SPEECHES DELIVERED TO HER majesty THIS LAST progress, AT THE Right honourable the Lady RVSSELS, at Bissam, the Right honourable the lord CHANDOS at Sudley, at the Right honourable the Lord NORRIS, at Ricorte.  
 printer's device of Joseph Barnes, McKerrow 336: "The arms of the University of Oxford" 
AC: OX   
At oxford, Printed by joseph barns. 1592.   

TO THE READER.  
I GATHERED these copies in loose papers I know not how imperfect, therefore must I crave a double pardon; of him that penned them, and those that read them. The matter of small moment, and therefore the offence of no great danger.  
I. B.   


At the top of the Hill going to Bissam, the Cornets sounding in the Woods, a wild man came forth and uttered this speech.  
I Followed this sound, as enchanted; neither knowing the reason why, nor how to bee rid of it: unusual to these Woods, and( I fear) to our gods prodigious. sylvanus whom I honour, is run into a cave: Pan, whom I envy, courting of the shepherdess: envy I thee Pan? No, pitty thee, an eie-sore to chast nymphs; yet still importunate: Honour thee sylvanus? No, contemn thee: fearful of music in the Woods, yet counted the god of the Woods. I, it may bee more stout, than wise, asked, who passed that way? what he or shee? none durst answer, or would vouchsafe, but passionate echo, who said Shee. And Shee it is, and you are Shee, whom in our dreams many yeares wee satires haue seen, but waking could never find any such. every one hath told his dream and described your person, all agree in one, and set down your virtues: in this onely did wee differ, that some said your portraiture might be drawn, other said impossible: some thought your virtues might be numbered, most said they were infinite: Infinite, and impossible, of that side was I: and first in humility to salute you most happy I: my untamed thoughts wax gentle, & I feel in myself civility, A thing hated, because not known, and unknown, because I knew not you. Thus virtue tameth fierceness, Beauty, madness. Your majesty on my knees will I follow, bearing this Club, not as a Saluage, but to beate down those that are.  
At the middle of the Hill sate Pan, and two Virgins keeping sheep, and sowing in their Samplers, where her majesty stayed and heard this.  Pan. 
pretty souls and bodies too, faire shephardisse, or sweet mistress, you know my suite, love, my virtue, music, my power, a godhead. I cannot tickle the sheeps guts of a Lute, bydd, bydd, bydd, like the calling of chickens, but for a Pipe that squeeketh like a pig, I am he. How do you burn time, & drown beauty in pricking of clouts, when you should bee penning of Sonnets? You are more simplo then the sheep you keep, but not so gentle. I love you both, I know not which best, and you both scorn me, I know not which most. Sure I am, that you are not so young as not to understand love, nor so wise as to withstand it, unless you think yourselves greater than gods, whereof I am one. Howe often haue I brought you Chestnuts for a love token, & desired but acceptance for a favour. Little did you know the mystery, that as the husk was thornye and tough, yet the meate sweet, so though my hide were rough and vnkempt, yet my heart was smooth and loving: you are but the Farmers daughters of the Dale, I the god of the flocks that feed vpon the hills. Though I cannot force love, I may obedience, or else send your sheep a wandring, with my fancies. coyness must be revenged with curstnesse, but be not agaste sweet mice, my godhead cometh so fast vpon me, that majesty had almost ouerrunn affection, Can you love? will you?  Syb. 
Alas poor Pan, look how he looketh Sister, fitter to draw in a harvest wain, then talk of love to chased Virgins, would you haue us both?  Pan. 
I, for oft I haue heard, that two Pigeons may bee caught with one bean.  Isab. 
And two Woodcocks with one sprindge.  Syb. 
And many Dotterels with one dance.  Isab. 
And all fools with one faire word.  
Nay, this is his meaning; as he hath two shapes, so hath he two harts, the one of a man wherewith his tongue is tipped, dissembling; the other of a beast, wherewith his thoughts are poisoned, lust. Men must haue as many loues, as they haue hart-strings, and study to make an Alphabet of mistresses, from A. to Y. which maketh them in the end cry, Ay. Against this, experience hath provided us a remedy, to laugh at them when they know not what to say, and when they speak, not to beleeue them.  Pan. 
Not for want of matter, but to know the meaning, what is wrought in this sampler?  Syb. 
The follies of the Gods, who became beasts, for their affections.  Pan. 
What in this?  Isa. 
The honour of Virgins who became Goddesses, for their chastity.  Pan. 
But what be these?  Syb. 
Mens tongues, wrought all with double stitch but not one true.  Pan. 
What these?  Isa. 
Roses, Eglentine, harts-ease, wrought with queens stitch, and all right.  Pan. 
I never hard the odds between mens tongues, and weomens, therefore they may be both double, unless you tell me how they differ.  Syb. 
Thus, weomens tongues are made of the same flesh that their harts are, and speak as they think: Mens harts of the flesh that their tongues, and both dissemble, But prythy Pan be packing, thy words are as odious as thy fight and we attend a fight which is more glorious, then the sun rising.  Pan. 
What doth jupiter come this ways?  Syb. 
No, but one that will make jupiter blushy as guilty of his vnchast iugglings, and juno dismayed as wounded at her majesty. What our mother hath often told us, and famed the whole world, cannot be concealed from thee; if it be, we will tell thee, which may hereafter make thee surcease thy suite, for fear of her displeasure, and honour virginitye, by wondering at her virtues.  Pan. 
Say on sweet soul?  Syb. 
This way cometh the queen of this island, the wonder of the world, and natures glory, leading affections in fetters, Virginities slaves: embracing mildness with Iustice, majesties twins. In whom nature hath imprinted beauty, not art painted it; in whom wit hath bread learning, but not without labour; labour brought forth wisdom, but not without wonder. By her it is ( Pan) that all our Carttes that thou seest, are laden with corn, when in other countries they are filled with Harneys, that our horses are led with a whipp: theirs with a lance, that our Riuers flow with fish, theirs with blood: our cattle feed on pastures, they feed on pastures like cattle: One hand she stretcheth to france, to weaken Rebels; the other to flanders, to strengthen Religion; her heart to both Countries, her virtues to all. This is shee at whom envy hath shot all her arrows, and now for anger broken her bow, on whom God hath laid all his blessings, & we for ioy clap our hands, heedless treason goeth hedlesse; and close treachery restless: danger looketh pale to behold her majesty; & tyranny blusheth to hear of her mercy. jupiter came into the house of poor Baucis, & she vouchsafeth to visit the bare farms of her subiects. We vpon our knees, will entreat her to come into the valley, that our houses may be blessed with her presence, whose hartes are filled with quietness by her government. To her wee wish as many yeares, as our fields haue ears of corn, both infinite: and to her enemies, as many troubles, as the Wood hath leaves, all intolerable. But whist, here shee is, run down Pan the hill in all hast, and though thou break thy neck to give our mother warning, it is no matter.  Pan. 
No, give me leave to die with wondering, & antitype you to your mother. Here I yield all the flocks of these fields to your highnes: green be the grass where you tread: calm the water where you row: sweet the air, where you breath: long the life that you live, happy the people that you love: this is all I can wish. During your abode, no theft shal be in the woods: in the field no noise, in the valleys no spies, myself will keep all safe: that is all I can offer. And hear I break my pipe, which Apollo could never make me do; and follow that sound which follows you.  
At the bottom of the hill, entering into the house Ceres with her nymphs in an harvest Cart, meet her majesty, having a crown of wheat-ears with a jewel, and after this song, uttered the speech following.  

swell Ceres now for other Gods are shrinking,  
Pomona pineth,  
fruitless her three;  
Faire Phoebus shineth  
Onely on me.   

conceit doth make me smile whilst I am thinking,  
How every one doth red my story,  
How every bough on Ceres lowreth,  
Cause heauens plenty on me poureth,  
And they in leaves do onely glory,  
All other Gods of power bereuen,  
Ceres only queen of heaven.   

With Robes and flowers let me be dressed.  
Cynthia that shineth,  
Is not so clear,  
Cynthia declineth,  
When I appear,   

Yet in this Ile shee reigns as blessed,  
And every one at her doth wonder,  
And in my ears still fonde famed whispers,  
Cynthia shal be Ceres mistress,  
But first my car shall rive asunder,  
help Phoebus help my fall is sudden,  
Cynthia, Cynthia, must be sovereign.   
GReater then Ceres, receive Ceres crown, the ornament of my plenty, the honour of your peace, here at your highnes feet, I lay down my feigned deity, which Poets haue honoured, truth contemned. To your majesty whom the heauens haue crwoned with happiness, the world with wonder, birth with dignity, nature with perfection, we do all Homage, accounting nothing ours but what comes from you. And this much dare we promise for the Lady of the farm, that your presence hath added many daies to her life, by the infinite joys shee conceyues in her heart, who presents your highnesse with this toy and this short prayer, poured from her hart, that your daies may increase in happiness, your happiness haue no end till there be no more daies.  
At her majesties entrance into the Castle, an old shepherd spake this saying.  
VOuchsafe to hear, a simplo shepherd, cords and simplicity cannot part, your highnes is come into Cotshold, an vneuen country, but a people, that carry their thoughts level with their fortunes, low spirites, but true harts, using plain dealing, once counted a jewel now beggary, these hills afoorde nothing but cottages, and nothing can we present to your highnes, but cords. The country healthy, and harmless, a fresh air, where there are noe dampes, and where a black sheep is a perilous beast, no monsters, we carry our harts, at our tongues ends, being as far from dissembling, as our sheep from fierceness, and if in any thing, we shall chance to discover our fifteens, it willbe in over boldness, in gazinge at you, who fills our harts with joy, and our eyes with wonder, as for the honourable Lord and Lady of the Castle, what happiness they conceive, I would it were possible for themselves to express, then should your majesty see, that al outward entertainment, were but a smoke rising from their inward affections, which as they cannot be seen, being in the hart, so can they not be smoothred, appearing in their countenance, this lock of wool Cotsholdes best fruit, and my poor gift, I offer to your highnes, in which nothing is to be esteemed, but the whiteness, virginities colour, nor to be expected but duty, shepherds religion.  
Sunday, Apollo running after Daphne, a shepherd followed uttering this.  
Nescis temeraria; nescis,  
Quem fugias; idioque fugis.  
A short tale, but a sorrowful, a just complaint, but remedelesse, I loved,( for shephardes haue their Saints) long I loved( for beauty bindeth prentices) a Nymph most faire & as chast as faire, yet not more faire, then I unhappy, Apollo who calleth himself a god( a title among men, when they will commit injuries) term themselves gods, pursued my Daphne with bootless love, and me, with endless hate, her he wooed; with faire words, the flatteries of men, with great gifts, the sorceries of gods, with cruel threats, the terrefiing of weak damosels Néc prece néc pretio néc movet ille minis. me; he terrified with a monstrous word metamorphosing, saying that he would turn me into a wolf and of a shepherd make me a sheep-biter, or into a Cockatrice and cause mine eyes which gazed on her, to blind hers which made mine dazzle, or to a mould that I should hear his flattering speech, but never behold her faire face, tantaené animis caelestibus irae? sometimes would he 'allure her with sweet music, but harmony is harsh when it is lusts broker, often with promise of immortality, but chastetye is of itself immortal, ever pursuing her with swiftness, but virtue tying wings to the thoughts of Virgins, swiftness becometh surbated; thus lived he twixt love and jealousy; I twixt love and danger; she twixt fear and virtue. At last and alas, this day I fear of all my joys the last, I cannot as a Poet( who describing the morning, and before he tell what it is, make it night,) stand on the time, love coyneth no circumloquutions, but by the sun, a shepherds dial, which goeth as true as our harts, it was four of the clock, when she flying from his treason was turned into a three; which made me stand, as though I had been turned into a ston, and Apollo so enchanted as wounded with her loss, or his own cruelty, the fingers which were wont to play on the Lute, found no other instrument then his own face, the golden hair the pride of his head pulde off in locks and stamped at his feet, his sweet voice, turned to howling; and there sitteth he,( long may he sorrow,) wondering, and weeping, and kissing the laurel, his late love, and mine ever. Pleaseth your majesty to view the melancholy of Apollo, my distress, and Daphnes mischance, it may be the sight of so rare perfection, will make him die for grief, which I wish, or Daphne return to her old shape, which must be your wonder; if neither, it shal content me that I haue revealed my griefs, and that you may behold his.  
This speech ended, her majesty saw Apollo with the three, having on the one side one that sung, on the other one that played.  
SIng you, play you, but sing and play my truth,  
This three my Lute, these sighs my notes of ruth:  
The laurel leaf for ever shall bee green,  
And chastety shalbe Apolloes queen.  
If gods may die, here shall my tomb be plaste,  
And this engraven, fonde Phoebus, Daphne chased.  
After these verses, the song.  
MY hart and tongue were twins, at once conceived,  
The eldest was my hart, born dumb by destiny,  
The last my tongue, of all sweet thoughts bereaved,  
Yet strung and tunde, to play harts harmony.  
Both knit in one, and yet asunder placed,  
What hart would speak, the tongue doth still discover,  
What tongue doth speak, is of the hart embraced,  
And both are one to make a new found lover:  
New found, and onely found in Gods and Kings,  
Whose words are deeds, but deeds nor words regarded:  
chased thoughts do mount and fly with swiftest wings,  
My love with pain, my pain with loss rewarded:  
engrave vpon this three, Daphnes perfection,  
That neither men nor gods, can force affection.  
The song ended, the three riued, and Daphne issued out, Apollo ran after, with these words.  
NImpha mane, per me concordant carmina neruis.  
Faire Daphne stay, too chased because too faire,  
Yet fairer in mine eyes, because so chased,  
And yet because so chased, must I despair?  
And to despair, I yielded haue at last.  
shepherd possess thy love, for me too cruel,  
possess thy love, thou knowest not how to measure,  
A dunghill cock doth often find a jewel,  
enjoying that, he knows not to be treasure.  
When broomy beard, to sweep thy lips presume,  
When on thy neck, his rough hewn arms shall move,  
And gloate on thee with eyes that drizell rheum,  
When that his toothless mouth shall call thee love,  
flight will I say of him, but pity thee,  
That btauty might, but would no wiser bee.  
Daphne running to her majesty uttered this.  
I stay, for whether should chastety fly for succour, but to the queen of chastety, by thee was I interred in a three, that by craft, way might be made to lust, by your highnes restored, that by virtue, there might be assurance in honor: these tables, to set down your praises long since Sibillas prophesies I humbly present to your majesty, not thinking, that your virtues can be deciphered in so slight a volume, but noted; the whole world is drawn in a small map, Homers Illiades in a mercers-chapel, and the riches of a Monarch, in a few ciphers, and so much odds, betwixt explaining of your perfections, and the touching, as is betwixt painting and thinking, the one, running over a little table in a whole day, the other over the whole world in a minute, with this vouchsafe a poor virgins wish, that often wish for good husbands, mine, only for the endless prosperity of my sovereign.  
The verses, written in the tables which were given to her majesty.  

LET famed describe your rare perfection,  
Let nature paint your beuties glory,  
Let love engrave your true affection,  
Let wonder writ your virtues story,  
By them and Gods must you be blazed,  
Sufficeth men they stand amazed.    

The third day should haue been presented to her majesty, the high Constable of Cotsholde but the weather so unfit, that it was not. But this it should haue been, one clothed all in sheepes-skins, face & all spake this by his interpreter.  
MAy it please your highnes, this is the great Constable and commandadore of Cotsholde, he speaks no language, but the Rammish tongue, such sheepishe gouernours there are, that can say no more to a messenger then he,( Bea), this therfore, as signifying his duty to your majesty, and al our desires, I am commanded to be his interpreter, or shepherds star, pointing directly to Cotshold, and in Cotshold, to Sudley, made us expect some wonder, and of the eldest, ask some counsel, it was resolved by the ancientst, that such a one should come, by whom all the shepherds should haue their flocks in safety, & their own lives, all the country quietness, & the whole world astonishment: our Constable commands this day to be kept holiday, all our shepherds are assembled, and if shepherds pastimes may please, how joyful would they be if it would please you to see them; which if you vouchsafe not, as pastimes too mean for your majesty, they mean to call this day the shepherds black day; in all humility we entreat, that you would cast an eye to their rude devices, and an ear to their harsh words, and if nothing happen to be pleasing, the amends is, nothing shal be tedious.  
After this speech her majesty was to be brought among the shepherds among whom was a King and a queen to be chosen and thus they began.  Melibaeus. Nisa. Cutter of Cootsholde. mell. 
CVT the Cake, who hath the bean; shal be King, and where the peaze is, shee shalbe queen.  Nis. 
I haue the peaze, and must be queen.  mell. 
I the bean and King, I must cammaunde.  Nis. 
Not so, the queen, shall and must command, for I haue often heard of a King that could not command his subiects, and of a queen that hath commanded Kings.  mell. 
I yield, yet is it within compass of my authority to ask questions and first I will begin with you in love, I mean shepherds love, for I will not meddle with Gentlefolkes love, which is most constant, the man or the woman?  Nis. 
It is no question, no more then if you should ask whether on a steep hill, a square ston, or a globe stood most steady.  mell. 
Both loving, which is most loving?  Nis. 
The woman if she haue her right, the man, if he be his own judge.  mell. 
Why doth the man ever woe the woman, the woman never the man?  Nis. 
Because men are most amorous and least chased, women careless of fonde affections, and when they embrace them, fearful. But unless your questions were writer, I command you to silence. You sirra, that sit as though your wits were a woole-gathering will you haue a question, or a commandment?  Cut. 
No question of a queen, for they are hard to be answered, but any commandment, for that must be obeied.  Nis. 
Then sing, and you sir, a question, or commandment?  Do. 
A commandment I, and glad that I am?  Nis. 
Then play:  Do. 
I haue played so long with my fingers that I haue beaten out of play al my good fortunes  

The Song.  

herbs, words, and stones, all maladies haue cured,  
herbs, words, and stones, I used when I loved,  
herbs smells, words, wind, stones hardness haue procured,  
By stones, nor words, nor herbs her mind was moved;  
I asked the cause, this was a womans reason,  
'mongst herbs are weeds, and thereby are refused,  
deceit, as well as truth speaks words in season,  
False stones by foils haue many one abused,  
I sight, and then shee said my fancy smoked,  
I gazed, shee said my looks were follies glancing,  
I sounded deade, shee said my love was choked,  
I started up, shee said my thoughts were dancing,  
O sacred love if thou haue any Godhead,  
Teach other rules to win a maidenheade.    mell. 
Well song, & well played, seldom so well among shepherds, but call me the Cutter of Cotsholde, that looks as though he only knew his leripoope, amorous he is, and wise, carrying a sheeps eye in a calfs head.  Nis. 
Will you 3 questions, or 3 commandments?  Cut. 
half a dozen of each. My wits work like new bear, and they will break my head, unless it vent at the mouth.  Nis. 
Sing,  Cut. 
I haue forsworn that since cuckow-time, for I heard, one sing all the summer, and in the winter was all bald.  Nis. 
Play on the Lute.  Cut. 
tailors craft, a knock on the knuckles, will make one fast a fortnight, my belly and back shall not be retainers to my fingers.  Nis. 
What question shall I ask?  Cut. 
Any so it be of love.  Nis. 
Are afric amorous?  Cut. 
No, but fantastical.  Nis. 
But what is love?  Cut. 
A single accidence. In love there are eight partes. 

Ioy  
Hope  
Truth  
Constancy   all tolerable. 

Sorrow  
Anger  
jealousy  
despair   all intolerable.  
These contain all, till you come to the rules, and then in love, there are three concords. 

1 The first, betwixt a bachelor, and a maid,  
2 The second, betwixt a man and his wife,  
3 The third, betwixt any he and she, that loveth straggling.    Nis. 
The fool bleeds, it is time to stop his vain, for having wet his foot, he careth not how deep he wades. Let us attend that, which we most expect. the star, that directs us hither, who hath in almanac?  Cut. 
What mean you, a starmonger, the quipper of the firmament, here is one. I ever carry it, to know the hye byways, to every good hewn, the fairs, and the faire weather.  mell. 
Let me see it. The seventh of September, happiness was born into the world, it may be the eleventh is some wonder. The moon at the full, tis true, for Cynthia never shined so bright, the twelfth the weather inclined to moisture & shepherds devises to dryenes, the thirteenth, summer, goeth from hence, the sign in virgo, vivat clarissimae virgo. The diseases shalbe melancholies, some proceeding of necessity, some of superfluity, many shalbe studying how to spend what they haue, more, beating their brains to get what they want. Malice shalbe more infectious then the pestilence, and Drones more favoured then Ants, as for Bees, they shal haue but their labour for their pains, and when their combs be full, they shalbe stilde; the war shal be, twixt hemlock and honey. At four of the clock this day, shal appear the worlds wonder that leads England into every land, and brings all lands into England.  
Then espying her majesty, he & al the shepherds kneeling, concluded thus.  
THis is the day, this the hour, this the star, pardon dread sovereign, poor shepherds pastimes, and bold shepherds presumptions. We call ourselves Kings and queens to make mirth, but when we see a King or queen, we stand amazed. The sun warms the earth, yet looseth no brightness; but sheweth more force, & Kings names that fall vpon shepherds, loose no dignity, but breed more fear. Their pictures are drawn in colours, and in brass their portraytures engraven. At chests, there are Kings, and queens, & they of wood. shepherds are no more, nor no less, woodden. In theatres, artificers haue played Emperours, yet the next day forgotten, neither their dueties nor occupations. For our boldness in borrowing their names, and in not seeing your majesty for our blindness, we offer these shepherds weeds, which, if your majesty vouchsafe at any time to wear, it shall bring to our hearts comfort, and happiness to our labours.   

The 28. of September, her majesty went from oxford to Ricort, where an old gentleman, sometimes a soldier, delivered this speech.  
VOVCHSAFE dread sovereign, after so many smooth speeches of Muses, to hear a rough hewn tale of a soldier, wee use not with words, to amplify our conconceites, and to plead faith by figures, but by deeds, to show the loyalty of our harts, and to make it good with our lives. I mean not to recount any service, all proceeding of duty, but to tell your majesty, that I am past al service, save only devotion. My horse, mine armor, my shield, my sword, the riches of a young soldier, and an old souldiers relics, I should here offer to your highnesse, but my four boys haue stolen them from me, vowing themselves to arms, and leaving me to my prayers, fortune giveth success, fidelitye courage, chance cannot blemish faith, nor truth prevent destinye, whatever happen, this is their resolution, and my desire, that their lives may, be employed wholly in your service, and their deaths, bee their vows sacrifice. Their deaths, the rumour of which, hath so often affrighted the crow my wife, that her hart, hath been as black as her feathers. I know not whether it be affection, or fondness, but the crow thinketh her own birds the fairest, because to her they are dearest. What joys we both conceive, neither can express, sufficeth they be, as your virtues, infinite. And although, nothing be more unfit to lodge your majesty, then a crows nest, yet shall it be most happy to us, that it is by your highnesse, made a Phoenix nest. Quicolor after erat, nunc est contrarius atro. Vouchsafe this trifle, 
A faire gown.  and with this my heart, the greatest gift I can offer, and the chiefest, that I ought.   

On Sunday, her majesty going to the garden, received with sweet music of sundry sorts, the old Gentleman meeting her, said thus.  
PArdon dread sovereign, the greatness of my presumption, who having nothing to say, must follow stil to wonder, but saft, some news out of ireland.  
A letter delivered by an Irish lacque, in which was enclosed, a dart of gold, set with Diamonds, & after the letter red, delivered to her majesty, with this motto in Irish, I fly onely for my sovereign.  
MY deuty humbly remembered. It is said, the wind is unconstant, I am glad it is, otherwise had not I heard that, which I most wished, and least looked for. The wind blowing stiffly in the west, on the sudden turned easterly, by which means I received letters, that her majesty would bee at Rycort, nothing could happen to me more happy, unless it were myself to be thereto do my duty. But I am a stranger in mine own country, and almost unknown to my bestfrends, onely remembered by her majesty, whose late favours, haue made me more than fortunate. I should accūot my ten years absence a flat banishment, were I not honoured in her majesties service, which hath bound all my affections, prentices to patience. In all humility, I desire this Dart to be delivered, an Irish weapon, and this wish of an English heart, that in whose hart faith is not fastened, a dart may. I can scarce writ for ioy, and it is likely, this lacque cannot speak for wondering. If he do not, this is all that I should say, that my life is my dueties bondman, duty my faiths sovereign.  
The Dart delivered, a skipper coming from flanders, delivered another letter, with a key of gold, set with Diamonds with, this motto in dutch, I only open to you.  
MY duty remembered, The enemy of late hath made many braueadoes, even to the gates of Ostend, but the success was onely a flourish. myself walking on the Ramparts, to over see the Sentenels, descried a pink, of whom I inquired, where the Court was, he said he knew not, but that the 28. of September, her majesty would be at Rycort. I was ouer-ioyed, & in making hast to remember my duty, I had almost forgot it, for I was shipping myself for England, with this Skipper, but to come without leave, might be to return without welcome. To signify that my hart is there, I most humbly entreat, that this Key may be presented, the Key of ostend, & Ostend the Key of flanders, the wards are made of true harts, treachery cannot counterfeit the Key, nor treason herself pick the lock. None shal turn it, but whom her majesty commands, none can. For myself, I can but wish, all happiness to her highnes, & any occasion, that what my tongue delivers, my blood may seal, the end of my service, that in her service, my life may end.  
The Key delivered, a french page. came with three other letters, the one written to the lady squeamish, which being mistaken by a wrong superscription, was red before her majesty. In the second was enclosed a sword of gold, set with Diamonds and Rubyes, with this motto in french, drawn only in your defence. In the third was enclosed a trunchion set with Diamonds, with his motto in Spanish, I do not command but under you.  
A letter, written by a soldier to his Mistris the Lady squeamish.  
FAire Lady and sweet Mistris, I seldom writ, because I writ not well, if I speak, you say I chatter, because I speak so fast, & when I am silent, you think me careless. You say love cannot be in soldiers, I swear it is, only this the difference, that we prove it by the sword, others, by their sonnets theirs ink, black for cold, ours blood, red for heat. often haue you told me, that I know not what love is, & often haue I told you, that this it is, that which makes the head ache, and the hart to; the eyes jealous, and the ears to, the liver black, & the Splen to, the veins shrink & the purse to. Wit is but loues wire drawer, making of a short passion an endless persuasion, yet no more mettall. You object, that I haue many Mistrisses, I answer, you haue ten times as many seruants, and if you should pick a quarrel, why should not I bring my Mistresses into the field against your seruants? But inconstancy is a souldiers scar, it is true, but the wound came by constancy; what a patient virtue is staidnes? like a nail in a door, rusty, because never removed, I cannot be so superstitious as these nice louers, who make the pax of their mistris hands, tis flat popery. I would not purchase love in fee simplo, a lease of two years to me were tedious. I mean not, to haue my tongue ringed at my Mistris ear like a jewel, always whispering of love, I am no earewigg, nor can I endure still to gaze on her face, as though my eyes were bodkins to stick in her hair. Let me haue my love answered, and you shall find me faithful, in which if you make delays, I cannot be patient, the wind calls me away, and with the wind, away shall my affections.  
The second Letter.  
MY duty to your L. remembered &c. Being ready to take shipping, I heard that her majesty would honor Ricort, with her presence, which wrought no small content, but to haue made it full, I wished I might haue seen it. In this place is no choice of any thing, whereby I might signify my dutiful affection, but that which a soldier maketh his chiefest choice, a sword, which most humbly I desire to haue presented to her highnes. With this protestation pourde from my hart, that in her service, I will spend the blood of my hart. Eloquence & I, am vowde enemies, loyalty & I, sworn brothers, what my words cannot effect, my sword shall.  
The third Letter from the Sea cost.  
MY duty humbly remembered, the same time that I received letters that her majesty would be at Ricort, the wind served for britain, I was over ioied with both, yet stood in a mamering whether I should take the opportunity of the wind, which I long expected or ride post to do my duty, which I most desired, necessity controlled affection, that bid me unless I could keep the wind in a bag, to use the winds when they blew, I obaide yet, wishing that they would turn for a while, to serve my turn, being unfurnished, of al fit presents. I would haue this my excuse that cheapside is not in my ship, & therefore haue nothing to offer but my Trunchion the honour which I received of her majesty, by whom I am only to be commanded, & ever else let me be only miserable and ever.  
These Letters red, and the presents delivered, the old man kneeling down ended thus.  
THat my sons, haue remembered their dueties, it is my harts comfort, that your majesty accepteth thē, their harts heaven. If fortune, & fidelity had been twins, they might haue been as rich, as faithful, but this is the Iubyle of my life, that their faiths, are without spot, and your majesty I hope, confident, without suspicion. Among my joys, there is one grief, that my daughter, the Mistris of a Moole hil, hath so much forgotten; that most she should remember, duty. I doubt not her excuse, because shee is a woman, but fear the truth, of it, because it must be to her sovereign. For myself, my crow, and all our birds, this I promise, that they are all; as faithful in their feathers, as they were in their shells.  
This being done, there was swcete music, and two sonnets which ended, her majesty went in.  
On monday morning, as her majesty was to take horse, a messenger, coming out of jersey, and bringing a Daysie of gold, set with Rubies, delivered it to her majesty with this speech.  
AT length, though very late, I am come, from the lady of the Moold hill, sent long since, but the passage troublesone, at every miles end, a lover, at every sentence end a lye, I ovid to hear, the conclusions, and found nutbrowne girls to be cheapned. But none to be bought, but the amiable. Thus much for my excuse, now for my Mistris, who hearing that your majesty would enter this cabin, was astonished, with secondary, and doubt, secondary, for so great honour done to her father. Doubt, by what means shee might show her duty to your majesty. At the last, sitting vpon the top of a moole hill, she espied, a read Daysie, the fairest flower, that barren place doth yield, which, with all humility she presents to your majesty, it hath no sweetness, yet many virtues, her hart no tongue, but infinite affections, In you she saith are all virtues, and towards you all her affections.  
FINIS.