Ucjmitte. 
 
 GEORGE GASCOIGNE, Esquire. 
 
 i. Certayne Notes of Inflruftion in Englifh Verfe. 
 
 '575- 
 
 2. The Steele Glas. 
 
 [Commenced April 1^75. Finished April 1^76.] 
 April 1576. 
 
 3. The Complaynt of Philomene, 
 
 [Commenced Apr. 1562. Continued in Apr. 1575. Finished 3 Apr. 1576.] 
 April 1576. 
 
 PRECEDED BY 
 
 GEORGE WHETSTONE'S 
 
 A Remembrance of the well imployed Life, and 
 
 godly end of George Gafcoigne Efquire, &c. 
 
 [Ent. Stat. Hall, u Nov. 1577.] 
 
 CAREFULLY EDITED BY 
 
 E D W A R D A R B E R. 
 
 Affociate, King's College, London, F.R.G.S., &>c. 
 LARGE PAPER EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 5, QUEEX SQUARE. RI.OOMSBUKY. V 
 
 Ent Stat. Hall.} I October, 1869. {All Rights referred.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CH RONICLE of the Life, Works, and Times of G. Gafcoigne 3 
 
 INTRODUCTION, n 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY, 14 
 
 ffieorge KSEfjetstotw. 
 
 A REMEMBRANCE &>c. OF G. GASKOIGNE, 6-v. 15 
 
 (1) The wel employed life, and godly end of G. Gafcoigne, 
 
 Efq 17 
 
 (2) Exhortatio 27 
 
 (3) An Epitaph, written by G. W. of the death of M. G. 
 Gafltoygne ... ..... 29 
 
 ffieorge (Sascoigne. 
 CERTAYNE NOTES OF INSTRUCTION 
 
 IN ENGLISH VERSE, 6v. . .31 
 
 THE STEELE GLAS ... 41 
 
 (1) The Epiftle Dedicatorie [15 April. 1576] . . 42 
 
 (2) N. R. in commendation of the Author, and his works 46 
 
 (3) Walter [afterwards Sir Walter] Raleigh, of the Middle 
 Temple, in commendation of The Steele Glas . . 47 
 
 (4) Nicholas Bowyer in commendation of this work . 47 
 
 (5) The Author to the Reader 48 
 
 (6) THE STEELE GLAS 49 
 
 (7) Epilogus 82 
 
 THE COMPLA YNT OF PHILOMENE . 85 
 
 (8) The Epiftle Dedicatorie [16 April. 1575] . . 86 
 
 (9) PHILOMENE 87 
 
 (10) The Fable of Philomela 91
 
 CHRONICLE 
 
 (to be taken in connection with Whetstone's Retnentbtaunce, at //. 15-10) 
 
 of 
 
 fome of the principal events 
 in the 
 
 LIFE, WORKS, and TIMES 
 
 of 
 
 GEORGE GASCOIGNE Efquire, 
 Courtier, Soldier, Poet. 
 
 * Probable or approximate dates. 
 1509. 3pr. 22. JRenrp Vlll. begins to reign. 
 
 1535-37. GEORGE GASCOIGNE was the son and heir of Sir J. 
 Gascoigne, p. 18. The date or place of his birth is not 
 known. If it might be safely assumed that he was some- 
 what over 20 years of age when he entered Gray's Inn in 
 1555, that would confirm the otherwise unsupported state- 
 ment, that he was only 40 years when he died. 
 
 Gascoigne himself tells Queen Elizabeth [see 1576] that 
 he had ' Suche Englisheas I stale inwestmerland.' From 
 which it is inferred he was either born or bred in that 
 county. 
 
 1547- 3an. 29- BtoarB Ff ascenDs tt)t ttrone. 
 
 He goes to Cambridge. ' Such lattyn as I forgntt at 
 Cambridge,' [see 1576] 
 
 Pray for the nources of our noble Realme 
 I meane the worthy Vniuersitities, 
 (And Cantabridge, shal haue the dignitie, 
 Whereof I was vnworthy member once) p. 77. 
 
 1553. 3ulp 6. fHarp surcccDs to tflc tijrone. 
 
 Harl. M.S. 1911, is a nominal index of the Registers 
 of all 'Admittances,' ' Ancients,' and ' Barresters' in the 
 Society of Gray's Inn, down to 1671 ; together with a digest 
 of such orders of the society which were looked upon as 
 precedents. In the i6th century, four gentlemen of the 
 name of Gascoigne were admitted into the society. John 
 in 1536 [admitted to ye degree of Ancient, 24 May 1552 ; 
 fl- *95]. George in 155$, Edward in 1584, and John in 
 1500; fol. 33. None of these occur in the list of ' Bar- 
 resters.' 
 
 1555. George Gascoigne admitted to Grays Inn. 43 ad- 
 
 mitted in the same year. Harl. MS. i<)\i,fol. 33. 
 
 1557. May 24. Among the names of 'Ancients' called on 24 May, 
 1557, is that of 'Gascoine,' Idem, fol. 204. 
 
 1558. Xod. 17. "tloatctt begins to reign. 
 
 'The lost time of my youth mispent,'/. 42. ' Disin- 
 herited, 'p. \T. 
 
 1562. Apr. Gascoigne begins 'todeuise' The Complaint of Philo- 
 
 tnene 'riding by the high way betwene Chelmisford and 
 London, and being ouertaken with a sodaine dash of 
 Raine, I changed my copy, and stroke ouer into the De- 
 profundis which is placed amongst my other Poesies, 
 leuing the complaint of Phylomeiu vnfinished. 'pp. 86, 1 19. 
 In T lie introduction to tlie PsalnteoJ ' Depra/iiniiis which
 
 CHRONICLE, 
 
 with the Psalm itself, is included in Gascoigne's Flowers, 
 
 are the following lines. 
 
 The Skies gan scowle, orecast with misty clowdes, 
 When (as I rode alone by London waye, 
 Cloakelesse, vnclad) thus did I sing and say : 
 
 Why doe not I my wery muses frame 
 (Although I bee well soused in this showre,) 
 To write some verse in honour of his name? 
 Among the precedential orders relating to ' Ancients,' 
 at the end of Harl. M.S. 1912, is the following. 
 
 (1555 Mr. Barkinge, Mr. Brand, Geo. Gascoigne, Tho 
 1561 Michelborne, and William Clopton beinge called 
 1 565 Ancients as of ye former Call paid their respectiue 
 1567 fines for their Vacacions past to compleate ye num- 
 1624 berof nine Vacacions of ye said former ca\\,fol. 238. 
 5 . Gascoigne pays the above fines. In his Flowers, are 
 
 Gascoignes Memories, written vpon this occasion. Hee 
 had (in myddest of his youth) determined to abandon? 
 all vaine delights and to returne vnto Greyes Inne, there 
 to vndertake againe the studdie of the common Lawes. 
 And being required by fiue sundry Gentlemen to write in 
 verse somewhat worthye to bee remembred before he en- 
 tered into their fellowshippe, hee compiled these hue 
 sundrie sortes of metre vppon fiue sundrye theames. 
 which they deliuered vnto him, and the first was at request 
 of Frauncis Kinwelmarshe who deliuered him this theame. 
 
 Audaces fortuna inuat The next was at request 
 
 of Antony Kinwelmarshe, who deliuered him this theame, 
 
 Satis sjifficit John Vaughan deliuered him this 
 
 theame. Magnum "vectigal parcimonia Alexan- 
 der Neuile deliuered him this theame, Sat cito. si sat 
 bene, wherevpon he compiled these seuen Sonets in se- 
 quence, therein bewraying his owne Nimis cito : and 
 
 therwith his Vix bene Richard Courtope (the last 
 
 <! of the fiue) gaue him this theame Durum ceneum et 
 
 miserabile ceuum And thus an ende of these fiue 
 
 Theames, admounting to the number of. CCLVIII. verses, 
 deuised ryding by the way, writing none of them vntill 
 he came at the ende of his lourney, the which was no 
 longer than one day in ryding, one daye, in tarying with 
 his friend, and the thirde in returning to Greyes Inne : 
 and therefore called Gascoigne's memories. Posies, 1575. 
 55. Apr. 26. Date of his dedication of ' The Glasse of Gouern- 
 ment. A tragical! Comedie," first printed in 1576. 'A 
 piece in a dramatic form, the body of which is in prose, 
 although it has four choruses and an epilogue in rhyme, 
 besides two didactic poems in the third act.' Collier, 
 Hist. Dram. Poet. iii. 7. 
 1566. Two plays are represented at Gray's Inn in this year. 
 
 (1) The Supposes translated by Gascoigne from Ario- 
 sto's Gli Suppositi, Venice, 1525 the earliest 'existing 
 specimen of a play in English prose acted, either in pub- 
 lic or private.' Collier, Hist. Dram. Poet. iii. 6. 
 
 (2) Jocasta adapted from the Pkenissoe of Euripides 
 'the second dramatic performance in our language in 
 blank verse, and the first known attempt to introduce a 
 Greek play upon the English stage." Collier, Idem. p. 8. Gas- 
 coigne contributes Acts ii, iii, v. ; F. Kinwelmarsh, Acts 
 i. and iv. ; and C., afterwards Sir C., Yelverton, the Epi- 
 logue. Each Act was preceded by a dumb show. The 
 Autograph copy of this play is in the Guilford MS. 
 
 In this year also was published The French Littleton.
 
 CHRONICLE. 5 
 
 Neyvly set forth by C. Holiband [i.e. Desainliensl, teach 
 ing in Paules Church yarde, by the signe of the Lucrece 
 London, 1566." At the beginning is what is apparently" 
 Gascoigne's fanX.pvbKsk*d verse, 
 
 George Gascoigne Squire in commendation of this booke. 
 The pearle of price, whicn englishmen haue sought 
 So farre abrode, and cost them there so dere 
 Is now founde out, within our contrey here 
 And better cheape, amongst vs may be bought 
 I meane the frenche : that pearle of pleasant speeche 
 Which some sought far, and bought it with their lines 
 With sickenesse some, yea some with bolts and gyues 
 But all with payne, this peerlesse pearle did seeche. 
 Now Hollyband (A frendly frenche in deede) 
 Hath tane such payne, for euerie english ease 
 That here at home, we may this language learne : 
 And for the price, he craueth no more neede 
 Hut thankful harts, to whome his perles msy please 
 Oh thank him then, that so much thank doth earne 
 
 Tain Marti qttam Mercurio 
 Marries. 
 
 Goes a journey into the West of England. 
 Gascoigne's Woodmanskip Written to the L. Grey of 
 Wilton vpon this occasion, the sayd L. Grey delighting 
 (amongst many other good quailities) in chusing of his 
 winter deare, and killing the same with his bovve, did 
 furnishe master Gascoigne with a croisebowe cunt Perti- 
 nencijs and vouchsafed to vse his company in the said 
 exercise, calling him one of his wodmen. Now master 
 Gascoigne shooting very often, could neuer hitte any 
 deare, yea and often times he let the heard passe by as 
 though he had not scene them. Whereat when this noble 
 Lord tooke some pastime, and had often put him in re- 
 membrance of his good skill in choosing, and readinesse 
 in killing of a winter deare, he thought good thus to excuse 
 it in verse. [This poem was published in 1572.] 
 
 Is published Gascoigne's first book, A Hundreth sttn- 
 drie Floitres bound up in one small Poesie : respecting 
 which he afterwards says. " It is verie neare two yeares 
 past, since (I being in Hollande in seruice with the ver- 
 tuous Prince of Orange) the most part of these Posies 
 were imprinted. ... I neuer receyued of Printer, or 
 of anye other, one grote or pennie for the firste Copyes of 
 these Posies. True it is that I was not vn villinge the same 
 shoulde be imprinted : " for which he assign ; four reasons. 
 1st Pref. to 'Posies,' 1575. 
 
 In the dedication to Lord Grey of Wilton, of a poem 
 entitled The fruites of Warre, ' begon at Delfe in hol- 
 lande'; Gascoigne says, ' I am of opinion that long before 
 this time your honour hath throughly perused the booke, 
 which I prepared to bee sent vnto you somewhat before 
 my comming hyther, and therewithall I doe lykewise 
 coniectour that you haue founde therein iust cause to 
 to laugh at my follies forepassed. This first edition was 
 therefore prepared and anonymously published by its 
 author ; not surreptitiously by the printer as sometimes 
 supposed. 
 
 O. G. G[ilchrist] in Cens. Lit. i. no 112. Ed. 1805, has 
 gleaned from his works, the following account of Gas- 
 coigne's trip abroad. 
 
 ' He afterwards entered at Grays Inn for the purpose
 
 CHRONICLE. 
 
 of studying the law. The connexions which his situation 
 now procured him drew him to court, where he lived with 
 a splendour of expence to which his means were inade- 
 quate, and at length being obliged to sell his patrimony 
 (which it seems was unequal) to pay his debts, he left 
 the court and embarked on the igth of March, 1572, at 
 Gravesend ; the next day he reached the ship and em- 
 barked for the coast of Holland. The vessel was under 
 the guidance of a drunken Dutch pilot, who, from inex- 
 perience and intoxication, ran them aground, and they 
 were in imminent danger of perishing. Twenty of the 
 crew who had taken to the long boat were swallowed by 
 the surge ; but Gascoigne and his friends (Rowland) Yorke 
 and Herle resolutely remained at the pumps, and by the 
 wind shifting they were again driven to sea. At length 
 
 Per varies casus, pet tot discrimina reriuii, 
 they landed in Holland, where Gascoigne obtained a cap- 
 tain's commission, under the gallant William Prince of 
 Orange, who was then (successfully) endeavouring to 
 emancipate the Netherlands from the Spanish yoke. In 
 this service he acquired considerable military reputation, 
 but an unfortunate quarrel with his colonel retarded his 
 Q career. Conscious of his deserts he repaired immediately 
 
 to Delf, resolved to resign his commission to the hands 
 
 from which he received it; the Prince in vain endeavour- 
 ing to close the breach between his officers. 
 
 While this negociation was mediating, a circumstance 
 occurred which had nearly cost our poet his life. A lady 
 at the Hague (then in the possession of the enemy) with 
 whom Gascoigne had been on intimate terms, had his 
 portrait in her hands (his "counterfayt," as he calls it), 
 and resolving to part with it to himself alone, wrote a 
 ._. letter to him on the subject, which fell into the hands of 
 
 his enemies in the camp ; from this paper they meant to 
 
 have raised a report unfavourable to his loyalty ; but upon 
 its reaching his hands Gascoigne, conscious of his fidelity, 
 laid it immediately before the prince, who saw through 
 their design, and gave him passports for visiting the lady 
 at the Hague: the burghers, however, watched his :r.o- 
 tions with malicious caution, and he was called in derision 
 "The Green Knight." Although disgusted with the in- 
 gratitude of those on whose side he fought, Gascoigne 
 still retained his commission, till the prince, coming per- 
 sonally to the siege of Middleburg, gave him an opportu- 
 nity of displaying his zeal and courage, when the prince 
 rewarded him with 300 guilders beyond his regular pay, 
 and a promise of future promotion. He was (however) 
 surprized soon after by 3000 Spaniards when commanding, 
 under Captain Sheffield, SOD Englishmen lately landed, 
 and retired in good order, at night, under the walls of 
 Leyden ; the jealousy of the Dutch then openly was dis- 
 
 Elayed by their refusing to open their gates ; our military 
 ard with his band were in consequence made captives. 
 At the expiration of twelve days his men were released, 
 and the officers, after an imprisonment of four months, 
 were sent back to England." 
 
 t575. Feb. He published ' The Posies of George Gascoigne, Esquire, 
 
 Corrected, perfected, and augmented by the Author," 
 [ ist Dedication dated 'last day of lanuarie' 1574-5 : 2 nd 
 Dedication dated Jan. 2.] It consists of 3 prefaces ; 
 and 4 parts, FLOWERS, HER BS, WEEDS, and the NOTES 
 OF INSTRUCTION. In the second preface, he thus explains 
 the three principal divisions. "I haue here presented you
 
 CHRONICLE. 1 
 
 with three sundrie sorts of Posies : Floures, Herbes and 
 Weedes. ... I terme some Floures, bycause being 
 indeed inuented vpon a verie light occasion, they haue 
 yet in them (in my iudgement) some rare muention and 
 Methode before not commonly vsed. And therefore 
 (beeing more pleasant then profitable) I haue named them 
 Floures. The seconde (being indeede moral discourses and 
 reformed inuentions, and therefore more profitable then 
 pleasant)! haue named Hearbes. Thethird ; being Weedcs, 
 might seeme to some iudgements neither pleasant nor yet 
 profitable, and therefore meete to bee cast itwaie But as ma- 
 nic weedes are right medicinable, so you may finde in this 
 none so vile, or stinking, but that it hath in it some vertueif it 
 be rightly handled." He thus concludes the third To the 
 Reader."\ pray thee to smell vnto these Posies. asJ-'/oures to 
 comfort, Herbes to r>r,and Weedes tobeauoyded. So have! 
 merit them, and so I beseech thee Reader to accept them. " 
 
 1575. April. Gascoigne begins The Steele Glas : and continues a 
 
 little further The Complaint of Philomene, pp. 86, 119. 
 l$75- The Noble Arte of Vcnerie or Hvnting is published 
 
 ' The Translator [George Turberville] to the Reader' is 
 dated 16 June 1575. After which comes a poem of 58 lines 
 George Ga*coigne, in the commendation of the noble Arte 
 of yenerie. This work is generally attached to Turber- 
 ville's The Booke of faulconrie or Hawking. 
 
 In her summer progress, the Queen makes her famous 
 \isit to Kenilworth. 
 
 ^- July 9-27. Leicester commissioned Gascoigne to devise masks &c.for 
 her entertainment. These were printed the next year under 
 the title of The Princelye pleasures, at the Conrteat Kenel- 
 viorth;z.n& with R.Laneham or Lang ham's published.Z,^ter 
 ofdatepf2o Aug. 1575: constitute the best accounts of that 
 splendid reception. 
 Sept n. TheQueencontinuingherprogress.arrivesatWoodstock, 
 and is greeted with Gascoigne's ThetaltofHemetes. 
 
 1576. Jan. i. He presents, as a Kew Year's gift, to Queen Elizabeth, 
 
 and apparently in his own handwriting the manuscript of 
 The tale of Hemetes the hermyte pronounced before the 
 Queenes Maiesty att Woodstocke. This is now in the 
 British Museum. MS. Reg. iS.A. xlviiii,p. 27. The fron- 
 tispage is a finished drawing representing the presentation 
 of his work. Then comes,in English verse, the Dedication, 
 I p : after which is an English address 'to the Queenes most 
 excellent Majestye ; 8 pp. Then follows the tale in four 
 languages. English, g//; Latin, \t,fp; Italian \t,pp; 
 French IB// ; concluding the whole with Epilogismus, \p. 
 In his address at fol. 6 of the book, he says, ' But 
 yet suche Itallyan as I haue learned in London, and such 
 lattyn as I forgatt att Cambridge, such frenche as I bor- 
 rowed in Holland, and such Englyshe as I stale in west- 
 
 , - 
 
 merland, even such and no better (my worthy soueraignc 
 haue I poured forth before you,' &c 
 
 He finishes T lie Complaint of Philomene. p. 119. Ap- 
 parently in the same month, he finishes The Steele Glas, the 
 dedication of which is dated Apr. 15. 
 
 In an Epistle dated 'From my lodging, where I march 
 amongst the Muses for lacke of exercise in martial ex 
 
 reveals his relationship to Sir Martin Frobisher: 
 
 You must herewith vnderstand (good Reader) that the 
 author hauinge a worshipfull Knight to his brother, who 
 abashed at this enterprise (aswell for that he himsclfe had
 
 CHRONICLE. 
 
 none issue, nor other heier whome he ment to bestow his 
 lands vpon, but onely this Authour, and that this voyage 
 the seemed strang and had not beene commonly spoken 
 before, as also because it seemed vnpossible vnto the com- 
 mon capacities) did seeme partly to mislike his resolu- 
 tions, and to disuade him from the same : there-upon he 
 wrote this Treatise vnto his saide Brother, both to excuse 
 and cleare himselfe from the note of rashnesse, and also 
 to set downe such Authorities, reasons, and experiences, 
 as had chiefly encouraged him vnto the same, as may 
 appeare by the letter next following, the which I haue 
 here inserted for that purpose. And this was done about 
 vii. yeares now . past, sithence which time the originall 
 copies of the same haue lien by the authour as one rather 
 dreading to hazarde the Judgement of curious perusers 
 then greedie of glorie by hasty publication. 
 
 Now it happened that my selfe being ens (amongst 
 manie) beholding to the said S. Humfrey Gilbert for sun- 
 drie curtesies, did come to visit him in Winter last passed 
 at his house in Litnehowse, and beeing verie bolde to 
 demaunde of him howe he spente his time in this loytering 
 vacation from martiall stratagemes, he curteously tooke 
 me vp into his Studie, and there shewed me sundrie pro- 
 fitable and verie commendable exercises, which he had 
 perfected painefully with his owne penne : And amongst 
 the rest this present Discourse. The which as well 
 because it was not long, as also because I vnderstode 
 that M. Fourboiser (a kinsman of mine) did pretend to 
 trauaile in the same Discouerie, I craued at the said 
 6 1 . Humfreyes handes for two or three dayes to reade and 
 to peruse. And hee verie friendly granted my request, 
 but stil seming to doubt that therby the same might, con- 
 trarie to his former determination be Imprinted. 
 
 And to be plaine, when I had at good leasure perused 
 it, and therwithall conferred his allegations by the Tables 
 of Orteliits, and by sundrie other Cosmojrraphica.il 
 Mappes and Charts, I seemed in my simple ludgement 
 not onely to like it singularly, but also thought it very 
 meete (as the present occasion serueth) to giue it out in 
 publike. Whereupon I haue (as you see) caused my 
 friendes great trauaile, and mine owne greater presump- 
 tion to be registred in print. [For which act, he offers 
 five excuses.] 
 
 In a dedication to the Francis, second Earl of Bedfordfb. 
 1528 d. 1585], dated, ' From my lodging where I finished 
 this trauvayle in weake plight for health as your good L. 
 1576. May 2. well knoweth, this second day of Maye 1576,' Gascoigue 
 writes, 
 
 (Not manye monethes fince) tossing and retossinginmy 
 small Lybarie, amongest some bookes which h; d not 
 J! often felte my fyngers endes in. xv yeares before, I 
 
 chaunced to light vpon a small volume ska r ce comely 
 couered, and wel worse handled. For to tell a truth 
 vnto your honour, it was written in an old kynd of Ca- 
 <5> racters, and so torne as it neyther had the beginning per- 
 
 spycuous, nor the end perfect. So that I cannot ceitaynly 
 say who shuld be the Author of the same. And there- 
 vpon haue translated and collected into some ordre these 
 sundry parcells of the same The whiche .... I haue 
 thought meete to entytle The Droome of Doomes daye. 
 t The work is divided into three parts, The view of world- 
 Vanities, The shame of sinne, The Needels eye. ] Vnto 
 " ree parts thus collected and ordrcd I haue thought 
 
 ly Vaniti 
 these thre
 
 CHRONICLE. 9 
 
 good toadde an old letter which teacheth Remedies against 
 the bitterness of Death." 
 
 [The unknown Latin work thus Englished by Gascoigne, 
 was De miseria humaniz conditionis of Lothario Conti, 
 Pope Innocent III. [b. 1160 d. 16 July, 1216], which 
 appeared in print so early as 1470, and was frequently 
 reprinted.] 
 
 " While this worke was in the presse, it pleased God to 
 visit the translatour thereof with sicknesse. So that being 
 vnable himselfe to attend the dayly proofes, he apoynted 
 a seruant of his to ouersee the same." Printer to the 
 Reader. 
 
 1576. Aug. 22. He publishes A delicate Diet for daintie mouthde 
 
 Droonkards. 
 
 1577. Jan. i. He presents the Queen with another poem, which is 
 
 now in the British Museum Reg. MS. 18 A. Ixi. p. 275. 
 ' The Grief of loy. Certayne Elegies : wherein the doubt- 
 full delightes of mannes lyfe are displaied.' It is on 38 
 folios, 410 : each full page having three stanzas of 7 lines 
 each. The royal titles and name are throughout written 
 iii gold. From the following portion of the dedication, it 
 would appear that at this date he was in some way in the 
 Queen's service. 
 
 "Towching the Methode and Inuention, euen as Pe- 
 trark in his woorkes De remedy s vtt iusquefortuntz, dothe 
 recowmpt the vncerteine loyes of men in seuerall dia- 
 logues, so haue I in these Elegies distributed the same 
 into sundrie songes and haue hetherto perfected but foure 
 of the first, the which I humbly commend vnto your 
 noble sensure and gracious correction And therewithall 
 I proffer in like manner that if your Maiestie shall lyke 
 the woorke, and deeme yt worthy of publication I will 
 then shrinke for no paynes vntill I haue (in suche songs) 
 touched all the common places of mans perylous pleasures. 
 
 But withowt the confirmation of your fauorable accep- 
 tanns (your Maiestie well knoweth) I will neuer presume 
 to publishe any thing hereafter, and that being well con- 
 sidered (compared also withe the vnspeakeable comfort 
 which I haue conceiued in your Maiesties vndeserued 
 fauor) may sufficientlie witnes without further triall, that 
 doubtful greeues and greuous doubles, do often accom- 
 pany oure greattest ioyes. 
 
 Howsoeuer it be, I right humbly beseeche youre heigh- 
 
 nes to accept this Nifle for a new yeares gyfte 
 
 Whome God preserue thes first of January, 1577, and 
 euer. Amen." 
 
 After this come The Preface ; then the I'enuoie; then 
 the four Songs, (i) The greeues or discommodities of 
 lustie youth; (2) The vanities of Beu'tie ; (3) The faults 
 offeree and. Strength ; (4) The vanities of Acliuityes ; 
 which terminates with 'Left vnperfect for feare of 
 Horsmen.' 
 
 77. Oct. 7. George Gascoigne dies at Stamford, see Whetstone's 
 Remembraunce. 
 
 O. G[ilchrist], in Cens. Lit. ii. 238, states, 'In order to 
 ascertain if George Gascoigne was buried at Wallham- 
 stow, I went purposely to search the parish register, and 
 found no entry anterior to 1650.' 
 
 Mr. Gilchrist also informed Dr. Bliss " I have searched 
 the registers of the six parishes for his interment without 
 success. The result is this: Geo. Whetstones had wealthy 
 relations, possessors of the manor of Walcot (four miles
 
 10 
 
 CHRONICLE. 
 
 distant from Stamford), which parishes to Bernack, where 
 the family of Whetstones usually buried and where a 
 monument of the Elizabethan style of architecture still 
 remains: and I'conjecture that Geo. Gascoigne dying at 
 Stamford was carried to Bernack by his friend Geo. Whet- 
 stones, . . . and interred there in the family vault. 
 I haue endeavoured to ascertain this, but no old register 
 of the parish of Bernack is to be found " Ath. Oxon. ii. 
 437. Ed. 1813. 
 
 The following criticisms were bestowed by contemporaries on our Author. 
 ] . WILLIAM WEBBE, in A Discourse of English Poetrie, writes. 
 
 Master George Gaskpyne a wytty Gentleman, and the very cheefe of our 
 late rymers, who and if some partes of learning wanted not (albeit is well 
 knowne he altogether wanted not learning) no doubt would haue attayned 
 to the excellencye of thoss famous Poets. For gyfts of wytt, and naturall 
 promptnes appeare in him abpundantly. Ed. 1815, /. 34. 
 
 2. GEORGE PUTTENHAM, in The Arte of Englishe Poesie, 1589, notices 
 ' Gascon for a good meeter and for a plentifull vayne.' Book i.p, 51. 
 
 3. THOMAS NASH in a prefatory address ' To the Gentlemen Students' in 
 R. Greene's Menaphon, 15*9, writes, 
 
 Who euer my priuate opinion condemns as faultie, Master Gascoigne 
 is not to bee abridged of his deserued esteeme, who first beat the path to 
 that perfection which our best Poets haue aspired too since his departure ; 
 whereto hee did ascend by comparing the Italian with the English, as Tuliy 
 uid Grffca cum Latini*
 
 THE STEELE GLAS, &c. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 NE of the principal poets in the firfl half 
 of Elizabeth's reign ; one of our earlieft 
 dramatifts ; the firfl Englifh fatirift ; and 
 the firfl Englifh critic in poefy: Gafcoigne 
 takes rank among the minor poets of 
 England. An Efquire by birth, but an Efquire in good 
 hap in life, he was alfo an Efquire in poetry. 
 
 No complete edition of his works has ever been 
 publifhed. Indeed copies of any of them, whether 
 original or reprinted, are not of frequent occurrence. 
 Still lefs are his character and career known. There 
 exist conuderable materials in the numerous perfonal 
 allufions in his works, in his praifeworthy habit of 
 frequently dating them, and in contemporary writers ; 
 towards a worthy account of himfelf and his affociates : 
 which, from their very early date in the Queen's reign, 
 and their connection with the then incipient flage of 
 our Drama ; could not fail to be new and interefling 
 to Englifh fludents. Meanwhile, to mofl readers, the 
 name of George Gafcoigne or of any of his productions, 
 are alike unknown. 
 
 In our attempt to make the prefent feries of works 
 reprefentative of Englifh Literature, we now prefent 
 three idiofyncratic fpecimens of Gafcoigne's powers, 
 as a poetical critic, as a fatirift, and as an elegifl. To 
 thefe we have prefixed accurately reprinted, it is to 
 be hoped, this time Whetftone's Remembrance of 
 his life and death : a book once thought to haveperifhed, 
 and of which but a fingle copy now exifts : that in 
 the Bodleian Library at Oxford. A confideration of 
 thefe four works in connection with his time, will 
 doubtlefs create a favourable opinion both of the 
 genius and character of George Gafcoigne.
 
 1 2 Introduction. 
 
 The earlieft portion of the publications here reprinted, 
 is the commencement of The Complaint of Philomene, 
 begun in April 1562, on a journey on horfeback from 
 Chelmsford to London : wherein 
 
 as I rode by London waye, 
 Cloakleffe, vnclad. 
 he was ' ouertaken with a fodaine dam of Raine,' and 
 
 well foufed in this fhowre. 
 
 he changed the fubject of his thought, and wrote the 
 Pfalm De Profundis, preferved in his Flowers. 
 
 The Notes of infli uflion &r., muft have been written 
 between 1572 the date of his poem to Lord Grey of 
 Wilton, entitled ' Gafcoigne's Voyage into Holland, An. 
 1572,' to which he alludes therein and 1575, when 
 he firft publifhed them in his Pofies. 
 
 His old poem lay by him till April 1575, when, 
 having juft feen through the prefs, the corrected edition 
 of his Pofies, he begins The Steele Gias ' with the Night- 
 ingales notes ' : and makes further progrefs in the Elegy. 
 
 Then comes abfence from home during the fummer, 
 in connection with great literary occupation. He is 
 away at Kenilworth devifmg The Princely pleafures : 
 and afterwards at Woodftock preparing The tale of 
 Hemetes the hermit. Then in the following winter, 
 he goes on a vifit to the unfortunate Sir Humphrey 
 Gilbert, ' at his houfe in Limehoufej and is in confe- 
 quence led into the fludy of the North-weft paffage 
 and ' the Tables of Ortelius and fundrie other Cofmo- 
 grapicall Mappes and Charts? So the two poems 
 progrefs together at intervals, and at laft are fimul- 
 taneoufly finimed in April 1576. 
 
 The author calls The Complaint, ' April mowers ' : 
 Both the Satire and the Elegy may be faid to be Spring 
 fongs. There refounds all through them the fmging of 
 birds. This difcovers itfelf as much in the general 
 imagery as in fuch paffages as this. 
 
 In fweet April, the Meffenger to May, 
 
 When hoonie drops, do melt in golden fhowres, 
 
 When euery byrde, records his louers lay,
 
 Introduction. 13 
 
 And weflerne windes, do fofter forth our floures, 
 
 Late in an euen, I walked out alone, 
 
 To heare the defcant of the Nightingale, 
 
 And as I floode, I heard hir make great moane, 
 
 Waymenting much p- 87. 
 
 In The Steele Glas however, Gafcoigne has a ferious 
 
 purpofe. As Whetftone reports. 
 
 (laboring fl.il, by paines, to purchafe praife) 
 I wrought a Glaffe, wherein eche man may fee : 
 Within his minde ; what canckred vices be. / 19. 
 It was a firft experiment in Englifh fatire ; and though 
 
 it does not fang like Diyden's Abfalom and Achitophel: 
 
 it is a vigorous effort in favour of truth, right, and juftice. 
 
 Its central thought and fancy are thus expreffed : 
 That age is deade, and vanifht long ago, 
 Which thought that fleele, both trufty was and true, 
 And needed not, a foyle of contraries, 
 But fhewde al things, euen as they were in deede. 
 In fteade whereof, our curious yeares can finde 
 The chriftal glas, which glimfeth braue and bright, 
 And fhewes the thing, much better than it is, 
 Beguylde with foyles, of fundry fubtil fights, 
 So that they feeme, and couet not to be. p- 54- 
 I haue prefumde, my Lord for to prefent 
 With this poore glaffe, which is of truftie Steele, 
 And came to me, by wil and teftament 
 Of one that was, a Glaffemaker in deede. 
 Lucylius, this worthy man was namde, 
 Who at his death, bequeathd the chriftal glaffe, 
 To fuch as loue, to feme but not to be, 
 And vnto thofe, that loue to fee themfelues, 
 How foule or fayre, foeuer that they are, 
 He gan bequeath, a glaffe of truftie Steele, 
 Wherein they may be bolde alwayes to looke, 
 Bycaufe it fhewes, all things in their degree. 
 And fince myfelfe (now pride of youth is pad) 
 Do loue to be, and let al feeming paffe, 
 Since I defire, to fee my felfe in deed, 
 Not what I would, but what I am or mould, 
 Therfore I like this truftie glaffe of Steele. // 55, 56.
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY. 
 
 GEORGE WHETSTONE. 
 
 A REMEMBRAUNCE OF THE WEL IMPLOYED LIFE &C. 
 
 (a) Issues in tf)e author's life time. 
 I. As a separate publication. 
 
 \. 1^77. London. Editio princeps : see title on opposite page. Edmond 
 i Vol. 410. Malone has inserted the following note in the only extant 
 copy, formerly his but now in the Bodleian. ' This piece 
 is of such rarity, that it was for near a century not sup- 
 posed to exist. No other copy is known. Bishop Tanner 
 had one ; but it has been long lost.' W. C. Hazlitt, in 
 Handbook, p. 650, Ed. 1867, states 'The history of this 
 book, of which it seems that only one copy has ever been 
 seen, is rather curious. It had been Bishop Tanner's, and 
 was formerly with his books at Oxford, but had been 
 missed for many years, when it occurred at the sale of Mr. 
 Voigt's [of the Custom House] books in 1806, and was 
 bought by Malone for ,42 IDS. 6d. With his library it 
 returned to its old resting place.' 
 
 (b) Issues since tf)e Sutlior's ftratfi. 
 
 II. With other works. 
 
 2. 1810. London. The Works of the EnglishPoets. Ed. by A. CHALMERS, 
 
 3i Vols. 8vo. F.S.A. A Remembraitnce &=c, occupies ii. 457-466. 
 I. As a separate publication. 
 
 3- 1815. Bristol. Whetstone's Metrical Life of Gascoigne. Only 10 
 
 i Vol. 410. copies printed : 53. each. 
 
 4- 1821. London. Gascoigne's Princely Pleasures, &c. With an intro- 
 
 i Vol. 8vo. ductory Memoir and notes. A Remeinbravnce occupies 
 pp. xx.-xxxviii. 
 
 5- 18 Nov. 1868. London, i Vol. 8vo. English Reprints: see title at p. i. 
 
 GEORGE GASCOIGNE. 
 
 CERTAYNE NOTES OF INSTRUCTION &c. 
 
 (a) Issues in (lie author's life time. 
 
 II. With otJifY works. 
 
 1. 1575- London. 'The Posies of George Gascoigne Esquire." The Notes 
 
 i Vol. 410. form the fourth and last section of the book : the other 
 three being Flouers, Hearbes, and Weedes. 
 
 .(6) Issues since t!>e Suitor's treati). 
 
 II. With other works. 
 2- 1587- London. 'The whole woorkes of George Gascoigne Esquyre.' 
 
 1 Vol. 410. The Notes are at the end, and have no pagination. 
 
 3. i8ij. London. Ancient Critical Essays upon English Poets and Poesy. 
 
 2 vols. 410. Ed. by J. HASLEWOOD. The Notes occupy ii. i 12. 
 
 4. 18 Nov. 1868. London, i vol. 8vo. ng-Iisk J?e#rits : see th\e &tp. i. 
 
 THE STEELE GLAS. and THE COMPLAYNT OF PHILOMENE. 
 (a) Issues in t{)e author's life time. 
 
 I. As a separate publication. 
 
 \. 1576. London, i vol. 410. Editio princeps : see the titles at pp. 41, 8$. 
 (6) Issues since tfje author's Bead). 
 
 II. With other works. 
 
 2. 1^87. London. ' The whole workes of George Gascoigne, Esquyre. ' 
 
 i vol. 4to. The two poems occupy nominally folios 287 351, but 
 actually folios 189 252. 
 
 3. 1808. [Bp. PERCY'S selection of] Poems in Blank Verse, (not 
 
 Dramatique) prior to Milton's Paradise Lost. \ Never 
 published : the impression all but four copies having been 
 burnt.] See Collier, Bibl. Cat. ii. 408. 
 
 4.1810. London. The Works of the English Poets. Ed. by A. CHALMERS, 
 21 vols. 8vo. F.S.A. The two poems occupy ii. 548 568. 
 
 5. 18 Nov. 1858. London, i vol. 8vo. English Reprints: see title at p. i.
 
 S?p2IO! 
 
 ^cw^^^^^^s^srvsniA^a 
 
 - - ,yy,V-Vy,K>/J{ .<>,*>. 
 
 **^'S&i&iSij? 
 
 1 8 ^ REMEMBRA VNCE |S 
 
 of llje tod implogeti life, anfc gotilg ent, of 
 
 A V.. j 
 
 George Gafkoigne Ef quire, who 
 
 fcccrnsSct) at Slalmforli in 3Lin= ! 
 
 i 
 
 colne ^fjire tfje 7. of O6lober. 
 
 i 
 
 1577- i 
 
 The reporte of Gear. Whet/Ions 
 @ent. an ege toitncs of fjfe 
 
 anti charitable 
 in tfjfe toorlti. 
 
 Formce nulla Fides. 
 
 IMPRINTED A T LON 
 
 toon for (EfctoartJ ^ggas, 
 in Pauks Cfjurcfjgart anU 
 are tfjere to tie 0oH>e.
 
 The wel imployed life, and godly end of 
 G. Gafcoigne, Efq. 
 
 |Nd is there none, wil help to tel my tale ! 
 
 who(ah)inhelth,athoufandplaintsnauefhone? 
 
 feeles all men joy? can no man fldl of bale? 
 
 o yes I fee, a comfort in my mone. 
 Help me good George, my life and death to touch 
 fome man for thee, may one day doo afmuch. 
 
 Thou feeft my death, and long my life didft knowe, 
 
 my life : nay death, to Hue I now begin : 
 
 But fome wil fay. Durus eft hie fenno, 
 
 Tis hard indeed, for fuch as feed on fin. 
 
 Yet truft me frends (though flefh doth hardly bow) 
 
 I am refolu'd, I neuer liu'd til now. 
 
 And on what caufe, in order fhall enfue, 
 My worldly life (is firft) muft play his parte : 
 Whofe tale attend, for once the fame is true, 
 Yea Whetlon thou, haft knowen my hidden hart 
 And therfore I coniure thee to defend : 
 (when I am dead) my life and godly end. 
 
 Firft of my life, which fome (amis) did knowe, 
 I leue mine armes, my acts (hall blafe the fame 
 Yet on a thorne, a Grape wil neuer growe, H C was 
 no more a Churle,dooth breed a childe of fame. a'sonn" 
 but (for my birth) my birth right was not great ^^cri- 
 my father did, his forward fonne defeat. ted.
 
 1 8 The life and death 
 
 This froward deed, could fcarce my hart difmay, 
 
 Vertue (quod J) wil fee I mall not lacke : 
 
 And wel I wot Domini efl terra, 
 
 Befides my wit can guide me from a wrack. 
 
 Thus finding caufe, to fofler hye defire: 
 
 I clapt on coft (a help) for to afpire. 
 
 But foolifh man decl in my Pecocks plumes, 
 my wanton wil commaunded ftrait my wit : 
 Yea, brainfick I, was, drunk with fancies fumes, 
 But, Nemo fine crimine viuit. 
 For he that findes, himfelf from vices free 
 I giue him leue, to throwe a ftone at me. 
 
 It helps my praife, that I my fault recite, 
 
 The loft fheep found, the feaft was made for ioy : 
 
 Euil fets out good, as far as black dooth white. 
 
 The pure delight, is drayned from anoy. 
 
 But (that in cheef, which writers mould refpecl) 
 
 trueth is the garde, that keepeth men vnchecl. 
 
 And for a trueth begilde with felf conceit, 
 
 I thought yat men would throwe rewards on me 
 
 But as a fifh, feld bites with out a baight, 
 
 So none vnforfl, men needs will hear or fee. 
 
 and begging futes, from dunghil thoughts proceed; 
 
 the mounting minde, had rather fterue in need. 
 
 Wel leaue I hear, of thriftles wil to write, 
 wit found my rents, agreed not with my charge : 
 The fweet of war, fung by the carpet knight, 
 In pofte hade then fhipt me in Ventures Barge. 
 Thefe lufty lims, Saunce vfe (quod, I) will ruft : 
 That pitie were, for I to them muft truft.
 
 of M. G. Ga/koignc. 19 
 
 Wei plafle at length, among the drunken Dutch, 
 
 (though rumours lewd, impayred my defert) Heserued 
 
 I boldely vaunt, the blafl of Fame is fuch, land. c 
 
 As prooues I had, a froward fowrs hart. 
 
 My flender gaine a further witnes is : 
 
 For woorthieft men, the fpoiles of war do mis. 
 
 Euen there the man, that went to fight for pence,?"g ) o n 1 er 
 Cacht by fly hap, in prifon vile was popt: 
 Yeahadnot woordes, fought formyliuesdefence, ?* T h . ad 
 
 II ill i n "* e katin, 
 
 Forallmy hands, my breth had there been ftopt Italian, 
 But I in fine, did fo perfwade my foe : TnTou'tch 
 
 as (fcot free) I, was homewards fet to goe. language*. 
 
 Thus wore I time, the welthier not a whit, 
 
 Yet awckward chance, lackt force, to beard my hope 
 
 In peace (quod I) ile trufl unto my wit, 
 
 the windowes of my mufe, then flraight I ope His 
 
 And firfl I fhowe, the trauail of fuch time : 
 
 as I in youth, imployd in loouing rime. 
 
 Some ftraight way faid (their tungs with enuy fret), 
 thofe wanton layes, inductions were to vice : 
 Such did me wrong, for (quod nocet, docef) Poyses. 
 our neyghbours harms, are Items to the wife. 
 And fure thefe toyes, do fhowe for your behoof: 
 The woes of looue, and not the wayes to loue. 
 
 And that the worlde might read them as I ment, 
 I left this vaine, to path the vertuous waies : Glasse of 
 The lewd I checkt, in Glas of gouerment, mmf~ 
 And (laboring ftil, by paines, to purchace praife) 
 I wrought a Glaffe, wherin eche man may fee : 
 Within his minde, what canckred vices be.
 
 2O The life and death 
 
 The druncken foule, transformed to a bead, Diet for 
 
 . . . drunken! 
 
 my diet helps, a man, again to make : 
 But (that which mould, be praifd abooue the reft) 
 My Doomes day Drum, from fin dooth you awake 
 For honefl fport, which dooth refrefh the wit : ^^ 
 I haue for you, a book of hunting writ. 
 
 Hunting. 
 
 Thefe few books, are dayly in your eyes, P e . hatl ' 
 
 , f i* books to 
 
 Parhaps of woorth, my fame ahue to keep : publish. 
 
 Yet other woorks, (I think) of more emprife, 
 
 Coucht clofe as yet, within my cofers fleep. 
 
 yea til I dy, none mall the fame reuele : 
 
 So men wil fay, that Gajkoign wrote of Zeale. 
 
 Enuy vile, foule fall thee wretched fot, Enu y- 
 Thou mortall foe, vnto the forward minde : 
 
 1 curie thee wretch, the onely caufe godwot, 
 That my good wil, no more account did finde. 
 And not content, thy felf to doo me fear : 
 
 Thou nipfl my hart, with Spight^ Sufpeft and Care. 
 
 And firfl of Spight foule Enuies poyfoned pye, 
 To Midas eares, this As hath Lyntitts, eyes : 
 With painted fhewes, he heaues him felf on hie, 
 Ful oft this Dolte, in learned authors pries, 
 But as the Drone, the hony hiue, dooth rob : 
 with woorthy books, fo deales this idle lob. 
 
 He filcheth tearms, to paint a pratling tung. 
 When (God he knowes) he knows not what he faies 
 And left the wife mould finde his wit but yung, 
 He woorks all means, their woorks for to difpraife. 
 To fmooth his fpeech, ye beafl this patch doth crop 
 He fhowes the bad, the writers mouthes to flop.
 
 of M. G. Gajkoigne. 21 
 
 Ye woorfe then this, he dealeth in offence, 
 (Ten good turnes, he with filence (Iriketh dead) ; 
 A flender fault, ten times beyond pretence, 
 This wretched Spight in euery place dooth fpread. 
 And with his breth, the Viper dooth infect : 
 The hearers heads, and harts with falfe fufpect. 
 
 Now of Sufpcft : the propertie to fhowe, Suspect. 
 
 He hides his dought, yet Mil miftrufleth more : 
 The man fufpect, is fo debard to knowe, 
 The caufe and cure of this his ranckling fore. 
 And fo in vain, hee good account dooth feek, 
 Who by this Feende, is brought into miflike. 
 
 Now hear my tale, or caufe which kild my hart, 
 
 Thefe priuy foes, to tread me vnder foot : 
 
 My true intent, with forged faults did thwart : 
 
 fo that I found, for me it was no boot 
 
 to woork as Bees, from weeds, which hony dranes, 
 
 When Spiders turnd, my flowers vnto banes. 
 
 When my plain woords, by fooles mifconflred were 
 by whofe fond tales reward hild his hands back 
 To quite my woorth, a caufe to fettle care : 
 within my bred, who wel deferu'd, did lack, 
 for who can brook, to fee a painted crowe : 
 Singing a loft, when Turtles mourn belowe. 
 
 What man can yeld, to flarue among his books, ore. 
 and fee pied Doultes, vppon a booty feed ? 
 What honeft minde, can Hue by fau'ring looks, 
 and fee the lewd, to rech a freendly deed ? 
 What hart can bide, in bloody warres to toile : 
 when carpet fwads, deuour ye Soldiers fpoile ?
 
 2 2 The life and death 
 
 I am the wretch, whom Fortune flirted foe, 
 Thefe men, were brib'd, ere I had breth to fpeak 
 Mufe then no whit, with this huge ouerthrowe, 
 though cruffhing care, my giltles hart doth break 
 But you wil fay, that in delight doo dwell : 
 my outward fhowe, no inward greef did tel. 
 
 I graunt it true ; but hark vnto the reft, 
 The Swan in fongs, dooth knolle ner pafling bel : 
 The Nightingale, with thornes againft her breft 
 when me might mourn, her fweeteft layes doth yel 
 The valiant man, fo playes a pleafant parte : 
 When mothes of mone, doo gnaw vppon his hart. 
 
 For proofe, my felf, with care not fo a feard, 
 
 But as hurt Deere waile, (through their wounds alone) 
 
 When ftoutly they doo Hand among yat heard. 
 
 So that I faw, but few hark to my mone. 
 
 made choife to tel deaf walles, my wretched plaint : 
 
 in fight of men, who nothing feemd to faint. 
 
 But as oft vfe, dooth weare an iron cote, NO Phisi- 
 
 as milling drops, hard flints in time doth pearfe find out 
 By peece meales, care fo wrought me vnder foot hls s reefc - 
 but more then ftraunge is that I now rehearfe, 
 Three months I liued, and did digeft no food : 
 when none by arte my ficknes vnderftood. 
 
 What helpeth then ? to death I needs mufl pine, 
 yet as the horfe, the vfe of warre which knowes : 
 Jf he be hurt, will neither winch nor whine, 
 but til he dye, pofte with his Rider goes. 
 Euen fo my hart, whilft lungs may lend me breth : 
 Bares vp my limmes, who liuing go like death.
 
 of M. G. Gajkoigne, 23 
 
 But what auailes, Achilles hart, to haue, 
 King Crejfus welth, the fvvay of all the world : 
 The Prince, the Peere, fo to the wretched flaue, 
 when death affaults, from earthly holdes are whorld. 
 Yea oft he ftrikes ere one can flir his eye : 
 Then good you Hue, as you would dayly dye. 
 
 You fee the plight, I wretched now am in, 
 
 I looke much like a threfhed ear of corne : 
 
 I holde a forme, within a wrimpled fkin, 
 
 but from my bones, the fat and flefh is worne 
 
 See, fee the man, late plefures Minion : 
 
 pinde to the bones, with care and wretched mone 
 
 See gallants fee, a picture worth the fight, 
 
 (as you are now, my felf was heertofore) 
 
 My body late, ftuft ful of manly might, 
 
 As bare as Iob t is brought to Death his doore. 
 
 My hand of late, which fought to win me fame : 
 
 Stif clung with colde, wants forfe to write my name. 
 
 My legges which bare, my body ful of flefh, 
 Vnable are, to flay my bones vpright : 
 My tung (God wot) which talkt as one would wifli, 
 In broken woords, can fcarce my minde recite. 
 My head late fluft, with wit and learned fkil : 
 may now conceiue, but not conuay my wil. 
 
 What fay you freends, this fudain chaunge to fee ? 
 You rue my greef, you doo like flefh and blood : 
 But mone your finnes, and neuer morne for me, 
 And to be plain, I would you vnderflood. 
 My hart dooth fwim, in feas of more delight : 
 Then your who feems, to rue my wretched plight.
 
 24 The life and death 
 
 What is this world ? a net to fnare the foule, 
 
 A mas of fmne, a defart of deceit : 
 
 A moments ioy, an age of wretched dole, 
 
 A lure from grace, for flem a toothfome baight. 
 
 Vnto the minde, a cankerworm of care : 
 
 Vnfure, vniufl, in rendring man his mare. 
 
 A place where pride, oreruns the honefl minde, 
 Wheer richmen ioynes, to rob the fhiftles wretch : 
 where bribing mifts, the iudges eyes doo blinde, 
 Where Parafites, the fatteft crummes doo catch. 
 Where good deferts (which chalenge like reward) 
 Are ouer blowen, with blafts of light regard. 
 
 And what is man ? Dull, Slime, a puf of winde, 
 Conceiu'd in fin, plafle in the woorld with greef, 
 Brought vp with care, til care hath caught his minde, 
 And then (til death, vouchfafe him fome releef) 
 Day yea nor night, his care dooth take an end : 
 To gather goods, for other men to fpend. 
 
 O foolifh man, that art in office plafte, 
 Think whence thou cam'ft, and whether ye malt goe 
 The huge hie Okes, fmall windes have ouer caft, 
 when llender reeds, in roughefl wethers growe. 
 Euen fo pale death, oft fpares the wretched wight : 
 And woundeth you, who wallow in delight. 
 
 You lufly youths, that nurifh hie defire, 
 Abafe your plumes, which makes you look fo big : 
 The Colliers cut, the Courtiars Steed wil tire, 
 Euen fo the Clark, the Parfones graue dooth dig. 
 Whofe hap is yet, heer longer life to win : 
 Dooth heap (God wot) but forowe vnto fmne.
 
 of M. G. Gafcoyne. 25 
 
 And to be fliort, all fortes of men take heede, 
 the thunder boltes, the loftye Towers teare : 
 The lightning flafh, confumes the houfe of reed, 
 yea more in time, all earthly things will weare. 
 Saue only man, who as his earthly liuing is : 
 Shall Hue in wo, orels in endles blis. 
 
 More would I fay, if life would lend me fpace, 
 but all in vain : death waites of no mans will : 
 The tired lade, dooth trip at euery pace, 
 when pampered horfe, will praunce againfl the hil. 
 So helthfull men, at long dtfcourfes fporte: 
 When few woords, the fick, would fain reporte. 
 
 The bed is this, my will is quickly made, 
 my welth is fmall, the more my confcience eafe : 
 This fhort accompt (which makes me ill apaid) 
 my louing wife and fonne, will hardly pleafe. 
 But in this cafe, fo pleafe them as I may : 
 Thefe folowing woords, my teftament do wray. 
 
 My foule I firft, bequeath Almighty God, 
 
 and though my finnes are greuous in his fight : hi s e wi! 
 
 I firmly truft, to fcape his firy rod, 
 
 when as my faith his deer Sonne mail recite. 
 
 Whofe precious blood (to quench his Fathers ire) 
 
 Is fole the caufe, that faues me from hel fire. 
 
 My Body now which once I decked braue 
 (from whence it cam) vnto the earth I giue : 
 I wifh no pomp, the fame for to ingraue, 
 once buried corn, dooth rot before it liue. 
 And flefh and blood in this felf forte is tryed : 
 Thus buriall coft, is (with out proffit) pride.
 
 2 6 The life and death 
 
 I humbly giue, my gratious foueraign Queene 
 (by feruice bound) my true and loyall hart : 
 And trueth to fay, a fight but rarely feene, 
 as Iron greues from th'adamant to parte. 
 Her highnes fo, hath reacht the Grace alone : 
 To gain all harts, yet giues her hart to none. 
 
 My louing wife, whofe face I fain would fee, 
 
 my loue T giue, with all the vvelth I haue : 
 
 But fence my goods (God knoweth) but (lender bee 
 
 moft gratious Queene, for Chrift his fake I craue 
 
 (not for any feruice that I haue doon) 
 
 you will vouchfafe, to aid her and my Sonne. 
 
 Come, come deer Sonne, my bleffmg take in parte. 
 
 and therwithall I giue thee this in charge : 
 
 Firft ferue thou God, then vfe bothe wit and arte, 
 
 thy Fathers det, of feruice to difcharge. 
 
 which (forfte by death) her Maieftie he owes : 
 
 beyond defarts, who ftill rewardes beflowes. 
 
 I freely now all fortes of Men forgiue 
 Their wrongs to me, and wifh them to amend : 
 And as good men, in charitie mould Hue, 
 I craue my faults may no mans minde offend. 
 Lo heer is all, I haue for to bequeft : 
 And this is all, I of the world requeft. 
 
 Now farwell Wife, my Sonne, and Freends farvvel. 
 
 Farwell O world, the baight of all abufe : 
 
 Death where is thy fling ? O Deuil where is thy hel ? 
 
 I little forfe, the forfes you can vfe ; 
 
 Yea to your teeth, I doo you both defye : 
 
 Vt eflem Chrijlo, cupio dijfolni.
 
 of M. G. Ga'koyne. 27 
 
 In this good mood, an end woorthy the fliowe, 
 Bereft of fpeech, his hands to God he heau'd : 
 And fweetly thus, good Gaskoigne went a Dio, 
 Yea with fuch eafe, as no man there perceiu'd, 
 By ftrugling figne, or ftriuing for his breth : 
 That he abode, the paines and pangs of Death. 
 
 Exhortatio. 
 
 His Sean is playd, you folowe on the ac"l, 
 
 Life is but death, til flefh, and blood be flain: Good men 
 
 God graunt his woords, within your harts be pa<5l 
 
 As good men doo, holde earthly pleafures vain. 
 
 The good for ther needs, Vtuntur mundo : 
 
 And vfe good deeds, Vtfruantur Deo. 
 
 Contemne the chaunge, (vfe nay abufe) not God, 
 
 Through holy fhowes, this wordly muck to fcratch : 
 
 To deale with men and Saints is very od. Writes 
 
 Hypocrifie, a man may ouer catch. 
 
 But Hypocrite, thy hart the Lord dooth fee : 
 
 Who by thy thoughts (not thy words) wil iudge thee. 
 
 Thou iefting foole, which mak'fl at fin a face, 
 
 Beware that God, in earned plague thee not : careies 
 
 For where as he, is coldefl in his grace, liuers - 
 
 Euen there he is, in vengeance very hot. 
 
 Tempt not to far, the lotheft man to fight : 
 
 When he is forfte, the lullieft blowes dooth fmight.
 
 28 The life and death 
 
 You Courtiers, check not, Merchants for their gain, 
 you by your loffe, do match with them in blame : Courtiers. 
 The Lawyers life, you Merchants doo not ftaine, 
 The blinde for flouth, may hardly check the lame. 
 I meane that you, in Ballance of deceit : Merchants. 
 wil Lawyers payze, I feare with ouer waight. 
 
 You Lawyers now who earthly Judges are, Lawyers. 
 
 you fhalbe judg'd, and therfore iuclge aright : 
 
 you count Ignorantia luris no bar, 
 
 Then ignorance, your fmnes wil not acquite. 
 
 Read, read God's law, with which yours mould agre : 
 
 That you may iudge, as you would Judged bee. 
 
 You Prelats now, whofe woords are perfecl good, 
 Make fhowe in woorks, yat you your woords infue : 
 A Diamond, holdes his vertue fet in wood, p re iat. 
 but yet in Golde, it hath a frefher hue, 
 Euen fo Gods woord, tolde by the Deuil is pure : 
 Preacht yet by Saints, it doth more heed procure. 
 
 And Reader now, what office fo thou haue, 
 
 to whofe behoofe, this breef difcourfe is tolde: R ea d rs 
 
 Prepare thy felf, eche houre for the graue, ingeneraii. 
 
 the market eats afwel yong fheep as olde. 
 
 Euen fo, the Childe, who feares the fmarting rod: 
 
 The Father oft dooth lead the way to God. 
 
 And bothe in time, this wordly life fhall leaue, 
 thus fure thou art, but know'ft not when to dye : 
 Then good thou Hue, leafl death doo the deceiue, 
 as through good life, thou maift his force defye. 
 For truft me man, no better match can make : 
 Then leaue vnfure, for certain things to take. 
 
 Viuit pojl ' funera Virtus.
 
 of M. G. Ga/koyne. 29 
 
 An Epitaph, written by G. W. of the 
 death, of M. G. Gajkoygne. 
 
 For Gafkoygnes death, leaue of to mone, or morne 
 You are deceiued, aliue the man is ftil : 
 Aliue? O yea, and laugheth death to fcorne, 
 In that, that he, his flefhly lyfe did kil. 
 
 For by fuch death, two lyues he gaines for one, 
 His Soule in heauen dooth Hue in endles ioye 
 His vvoorthy vvoorks, fuch fame in earth haue fovvne, 
 As fack nor wrack, his name can there deflroy. 
 
 But you will fay, by death he only gaines. 
 And how his life, would many ftand in ftead : 
 O dain not Freend (to counterchaunge his paynes) 
 If now in heauen, he haue his earned meade. 
 For once in earth, his toyle was paffing great : 
 And we deuourd the fvveet of all his fvveat. 
 
 FINIS. 
 Nemo ante obitum beatus. 
 
 cri
 
 TCertayne notes of Instruction. 
 
 concerning the making of verfe or 
 
 ryme in Englifli, written at the requefl 
 
 of Mafler Edouardo Donati. 
 
 STgnor Edouardo, fmce promife is debt, and you 
 (by the lawe of friendfhip) do burden me with a 
 promife that I fhoulde lende you inflructions towards 
 the making of Englifh verfe or ryme, I will aflaye to 
 difcharge the fame, though not fo perfectly as I would, 
 yet as readily as I may : and therwithall I pray you 
 confider that Quot homines, tot Sententice, efpecially in 
 Poetrie, wherein (neuerthelefle) I dare not challenge 
 any degree, and yet will I at your requefl aduenture 
 to fet downe my fimple skill in fuch fimple manner as 
 I haue vfed, referring the fame hereafter to the cor- 
 rection of the Laureate. And you mail haue it in 
 thefe few poynts followyng. 
 
 THe firfl and mod neceflarie poynt that euer I 
 iounde meete to be confidered in making of a 
 delectable poeme is this, to grounde it upon fome 
 fine inuention. For it is not inough to roll in pleafant 
 woordes, nor yet to thunder in Rym, Ram, Ruff, by 
 letter (quoth my matter Chaucer) nor yet to abounde 
 in apt vocables, or epythetes, vnlefle the Inuention 
 haue in it alfo aliquid falls. By this aliquid fa/is, I 
 meane fome good and fine deuife, (hewing the quicke 
 capacitie of a writer : and where I fay lome good and 
 fine inuention, I meane that I would haue it both fine 
 and good. For many inuentions are fo fuperfine, that 
 they are Vix good. And againe many Inuentions are 
 good, and yet not finely handled. And for a general 
 forwarning: what Theame foeuer you do take in 
 hande, if you do handle it but tanqnam in oratione
 
 32 
 
 perpetua, and neuer ftudie for fume depth of cleuife in 
 ye Inuention, and fome figures alfo in the handlyng 
 thereof: it will appeare to the fkilfull Reader but a 
 tale of a tubbe. To deliuef vnto you generall examples 
 it were almofte vnpoflible, fithence the occafions of 
 Inuentions are (as it were) infinite : neuertheleffe take 
 in worth mine opinion, and perceyue my furder mean- 
 yng in thefe few poynts. If I mould vndertake to 
 wryte in prayfe of a gentlewoman, I would neither 
 praife hir chriflal eye, nor hir cherrie lippe, etc. For 
 thefe things are trita et obuia. But I would either 
 finde fome fupernaturall caufe wherby my penne 
 might walke in the fuperlatiue degree, or els I would 
 vndertake to aunfwere for any imperfection that fhee 
 hath, and therevpon rayfe the prayfe of hir commen- 
 dation. Likewife if I mould difclofe my pretence in 
 loue, I would eyther make a ftrange difcourfe of fome 
 intolerable paffion, or finde occafion to pleade by the 
 example of fome hiftorie, or difcouer my difquiet in 
 fhadowes per Allegoriam, or vfe the couerteft meane 
 that I could to anoyde the vncomely cuftomes of 
 common writers. Thus much I aduenture to deliuer 
 vnto you (my freend) vpon the rule of Inuention, 
 which of all other rules is moft to be marked, and 
 hardeft to be prefcribed in certayne and infallible 
 rules, neuertheleffe to conclude therein, 1 would haue 
 you fland moft vpon the excellencie of your Inuention, 
 and fticke not to ftudie deepely for fome fine deuife. 
 For that beyng founde, pleafant woordes will follow 
 well inough and faft inough. 
 
 2. Your Inuention being once deuifed, take heede 
 that neither pleafure of rime, nor varietie of deuife, 
 do carie you from it : for as to vfe obfcure and darke 
 phrafes in a pleafant Sonet, is nothing delectable, fo 
 to entermingle merie iefts in a ferious matter is an 
 Indecorum. 
 
 3. I will next aduife you that you hold the iuft 
 meafure wherwith you begin your verfe, I will not 
 denie but this may feeme a prepofterous ordre : but
 
 33 
 
 bycaufe I couet rather to fatiffie you particularly, than 
 to vndertake a generall tradition, I wil not fomuch 
 (land vpon the manner as the matter of my precepts. 
 I fay then, remember to holde the fame meafure wher- 
 with you begin, whether it be in a verfe of fixe fyl- 
 lables, eight, ten, twelue, etc. and though this precept 
 might feeme ridiculous vnto you, fmce euery yong 
 fcholler can conceiue that he ought to continue in the 
 fame meafure wherwith he beginneth, yet do I fee 
 and read many mens Poems now adayes, whiche begin- 
 ning with the meafure of xij. in the firft line, and xiiij. 
 in the fecond (which is the common kinde of verfe) 
 they wil yet (by that time they haue paffed ouer a few 
 verfes) fal into xiiij. and fourtene, et fie de fimilibus, 
 the which is either forgetfulnes or carelefnes. 
 
 4. And in your verfes remembre to place euery 
 worde in his natural Emphafis or found, that is to fay 
 in fuch wife, and with fuch length or fhortneffe, eleua- 
 tion or depreflion of fillables, as it is commonly pro- 
 nounced or vfed : to expreffe the fame we have three 
 maner of accents, grants, lenis, et circumflexa, the 
 whiche I would englifh thus, the long accent, the fhort 
 accent,and thatwhiche is indifferent: thegraue / 
 accent is marked by this caracle,/ the light ac- 
 cent is noted thus, \ and the circumflexe or in- \ 
 different is thus fignified - : the graue accent 
 is drawen out or eleuate, and maketh that 
 fillable long wherevpon it is placed : the light accent is 
 depreffed or fnatched vp, and maketh that fillable fhort 
 vpon the which it lighteth : the circumflexe accent is in- 
 different, fometimes fhort, fometimes long, fometimes de- 
 preffed and fometimes eleuate. For example of th' em- 
 phafis or natural found of words, this word Treafure, hath 
 the graue accent vpon the firfl fillable, whereas if it 
 fhoulde be written in this forte, Treafure, nowe were the 
 fecond fillable long, and that were cleane contrane to 
 the common vfe wherwith it is pronounced. For furder 
 explanation hereof, note you that commonly now a 
 dayes in englifh rimes (for I dare not cal them Englifh 
 C
 
 34 
 
 verfes) we vfe none other order but a foote of two 
 fillables, wherof the firft is depreffed or made fhort, 
 and the fecond is eleuate or made long : and that found 
 or fcanning continueth throughout the verfe. We 
 have vfed in times paft other kindes of Meeters : as for 
 example this following : 
 
 No wight in this world, that wealth can attayne, 
 
 \l\\l \l\\l 
 Vnlejfe he beleue, that all is but vayne. 
 
 Alfo our father Chaucer hath vfed the fame libertie in 
 feete and meafures that the Latinifts do vfe : and who 
 fo euer do perufe and well confider his workes, he fhall 
 fmde that although his lines are not alwayes of one felfe 
 fame number of Syllables, yet beyng redde by one that 
 hath vnderftanding, the longeft verfe and that which 
 hath moft Syllables in it, will fall (to the eare) corref- 
 pondent vnto that whiche hath feweft fillables in it : 
 and like wife that whiche hath in it feweft fyllables, 
 fhalbe founde yet to confift of woordes that haue fuche 
 naturall founde, as may feeme equall in length to a 
 verfe which hath many moe fillables of lighter 
 accentes. And furely I can lament that wee are fallen 
 into fuche a playne and fimple manner of wryting, 
 that there is none other foote vfed but one : wherby 
 our Poemes may iuftly be called Rithmes, and cannot 
 by any right challenge the name of a Verfe. But fince 
 it is fo, let vs take the forde as we fmde it, and lette 
 me fet downe vnto you fuche rules and precepts that 
 euen in this playne foote of two fyllables you wrefte 
 no woorde from his natural and vfuall founde, I do not 
 meane hereby that you may vfe none other wordes but 
 of twoo fillables, for therein you may vfe difcretion 
 according to occafion of matter : but my meaning is, 
 that all the wordes in your verfe be fo placed as the 
 firft fillable may found fhort or be depreffed, the fecond 
 long or eleuate, the third fhorte, the fourth long, the 
 fifth fhorte, etc. For example of my meaning in this
 
 35 
 point marke thefe two varies : 
 
 / rnderjland your m can y ing by your eye. 
 
 \l\l\\\ \ I 
 
 Your meaning I under/land by your eye. 
 
 In thefe two verfes there feemeth no difference at 
 all, fince the one hath the very felfe fame woordes that 
 the other hath, and yet the latter verfe is neyther true 
 nor pleafant, and the firfl verfe may paffe the muflers. 
 The fault of the latter verfe is that this worde vnder- 
 Jland is therein fo placed as the graue accent falleth 
 upon der, and thereby maketh der, in this word vnder- 
 ftand to be eleuated : which is contrarie to the naturall 
 or vfual pronunciation : for we fay 
 
 \ \ / \ / \ 
 
 under/land, and not vnderjlaml. 
 
 5. Here by the way I thinke it not amiffe to fore- 
 warne you that you thruft as few wordes of many 
 fillables into your verfe as may be : and herevnto I 
 might alledge many reafons : firft the moft auncient 
 Englifh wordes are of one fillable, fo that the more 
 monafyllables that you vfe, the truer Englifhman you 
 mail feeme, and the leffe you mall fmell of the Inke- 
 horne. Alfo wordes of many fyllables do cloye a 
 a verfe and make it vnpleafant, whereas woordes of one 
 fyllable will more eafily fall to be fhorte or long as 
 occafion requireth, or wilbe adapted to become cir- 
 cumflexe or of an indifferent founde. 
 
 6 I would exhorte you alfo to beware of rime with- 
 out reafon : my meaning is hereby that your rime 
 leade you not from your firfte Inuention, for many 
 wryters when they haue layed the platforme of their 
 inuention, are yet drawen fometimes (by ryme) to for- 
 get it or at leafl to alter it, as when they cannot readily 
 finde out a worde whiche maye rime to the firfl (and 
 yet continue their determinate Inuention) they do then 
 eyther botche it vp with a worde that will ryme (howe 
 fmall reafon foeuer it carie with it) or els they alter
 
 36 
 
 their firfl worde and fo percafe decline or trouble their 
 former Inuention : But do you alwayes hold your 
 firfl determined Inuention, and do rather fearche the 
 bottome of your braynes for apte words, than chaunge 
 good reafon for rumbling rime. 
 
 7 To help you a little with ryme (which is alfo a 
 plaine yong fchollers leffon) worke thus, when you 
 haue fet downe your firfl verfe, take the laft worde 
 thereof and coumpt ouer all the wordes of the felfe 
 fame founde by order of the Alphabete : As for ex- 
 ample, thelafte woorde of your firfte line is care, to ryme 
 therwith you haue bare, dare, dare, fare, gare, hare, and 
 
 JJiare, mare,fnare, rare, flare, and ware, &>c. Of all 
 thefe take that which beft may ferue your purpofe, 
 carying reafon with rime : and if none of them will ferue 
 fo, then alter the lafle worde of your former verfe, but 
 yet do not willingly alter the meanyng of your Inuention. 
 
 8 You may vfe the fame Figures or Tropes in verfe 
 which are vfed in profe, and in my iudgement they 
 ferue more aptly, and haue greater grace in verfe than 
 they haue in profe : but yet therein remembre this old 
 adage, Ne quid nimis, as many wryters which do know 
 the vfe of any other figure than that whiche is ex- 
 preffed. in repeticion of fundrie wordes beginning all 
 with one letter, the whiche (beyng modeflly vfed) 
 lendeth good grace to a verfe : but they do fo hunte 
 a letter to death, that they make it Crambe, and 
 Crambe bis pofitum mors efl : therfore Ne quid nimis. 
 
 9 Alfo afmuche as may be, efchew ftraunge words, 
 or obfoleta et inufitata, vnleffe the Theame do giue iuft 
 occafion : marie in fome places a ftraunge worde doth 
 drawe attentiue reading, but yet I woulde haue you 
 therein to vfe difcretion. 
 
 10 And afmuch as you may, frame your ftile to 
 perfpicuity and to be fenfible : for the haughty obfcure 
 verfe doth not much delight, and the verfe that is to 
 eafie is like a tale of a rofted horfe : but let your 
 Poeme be fuch as may both delight and draw atten- 
 tiue readyng, and therewithal may deliuer luch matter 
 as be worth the marking.
 
 37 
 
 11. You fhall do very well to vfe your verfe after th[e] 
 englifhe phrafe, and not after the manner of other 
 languages : The Latinifls do commonly fet the adiec- 
 tiue after the Subflantiue : As for example Fcmina 
 pule lira, cedes altce, &c. but if we mould fay in Englifh 
 a woman fayre, a houfe high, etc. it would haue but 
 final 1 grace : for we fay a good man, and not a man 
 good, etc. And yet I will not altogether forbidde it 
 you, for in fome places, it may be borne, but not fo 
 hardly as fome vfe it which wryte thus : 
 
 Now let rs go to Temple ours, 
 
 I will go vifit mother myne &*c. 
 Surely I fmile at the fimplicitie of fuch deuifers which 
 might afwell haue fayde it in playne Englifhe phrafe, 
 and yet haue better pleafed all eares, than they latiffie 
 their owne fancies by fuche fuperfineffe. Therefore 
 euen as I haue aduifed you to place all wordes in theii 
 naturall or mofl common and vfuall pronunciation, fo 
 would I wifhe you to frame all fentences in their 
 mother phrafe and proper Idioma, and yet fometimes 
 (as I haue fayd before) the contrarie may be borne, 
 but that is rather where rime enforceth, or per licen- 
 tiam Poeticam, than it is otherwife lawfull or commend 
 able. 
 
 12. This poeticall licence is a fhrewde fellow, ana 
 couereth many faults in a verfe, it maketh wordes 
 longer, fhorter, of mo fillables, of fewer, newer, older, 
 truer, falfer, and to conclude it turkenedi all things at 
 pleafure, for example, ydone for done, adjwne for downe, 
 orecome for ouercome, tane for taken , pcwer for powre, 
 heaven for /iearn, thewes for good partes or good quali- 
 ties, and a numbre of other whiche were but tedious 
 and needeleffe to rehearfe, fince your owne Judgement 
 and readyng will foone make you efpie fuch aduaun- 
 tages. 
 
 13 There are alfo certayne paufes or refl.es in a 
 verfe whiche may be called Ccafuns, whereof I woulde 
 be lothe to ftande long, fince it is at difcretion of the 
 wryter, and they haue bene firft, deuifed (as fliould
 
 38 
 
 teeme) by the Muficians : but yet thus much I will 
 aduenture to wryte, that in mine opinion in a verfe of 
 eight fillables, the paufe will ftand beft in the middeft, 
 in a verfe of tenne it will bed be placed at the ende 
 of the firft foure fillables : in a verfe of twelue, in the 
 midft, in verfes of twelue in the firfte and fouretene 
 in the leconde, wee place the paufe commonly in the 
 midft of the firft, and at the ende of the firft eight 
 fillables in the fecond. In Rithme royall, it is at the 
 wryters difcretion, and forceth not where the paufe be 
 vntill the ende of the line. 
 
 14. And here bycaufe I haue named Rithme royall, 
 I will tell you alfo mine opinion afwell of that as of 
 the names which other rymes haue commonly borne 
 heretofore. Rythme royall is a verfe of tenne fillables, 
 and feuen fuch verfes make a ftaffe, whereof the firft 
 and thirde lines do aunfwer (acroffe) in like termina- 
 tions and rime, the fecond, fourth, and fifth, do like- 
 wife anfwere eche other in terminations, and the two 
 lafl do combine and fhut vp the Sentence : this hath 
 bene called Rithme royall, and furely it is a royall 
 kinde of verfe, feruing beft for graue difcourfes. There 
 is alfo another kinde called Ballade, and thereof are 
 fundrie fortes : for a man may write ballade in a ftaffe 
 of fixe lines, euery line conteyning eighte or fixe fil- 
 lables, whereof the firfte and third, fecond and fourth 
 do rime acroffe, and the fifth and fixth do rime togither 
 in conclufion. You may write alfo your ballad of 
 tenne fillables rimyng as before is declared, but thefe 
 two were wont to be moft commonly vfed in ballade, 
 which propre name was (I thinke) deriued of this 
 worde in Italian Ballare, whiche fignifieth to daunce. 
 And in deed thofe kinds of rimes ferue befte for 
 daunces or light matters. Then haue you alfo a rond- 
 lette, the which doth alwayes end with one felf fame 
 foote or repeticion, and was thereof (in my Judgement) 
 called a rondelet. This may confifl of fuch meafure 
 as beft liketh the wryter, then haue you Sonnets, fome 
 tliinke that all Poemes (being fhort) may be called
 
 39 
 
 Sonets, as in deede it is a diminutiue worde deriued of 
 Sonare, but yet I can befle allowe to call thofe Sonnets 
 whicheareoffouretenelynes,euerylineconteyning tenne 
 fyllables. The firfte twelue do ryme in flaues of 
 foure lines by croffe meetre, and the lafl two ryming 
 togither do conclude the whole. There are Dyzaynes, 
 and Syxaines which are of ten lines, and ot fixe lines, 
 commonly vfed by the French, which fome Engles. 
 writers do alfo terme by the name of Sonetter- 
 Then is there an old kinde of Rithme called Vim 
 layes, deriued (as I haue redde) of this worde Verd 
 whiche betokeneth Greene, and Laye which betoken- 
 eth a Song, as if you would fay greene Songes : but I 
 mufle tell you by the way, that I neuer redde any verfe 
 which I faw by auclhoritie called Verlay, but one, and 
 that was a long difcourfe in verfes of tenne fillables, 
 whereof the foure firft did ryme acroflfe, and the fifth 
 did aunfwere to the firfte and thirde, breaking off 
 there, and fo going on to another termination. Of this 
 I could fhewe example of imitation in mine own 
 verfes written to ye right honorable ye Lord Grey of 
 Wilton upon my iourney into Holland, etc.* There 
 are alfo certaine Poemes deuifed of tenne fyllables, 
 whereof the firft aunfwereth in termination with the 
 fourth, and the fecond and thirde anfwere eche other : 
 thefe are more vfed by other nations than by vs, ney- 
 ther can I tell readily what name to giue them. And 
 the commonefl fort of verfe which we vfe now adayes 
 (viz. the long verfe of twelue and fourtene fillables) I 
 know not certainly howe to name it, vnleffe I fhould 
 lay that it doth confift of Poulters meafure, which 
 giueth. xii. for one dozen and xiiij. for another. But let 
 this fuffife (if it be not to much) for the fundrie fortes 
 of verfes which we vfe now adayes. 
 
 15 In all thefe fortes of verfes when foeuer you 
 vndertake to write, auoyde prolixitie and tedioufneffe, 
 and euer as neare as you can, do finifh the fentence 
 and meaning at the end of euery ftaffe where you 
 
 * Gascoigne's Voyage into Holland, An. 1572, in his Herbes, 1575.
 
 40 
 
 wright ftaues, and at the end of euery two lines where 
 you write by cooples or poulters meafure : for I fee 
 many writers which draw their fentences in length, 
 and make an ende at latter Lammas : for commonly 
 before they end, the Reader hath forgotten where he 
 begon. But do you (if you wil follow my aduife) 
 efchue prolixitie and knit vp your fentences as com- 
 pendioufly as you may, fmce breuitie (fo that it be not 
 drowned in obfcuritie) is moft commendable. 
 
 1 6 I had forgotten a notable kinde of ryme, called 
 ryding rime, and that is fuche as our Mayfter and 
 Father Chaucer vfed in his Canterburie tales, and in 
 diuers other deleclable and light enterprifes : but 
 though it come to my remembrance fomewhat out of 
 order, it mail not yet come altogether out of time, for 
 I will nowe tell you a conceipt whiche I had before 
 forgotten to wryte : you may fee (by the way) that I 
 holde a prepofterous order in my traditions, but as I 
 fayde before I wryte moued by good wil, and not to 
 fhewe my (kill. Then to returne too my matter, as this 
 riding rime ferueth moft aptly to wryte a merie tale, 
 fo Rythme royall is fitteft for agrauedifcourfe. Ballades 
 are befte of matters of loue, and rondlettes mofte apt 
 for the beating or handlyng of an adage or common 
 prouerbe : Sonets ferue afwell in matters of loue as 
 of difcourfe : Dizaymes and Sixames for fhorte Fan- 
 tazies : Verlayes for an effectual propofition, although 
 by the name you might otherwife iudge of Verlayes, 
 and the long verfe of twelue and fouretene fillables, al- 
 though it be now aclayes vfed in all Theames, yet in my 
 iudgement it would ferue beft for Pfalmes and Himpnes. 
 
 I woulde ftande longer in thefe traditions, were it 
 not that I doubt mine owne ignoraunce, but as I fayde 
 before. I know that I write to my freende, and affying 
 my felfe therevpon, I make an ende. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 I THE STEELE GLAS. L 
 
 *3 
 
 :J A Satyre compiled by George L 
 
 fi^ii Gafcoigne Esquire. 
 
 Togither with 
 The Complainte of Phylomene. 
 
 An Elegie deuifed by 
 the same Author. 
 
 Tarn Marti, qu&m Mercurio. 
 
 j Printed for Richard Smith. '
 
 To the right honorable his sin- 
 gular good Lord the Lord Gray of Wil- 
 ton Knight of the mod honorable order of the Gar- 
 ter, George Gafcoigne Efqtiire wifheth long life 
 with encreafe of honour, according to 
 his great worthinefle. 
 
 Ight honorable, noble, and my fin- 
 gular good Lorde : if mine abilitie 
 were any way correfpondent too the 
 iufl defires of my hart, I mould yet 
 thinke al the fame vnable to deferue 
 the leaft parte of your goodneffe : 
 in that you haue alwayes deygned 
 with chearefull looke to regarde me, 
 with affabylitie to heare me, with exceeding curtefy 
 to vfe me, with graue aduice to direcle mee, with ap- 
 parant loue to care for me, and with affured affiftance 
 to protect me. All which when I do remember, yet 
 it ftirreth in me an exceeding zeale to deferue it : and 
 that zeale begetteth bafhefull dreade too performe it. 
 The dread is ended in dolours, and yet thofe dolours 
 reviued the very fame affection, whiche firfle moued in 
 mee the defire to honour and efleme you. For whiles 
 I bewayle mine own vnworthyneffe, and therewithal 
 do fet before mine eyes the loft time of my youth 
 mifpent, I feeme to fee afarre of (for my comfort) the 
 high and triumphant vertue called Mignanimitie, ac- 
 companied with induftrious diligence. The firft doth 
 encourage my faynting harte, and the feconde doth
 
 The Epiflle Dedicatorie. 43 
 
 beginne (already) to employ my vnderflanding, for 
 (ahlas my goode Lorde) were not the cordial of thefe 
 two pretious Spiceries, the corrofyue of care woulde 
 quickely confounde me. 
 
 I haue mifgouerned my youth, I confeffe it : what 
 (hall I do then ? fhall I yelde to myfery as a iufl plague 
 apointed for my portion ? Magnanimitie faith no, 
 and Induflrye feemeth to be of the very fame opinion. 
 
 I am derided, fufpecled, accufed, and condemned : 
 yea more than that, I am rygoroufly reie6led when I 
 proffer amendes for my harme. Should I therefore 
 difpayre ? fhall I yeelde vnto iellofie ? or drowne my 
 dayes in idleneffe, bycaufe their beginning was bathed 
 in wantonneffe ? Surely (my Lord) the Magnanimitie of 
 a noble minde will not fuffer me, and the delightful- 
 neffe of dilygence doth vtterly forbydde me. 
 
 Shal I grudge to be reproued for that which I haue 
 done in deede, when the fling of Emulation fpared 
 not to louche the worthy Scipio with mod vntrue fur- 
 myfes? Yea Tliemistodes when he had deliuered al 
 Greece from the huge hofl of Xerxes, was yet by his 
 vnkinde citizens of Athens expulfed from his owne, 
 and conftrained to feeke fauour in the fight of his late 
 profeffed enemie. But the Magnanimitie of their 
 mindes was fuch, as neither could aduerfytie ouercome 
 them, nor yet the iniurious dealing of other men coulde 
 kindle in their brefl.es any leaft. fparke of defire, to 
 feeke any vnhonorable reuenge. 
 
 I haue loytred (my lorde) I confeffe, I haue lien 
 flreaking me (like a lubber) when the funne did fliine, 
 and now I flriue al in vaine to loade the carte when 
 it raineth. I regarded not my comelynes in the May- 
 moone of my youth, and yet now I fland prinking me 
 in the glaffe, when the crowes foote is growen vnder 
 mine eye. But what ? 
 
 Aristotle fpent his youth very ryotoufly, and Plato 
 (by your leaue) in twenty of his youthful yeares, was 
 no leffe addicted to delight in amorous verfe, than hee 
 was after in his age painful to write good precepts of
 
 44 The Epiftle Dedicatoric. 
 
 moral Phylofophy. What fhoulde I fpeake of Cato, 
 who was olde before he learned lattine letters, and yet 
 became one of the greateft Oratours of his time ? 
 Thefe examples are fufficient to proue that by induf- 
 trie and diligence any perfection may be attained, 
 and by true Magnanimitie all aduerfities are eafye to 
 be endured. And to that ende (my verie good lorcle) 
 I do here prefume thus rudely to rehearfe them. 
 For as I can be content to confeffe the lightneffe 
 wherewith I haue bene (in times paft) worthie to be 
 burdened, fo would I be gladde, if novve when I am 
 otherwife bent, my better endeuors might be accepted. 
 But (alas my lorde) I am not onely enforced ftil to 
 carie on my moulders the croffe of my carelefneffe, 
 but therewithall I am alfo put to the plonge, too pro- 
 uide newe weapons wherewith I maye defende 
 all heauy frownes, deepe fufpec~ls, and dangerous de- 
 tractions. And I fmde my felfe fo feeble, and fo vnable 
 to endure that combat, as (were not the cordialles 
 before rehearfed) I mould either caft downe mine 
 armoure and hide myfelfe like a recreant, or elfe (of a 
 malicious ftubbornefie) mould bufie my braines with 
 fome Stratagem for to execute an enuious reuenge vpon 
 mine aduerfaries. 
 
 But neither wil Magnanimitie fuffer me to become 
 vnhoneft, nor yet can Induftrie fee me finke in idle- 
 neffe. 
 
 For I haue learned in facred fcriptures to heape 
 coles vppon the heade of mine enemie, by honeft deal- 
 ing : and our fauiour himfelfe hath encoraged me, 
 faying that I fhal lacke neither workes nor feruice, 
 although it were noone dayes before I came into the 
 Market place. 
 
 Thefe things I fay (my fmgular good lorde) do re- 
 newe in my troubled minde the fame affection which 
 firft moued me to honor you, nothing doubting but that 
 your fauorable eyes will vouchfafe to beholde me as 
 I am, and neuer be fo curious as to enquire what I 
 haue bene.
 
 The Epiftle Dedicatoric. 45 
 
 And in ful hope therof, I haue prefumed to pre- 
 fent your honour with this Satyre written without rime, 
 but I truft not without reafon. And what foeuer it 
 bee, I do humbly dedicate it vnto your honorable 
 name, befeeching the fame too accept it with as gra- 
 tious regarde, as you haue in times pad bene accuf- 
 tomed too beholde my trauailes. And (my good 
 Lorde) though the skorneful do mocke me for a time, 
 yet in the ende I hope to giue them al a rybbe of 
 rofle for their paynes. And when the vertuous fhall 
 perceiue indeede ho\v I am occupied, then fhall de- 
 traction be no leffe afhamed to haue falfely accufed 
 me, than light credence flial haue caufe to repent his 
 rafhe conceypt : and Grauitie the iudge fhal not be 
 abafhed to cancel the fentence vniuflly pronounced in 
 my condemnation. In meane while I remaine amongft 
 my bookes here at my poore houfe in VValkamftowe, 
 
 where I praye daylie for fpeedy aduauncement, 
 
 and continuall profperitie of your good Lord- 
 
 fhip. Written the fiftenth 
 
 of April. 1576. 
 
 By your honours mojl boumden and well affured 
 George Gafcoigne,
 
 N. R. in commendation 
 of the Author > and his 
 
 workes. 
 
 IN rowfing verfes of Mauors bloudie raigne, 
 The famous Greke, and Miro did excel. 
 Graue Senec did, furmounte for Tragike vaine, 
 Quicke Epigrams, Catullus wrote as wel. 
 Archilochus, did for lambickes pafie, 
 For commicke verfe, flill Plautus peereleffe was 
 
 In Elegies, and wanton loue writ laies, 
 
 Sance peere were Nafo, and Tibullus deemde : 
 
 In Satyres fharpe (as men of mickle praife) 
 
 Lucilius, and Horace were efleemde. 
 
 Thus diuers men, with diuers vaines did write, 
 
 But Gafcoigne doth, in euery vaine indite. 
 
 And what perfourmaunce hee thereof doth make, 
 I lift not vaunte, his workes for me fhal fay ; 
 In praifing him Timantes trade I take, 
 Who (when he mould, the woful cheare difplaie, 
 Duke Agamemnon had when he did waile, 
 His daughters death with teares of fmal auaile : 
 
 Not fkild to counterftiape his morneful grace, 
 That men might deeme, what art coulde not fupplie) 
 Deuifde with painted vaile, to fhrowde his face. 
 Like forte my pen fhal Gafcoignes praife difcrie, 
 Which wanting grace, his graces to rehearfe, 
 Doth fhrowde and cloude them thus in filent verfe.
 
 47 
 
 'Walter Rawely of the middle 
 
 Temple, in commendation of the Steele Glaffe. 
 
 SWete were the fauce, would pleafe ech kind of tafl, 
 The life likewife, were pure that neuer fwerued, 
 For fpyteful tongs, in cankred flomackes plafle, 
 Deeme worfl of things, which bed (percafe) deferued : 
 But what for that ? this medcine may fuffyfe, 
 To fcorne the reft, and feke to pleafe the wife. 
 
 Though fundry mindes, in fundry forte do deeme, 
 Yet worthiefl wights, yelde prayfe for euery payne, 
 But enuious braynes, do nought (or light) efteme, 
 Such ftately fteppes, as they cannot attaine. 
 For who fo reapes, renowne aboue the reft, 
 With heapes of hate, fhal furely be oppreft. 
 
 Wherefore to write, my cenfure of this booke, 
 This Glade of Steele, vnpartially doth fhewe, 
 Abufes all, to fuch as in it looke, 
 From prince to poore, from high eftate to lowe, 
 As for the verfe, who lifts like trade to trye, 
 I feare me much, fhal hardly rearhe fo high. 
 
 Nicholas Bowyer in commen- 
 
 dation of this worke. 
 
 FRom layes of Loue, to Satyres fadde and fage, 
 Our Poet turnes, the trauaile of his time, 
 And as he pleafde, the vaine of youthful age, 
 With pleafant penne, employde in louing ryme : 
 So now he feekes, the graueft to delight, 
 With workes of worth, much better than they fhowe. 
 
 1 Mr. J. P. Collier, in Atch. xxxiv. that the above heading shows him to 
 138, states that this is the earliest have been at least resident in the 
 known verse of Sir W. Raleigh's, and Middle Temple in 1570.
 
 4 8 
 
 This Glaffe of Steele, (if it be markt aright) 
 Difcries the faults, as wel of high as lowe. 
 And Philomelaes fourefolde iuft complaynte, 
 In fugred founde, doth fhrowde a folempne fence, 
 Gainft thofe whome Iuft, or murder doth attaynte. 
 Lo this we fee, is Gafcoignes good pretence, 
 To pleafe al forts, with his praifeworthy skill. 
 Then yelde him thanks in figne of like good wil. 
 
 The Author to the Reader. 
 
 TO vaunt, were vaine : and flattrie were a faulte. 
 But truth to tell, there is a fort of fame, 
 The which I feeke, by fcience to affault, 
 And fo to leaue, remembrance of my name. 
 The walles thereof are wondrous hard to clyme : 
 
 And much to high, for ladders made of ryme. 
 
 Then fince I fee, that rimes can feldome reache, 
 
 Vnto the toppe, of fuch a ftately Towre, 
 
 By reafons force, I meane to make fome breache, 
 
 Which yet may helpe, my feeble fainting powre, 
 
 That fo at laft, my Mufe might enter in, 
 
 And reafon rule, that rime could neuer win. 
 
 Such battring tyre, this pamphlet here bewraies, 
 In rymeleffe verfe, which thundreth mighty threaten, 
 And where it findes, that vice the wal decayes, 
 Eiien there (amaine) with fharpe rebukes it beates. 
 The worke (thinke I) deferues an honeft name, 
 If not? I fayle, to win this forte of fame. 
 
 Tain Marti, quam Mercurio.
 
 THE STEELE 
 GLAS. 
 
 He Nightingale, (whofe happy noble 
 
 hart, 
 No dole can daunt, nor feareful force 
 
 affright, 
 Whofe chereful voice, doth comfort 
 
 faddeft wights, 
 When fhe,hir felf, hath little caufe to 
 
 fmg. 
 
 Whom louers loue, bicaufe fhe plaines their greues, 
 She wraies their woes, and yet relieues their payne, 
 Whom worthy mindes, alwayes efleemed much, 
 And graueft yeares, haue not difdainde hir notes : 
 (Only that king proud Tereus by his name 
 With murdring knife, did carue hir pleafant tong, 
 To couer fo, his owne foule filthy fault) 
 This worthy bird, hath taught my weary Muze, 
 To fing a fong, in fpight of their defpight, 
 Which worke my woe, withouten caufe or crime, 
 And make my backe, a ladder for their feete, 
 By flaundrous fteppes, and flayres of tickle talke, 
 To clyme the throne, wherein my felfe mould fitte. 
 O Phylomene, then helpe me now to chaunt : 
 And if dead beaftes, or liuing byrdes haue ghofts, 
 Which can conceiue the caufe of carefull mone, 
 When wrong triumphes, and right is ouertrodde, 
 D
 
 50 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Then helpe me now, O byrd of gentle bloud, 
 In barrayne verfe, to tell a frutefull tale, 
 A tale (I meane) which may content the mindes 
 Of learned men, and graue Philofophers. 
 
 And you my Lord, (whofe happe hath heretofore 
 Bene, louingly to reade my reckles rimes, 
 And yet haue deignde, with fauor to forget 
 The faults of youth, which pafl my hafty pen : 
 And therwithall, haue gracioufly vouchfafte, 
 To yeld the reft, much more than they defervde) 
 Vouchfafe (lo now) to reade and to perufe, 
 This rimles verfe, which flowes from troubled mind. 
 Synce that the line, of that falfe caytife king, 
 (Which rauifhed fayre Phylomene for luft, 
 And then cut out, hir trustie tong for hate) 
 Liues yet (my Lord) which words I weepe to write. 
 They Hue, they Hue, (alas the worfe my lucke) 
 Whofe greedy luft, vnbridled from their breft, 
 Hath raunged long about the world fo wyde, 
 To finde a pray for their wide open mouthes, 
 And me they found, (O wofull tale to tell) 
 Whofe harmeleffe hart, perceivde not their deceipt. 
 
 But that my Lord, may playnely vnderftand, 
 
 The myfleries, of all that I do meane, 
 
 I am not he whom flaunderous tongues haue tolde, 
 
 (Falfe tongues in dede, and craftie fubtile braines) 
 
 To be the man, which ment a common fpoyle 
 
 Of louing dames, whofe eares wold heare my words 
 
 Or trufl the tales deuifed by my pen. 
 
 In' am a man, as fome do thinke I am, 
 
 (Laugh not good Lord) I am in dede a dame, 
 
 Or at the leaft, a right Hermaphrodite: N 
 
 And who defires, at large to knowe my name, noran? 
 
 My birth, my line, and euery circumftance, buTa' lclt 
 
 Lo reade it here, Playne dealyng was my Syre, thought 
 
 And he begat me by Simplycitie, " 1
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 51 
 
 A paire of twinnes at one felfe burden borne, 
 My fiflr' and I, into this world were fent, 
 My Syfters name, was pleafant Poefys, 
 And I my felfe had Satyra to name, 
 Whofe happe was fuch, that in the prime of 
 youth, 
 
 410111 n f 
 
 A lufty ladde, a llately man to fee, 
 
 Brought vp in place, where pleafures did abound, 
 
 (I dare not fay, in court for both myne eares) 
 
 Beganne to woo my fifter, not for wealth, 
 
 But for hir face was louely to beholde, 
 
 And therewithall, hir fpeeche was pleafant fi.il. . 
 
 TI-- XT i_i 11 i T-. 7- F commonly 
 
 I his Nobles name, was called vayne Delight, 
 And in his trayne, he had a comely crewe 
 Of guylefull wights : Falfe fmiblant was the 
 
 Satyricai- 
 
 maynght 
 'v be c 3 '- 
 
 of such 
 
 symplici- 
 
 tie. 
 
 where 
 
 found a 
 
 poetry, 
 than vaine 
 
 Delight? 
 
 Such men 
 
 do many 
 at " 
 
 
 The fecond man was, Flearin* flattery. 
 
 /r> , . ... / i \ 
 
 (Brethren by like, or very neare of km) 
 
 Then followed them, Detraction and Deceits, 
 
 Sym SwaJJt did beare a buckler for the firfl, 
 
 Falfe witneffe was the feconde (lemly page, 
 
 And thus wel armd, and in good equipage, 
 
 This Galant came, vnto my fathers courte, 
 
 And woed my fifter, for (he elder was, 
 
 And fayrer eke, but out of doubt (at least) 
 
 Hir pleafant fpeech furpaffed mine fomuch, 
 
 That vayne Delight, to hir adrest his fute. 
 
 Short tale to make, fhe gaue a free confenr, r oetr i e 
 
 And forth me goeth, to be his wedded make, married 
 
 Entyst percafe, with glofle of gorgeous fhewe, De^g"?. 
 
 (Or elfe perhappes, perfuaded by his peeres,) 
 
 That conflant loue had herbord in his brefl, 
 
 Such errors groit'e where fitche falfe Prophets preach. 
 
 How fo it were, my Sifter likte him wel, 
 
 And forth fhe goeth, in Court with him to dwel, 
 
 Where when fhe had fome yeeres yfoiorned, 
 
 And faw the world, and marked eche mans minde, 
 
 A deepe Defire hir louing hart enflamde,
 
 52 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 To fee me fit by hir in feemely wife, 
 
 That companye might comfort hir fometimes, 
 
 And found advice might eafe hir wearie thoughtes : 
 
 And forth with fpeede, (euen at hir firfl requefl) 
 
 Doth vaine Delight, his hasty courfe direct, 
 
 To feeke me out his fayles are fully bent, 
 
 And winde was good, to bring me to the bowre, 
 
 Whereas fhe lay, that mourned dayes and nights 
 
 To fee hir felfe, fo matchte and fo deceivde, 
 
 And when the wretch, (I cannot terme him bet) 
 
 Had me on feas ful farre from friendly help, 
 
 A fparke of luft, did kindle in his bred, 
 
 And bad him harke, to fongs of Satyra. 
 
 I felly foule (which thought no body harme) 
 
 Can cleere my throte, and flraue to fing my Satyricai 
 
 L.A Poetry is 
 
 belt, somtimes 
 
 Which pleafde him fo, and fo enflamde hishart, gtSl 
 That he forgot my fister Poefys, Delight. 
 
 And rauifht me, to pleafe his wanton minde. 
 Not fo content, when this foule fact was done, 
 (Yfraught with feare, lead that I fhould difclofe 
 His inceft : and his doting darke defire) f, alse sei n- 
 
 II /-j/i-i ic net- blant and 
 
 He caufde uraight wayes, the formolt of his Satiric 
 
 can sel " 
 -i i dome be- 
 
 his compeare, to trie me with their guile sad- 
 tongues: | Poe - 
 
 And when their guiles, could not preuaile to winne 
 My fimple mynde, from tracke of truftie truth, 
 Nor yet deceyt could bleare mine eyes through fraud, 
 Came Slander then, accufing me, and fayde, 
 That I entift Delyght, to loue and luste. 
 Thus was I caught, poore wretch that thought none il. 
 And furthermore, to cloke their own offence, The re- 
 They clapt me faft, in cage of Myferie, ^ y d m e f d _ 
 
 And there I dwelt, full many a doleful day, |> n .g >? 
 Vntil this theefe, this traytor vaine Delight, 
 Cut out my tong, with Ray for of Rejlrayntc, 
 Leaft I fhould wraye, this bloudy deede of his.
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 53 
 
 And thus (my Lord) I Hue a weary life, no ' e novv 
 
 ..-. T / j r x- e i i and compare 
 
 Not as I feemd, a man fometimes of might, this aiiego- 
 But womanlike, whofe teares mufl venge hir ^ J r h f e 
 
 harms. Progne and 
 
 And yet, euen as the mighty gods did daine P 
 For P/iilomele, that thoughe hir tong were cutte, 
 Yet fliould fhe fing a pleafant note fometimes : 
 So haue they deignd, by their deuine decrees, 
 That with the (lumps of my reproued tong, 
 I may fometimes, Reprouers deedes reproue, 
 And fing a verfe, to make them fee themfelues. 
 
 Then thus I fing, this felly fong by night, 
 Like Phylomene, fince that the mining Sunne 
 Is how eclypfl, which wont to lend me light. 
 
 And thus I fing, in corner clofely cowcht 
 Like Philomene, fince that the flately cowrts, 
 Are now no place, for fuch poore byrds as 1. 
 
 And thus I fing, with pricke against my brest, 
 Like Philomene, fince that the priuy worme, 
 Which makes me fee my reckles youth mifpent, 
 May well fuffife, to keepe me waking dill. 
 
 And thus I fing, when pleafant fpring begins, 
 Like Philomenc, fince euery ianglyng byrd, 
 Which fqueaketh loude, (hall neuer triumph fo, 
 As though my muze were mute and durft not fing. 
 
 And thus I fing, with harmelefle true intent, 
 Like Philomene, when as percafe (meane while) 
 The Cuckowe (uckes mine eggs by foule deceit, 
 And lickes the fweet, which might haue fed me firfl. 
 
 And thus I meane, in mournfull wife to fing, 
 A rare conceit, (God graunt it like my Lorde) 
 A truflie tune, from auncient clyffes conueyed, 
 A playne fong note, which cannot warble well.
 
 54 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 For whyles I mark this weak and wretched world, H ? re the 
 
 iiri T /- i_ i j r substance 
 
 Wherein I fee, howe euery kind of man of the 
 
 Can flatter flill, and yet deceiues himfelfe. begtn^eth 
 I feeme to mufe, from whence fuch errour fprings, 
 Such groffe conceits, fuch mistes of darke miflake, 
 Such Surcuydry, fuch weening ouer well, 
 And yet in dede, fuch dealings too too badde. 
 And as I ftretch my weary wittes, to weighe 
 The caufe thereof, and whence it mould proceede, 
 My battred braynes, (which now be fhrewdly brufde, 
 With cannon mot, of much mifgouernment) 
 Can fpye no caufe, but onely one conceite, 
 Which makes me thinke, the world goeth ftil awry. 
 
 I fee and figh, (bycaufe it makes me fadde) 
 
 That peuifhe prycle, doth al the world poffeffe, 
 
 And euery wight, will haue a looking glaffe 
 
 To fee himfelfe, yet fo he feeth him not : 
 
 Yea fhal I fay ? a glaffe of common glafle, 
 
 Which gliftreth bright, and fhewes a feemely mew, 
 
 Is not enough, the days are paft and gon, 
 
 That Berral glaffe, with foyles of louely brown, 
 
 Might ferue to mew, a feemely fauord face. 
 
 That age is deade, and vanifht long ago, 
 
 Which thought that fteele, both trufly was and true, 
 
 And needed not, a foyle of contraries, 
 
 But fhewde al things, euen as they were in deede. 
 
 In fteade whereof, our curious yeares can finde 
 
 The chriftal glas, which glimfeth braue and bright, 
 
 And fhewes the thing, much better than it is, 
 
 Beguylde with foyles, of fundry fubtil fights, 
 
 So that they feeme, and couet not to be. 
 
 This is the caufe (beleue me now my Lorde) 
 That Realmes do rewe, from high profperity,
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 55 
 
 That kings decline, from princely gouernment, 
 That Lords do lacke, their aunceflors good wil, 
 That knights confume, their patrimonie ftill, 
 That gentlemen, do make the merchant rife, 
 That plowmen begge, and craftefmen cannot thriue, 
 That clergie quayles, and hath final reuerence, 
 That laymen liue, by mouing mifchiefe Mil, 
 That courtiers thriue, at latter Lammas day, 
 That officers, can fcarce enrich their heyres, 
 That Souldiours flerue, or prech at Tiborne crofle, 
 That lawyers buye, and purchafe deadly hate, 
 That merchants clyme, and fal againe as faft, 
 That roysters brag, aboue their betters rome, 
 That ficophants, are counted iolly guefls, 
 That Lais leades a Ladies life alofte, 
 And Lucrece lurkes, with fobre bafhful grace. 
 
 This is the caufe (or elfe my Muze mistakes) 
 
 That things are thought, which neuer yet were wrought, 
 
 And caftels buylt, aboue in lofty fkies, 
 
 Which neuer yet, had good foundation. 
 
 And that the fame may feme no feined dreame, 
 
 But words of worth, and worthy to be wayed, 
 
 I haue prefumde, my Lord for to prefent 
 
 With this poore glaffe, which is of truflie Steele, 
 
 And came to me, by wil and teftament 
 
 Of one that was, a Glaffemaker in deede. 
 
 Lucylius, this worthy man was namde, A famous 
 
 I 1 , -n rr old Satyfl- 
 
 Who at his death, bequeathd the chnftal glaffe, cai Poete. 
 To fuch as loue, to feme but not to be, 
 And vnto thofe, that loue to fee themfelues, 
 How foule or fayre, foeuer that they are, 
 He gan bequeath, a glaffe of truflie Steele, 
 Wherein they may be bolde alwayes to looke, 
 Bycaufe it fhewes, all things in their degree. 
 And fince myfelfe (now pride of youth is pad)
 
 56 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Uo loue to be, and let al feeming pafle, 
 Since I defire, to fee my felfe in deed, 
 Not what I would, but what I am or mould, 
 Therfore I like this trustie glaffe of Steele. 
 
 Wherein I fee, a frolike fauor frounst *}; 
 
 With foule abufe, of lawlefle lufl in youth : seife. 
 Wherein I fee, a Sampfons grim regarde Alexander 
 Difgraced yet with Alexanders bearde : magnus 
 
 Wherein I fee, a corps of comely fhape smli bm 
 ( And fuch as might befeeme thecourte fullwel) beard - 
 Is caft at heele, by courting al to foone : He which 
 Wherein I fee, a quicke capacitye, bSLfmens 
 
 Berayde with blots of light Inconstancie : fe " lts . shal 
 Anagefufpecl, bycaufe of youthes mifdeedes. not^for- 
 A poets brayne, poffeft with layes of loue : g vvnJim 
 A Ccefars minde, and yet a Codrus might, perfections. 
 A Souldiours hart, fupprefl with feareful doomes : 
 A Philofopher, foolifhly fordone. 
 And to be playne, I fee my felfe fo playne, 
 And yet fo much vnlike that moft I feemde, 
 As were it not, that Reafon ruleth me, 
 I mould in rage, this face of mine deface, 
 And caft this corps, downe headlong in difpaire, 
 Bycaufe it is, fo farre vnlike it felfe. 
 
 And therwithal, to comfort me againe, 
 
 I fee a world, of worthy gouernment, weTt^ 
 
 A common welth, with policy fo rulde, 
 
 As neither lawes are fold, nor Justice bought, 
 
 Nor riches fought, vnleffe it be by right. 
 
 No crueltie, nor tyrannic can raigne, 
 
 No right reuenge, doth rayfe rebellion, 
 
 No fpoyles are tane, although the fword preuaile, 
 
 No ryot fpends, the coyne of common welth, 
 
 No rulers hoard, the countries treafure vp, 
 
 No man growes riche, by fubtilty nor fleight :
 
 woe. 
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 57 
 
 All people dreade, the magistrates decree, 
 And al men feare, the fcourge of mighty loue. 
 Lo this (my lord) may wel deferue the name, 
 Of fuch a lande, as milke and hony flowes. 
 And this I fee, within my glafle of Steel, 
 Set forth euen fo, by Solon (worthy wight) 
 Who taught king Crcefus, what it is to feme, 
 And what to be, by proofe of happie end. 
 The like Lycurgus, Lacedemon king, 
 Did fet to mew, by viewe of this my glafle, 
 And left the fame, a mirour to behold, 
 To euery prince, of his pofterity. 
 
 But now (aye me) the glafing chriftal glafle 
 Doth make vs thinke, that realmes and townes are rych 
 Where fauor fways, thefentence of the law, Common 
 Where al is rime, that cometh to the net, 
 Where mighty power, doth ouer rule the right, 
 Where iniuries, do fofler fecret grudge, 
 Where bloudy fword, maks euery booty prize, 
 Where banquetting, is compted comly cod, 
 Where officers grow rich by princes pens, 
 Where purchafe commes, by couyn and deceit, 
 And no man dreads, but he that cannot fhift, 
 Nor none ferue God, but only tongtide men. 
 
 Againe I fee, within my glafle of Steele, 
 
 But foure estates, to ferue eche country Soyle, 
 
 The King, the Knight, the Pefant, and the Priefl. 
 
 The King mould care for al the fubiec"les {till, 
 
 The Knight mould fight, for to defende the fame, 
 
 The Peafant he, mould labor for their eafe, 
 
 And Priefls fhuld pray, for them and for themfelues. 
 
 But out alas, fuch mifls do bleare our eyes, 
 And christal glofle, doth glider fo therwith, 
 That Kings conceiue, their care is wonderous Kings, 
 great.
 
 $8 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 When as they beat, their bufie reftles braynes, 
 To maintaine pompe, and high triumphant fights, i 
 To fede their fil, of daintie delicates, 2 
 
 To glad their harts, with fight of pleafant fports, 3 
 To fil their eares, with found of instruments, 4 
 
 To breake with bit, the hot coragious horfe, 5 
 
 To deck their haules, with fumpteous cloth of gold, 6 
 To cloth themfelues, with filkes of ftraunge deuife, 7 
 To fearch the rocks, for pearles and pretious flones, 8 
 To delue the ground, for mines of gliftering gold : 9 
 And neuer care, to maynteine peace and reft, 
 To yeld reliefe, where needy lacke appears, 
 To (lop one eare, vntil the poore man fpeake, 
 To feme to fleepe, when luflice ftill doth wake, 
 To gard their lands, from fodaine fword and fier, 
 To feare the cries of giltles fuckling babes, 
 Whofe ghofts may cal, for vengeance on their bloud, 
 And ftirre the wrath, of mightie thundring loue. 
 
 I fpeake not this, by any englifh king, 
 Nor by our Queene, whofe high forfight prouids, 
 That dyre debate, is fledde to foraine Realmes, 
 Whiles we inioy the golden fleece of peace. 
 But there to turne my tale, from whence it came, 
 In olden dayes, good kings and worthy dukes, 
 (Who fawe themfelues, in glaffe of trufty Steele) 
 Contented were, with pompes of little pryce, 
 And fet their thoughtes, on regal gouernement. 
 
 An order was, when Rome did florim mofl, V 
 That no man might triumph in (lately wife, S 
 But fuch as had, with blowes of bloudy blade 
 Fiue thoufand foes in foughten field foredone. 
 Now he that likes, to loke in Christal glafle, 
 May fee proud pomps, in high triumphant wife, 
 Where neuer blowe, was delt with enemie. 
 
 When Sergius, deuifed firft the meane
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 59 
 
 To pen vp fifhe, within the fwelling floud, 
 And fo content his mouth with daintie fare, 
 Then followed fast, exceffe on Princes hordes, 
 And euery difli, was chargde with new conceits, 
 To pleafe the tafte, of vncontented mindes. 
 But had he feene, the flreine of flraunge deuife, 
 Which Epicures, do now adayes inuent, 
 To yeld good fmacke, vnto their daintie tongues : 
 Could he conceiue, how princes paunch is fillde 
 With fecret caufe, of fickenefle (oft) vnfeene, 
 Whiles luil defires, much more than nature craues, 
 Then would he fay, that al the Romane cofl 
 Was common tram, compard to fundrie Sauce 
 Which princes vfe, to pamper Appetite. 
 
 O Christal Glafle, thou fettefl things to mew, 
 Which are (God knoweth) of little worth in dede. 
 Al eyes behold, with eagre deepe defire, 3 
 
 The Faulcon flye, the grehounde runne his courfe, 
 The bayted Bui, and Beare at ftately (lake, 
 Thefe Enterluds, thefe newe Italian fportes, 
 And euery gawde, that glads the minde of man : 
 But fewe regard, their needy neighbours lacke, 
 And fewe beholde, by contemplation, 
 The ioyes of heauen, ne yet the paines of hel. 
 Fewe loke to lawe, but al men gaze on luft. 
 
 A fwete confent, of Muficks facred found, 4 
 
 Doth rayfe our mindes, (as rapt) al vp on high, 
 But fweeter foundes, of concorde, peace, and loue, 
 Are out of tune, and iarre in euery floppe. 
 
 To toffe and turne, the flurdie trampling flede, 5 
 
 To bridle him, and make him meete to ferue, 
 Deferues (no doubt) great commendation. 
 But fuch as haue, their ftables ful yfraught, 
 With pampred lades, ought therwithal to wey, 
 What great exceffe, vpon them may be fpent, 
 How many pore, (which nede nor brake nor bit)
 
 60 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Might therwith al, in godly wife be fedde, Dut. ia. 
 And kings ought not, fo many horfe to haue. 
 
 The fumpteous houfe, declares the princes flate, 6 
 But vaine exceffe, bewrayes a princes faults. 
 
 Our bumbaft hofe, our treble double ruffes, 7 
 
 Our futes of Silke, our comely garded capes, 
 Our knit filke flockes, and fpanifh lether fhoes, 
 (Yea veluet ferues, ofttimes to trample in) 
 Our plumes, our fpangs, and al our queint aray, 
 Are pricking fpurres, prouoking filthy pride, 
 And fnares (vnfeen) which leade a man to hel. 
 
 How Hue the Mores, which fpurne at gliftring perle, 8 
 And fcorne the cofts, which we do holde fo deare ? 
 How ? how but wel ? and weare the precious pearle 
 Of peerleffe truth, amongft them publifhed, 
 (VVhich we enioy, and neuer wey the worth.) 
 They would not then, the fame (like vs) defpife, 
 VVhich (though they lacke) they hue in better wife 
 Than we, which holde, the worthies pearle fo deare. 
 But glittring gold, which many yeares lay hidde, 
 Til gredy mindes, gan fearch the very guts 
 Of earth and clay, to finde out fundrie moulds 
 (As redde and white, which are by melting made 
 Bright gold and filuer, mettals of mifchiefe) 
 Hath now enflamde, the nobleft Princes harts 
 With foulefl fire, of filthy Auarice, 
 And feldome feene, that kings can be content 
 To kepe their bounds, which their forefathers left : 
 What caufeth this, but greedy golde to get? 
 Euen gold, which is, the very caufe of warres, 
 The neaft of ftrife, and nourice of debate, 
 The barre of heauen, and open way to hel. 
 
 (Squires 
 
 But is this flrange ? when Lords when Knightes and 
 (Which ought defende, the Mate of common welth) 
 Are not afrayd to couet like a King ?
 
 THE STEEL GLAS, 61 
 
 blinde defire : oh high afpiring harts. 
 
 The country Squire, doth couet to be Knight, Knightes. 
 The Knight a Lord, the Lord an Erie or a Duke, 
 The Duke a King, the King would Monarke be, 
 And none content, with that which is his own. 
 Yet none of thefe, can fee in Chriflal glaffe 
 (Which glistereth bright, and bleares their gafmg eyes) 
 How euery life, beares with him his difeafe. 
 But in my glaffe, which is of trustie fleele, 
 
 1 can perceiue, how kingdomes breede but care, 
 How Lordfhip Hues, with lots of leffe delight, 
 (Though cappe and knee, do feeme a reuerence, 
 And courtlike life, is thought an other heauen) 
 Than common people finde in euery coafl. 
 
 The Gentleman, which might in countrie keepe 
 A plenteous boorde, and feed the fatherleffe, 
 VVith pig and goofe, with mutton, beefe and veale, 
 ( Yea now and then, a capon and a chicke) 
 Wil breake vp houfe, and dwel in market townes, 
 A loytring life, and like an Epicure. 
 
 But who (meane while) defends the common welth ? 
 Who rules the flocke, when fheperds fo are fled ? 
 Who flayes the flaff, which fhuld vphold the ftate ? 
 Forfoth good Sir, the Lawyer leapeth in, 
 Nay rather leapes, both ouer hedge and ditch, 
 And rules the rod, but fewe men rule by right. 
 
 O Knights, O Squires, O Gentle blouds yborne, 
 You were not borne, al onely for your felues : 
 Your countrie claymes, fome part of al your paines. 
 There fhould you Hue, and therein mould you toyle, 
 To hold vp right, and banifli cruel wrong, 
 To helpe the pore, to bridle backe the riche, 
 To punifh vice, and vertue to aduaunce, 
 To fee God fervde, and Belzcbub fuppreft. 
 You mould not truft, lieftenaunts in your rome, 
 And let them fway, the fcepter of your charge, 
 Whiles you (meane while) know fcarcely what is don, 
 Nor yet can yeld, accompt if you were callde.
 
 62 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 The flately lord, which woonted was to kepe 
 
 A court at home, is now come vp to courte, 
 
 And leaues the country for a common prey, 
 
 To pilling, polling, brybing, and deceit : 
 
 (Al which his pretence might haue pacified, 
 
 Or elfe haue made offenders fmel the fmoke.) 
 
 And now the youth which might haue ferued him, 
 
 In comely wife, with countrey clothes yclad, 
 
 And yet therby bin able to preferre 
 
 Vnto the prince, and there to feke aduance : 
 
 Is faine to fell, his landes for courtly cloutes, 
 
 Or elfe fits ftill, and liueth like a loute, 
 
 (Yet of thefe two, the laft fault is the leffe :) 
 
 And fo thofe imps which might in time haue fprong 
 
 Alofte (good lord) and fervde to fhielde the flate, 
 
 Are either nipt, with fuch vntimely frofts, 
 
 Or elfe growe crookt, bycaufe they be not proynd. 
 
 Thefe be the Knights, which (hold defend the land, 
 And thefe be they, which leaue the land at large. 
 Yet here percafe, it wilbe thought I roue 
 And runne aflray, befides the kings high way, 
 Since by the Knights, of whom my text doth tell 
 (And fuch as fhew, mod perfecl in my glaffe) 
 Is ment no more, but worthy Souldiours 
 Whofe fkil in armes, and long experience 
 Should dill vphold the pillers of the worlde. 
 Yes out of doubt, this noble name of Knight, 
 May comprehend, both Duke, Erie, lorde, Knight, 
 Yea gentlemen, and euery gentle borne. (Squire, 
 
 But if you wil, conftraine me for to fpeake 
 What fouldiours are, or what they ought to be 
 (And I my felfe, of that profefsion) 
 I fee a crew, which glister in my glaffe, 
 The braueft bande, that euer yet was fene : 
 Behold behold, where Pompey commes before, 
 Where Manlius, and Marius infue,
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 63 
 
 ALmilius, and Curius I fee, 
 
 Palamedes, and Fabius maximus, 
 
 And eke their mate, Epaminondas loe, 
 
 Protefilaus and Phocyan are not farre, 
 
 Pericles (lands, in rancke amongfl the reft, 
 
 Arijlomenes, may not be forgot, 
 
 Vnleffe the list, of good men be difgrast. 
 
 Behold (my lord) thefe fouldiours can I fpie 
 Within my glaffe, within my true Steele glafle. 
 
 I fee not one therein, which feekes to heape 
 
 A world of pence, by pinching of dead paves, Couetou* 
 
 And fo beguiles, the prince in time of nede, Soldl u rs 
 
 When mufter day, and foughten fielde are odde. 
 
 Since Pompey did, enrich the common heaps, 
 
 ^</Paulus he, (ALm\\ms fiirnamed) 
 
 Returnde to Rome, no richer than he went, 
 
 Although he had, fo many lands fubdued, 
 
 And brought fuch treafure, to the common chejls^ 
 
 That fourfcore yeres, the Jlate was (after) free 
 
 From greuous taske, and impofition. 
 
 Yea fince againe, good Marcus Curius, 
 
 Thought jacriledge, himfelfefor to adtiannce^ 
 
 And fee his fouldiours, pore or line in lacke 
 
 I fee not one, within this glaffe of mine, more' "" 
 
 Whofe fethers flaunt, and flicker in the winde, braue then 
 As though he were, all onely to be markt, 
 When fimple fnakes, which go not halfe fo gay, 
 Can leaue him yet a furlong in the field : 
 And when the pride, of all his peacockes plumes, 
 Is daunted downe, with daflard dreadfulnefle. 
 And yet in towne, he ietted euery flreete, 
 As though the god of warres (euen Mars himfelf) 
 Might wel (by him) be liuely counterfayte, 
 Though much more like, the coward Conjlantine. 
 I fee none fuch, (my Lorde) I fee none fuch,
 
 64 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Since Phocion, which was in deede a Mars 
 
 And one which did, much more than he wold vaunt, 
 
 Contented was to be but homely clad. 
 
 And Marius, (whofe conjlant hart could bide 
 
 The very vaines, ofhisforweariedlegges 
 
 To be both cut, and caruedfrom his corps') 
 
 Could neueryet, contented be tofpetid, 
 
 One idle groate, in clothing nor in cates. 
 
 I fee not one, (my Lord) I fee not one Soidiours 
 
 Which {lands fomuch, vpon his paynted Sown 
 
 fheath long con- 
 
 ( By caufe he hath,perchaunce akB alley n bene STsenilce) 
 
 And loytered, fmce then in idleneffe) o ^"^ 
 
 That heaccompts,no Soldiour but himfelfe, a i other* 6 
 
 Nor one that can, defpife the learned brayne, SLlt'and 
 
 Which ioyneth reading with experience. especially 
 
 Since Palamedes, andVlittes both, learned? 
 
 Where much ejleemed for their pollicies 
 
 Although they were not thought long trained men. 
 
 Epamynondas, eke was much ejleemde 
 
 Whofe Eloquence, was fuch in all refpefls, 
 
 As gaue no place, vnto his manly hart. 
 
 And Fabius,fttrnamed Maximus, 
 
 Could toy me fuch learning, with experience, 
 
 As made his name, more famous than the refl. 
 
 Thefe bloudy beafls, apeare not in my glaffe, Soidiours 
 Which cannot rule, their fword in furious rage, "f t r h ou l t ' el 
 Nor haue refpecle, to age nor yet to kinde : any re - 
 Butdownegoeth al, where they get vpper hand. gard- 
 Whofe greedy harts fo hungrie are to fpoyle, 
 That few regard, the very wrath of God, 
 Which greeued is, at cries of giltleffe bloud. 
 Pericles was, a famous man ofwarre, 
 And viftor eke, in nine great foughten fields t 
 Wherof he was the general in charge. 
 Yet at his death he rather did reioyce
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 6$ 
 
 In clemencie, than bloudy viftorie. 
 
 Be flill (quoth he) you graue Athenians, 
 
 Who whifpered, and tolde his valiant faffs) 
 
 You haue forgot ', my greatefl glorie got. 
 
 For yet (by me, nor mine occafiori) 
 
 Was neuer fene, a mourning garment worne. 
 
 O noble words, wel worthy golden writ. 
 
 Beleue me (Lord) a fouldiour cannot haue 
 
 Too great regarde, whereon his knife fhould cut. 
 
 Ne yet the men, which wonder at their wounds, 
 And fhewe theirfcarres toeuerycommerby, Br. lgg ers 
 Dareoncebefeene,within myglaffeof Steele, bc? 
 For fo the faults, of Thrafo and his trayne, of their 
 (Whom Terence told, to be but bragging brutes) vvc 
 Might fone appeare, to euery fkilful eye. 
 .Bolde Manlius, could clofe and wel conuey 
 ful thirtie wounds, (and three) vpon his head. 
 Yet neuer made, nor bones nor bragges therof. 
 
 What fhould I fpeake, of drunken Soldiours? Drunken 
 Or lechers lewde, which fight for filthy luft ? ^us'sou'' 
 Of whom that one, can fit and bybbe his fil, diours. 
 Confume his coyne, (which might good corage yeld, 
 To fuch as march, and moue at his commaunde) 
 And makes himfelfe, a worthy mocking flocke 
 Which might deferue, (by fobre life) great laude. 
 That other dotes, and driueth forth his dayes 
 In vaine delight, and foule concupifcence, 
 When works of weight, might occupie his hedde. 
 Yea therwithal, he puts his owne fonde heade 
 Vnder the belt, of fuch as fhould him ferue, 
 And fo becoms, example of much euil, 
 Which mould haue fervde, as lanterne of good life 
 And is controlde, whereas he fhould commaund. 
 Augujlus Ccefar, he which might haue made 
 Both feasts and banquets brauely as the beft, 
 Was yet content (in campe) with homely cates, 
 And feldome dranke his wine vnwatered.
 
 66 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Ariflomenes, dayned to defende 
 His dames of prize, whom he in warres had won, 
 And rather chofe, to die in their defence, 
 Then filthy men, mould foyle their chaflitie. 
 This was a wight, wel worthy fame and prayfe. 
 
 O Captayns come, and Souldiours come apace, 
 Behold my glaffe, and you mall fee therin, 
 Proud Craffus bagges, confumde by couetife, 
 Great Alexander, drounde in drunkenneffe, 
 Ccefar and Pompey, fplit with priuy grudge, 
 Brennus beguild, with lightneffe of beliefe, 
 Cleomenes, by ryot not regarded, 
 Vefpafian, difdayned for deceit, 
 Demetrius, light fet by for his luft, 
 Whereby at laft, he dyed in prifon pent. 
 
 Hereto percafe, fome one man will alledge, 
 That Princes pence, are purfed vp fo c'ofe, 
 And faires do fall fo feldome in a yeare, 
 That when they come, prouifion muft be made 
 To fende the froft, in hardeft winter nights. 
 
 Indeede I finde, within this glaffe of mine, Vngratef 
 
 Iit/linian, that proude vngrateful prince, Princes. 
 
 Which made to begge, bold Bclifarius 
 
 His trustie man, which had fo ftoutly fought 
 
 In his defence, with evry enimy. 
 
 And Scypio, condemnes the Romaine rule, 
 
 Which fuffred him (that had fo truely ferued) 
 
 To leade pore life, at his (Lyntemum) ferme, 
 
 Which did deferue, fuch worthy recompence. 
 
 Yea herewithal, mofl Souldiours of our time, 
 
 Beleeue for truth, that proude hiflinian 
 
 Did neuer die, without good ftore of heyres. 
 
 And Romanes race, cannot be rooted out, 
 
 Such yffewe fprings, of fuch vnplefant budds, 
 
 Eut flial I fay ? this leffon learne of me,
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 67 
 
 When drumsare dumb, and found not dub adub,] 
 Then be thou eke, as rnewet as a mayde dim* 
 (I preach this fermon but to fouldiours) * 
 
 And learne to Hue, within thy bravries bounds, peace. 
 Let not the Mercer, pul thee by the fleeue 
 For futes of filke, when cloth may ferue thy turne, 
 Let not thy fcores, come robbe thy needy purfe, 
 Make not the catchpol, rich by thine arrest. 
 
 Art thou a Gentle ? Hue with gentle friendes, 
 Which wil be glad, thy companie to haue, 
 If manhoode may, with manners well agree. 
 
 Art thou a feruing man ? then ferue againe, 
 And flint to fleale as common fouldiours do. 
 
 Art thou a craftfman ? take thee to thine arte, 
 And call off flouth, which loytreth in the Campes. 
 
 Art thou a plowman preffed for a fhift? 
 Then learne to clout, thine old caft cobled fhoes, 
 And rather bide, at home with barly bread, 
 Than learne to fpoyle, as thou haft feene fome do. 
 
 Of truth (my friendes, and my companions eke) 
 Who lufl, by vvarres to gather lawful welth, 
 And fo to get, a right renoumed name, 
 Muft call afide, al common trades of warre, 
 And learne to Hue, as though he knew it not. 
 
 Well, thus my Knight hath held me al to long. 
 
 Bycaufe he bare, fuch compaffe in my glaffe. 
 
 High time were then, to turne my wery pen, 
 
 Vnto the Peafant comming next in place. 
 
 And here to write, the fumme of my conceit, 
 
 I do not meane, alonely husbandmen, 
 
 Which till the ground, which dig, delve, mow and fowe, 
 
 Which fwinke and fweate, whiles we do fleepe and 
 
 And ferch the guts of earth, for greedy gain, [fnort
 
 68 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 But he that labors any kind of way. Peasant. 
 
 To gather gaines, and to enrich himfelfe, 
 
 By King, by Knight, by holy helping Priefls, 
 
 And al the reft, that Hue in common vvelth, 
 
 (So that his gaines, by greedy guyles be got) 
 
 Him can I compt, a Peafant in his place. strange 
 
 All officers, all aduocates at lawe, Peasants. 
 
 Al men of arte, which get goodes greedily, 
 
 Muft be content, to take a Peafants rome. 
 
 A ftrange deuife, and fure my Lord wil laugh, 
 
 To fee it fo, defgefted in degrees. 
 
 But he which can, in office drudge, and droy, 
 
 And craue of al, (although euen now a dayes, 
 
 Moft officers, commaund that fhuld be cravde) Officen. 
 
 He that can fhare, from euery pention payde 
 
 A Peeter peny weying halfe a pounde, 
 
 He that can plucke, fir Bennet by the fleeue, 
 
 And finde a fee, in his pluralitie, 
 
 He that can winke, at any foule abufe, 
 
 As long as gaines, come trouling in thervvith, 
 
 Shal fuch come fee themfelues in this my glaffe ? 
 
 Or fhal they gaze, as godly good men do ? 
 
 Yea let them come : but fhal I tell you one thing ? 
 
 How ere their gownes, be gathered in the backe, 
 
 With organe pipes, of old king Henries clampe, 
 
 How ere their cappes, be folded with a flappe, 
 
 How ere their beards, be clipped by the chinne, 
 
 How ere they ride, or mounted are on mules, 
 
 I compt them worfe, than harmeles homely hindes, 
 
 Which toyle in dede, to ferue our common vfe. 
 
 Strange tale to tel : all officers be blynde, 
 And yet their one eye, fharpe as Lincens fight, 
 That one eye winks, as though it were but blynd, 
 That other pries and peekes in euery place. 
 Come naked neede ? and chance to do amifle ? 
 He fhal be fure, to drinke vpon the whippe. 
 But priuie gaine, (that bribing bufie wretch)
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 69 
 
 Can finde the meanes, to creepe and cowch fo low, 
 As officers, can neuer fee him flyde, 
 Nor heare the trampling of his flealing fleppes. 
 He comes (I thinke,) vpon the blinde fide fl.il. 
 
 Thefe things (my Lord) my glaffe now fets to mew, 
 
 Whereas long fince, all officers were feene 
 
 To be men made, out of another moulde. 
 
 Epamynond) of whome I fpake before 
 
 (Which was long time, an officer in Thcbef) 
 
 And toylde in peace, as wel as fought in warre, 
 
 Would neuer take, or bribe, or rich reward. 
 
 And thus he fpake, to fuch as fought his helpe : 
 
 If it be good, (quoth he) that you defire, 
 
 Then wil I do, it for the vertues fake : 
 
 If it be badde, no bribe can me infecle. There 
 
 If fo it be, for this my common weale, luc^f- 
 
 Then am I borne, and bound by duetie both ficers - 
 
 To fee it done, withouten furder words. 
 
 But if it be, vnprofitable thing, 
 
 And might empaire, offende, or yeld anoy 
 
 Vnto the ftate, which I pretende to ftay, 
 
 Then al the gold (quoth he) that growes on earth 
 
 Shal neuer tempt, my free confent thereto. 
 
 How many now, wil treade Zeleucus fleps ? 
 Or who can byde, Cambyfes cruel dome ? 
 Cruel ? nay iuft, (yea fofte and peace good fir) 
 For luftice fleepes, and Troth is iefted out. 
 
 O that al kings, would (Alexander like) 
 
 Hold euermore, one finger flreight ftretcht out, 
 
 To thrust in eyes, of all their mafter theeues. 
 
 False 
 
 But Brutus died, without posteritie, 
 
 And Marcus Craffus had none iffue male, 
 
 Cicero dipt, vnfene out of this world, 
 
 With many mo, which pleaded romaine pleas, Aduocau. 
 
 And were content, to vfe their eloquence,
 
 70 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 In maintenance, of matters that were good. 
 
 Demoflhenes, in Athens vfde his arte, 
 
 (Not for to heape, hirnfelfe great hourds of gold, 
 
 But) ft.il to flay, the towne from deepe deceite 
 
 Of Philips wyles, which had befieged it. 
 
 Where fhal we reade, that any of thefe foure 
 
 Did euer pleade, as carelefle of the trial? 
 
 Or who can fay, they builded fumpteoufly ? 
 
 Or wroong the weake, out of his own by wyles ? 
 
 They were 1 trovve) of noble houfes borne, 
 
 And yet content, to vfe their best deuoire, 
 
 In furdering, eche honeft harmelefle caufe. 
 
 They did not rowte (like rude vnringed fwine,) 
 
 To roote nobilitie from heritage. 
 
 They flood e content, with gaine of glorious fame, 
 
 (Bycaufe they had, refpedl to equitie) 
 
 To leade a life, like true Philofophers. 
 
 Of all the brittle bearded Aduocates 
 
 That euer lovde their fees aboue the caufe, 
 
 I cannot fee, (fcarce one) that is fo bolde 
 
 To fhewe his face, and fayned Phifnomie 
 
 In this my glaffe : but if he do (my Lorde) 
 
 He fhewes himfelfc, to be by very kinde 
 
 A man which meanes, at euery time and tide, 
 
 To do fmal right, but fure to take no wrong. 
 
 And matter Merchant, he whofetrauaile ought Merchants. 
 Commodioufly, to doe his countrie good, 
 And by his toyle, the fame for to enriche, 
 Can finde the meane, to make Monopolyes 
 Of euery ware, that is accompted flrange. 
 And feeds the vaine, of courtiers vaine defires 
 Vntil the court, haue courtiers cafl at heele, 
 Quia non habent veftes Nuptiales. 
 
 O painted fooles, whofe harebrainde heads muft haue 
 More clothes attones, than might become a king : 
 For whom the rocks, in forain Realmes muft. fpin, 
 For whom they carde, for whom they weaue their webbes
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 71 
 
 For whom no wool, appeareth fine enough, 
 
 (I fpeake not this by englifh courtiers 
 
 Since englifh wool, was euer thought most worth) 
 
 For whom al feas, are toffed to and fro, 
 
 For whom thefe purples come from Perjla, 
 
 The crimofme, and liuely red from Jnde: 
 
 For whom foft filks, do fayle from Sericane, 
 
 And all queint costs, do come from fardefl confls : 
 
 Whiles in meane while, that worthy Emperour, August. 9 
 
 Which rulde the world, and had all welth at wil, 
 
 Could be content, to tire his wearie wife, 
 
 His daughters and, his niepces euerychone, 
 
 To fpin and worke the clothes that he fhuld weare, 
 
 And neuer carde, for filks or fumpteous cofl, 
 
 For cloth of gold, or tinfel figurie, 
 
 For Baudkin, broydrie, cutworks, nor conceits. 
 
 He fet the fhippes, of merchantmen on worke, 
 
 With bringing home, oyle, graine, and favrie fait 
 
 And fuch like wares, as ferued common vfe. 
 
 Yea for my life, thofe merchants were not woont 
 
 To lend their wares, at reafonable rate, 
 
 (To gaine no more, but Cento por cento,} 
 
 To teach yong men, the trade to fel browne paper, 
 
 Yea Morrice bells, and byllets too fometimes, 
 
 To make their coyne, a net to catch yong frye. 
 
 To binde fuch babes, in father Derbies bands, 
 
 To flay their fleps, by flatute Staples flaffe, 
 
 To rule yong royflers, with Recognifance^ 
 
 To read Arithmetickc once euery day, 
 
 In VVoodstreat, Bredflreat, and in Pultery 
 
 (Where fuch fchoolmaiflerskeepe their counting houfe) 
 
 To fede on bones, when flefh and fell is gon, 
 
 To keepe their byrds, ful clofe in caytiues cage, 
 
 (Who being brought, to libertie at large, 
 
 Might fing perchaunce, abroade, when funne doth mine 
 
 Of their mifhaps, and how their fethers fel) 
 
 Vntill the canker may their corple confume.
 
 7 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Thefe knackes (my lord) I cannot cal to minde, 
 
 Bycaufe they Ihewe not in my glafle of fleele. 
 
 But holla : here, I fee a wondrous fight, 
 
 I fee a fwarme, of Saints within my glafle : 
 
 Beholde, behold, I fee a fwarme in deede 
 
 Of holy Saints, which walke in comely wife, 
 
 Not deckt in robes, nor garnifhed with gold, 
 
 But fome vnfhod, yea fome ful thinly clothde, 
 
 And yet they feme, fo heauenly for to fee, 
 
 As if their eyes, were al of Diamonds, 
 
 Their face of Rubies, Saphires, and Iacin6ls, 
 
 Their comly beards, and heare, of filuer wiers. 
 
 And to be fhort, they feeme Angelycall. 
 
 What mould they be, (my Lord) what mould they be ? 
 
 O gratious God, I fee now what they be. 
 Thefe be my priefts, which pray for eviy (late, 
 Thefe be my priefts, deuorced from the world, Prk-st. 
 And wedded yet, to heauen and holynefle, 
 Which are not proude, nor couet to be riche. 
 Which go not gay, nor fede on daintie foode, 
 Which enuie not, nor knowe what malice meanes, 
 Which loth all lust, difdayning drunkenefle, 
 Which cannot faine, which hate hypocrifie. 
 Which neuer fawe, Sir Simonies deceits. 
 Which preach of peace, which carpe contentions, 
 Which loyter not, but labour al the yeare, 
 Which thunder threts, of gods mod greuous wrath, 
 And yet do teach, that mercie is in ftore. 
 
 Lo thefe (my Lord) be my good praying priefts, 
 Defcended from, Mdchyfedec by line 
 Cofens to Paule, to Peter, lames, and lohn, 
 Thefe be my priests, the feafning of the earth 
 Which wil not leefe, their Savrineffe, I trowe. 
 
 Not one of thefe (for twentie hundreth groats)
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 73 
 
 VVil teach the text, that byddes him take a wife, 
 And yet be combred with a concubine. 
 
 Not one of thefe, wil reade the holy write 
 Which doth forbid, all greedy vfurie, 
 And yet receiue, a fhilling for a pounde. 
 
 Not one of thefe, wil preach of patience, 
 And yet be found, as angry as a wafpe, 
 
 Not one of thefe, can be content to fit 
 In Tauerns, Innes, or Alehoufes all day, 
 But fpends his time, deuoutly at his booke. 
 
 Not one of thefe, will rayle at rulers wrongs, 
 And yet be blotted, with extortion. 
 
 Not one of thefe, will paint out worldly pride, 
 And he himfelfe, as gallaunt as he dare. 
 
 Not one of thefe, rebuketh auarice, 
 And yet procureth, proude pluralities. 
 
 Not one of thefe, reproueth vanitie 
 (Whiles he himfelfe, with hauke vpon his fift 
 And houndes at heele,) doth quite forget his text. 
 
 Not one of thefe, corrects contentions, 
 
 For trifling things : and yet will fue for tythes. 
 
 Not one of thefe (not one of thefe my Lord) 
 Wil be afhamde, to do euen as he teacheth. 
 
 My priefls haue learnt, to pray vnto the Lord, 
 And yet they truft not in their lyplabour. 
 
 My priefts can fafl, and vfe al abflinence, 
 From vice and fmne, and yet refufe no meats. 
 
 My priests can giue, in charitable wife, 
 And loue alfo, to do good almes dedes, 
 Although they truft, not in their owne deferts. 
 
 My prieftes can place, all penaunce in the hart, 
 VVithout regard, of outward ceremonies.
 
 74 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 My priefls can keepe, their temples vndefyled, 
 And yet dene, all Superstition. 
 
 Lo now my Lorde, what thinke you by my priefls ? 
 
 Although they were, the lafl that mewed themfelues, 
 
 I faide at firfl, their office was to pray, 
 
 And fmce the time, is fuch euen now a dayes, 
 
 As hath great nede, of prayers truely prayde, 
 
 Come forth my priefls, and I wil bydde your beades 
 
 I wil prefume, (although I be no priest) 
 
 To bidde you pray, as Paule and Peter prayde. 
 
 Then pray my priefls, yea pray to god himfelfe, The poets 
 
 That he vouchfafe, (euen for his Chrifles fake) Be 
 
 To giue his word, free paffage here on earth, 
 
 And that his church (which now is Militant) 
 
 May foone be fene, triumphant ouer all, 
 
 And that he deigne, to ende this wicked world, 
 
 Which walloweth ftil, in Sinks of filthy fmne. 
 
 Eke pray my priests, for Princes and for Kings, 
 Emperours, Monarks, Duks, and all eftates, For 
 
 Which fway the fworde, of royal gouernment, 
 (Of whom our Queene, which Hues without compare 
 Muft be the chiefe, in bydding of my beades, 
 Elfe I deferue, to lefe both beades, and bones) 
 That God giue light, vnto their noble mindes, 
 To maintaine truth, and therwith ftil to wey 
 That here they reigne, not onely for themfelues, 
 And that they be but flaues to common welth, 
 Since al their toyles, and all their broken fleeps 
 Shal fcant fuffize, to hold it flil vpright. 
 
 Tell fome (in Spaine) how clofe they kepe their clofets, 
 How felde the winde, doth blow vpon their cheeks, 
 While as (mene while) their funburnt futours fterue 
 And pine before, their proceffe be preferrde. 
 Then pray (my priefls) that god wil giue his grace, 
 To fuch a prince, his fault in time to mende. 
 
 Tel fome (in France) how much they loue to dance,
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 75 
 
 While futours daunce, attendaunce at the dore. 
 Yet pray (my priefls) for prayers princes mende. 
 
 Tel fome (in Portugale} how colde they be, 
 
 In fetting forth, of right religion : 
 
 Which more efleme, the prefent pleafures here, 
 
 Then flablifhing, of God his holy worde. 
 
 And pray (my Priefls) lead god fuch princes fpit, 
 
 And vomit them, out of his angrie mouth. 
 
 Tel fome (Italian} princes, how they winke 
 At (linking flewes, and fay they are (forfooth) 
 A remedy, to quench foule filthy luste : 
 When as (in dede they be the finkes of fmne. 
 And pray (my priests) that God wil not impute 
 Such wilful fa6ls, vnto fuch princes charge, 
 When he himfelfe, commaundeth euery man 
 To do none ill, that good may grow therby. 
 
 And pray likewife, for all that rulers be ?. r . al no : 
 
 T. i i !!/ bilitie and 
 
 By kings commaundes,as their heftenants here, counselors. 
 
 Al magiftrates, al councellours, and all 
 
 That fit in office or Authoritie. 
 
 Pray, pray, (my priefls) that neither loue nor mede 
 
 Do fway their minds, from furdering of right, 
 
 That they be not, too faintifh nor too fowre, 
 
 But beare the bridle, euenly betwene both, 
 
 That ftil they floppe, one eare to heare him fpeake, 
 
 Which is accufed, abfent as he is : 
 
 That euermore, they mark what moode doth moue 
 
 The mouth which makes, the information, 
 
 That faults forpafte (fo that they be not huge, 
 
 Nor do exceed, the bonds of loyaltie) 
 
 Do neuer quench, their charitable minde, 
 
 When as they fee, repentance hold the reines 
 
 Of heady youth, which wont to runne aflray. 
 
 That malice make, no manfion in their minds, 
 
 Nor enuy frete, to fee how vertue clymes. 
 
 The greater Birth, the greater glory fure, 
 
 If deeds mainteine, their aunceflors degree.
 
 l6 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Eke pray (my Priefls) for themandforyourfelues, ciergie? 
 
 For Bifhops, Prelats, Archdeanes, deanes, and Priefts 
 
 And al that preach, or otherwife profeffe 
 
 Gods holy word, and take the cure of foules. 
 
 Pray pray that you, and euery one of you, 
 
 Make walke vpright, in your vocation. 
 
 And that you fhine like lamps of perfect life, 
 
 To lende a light, and lanterne to our feete. 
 
 Say therwithal, that fome, (I fee them I 
 VVheras they fling, in Flounders all afarre, 
 For why my glaffe, wil (hew them as they be) 
 Do neither care, for God nor yet for deuill, 
 So libertie, may launch about at large. 
 
 And fome again (I fee them wel enough 
 
 And note their names, in Liegelatide where they lurke) 
 
 Vnder pretence, of holy humble harts 
 
 Would plucke adowne, al princely Dyademe. 
 
 Pray, pray (my priests) for thefe, they touch you neere. 
 
 Shrinke not to fay, that fome do (Romainelike) 
 
 Efleme their pall, and habyte ouermuche. 
 
 And therfore pray (my priefts) left pride preuaile. 
 
 Pray that the foules, of fundrie damned gofls, 
 
 Do not come in, and bring good euidence 
 
 Before the God, which iudgeth al mens thoughts, 
 
 Of fome whofe welth, made them neglect their charge 
 
 Til fecret fmnes (vntoucht) infecle their flocks 
 
 And bredde a fcab, which brought the (hep to bane. 
 
 Some other ranne, before the greedy woolfe, 
 
 And left the folde, vnfended from the fox 
 
 Which durft not barke, nor bawle for both theyr eares. 
 
 Then pray (my priefts) that fuch no more do fo. 
 
 Pray for the nources, of our noble Realme, 
 I meane the worthy Vniuerfities,
 
 THE STEEL GI AS. 77 
 
 (And Cantabridge, fhal haue the dignitie, 
 
 Wherof I was, vnworthy member once) 
 
 That they bring vp their babes in decent wife : 
 
 That Philofophy, fmel no fecret fmoke, For 
 
 Which Magike makes, in wicked myfleries : 
 
 That Logike leape, not ouer euery ftile, 
 
 Before he come, a furlong neare the hedge, 
 
 With curious Quids, to maintain argument. 
 
 That Sophiftrie, do not deceiue it felfe, 
 
 That Cofmography keepe his compaffe wel, 
 
 And fuch as be, Hifloriographers, 
 
 Truft not to much, in euery tallying tong, 
 
 Nor blynded be, by partialitie. 
 
 That Phificke, thriue not ouer faft by murder : 
 
 That Numbring men, in all their euens and odds 
 
 Do not forget, that only Vnitie 
 
 Vnmeafurable, infinite, and one. 
 
 That Geometric, meafure not fo long, 
 
 Til all their meafures out of meafure be : 
 
 That Mufike with, his heauenly harmonic, 
 
 Do not allure, a heauenly minde from heauen, 
 
 Nor fet mens thoughts, in worldly melodic, 
 
 Til heauenly Hierarchies be quite forgot : 
 
 That Rhetorick, learn e not to ouerreache : 
 
 That Poetrie, prefume not for to preache, 
 
 And bite mens faults, with Satyres corofmes, 
 
 Yet pamper vp hir owne with pulteffes : 
 
 Or that fhe dote not vppon Erato, 
 
 Which mould inuoke the good Caliope: 
 
 That Aflrologie, looke not ouer high, 
 
 And light (meane while) in euery pudled pit : 
 
 That Grammer grudge not at our englifh tong, 
 
 Bycaufe it (lands by Monofyllaba, 
 
 And cannot be declined as others are. 
 
 Pray thus (my priefls lor vniuerfities. 
 
 And if I haue forgotten any Arte, 
 
 Which hath bene taught, or exerciied there, 
 
 Pray you to god, the good be not abufde, 
 
 With glorious fhewe, of ouerloding skill.
 
 78 THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 Now thefe be pafl, (my priefts) yet fhal you pray 
 
 For common people, eche in his degree, or ^ he . 
 
 That God vouchfafe to graunt them al his grace. 
 
 Where mould I now beginne to bidde my beades ? 
 
 Or who fhal first be put in common place ? 
 
 My wittes be wearie, and my eyes are dymme, 
 
 I cannot fee who bed deferues the roome, 
 
 Stand forth good Peerce, thou plowman by thy name, 
 
 Yet fo the Sayler faith I do him wrong : 
 
 That one contends, his paines are without peare, 
 
 That other faith, that none be like to his, 
 
 In dede they labour both exceedingly. 
 
 But fince I fee no fhipman that can Hue 
 
 Without the plough, and yet I many fee 
 
 (Which Hue by lande) that neuer fawe the feas : 
 
 Therefore I fay, ftand forth Peerce plowman first, 
 
 Thou winft the roome, by verie worthineffe. 
 
 Behold him (priefts) and though he ftink of fweat 
 Difdaine him not : for fhal I tel you what ? The 
 Such clime to heauen, before the fhauen crownes. P 
 But how ? forfooth, with true humilytie. 
 Not that they hoord, their grain when it is cheape, 
 Nor that they kill, the calfe to haue the milke, 
 Nor that they fet, debate betwene their lords, 
 By earing vp the balks, that part their bounds : 
 Nor for becaufe, they can both crowche and creep 
 (The guilefulft men, that euer God yet made) 
 VVhen as they meane, mod mifchiefe and deceite, 
 Nor that they can, crie out on landelordes lowde, 
 And fay they racke, their rents an ace to high, 
 VVhen they themfelues, do fel their landlords lambe 
 For greater price, than ewe was wont be worth. 
 I fee you Peerce, my glaffe was lately fcowrde. 
 But for they feed, with frutes of their gret paines, 
 Both King and Knight, and priefts in cloyfter pent : 
 Therefore I fay, that fooner fome of them 
 Shal fcale the walles which leade vs vp to heauen, 
 Than cornfed beasts, whofe bellie is their God,
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 79 
 
 Although they preach, of more perfection. 
 
 And yet (my priefts) pray you to God for Pec/re, 
 AsPeera' can pinch, it out for him and you. 
 And if you haue a Paternq/ler fpare 
 Then dial you pray, for Saylers (God them fend 
 More mind of him, when as they come to lande, 
 For towarde fhipwracke, many men can pray) 
 That they once learne, to fpeake without a lye, 
 And meane good faith, without blafpheming othes : 
 That they forget, to fleale from euery fraight, 
 And for to forge, falfe cockets, free to paffe, 
 That manners make, them giue their betters place, 
 And vfe good words, though deeds be nothing gay. 
 
 But here me thinks, my priefts begin to frowne, 
 And fay, that thus they flial be ouerchargde, 
 To pray for al, which feme to do amiffe : 
 And one I heare, more faucie than the reft, 
 Which asketh me, when fhal our prayers end ? 
 I tel thee (priest) when fhoomakers make (hoes, 
 That are wel fowed, with neuer a ftich amiffe, 
 Aud vfe no crafte, in vttring of the fame : 
 When Taylours fleale, no fluffe from gentlemen, 
 V Vhen Tanners are, with Corners wel agreede, 
 And both fo dreffe their hydes, that we go dry. 
 when Cutlers leaue, to fel olde ruftie blades, 
 And hide no crackes, with foder nor deceit : 
 when tinkers make, no more holes than they founde, 
 when thatchers thinke, their wages worth their worke, 
 when colliers put, no duft into their facks, 
 when maltemen make, vs drink no firmentie, 
 when Dauie Diker diggs, and dallies not, 
 when fmithes fhoo horfes, as they would be mod, 
 when millers, toll not with a golden thumbe, 
 when bakers make, not barme beare price of wheat, 
 when brewers put, no bagage in their beere, 
 when butchers blowe, not ouer al their flefhe, 
 when horfecorfers, beguile no friends with lades,
 
 8o THE STEEL GLAS. 
 
 when weauers weight, is found in hufwiues web. 
 (But why dwel I, fo long among thefe lowts?) 
 
 When mercers make, more bones to fwere and lye, 
 When vintners mix, no water with their wine, 
 When printers paffe, none errours in their bookes, 
 When hatters vfe, to bye none olde caft robes, 
 When goldfmithes get, no gains by fodred crownes, 
 When vpholfters, fel fethers without duft, 
 When pewterers, infec"l no Tin with leade, 
 When drapers draw, no gaines by giuing day, 
 When perchmentiers, put in no ferret Silke, 
 When Surgeons heale, al wounds without delay. 
 (Turn thefe are toys, but yet my glas fheweth al.) 
 
 When purveyours, prouide not for themfelues, 
 When Takers, take no brybes, nor vfe no brags, 
 When cuftomers, conceale no covine vfde, 
 When Seachers fee, al corners in a fhippe, 
 (And fpie no pens by any fight they fee) 
 VVhen fhriues do ferue, al proceffe as they ought, 
 When baylifes drain, none other thing but flrays, 
 When auditours, their counters cannot change, 
 When proude furueyours, take no parting pens, 
 When Siluer flicks not on the Tellers ringers, 
 And when receiuers, pay as they receiue, 
 When al thefe folke, haue quite forgotten fraude. 
 
 (Againe (my priefts) a little by your leaue) 
 VVhen Sicophants, can finde no place in courte, 
 But are efpied, for Ecchoes, as they are, 
 W T hen royfters ruffle not aboue their rule, 
 Nor colour crafte, by fwearing precious coles : 
 When Fencers fees, are like to apes rewards, 
 A peece of breade, and therwithal a bobbe 
 VVhen Lays Hues, not like a ladies peare, 
 Nor vfeth art, in dying of hir heare. 
 When al thefe things, are ordred as they ought, 
 Aud fee themfelues, within my glafie of fteele, 
 Euen then (my priefts) may you make holyday,
 
 THE STEEL GLAS. 8l 
 
 And pray no more but ordinairie prayers. 
 
 And yet therin, I pray you (my good priests) 
 Pray ft.il for me, and for my Glaffe of fteele 
 That it (nor I) do any minde offend, 
 Bycaufe we mew, all colours in their kinde. 
 And pray for me, that (fince my hap is fuch 
 To fee men fo) I may perceiue myfelfe. 
 O worthy words, to encle my worthleffe verfe, 
 Pray for me Priefts, I pray you pray for me. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Tarn Marti, qu&m Mercurio.
 
 EPILOGVS. 
 
 Las (my lord) my haft, was al to hote, 
 
 I fhut my glaffe, before you gafde 
 your fill, 
 
 And at a glimfe, my feely felfe haue 
 fpied, 
 
 A ftranger trowpe, than any yet 
 were fene : 
 
 Beholde (my lorde) what monfters 
 
 muster here, 
 
 With Angels face, and harmefull helifh harts, 
 With fmyling lookes, and depe deceitful thoughts, 
 With tender skinnes, and flony cruel mindes, 
 With Healing ileppes, yet forward feete to fraude. 
 Behold, behold, they neuer ftande content, 
 With God, with kinde, with any helpe of Arte, 
 But curie their locks, with bodkins and with braids, 
 But dye their heare, with fundry fubtill Heights, 
 But paint and flicke, til fayrefl face be foule, 
 But bumbail, bolster, frifle, and perfume : 
 They marre with muske, the balme which nature made, 
 And dig for death, in dellicateft dimes. 
 The yonger forte, come pyping on apace, 
 In whittles made of fine enticing wood, 
 Til they haue caught, the birds for whom they bryded. 
 The elder forte, go {lately ftalking on, 
 And on their backs, they beare both land and fee, 
 Castles and Towres, revenewes and receits, 
 Lordfhips, and manours, fines, yea fermes and al. 
 What fhould thefe be ? (fpeake you my louely lord) 
 They be not men : for why? they haue no beards. 
 They be no boyes, which weare fuch fide long gowns. 
 They be no Gods, for al their gallant gloffe. 
 They be no diuels, (I trow) which feme fo faintifti. 
 W hat be they ? women ? masking in mens weedes ?
 
 THEEPILOGVE. 83 
 
 With dutchkin dublets, and with lerkins iaggde? 
 With Spanifh fpangs, and ruffes fet out of France, 
 With high copt hattes, and fathers flaunt a flaunt? 
 They be fo fure euen Wo to Men in dede. 
 Nay then (my lorde) let fhut the glaffe apace, 
 High time it were, for my pore Mufe to winke, 
 Since al the hands, al paper pen, and inke, 
 Which euer yet, this wretched world poffeft, 
 Cannot defcribe, this Sex m colours dewe, 
 No no (my Lorde) we gafed haue i.iough, 
 (And I too much, God pardon me therfore) 
 Better loke of, than loke an ace to farre : 
 And better mumme, than meddle ouermuch. 
 But if my Glaffe, do like my lonely lorde, 
 We wil efpie, fome funny Sommers day, 
 To loke againe, and fee fome femely fights. 
 Meane while, my Mufe, right humbly doth befech, 
 That my good lorde, accept this ventrous verfe, 
 Vntil my braines, may better fluffe deuife. 
 
 FINIS .- 
 
 Tarn Marti, quam Mercurio.
 
 The complayn t 
 of Ph ilomene. 
 
 An Elegye Compyled by 
 George Gascoigne 
 
 Efquire. 
 
 Tarn Marti) quam Mer curio. 
 
 IMPRINTED AT 
 
 London by Henrie Binne- 
 
 man for Richarde 
 
 Smith. 
 Anno Domini 1576. 
 
 ^^rc i "* i itTVrTT'''" r ^"k- .
 
 To the right honorable, my 
 
 fmguler good Lord, the L. Gray of 
 Wilton, Knight of the moft noble 
 
 order of the Garter. 
 
 Yght noble, when I had determined 
 with myfelf to write the Satire be- 
 fore recited (called the Steele Glaffe) 
 and had in myne Exordium (by al- 
 legoric) compared my cafe to that 
 of fayre Phylomene, abufed by the 
 bloudy king hir brother by lawe : I 
 called to minde that twelue or thir- 
 tene yearns paft, I had begonne an Elcgye or forrowe- 
 full fbng, called the Complainte of Phylomene, the 
 which I began too deuife riding by the high way be- 
 twene Chelmifford and London, and being ouertaken 
 with a fodaine dafh of Raine, I changed my copy, 
 and flroke ouer into the Deprofundis which is placed 
 amongfl my ocher Poefies, leuing the complaint of 
 Phylomene vnfinifhed : and fo it hath continued euer 
 fmce vntil this prefent moneth of April. 1575. when 
 I begonne my Steele Glaffe. And bycaufe I haue in 
 mine Exordium to the Steele Glaffe, begonne with the 
 Nightingales notes : therfore I haue not thought 
 amiffe now to finifh and pece vp the faide Complaint 
 of Philomene, obferuing neuertheleffe the fame deter- 
 minate inuention which I had propounded and be- 
 gonne (as is faide) twelue yeares nowe pad. The 
 which I prefume with the reft to prefent vnto your 
 honor, nothing doubting but the fame wil accept my 
 good entente therin. And I furder befeche that 
 your lordfhip wil voutfafe in reading therof, to geffe 
 (by change of ftyle) where the renewing of the verfe 
 may bee moft apparantly thought to begin. I wil no 
 furder trouble your honor with thefe rude lines, but 
 befech of the almightie long to preferue you to his 
 pleafure. From my pore houfe in Walkamftowe the 
 fixtenth of April 1575. 
 
 Your L, bounden and mojl affurcd 
 George Gaf coign e.
 
 PHILOMENE. 
 
 f\veet April, the meflenger to 
 May, 
 When hoonie drops, do melt in 
 
 golden fhowres, 
 When euery byrde, records hir 
 
 louers lay, 
 And wefterne windes, do fader forth 
 
 our floures, 
 Late in an euen, I walked out alone, 
 To heare the defcant of the Nightingale, 
 And as I ftoode, I heard hir make great moane, 
 Waymenting much, and thus (he tolde hir tale. 
 
 Thefe thriftles birds (quoth fhe) which fpend the day, 
 In needleffe notes, and chaunt withouten skil, 
 Are coflly kept, and finely fedde alway 
 With daintie foode, whereof they feede their fil. 
 But I which fpend, the darke and dreadful night, 
 in watch and ward, when thofe birds take their reft, 
 Forpine my felfe, that Louers might delight, 
 To heare the notes, which breake out of my brefle. 
 I leade a life, to pleafe the Loners minde, 
 (And though god vvot, my foode be light of charge, 
 Yet feely foule, that can no fauour finde) 
 I begge my breade, and feke for feedes at large. 
 The Throttle fhe, which makes the wood to ring 
 With fhryching lowde, that lothfome is to heare, 
 Is coftly kept, in cage : (O wondrous thing) 
 The Mauis eke, whofe notes are nothing cleare, 
 Now in good footh (quoth fhe) fometimes I wepe 
 To fee Tom Tyttimoufe, fo much fet by. 
 The Finch e, which fingeth neuer a note but peepe, 
 Is fedde afwel, nay better farre than I. 
 The Lennet and the Larke, they finge alofte, 
 And coumpted are, as Lordes in high degree. 
 The Brandlet faith, for fmging fweete and fofte, 
 (In hir conceit) there is none fuch as fhe.
 
 88 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 Canara byrds, come in to beare the bell, 
 
 And Goldfinches, do hope to get the gole : 
 
 The tatling Awbe doth pleafe fome fancie wel, 
 
 And fome like bed, the byrde as Black as cole. 
 
 And yet could I, if fo it were my minde, 
 
 For harmony, fet al thefe babes to fchole, 
 
 And fmg fuch notes, as might in euery kinde 
 
 Difgrace them quight, and make their corage coole 
 
 But mould I fo.? no no fo wil I not. 
 
 Let brutifh beads, heare fuch brute birds as thofe. 
 
 (For like to like, the prouerbe faith I wot) 
 
 And fhould I then, my cunning skil difclofe ? 
 
 For fuch vnkinde, as let the cuckowe flye, 
 
 To fucke mine eggs, whiles I fit in the thicke ? 
 
 And rather praife, the chattring of a pye, 
 
 Than hir that fings, with breft againfl a pricke ? 
 
 Nay let them go, to marke the cuckowes talke, 
 
 The iangling lay, for that becomes them wel. 
 
 And in the filent night then let them walke, 
 
 To heare the Owle, how fhe doth fhryche and yel. 
 
 And from henceforth, I wil no more constraine 
 
 My pleafant voice, to founde, at their requeft. 
 
 But fhrowd my felfe, in darkefome night and raine, 
 
 And learne to cowche, ful clofe vpon my neafl. 
 
 Yet if I chaunce, at any time (percafe) 
 
 To fing a note, or twaine for my difporte, 
 
 It ihalbe done, in fome fuch fecret place, 
 
 That fewe or none, may thervnto reforte. 
 
 Thefe flatterers, (in loue) which falfhood meane, 
 
 Not once aproch, to heare my pleafant fong. 
 
 But fuch as true, and ftedfast louers bene, 
 
 Let them come neare, for elfe they do me wrong. 
 
 And as I geffe, not many miles from hence, 
 
 There ftands a fquire, with pangs of forrow prefl, 
 
 For whom I dare, auowe (in his defence) 
 
 He is as true, (in Loue) as is the bed. 
 
 Him wil I cheare, with chaunting al this night : 
 And with that word, fhe gan to cleare hir throate. 
 But fuch a liueiy fong (now by this light)
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 89 
 
 Yet neuer hearde I fuch another note. 
 It was (thought me) fo pleafant and fo plaine, 
 Orphceiis harpe, was neuer halfe fo fweete, 
 Tereu, Tercu, and thus fhe gan to plaine, 
 Mod piteoufly, which made my hart to greeue, 
 
 Hir fecond note, w*sfy,fy,fy,fy,fy, 
 And that fhe did, in pleafant wife repeate, 
 With fweete reports, of heauenly harmonic, 
 But yet it feemd, hir gripes of griefe were greate. 
 For when fhe had, fo foong and taken breath, 
 Then mould you heare, hir heauy hart fo throbbe, 
 As though it had bene, ouercome with death, 
 And yet alwayes, in euery figh and fobbe, 
 
 She fhewed great skil, for tunes of vnifone, 
 Hir fug, lug, lug, (in griefe) had fuch a grace. 
 Then ftinted fhe, as if hir fong were done. 
 And ere that pafi, not ful a furlong fpace, 
 She gan againe, in melodic to melt, 
 And many a note, fhe warbled wondrous wel. 
 Yet can I not (although my hart mould fwelt) 
 Remember al, which hir fweete tong did tel. 
 
 But one ftrange note, I noted with the refl 
 And that faide thus : Nemefis, Netne/ls, 
 The which me thought, came boldly from hir breft, 
 As though fhe blamde, (therby) fome thing amiffe. 
 
 Short tale to make, hir finging founded fo, 
 
 And pleafde mine eares, with fuch varietie, 
 
 That (quite forgetting all the wearie wo, 
 
 Which I my felfe felt in my fantafie) 
 
 I floode afloynde, and yet therwith content, 
 
 Wifhing in hart that (fince I might aduant, 
 
 Of al hir fpeech to knowe the plaine entent, 
 
 Which grace hirfelfe, or elfe the Gods did graunt) 
 
 I might therwith, one furder fauor craue, 
 
 To vnderftand, what hir fwete notes might meane. 
 
 And in that thought, (my whole defire to haue)
 
 90 THE COMPLAINT OF PHILOMENE. 
 
 I fell on fleepe, as I on ftaffe did leane. 
 
 And in my flomber, had I fuch a fight. 
 
 As yet to thinke theron doth glad my minde. 
 
 Me thought I fawe a derling of delight, 
 
 A ftately Nimph, a dame of heauenly kinde. 
 
 Whofe glittring gite, fo glimfed in mine eyes, 
 
 As (yet) I not, what proper hew it bare, 
 
 Ne therewithal, my wits can wel deuife, 
 
 To whom I might hir louely lookes compare. 
 
 But trueth to tel, (for al hir fmyling cheere) 
 
 She caft fometimes, a grieuous frowning glance. 
 
 As who would fay : by this it may appeare, 
 
 That Infl reuenge, is Pr eft for euery chance, 
 
 In hir right hand, (which to and fro did fliake) 
 
 She bare a skourge, with many a knottie firing, 
 
 And in hir left, a fnaffle Bit or brake, 
 
 Beboft with gold, and many a gingling ring : 
 
 She came apace, and ftately did (he flay, 
 
 And whiles I feemd, amazed very much, 
 
 The courteous dame, thefe words to me did fay : 
 
 Sir Squire (quoth me) fince thy clefire is fuch, 
 
 To vnderflande, the notes of Phylomcnt, 
 
 (For fo fhe hight, whom thou calst Nightingale) 
 
 And what the founde, of euery note might meane, 
 
 Giue eare a while, and hearken to my tale. 
 
 The Gods are good, they heare the harty prayers, 
 Of fuch as craue without a craftie wil, 
 With fauour eke, they furder fuch affaires, 
 As tende to good, and meane to do none il. 
 And fince thy words, were grounded on defire, 
 Wherby much good, and little harme can growe, 
 They graunted haue, the thing thou didfl require, 
 And louingly, haue fent me here bylowe, 
 To paraphrafe, the piteous pleafant notes, 
 Which Phylomene, doth darkely fpend in fpring, 
 For he that wel, Dan Nafoes verfes notes, 
 Shall finde my words to be no fained thing. 
 Giue eare (fir Squire quoth fhe) and I wil, tel 
 Both what fhe was, and how hir fortunes fel.
 
 The fable of Philomela. 
 
 N Athens reignde fomtimes, 
 A king of worthy fame, 
 Who kept in courte a {lately 
 
 traine, 
 Pandyon was his name. 
 
 And had the Gods him giuen, 
 
 No holly bread e of happe, 
 
 (I meane fuch fruts as make men thinke 
 
 They fit in fortunes lappe). 
 
 Then had his golden giftes, 
 Lyen dead with him in toombe. 
 Ne but himfelfe had none endurde, 
 The daunger of his doome. 
 
 But fmyling lucke, bewitcht, 
 This peereleffe Prince to thinke, 
 That poyfon cannot be conueyde 
 In draughts of pleafant drinke. 
 
 And kinde became fo kind, 
 That he two daughters had, 
 Of bewtie fuch and fo wel giuer., 
 As made their father gladde. 
 
 See : fee : how highejl hanncs, 
 Do lurke in ripejl Joyes, 
 How couertly doth for owjhrowde, 
 In try m me/I u>orldely toyes.
 
 92 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 Thefe iewels of his ioy, 
 Became his caufe of care, 
 And bewtie was the guileful bayte, 
 Which caught their Hues in Snare. 
 
 For Tereus Lord of Thrace, 
 Bycaufe he came of kings, 
 (So weddings made for worldly welth 
 Do feme triumphant things) 
 
 Was thought a worthy matche, 
 Pandyons heire to wedde : 
 Whofe eldeft daughter chofen was, 
 To ferue this king in bedde. 
 
 That virgine Progne hight, 
 And me by whom I meane, 
 To tell this woful Tragedie, 
 Was called Phylomene. 
 
 1" The wedding rytes performde 
 The feafling done and paft, 
 To Thrace with his new wedded fpoufe 
 He turneth at the laft. 
 
 Where many dayes in mirth, 
 And iolytie they fpent, 
 Both fatiffied with deepe delight, 
 And cloyde with al content. 
 
 T At laft the dame defirde 
 
 Hir filler for to fee, 
 
 Such coles of kindely loue did feme 
 
 Within hir brefl to be. 
 
 She praies hir Lorde, of grace, 
 He graunts to hir requeft, 
 And hoift vp faile, to feke the coafte, 
 VVhere Phylomene doth reft.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 93 
 
 He paft the foming feas, 
 And findes the pleafant porte, 
 Of Athens towne, which guided him 
 To King Pandyons court. 
 
 There : (louingly receivde, 
 
 And) welcomde by the king, 
 
 He fhewde the caufe. which thither then 
 
 Did his ambaffade bring. 
 
 His father him embraft, 
 
 His filler kift his cheeke, 
 
 In al the court his comming was 
 
 Reioyft of euerie Greeke. 
 
 O jee the fweete deceit ', 
 Which blindeth worldly wits. 
 How common peoples loue by lumpes. 
 And fancie comes by fits. 
 
 The foe in friendly wife, 
 
 Is many times embraste, 
 
 And he which meanes moft faith and troth 
 
 By grudging is difgrajl. 
 
 T Faire Phylomene came forth 
 In comely garments cladde, 
 As one whom newes of fitters helth 
 Had moued to be gladde, 
 
 Or womans wil (perhappes) 
 Enflamde hir haughtie harte, 
 To get more grace by crummes of coft, 
 And princke it out hir parte. 
 
 Whom hfi no fooner fawe 
 (I meane this Thracian prince) 
 But ftreight therwith his fancies fume 
 All reafon did conuince.
 
 94 THE COMPLEINT 
 
 And as the blazing bronde, 
 Might kindle rotten reeds : 
 Euen fo hir looke a fecret flame, 
 Within his bofome breedes. 
 
 He thinks al leyfure long 
 
 Til he (with hir) were gone, 
 
 And hir he makes to moue the mirth, 
 
 Which after made hir mone. 
 
 Loue made him eloquent 
 
 And if he cravde too much, 
 
 He then excufde him felfe, and faide 
 
 That Prognes words were fuch. 
 
 His teares confirmed all 
 
 Teares : like to fitters teares, 
 
 As who fhuld fay by thefe fewe drops 
 
 Thy fitters griefe appeares. 
 
 So finely could he faine, 
 That wickedneffe feemde wit, 
 And by the lawde of his pretence, 
 His lewdnefle was acquit. 
 
 Yea Phylomene fet forth 
 
 The force of his requeft, 
 
 And cravde (with fighes) hir fathers 
 
 To be hir fitters gueft. 
 
 And hoong about his necke 
 And collingly him kift, 
 And for hir welth did feke the woe 
 VVherof me little wift. 
 
 Meane while ftoode Tereus, 
 Beholding their affecles 
 And made thofe pricks (for his defire 
 A fpurre in al refpects.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 95 
 
 And wifht himfelfe hir fire, 
 When fhe hir fire embrafl, 
 For neither kith nor kin could then 
 Haue made his meaning chad. 
 
 ^~ The Grecian king had not 
 
 The powre for to denay, 
 
 His own deare child, and fonne in lawe 
 
 The thing that both did pray. 
 
 And downe his daughter falles, 
 To thanke him on hir knee, 
 Suppofing that for good fucceffe, 
 VVhich hardefl happe muft be. 
 
 But (leafl my tale feeme long) 
 Their fhipping is preparde : 
 And to the more this aged Greeke, 
 Ful princely did them guard. 
 
 There (melting into mone) 
 He vfde this parting fpeech : 
 Daughter (quoth he) you haue defire 
 Your fiflers court to feech. 
 
 Your fifler feemes likewife, 
 
 Your companie to craue, 
 
 That craue you both, and Tereus here 
 
 The felfe fame thing would haue. 
 
 Ne coulde I more withflande 
 So many deepe defires, 
 But this (quoth he) remember al 
 Your father you requires, 
 
 And thee (my fonne of Thrace]) 
 I conflantly coniure, 
 By faith, by kin, by men, by gods, 
 And al that feemeth fure,
 
 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 That father like, thou fende 
 My daughter deare from fcathe, 
 And (fince I counte al leafure long) 
 Returne hir to me rathe. 
 
 And thou my Phylomene, 
 (Quoth he) come foone againe, 
 Thy fitters abfence puts thy fyre, 
 To too much priuie paine. 
 
 Herewith he kift hir cheeke, 
 
 And fent a fecond kifle 
 
 For Prognes part, and (bathde with teares) 
 
 His daughter doth he bliffe. 
 
 And tooke the Thracyans hand 
 For token of his truth, 
 Who rather laught his teares to fcora, 
 Than wept with him for ruth. 
 
 The fayles are fully fpredde, 
 And winds did ferue at will, 
 And forth this traitour king conueies 
 His praie in prifon flill. 
 
 Ne could the Barbrous bloud, 
 Conceale his filthy fyre, 
 Hey : Vittorie (quoth he) my flrippe 
 Is fraught with my defire. 
 
 Wherewith he fixt his eyes, 
 Vppon hir fearefull face, 
 And ftil behelde hir geftures all, 
 And all hir gleames of grace. 
 
 Ne could he loke a fide, 
 
 But like the cruel catte 
 
 Which gloating cafteth many a glance 
 
 Vpon the felly ratte.
 
 OFPHILOMENE. 97 
 
 *T Why hold I long difcourfe ? 
 They now are come on lande, 
 And forth of fhip the feareful wenche 
 He leadeth by the hande. 
 
 Vnto a felly fhrowde, 
 
 A fheepecote clofely builte 
 
 Amid the woodds, where many a lamb 
 
 Their guiltleffe bloud had fpilte, 
 
 There (like a lambe,) (he floode, 
 And askte with trimbling voice, 
 Where Progne was, whofe only fight 
 Might make hir to reioyce. 
 
 Wherewith this caytife king 
 His luft in lewdnefle lapt, 
 And with his filthy fraude ful fad 
 This fimple mayde entrapt. 
 
 And forth he floong the raines, 
 Vnbridling blinde defire, 
 And ment of hir chad minde to make 
 A fewel for his fire. 
 
 And al alone (alone) 
 
 With force he hir fupprefl, 
 
 And made hir yelde the wicked weede 
 
 Whofe flowre he liked befl. 
 
 What could the virgine doe ? 
 
 She could not runne away, 
 
 Whofe forward feete, his harmfull hands 
 
 With furious force did flay. 
 
 Ahlas what fhould Jhe fight ? 
 Fewe women win by fight; 
 Hir weapons were but weake (god knows) 
 And he was much of might. 
 G
 
 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 // booted not to crie, 
 Since helpe was not at hande, 
 Andjlil before hir feareful face, 
 Hir cruel foe didjlande. 
 
 Andyetjhe (weeping cride) 
 
 Vppon hirfijlers name, 
 
 Hir fathers, and hir brothers (oh) 
 
 Whofe facie didfoyle hir fame. 
 
 And on the Gods J}ie calde, 
 For helpe in hir distrejfe, 
 But al in vaine he wrought his wil 
 Whofe lujl was not the leffe. 
 
 1" The filthie fad once done, 
 He gaue hir leaue to greete, 
 And there (he fat much like a birde 
 New fcapte from falcons feete. 
 
 Whofe blood embrues hir felfe, 
 And fitts in forie plight, 
 Ne dare (he proine hir plumes again, 
 But feares a fecond flight. 
 
 At laft when hart came home, 
 Difcheveld as (he fate, 
 With hands vphelde, (he tried hir tongue, 
 To wreake hir woful (late. 
 
 O Barbrous blood (quoth Jhe) 
 
 By Barbrous deeds difgrajl, 
 
 Coulde no kinde coale, nor pitties fparke, 
 
 Within thy brefl be plafle ? 
 
 Could not my fathers hests, 
 
 Nor my mojl ruthful feares, 
 
 My maydenhoode, nor thine own yoke, 
 
 Affright thy minde with feares f
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 99 
 
 Could not my fisters loue 
 Once quench thy filthy lufll 
 Thoufoilst vs al, and eke thy f elf e. 
 We griev'd, and thou vniust. 
 
 By thee I haue defilde 
 
 My dearejl fiflers bedde 
 
 By thee I compt the life but lofl, 
 
 Which too too long I ledde. 
 
 By thee (thou Bigamus) 
 
 Our fathers grief e muft growe, 
 
 Who daughters twain, (and two too much} 
 
 Vppon thee didbejlowe. 
 
 Butfmce my faulte, thy facie, 
 My fathers iust offence, 
 Myjijlers wrong, with my reproche y 
 I cannot fo dif pence. 
 
 If any Gods be good 
 
 Jf right in heauen do raigne, 
 
 If right or wrong may make reuengc, 
 
 Thoufhalt be paide againe. 
 
 And (wicked) do thy wurjl, 
 Thou canft no more but kil : 
 And oh that death (before this gilte) 
 Had ouercome my will. 
 
 Then might my foule beneath, 
 Haue triumpht yet and f aide, 
 That though I died dif content, 
 y livde and dide a mayde, 
 
 T Herewith hir fwelling fobbes, 
 Did tie hir tong from talke, 
 Whiles yet the Thracian tyrant (there) 
 To heare thefe words did walke.
 
 ioo THE COMPLAINT 
 
 And fkornefully he caft 
 
 At hir a frowning glaunce, 
 
 Which made the mayde to ftriue for fpech, 
 
 And ftertling from hir traunce, 
 
 wil reuenge (quoth /he) 
 For here IJhake offjhame, 
 And wil (my felfe) bewray this facie 
 Therby tofoile thy fame. 
 
 Amidde the thickejl throngs 
 (Jf I haue leaue to go) 
 I will pronounce this bloudie deede, 
 And blotte thine honor fo. 
 
 If I in deferts dwel, 
 The woods, my words Jhal heare, 
 The holts, the hilles, the craggie rocks, 
 Shall witneffe with me beare. 
 
 I willfofil the ay re 
 
 With noyfe of this thine afte, 
 
 That gods and men in heauen and earth 
 Shal note the naughtie facie. 
 
 f Thefe words amazde the king, 
 Confcience with choller ftraue, 
 But rage fo rackte his reftles thought, 
 That now he gan to raue. 
 
 And from his (heath a knife 
 Ful defpratly he drawes, 
 VVherwith he cut the guiltlefle tong 
 Out of hir tender iawes. 
 
 The tong that rubde his gall, 
 The tong that tolde but truthe, 
 The tong that movde him to be mad, 
 And (hould haue moued ruth.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 101 
 
 And from his hand with fpight 
 
 This truflie tongue he caft, 
 
 VVhofe roote, and it (to wreake this wrong) 
 
 Did wagge yet wondrous faft. 
 
 So flirres the ferpents taile 
 When it is cut in twaine, 
 And fo it feemes that weakeft willes, 
 (By words) would eafe their paine. 
 
 I blufh to tell this tale, 
 But fure beft books fay this : 
 That yet the butcher did not blufh 
 Hir bloudy mouth to kiffe. 
 
 And ofte hir bulke embraft, 
 And ofter quencht the fire, 
 Which kindled had the furnace firfl, 
 Within his foule defire. 
 
 Not herewithal content, 
 
 To Progne home he came, 
 
 Who askt him ftreight of Philotnene : 
 
 He (fayning griefe of game,) 
 
 Burfl out in bitter teares, 
 And fayde the dame was dead, 
 And falfly tolde, what wery life 
 Hir father (for hir) ledde. 
 
 The Thracian Queene caft off 
 Hir gold, and gorgeous weede, 
 And dreft in dole, bewailde hir death 
 Whom me thought dead in deede. 
 
 A fepulchre me builds 
 
 (But for a liuing corfe,) 
 
 And praide the gods on fifters foule 
 
 To take a iuft remorfe :
 
 102 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 And offred facrifice, 
 
 To all the powers aboue. 
 
 Ah traiterous Thracian Tereus, 
 
 This was true force of loue. 
 
 ^ The heauens had whirld aboute 
 Twelue yeeres in order due 
 And twelue times euery flowre and plant, 
 Their liueries did renew, 
 
 Whiles Philomene full clofe 
 In fhepcote ftil was clapt, 
 Enforft to bide by ftonie walles 
 Which faft (in hold) hir hapt. 
 
 And as thofe walles forbadde 
 
 Hir feete by flight to fcape, 
 
 So was hir tong (by knife) reftrainde, 
 
 For to reueale this rape 
 
 No remedie remaynde 
 
 But onely womans witte, 
 
 Which fodainly in queinteft chance, 
 
 Can befl it felfe acquit. 
 
 And Miferie (amongft) 
 Tenne thoufand mifthieues moe, 
 Learnes pollicie in praflifes. 
 As proof e makes men to knowe. 
 
 With curious needle worke, 
 
 A garment gan me make, 
 
 Wherin me wrote what bale me bode, 
 
 And al for bewties fake. 
 
 This garment gan me giue 
 
 To truftie Seruants hande, 
 
 Who ftreight conueid it to the queen 
 
 Of Thracian Tirants lande.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 103 
 
 When Progtie red the writ, 
 
 (A wondrous tale to tell) 
 
 She kept it clofe : though malice made 
 
 Hir venging hart to fwell. 
 
 And did deferre the deede, 
 Til time and place might ferue, 
 But in hir minde a fharpe reuenge, 
 She fully did referue. 
 
 filence feldome feme. 
 That women counfell keepe, 
 
 The caufe was this,Jhe wakt hir wits 
 And lullde hir tong onfleepe. 
 
 1 fpeake againfl my fex, 
 So haue I done before, 
 
 But truth is truth, and mufte be tolcle 
 Though daunger keepe the dore. 
 
 The thirde yeres rytes renewed, 
 Which Bacchus to belong, 
 And in that night the queene prepares 
 Reuenge for al hir wrongs. 
 
 She (girt in Bacchus gite) 
 With fworde hir felfe doth arme, 
 With wreathes of vines about hir browes 
 And many a needles charme. 
 
 And forth in furie flings, 
 Hir handmaides following fafl, 
 Vntil with haflie fteppes me founde 
 The fhepecote at the lafl. 
 
 There howling out aloude, 
 
 As Bacchus priefts do crie, 
 
 She brake the dores, and found the place 
 
 Where Philomene did. lye.
 
 104 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 And toke hir out by force, 
 
 And dreft hir Bacchus like, 
 
 And hid hir face with boughes and leaues 
 
 (For being knowen by like.) 
 
 And brought hir to hir houfe, 
 But when the wretch it knewe, 
 That now againe fhe was fo neere 
 To Tereus vntrue. 
 
 She trembled oft for dreade, 
 And lookt like afhes pale. 
 But Progne (now in priuie place) 
 Set filen.ce al to fale, 
 
 And tooke the garments off, 
 Difcouering firft hir face, 
 And fifter like did louingly 
 Faire Phylomene embrace. 
 
 There fhe (by fhame abafht) 
 
 Held downe hir weeping eyes, 
 
 As who mould fay : Thy right (by me) 
 
 Js refte in wrongful wife. 
 
 And down on the ground fhe falles, 
 Which ground fhe kift hir fill, 
 As witnefle that the filthie fa<5le 
 Was done againfl hir wil. 
 
 And cafl hir hands to heauen, 
 In fteede of tong to tell, 
 What violence the lecher vfde, 
 And how hee did hir quell. 
 
 Wherewith the Queene brake off 
 
 Hir piteous pearcing plainte, 
 
 And fware with fworde (no teares) to venge 
 
 The crafte of this conftrainte.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 105 
 
 Or if (quoth fhe) there bee 
 
 Some other meane more fure, 
 
 More ftearne, more floute, then naked fword 
 
 Some mifchiefe to procure, 
 
 I fweare by al the Gods, 
 
 I fliall the fame embrace, 
 
 To vvreake this wrong with bloudie hande 
 
 Vppon the king of Thrace. 
 
 Ne will I fpare to fpende 
 
 My life in fitters caufe, 
 
 In fifters ? ah what faide I wretch ? 
 
 My wrong mail lende me lawes. 
 
 I wil the pallace burne, 
 With al the princes pelfe, 
 And in the midft of flaming fire, 
 Wil cafte the king him felfe. 
 
 I wil fcrat out thofe eyes, 
 
 That taught him firft to lufl, 
 
 Or teare his tong from traitors throte, 
 
 Oh that reuenge were iuft. 
 
 Or let me carue with knife, 
 The wicked Inftrument, 
 Wherewith he, thee, and me abufde 
 (I am to mifchiefe bent.) 
 
 Or fleeping let me feeke 
 
 To fende the foule to hel, 
 
 Whofe barbarous bones for filthy force, 
 
 Did feeme to beare the bel. 
 
 ^~ Thefe words and more in rage 
 Pronounced by this dame, 
 Hir little fonne came leaping in 
 Which Jtis had to name.
 
 io6 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 Whofe prefence, could not pleafe 
 
 For (vewing well his face,) 
 
 Ah wretch (quoth (he) how like he groweth 
 
 Vnto his fathers grace. 
 
 And therwithal refolvde 
 A rare reuenge in deede 
 Wheron to thinke (withouten words) 
 My woful hart doth bleede. 
 
 But when the lad lokt vp, 
 
 And cheerefully did fmile, 
 
 And hung about his mothers necke 
 
 With eafie weight therewhile, 
 
 And kift (as children vfe) 
 
 His angrie mothers cheeke, 
 
 Her minde was movde to much remorce 
 
 And mad became ful meeke. 
 
 Ne could me teares refrayne, 
 But wept againft hir will, 
 Such tender rewth of innocence, 
 Hir cruell moode did kill. 
 
 At laft (fo furie wrought) 
 Within hir breft me felt, 
 That too much pitie made hir minde 
 Too womanlike to melt, 
 
 And faw hir fifter fit, 
 With heauy harte and cheere, 
 And now on hir, and then on him, 
 Full lowringly did leare, 
 
 Into thefe words me bruft 
 (Quoth me) why flatters he ? 
 And why againe (with tong cut out) 
 So fadly fitteth fhee ?
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 107 
 
 He, mother, mother calles, 
 She filler cannot fay, 
 That one in earned doth lament, 
 That other whines in plaie. 
 
 Pandions line (quoth (he) 
 Remember fl.il your race, 
 And neuer marke the fubtil (hewes 
 Of any Soule in Thrace. 
 
 You mould degenerate, 
 If right reuenge you flake, 
 More right reuenge can neuer bee, 
 Than this reuenge to make. 
 
 Al ill that may be thought, 
 Al mifchiefe vnder fkies, 
 Were pietie compard to that 
 Which Tereus did deuife. 
 
 1~ She holds no longer hande, 
 But (Tygrdike) (he toke 
 The little boy ful boiflroufly 
 Who now for terror quooke 
 
 And (crauing mothers helpe,) 
 She (mother) toke a blade, 
 And in hir fonnes fmal tender hart 
 An open wound (he made. 
 
 The cruel dede difpatcht, 
 Betwene the fifters twaine 
 They tore in peces quarterly 
 The corps which they had flaine. 
 
 Some part, they hoong on hooks. 
 The reft they laide to fire. 
 And on the table caufed it, 
 Be fet before the fire.
 
 io8 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 And counterfaite a caufe 
 
 (As Grecians order then) 
 
 That at fuch feafls; (but onely one) 
 
 They might abide no men. 
 
 He knowing not their crafte, 
 
 Sat downe alone to eate, 
 
 And hungerly his owne warme bloud 
 
 Deuoured then for meate. 
 
 His ouerfight was fuch, 
 
 That he for Itis fent, 
 
 Wofe murdered members in his mawe, 
 
 He priuily had pent. 
 
 No longer Progne then, 
 
 Hir ioy of griefe could hide, 
 
 The thing thou feekft (6 wretch quoth flic) 
 
 Within thee doth abide. 
 
 VVherwith (he waxing wroth) 
 And fearching for his fonne) 
 Came forth at length, faire Philomene 
 By whom the griefe begonne, 
 
 And (clokt in Bacchus copes, 
 VVherwith me then was cladde,) 
 In fathers bofom call the head 
 Of Itis felly ladde : 
 
 Nor euer in hir life 
 
 Had more defire to fpeake, 
 
 Than now : wherby hir madding mood 
 
 Might al hir malice wreake. 
 
 T The Thratian prince ftert vp, 
 VVhofe hart did boyle in brefl, 
 To feele the foode, and fee the fawce, 
 Which he could not difgeft.
 
 OFPHILOMENE. 109 
 
 And armed (as he was) 
 
 He followed both the Greekes, 
 
 On whom (by fmarte of fword, and flame) 
 
 A fharpe reuenge he fekes. 
 
 But when the heauenly benche, 
 Thefe bloudie deedes did fee, 
 And found that bloud fill couits bloud 
 And fo none ende could be. 
 
 They then by their forfight 
 Thought meete to ftinte the flrife, 
 And fo reftraind the murdring king, 
 From fifter and from wife. 
 
 So that by their decree, 
 The yongeft daughter fledde 
 Into the thicks, where couertly, 
 A cloifter life me ledde. 
 
 And yet to eafe hir woe, 
 
 She worthily can fing, 
 
 And as thou hearft, can pleafe the eares 
 
 Of many men in fpring. 
 
 The eldeft dame and wife 
 
 A Swalloive was affignde, 
 
 And builds in fmoky chimney toppes 
 
 And flies againft the winde. 
 
 The king him felfe condemnde, 
 A Lapwing for to be, 
 Who for his yong ones cries alwais, 
 Yet neuer can them fee. 
 
 The lad a Pheafaunt cocke 
 
 For his degree hath gaind, 
 
 VVhofe blouddie plumes declare the bloud 
 
 VVherwith his face was flaind.
 
 no THE COMPLAINT 
 
 T But there to turne my tale, A" e*posi- 
 
 '.,.,_ ;. tion ofal 
 
 The which I came to tell, such notes 
 
 Theyongeft dame toforrefts fled, tlngafe dottf 
 And there is dampnde to dwell, commonly 
 
 vse to sing. 
 
 And Nightingale now namde 
 Which (Philomela hight) 
 Delights for (feare of force again e) 
 To fing alwayes by night. 
 
 But when the funne to weft, 
 Doth bende his weerie courfe, 
 Then Phylomene records the rewth, 
 Which craueth iuft remorfe. 
 
 i And for hir foremoft note, 
 Tereu Tereu, doth fing, 
 Complaining ftil vppon the name 
 Of that falfe Thracian king. 
 
 Much like the childe at fchole 
 With byrchen rodds fore beaten, 
 If when he go to bed at night 
 His maifter chaunce to threaten, 
 
 In euery dreame he ftarts, 
 
 And (6 good maifter) cries, 
 
 Euen fo this byrde vppon that name, 
 
 Hir foremoft note replies. 
 
 Or as the red bread byrds, 
 Whome prettie Merlynes hold, 
 Ful fail in foote, by winters night 
 To fende themfelues from colde : 
 
 Though afterwards the hauke, 
 For pitie let them fcape, 
 Yet al that day, they fede in feare, 
 And doubte a fecond rape.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 
 
 And in the nexter night, 
 Ful many times do crie, 
 Remembring yet the ruthful plight 
 Wherein they late did lye. 
 
 Euen fo this felly byrde, 
 Though now tranfformde in kinde, 
 Yet euermore hir pangs forepart., 
 She beareth flil in minde. 
 
 And in hir foremoft note, 
 
 She notes that cruel name, 
 
 By whom me loft hir pleafant fpeech 
 
 And foiled was in fame. 
 
 2 T Hir fecond note isfye, 
 In Greeke and latine//^, 
 In englifh./y, and euery tong 
 That euer yet read I. 
 
 Which word declares difdaine, 
 Or lothfome leying by 
 Of any thing we taft, heare, touche, 
 Smel, or beholde with eye. 
 
 In taft, phy fheweth fome fowre, 
 In hearing, fome difcorde, 
 In touch, fome foule or filthy toye, 
 In fmel, fome fent abhorde. 
 
 In fight, fome lothfome loke, 
 And euery kind of waie, 
 This byword phy betokneth bad, 
 And things to cart. away. 
 
 So that it feemes hir well, 
 Phy, phy, phy, phy, to fmg, 
 Since phy befytteth him fo well 
 In euery kind of thing.
 
 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 Phy filthy lecher lewde, 
 
 Phy falfe vnto thy wife, 
 
 Phy coward phy, (on womankinde) 
 
 To vfe thy cruel knife. 
 
 Phy for thou wert vnkinde, 
 Fye fierce, and foule forfworne, 
 Phy monfter made of murdring mould 
 Whofe like was neuer borne. 
 
 Phy agony of age, 
 
 Phy ouerthrowe of youth, 
 
 Phy mirrour of mifcheuoumeffe, 
 
 Phy, tipe of al vntruth. 
 
 Phy fayning forced teares, 
 Phy forging fyne excufe, 
 Phy periury, fy blafphemy, 
 Phy bed of al abufe. 
 
 Thefe phyes, arid many moe, 
 Pore Philomene may meane, 
 And in hir felfe me findes percafe, 
 Some//:)' that was vncleane. 
 
 For though his fowie offence, 
 May not defended bee, 
 Hir fifter yet, and (he trangreft, 
 Though not fo deepe as he. 
 
 His doome came by deferte, 
 Their dedes grewe by difdaine, 
 But men mufl leaue reuenge to Gods, 
 What wrong foeuer raigne. 
 
 Then Progne phy for thee, 
 Which kildft thine only child, 
 Phy on the cruel crabbed heart 
 VVhich was not movde with milde.
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 113 
 
 Phy phy, thou clofe conveydft 
 
 A fecret il vnfene, 
 
 Where (good to kepe in councel clofe) 
 
 Had putrifide thy fplene. 
 
 Phy on thy fitters fac~le, 
 And phy hir felfe doth fing, 
 Whofe lack of tong riere toucht hir fo 
 As when it could not fling. 
 
 Phy on vs both faith fhe, 
 
 The father onely faulted, 
 
 And we (the father free therewhile) 
 
 The felly fonne affalted. 
 
 3 T The next note to hir phy 
 Is lug, lug, lug, I geffe, 
 That might I leaue to latynifls, 
 By learning to exprefle. 
 
 Some commentaries make 
 About it much adoe : 
 If it mould onely lugum meane 
 Ch Jugulator too. 
 
 Some thinke that lugum is 
 The lug, fhe iugleth fo, 
 But lugulator is the word 
 That doubleth al hir woe. 
 
 For when fhe thinkes thereon, 
 She beares them both in minde, 
 Him, breaker of his bonde in bed, 
 Hir, killer of hir kinde. 
 
 As fad as furies force 
 Hir thoughts on him to thinke, 
 So fafl hir confcience choks hir vp } 
 And wo to wrong doth linke. 
 
 H
 
 ii 4 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 At lad (by griefe conflrainde) 
 
 It boldly breaketh out. 
 
 And makes the hollow woods to ring 
 
 With Eccho round about. 
 
 4 *[ Hir next mofl note (to note) 
 I neede no helpe at al, 
 For I my felfe the partie am 
 On whom (he then doth call. 
 
 She calles on Nemefis 
 
 And Nemefis am I, 
 
 The Goddeffe of al iufl reuenge, 
 
 Who let no blame go by. 
 
 This bridle bod with gold, 
 
 I beare in my left hande, 
 
 To holde men backe in rafhefl rage, 
 
 Vntil the caufe be fcand. 
 
 And fuch as like that bitte 
 
 And beare it willingly, 
 
 May fcape this fcourge in my right hand 
 
 Although they trode awry. 
 
 But if they hold on head, 
 And fcorne to beare my yoke, 
 Oft times they buy the rofl ful deare, 
 It fmelleth of the fmoke. 
 
 This is the caufe (fir Squire 
 Quoth me) that Phylomene 
 Doth cal fo much vpon my name, 
 She to my lawes doth leane : 
 
 She feeles a iuft reuenge. 
 Of that which me hath done, 
 Conflrainde to vfe the day for night, 
 And makes the moone hir funne.
 
 OFPHILOMENE. 115 
 
 Ne can (he now complaine, 
 (Although flie loft hir long) 
 For fmce that time, ne yet before, 
 No byrde fo fwetely foong. 
 
 That gift we Gods hir gaue, 
 To countervaile hir woe, 
 I fat on bench in heauen my felfe 
 When it was graunted fo. 
 
 And though hir foe be fledde, 
 But whither knows not fhe, 
 And like hir felfe tranfformed eke 
 A felly byrde to bee : 
 
 On him this fharpe reuenge 
 The Gods and I did take, 
 He neither can beholde his brats, 
 Nor is belovde of make. 
 
 As foone as coles of kinde 
 Haue warmed him to do 
 The felly fhift of dewties dole 
 Which him belongeth to : 
 
 His hen ftraight way him hates, 
 And flieth farre him fro, 
 And clofe conueis hir eggs from him, 
 As from hir mortal foe. 
 
 As fone as me hath hatcht, 
 
 Hir little yong ones runne, 
 
 For feare their dame mould ferue them eftc, 
 
 As Progne had begonne. 
 
 And rounde about the fields 
 
 The furious father flies, 
 
 To feke his fonne, and filles the ayre 
 
 With loude lamenting fries.
 
 116 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 This lothfome life he leads 
 
 By our almightie dome, 
 
 And thus fings fhe, where company 
 
 But very feldome come. 
 
 Now left my faithful tale 
 For fable mould be taken, 
 And therevpon my curtefie, 
 By thee might be forfaken : 
 
 Remember al my words, 
 And beare them wel in minde. 
 And make thereof a metaphor e, 
 So malt thou quickly finde. 
 
 Both profite and paftime, 
 
 In al that I thee tel : 
 
 1 knowe thyskil wilferue therto, 
 
 And fo (quoth fhe) farewell. 
 
 Wherewith (me thought) fhe flong fo faft The au - 
 
 conti- 
 nevveth 
 
 That fcarce I could, hir feemely fhaddowe fee. and 
 
 At laft : myftaffe (which was mine onely ftay) condudeth. 
 
 Did flippe, and I,muft needes awaked be, 
 
 Againft my wil did I (God knowes) awake, 
 
 For willingly I could my felfe content, 
 
 Seuen dayes to fleepe for Philomelas fake, 
 
 So that my fleepe in fuch fwete thoughts were fpent. 
 
 But you my Lord which reade this ragged verfe, 
 
 Forgiue the faults of my fo fleepy mufe, 
 
 Let me the heaft of Ntmefis rehearfe,
 
 OF PHILOMENE. 117 
 
 For fure I fee, much fenfe therof enfues. 
 I feeme to fee (my Lord) that lechers lufl, 
 Procures the plague, and vengaunce of the highefl, 
 I may not fay, but God is good and iufl, 
 Although he fcourge the furdefl for the nigheft : 
 The fathers fault lights fometime on the fonne, 
 Yea foure difcents it beares the burden ftil, 
 Whereby it falles (when vaine delight is done) 
 That dole fleppes in and wields the world at wil. 
 
 whoredom, whoredome, hope for no good happc, 
 The befl is bad that lights on lechery 
 
 And (al wel weyed) he fits in Fortunes lappe, 
 Which feeles no (harper fcourge than beggery. 
 You princes peeres, you comely courting knights, 
 Which vfe al arte to marre the maidens mindes, 
 Which win al dames with baite of fonde delights, 
 Which bewtie force, to loofe what bountie bindes : 
 Thinke on the fcourge that Nemefis doth beare, 
 Remember this, that God (although he winke) 
 Doth fee al fmnes that euer fecret were. 
 ( VOR robis) then which ftill in finne do fmke. 
 Gods mercy lends you brydles for defire, 
 Hold backe betime, for feare you catch a foyle, 
 The flefli may fpurre to euerlafling fire, 
 But fure, that horfe which tyreth like a roile, 
 And lothes the griefe of his forgalded fides, 
 Is better, much than is the harbrainde colte 
 Which headlong runnes and for no bridle bydes, 
 But huntes for finne in euery hil and holte. 
 
 1 le which is fmgle, let him fpare to fpil 
 
 The flowre of force, which makes a famous man : 
 Left when he comes to matrimonies will, 
 His fyneft graine be burnt, and ful of branne. 
 He that is yokte and hath a wedded wife, 
 Be wel content with that which may fuffyfe, 
 And (were no God) yet feare of worldly flrife 
 Might make him lothe the bed where Lays lie? : 
 For though Pandyons daughter Prognc fhee, 
 Were fo transformde into a fethered foule,
 
 u8 THE COMPLAINT 
 
 Yet feemes fhe not withouten heires to be, 
 
 Who (wrongde like hir) ful angrely can fcoule, 
 
 And beare in brefl a right reuenging mode, 
 
 Til time and place, may ferue to worke their will. 
 
 Yea furely fome, the befl of al the broode 
 
 (If they had might) with furious force would kil. 
 
 But force them not, whofe force is not to force. 
 
 And way their words as blafts of bluflring winde, 
 
 Which comes ful calme, when flormes are pall by 
 
 courfe : 
 
 Yet God aboue that can both lofe and bynde, 
 VVil not fo foone appeafed be therefore, 
 He makes the male, of female to be hated, 
 He makes the fire go fighing wondrous fore, 
 Becaufe the fonne of fuch is feldome rated. 
 I meane the fonnes of fuch ram finning fires, 
 Are feldome fene to runne a ruly race. 
 But plagude (be like) by fathers foule defires 
 Do gadde a broade, and lacke the guide of grace. 
 Then (Lapwinglike) the father flies about, 
 And howles and cries to fee his children flray, 
 Where he him felfe (and no man better) mought 
 Haue taught his bratts to take a better way. 
 Thus men (my Lord) be Metamorphofed, 
 From feemely fhape, to byrds, and ougly beastes : 
 Yea braueft dames, (if they amiffe once tredde) 
 Finde bitter fauce, for al their pleafant feasts. 
 They must in fine condemned be to dwell 
 In thickes vnfeene, in mewes for minyons made, 
 Vntil at laft, (if they can bryde it wel) 
 They may chop chalke, and take fome better trade. 
 Beare with me (Lord) my lusting dayes are done, 
 Fayre Phylomene forbad me fayre and flat 
 To like fuch loue, as is with luft begonne. 
 The lawful loue is befl, and I like that. 
 Then if you fee, that (Lapwinglike) I chaunce, 
 To leape againe, beyond my lawful reache, 
 (I take hard taske) or but to giue a glaunce, 
 At bewties blafe : for fuch a wilful breache,
 
 OFPHILOMENE 119 
 
 Of promife made, my Lord fhal do no wrong, 
 To fay (George) thinke on Philomelaes fong. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 Tarn Marti, quam Mercurio. 
 
 AND thus my very good L. may fe how coblerlike 
 I haue clouted a new patch to an olde fole, 
 beginning this complain te QiPhilomene, in Aprill, 1562, 
 continuing it a little furder in Aprill. 1575 and now 
 thus finifhed this thirde day of Aprill. 1576. 
 
 Al which mine April mowers are humbly fent vnto 
 your good Lordfhip, for that I hope very fhortly to fee 
 the May flowers of your fauour, which I defire, more 
 than I can deferue. And yet reft 
 
 Your Lordships bownden 
 and assured.
 
 J. &* W Rider, Printers. London
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed.