented, was speedily set abroach, too make the murder and bloodshed the more. The people of Mastricke had made a counter Mine, and in the time of the assault, siue the workmen under the earth, and defended their walls most manfully: which was assailed with such a fury and courage, as though a meinie of Giants, had set upon a few children: or a multitude of Wolves, had run upon a poor and simple flock of Sheep. But yet for all this fury, and dreadful manner of approach, the Soldiers assaulted did show themselves so valiant, that the assailants were forced after long fight (at the push of the Pike) to retire, and shrink from the breach, and with great loss of many a noble Soldier, turn their faces from their enemies, and draw themselves from danger, to the safeguard of their Trenches, and guarding of their Campe.  
This first assault was so stoutly withstood, that a long while after the Town took some rest: But the spaniards weighing not their lives, and waxing angry for this repulse, made sundry sharp approaches. When many legs, and arms, by mean of the Mines five up in the air, as though a tempest or whirl wind, had blown a few feathers, or gotten under a lose bundle of Straw: yea, the Mines at one time were so terribly set on fire, and shaked a pieces (by a number of barrels of powder) that you would have thought it had Thundered, or the world had been at an end, and the judgement day had been come. So pitifully the bodies and heads of people five about the fields, for thereby the Clouds were dimmed with glouming smoke and smother. A sight most dreadful to behold, and as a man might say, a very hell upon earth, where divers bloody wretches and Ruffians do die, without any hope of heaven, or regard of God.  
Well, in this miserable manner and plight, the people of Mastricke continued full many a heavy day and week, and yet always the greatest loss fell on their enemy's part, who nevertheless become so venturous and hardy, by this their hard Fortune: That they were in a manner as desperate, as wild Bulls, that neither cares for Dogs, nor shunneth no danger. And in deed the Prince of Parmaes' power, were become such Tigers and Lions, that they thought no force could resist their fury, nor no people could match them in courage and valiancy. Such was the greatness of their minds, and desire of worldly fame and glory, the only stirrer up of stoutness in a soldiers stomach, and the principle point that a man of war careth for, and holdeth in reputation.  
And in this pride and gallaunce conceit of doing what they pleased, they made no more of the loss of half a score Ensigns of men, then of a handful of Rushes, or a truss of Hey. For when a thousand, or two thousand Soldiers were slain at the assault, or at any piece of service, they erected new bands, and furnished old places with a present supply of such Nations, as would enter into wages, and though the long lying in the cold, and keeping of the camp, made both horse and man stiff as a stake, and a weary of Winter weather. Yet would they set such a show, and bravery on the matter, as though they had gone about some Summer May game, or a Christmas pastime, walking and sporting before the Town they besieged: as they had run at the Base, in a pleasant piece of ground, and goodly green Meadow. The manner whereof and boldness of that behaviour, made the lookers on that were in a pittefold (and peeping out at a hole by stealth) think of strange devices, and have many busy Bees in their heads.  
Now it happened through long besieging, many assaults and great Batteries, that the people of Mastricke were so well acquainted with mischief and misery, that each thing was welcome, that Fortune (by God's appointment) had sent, or by any occasion fell out. But always with wisdom, labour, and policy, they prepared to defend and provided a net and cunning trap to deceive their enemies, and when they thought lest of a Stratagem, they should fall in danger, and pay many a life for their pastime. So the day approached of a most terrible assault (when the Town was threatened to be won) and the Camp stood in battle, the horse men were mounted, the bloody Ensigns were spread, and the Drums and Trumpets sounded a slaunghter, and the Alarun was given. Then towards the breach the spaniards began to march, where they were received with the poshe of the Pike, and the bullet of the Harquebus, and fought withal very nobly, a marvelous great season, in so much that the spaniards were likely with much loss, to retire and be driven back. But as a great storm beateth down mighty Trees: And a strong stream driveth feeble fish before it. So the power of the spaniards pierced through the breach, and entered the Town, and possessed a great plot of ground, (which in deed was undermined) and even as they thought all had been their own, fire was given to the train of powder, and two or three thousand of the spaniards side, were blown as high as the highest wall in the Town: and thereupon the soldiers of Mastricke gave a lusty charge on their enemies, and so drove numbers out at the breach, some with burnt faces, some with broken arms, some with halting legs, and very few free of hurt, or unmangled in some one place or other: and he that sped best returned with rebuke, and escaped a bloody Butchery. A heavy sight to behold, and a thing that Harlam often times before, had offered the duke of Alua's Soldiers. But those that are bent to go about worthy enterprises, refuseth no hazards, nor weighs nothing but the worthiness of manhood, and honour of their Prince, as here you may perceive by the Prince of Parmas' Soldiers, who no terror nor torment, could turn from attempting the assault.  
But yet after this broil and hard encounter, they made more curtchie and took better advisement, before they went in hand with so great a hazard, and so dwelling upon devices, and resting on such policies as might surprise the Town: They made many signs of assaults, and occupied poor people with divers imaginations, whiles they went about a Mine, and so to creep in through a cave, and get into the Town by a Cloister, and house of Religion, which Mine covertly handled, they brought to pass (albeit many times a counter Mine was made against them) and having done that served their purpose for to enter, and give a general assault, they gave the Alarm, and approached the breach (forgetting not to arrange their battles, for the States had a power near them, and were likely to have given an Alarm to the Camp) and whiles a few bands made head to the breach, and a general assault had beset the Town round about. A great company being in the Mine began to show themselves, and to sound drums and Trumpets, at the backs of those that defended the breach, who looking behind them, and espying the Ensigns of the spaniards, betook themselves suddenly to flight, and leaving the breach, ran over the bridge to an other piece of the Town. But the throng was so great, and the fear of death so much among the common people, that all amazed, and past hope of life, stood both man, woman, and child, that never saw the like conflict, nor could not shifted for their lives. So some flang down weapon, cast of their armour, held up their hands to the heavens, smote their woeful breasts, and kneeled before the face and feet of their enemies, crying for mercy, where little was to be found. And some ran into corns, Churches, Hospitals, and among Religious persons. But they rather found a sword, than succour, and destruction sooner than comfort, and happened in their hands, that sought both blood and victory: and had no more mind of mercy (for a season till victory was certain) then the cruel Tigers have when they prey, and feed on little Lambs) thus having victory at will, and the town in subjection. The spaniards followed so fast after the fleers, and fearful discomfited people, that one of them ran over an other: Not one could neither help his self, nor secure his neighbour. So that wives with children in their arms, and armed men being become children in craving of mercy, were all a like served. Where upon is to be judged, that yielding in extremity bringeth death, or utter servitude, and hazarding life for liberty, the sword may either make place to escape by, or suddenly bring the dispatch that rids men from misery, and puts them from the rage of a tyrant. For in fighting each party stands in doubt (by which a manly mind is not conquered) and in yielding the one part is master, and the other made a captive, and peradventure a servant to captives, that neither can show spark of pity, nor dram of good mind. Wherefore in assaults, in battles, and matter of fury, manhood is to be used (of him that is most in hazard) and mercy not to be hoped for, when manhood abideth the uttermost of Fortune, and hath done their enemies the greatest despite they can work.  
Thus following the poor people in Mastrick they were clean void of courage, or shift to help themselves withal. The Town was taken, wherein some English men were found, which were left alive of a band that served, whereof one master Brooke was captain, who was sore hurt ere he did yield: and whose company served all that siege so stoutly, that the Spaniards feared them more, then double the number of the rest. Albeit the rest of Soldiers generally were given to stand to their defence: and so well defended the Town, that was sharply assaulted and besieged, as I have not heard of. So that it is hard to judge, which of the two sides deserved most honour: the matter was so manly maintained on both the parties, with such a resolute mind and determination, to win liberty, or loose life.  
There were after this siege some other services, but none so great: nor none of them I mind to treat of as yet, for that I have bent my study, to pleasure the Readers of my book, with other fancies, & variety of matter. The change of matter, and manner of writing thereof, I hope shall rather bring delight, then breed weariness. For that which doth presently follow, is set out purposely with a number of devices to occupy time withal, and pleasure them that hath any good disposition towards the work.  
FINIS.   

¶ A description or discourse, that declareth how that by tasting of miseries, men become happy: written for that Soldiers always bears the burden of Sorrow, and suffers more calamity than any other people.  
GOod readers, for that calamity and cumbersome chances, do seem intolerable too bear (and for our first father's offence, they are the burdens of life, and companions of man till the hour of his death) I being often charged with the heavy farthel of misfortunes: have taken in hand to treat of a troubled mind, and show what blessedness and benefit to the body and soul this worldly infelicity bringeth.  
As the common afflictions of mankind are many in number, and seem at the first feeling so irksome and weighty, that few can suffer them, or support them. So a multitude of miseries accustometh the mind so long, in the sharpness of sorrows, that a sound judgement is made the more able thereby, to abide the brunt of troubles: and attend for a short season a remedy of mischiefs, by proof the troth of this is tried. For let the labouring man, or ordinary porter (that daily carries great burdens) be often used to lift up packs: he shall better bear a great Log, than an other that is fine fingered, shall be able to heave a small piece of Timber. And there is none that laboureth so sore, but is sure at one time or other, to attain to rest and commodity. So that all sorrows are to be counted, but a sharp sauce to season the appetite, and bring the sweet and delicate dishes in such order, that it glut not the stomach.  
And now to consider how all pleasures are possessed, and profits take their beginnings. The very issue and original of those earthly commodities, springs only from continual care and pain: and laborious vexation of body and mind. The greatest glories, and chiefest seats of honour anywhere, are gotten and compassed by this kind of calamity, and the least or most spark of man's delight is maintained (and at the length enjoyed) by the mean of studious labour, and painful exercises.  
But herein to be brief, pain and labour is the portion appointed for man in his pilgrimage, and they that are most persecuted (so they be not tempted above their strength) are most to be thought in favour with God, and happiest among men: if heavenly graces and correction, be measured by the earthly vessailes of vanity, that we carry about, which without correction and reforming, would grow so full of filth and corrupt manners, that they neither could hold good liquor, nor serve to any good purpose.  
Do you not behold that the purest metal, with ill looking unto, becometh full of cankers and rust: if it be not scoured, rubbed and roghly handled, his beauty decayeth, and the worth and value of it is little, because it hath lost his virtue and estimation. So man's corrupt Nature, were it not searched with sundry instruments (that takes away the dead flesh, and toucheth the quick) would putrefy, & wax loathsome to the whole world and to the creature himself, that bears it in his bowels. And for the avoiding of such an inconvenience, calamity must be tasted, and troubles are necessary, for the keeping clean of a spotted conscience, and frail body puffed up with Pride, and vanity of curious conceits.  
And so I prove adversity, is the bringer home of good spirits, and gentle wits, that wanders after worldly follies, and runs a gadding beyond the bounds of measure, to the utter confines of danger and destruction. Yea, a little trouble and torment, produceth great goodness, and bringeth forth noble books, and goodly works, which the liberty of life, and wantonness of pleasure, denies and hinders. As a thing that draws man from the coveting of Fame, and true searching of immortality.  
Man's prosperous estate breeds but idleness, nourisheth vice, contemns virtue, and banisheth good studies and learning: albeit some one among the richest, at one season or other, may look on a book, favour writers and give good speeches of well doing. Yet seldom comes any great work from their hands that are in prosperity. And none in a manner but the afflicted, did at any time hither to, yield benefit to their country: and generally knowledge the universal world. Let Socrates, Plato, Aristotoles, Cleantes, and a number of poor Philosophers (ye princes of education) be witness of that I speak, from which Philosophers, the sours of noble Arts and Sciences did spring, and abundantly flow.  
The body pampered, bedecked with beauty, full of ornaments, and set out to sale like flesh in the Shambelles: Either would be bought quickly, or will be tainted in hanging too long in the wind. So that as horses do wax reistie, for want of good usage: and cleanest things taketh corruption, by lack of looking unto (in season). Pleasure and liberty in process of time, makes a man wild, if calamity tame not the body, & bring the mind in willing subjection.  
Sorrow, sadness, and other passions of this world, that comes by common causes, puts the wits and judgement to such a plunge, (secret shift and policy) that all the senses openly makes a muster, to defend the estimation, and upright body from falling, to the which assembly comes Patience, Reverence and Modesty, that the matter is so well taken, injuries are put up, and wrongs that have been offered, works in a wise head, a world of devices, wherein virtue gets victory.  
To bear the comfortable Cross of persecution, is the true badge of blessedness, whereby the servant is seen to follow his master, and all the vices of man be mastered, or reformed by the crossing chances of this world, and virtuous operation of calamity, which miraculously worketh the distempered mind as the hot Furnace tries out the Gold, and the warm fire brings in temper, and makes soft the hard and coldest Wax. A divine secret to them that are chosen, and familiar example to those, that glories in worldly felicity who knows the natural causes of yearthly things.  
If a man might ask, wherefore was man made, sent from the highest dignity of pleasures, to this low dungeon of sorrows, and base soil of servitude. It may be answered: Adam was thrust out of Paradise, for offence he had committed, and for that he was formed out of the earth, on the face of the earth he should get his food and living, as a vessel ordained to bear all manner of liquor, that is put into it: and as a Creature condemned to taste and feel torments, sorrows, and troubles: wherein man sees God's mercy, and his own infirmities. And refusing to bear and suffer, what is laid upon him, he seemeth to hold an other course than God hath appointed, and so seeketh that he can not attain. For since the earth was cursed, it never could bring forth but cares, and grief of mind: The only fruit and painful portion, that was from the beginning, prepared for all Adam's children and posterity.  
Now some will reply and say, that the rich and wealth of the world, that may wallow and tumble on their treasure: Have builded such bulwarks against the assaults of fortune, that no troubles can touch them, nor make them yield to the common calamity of our life, but who soever so thinketh, is utterly deceived. For riches is not gotten nor kept, but with much care and labour, and where it is possessed, it bringeth danger, dread, disdain, and a thousand evils with it: Tempting man to riot, and lascivious living, and leadeth the soul to perdition, by a number of infinite follies, except a special grace do uphold it, it runneth headlong into hell, and looketh seldom unto heaven. And commonly when men do grow rich, they surfeit so often with Banquets or bibbing, that they are full of diseases, and so shortens their days.  
Which liberty of life, and boldness in abuses (that springs on abundance, the root of disorder) puffs them up in Pride, pampers them in pleasures, and blindeth so their judgements, that they neither can see who deceiveth them, nor find out the right way of heavenly felicity. And yet the flattery of one, and falsehood of an other about them, breedeth such business, & raiseth such storms (where quietness is looked for) that the rich man's house is never without blunder, brabble, and brawlings. So that under the calmest shows and civilest manners, lurketh terrible tempests, and fearful suspicions, which in that kind is a domestical calamity, and misery incurable.  
And so all the jollity and pomp of the earth, (enjoyed by inheritance, or purchased by fortune) are accompanied with pain, interlarded with dolor, and mixed with unquietness, and may be compared to a rotten painted wall, that under fair colours, hath many a foul fret, which deceiveth the eyes of them that looks on it: or gives those a great overthrow that leaneth against it. But this is no proof that riches is cause of sorrow, but this rather shows, that sorrow, care, and many misfortunes doth follow riches, and poverty (so it be not bore indigence) is void of hazard, free from fortune's mutability, and counted most happy, in comparison of the goodness that belongeth to a blessed life.  
God, in beholding the vices of many, and sees some bent to esteem villainy, or offence: doth cut of their days by sudden mischances (or on a set purpose, through the Divine power) because their evil shall not hurt the good. And regarding the other sort that will, or may amend: leaves them to the touch of their consciences, with good respite and leisure to repent, sending them misery, trouble, and disquietness only as a restraint and bridle, to pluck them from vices. And so calamity may be accounted a precious purgation: and prosperity may be judged a Pestilent disease, which increased, or begun by disordered life, is rather to be called a calamity, and sickness of the soul, than a health of the mind, or good renown to the body.  
Many great personages, being overcome with the casualties of this world, and mutability of fortune, have after their fall into persecution, taken all things in good part, and made but small ado, nor account of their state when adversity approached, and been often times as glad to use the liberty of mind, in a servile sort, as they were well pleased, when their bodies took most pleasure, and had the world at commandment. For of necessity storms follow calms: and calamity either last or first, doth visit an earthly vessel. For some come to Kingdoms from prison and endurance, and some fall to misery from wealth and honour, Dyonisius was glad to keep a School, after he had lost his Empire, and Andronico of Athens when his Country was subdued by the Romans, was feign to serve sundry miserable Masters: and after led a Lion about Rome, to the end of his days. But though I brought a Tyrant and an Infidel, to show that calamity must be tasted: so could I rehearse many Christian princes, that calamity hath touched, and made them as happy by those crosses they have borne, as some others are blessed that makes boast, that have never suffered torment.  
Calamity is like a supling salve that heals a sore Canker. A precious preservative, to keep the head from fury of folly. A gentle medicine to reform an infected conscience. A bitter draft of drink: that purgeth a stout corrupt stomach: A sour syrup or sauce that seasoneth a lewd appetite. And the sweet Salt of man's felicity, without the which no life can be well seasoned.  
Who feels himself afflicted, hath cause to conceive he is not forgotten (where favour is most to be desired) and he that is let alone, to follow his own pleasure, walks as a castaway, and hath nothing to rejoice of. For his bad spirit leads him to destruction, and his good Angel hath forsaken his company, which is a sign he is given over, to his noughty inclinations, and is suffered to slide or fall down right, when the afflicted by a special grace, is kept from stumbling.  
The Horse that finds the bridle cast in his neck, runs out of order about the wild field: And such as loveth lewd liberty, and will not be bridled, good order runs from them, and foul reproach waits at their heels. And if they chance to happen in any hazard, the suddenness of the mischief breaketh their heart, or the wondering of the world, makes the wicked a weary of his life. But such as calamity by custom hath reclaimed, taketh adversity, as a qualifier of cursed conditions, and being content to kiss the Rod of perturbation, are made children of promise, and inheritors of the land they have long looked for.  
So blessed be those babes then, who in the trouble of their souls possesseth quietness, and makes a count of calamity, to be the perfit way and mean to felicity & good hap. The feeling of such a scourge and visitation, lately sent a man that I knew (who got great benefit by his trouble) made me writ this little trifling treatise of calamity. So far thou well good Reader.  
Finis.   

A pitiful complaint, in manner of a Tragedy, of Signior Anthonio dell Dondaldoes' wife, sometime in the duke of Florence's Court: Translated out of Italian prose, and put into English verse.  

YOu wives that wish, to live with worlds renown,  
And wisely way, the worth of precious fame,  
Come hear the voice, that gives a woeful sown.  
Come hear her tale, that dare not show her name,  
Come Country youth, come noble courtly Dame.  
And mark my words, whose works in wondering days,  
With double blot, redounds to my dispraise.   

From tender years, till twenty two were paste,  
I nourished was, at pomp and pleasures paps,  
But who can tell, how long our joy shall last,  
For greatest calms, comes oft to Thunder clapps,  
And sweetest hopes, do change to sourest haps.  
O tickle time, that wanders swift as wind:  
With hear before, and bore and bald behind.   

No gripe nor hand, can take sure hold on thee,  
Thou flittst so fast, and leaves the world at worst,  
Look what time brings, time takes away you see,  
Good time is blest, bad time we hold accost.  
Time hurts them often, that time did help at forced,  
Look what we have, when youth is most in prime:  
That shall we want, in age by course of tyme.   

My fresh delights, do fall and fade like flower,  
The blossoms gay, from beauties buds are gone,  
Our state of life, doth altar every hour,  
As pleasures pass, come sorrows pasing on,  
The world itself, is like a rolling stone.  
And on such wheels, our tumbling haps do run:  
They slide as swift, as shadow in the Son.   

While careless wit, doth carry youth about,  
(To sports and plays, that doth from pasty merries)  
The merry mind, is void of fear and doubt,  
And all the powers, are glad to please the eyes,  
But when wild head, or wanton waxeth wise,  
The weighty thoughts, that deep foresight retains,  
Bryngs troubled sleeps, and breaks the quiet brains.   

In childish days, I made no count of chance,  
When friends took care, to match me to their will,  
So hoping long, good hap would me advance,  
I kept me free, from wedlock's bondage still,  
But parents wise, that had good worldly skill.  
With open checks, rebuked the causes chief:  
The more they stirred, the greater grew my grief.   

As when a sore, is rubbed and handled hard,  
The less it heals, because ye touch it near:  
O father's grave, if that you took regard,  
How that with checks, you use your children dear:  
(Or in your moods, you would some reason here)  
They should be joined, where they great joy should have,  
And you of them, enjoy the thing you crave.   

But wilful men (that wealth may wrist awry)  
Will force poor babes, to marry or to morn,  
What father will, the child may not deny,  
He hurts his shins, against the prick shall sporne,  
When match is made, it is past time to torn.  
When silly Lamb, is to the slaughter led:  
The Butchar brags, the simple Sheep is dead.   

And yet in deed, 'twere better children smart,  
(And match in time, as cause and matter moves)  
Then children's choice, should break the father's heart,  
Or breed debate, as wilful marriage proves.  
Short is the joy, of them that longest loves,  
When want comes on, and woe begins to wring:  
For lack is thrall, and slave to every thing.   

Love is not now, as love hath been of old,  
(A game some babe, to dandle on the knee)  
Love cares for naught, but land and gabs of gold,  
That keeps both man, and horse in stable free,  
They have no wit, that other lovers be,  
Wealth master is, and porter of the gate:  
That lets in love, when want shall come to late.   

Well as it was, my friends could do no good,  
My Fortune bore, the sway and ruled all,  
And I full long, on will and freedom stood,  
Till flesh and blood, must needs to fancy fall.  
And then though hap, and worldly wealth was small,  
I lighted where, I liked and loved well:  
And where I vowed, for term of life to devil.   

My choice was liked, for many gifts of grace,  
He had, though wealth, sometime was not at will:  
And for his sake, in many a noble place,  
I welcome was, and purchased favour still.  
My candle blazed, like torch on top of hill,  
And for content, of mind where love doth rest:  
Mine own poor choice, might pass among the best.   

Long lived we thus, at home and eke abroad,  
When kindred clean, in deed forsook us both,  
What burden fell, I helped to bear the load,  
And glad in world, to taste how Fortune goeth.  
The mind I had, to God and sacred oath,  
Made me refuse, no travail for his sake:  
Whom of free will, I choose to be my make.   

The seas we sailed, the land we road about,  
The Court we saw, the Town we dwelled long in,  
The fields we walk, the gardains gay throughout,  
We went unto, where many a feast hath been.  
We could not sink, for hap held up the chin,  
He prospered well, and look what God had sent:  
With loving wise, at home the same he spent.   

He took great pains, to come by that he had,  
And travailed sore, through many a foreign soil:  
To bring that home, that makes the household glad,  
And keep the wife, and household folk from foil.  
And I took care, that nothing went to spoil,  
And look in deed, what things that I did lack:  
Was seen in face, or found upon my back.   

The world might see, I went in garments good,  
Though small I brought, to him as I confess:  
I spent him much, and at great charge he stood,  
Which brings strong hearts, sometime to great distress.  
But never that, might make his love the less,  
For look how he, his liking first began:  
In fine for troth, he proud the self same man.   

I could not sleep, but where in bed he lay,  
I could not eat, but where he sat at board,  
I could not laugh, when liking was away,  
I silent sat, gave he but half a word.  
Ill news of him, struck me with mortal sword,  
His mind and mine, did draw so in one yoke:  
The self same fits, he felt where of I spoke.   

Full seven years, this constant course we kept,  
Though often times, there happened household jars,  
And trattling tales, that in between us crept,  
Made many wounds, where yet remains the scars  
Yet always peace, took up our brawling wars,  
And we did seek, to salve each other's sore:  
And pass old griefs, and think thereon no more.   

Sweet is that peace, that patcheth up great harms,  
Sharp is the war, that tears a house in twain:  
Woe worth those words, that brings in brawls by swarms  
Dark be those clouds, that always threatens rain.  
Cursed be the cause, that breedeth woe and pain,  
And ed in hell, those subtle spirits shallbe:  
That council gave, to part my choice from me.   

Well as our chance, together was to join,  
And devil long while, as here in brief you hard:  
So hap came on, (through hope of wealth or coin)  
And drew my choice, where he might be preferred.  
To wars, and I, that had a great regard,  
To him that time, when I his mind did know:  
Gave my consent, that he to wars should go.   

With sighs and sobs, and bitter tears among,  
We parted tho, with promise surely past:  
That one should here, from other ere 'twere long,  
And sadly so, we severed at the last.  
His goods, his gold, his friends both firm and fast,  
He left me then to comfort me with all:  
But near a child, as Fortune so did fall.   

He passed the seizes, and sent me tokens still,  
And money such, as might supply my need:  
And for to show, his faith and great good will,  
Long letters large, he made that I might reed.  
Of promise paste, and to come home in deed,  
But to what end, should serve this businensse great:  
My mind was turned, warm love had lost his heat.   

A new fine man, both young and apt for change,  
I chose, and clean, forgot my former joy:  
And in a while, I was become so strange,  
As haggard Hawk, that takes in head a toy.  
And flees from Lure, and waxeth nice and coy,  
My wedlock now, not hearing of these news:  
Made no haste home, till I was o'er the shows.   

Yet knacks I wrought, to blear my husband's eyes,  
I made a brute, be blown that I was dead:  
When that he heard, he did his life dispies,  
And so forsook, sleep, rest, and taste of bread,  
He rend his hear, he sadly shook his head,  
He walked the woods, and shunned all repair:  
As one would be, devoured with foulls of chair.   

He daily bled, when little food he took,  
He would not come, where women were in place:  
And he so lean, and like a ghost did look,  
That Death itself, was seen amid his face.  
A noble Earl, as he beheld this case,  
Broke with the man, that thus tormented was,  
And so in sports, the troubled time did pass.   

But Ague fits, and sickness followed on,  
That in poor plight, came home my husband though:  
Not lean in purse, but bore and near the boen,  
The body weak, was worn with war and woe.  
And yet full sound, as all the world might know,  
His limbs I saw, but I so nice did wax:  
There was no flame, of fire might come to flax.   

For I could weep, and quench by cunning art,  
The hottest love, that ever husband bore:  
And so two years, I played a Fox's part,  
Which ere I die, I may repent full sore.  
My husband's bed, I shond, and furthermore,  
I feigned I had, a sickness let it go:  
I never mind, that folly forth to show.   

A finer trick, to compass that I sought,  
I played through sleight, and casting figures trim:  
To my good man, a bastard girl I brought,  
And from my friend, presented her to him.  
He saw thereby, the flood run o'er the brim,  
Yet kept it close, and said nothing at all:  
Till out by chance, might further matter fall.   

And always would, my husband tell me plain,  
I did him wrong, to keep me from his bed:  
But I could use, him in a pleasant vain,  
And make him soon, forget that he had said.  
My door was locked, how ere I laid my head,  
My maids and I, kept solemn cheer alone:  
How ever plain, poor husband made his move.   

Two years this wise, I shifted Cards full clean,  
Till husband spied, a letter of my hand:  
Whereby he found, what folly I did mean,  
But I was bend, against my deed to stand.  
So faced him down, and swore when all was scanned,  
It was not mine, but as he sound slept:  
To his beds side, my maied and I we stepped.   

And heaved him up, and so from bolster than,  
We took his purse, wherein the letter lay:  
When that we had, we left the silly man,  
As safe as he, that sleeps in cock of hay:  
Well, when he looked, in purse the other day,  
And found my fraud, and falsehood as it was:  
Out of the door, in fury did he pass.   

Yet came again, that night and so fell sick,  
(The cause whereof, soon after you shall here)  
Full long he lay, and touched so near the quick,  
That he was like, to buy that sickness deer.  
But when on foot, he stepped and all was clear,  
He bad farewell, false wife God send thee grace:  
Thy wicked ways, makes husband give thee place.   

I saw how world, would wonder on this act,  
And straight new tales, on husband 'gan I raise:  
With forged lies, and railing reasons racked,  
That still should sound, unto his most dispraise.  
I feigned one while, he used wanton ways,  
With every maied, that he might touch or see:  
And then he was, to sick a soul for me.   

Then poor he was, I said to cloak my pride,  
When this served not, I swore the man was mad,  
And in his rage, would beat me back and side,  
So every day, a new device I had.  
To make the world, believe he was to bad,  
And at the length, when all I had was sold:  
My maied and I, go try the world we would.   

So shutting door, and trussing up my pack,  
I flung from home, not bidding friends farewell:  
But I had not, no sooner turned my back,  
But husband heard, how all this matter fell.  
And yet alone, a while he let me devil,  
Till that he saw, I was so far past shame:  
I caerd not what, become of honest name.   

In deed the house, where I my residence made,  
With lusty lads, was haunted every hour:  
And I had those, that well could toss the blade,  
To take my part, if husband 'gan to lower.  
His friends were weak, and I with strongest power,  
Began to brag, and threaten him full sore:  
And had prepared, a bloody band therefore.   

I sought to bring, my brethren to this brawl,  
But they were wise, and would no quarrel take:  
And putting of, the harms that might befall,  
They wisely wrought, a friendly peace to make.  
But ever I, good council did forsake,  
And thought to make, my husband hide his head:  
Or practise still, till he poor man were dead.   

Yet in a mood, when lest I looked therefore,  
He came and told, me all was much amiss:  
Where at I cried, alas and loud I roar,  
For neighbours help, who quickly hearing this.  
Came thrusting in, as oft the manner is,  
How now good folk, qd he with bended brow:  
Tween man and wife, dare you be sticklers now.   

Not in good faith, qd they and so retired,  
But still I looked, for other succour there:  
And for that thing, that husband then desired,  
I took no care, I meant a further fear.  
To bring him in, yet maied in giving ear,  
To honest words, fell down on knees at last:  
And pardon craved, for privy knavery paste.   

My husband then, forgave her and took leave,  
In hope my mind▪ would gentle wax thereby:  
But I that meant, my husband to deceive,  
In better place, began a greater cry.  
Where women were, that marked my weeping eye,  
And though in deed, I had been handled ill:  
So stayed me there, perforce among them still.   

My husband swore, I should receive no harm,  
And home again, I should be safely brought:  
But I had taught, the women such a charm,  
They would not then, departed from me for naught.  
That could be said, thus he like wax was wrought,  
And tempered so, that home without his wife:  
He went away, the more my shameless life.   

When shamefast looks, forsook my modest face,  
I waxed so bold, I blushed no more than block:  
Then clapped on robes, of gay vainglories grace,  
With colours fair, to paint a foul black stock.  
Yet called I was, a Hen for each good Cock,  
A morsel sweet, a whetstone fine forsooth:  
To set on edge, on every dainty tooth.   

I card not how, my husband murdered were,  
By Magic's force, or any Devilish art:  
I shonde his sight, and presence every where,  
As one that lodged, disdain in hateful heart.  
And still I played, full many a filthy part,  
To rid him hence, and take away his life:  
Who God preserved, to plague a paltering wife.   

And for to hide, those brain sick pranks of mine,  
I had a knack, to break the matrage band:  
And so a dram, or draft of poison fine,  
I did devise, to hap in husband's hand.  
And as that cup, on table's end did stand,  
With fervent thirst, he came and so it reached,  
And in that heat, drank of the mortal draft.   

When guilty heart, should make my face to blush,  
I braved it out, in silks and Velvets gay:  
And caerd not what, world said of me a rush,  
For I took time, ere time would wear away.  
(At graceless games, and many a shameless play)  
And sowing seeds, that Nettle flowers brought forth:  
I reaped but weeds, or thistles nothing worth.   

I ruffled long, when husband barely went,  
And facest him out, in street or civil town:  
My friends did force, the man to stand content,  
It was no boot, to strive or swear me down.  
For I had made, the world on him to frown,  
And raised a brute, that he was bedlam mad:  
Thus lo of him, the conquest still I had.   

My haunt was such, among the noblest sort,  
That I was called, a sober Sibyl sage:  
And worthy wits, would build on my report,  
For I knew how, to flatter every age.  
And always wrought, to make my husband rage,  
Whereby his life, in hazard, hard might fall:  
And I the while, run clean away with ball.   

I loud not one, but lusted after all,  
The puddle foul, was fittest for a gig:  
The Fountain fair, did drink like bitter gall,  
In filthy mud, I ed like a pig.  
About the streets, was gadding gentle rig,  
With cloes tucked up, to set bad ware to sale:  
For youth good stuff, and for old age a stolen.   

A loving look, could make a Gudgeon bite,  
A five dugard, could fetch in scolles of fish:  
A cunning knack, could stir up cold delight,  
A glittering girl, could feed a wantoness wish.  
And who doth not, desire a dainty dish,  
Whose sugared taste, breeds secret eager mood:  
That feign would feed, and finds most fearful food.   

I could in street, bestir and stretch my limbs,  
As though some spirit, were ●●der outward show:  
Who angleth not, for fish that smoothly swims,  
At pleasant mark, who doth not bend the bow.  
Small shafts are shot, at many a carrion crow,  
Then if fair birds, do hap to come in way:  
Blame not the Hawk, that makes of foul a may.   

Not beauty here, I claim by this my talk,  
For brown and black, I was God bless the mark:  
Who calls me fair, doth scarce know cheese from chalk,  
For I was formed, when Winter's nights were dark.  
And Nature's works, took light at little spark,  
For kind in scorn, had made a mould of jest:  
That shone like coal, wherein my face was set.   

Three years I stra●ed, like waff that waxeth wild,  
Two more at lest, I lay from husband's bed:  
And all this while, I used him like a child,  
For at no time, I neither wrote nor said.  
Ne sent to him, such toys I had in head,  
That stomach stiff, thought not to stoop a whit:  
For stubborn Colt, in teeth had got the bit.   

He let me run, o'er hedge, o'er hill and dale,  
And would not pluck, the rains of bridle back:  
I could tell why, but thereby hangs a tale,  
Would make me blush, and show of grace great lack.  
I had my will, whiles all thing went to wrack,  
What needs more words, I ran so rude a race:  
I never thought, again to turn my face.   

What sleight escapes free, from subtle searching head,  
What wit works not, to serve lewd women's wiles:  
What practice flies, the foil of stained bed,  
What is not won, with words or worldly giells.  
What will not yield, and ●●●ne where Fortune smiles,  
What time is lost, to gain that women crave:  
And all proceeds, from wayward will we have.   

If that we love, the fury lasts not long,  
If once we hate, ●ut malice hath no ●●lde:  
If that we mind, to offer husband wrong,  
We want no wit, the quarrel to defend.  
Our stubborn heart, hath rather break then bend,  
And custom hath, among us made such laws:  
That all our sex, will take one part and cause.   

And where the flood, and stream of strife doth run,  
In comes the Tide, of daily troubles great:  
Yea where a storm, or brawl is once begun,  
All bitter blasts, repairs and breathes out heat.  
The eyes will stare, the face will frown and sweat,  
The tongue must clapp, the head will shake and nod:  
And heart with in, hath clean forgotten God.   

Friends must be wrought, with blades to band it out,  
Foe's must be whippt, and scourged in their kind:  
World shallbe toast, and turned round about,  
Still to maintain, the mischief of the mind.  
Tale bearers then, shall lie within the wind,  
To bring bad news, and set the house a fire:  
That flaemd before, with sparks of spites desire.   

My practice strange, can all these plaeggs unfold,  
That better were, lappt up in silence here:  
To late to call, again that tongue hath told,  
The wise should cell, their words and worship dear.  
But since in world, myself I can not clear,  
I will go through, this heavy tale of mine:  
That world may well, at wicked ways repined.   

Long after this, he heard that I lay sick,  
And then from Court, he comes with right great speed:  
To comfort me, that was both sound and quick,  
To play the Fox, or knave again for need.  
But though that time, I would not be agreed,  
I took his wine, and sent him so away:  
With scorn enough, in sign of parting day.   

For since that time, he never saw my face,  
Nor had no mind, to come where was my haunt:  
And since that storm, I had so little grace:  
In every soil, I make my boast and vaunt,  
I conquered him, and so I do you grant.  
For three years more, I have done what I please:  
And lid at large, in lust and lordly ease.   

And these five years, I have done what I can,  
By tongue and art, and figures that I cast:  
And every way, to shame my plain good man,  
Which shame I fear, will sure be mine at last.  
I am so learned, I can play louse and fast,  
My skill is such, in Planets high and lo:  
I rule the Skies, and Heavens where I go.   

Good Fortunes sure, some say that I can tell,  
And many things, by figures I unfold:  
I say no more, but wish that all were well,  
For he that doth, this wicked world behold.  
Whose Godhead seeth, into this massy mould,  
Knows well how oft, I tread my shoe a wry:  
And in what plight, my sinful soul doth lie.   

And if this God, regard with angry cheer,  
The vice on earth, that vainly we commit:  
And straightly look, unto my doings here,  
And like a judge, in trembling conscience sit.  
I am condempd, there serus ne force nor wit,  
Out is my Lamp, the oil hath lost his light:  
And my fair day, is turned to foul black night.   

The searching heads, that sifts my manners throw.  
Will shrink a side, when I draw near their view:  
The wieuly daems, that seeth my blotted brow,  
In my behalf, will blush and change their hew.  
The gentle hearts, that others harms doth rue,  
Will much lament, my life so lewdly run:  
And clean untwiste, the thread good name hath spun.   

The basest dame (whose faults are borne in breast)  
Will scorn to hear, my folly blazed abroad:  
The frompping flock, at me will make a jest,  
The spitful swarm, will poult and swell like Toad.  
My guilty mind, that bears most heavy load,  
Will sink down right, when world shall talk of grace:  
And shame herself, will slubber all my face.   

The sober sort, that sets by noble brute,  
Will shake their heads, as they my boldness spy:  
The clapping tongues, will never sure be mute,  
Shrewd people all, will show alowring eye.  
But still I fear, the Lord that sits on high,  
Will look more strange, on me so late disgraced:  
Then all the world, that here beneath are placed.   

The Church wherein, both faith and hand I gave,  
Shall witness bear, of breach of promise due:  
The spousal bed, and marriage day so brave,  
Shall make me called, forsworn and most untrue:  
The holy book, the old law and the new,  
Against my soul, shall sure sharp sentence give,  
In other world, where spirit desires to live.   

Let matrons chaste, and modest wives each one,  
That falsehood haets, and loves their troth to keep:  
In fury come, and fling at me a stone,  
And let no wight, my death bewail nor weep.  
Let days unrest, and dreadful dreams in sleep,  
Pursue me still, and bring me to my grave:  
Since God and man, I so offended have.   

The steps I tread, shall tell me my offence,  
The fields I walk, shall bring my fault to mind:  
The harms I did, in world shall haste me hence,  
The wealth I wish, shall waste and wear with wind.  
The fame I seek, shall fling me far behind,  
And all good things, that virtues wives enjoy:  
At my most need, shall turn to mine annoy.   

The wise that ways, my wiles in balance right,  
Shall see my wit, want weight and be but base,  
The fool himself, shall find my judgement light,  
In making choice, to chop and change my case.  
The poor shall point, at me in every place,  
The rich and those, that sway and rule doth bear:  
With curb of Law, shall bring lewd life in fear.   

The friends I had, shall frown and shun my sight,  
The foes I have, shall follow me with shame:  
The neighbour love, that pleased me day and night,  
Shall now draw back, and look on loss of name.  
The merry mate, and homely country dame,  
And all the town, and soi●e where I was borne:  
In Parish Church, shall laugh my life to scorn.   

The band once broke, that God himself hath blessed,  
Bryngs worldly woe, and curses in by swarms:  
The marriage marred, that God made for man's rest,  
Turns upside down, from happy help to harms.  
The Bridal bed, defield with loathsome charms,  
Breeds wicked smoke, and smothering slanders blaze:  
On whose foul fume, a world of people gaze.   

The knot of love, unknitt by hateful cause,  
Caulls griefs to count, and cries to clouds for aid:  
The lewd contempt, and breach of sacred laws,  
Makes every hour, offender sore afraid.  
The fickle faith, that is with scourges paid,  
Bids falsehood fly, the plague that is prepared:  
For those who looks, to life with small regard.   

Not roffling troop, that swash and swill up wine.  
Can ward the blows, that wrath of God sends down:  
Not cunning knacks, nor knacking fetches fine,  
Can conquer troth, and thrust him out of town.  
Not treasons train, can take way true renown,  
No cloud can cloak, the craft that all men finds:  
Not salve but grace, can heal infected minds.   

My hollow heart, hath lost the hope I had,  
What drops in now, doth doubt and danger bring:  
In husband's ears, I spoke that made me glad,  
With new-found friends, I talk that makes me wring.  
The first good will, from virtuous love did spring,  
The last delight, and all that since fell out:  
Begun on lust, and needs must end in doubt.   

Now open streets, by Owl flight must I walk,  
And secret nooks, and shifts must shadow sleight:  
Except I care, not what the world doth talk,  
And mind to frame, a crooked matter straight.  
And then though pride, holds head a wonders height,  
Shame plucks down heart, and makes me blush at last:  
But well away, that sign of grace is paste.   

Though in the teeth, I have the bridle goat,  
And that I run, beyond my rider's reach:  
I dare not sing, in quere to high a note,  
For fear of check, and tutor do me teach.  
I play boe peep, lest people me appeach,  
I seem a saint, when devilish things I mean:  
Yet much ado, I have to carry clean.   

O wretched change, that brings repentance oft,  
O bitter sweet, whose taste deceives us all:  
O poisoned lust, that puffs up pride a loft,  
O graclesse game, full farced with sugared gall.  
O tripping trust, that swiftly gives a fall,  
O spitful sport, that spends thy youth in shame:  
And brings thine age, in horror and defame.   

O greedy will, that gains but grief of mind,  
O gnawing worm, that frets the conscience still:  
O wicked art, that strikes the senses blind,  
O mad device, that tourns from good to ill.  
O lewd desire, more hot than Eathna hill,  
O beastly bliss, begun on bald confaite:  
And doth bewitch, them all that bites the bait.   

O paultring play, and pinishe pastime vain,  
O sliding joy, that sinks where surety swims:  
O perilous toy, and pleasure mixed with pain,  
O Peacock proud, that still fond feathers trims.  
O lusty blood, nay wanton loathsome limbs,  
That stoups to filth, and costly carrion gay:  
That gives▪ bad gold, and steals good name away.   

My merry maetts, and mincing minions fine,  
Speaks fair a while, to win their lewd desire:  
But wilely world, can let me starve and pine,  
And for reward, can give a flout or flire.  
So lead me on, and leave me in the mire,  
And blab all out, that hath been closely wrought:  
O pranks of youth, O painted thing of naught.   

O puddle foul, that seems at first full fair,  
O cause of care, and source of sorrow sour:  
O deadly hope, and ground of deep despair,  
O pleasant weed, and stinking rotten flower.  
O ravening Wolves, that doth poor wives devour,  
O smiling thieves, that robs the chastest heart:  
O traitorous tongues, that can play judas part.   

You laid your trains, as Foulars lays his net,  
You bosom Snak's, your sting hath me undone:  
By loving you, at length what shall I get,  
When you me loath, where shall the cast of ron.  
woe worth that wight, that wooing first begun,  
Cursed be the craft, that causeth clamours ●yes:  
And vengeance fall, upon your staring eyes.   

A plague consume, your songs and subtle suets,  
A wildfire catch, your cumbrous knavish brains▪  
A murrain take, your foul untimely fruets,  
A canker eat, your hands and azure veins.  
The Hags of hell, reward you for your pains,  
Both pen and ink, and all that helped des●re:  
(And you yourselves) I wish in flaming fire.   

Fie on your scrolls, and Pistells full of lies,  
An Oaten straw, for all your stately stiles:  
Your frizzled hair, and naughty new-found gies,  
Your lordly looks, your simpering shameless smiles.  
Your wanton talk, and privy winking wiles,  
I here bequeath, to Satan and his crew:  
Good fellows fit, for such false lads as you.   

You are the froth, and scum of world's delight,  
The dallying whelps, that can with feathers play:  
Of mischiefs all, the mark, the butt, and white,  
The jolly Fry, that follows flood each way.  
The gallant flock, the stately stars of day,  
The busy Bees, that can no Honey make:  
But spoilers of, each fruit and flower ye take.   

The waiting dogs, that bite before they bark,  
The couching curs, that snatch at every fly:  
The figboys fine, that juggels in the dark,  
The c●nnyng crew, that at receipt can lie.  
The sookyng sponge, that draws fair fountains dry,  
The greedy hounds, that follows every game:  
The blot and stain, of each good woman's name.   

A rob or ring, or trifling token vare,  
You give for that, you never can restore▪  
Then are you gone, you have your wished fare,  
In stranger streams, you love to steer your Ore.  
If honest wiu's, but knew your pranks before,  
They would as soon, see of your subtle heads:  
As by your drifts, go stain their husband's beds.   

In marriage house, is friendly fastness found,  
Though far be mean, content fills up the dish:  
In bordello bower, sweet banquets are unsound,  
Though dainties there, we have at will and wish.  
At home we take, in worth cold flesh or fish,  
For warm good will, doth season so she there:  
That with small ●oste, we banquet all the year.   

A broad we sit, as though we were a feared,  
And scarce dare feed, or talk for taunts and nips:  
At home we rule, in spite of husband's beard,  
And play the Cook, and so may li●ke our sips.  
A broad for naught, our tongue is tame in trips,  
And then great heart, can neither drink nor eat:  
Thus dear is bought, a broad our borrowed meat.   

Look what is said, ●n home in cloth is lap,  
There speech is free, and honest sports we use:  
O well a way, that this misfortune happt,  
And that I did, my husband so abuse.  
That I have brought, myself into a muse,  
Lost home thereby, lost God and good men's praies:  
And now must run, a gadding all my days.   

A plague most fit, for them that use to change,  
A scourge wherein, the wrath of God is seen:  
A staff of strife, for pilgrim nothing strange,  
A bleeding wound, that makes my sorrow green.  
A sore rebuke, for wits that over ween,  
A heavy cross, and sent me for the nonce:  
To break my will, and yet to bruise no boens.   

But since my will, did weave this woeful web,  
That needs must make, a weed for wantoness wear:  
And that my flood, is like to fall to ebb,  
By want of will, that aught low sail to bear.  
To punish soul, that else some other where,  
Might suffer smart, I vow in hand to take:  
A better life, and so false world forsake.   

Away proud pomp, and costly garments nice,  
Come mourning gown, and cloth the careful wight:  
Away vain shows, and open signs of vice,  
Come virtue now, and give my Lamp more light.  
Come summers day, adieu dark Winter's night.  
I love to live, and look about me far:  
When wound is healed, time may amend the scar.   

Away young Fry, that gives lewd council now,  
Away old trots, that sets young flesh to sale:  
Away foul sluts, whose filth did blot my brow,  
Away trim tongues, that near told honest tale.  
Away bold beasts, whose brabble bred my bale,  
Away rude Wasps, you stung me through the breast:  
Go hide your heads, and let me live in rest.   

Away wild gigs, that bounceth like a top,  
Away came lours, that faun like whelps for naught:  
Away light heads, that loves to change and chop,  
Away fine wits, that many mischeu's wrought.  
Away slay Snak's, that my destruction sought,  
Away false shrews, that never none may trust:  
But such lewd girls, as are beguiled by lust.   

Away fair speech, that me bewitched to long,  
Away foul works, that filled my face with blurs:  
Come home poor sense, that led my fancy wrong,  
And pack from me, you privy biting curs.  
That sticketh still, together like wild burrs,  
And where ye touch, ye bring away the wool:  
So from fine cloth, pure honest name ye pull.   

'tis time to look, how good report was lost,  
And prop up house, that now is near to fall:  
A wretched brute, flies through the air in post,  
A whirling wind, may come and trip down all.  
And though I list, not come at husbands call,  
I may not fly, from God and follow man:  
That still devours, like Wolf what sheep he can.   

The sweetest wine, at length will wax full sour,  
It prou's sharp sauce, that once had sugared taste:  
Fond fancies freaks, will fade as fast as flower,  
And wantoness love, with sports will wear and waste.  
When hard in arm's, new comers are embraced,  
Farewell old friend, go play you where you will:  
The hawk hath prayed, the Haggards gorge is full.   

Love stays not long, it is but one years bird,  
A foolish fit, that makes wild wits go mad:  
A gallant Colt, that runneth for a gird,  
A lime rod fine, to catch a lusty lad.  
A youthful prank, that makes age look full sad,  
A merry mate, so long as money lasts:  
Good for a flight, then of her bells she casts.   

Love tarries not, it is a posting game,  
That hath such haste, it goes we know not where:  
Now fair and fat, then crooked lean and lame,  
Now plays boe peep, now fisking here and there.  
Now bald as Coote, now trim with frizzled hear,  
Now gay and glad, now shrewd and scarce well pleased:  
Now sound as Chick, now sick and soon diseased.   

With dallying much, love will be easily tired,  
When love is cloyed, the toil at gross must run:  
When hoof is whole, the hackney may be hired,  
When corn is sold, the market clean is done.  
It ends with hate, that was with love begun,  
It may be loathed, that long on liking lay:  
Lust lacks no wings, when love will fly away.   

Love must have change, to season sweet delight,  
Loves mind will range, like Spaniel in the field:  
Love looks like Dove, when she will prove a Kite,  
Love seeks to rule, she hath no mind to yield.  
Love will have scope, love is restrained seld,  
If love lack aught, she shows a lowering eye:  
And then for naught, the babe will pule and cry.   

Love must be colled, and kissed round about,  
Love must go gay, and painted like a post:  
Love must be peecst, and patched with many a clout,  
Love is a spirit, a shadow or a ghost.  
A needless charge, that seldom quits the cost.  
A practice bought, with many a thread bore purse:  
A wretched bliss, that I and mine may curse.   

It is the scum, and only dross of youth,  
That brings both soul, and body in decay,  
A kind of task, wherein there is no truth,  
A Courting trade, that doth much craft bewray.  
A wily Fox, a wanton full of play,  
A saint to show, a Devil God he knows:  
That me betrayed, and made me freedom loose.   

The Horse ronns far, that never tourns again,  
The beaten child, is learned to fear the rod:  
The double mind, may fall to meaning plain,  
They may a mend, that feels the fear of God.  
The clouds may clear, that long hath threatened rain,  
The time ill spent, if reason will redeem:  
Calls home wild wits, from toys that are extreme.   

Youth take's his course, and follows fancies freaks,  
Age all reforms, and sore reputes time paste:  
The bow long bend, ye know in process weaks,  
Hard things at first, may gentle wax at last.  
Who often faulls, is taught to stand full fast,  
And few there are, but slieds or falls down right:  
In youth or age, our judgements are so light.   

When wit is bought, (and folly thoroughly weighed,)  
An ounce of skill, is worth a pound of dross:  
Till body smart, the mind is never stayed,  
Gain is not liked, till we have tasted loss.  
Some say each one, is borne to bear his cross,  
My heavy faults, now burdens breast so sore:  
That hear or hence, I must be scourged therefore.   

Sweet are those strips, that breaks ne bone nor limb,  
(And yet sets sound, the soul and body both:)  
Sour are those joys, and worldly bravery trim,  
That down to hell, with dampened people goeth.  
Sweet are sharp words, that tells lewd life the troth,  
Sour is sweet sauce, that cloys the stomach still:  
Sweet are those nips, that doth restrain the william.   

The pampered horse, that still in stable stands,  
Will wear a jade, if spur ne wand he taest:  
The wildest Colt, is tamed by rider's hands,  
And so through bit, is made well trained and paest,  
All headstrong things, are not reformed in haste,  
But when regard, looks back where blindness went:  
The peril paste, bides pomp and Pride repent.   

Great is the scope, that greedy will desires,  
Small gain or grace, doth grow by gadding out:  
With heavy load, the weary legs retires,  
And hartfull fraught, of worldly dread and doubt.  
And sure the ground, from whence all vice doth sprout,  
Is gadding geres, that lous a broad to gaze:  
Who shame sends home, in great sad muse and maze.   

And when in doors, dame dalliance close is 〈◊〉,  
And notes what blot, she did escape without:  
She thinks in street, she put her name to pawn,  
Or went abroad, to play the bore bankrupt.  
Where wanton eyes, did nought but stare about,  
Where all a flaunt, at full like ship with sail:  
Fine minions march, as brave as Peacocks tail.   

The crooked back, must bolstered be by art,  
The tawny skin, must shine by some trim knack:  
The twinkling looks, for sport must play their part,  
The perwicks fine, must curl where hair doth lack.  
The swelling grace, that fills the empty sack,  
And jetting pace, with limbs stretched out full straight:  
To patch out pride, are matters of great weight.   

Then fie on all, such trash and trumpery vile,  
That sets forth shades, in Sunny day to shine:  
My youth is paste, I can not world beguile,  
Men will not look, for babes in ed eyen.  
A withered grape, hangs now on rotten vine,  
From blasted branch, the berry round is gone:  
A dusky glass, is little looked upon.   

Wherefore I vow, to wear a sorry vail,  
To shroud the face, that few or none will like:  
And get some shell, to hold in head like Snail,  
For former faults, in conscience so doth strike.  
That I do fear, I shall myself mislike,  
If shadows do, not cloak defects I have:  
Or death dispatch, and send me to my grave.   

Now note my tale, you dames of gentle blood,  
Now wail with me, all such as plays my part:  
Now let my harms, do harmless people good,  
Now bid all wius, defy this devilish art.  
For my conceit, is such a deadly dart,  
That where I go, or walk in any place:  
Mendoza thinks my faults, are written in my face.   
FINIS.   

A heavy matter of a English gentleman, and a gentlewoman, in manner of a Tragedy: which gentlewoman called her friend the wandering Prince.  

THE wandering Prince, which ran the restless race,  
Had much a do, to try this froward fate:  
And I poor man, that doth supply his place,  
In pilgrim's port, may wail my woeful state.  
To Gods and men, the story now I tell,  
That judgement have, to mark my matter well:  
Both land and seas, as far as wandrer goes,  
(And world so wide) my soaking sorrow knows.   

In native soil, where long I fostered was,  
A make I chose, to lead my life with all:  
From whom at length, I wandering Prince did pass,  
For causes great, that turned my sweet to gall.  
Suffice to think, some fire did raise the smoke,  
That made me fly, and shun from marriage yoke:  
Some peevish prank, some pad laid in the straw,  
That forced fears, thus several ways to draw.   

A wretched hap, betid's between them twain,  
That parts in haste, where long the love was bend:  
An open plague, a pinching privy pain,  
Is felt and found, where such mishap is sent.  
The house decay, the credit cracks with all,  
And down full flat, doth each good Fortune fall:  
And of renown, the props and pillars shakes,  
And babbling tongues, there on a wonder makes.   

Let sleep some harms, my muse must now awake,  
To blaze the broils, that wandering life did bring:  
Who goes from home, and doth a journey take,  
Full little knows, where doth the saddle wring.  
Till biting griefs, bewrays a secret sore,  
As soon as man, sets foot on foreign shore:  
A mischief straight, doth meet him full in face,  
As welcome fit, for men from foreign place.   

As strangers here, sometimes have gazers on,  
And Crows with Kites, do seldom well agreed:  
So home bred birds, from hence no sooner gone,  
In country strange, full soon o'ermatched be.  
First finesse comes, and frames some fashion new,  
To catch wild hawks, or cast tame bird in mewe:  
Then falsehood fliers, and plays the wily Fox,  
With gadding foot, that fast is in the stoxe.   

The traular tastes, more toil than tongue can tell,  
Moore troublous times, than troth may well report:  
Wants heavens bliss, and feeleth more of hell,  
Then all the souls, that to this world resort.  
The Camel bears, a burden great you know,  
The Ass likewise, doth not uncharged go:  
But neither beast, nor nothing name you may,  
Surmounts the pains, of wandering Prince I say.   

My destiny drew, my days to doleful date,  
Desire to see, strange realms bred mine unrest:  
For where I thought, in surety safe I sat,  
far from my friends, I found myself distressed.  
In danger often, and fear of mortal foe,  
I daily paste, between the string and boe:  
Not hazard here, on earth that men may find,  
But there to me, blind destiny had assigned.   

My life was sought, and freedom lost I long,  
Compelled to stoop, where God was scarcely known:  
Denied of right, and forced to suffer wrong,  
And plainly spoiled, of that which was my noun.  
In hockstars' hands, where law was made of will,  
(And havocks mouth,) I daily happened still:  
Now drowned in dread, and wishing greedy grave.  
Then feared to be, a servile galley slave.   

No help from home, was looked for any way,  
All hope was gone, between good hap and me:  
In these extremes, thus paste I many a day,  
Till God had set, both mind and body free.  
And in the end, ere I did homeward draw,  
At my noun will, jerusalem I saw:  
And Sipres too, with divers kingdoms more,  
Which stately seats, I had not seen before.   

A mind I had, of further toil than this,  
But sundry lets, in that behalf I found:  
And as often times, I did my purpose miss,  
So lo in fine, I drew me homeward round.  
But Fortune wrought, for me such spite at home,  
That once again, a broad I must go room:  
I shaped me though, a nearer course to hold,  
In hope that hap, the hapless favour would.   

Now sought I how, to serve my country well,  
And framed both wits, and wealth to that delight:  
In foreign soil, the wandering Prince did devil,  
From whence often times, to country did I writ.  
Yea to the chief, that here hath rule and charge,  
To whom I showed, some matters full at large:  
For which I wan, great favour and good will,  
So long time spent, in right good credit still.   

But Fortune frowned, at that good luck of mine,  
As she was wont, to do by course and kind:  
That froward dame, ye know doth still repined,  
At every one, that bears a noble mind.  
A dreadful Duke, a fearful prince I say,  
Sore matters there, unto my charge did lay:  
And clapped me up, in cruel prison fast,  
Where long I looked, for naught but death at last.   

A leaven months, I lay in loathsome sink,  
Where some condempd, abode the diefinoll day:  
Some lived in lack, and starved for meat and drink,  
Some made great shift, yet could not get away:  
Some were had out, to suffer for offence,  
Some had small wealth, yet lay at great expense:  
And some were racked, and lost their limbs there buy,  
And none but glad, to please the jailours' eye.   

The fulsome smells, and savours out of frame,  
Wear able sure, to burst a Giants heart:  
The usage vile, and other griefs to name,  
Did far surmount, the weight of common smart,  
The checks, the taunts, and bitter biting words,  
Did cut more sharp, then bloody mortal swords:  
The torments strange, that hellhounds showed us there,  
Was sure much more, then human kind could bear.   

The world abroad, knows not what prisoners feel,  
The bird on bush, conceiu's no care of cage:  
Who sits a fit, in top of fortune's wheel,  
Full little knows, the cause of captives rage.  
Well I sucked up, of this the sweet and sour,  
And sought for friends, and so stretched forth my power:  
That out I came, and homeward once again,  
I paste in peace, and scaped a scouring plain.   

Here found I things, as God himself did please,  
My wife in grave, and world was altered clean:  
Then did I frame, myself to live at ease,  
And as I might, to hold a merry mean.  
Content with cares, that time had over blown,  
Full bend to devil, and rest upon mine own:  
Not looked for cheer, in house I kept before,  
Those spending days, bad spare and seek for store.   

But yet small while, I rested here in deed,  
But that I hard, of one a noble brute:  
A widow wise, of gentle race and seed,  
And such a dame, as worthy was of suit,  
Whose wifely port, and comely manners grave,  
(With shamefast looks, and glance of beauty brave:)  
Was able sure, as world's report did shoe,  
To make from tomb, the dead to speak and go.   

Her famous brute, so set my heart on fire,  
That fancy flamed, on that I never saw:  
And still so hot, did burn this new desire,  
That wit confessed, in love there was no law.  
A sudden heat, and sure a thing full strange,  
That love so soon, could work so sore a change:  
To make him like, and namely in the place,  
Where lo before, he saw ne shape nor face.   

A power divine, or Destiny drew this draft,  
It can not come, of light conceits nor toys:  
For as wild birds, in bush or lime are caught,  
And so strange hands! poor silly bird enjoys.  
(Through Destinies' lot, that all appointeth here,)  
So was I caught, I buy the proof full dear:  
For naught but smart, as yet thereby doth rise,  
Such Fortune falls, on men from starry Skies.   

Where Gods do work, men must of force give place,  
It happened thus, what needs more words here in:  
Me thought in sleep, I saw a stranger's face,  
A wake I walked, as I in maze had been.  
In house or field, all that I did behold,  
Presented plain, this noble fleece of gold:  
The wandering Prince, a jason wished him than,  
Or for that fleece, to be a happy man.   

In spending days, and time of that device,  
A chance befell, as blissful Fortune would:  
The precious gem, and jewel dear of price,  
That wandering Prince, doth call the fleece of gold.  
At dinner was, where I was bid a jest,  
O happy house, nay rather happy feast:  
O castle good, where in my Lady sat,  
Where but bore view, and sight of her I got.   

My gazing eyes, no sooner saw this sight,  
But strait I said, the world's report was true:  
And in all points, she was the self same wight,  
That I had heard, and more to say to you.  
Her grace so much, did please my inward mind,  
That sure I thought, I could not easily find:  
So sweet a saint, to serve and honour still,  
If boldness durst, present here my good william.   

A fear strait ways, possessed my senses all,  
Of fit match, for her than I in deed:  
And dreading sore, how matters forth would fall,  
That I might speak, and others then might speed.  
I silent stood, and stole away God wot,  
Yet hoping still, to find a better lot:  
An aptter time, a season for my suit,  
That fancies toil, should reap some thankful fruit.   

In watching long, and using sleight of wit,  
I favour wan, my sorrows to escry:  
But Fortune made, me play upon the bit,  
And want my will, when head I held full high.  
I kerbed was, and such a mozroule felt,  
That in no stay, nor certain hope I dwelled:  
Save that access, to her I had sometime,  
As on the stair, I durst attempt to climb.   

I did not press, the mountain high to win,  
Nor climb the bows, and sprays of mighty trees:  
The valley smooth, I took great pleasure in,  
Or goodly ley, where haunts sometimes the Bees.  
To suck the flowers, that pleasant Honey makes,  
And lay to ley, I thought to hedge with stakes:  
As field to field, should better sure agreed,  
Then Sky with earth, or wind and air with tree.   

Short season sure, I saw good hope here in,  
Sour was the sweet, and sugar turned to gall,  
I sunk where hope, was held up by the chin,  
And in despair, I likely was to fall.  
This goodly field, this lay alone would be,  
This soil would not, be hedged in by me:  
False Fortune frowned, and flung from me in haste,  
And with a freak, left faithful friend disgraced.   

Who can have hold, of Fortune when he list,  
She flits so fast, and flies sometimes so far:  
She will not come, like hawk that stoups to fist,  
When man thinks best, she mounts as high as star▪  
And at a brunt, leave's lovers in the dust,  
O Fortune strange, thou art of little trust:  
O dainty hap, O Destiny I thee blame,  
For thou art she, that tourns to grief my game.   

All other harms, and former wrongs of mine,  
The scourges great, and plagues of foreign soil:  
Were small to this, that Destiny doth assign,  
Wherein at home, I take an open foil.  
All cares of mind, all cost and charge abroad,  
Not half so much, doth silly conscience load:  
All which good Lord, and all the blame of this,  
And ground of grief, God wot blind Fortune is.   

I blame no more, though present death I found,  
By this rebuke, and charming check of chance:  
Yea though by this, I have a cureless wound,  
And scar remains, where Cupid's dart did glance:  
In cloaked cares, I hide the hurts I have,  
And burden bear, till body be in grave:  
As one whose ghost, with groaning wastes away,  
Whose cold conceits, warm life doth clean decay.   

So cease good pen, and bid the world farewell,  
Not further verse, nor line my hand shall writ:  
This is my last, this toulls the passing bell,  
Of vital breath, and wished lives delight,  
This warns the world, and bids the wise beware,  
Of doubtful chance, the only cause of care:  
O faithful friends, yet shed some tears for me,  
That through mishap, my wretched ruin doth se.   
FINIS.   

A Pirates Tragedy, being a gentleman of a very good house: Made at the request of Master Peter Caroe, captain of Laughlin in Ireland: and fet out to show the miserable life of a Rover, whose wretched desire of other men's goods, brings open shame, and a violente death.  

WHen slumbering sleep, with meager hand,  
Can touch mine eyes, that sloth doth daunt:  
When all my limbs, reposed did stand,  
And so some rest, to me did grant.   

Me thought I saw, a wretched wight,  
With wring hands, to make his moans:  
He rather seemed a ghostly sprite,  
That gasping lies, and grovelling groans.   

With hoary beard, and scorched face,  
With powdered head, and hear unshorn:  
With hacks and hews, in every place,  
He seemed like, a man forlorn.   

His sap and savoury sent was past,  
His youthful days, worn in decay:  
His mellowed years, were gone to waste,  
His blowming spring, was blown away.   

His lips and cheeks, were pale and thin,  
His hollowed eyes, were sunk in head:  
His flesh was fret, naught left but skin,  
His marrow dried, that youth had bred.   

His teeth and gums, like harrows stood,  
His furrowed face, like ploughed land:  
His veins did want, their wonted blood,  
His sinews shrunk, like knots did stand.   

A Sea man's cap, on head he ware,  
A sliding stop, of friars grey:  
A chequer Kaep, both thin and bore,  
To furnish up, his quaint array.   

A gables end, his girdle made,  
His shirt besmeared, with Pitch and Tar:  
Close by his side, a rusty blade,  
This carl in youth, a man of war.   

A Pilots compass, he did hold,  
To show what science he professed:  
The skill whereof, had made him bold,  
To sail the seas, both East and West.   

This wight with faltering tongue I say,  
'Gan curse the pranks, his youth had played:  
And then a loud, withouten stay,  
With double sighs, these words he said.   

Woe worth the year, the month, the day,  
The season, time, and instant hour:  
When first I formed, was in clay,  
And took my shape, in earthly bower.   

Woe worth the wight, that joined fast,  
My parents hands, in wedlocks rest:  
Would poison had, been my repast,  
When first I sucked, my mother's breast.   

O would the Nurse, that bound my head,  
Had bruised my brain, with bloody paw:  
Or that my Font, had boiled with Led,  
When I came bound, to Christian law.   

O would the bands, my bane had been,  
That swaddled me, in tender age:  
O would the clouts, I battled in,  
Had been bewitched, with Cyrces' rage.   

Thou cradle that, rocked me a sleep,  
I wish thy couch, had been my grave:  
And who so taught, me first to creep,  
Some vengeance vile, on him I crave.   

When I these things, had seen and heard,  
And thoroughly weighed, this woeful sight:  
It me paid, and made afeard,  
Yet ruing on, his wretched plight.   

I asked him then, from whence he came,  
What cause constrained, him thus to wail:  
What life he led, and what his name,  
What strange mishaps, did him assail.   

Here at a while, he held his peace,  
With wring hands, he wiped his eyes:  
Then my desire, did more increase,  
To know the cause, of all his cries.   

Why stayest thou thus, why dost thou pause,  
Thou spirit, thou man, thou grisly ghost:  
Why stand'st thou still, show me the cause,  
What troubles now, torment thee most.   

O marvel sir, no whit qd he,  
Muse not to see, me in this case:  
I was a man, as now you be,  
Which have misspent, my youthful race.   

In Ladron land, my birth I took,  
Thalassilestis, once I height:  
Both name and soul, I well may brook,  
My life from them, derived a right.   

From noble stock, by true descent,  
Unworthy I, my race doth rise:  
Good land I had, but not content,  
Desire to climb, did blind mine eyes.   

My home and soil, I set at naught,  
My mind was bend, to wander still:  
To Court I came, and there I thought,  
To win both world, and wealth at william.   

This reckoning rash, was made in haste,  
Mine host was absent you may see:  
Then reckon twice, least false thou cast,  
Thus proverbs old, do counsel thee.   

First look then leap, and do not spare,  
Or else thy shins, may chance to bleed:  
He sure shall reap, the crop of care,  
Of rash attempts, that sows the seed.   

Who shoots before, he see his mark,  
No marvel though, he shoot a side:  
In seas unknown, who brings his bark,  
Without a compass, saileth wide.   

Who climbs the Alps, withouten guide,  
Not marvel though, he miss the way:  
In Labyrinth, who so is tied,  
If Dedall help not, there must stay.   

O happy you, that learn by me,  
And my mishaps, your harms to shun:  
Thrice happy they, that can for see,  
The rocks whereon, my bark hath run.   

In Court thus placed, myself I gave,  
With wanton looks, each where to gaze:  
All Peacock's plums, appeared brave,  
Bewitched I was, with glorious blaze.   

With hardened heart, I held that haunt,  
In hope those joys, would never blinne:  
I thought no change, of chance might daunt,  
Or stop the course, I did begin.   

But hoela sir, 'twas time to stay,  
My brave attire, and wanton brags:  
When all my land, was sold away,  
And rents were rapt, on silken rags.   

In Court I spent, both wealth and time,  
Till want had worn, my credit bore:  
Dew for such heads, as seek to climb,  
Before sure footing, they prepare.   

Some that before, I helped at need,  
And saw me sink, thus in decay:  
Did start when they, should stand in steed,  
Unsteadfast then, was all their stay.   

Such friends may be, compared to Kites,  
That carrion corpses do devour:  
The flesh consumed, they take their flights,  
Else where to build, themselves a bower.   

A Glass may seem, a gem in view,  
Till he abide, the hammers blow:  
And Brass doth bear, a golden hew,  
Till touch bewrays, his guileful show.   

When that my ship, had stronger keel,  
They ran their course, with me aboard▪  
Now Fortune frowns, they turn their heel.  
And scarce can spare, me one good word.   

As friendship failed, I fell a pace,  
My foes did swarm, with swelling hate:  
Too dear I bought, my courtly grace,  
Down reeled the props, of mine estate.   

O tickle time, that breeds but tears,  
O sugared sops, be spicest with gall:  
O traitorous tree, that berries bears,  
Whose blossoms gay, deceives us all.   

As pomp puffs up, the heart in pride,  
So plague plucks down, the haughty mind:  
And as the fish, doth follow tide,  
So men runs after Fortune blind.   

I chaste a shadow in the Sun,  
And looked for hap, where hate remained,  
And still the faster did I run,  
The more I found, myself disdained.   

The hollow world, all hail would cry,  
And lead the Lamb, to slaughter so:  
And fraud so finely bleared mine eye,  
I scarce discerned a friend from foe.   

For such as meant, but mere desaite,  
Would make a show, of most good will:  
Thus harmless swallowed poisoned bait,  
And I deceived, by flattery still.   

Then finding Fortunes froward face,  
That erst was cloaked, in crafty cloud:  
I shaped to shun, the doubtful place,  
That makes the painted Peacock proud.   

For as that bird, in borrowed plumes,  
Doth brave it out, with feathers gay,  
So glorious Courtiers have some rumes,  
That doth their sick, estate bewray.   

But when world sees, how finesse deals,  
It makes small count, of glorious shoe:  
So thus I sought, the salve that heals,  
Yet found a med'cin mixed with woe.   

For shunning Court, I came to care,  
Of things to come, and perils passed:  
And put to shifts, through Fortune bore,  
A Pirate I become at last.   

No mind of birth, or gentle blood,  
Can stay the rage, that Rovers have:  
My wits were bend, on worldly good,  
And note how I, might credit save.   

For squaring Dick's, and thristlesse lads,  
The wandering mates, of tigers kind:  
I sought, and so for golden gads,  
To glut thereby, my greedy mind.   

Both Bay and Rode, and harbouring place,  
I knew and there, could closely lie:  
And stoutly gave, a Ship the chase,  
And board what Bark, did please mine eye.   

The yielded men, I flung our hatch,  
The rich I fleest, the poor I slew:  
From friend or foe, my lad's would snatch,  
And daily seek, for booties new.   

The pries and goods, not sooner sold,  
But bib and quaff, like Bacchus knights:  
To Dice and dalliance than we would,  
And so make short, long Winter's nights.   

With brawling blades, then roist and cut  
Or walk the streets, where dames do devil:  
And bolts we had, for every butt,  
And those that shot, at rovers well.   

Sometimes our coin, could stop a gap,  
And purchase pardon by a train:  
But gallows luck, and ropripe hap,  
At length was guerdon for our pain.   

In storms and flaws, we strove with Seas,  
In calms we crept, along the cost:  
In Summer time, we took some ease,  
In Winter oft, with tempests toast.   

And still afeared, of Prince's power,  
A thievish life, dreedes many doubts:  
And they that sought us every hour,  
In Creeks and Havens laid their scouts.   

And so at length, we were espied,  
And followed fast, and forced to fly:  
Then served neither wind nor tied,  
For we must either yield or die.   

My mates put all the fault in me,  
But that prevailed no whit at all:  
For none of them, from blame stood free,  
And our offences were not small.   

So were we sent unto the gail,  
And some trust up, to shorten charge:  
And those that could, by suit prevail,  
Escaped death, and went at large.   

But I in bolts, lay long God wot,  
As one that saw, his end draw near:  
For sure no pardon could be got,  
I must needs buy, my folly dear.   

My friends forsook me every one,  
My foes were glad to see me fast:  
My wealth was spent, my goods were gone,  
And loathsome life, to long did last.   

For I was kept, to wail my sin,  
And save the soul, that God had bought:  
When out of world, I would have been,  
I did so pine, away with thought.   

My cheer was bore, my bed but hard,  
My robes all rent, and torn to rags:  
And world but small did me regard,  
For all my pride, and former brags.   

The day drew on, of my dispatch,  
And that this life, I must forsake:  
And wondering world, did owrly watch,  
To hear the end that I would make:   

Then through the streets, with glaiu's and bills,  
In ropes a foot, was prisoner led:  
Thus captives go, against their wills▪  
Where some that liu's, bewails the dead.   

Some pity much, man's lewdness there,  
And sorry are, to see his end:  
And some that never law did fear,  
By that their evil lives amend.   

Some sigh and sob, and weep for woe,  
Some pray and lift their hands an high:  
And some a heavy face doth show,  
As they these things behold with eye.   

I marked the same, when heart full sad,  
In trembling breast, lay panting sore:  
And where the death deserved I had,  
My grief thereby increased the more.   

Then to the Clouds, I cast up eyes,  
And scorned to look on earthly moss:  
As Soul should mount to sacred Skies,  
And leave be low, all worldly dross.   

A silly tale, I told a lass,  
Of sundry sins, in secret kept:  
Some friends in hearing thereof was,  
That bitterly, my faults be wept.   

But whereto serveth all this gear,  
I lost my life, by Law and right:  
And I must reckon other where,  
For faults I here accounted light.   

Yet mercy may, amend my mis,  
And mercy comes, where grace we crave:  
When cruel world, most dreadful is,  
Of gracious God, we mercy have.   

My sad discourse, is fully told,  
O man that dost, from slumber rise:  
Take pen in hand, and do unfold,  
My fall, and therewith warn the wise.   

Bid them beware, that boldly run,  
They happen not, in hempen cord:  
As many a mother's child hath done,  
That never thoroughly feared the Lord.   

Tell Pirates all, what end I found,  
And show each sort of men my fall:  
That every where, in world so round,  
My scourge and plague, may warn them all.   

O wretched wight, and friend of mine,  
Quoth I, thy fall, I will set forth:  
So that the cunning people fine,  
Do take my labour well in worth.   

Then rose I from the sleep I sought,  
And in at study door I passed:  
And there to pass this work I brought,  
And sent it to, the Print at last.   

So read it as your pleasure is,  
The man I knew, and matter both:  
And to be short, be sure of this,  
This is no toy, but words of troth.   
FINIS.   

A Letter sent from the noble Earl of Ormondes' house at Kilkennie, to the honourable sir Henry Sidney, than Lord deputy, and lying at Rorke, in Ireland.  
IF wit by Art, could make my pen to flow,  
A flood of skill, should answer that I would:  
But land left dry, where streams should largely grow  
Small water brooks, must silly springs unfold,  
A barren ground, can yield no grain's of gold.  
A sorry soil, great store of rubbish bears,  
What need I thus, to trouble tender ears:  
With rude device, and words more light than wind,  
When sweeter frays, should utter grief of mind.  
Long was my wish, to wait on worthy wight,  
Short was the stay, where Fortunes balls rebound:  
Some hap may come, whiles men remain in sight,  
But absence breeds, in breast a cureless wound.  
And out of mind, it brings a friend I know,  
They find the corn, that reaps where other sow:  
They catch the cronies, that waits at table round,  
They hit the mark, that still can ply the bow,  
Where sail I now, my ship is sure on ground.  
May rather lo, I wander on the seas,  
And try the streams, and channels where I pleas:  
But tossed Barks, are weather beaten often,  
And shaken sore, with surges so a fit:  
They can not come, nor safely draw to road,  
In quiet port, and their discharge their load.  
Yet have I been, at Anchor near the Bay,  
And beaten of, the shore in deep despite:  
Where meaner ships, with calm at pleasure lay,  
And felt the fruit, of all my hopes delight.  
I muse how drones, and dastard dolts in deed,  
Dare press in place, and put their betters back:  
methinks a flower, should soon disgrace a weed,  
And vice should blush, where virtue shows no lack.  
Tush, men can now, clapp on a face of Brass,  
And strive by looks, to win the goal and all:  
Yet when they spy, their juggling in a glass,  
They turn their backs, and so forsakes the ball.  
Such maskers lewd, would dance in net unseen,  
And climb the clouds, where smiling Gods do sit:  
Yet all things are, not as these woodcocks ween,  
Their blind belief, runs far beyond their wit.  
And leads their sense, an ace or two a wry,  
What though we take, a Parrot for a Pie:  
Some birds must chat, to fill our ears with cry,  
And we well pleased, although they tell a lie:  
Such are the moods, and humours of our age,  
Where some must walk, according to the time:  
What then, world knows, these birds are not it cage,  
Nor fears the snare, ne falleth in the lime.  
A kind of worms, there be that eats the Nut,  
And leaves the shell, as bore as bore may be:  
Some shooters seek, but how to hit the butt,  
And from the white, they wish their shafts should flee.  
For if they meant, true shooting should be seen,  
They would not fall, to rove on every green:  
Nor flatter so, in hope to mend their game,  
Well some are brought, so far passed worldly shame.  
They little care, what side doth loose or win,  
They neither bet, nor bear a piece of loss:  
And in the end, they prove not worth a pin,  
For all their craft, and creeping to the cross.  
Let fawning whelps, and gropers of good will:  
Pack with the rest, and search what hap will give,  
Some other corn, is grinded at my mill,  
Men may not look, by flattery still to live.  
A finer food, finds fancy for his tooth,  
But may a man, be bold in blunt device:  
To tell his mind, and what blind people doth,  
In weeding thus, my wits were very nice.  
If now I would, not bring a box of spice,  
To season that, that wanted salt before:  
When fire goes out, yet sticks I have in store,  
To mend the flame, though would be dear of price.  
But where the blaze, can warm no hands at all,  
It wakes the wits, and keeps the head from sleep:  
And makes him smile, that seeth through stony wall,  
Like lynx and hath, a golden fleece to keep.  
Yea Argose eyes, to guard his noble charge,  
The care whereof, bereau's the mind of rest:  
And holds him in, where others walk at large,  
To way this world, in balance of the breast.  
A heavy weight, the judgement than doth bear,  
The merry looks, forsakes the cheerful face:  
And sad conceits, do creep in thought I fear,  
And sorrow sour, supplies sweet pleasures place.  
I see a change, of countenance trust me now,  
As though a mass, of matter moved the mind:  
And who so notes, the sudden bended brow,  
By outward show, an inward cause shall find.  
Of troubled spirit, O leave that of in time!  
Those gripping griefs, and gnawing worms are naught  
Call for some sports, or read some trifling rhyme,  
To take away, the ground of grievous thought.  
In such extremes, fine Christmas games are good,  
And musics sound, revives the drowsy brain:  
A tale well told, of merry Robin Hood,  
The wandering heart, it shall bring home again.  
A Fig for those, that stands like stains still,  
And stars in face, to feed they know not what:  
And wheels about, like horse that turns the Mill,  
Yet gain no more, then pretty puss our Cat.  
That seeks for Mouse, when other game is gone,  
The witless fool, for Fish may catch a Frog:  
And wanting flesh, may bite upon a bone,  
So to the fire, the lubber bears the log.  
Because his strength, doth pass his fellows far,  
Now shoot I wrong, I know not where I drib:  
Except my bolt, do hit some blazing star,  
Tush, that's a toy, let Tomkin talk of Tibb.  
And move some mirth, to make the season short,  
It breeds good blood, and puffs up Lenten cheeks:  
When all is done, men lengthen life with sport,  
Some feed on love, as Larks do live with Leeks.  
Some take such thought, they sleep until they snort,  
Some never wakes, to do their neighbours good:  
Some can not spare, their friends a good report,  
Some wade bore legged, to moil for muck and mood.  
Some show good will, yet bear great hate in breast,  
Some make small signs, and bids you judge the rest:  
Some seem like ware, that never melt with fire,  
Some are as cold, as Ice or frozen Snow:  
Some through the nose, do easily draw a wire,  
Some plays the sheep, and proves a crabbed shrew.  
Some lacks no legs, yet knows not where to go,  
Some walks too far, their pace is out of rule:  
Some comes to short, of that we wish to have,  
Some have as much, good manners as a Mule.  
Some fans like whelp, that still the tail can wave.  
In fine this some, may summoned be for naught,  
Yet fill they up, the some of basest thought:  
Moore greater minds, there are of finer mould,  
Whose hearts disdain, to stoop to base delights:  
They shine like pearl, and glitter like the gold,  
The noble Hawks, that stains the dunghill Kites.  
The worthy birds, that soars in lofty Skies,  
The joy of Gods, and glory great of men:  
The whip to fools, and beauty of the wise,  
The whetstone smooth, whereon we sharp our pen.  
Some such have force, to win a world with looks,  
To tear the hearts, out of the bloody breast:  
Such earthly gods, doth sit in secret nooks,  
And tune the strings, of state without a wrist.  
And such in deed, are double treble blest.  
Not sooner they, pronounce a word or twain,  
A silence straight, by listening ears we find:  
That what we hear, our senses may retain,  
And lock it up, in judgement of the mind.  
And whiles we note, the sweetness of their phrase,  
We loose ourselves, and carried are away:  
From that we were, so standing then at maze,  
The field is lost, no turning face that day,  
The fight is done, and broken is the ray.  
There is a stone, that draws hard Iron ye know,  
So is there wood, that water turns to stones:  
Then are there men, that govern where they go,  
And have a gift, of Nature for the nonce.  
To daunt the proud, and strike the haughty down,  
Believe me now, I know who wears a crown:  
And when she lifts, to play the lions part,  
Her words alone, can make men couch by art.  
Not for her place, but for her grace is such,  
To conquer those, that aught her subjects be:  
The self same power, mine inward spirit doth touch,  
Where rightly borne, the regal sword I see.  
For if he speak, that doth her place supply,  
I yield up all, farewell both sense and skill:  
I know each bird, obeys the eagles eye,  
No fish in flood, but fears the Dolphin still.  
The lions looks, makes every beast to bow,  
The pretty Bees, when that their king doth hom:  
Attendance gives, in decent order throw,  
And in a swarm, together will they come.  
If beasts and birds, and fish and Flies do so,  
A man were blind, that doth no duty know:  
Then why am I, so long from Cork you ask,  
The cause is known, when to the North we went:  
I ever lay, like one that took a task,  
Of corn to thrash, and till the straw was spent.  
I had no bed, yea twelve long weeks at lest,  
I shifted out, and lay as bad as beast.  
Then drew we home, from savage country wild,  
But Harbinger, no better order took:  
I durst not then, complain like little child,  
That flings from school, and madly burns his book.  
So then for sleep, and ease I 'gan to look.  
And left the stream, where fish for place doth strive,  
But loath to part, yet glad to lie in sheets:  
Because with rest, our days away we drive,  
And laisure find, to charm and coniour sprites.  
A cunning knack, for shrewed and wicked heads,  
That watch the Moon, and search in garden beds:  
What herbs are good, to make a wild Goose came,  
And where and how, the mad dog must be cuerd:  
That is no art, but for old distaff dame,  
That looks like witthe, whose practice hath procuerd.  
A Horse or Mare, to swell and pine to death,  
Some say for sport, these Callioghes knows a knack:  
To blow down trees, they have so strong a breath,  
What needs more words, a plague take all the pack,  
That plays foul play, in house, in holt, or heath.  
Let trifles pass, I use some household talk,  
And writ of state, and how the world doth frame:  
Much shall they here, that long abroad doth walk,  
And have some sight, and skill to mark the same.  
They say this land, hath many sores and griefs,  
That few or none, do seek to salve a right:  
And is so spoiled, by Rebels, Knaves, and thieves,  
(And bareleggd Kerne, which sets all goodness light)  
That worse and worse, the common wealth doth wax,  
Why every head, should members bad reform:  
And if men please, to take the fire from flax,  
The kernel sweet, should soon be safe from worm.  
Though some have sought, their only private gain,  
And fed on fleece, that from the flock did fall:  
Yet grace is left, and hope there doth remain,  
That some doth live, to mend the mischiefs all.  
But to be plain, I hear a woeful cry,  
The 'noys whereof, resounds through starry Sky.  
The poor that lives, by toil and sweat of brows,  
(And near good towns, where each man knows his own:)  
Can not be free, nor well enjoy their ploughs,  
They are in deed, with self, so overthrown.  
In any place, where proudest people devil,  
Whose rule is mixed, with rage and rigour still:  
Was never seen, nor felt so foul an hell,  
As this good Lord, where waest doth what it william.  
Such as be borne, as free as we ourselves,  
And tills the ground, and dearly pays therefore:  
(And for their babes, full truly digs and delves)  
In their most need, we plague and scourge full sore.  
Beyond the course, of reason, law and right,  
A cruel case, and twice as heavy a sight:  
To see the weak, with strongest thrust to wall,  
And loose their goods, and not the half but all.  
The people say, were coin and livery gone,  
The land would sure, with Milk and Honey flow:  
Their trust is now, redress is coming on,  
And havoc shall, to hateful harbour go.  
Why strive I thus, to thunder in the air,  
That never knew, how rain in season fell:  
When storms are past, and weather waxeth fair,  
By heavens bliss, we shone the pains of hell.  
When peace bears fruit, and wicked war decay:  
I gauge my life, that all thing shallbe well,  
And world will say, we live in happy days.  
No flower at first, can yield a perfit smell,  
Till time brings forth, from stalk both buds and leaves,  
Who seeks for nuts, till hardened be the shell,  
The kernel wants, and so himself deceives.  
The minds of men, would quickly have their wish,  
And have such haste, of that they do desire,  
That often time, without good skill they fish:  
Or leaping dike, they light a mid the mire.  
Who will not stay, for weather, wind, and flood,  
Shall sail but seld, and see no foreign soil:  
It must be time, that doth the people good,  
As Harvest comes, of labour pain and toil.  
To enter thus, in matters of great weight,  
Would vex the wits, of riper heads than mine:  
'tis better use, the pen with simple sleight,  
Then in grave things, to make the phrase too fine:  
As inkhorn terms, smells of the school sometime,  
So far fetched words, are farsed full of lard:  
And paper stuffed, with store of stretched rhyme,  
Doth turn again, disgraced without regard.  
Else flung a side, or laid in window nook:  
As fancies vain, whereon few wisemen look.  
There pause a while, God shield my labour so,  
Were lost my Lord, they cost me further pain:  
A mornings muse, a merry freak ye know,  
A whole night's watch, a broken sleep or twain.  
Though trifles come, from heads full fraught with toys,  
Some get great thanks, for pings and laces light:  
We like no Drone, nor Bagpipe for the 'noys,  
Nor May pole mirth, for any show or sight.  
But for the sport, and gladness that they bring:  
Whose cheerful sound, makes heavy sad men sing,  
A noble art, is Music sure I find,  
For noble life, that merchant doth maintain:  
He can make sale, of feathers in the wind,  
And cell good cheap, a drowsy addle brain:  
Yet Music not, compares with merry mind,  
For that brings blood, to every vital vain.  
And heaves up heart, from dungeon of despair:  
To be as blithe, as bird in open air.  
If any glance, of matter be in this,  
Passed merry mean, yet merry muse it is:  
That leads my pen, I swear by heavens bliss.  
Wherefore in mirth, I pray you take these lines,  
My duty may, excuse my boldness here:  
I borrowed not, my words of grave divines,  
Nor of fine wits, that holds small dainties dear.  
They came good cheap, from merry nurses pap,  
Good cheap they go, where muses favour most:  
But dear they are, if writer find mishap,  
Thereby, and world, accounted the labour lost.  
God grant the time, be good when they were sent,  
And that each word, be taken as I meant:  
The best is sure, and that is most to praies,  
They go to one, I honour all my days.  
FINIS.   

The Epitaphe of the rare virtuous Prince (and towards Imp of grace) King Edward the sixth.  

THe Lamp is out, that lightened English hearts,  
Whose lively shoe, and beauty shone so bright:  
And gave such joy, to all our inward smarts,  
That well was him, that had thereon a sight.  
Edward I mean, which was our king by right.  
The golden torch, and candle matutine,  
Did blaze and burn, within his Christalleyne,  
But well away, those looks their life hath lost,  
Full dim and dark,  
Is now that spark:  
That whilom was, the stay of England's boast.   

Now Death hath dried, this pleasant princely plant,  
And hent our hap, an high above the skies:  
Who knows the loss, but those, that feel the want,  
Wherefore the tears, distilled from our eyes.  
But since this babe, hath made his sacrifies.  
And yielded up, his life and vital breath:  
What can ye blame, but hasty cruel death.  
Which plucked the Rose, before his leaves were spread,  
Yet shall his name,  
Remain with fame:  
And flourish still, although the flower be dead.   

A face so fraught, with favour blooming still,  
A cheer so chaste, subduing each desire,  
A head so ripe, with grace and cunning skill:  
A tongue so decked, and clad in troths attire,  
A heart so meek, and clean devoid of ire.  
An ear so pure, to hear the poor man's cause:  
A wit to judge, a zeal to make good laws.  
A hand so clear, from blood, look well thereon,  
Was seldom seen,  
In King ne Queen:  
alas the while, our Lanterns light is gone.   

His wit wan praise, as by his ways appears,  
His virtuous steps, won fame among the wise,  
His tender youth, did teach the aged years:  
His sober life, rebuked every vice,  
His words and works, did pass the pearl in price.  
His gestures all, if they were graven in gold:  
A mirror were, to learn both young and old.  
Wherefore the unfit, the earth is for his grave,  
His place of rest,  
Is Abraham's breast:  
A worthy tomb, for such a King to have.   
Finis.   

The Epitaphe of the worthy Earl of Essex.  
I Blush to writ, in verse, a matter of such weight,  
That makes the hearers shed some tears, and moveth sorrow straight:  
In grave and stately style, this tale should sounded be:  
Too base for such great cause I find, my slender muse and me.  
My heart doth bleed in breast, my pen in hand doth shake,  
Mine inward spirits do weep for woe, this sad discourse to make,  
But though with heavy news, a while I fill your ears,  
The fame I writ of this great man, to joy shall turn your tears  
Yea great of birth and mind, and few so great as he,  
For daily through deserts he grew, in greatness by degree:  
A Caesar's heart he boar, that never shrunk nor quailed,  
A courage that against his foes, in all attempts prevailed.  
A head that could conceive, as far as cause was found,  
A body apt for warlike broils, where bounty did abound:  
Yea for his bounty great, a prince in very deed,  
That made no more account of gold, then of a rotten reed.  
The noble gifts he gave, a world of worthies wan,  
Was never seen, in Britain bred, for bounty such a man.  
An Earl and lively Lord, as mild as is the Dove,  
Whose courtuous speech & pleasant port, did purchase people's love.  
A friend to all good men, as fast and true as steel,  
That would not wag with world's abuse, & turn about like wheel  
A peerless subject sure, that England's honour sought,  
And card not with what loss of goods, his country gain was bought  
Full bend to Martial feats, a Mars in deed well tried,  
Abroad in field where men are known, and cowards easily spied:  
The care of public weal, lay waking in his eyes,  
A noble Soldier framed by kind, in best and bravest gyes.  
A house and household kept, so frankly every where,  
That all the lookers on would say, some prince was placed there  
The Soldiers swarmed like Bees, about his stately gate,  
He was a Lantern of this land, and Mirror of the state.  
In all things that he did, than what a loss had they:  
That comes to see his noble shrine, and finds the saint away.  
O friends that honoured him, and faithful servants both,  
Come weep with me, & show thereby, some sign of your great troth  
For I have lost a friend, and for his sake I vow,  
To plant my pen upon his tomb, and rest from writing now  
Till I his like may find, which hardly shallbe done:  
O Essexe of renowned fame, thy race is nobly run.  
FINIS.