TO THE DESERVING MEMORY OF MY WORTHY PATRON Sir Walter Aston, Knight of the honourable Order of the Bath, I consecreate my short Poem.   

TO THE READER.  
TO thee that shalt peruse this Poem, and not conversant in the histories of those times, (I am persuaded) these brief Annotations shall not be altogether impertinent. By reason the letter (without my knowledge) was chosen too large for the paper, I am constrained to do as men sometime preparing great banquets, and deceived of table room, to send in one dish what should have served to set out many; as to put in this one preface what should have been in marginal notes stuck in sundry places against the stanzas to which they are apropriate: as this.  
The 9 page, the 2. stanze, For having Boston business etc. The town of Boston sued to the Pope for the reauthorizing their Haven, which had been suspended from that Sea, selecting one Chambers for that business, who being on his way at Antwerp, finding Cromwell, a man industrious and experienced, made choice of him as his assistant, whom he won to go along with him to Rome.  
The 11. page, the 1. stanze, Russell and Pace etc. both great States men of that time, and employed by Henry the 8. in foreign Intelligence, after both Secretaries, and Russell by him created Earl of Bedford.  
The 15. page, the 3. stanze, Where learned More and Gardiner etc. For the former so famous, as who knoweth not I hold him unworthy to know; the latter, Stephen Gardiner, after Bishop of Winchester, a learned and politic Prelate, and one that was in the end a chief instrument of Cromwel's overthrow.  
The 20. page, the 2. stanze, Bedford whose life etc. This was that Russell, as I have said before, by Henry the 8. created Earl of Bedford; as in the same stanze, And reverend Hails, etc. Sir Christopher hails Master of the Rolls, a man in great grace with the King, and an especial favourer of Cromwell.  
The 23. page, the 1. stanze, line 2. Of hospitable Friscobald and me etc. This Friscobald a Florentine Merchant, relieving Cromwell, being in great necessity, who after being Chancellor of England he honourably requited. This story containeth some 14. stanzas.  
The 28. page, the 3. stanze, And the King late obedient to her laws, against the Clerk of Germany etc. King Henry the 8. wrote a book against Luther, which book afterward Luther (forgetting all kingly titles) roughly answered.  
The 34. page, the 1. stanze, Pierce the wise Ploughman etc. The moral of Contrition and the Friar, the matter of which is Pierce Ploughman's in his vision, the workmanship thereof wholly mine own, containing about 10. stanzas.  
FINIS.   

TO MASTER MICHAEL DRAYTON his Friend.  
I Would my verses could thy Book advance  
B'oue these two fiends; Envy, and Ignorance.  
Thy subject of such worth, thy pen so smooth,  
Cannot escape the ever-sharpned tooth  
Of that first monster; who himself deceives,  
Whilst like a Canker, hid among the leaves,  
He seeks to o'erspread, consume, at least deface,  
The beauty of thy Muse, and Cromwel's grace.  
Such as have been thy Apes (and shall not be  
Other then so) shall idly carp at thee:  
So much hath lewdness won upon this Age,  
Such the contempt, the impudence, the rage  
Of every ragged Rymer, who would be  
Within himself Monarch of Poesy.  
But let them perish, whilst thy works thee raise  
Unto a greater fortune, than men's praise.  
I. Cook.   

To his worthily dear friend Master Michael Drayton.  
HOw those great titles that employ our breath  
To deck the marble, where our ashes lie,  
Are trophies of the harms, that in our death  
Best do express our golden misery:  
This Oracle thy Muse divinely reads  
In Cromwel's stars, that could ambition see,  
She would not wish their seeming-happie dreads,  
That nearest jove and his proud thunder be.  
So short a period Fate hath limited  
To giddy power, that breathes but grace and air,  
Soon cloyed, or those that all have lavished,  
Or they, who full, of getting more despair.  
But thy dear times, whose happy Genius  
Breathes a new life to Cromwel's dying name,  
And his rend honours, Envy scattered thus,  
Whiles in the book of that great Herald Fame,  
Nought can them hurt, nor times consuming rust,  
Nor th'angry frown, that idly we adore;  
This Pyramid shall stand, when in the dust  
Their names are laid, the Diadem that wore.  
Henry Lucas.   

TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND Michael Drayton upon his Poem.  
TO thee true image of Eternity  
Time; that revolves the graven leaves of Fate,  
(Yet giv'st men Lethe stead of Memory,  
Because injurious to all human state)  
Cromwell appears appareled in verse,  
The fit'st and noblest ornament of fame,  
The doom of Envy gravely to reverse,  
That else to darkness had condemned his name:  
For Time thou knowst it only is the Muse  
That Man to immortality can raise.  
O Greatness how thyself dost thou abuse,  
With the slight soothing of poor verbal praise?  
Here shall you find Factions (which are the rent,  
And disuniting of a league combined)  
Make havoc in a civil government;  
The grace of Kings unconstant as the wind.  
For as corruptive bodies do depend  
On humorous matter, motions, and their pauses;  
So States begin, have progress, and do end,  
Because they sympathize with natural causes.  
Here shall you find (like music shifting mood)  
How times do change: vicissitude and sway  
Of men, and manners; and by self decay  
How each thing lives: force not the envious brood  
Renowned friend, but triumph in desert,  
judgement hath led thy Pen, and Truth thy Art.  
Christopher Brooke.   

THE LEGEND OF GREAT CROMWELL.  

A Waked, and trembling betwixt rage and dread  
With the loud slander (by the impious time)  
That of my actions every where is spread,  
Through which to honour falsely I should climb,  
From the sad dwelling of th'untimely dead,  
To quit me of that execrable crime,  
Cromwell appears his wretched plight to show,  
Much that can tell, one much that once did know.   

Roughly not made up in the common mould,  
That with the vulgar vilely I should die,  
What thing so strange of Cromwell is not told?  
What man more praised? who more condemned than I?  
That with the world when I am waxed old,  
Most 'twere unfit that fame of me should lie  
With fables vain my history to fill,  
Forcing my good, excusing of my ill.   

You that but hearing of my hated name,  
Your ancient malice instantly bewray,  
And for my sake your ill deserved blame  
Upon my legend publicly shall lay,  
Would you forbear to blast me with defame,  
Might I so mean a privilege but pray,  
He that three ages hath endured your wrong,  
Hear him a little that hath heard you long.   

Since Rome's sad ruin here by me began,  
Who her Religion plucked up by the root,  
Of the false world such hate for which I won,  
Which still at me her poisned'st darts doth shoot;  
That to excuse it, do the best I can,  
Little I fear my labour me will boot:  
Yet will I speak my troubled heart to ease,  
Much to the mind, herself it is to please.   

O powerful number, from whose stricter law  
Heart-moving music did receive the ground  
Which men to fair civility did draw  
With the brute beast when lawless he was found:  
O if according to the wiser saw  
There be a high divinity in sound,  
Be now abundant prosperously to aid  
The pen prepared my doubtful case to plead.   

Putney the place made blessed in my birth,  
Whose meanest cottage simply me did shroud,  
To me as dearest of the English earth;  
So of my bringing that poor village proved,  
Though in a time when never less the dearth  
Of happy wits, yet mine so well allowed  
That with the best she boldly durst confer  
Him that his breath acknowledged from her.   

Twice flowed proud Thames as at my coming wood,  
Striking the wondering borderers with fear,  
And the pale Genius of that aged flood  
Unto my mother labouring did appear,  
And with a countenance much distracted stood,  
Threatening the fruit her pained womb should bear:  
My speedy birth being added thereunto,  
Seemed to foretell that much I came to do,   

That was reserved for those worse days,  
As the great ebb unto so long a flow,  
When what those ages formerly did raise,  
This when I lived did lastly overthrow,  
And that great'st labour of the world did seize,  
Only for which immedicable blow  
Due to that time me dooming heaven ordai'nd,  
Wherein confusion absolutely reigned.   

Vainly yet noted this prodigious sign,  
Often predictions of most fearful things,  
As plagues, or war, or great men to decline,  
Rising of Commons, or the death of Kings;  
But some strange news though ever it divine,  
Yet forth them not immediately it brings,  
Until the'ffects men afterward did learn,  
To know that me it chiefly did concern.   

Whilst yet my father by his painful trade,  
Whose laboured anvil only was his fee,  
Whom my great towardness strongly did persuade  
In knowledge to have educated me:  
But death did him unluckily invade,  
Ere he the fruits of his desire could see,  
Leaving me young, then little that did know  
How me the heavens had purposed to bestow.   

Hopeless as helpless most might me suppose,  
Whose meanness seemed their abject breath to draw:  
Yet did my breast that glorious fire enclose,  
Which their dull purblind ignorance not saw,  
Which still is settled upon outward shows,  
The vulgars' judgement ever is so raw,  
Which the unworthiest sottishly do love  
In their own region properly that move.   

Yet me my fortune so could not disguise,  
But through this cloud were some that did me know,  
Which then the rest more happy or more wise,  
Me did relieve when I was driven low,  
Which as the stair by which I first did rise,  
When to my height I afterward did grow,  
Them to requite my bounties were so high,  
As made my fame through every ear to fly.   

That height and Godlike purity of mind  
Resteth not still, where titles most adorn  
With any, nor peculiarly confined  
To names, and to be limited doth scorn:  
Man doth the most degenerate from kind,  
Richest and poorest both alike are borne;  
And to be always pertinently good,  
Follows not still the greatness of our blood.   

Pity it is that to one virtuous man  
That mark him lent to gentry to advance,  
Which first by noble industry he won,  
His base issue after should enhance,  
And the rude slave not any good that can,  
Such should thrust down by what is his by chance:  
As had not he been first that him did raise,  
Near had his great heir wrought his grandsires praise.   

How weak art thou that makest it thy end  
To heap such worldly dignities on thee,  
When upon fortune only they depend,  
And by her changes governed must be?  
Besides the dangers still that such attend,  
Liuel'est of all men portrayed out in me,  
When that for which I hated was of all,  
Soonest from me fled, scarce tarrying for my fall.   

You that but boast your ancestors proud style,  
And the large stem whence your vain greatness grew,  
When you yourselves are ignorant and vile,  
Nor glorious thing dare actually pursue,  
That all good spirits would utterly exile,  
Doubting their worth should else discover you,  
Giving yourselves unto ignoble things;  
Base I proclaim you though derived from Kings.   

Virtue but poor, God in this earth doth place  
'Gainst the rude world to stand up in his right,  
To suffer sad affliction and disgrace,  
Not ceasing to pursue her with despite:  
Yet when of all she is accounted base,  
And seeming in most miserable plight,  
Out of her power new life to her doth take,  
Lest then dismayed when all do her forsake.   

That is the man of an undaunted spirit,  
For her dear sake that offereth him to die,  
For whom, when him the world doth disinherit,  
Looketh upon it with a pleased eye,  
What's done for virtue thinking it doth merit,  
Daring the proudest menaces defy,  
More worth than life, how ere the base world rate him,  
Beloved of heaven, although the earth doth hate him.   

Injurious time, unto the good unjust,  
O how may weak posterity suppose  
Ever to have their merit from the dust,  
'Gainst them thy partiality that knows  
To thy report O who shall ever trust,  
Triumphant arches building unto those  
Aloud the longest memory to have,  
That were the most unworthy of a grave?   

But my clear mettle had that powerful heat,  
As it not turned with all that fortune could:  
Nor when the world me terriblest did threat,  
Could that place win which my high thoughts did hold,  
That waxed still more prosperously great,  
The more the world me strove to have controlled,  
On my own Columes constantly to stand,  
Without the false help of another's hand.   

My youthful course thus wisely did I steer,  
T'avoid those rocks my wrack that else did threat:  
Yet some fair hopes from far did still appear,  
If that too much my wants me did not let:  
Wherefore myself above myself to bear,  
Still as I grew I knowledge strove to get,  
To perfect that which in the Embryon was,  
Whose birth I found time well might bring to pass.   

But when my means to fail me I did find,  
Myself to travel presently betook,  
As much distasteful to my noble mind,  
That the vile world into my wants should look,  
And of myself industriously inclined,  
To measure others actions with my book,  
I might my judgement rectify thereby,  
In matters that were difficult and high.   

When lo it happed that fortune as my guide,  
Of me did with such providence dispose,  
That th'English Merchants then who did reside  
At Antwerp, me their Secretary chose,  
(As though in me to manifest her pride)  
Whence to those principalities I rose,  
To pluck me down, whence afterward she feared  
Beyond her power that almost she had reared.   

When first the wealthy Netherlands me trained  
In wise commerce most proper to the place,  
And from my country carefully me waned,  
That with the world did chiefly win me grace,  
Where great experience happily I gained;  
Yet here I seemed but tutored for a space,  
For high employment otherwise ordained,  
Till which the time I idly entertained.   

For having Boston business in hand,  
The charge thereof on Chambers being laid,  
Coming to Flanders happed to understand  
Of me, whom he requested him to aid;  
Of which when I the benefit had scanned,  
Weighing what time at Antwerp I had stayed,  
Quickly me won fair Italy to try,  
Under a cheerful and more lucky sky:   

For what the meanest clearly makes to shine,  
Youth, wit, and courage, all in me concur  
In every project, that so powerful trine  
By whose kind working bravely I did stir,  
Which to each high and glorious design  
(The time could offer) freely did me spur,  
As forcing fate some new thing to prepare  
(Showing success) t'attempt that could me dare:   

Where now my spirit got roomth itself to show,  
To the fairest pitch doth make a gallant flight,  
From things that too much earthly were and low,  
Strongly attracted by a genuine light,  
Where higher still it every day did grow;  
And being in so excellent a plight,  
Craved but occasion happily to prove  
How much it sat each vulgar spirit above.   

The good success th'affairs of England found,  
Much praised the choice of me that had been made:  
For where most men the depth durst hardly found,  
I held it nothing boldly through to wade  
Myself, and through the strait'st ways I wound.  
So could I act, so well I could persuade  
As merely jovial, me to mirth apply,  
Composed of freedom and alacrity.   

Not long it was ere Rome of one did ring  
(Hardly shall Rome so full days see again)  
Of freemens catches to the Pope I sing,  
Which won much licence to my countrymen,  
Thither the which I was the first did bring,  
That were unknown to Italy till then:  
Light humours them when judgement doth direct,  
Even of the wise win plausible respect.   

And those from home that pensions were allowed,  
And here did for Intelligence remain,  
Under my power themselves were glad to shroud,  
Russell and Pace yea oftentimes were fain,  
When as their names they durst not have avowed,  
Me into their society t'retaine,  
Rising before me mighty as they were,  
Great though at home, yet did they need me there.   

In foreign parts near friends I yet forsake  
That had before been deeply bound to me,  
And would again I use of them should make,  
But still my stars command I should be free,  
And all those offers lightly from me shake,  
Which to requite I fettered else might be,  
And though that oft great perils me oppunge,  
And means were weak, my mind was ever strong.   

And those great wants fate to my youth did tie  
Me from delights of those rich countries drive,  
Thereby enforced with painful industry  
Against affliction manfully to strive  
Under her burden faintly not to lie,  
But since my good I hardly must derive,  
Unto the same to make myself a way  
Through all the power against me she could lay.   

As a Comedian where my life I led,  
For so a while my need did me constrain,  
With other my poor countrymen (that played)  
Thither that came in hope of better gain,  
Whereas when fortune seemed me low to tread  
Under her feet, she set me up again,  
Until the use me bade her not to fear  
Her good and ill that patiently could bear.   

Till Charles the fifth th'imperial power did bend  
'Gainst Rome, which Bourbon skilfully did guide,  
Which sore declining Italy did rend;  
For th'right that him her holiness denied,  
Wholly herself enforced to defend  
'Gainst him that justly punished her pride,  
To which myself I lastly did betake,  
Seeing thereof what fortune meant to make.   

And at the siege with that great General served,  
When he did girt her stubborn waste with steel,  
Within her walls who well near being starved,  
And that with faintness she began to reel,  
Showing herself a little as she swerved:  
First her then noting I began to feel,  
She whose great power so far abroad did roam,  
What in herself she truly was at home.   

That the great school of the false world was then,  
Where her's their subtle practices did vie,  
Amongst that mighty confluence of men,  
French plots propped up by English policy,  
The Germane powers, false shuffling, and again  
All countermined by skilful Italy,  
Each one in possibility to win,  
Great rests were up and mighty hands were in.   

●ere first to work my busy brain was set,  
My inclination finding it to please  
This stirring world which strongly still did whet)  
To temper in so dangerous assays,  
Which did strange forms of policies beget;  
Besides in times so turbulent as these,  
Wherein my studies hopefully did bend  
Unto that point the wisest made their end:   

And my experience happily me taught  
●nto the secrets of those times to see,  
From whence to England afterward I brought  
Those slights of state delivered unto me,  
●n t'which were then but very few that sought,  
Nor did with th'umour of that age agree,  
After did great and fearful things effect,  
Whose secret working few did then suspect.   

When though 'twere long it happened yet at last  
Some hopes me homeward secretly allured,  
When many perils strangely I had passed,  
As many sad calamities endured  
Beyond the Moon, when I began to cast  
By my rare parts what place might be procured,  
If they at home were to the mighty known,  
How they would seem compared with their own   

Or if that there the great should me neglect,  
As I the worst that vainly did not fear,  
To my experience how to gain respect  
In other countries that do hold it dear,  
And now occasion seemed to reject,  
Whilst still before me other rising were,  
And some themselves had mounted to the sky,  
Little before unlike to thrive as I   

When now in England Bigamy with blood  
Lately begot by luxury and pride,  
In their great'st fullness peremptory stood;  
Some there unto that diligently pride,  
Stillie were fishing in that troubled flood  
For future changes wisely to provide,  
Finding the world so rankly then to swell,  
That till it broke it never could be well.   

●●t floating long upon my first arrive,  
whilst many doubts me seemed to appall,  
●●ke to a bark that with the tide doth drive,  
●●uing not left to fasten it with all,  
●●us with the time by suffering I do strive  
●●to what harbour doubtful yet to fall;  
Until enforced to put it to the chance,  
Casting the fairest my fortune to advance.   

●aking myself to mighty Wolsey known,  
●●a● Atlas which the government up staid,  
●hich from mean place in little time was grown  
●p unto him, that weight upon him laid,  
●nd being got the nearest to his throne,  
●e the more easily the gre●● kingdom swayed,  
Leaving there on his wearded self to breath,  
Whilst even the greatest fair sat him beneath.   

●here learned Mo●e and Gardener I met,  
●●en in those times immatchable for wit,  
●ble that were the 〈◊〉 spirit to whet,  
●…nd did my humour excellently fit,  
●… to their rank that worthily did get  
●here as their proud 〈◊〉 it or to sit,  
O 〈◊〉 excellence to 〈◊〉 is the mother,  
Wit doth as breathless one beget another.   

This Founder of the palaces of Kings,  
Whose veins with more than usual spirit were filled  
A man ordained to the mighti'st things,  
In Oxford then determining to build  
To Christ a College, and together brings  
All that thereof the great foundation wills,  
There me employeth, whose industry he found  
Worthy to work upon the noblest ground.   

Yet in the entrance wisely that did fear  
Coin might fall short, yet with this work on fire,  
Wherefore such houses as Religious were  
Whose being no necessity require,  
But that the greater very well might bear,  
From Rome the Cardinal cunningly did hire,  
Winning withal his Sovereign to consent,  
Both colouring with so holy an intent.   

This like a symptom to a long disease  
Was the forerunner to this mighty fall,  
And but too unadvisedly did cease  
Upon the part that ruinated all,  
Which had the work been of so many days  
And more again, recover hardly shall:  
But lo it sunk which time did long uphold,  
Where now it lies even leveled with the mould.   

Thus thou great Rome here first waste overthrown,  
Thy future harms that blindly couldst not see,  
And in this work they only were thine own,  
Whose knowledge lent that deadly wound to thee,  
Which to the world before had they not shown,  
Near had those secrets been descried by me,  
Nor by thy wealth so many from the plough  
Worn those high types wherein they flourish now.   

After when as the Cardinal again  
Into high favour with the King me brought,  
With whom myself so well I did demean,  
As that I seemed to exercise his thought,  
And his great liking strongly did retain  
With what before my Master me had taught,  
From whose example by those Cells were small,  
Sprang the subversion lastly of them all.   

Yet many a let was cast into the way,  
Wherein I ran so steadily and right,  
And many a snare my adversaries lay,  
Much wrought they with their power, much with their slight,  
Wisely perceiving that my smallest stay  
Fully required the utmost of their might,  
To my ascendant hasting me to climb,  
There as the first predomining the time,   

Knowing what wealth me earnestly did woo,  
Which I through Wolsey happened had to find,  
And could the path most perfectly unto,  
The King thereafter earnestly inclined,  
Seeing besides what after I might do  
If so great power me fully were assigned,  
By all their means against me strongly wrought,  
Labouring as fast to bring their Church to nought.   

Whilst to the King continually I sue,  
And in this business faithfully did stir  
Strongly t'approve my judgement to be true  
'Gainst those who most supposed me to err,  
Nor the least means which any way I knew  
Might grace me, or my purposes prefer  
Did I omit, till won I had his ear,  
Most that me marked when least he seemed to hear   

This wound to them thus violently given,  
Envy at me her sharpest darts doth rove,  
Affecting the supremacy of heaven,  
As the first Giants warring against jove,  
Heaped hills on hills, the Gods till they had driven  
The meanest shapes of earthly things to prove:  
So must I shift from them against me rose,  
Mortal their hate, as mighty were my foes.   

But their great force against me wholly bent  
Prevailed upon my purposes so far,  
That I my ruin scarcely could prevent,  
So momentary worldly favours are,  
That till the utmost of their spite was spent,  
Had not my spirit maintained a manly war,  
Risen they had when laid I had been low,  
Upon whose ruin after I did grow.   

When the great King their strange reports that took  
That as pernicious as they potent were,  
Which at the fair growth of my fortune struck,  
Whose deadly malice blame me not to fear,  
Me at the first so violently shook,  
That they this frame were likely down to bear,  
If resolution with a settled brow  
Had not upheld my peremptory vow.   

Yet these encounters thrust me not awry,  
Nor could my courses force me to forsake,  
After this ship wrack I again must try  
Some happier voyage hopeful still to make,  
The plots that barren long we see did lie,  
Some fitting season plentifully take,  
One fruitful harvest frankly doth restore  
What many winters hindered had before.   

That to account I strictly call my wit  
How it this while had managed my state,  
My soul in counsel summoning to sit,  
If possible to turn the course of fate,  
For ways there be the greatest things to hit,  
If men could find the peremptory gate,  
And since I once was got so near the brink  
More than before, 'twould grieve me now to sink.   

Bedford whose life (some said) that I had saved  
In Italy, one me that favoured most,  
And reverend Hails who but occasion craved  
To show his love, no less that I had cost,  
Who to the King perceiving me disgraced,  
Whose favour I unluckily had lost,  
Both with him great, a foot set in withal  
If not to stay, to qualify my fall.   

High their regard, yet hire was their hap,  
Well near quite sunk recover me that could,  
And once more get me into fortune's lap,  
Which well myself might teach me there to hold,  
Escaped out of so dangerous a trap,  
Whose praise by me to ages shall be told,  
As the two props by which I only rose,  
When most suppressed, most trod on by my foes.   

This me to urge the praemunire won,  
Ordained in matters dangerous and high,  
In t'which the heedless Prelacy were run,  
That back unto the Papacy did fly,  
Sworn to that sea, and what before was done  
Due to the King, dispensed were thereby,  
In t'which first entering offered me the mean  
That to throw down already that did lean.   

This was to me that overflowing source,  
From whence his bounties plentifully spring,  
Whose speedy current with unusual force  
Bore me into the bosom of the King,  
By putting him into that ready course  
Which soon to pass his purposes might bring,  
Where those which late imperiously controlled me,  
Pale struck with fear stood trembling to behold me.   

When state to me those ceremonies showed  
That to so great a favourite were due,  
And fortune still with honours did me load,  
As though no mean she in my rising knew,  
Or heaven to me more than to man had owed,  
(What to the world unheard of was and new)  
And was to other sparing of her store  
Till she could give, or ask I could no more.   

Those high preferments he upon me laid,  
Might make the world me publicly to know  
Such as in judgement rightly being weighed,  
Seemed too great for me to undergo,  
Nor could his hand from pouring on be staid  
Until I so abundantly did flow,  
That looking down whence lately I was cloame,  
Danger bid fear if further I should roam.   

For first from Knighthood rising in degree,  
The office of the jewel house my lot,  
After the Rolls he frankly gave to me,  
From whence a privy Counsellor I got,  
Chose of the Garter: and the Earl to be  
Of Essex: yet sufficient these not  
But to the great vicegerency I grew,  
Being a title as supreme as new.   

So well did me these dignities befit,  
And honour so me every way became,  
As more than man I had been made for it,  
Or as from me it had derived the name:  
Where was that man whose love I not requited  
Beyond his own imaginary aim,  
Which had me succoured nearly being driven  
As things to me that idly were not given?   

What tongue so slow the tale shall not report  
Of hospitable Friscobald and me,  
And show in how reciprocal a sort  
My thanks did with his courtesy agree,  
When as my means in Italy were short  
That me relieved, less great that would not be,  
When I of England Chancellor was made,  
His former bounties librally repaid?   

The manner briefly gentler Muse relate,  
Since oft before it wisely hath been told,  
The sudden change of unavoided fate,  
That famous Merchant reverend Friscobald  
Grew poor, and the small remnant of his state  
Was certain goods to England he had sold,  
Which in the hands of Creditors but bad,  
Small hope to get, yet lesser means he had.   

Hither his wants him forcibly constrained,  
Though with long travel both by land and seas,  
Led by this hope that only now remained,  
Whereon his fortune finally he lays,  
And if he found that friendship here were feigned,  
Yet at the worst it better should him please,  
far out of sight to perish here unknown,  
Then unrelieved be pitied of his own.   

It chanced as I toward Westminster did ride,  
'mongst the great concourse passing to and fro,  
An aged man I happily espied,  
Whose outward looks much inward grief did show,  
Which made me near him, and the more I eyed  
Him, me thought more precisely I should know,  
Revolving long it came into my mind,  
This was the man to me had been so kind:   

Was therewithal so joyed with his sight,  
(With the dear sight of his so reverend face)  
That I could scarcely keep me from t'alight,  
And in mine arms him openly embrace;  
Weighing yet (well) what some imagine might,  
He being a stranger and the public place  
Checked my affection; till some fitter hour  
On him my love effectually might shower.   

Never quoth I was fortune so unjust  
As to do wrong unto thy noble heart,  
What man so wicked could betray the trust  
Of one so upright of so good desert?  
And though obey necessity thou must,  
As when the great'st the same to me thou art,  
Let me alone the last be left of all,  
That from the rest declined not with thy fall.   

And calling to a Gentleman of mine,  
Wise and discreet that well I knew to be,  
show'd him that stranger, whose dejected eyen  
Fixed on the earth near once looked up at me,  
Bid yonder man come home to me and dine  
(Quoth I) bespeak him reverently (you see)  
Scorn not his habit, little canst thou tell  
How rich a mind in those mean rags doth dwell.   

He with my name that kindly did him greet,  
Slowly cast up his deadly-moving eye,  
That long time had been fixed on his feet,  
To look no higher than his misery,  
Thinking him more calamity did greet,  
Or that I had supposed him some Spy,  
With a deep sigh that from his heart he drew,  
Quoth he his will accomplished be by you.   

My man departed and the message done,  
He whose sad heart with strange impressions struck,  
To think upon this accident begun,  
And on himself suspiciously to look,  
Into all doubts he fearfully doth run,  
Oft himself cheering oft himself forsook:  
Strangely perplexed unto my house doth come,  
Not knowing why judged nor dreading yet his doom.   

My servants set his coming to attend,  
That were therein not common for their skill,  
Whose usage yet the former did amend:  
He hoped not good, nor guilty was of ill,  
But as a man whose thoughts were at an end,  
Fortune (quoth he) then work on me thy will,  
Wiser than man I think he were that knew  
Whence this may come, or what thereof ensue.   

His honoured presence so did me inflame,  
That though being then in presence of my Peers,  
Deign not the less to meet him as he came,  
(That very hardly could contain my tears)  
Kindly salute him, call him by his name,  
And oft together ask him how he cheers,  
With still along maintaining the extreme;  
Yet thought the man he had been in a dream.   

At length t'wake him gently I began  
With this demand, if once he did not know  
One Thomas Cromwell a poor Englishman,  
By him relieved when he was driven low:  
When I perceived he my remembrance wan,  
Yet with his tears it silently did show:  
I wept for woe to see mine host distressed,  
But he for joy to see his happy guest.   

Him to the Lords I published by my praise,  
And at my table carefully him set,  
Recounting them the many sundry ways  
I was unto this gentleman indebt,  
How great he was in Florence in those days,  
With all that grace or reverence him might get:  
Which all the while yet silently he hears,  
Moisting (among) his viands with his tears.   

And to lend fullness lastly to his fate  
Great sums I gave him, and what was his due  
Made known, myself became his advocate,  
And at my charge his creditors I sue,  
Recovering him unto his former state:  
Thus he the world began by me anew,  
That shall to all posterity express  
His honoured bounty and my thankfulness.   

But Muse recount, before thou further pass,  
How this great change so quickly came about,  
And what the cause of this sad downfall was,  
In every part the spacious Realm throughout,  
Being effected in so little space,  
Leave not thereof posterity to doubt,  
That with the world obscured else may be,  
If in this place revealed not by thee.   

If the whole land did on the Church rely,  
Having full power Kings to account to call,  
That to the world read only policy,  
Besides heavens keys to stop or let in all,  
Let me but know from her supremacy  
How she should come so suddenly to fall:  
'twas more than chance sure put a hand thereto,  
That had the power so great a thing to do.   

Or ought there were had biding under Sun,  
Who would have thought those edifices great,  
Which first Religion holily begun,  
The Church approved, and wisdom richly seat,  
Devotion nourished, faith allowance won,  
And all that them might any way complete,  
Should in their ruins lastly buried lie,  
But that begun and ended from the sky?   

And the King late obedient to her laws,  
Against the Clerk of Germany had writ,  
As he that first stirred in the Church's cause,  
Against him greatliest that oppugned it,  
And won from her so grateful an applause,  
Then in her favour chiefly that did sit,  
That as the prop, whereon she only stai'th,  
Him she instyled Defender of the faith.   

But not their power, whose wisdoms them did place  
In the first rank, the oracles of state,  
Who that opinion strongly did embrace,  
Which through the land received was of late,  
Then ought at all prevailed in this case,  
O powerful doom of unavoided fate,  
Whose depth not weak mortality can know,  
Who can uphold what heaven will overthrow?   

When time now universally did show  
The power to her peculiarly annexed,  
With most abundance then when she did flow,  
Yet every hour still prosperously she waxed,  
But the world poor did by loose riots grow,  
Which served as an excellent pretext,  
And colour gave to pluck her from her pride,  
Whose only greatness suffered none beside.   

Likewise to that posterity did doubt  
Those at the first not rightly did adore,  
Their fathers that too credulous devout  
Unto the Church contributed their store,  
And to recover only went about  
What their great zeal had lavished before,  
On her a strong hand violently laid,  
Praying on that, they gave for to be prayed.   

And now the King set in a course so right,  
Which I for him laboriously had tract,  
(Who till I learned him, did not know his might)  
I still to prompt his power with me to act,  
Into those secrets got so deep a sight,  
That nothing last to his furtherance lacked,  
And by example plainly to him shown,  
How all might now be easily overthrown.   

In taking down yet of this goodly frame  
He suddenly not brake off every band,  
But took the power first from the Papal name,  
After a while let the Religion stand,  
When limb by limb he daily did it lame,  
First took a leg, and after took a hand,  
Till the poor semblance of a body left,  
But all should stay it, utterly bereft.   

For if some Abbey happened void to fall  
By death of him that the superior was,  
Gain that did first Church liberty enthrall,  
Only supreme, promoted to the place,  
'mongst many bad the worst most times of all,  
Under the colour of some others grace,  
That by the slander, from his life should spring,  
Into contempt it more and more might bring.   

This time from heaven when by the secret course,  
Dissension universally began,  
(Prevailing as a planetary source)  
I'th' Church believing, as Mahumitan,  
When Luther first did those opinions nurse,  
Much from great Rome in little space that wan,  
It to this change so aptly did dispose,  
From whose sad ruin ours so great arose.   

That here that fabric utterly did fail,  
Which powerful fate had limited to time,  
By whose strong law it naturally must quail,  
From that proud height to which it long did climb,  
Letting 'gainst it the contrary prevail,  
Therein to punish some notorious crime,  
For which at length just dooming heaven decreed,  
That on her buildings ruin here should feed.   

Th'authority upon her she did take,  
And use thereof in every little thing,  
Finding herself how oft she did forsake,  
In her own bounds her never limiting,  
That awful fear and due obedience broke  
Which her reputed holiness did bring,  
From slight regard soon brought her into hate  
With those that much disliked her estate.   

And that those parts she cunningly had played,  
Belief unto her miracles to win,  
Unto the world were every day bewrayed,  
From which the doubt did of her power begin,  
Damnation yet to question what she said  
Made most suspect the faith they had been in,  
When their salvation easily might be bought,  
Found not this yet the way that they had sought.   

When those ill humours ripened to a head,  
Bred by the rankness of the plenteous land,  
And they not only strangely from her fled,  
Bound for her ancient liberty to stand,  
But what their fathers gave her being dead,  
The sons raped from her with a violent hand,  
And those her buildings most of all abused,  
That with the weight their father's coffins bruised.   

The wisest and most provident but build,  
For time again to wastefully destroy,  
The costly piles and monuments we gild,  
Succeeding time shall reckon but a toy,  
Vicissitude impartially wild,  
The goodliest things be subject to annoy,  
And what one age did studiously maintain,  
The next again accounteth vile and vain.   

Yet time doth tell, in some things they did err,  
That put their help her bravery to deface,  
When as the wealth, that taken was from her,  
Others soon raised, that did them displace,  
Their titles and their offices confer  
On such before, as were obscure and base,  
Who would with her they likewise down should go,  
And o'rthrew them that her did overthrow.   

And th'Romish rites that with a clearer sight  
The wisest thought they justly did reject,  
They after saw that the received light  
Not altogether free was from defect,  
Mysterious things being not conceived right,  
There of bred in the ignorant neglect,  
For in opinion something short doth fall,  
Wants there hath been and shall be still in all.   

But negligent security and ease  
Unbridled sensuality begat,  
That only sought his appetite to please,  
As in the midst it of abundance sat,  
The Church not willing others should her praise  
That she was lean, when as her lands were fat,  
Herself to too much liberty did give,  
Which some perceived that in those times did live.   

Pierce the wise Ploughman in his vision saw  
Conscience sore hurt, yet sorer was afraid  
The seven great sins to hell him like to draw,  
And to wise Clergy mainly cried for aid;  
Fallen ere he wist (whom peril much did awe)  
On unclean Priests whilst faintly he him stayed,  
Willing good Clergy t'ease his wretched case,  
Whom these strong Giants hotly had in chase.   

Clergy called Friars which near at hand did dwell,  
And them requests to take in hand the cure,  
But for their Leechcraft that they could not well,  
He listed not their dressing to endure,  
When in his ear Need softly him did tell  
(And of his knowledge more did him assure)  
They came for gain their end which they did make,  
For which on them the charge of souls they take.   

And voluntary poverty professed,  
By food of Angels seeming as to live;  
But yet with them th'accounted were the best  
That most to their fraternity do give,  
And beyond number that they were increased:  
If so (quoth Conscience) thee may I believe,  
Then 'tis in vain more on them to bestow,  
If beyond number like they be to grow.   

The Friar soon feeling Conscience had him found,  
And hearing how Hypocrisy did thrive,  
That many Teachers every where did wound,  
For which Contrition miserably did grieve:  
Now in deceit to show himself profound,  
His former hopes yet last to revive  
Gets the Pope's letters, whereof he doth shape  
Him a disguise from Conscience to escape.   

And so towards goodly Unity he goes,  
A strong-built Castle standing very high,  
Where Conscience lived to keep him from his foes,  
Whom lest some watchful Sentinel should spy,  
And him unto the garrison disclose,  
His cowl about him carefully doth tie,  
Creeps to the gate and closely thereat beat,  
As one that entrance gladly would entreat.   

Peace the good porter ready still at hand  
It doth unpin, and prays him God to save,  
And after salving kindly doth demand  
What was his will, or who he there would have?  
The Friar low lowting crossing with his hand,  
Speak with Contrition (quoth he) I would crave.  
Father (quoth Peace) your coming is in vain,  
For him of late Hypocrisy hath slain.   

God shield (quoth he) and turning up the eyes,  
To former health I hope him to restore,  
For in my skill his sound recovery lies,  
Doubt not thereof if setting God before.  
Are you a Surgeon, Peace again replies?  
Yea (quoth the Friar) and sent to heal his sore:  
Come near (quoth Peace) and God your coming speed,  
Never of help Contrition had more need.   

And for more haste he haileth in the Friar,  
And his Lord Conscience quickly of him told,  
Who entertained him with right friendly cheer:  
O Sir (quoth he) entreat you that I could  
To lend your hand unto my Cousin dear  
Contrition, whom a sore disease doth hold,  
That wounded by Hypocrisy of late,  
Now lieth in most desperate estate.   

Sir (quoth the Friar) I hope him soon to cure,  
Which to your comfort quickly you shall see,  
Will he a while my dressing but endure;  
And to Contrition therewith cometh he,  
And by fair speech himself of him assure,  
But first of all going through for his fee:  
Which done (quoth he) if outwardly you show  
Sound, t'not avails if inwardly or no.   

But secretly assoiling of his sin,  
No other medicine will unto him lay,  
Saying that heaven his silver him should win,  
And to give Friars was better than to pray,  
So he were shrived what need he care a pin.  
Thus with his patient he so long did play,  
Until Contrition had forgot to weep,  
This the wise Ploughman show'd me from his sleep.   

He saw their faults that loosely lived then,  
Others again our weaknesses shall see:  
For this is sure he bideth not with men  
That shall know all to be what they should be:  
Yet let the faithful and industrious pen  
Have the due merit; but return to me,  
Whose fall this while blind fortune did devise,  
To be as strange as strangely I did rise.   

Those secret foes yet subtly to deceive,  
That me maligning lifted at my state,  
The King to marry forward still I heave,  
(His former wife being repudiate)  
To Anne the sister of the Duke of Cleave,  
The Germane Princes to confederate,  
To back me still 'gainst those against me lay,  
Which as their own retained me here in pay.   

Which my destruction principally wrought,  
When afterward abandoning her bed,  
Which to his will to pass could not be brought,  
So long as yet I bear about my head  
The only man her safety that had sought,  
Of her again and only favoured,  
Which was the cause he hasted to my end,  
Upon whose fall hers likewise did depend.   

For in his high distemperature of blood  
Who was so great whose life he did regard?  
Or what was it that his desires withstood  
He not invested were it near so hard?  
Nor held he me so absolutely good,  
That though I crossed him yet I should be spared,  
But with those things I lastly was to go,  
Which he to ground did violently throw.   

When Winchester with all those enemies  
Whom my much power from audience had debarred,  
The longer time there mischiefs to devise,  
Feeling with me how lastly now it fared,  
When I had done the King that did suffice,  
Lastly thrust in against me to be heard,  
When all was ill contrarily turned good,  
Making a main to th'shed of my blood.   

And that the King his action doth deny,  
And on my guilt doth altogether lay,  
Having his riot satisfied thereby,  
Seems not to know how I therein did sway,  
What late was truth converted heresy:  
When he in me had purchased his prey,  
Himself to clear and satisfy the sin,  
Leaves me but late his instrument therein.   

Those laws I made myself alone to please,  
To give me power more freely to my will,  
Even to my equals hurtful sundry ways,  
(Forced to things that most do say were ill)  
Upon me now as violently cease,  
By which I lastly perished by my skill,  
On mine own neck returning (as my due)  
That heavy yoke wherein by me they drew.   

My greatness threatened by ill-boding eyes,  
My actions strangely censured of all,  
Yet in my way my giddiness not sees  
The pit wherein I likely was to fall:  
O were the sweets of man's felicities  
Often amongst not tempered with some gall,  
He would forget by his oreweening skill,  
Just heaven above doth censure good and ill.   

Things over rank do never kindly bear,  
As in the corn the fluxure when we see  
Fill but the straw when it should feed the ear,  
Rotting that time in ripening it should be,  
And being once down itself can never rear:  
With us well doth this simile agree,  
(By the wise man) due to the great in all,  
By their own weight b'ing broken in their fall.   

Self-loving man what sooner doth abuse,  
And more than his prosperity doth wound?  
Into the deep but fall how can he choose  
That over strides whereon his foot to ground?  
Who sparingly prosperity doth use,  
And to himself doth after-ill propound,  
Unto his height who happily doth climb,  
Sits above fortune, and controlleth time.   

Not choosing that us most delight doth bring,  
And most that by the general breath is freed,  
Wooing that suffrage, but the virtuous thing  
Which in itself is excellent indeed,  
Of which the depth and perfect managing  
Amongst the most, but few there be that heed,  
Affecting that agreeing with their blood,  
Seldom enduring never yet was good.   

But whilst we strive too suddenly to rise  
By flattering Princes with a servile tongue,  
And being soothers to their tyrannies,  
Work our more woes by what doth many wrong,  
And unto others tending injuries,  
Unto ourselves it happeneth oft among  
In our own snares unluckily are caught,  
Whilst our attempts fall instantly to nought.   

The Counsel Chamber place of my arrest,  
Where chief I was, when greatest was the store,  
And had my speeches noted of the best,  
That did them as high Oracles adore:  
A Parliament was lastly my inquest,  
That was myself a Parliament before,  
The Tower hill scaffold last I did ascend:  
Thus the great'st man of England made his end.   
FINIS.