=< 2 a ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP THE Bi-literal Cypher of S ir Francis Bacon difcovered in his works AND DECIPHERED BY MRS. ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP THIRD EDITION DETROIT, MICHIGAN, U. S. A.: HOWARD PUBLISHING COMPANY LONDON: CAY 6 BIRD 22 Bedford St. ' -^x PR WO | Copyright, 1901. BY V. KING MOORE. ENTERED AT STATIONERS' HALL, LONDON, 1901. All rights reserved. CONTENTS. PART I. PAGE Personal Mrs. Elizabeth Wells Gallup 1 Explanatory Introduction First Edition 6 Preface, Second Edition 15 Argument 18 Notes on the Shakespeare Plays 28 Stenography in th*e time of Queen Elizabeth 35 Francis Bacon, Biographical 39 Ciphers 46 Cyphars in Advancement of Learning, 1605 49 Cyphars in De Augmentis 50 Bi-literal Cipher Plan and Illustration 51 Fac-simile pages from De Augmentis, 1624 55 Fac-simile pages from Novum Organum, 1620 61 Fac-simile title page Vitae et Mortis 67 Method of Cipher in Novum Organum 73 Publisher's Note. 76 Shakespeare Plays Fac-simile Quarto Title Pages 85 BI-LITERAL CYPHER. DECIPHERED SECRET STORY. 1579 to 1590. Shepherd's Calender 1579 '. . .Anonymous 79 The Araygnement of Paris . . .1584 George Peele 80 The Mirrour of Modestie 1584 Robert Greene 82 Planetomachia 1585 Robert Greene 87 A Treatise of Melancholy 1586 T. Bright 89 Euphues-Morando 1587 Robert Greene 91 Perimedes-Pandosto 1588 Robert Greene 93 Spanish Masquerade 1589 Robert Greene 94 PAKT II. DECIPHERED SECRET STORY FROM EDMUND SPENSER: PAGE Complaints, 1591 ..,. 1 Colin Clout, 1595 3 Faerie Queene, 1596 4 Faerie Queene, second part 7 SHAKESPEARE QUARTO: Richard Second, 1598 10 GEORGE PEELE: David and Bethsabe 11 SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS: Midsommer Night's Dream, 1600 12 Midsommer Night's Dream, Fisher Ed 13 Much Ado About Nothing, 1600 14 Sir John Oldcastle and Merchant of Venice, Roberts Ed., 1600 15 Richard, Duke o^ York, 1600 18 FRANCIS BACON: Treasons of Essex, 1601 20 SHAKESPEARE QUARTO: London Prodigal, 1605 23 FRANCIS BACON: Advancement of Learning, 1605 25 SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS: King Lear, 1608 33 King Henry The Fifth, 1608 34 Pericles, 1609 35 Hamlet, 1611 36 Titus Andronicus, 1611 38 EDMUND SPENSER: PAGE Shepheards Calender, 1611 40 Faerie Queene, 1613 43 BEN JONSON: Plays in Folio, 1616 49 SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS: Richard The Second, 1615 72 Merry Wives of Windsor, 1619 73 Contention of York and Lancaster, 1619 74 Pericles, 1619 '. 77 Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619 78 Romeo and Juliet, no date 79 ROBERT GREENE: A Quip For an Upstart Courtier, 1620 80 FRANCIS BACON: Novum Organum, 1620 81 The Parasceve 133 Henry The Seventh, 1622 136 CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE: Edward The Second, 1622 151 FRANCIS BACON: Historia Vitae & Mortis, 1623 153 SHAKESPEARE PLAYS: First Folio, 1623 165 ROBERT BURTON: Anatomy of Melancholy, 1628 218 "Argument of the Iliad" 220 FRANCIS BACON: De Augmentis Scientiarum, 1624 310 "Argument of the Odysses" 313 New Atlantis, 1635 334 Sylva Sylvarum, 1635, Rawley's Preface 339 Natural History 341 William Rawley's Note 368 FRANCIS BACON: Parentage 2, 4, 17, 23, 45, 57, 78, 139, 172, 208, 312, 334, 347, 351. Heir to Throne of England 5, 10, 14, 16, 20, 28, 33, 38, 49, 53, 66, 75, 83, 91, 100, 129, 132, 137, 141, 152, 166, 177, 190, 201, 205, 311, 342, 350, 353. Story of Life 28, 49, 55, 65, 83, 108, 109, 119, 121, 133, 153, 166, 172, 181, 186, 190, 192, 200, 206, 208, 310, 343, 335. Remorse over Essex and self justification 21, 40, 47, 104, 112, 160, 181, 211. Fears 1, 3, 9, 11, 13, 27, 69, 81, 102, 129, 148, 187, 212, 343, 346, 348. Hope from the Ages 13, 27, 36, 47, 49, 53, 71, 82, 116, 189, 190, 201, 208, 312, 346, 348. Hope of Kingdom 46. Kingdom of Science 190, 312. Prayers 42, 10$, 139, 160, 178, 186, 211, 338. Posterity 16, 71, 189, 190, 201, 219, 358. QUEEN ELIZABETH: 1, 5, 10, 14, 16, 19, 22, 28, 33, 38, 41, 51, 59, 67, 69, 73, 83, 90, 108, 111, 119, 121, 130, 137, 154, 172, 177, 179, 181, 199, 205, 210, 311, 334, 351, 366. EARL LEICESTER: 1, 4, 16, 17, 45, 59, 69, 71, 75, 84, 140, 207, 210, 359, 363. Their Marriage 3, 16, 22, 28, 38, 46, 73, 75, 83, 90, 108, 133, 139, 142, 15-4, 172, 312, 334. EARL OF ESSEX: 14, 17, 43, 59, 62, 68, 84, 111, 134, 183, 210, 310, 353, 360. Essex Rebellion 20, 29, 38, 40, 47, 76, 172, 180, 208. Essex Trial 42, 172. Essex Murther 20, 55, 112, 151, 159, 172, 174, 178, 188. MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS: 61, 63, 68, 362. Death Warrant signed by Davison 365. MARGUERITE OF NAVARRE: 12, 72, 79, 118, 120, 174, 181, 203, 205, 214, 311, 336, 3-15. ROBERT CECIL: 10, 12, 18, 28, 172, 174, 335, 362. WILLIAM RAWLEY: 137, 340, 368. PRIVATE SECRETARY (RAWLEY): '198. CIPHERS: Bi-literal 23, 25, 37, 51, 65, 70, 102, 111, 118, 120, 126, 129, 136, 165, 167, 189, 192, 196, 203, 215, 218, 310, 338, 357. Word 38, 40, 47, 49, 52, 54, 56, 69, 75, 80, 82, 84, 101, 106, 110. 114, 118, 143, 148, 155, 159, 161, 165, 171, 177, 181, 183, 187, 189, 191, 194, 200, 215, 218, 312, 343, 346. Other Ciphers 21, 37, 47, 66, 118, 152, 166, 181, 191, 196, 310, 338, 340. Directions 34, 40, 47, 49, 51, 55, 57, 98, 122, 147, 151, 310, 338. Method of Construction 53, 94, 119, 146, 187, 196, 214, 341, 343, 356, 360. Iterant Rules 52, 215, 349, 352. Bi-literal made difficult 66, 67, 82, 101, 136, 196. MASQUES USED: Edmund Spenser 4, 10, 27, 53, 81, 85, 111, 168, 180, 198, 204, 311. William Shakespeare 3, 39, 54, 56, 63, 70. 93. 101, 111, 115, 157, 158, 166, 181, 198, 200, 204, 348. Christopher Marlowe 3, 10, 26, 53, 93, 111, 166, 180, 181, 198, 200, 204, 349. Robert Greene 3, 10, 26, 53, 111, 166, 180, 181, 198, 200, 204, 311, 349. George Peele 3, 10, 26, 53, 93, 111, 152, 166, 180, 181, 198, 200, 204, 214, 311, 349. Robert Burton 10, 111, 114. 152, 198, 200, 204. Ben Jonson 26, 54, 59, 68, 111. PARTIES KNOWING OF THE HIDDEN WORK: 76. CIPHER WRITINGS: 165, 166, 202. HIDDEN PLAYS: 23, 59, 90, 97, 103, 117, 125, 151, 180, 189, 194, 213, 352, 360, 367. HIDDEN POEMS: 36, 95, 118, 165, 175, 202, 345. NEW ATLANTIS COMPLETED IN CIPHER: 47, 130, 165, 359. SPANISH ARMADA IN CIPHER: 63, 184, 199. ARGUMENTS OF THE HIDDEN PLAYS: 5, 60, 85, 92. TRANSLATIONS: 34, 36, 49, 53, 57, 114, 151, 165, 166, 167, 169, 170, 171, 173, 180, 202, 204, 214, 216, 218, 219, 341, 345, 352, 360. Iliad 220. Odyssey 312. ORIGINAL EDITIONS OP WORKS USED IN DECIPHERING. CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED. EDMUND SPENSER: Complaints, 1590-1591 Dodd, Mead & Co. Colin Clout, 1595 Dodd, Mead & Co. The Faerie Queene, 1596 Dodd, Mead & Co. and Harvard Library. The Shepherd's Calendar, 1611 Howard Publishing Co. The Faerie Queene, 1613 Howard Publishing Co. ROBERT GREENE: A Quip for an Upstart Courtier, 1620... Marshall C. Lefferts, New York. GEORGE PEELE: David and Bathsabe, 1599 Boston Public Library. * 9 CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE: Edward II., 1622 Howard Publishing Co. BEN JONSON: Entertainment, 1616 Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. King's Coronation, 1616 Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. A Panegyre, 1616 Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. The Masques, 1616 Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. Sejanus, 1616 Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. Plays, in Folio, 1616. (Perfect copy.) Marshall C. Lefferts, New York. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: Richard II., 1598 Boston Public Library. Midsummer Night's Dream, Rob- erts Ed., 1600 Lenox Library, New York. Midsummer Night's Dream, Fish- er Ed., 1600 Boston Public Library. Much Ado About Nothing, 1600.... Boston Public Library. Sir John Oldcastle, 1600 Boston and Lenox Libraries. Merchant of Venice, J. Roberts Ed., 1600 Boston Public Library. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: Richard Duke of York (Third Henry VI.), 1600 Boston Public Library. A London Prodigal, 1605 Lenox Library. King Lear, 1608 Boston Public Library. Henry V., 1608 Boston Public Library. Pericles, 1609 Boston Public Library. Hamlet, 1611 Boston Public Library. Titus Andronicus, 1611 Boston Public Library. Richard II., 1615 Boston Public Library. Merry Wives of Windsor, 1619 Boston Public Library. The Whole Contention of the Houses of York and Lancaster, (Second Henry VI.), 1619 Boston and Lenox Libraries. Pericles, 1619 Boston and Lenox Libraries. A Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619 Boston and Lenox Libraries. Romeo and Juliet, (No date) Boston Public Library. Plays in Folio, 1623 Howard Publishing Co. and Boston and Lenox Libraries. FRANCIS BACON : A Declaration of the Treasons of Essex, 1601 John Dane, M. D., Boston, Mass., and Boston Library. Advancement of Learning, 1605 Howard Publishing Co. Novum Organum, 1620 Howard Publishing Co. The Parasceve, 1620 Howard Publishing Co. History of Henry VII. , 1622 Howard Publishing Co. Vitae et Mortis, 1623 John Dane, M. D., Boston, Mass. De Augmentis Scientiarum, 1624... Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. New Atlantis, 1635 Howard Publishing Co. Sylva Sylvarum, 1635 Howard Publishing Co. ROBERT BURTON: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1628.. Howard Publishing Co. PART I. The human understanding, when it has once adopted an opinion (either as being the received opinion, or as being agreeable to itself), draws all things else to sup- port and agree with it. And though there be a greater number and weight of instances to be found on the other side, yet these he neglects and despises, or else by some distinction sets aside and rejects, in order that by this great and pernicious predetermination the authority of its former conclusions may be inviolate. NOVUM ORGANUM. For as Soloman saith: He that cometh to seek after knowledge, with a mind to scorn and censure, shall be sure to find matter for his humor, but no matter for his instruction. ADV. OF LEARNING. We have set it down as a law to ourselves to examine things to the bottom, and not to receive upon credit, or reject upon improbabilities, until there have been passed a due examination. NATURAL, HISTORY. In which sort of things it is the manner of men, first to wonder that such thing should be possible, and after it is found out, to wonder again how the world should miss it so long. VALERIUS TERMINUS. PEKSONAL. TO THE READER: The discovery of the existence of the Bi-literal Cipher of Francis Bacon, found embodied in his works, and the deciphering of what it tells, has been a work arduous, ex- hausting and prolonged. It is not ended, but the results of the work so far brought forth, are submitted for study and discussion, and open a new and large field of investi- gation and research, which cannot fail to interest all stu- dents of the earlier literature that has come down to us as a mirror of the past, and in many respects has been adopted as models for the present. Seeking for things hidden, the mysterious, elusive and unexpected, has a fascination for many minds, as it has for my own, and this often prompts to greater effort than more manifest and material things would command. To this may be attributed, perhaps, the triumph over diffi- culties which have seemed to me, at times, insurmountable, tne solution of problems, and the following of ways tor- tuous and obscure, which have been necessary to bring out, as they appear in the following pages, the hidden mes- sages which Francis Bacon so securely buried in his writ- ings, that three hundred years of reading and close study nave not until now uncovered them. This Bi-literal Cipher is found in the Italic letters that appear in such unusual and unexplained prodigality in the original editions of Bacon's works. Students of these old editions have been impressed with the extraordinary num- ber of words and passages, often non-important, printed in Italics, where no known rule of construction would require their use. There has been no reasonable explanation of this until now it is found that they were so used for the 2 PERSONAL. purposes of this Cipher. These letters are seen to be in two forms two fonts of type with marked differences. In the Capitals these are easily discerned, but the distin- guishing features in the small letters, from age of the books, blots and poor printing, have been more difficult to classify, and close examination and study have been re- quired to separate and sketch out the variations, and edu- cate the eye to distinguish them. How I found the Cipher, its difficulties, methods of working, and outline of what the several books contain, will more fully appear in the explanatory introduction. In assisting Dr. Owen in the preparation of the later books of "Sir Francis Bacon's Cipher Story," recently pub- lished, and in the study of the great Word-Cipher discov- ered by him, in which is incorporated Bacon's more exten- sive, more complete and important writings, I became con- vinced that the very full explanation found in De Aug- mcntis, of the bi-literal method of cipher-writing, was something more than a mere treatise on the subject. I applied the rules given to the peculiarly Italicised words and "letters in two forms," as they appear in the photo- graphic Fac-simile of the original 1623, Folio edition, of the Shakespeare Plays. The disclosures, as they appear in this volume, were as great a surprise to me, as they will be to my readers. Original editions of Bacon's known works were then procured, as well as those of other authors named in these, and claimed by Bacon as his own. The story deciphered from these will also appear under the sev- eral headings. From the disclosures found in all these, it is evident that Bacon expected this Bi-literal Cipher would be the first to be discovered, and that it would lead to the discovery of his principal, or Word-Cipher, which it fully explains, and to which is intrusted the larger subjects he desired to have preserved. This order has been reversed, in fact, and the earlier discovery of the Word-Cipher, by Dr. Owen, becomes a more remarkable achievement, being entirely PERSONAL. 3 evolved without the aids which Bacon had prepared in this, for its elucidation. The proofs are overwhelming and irresistible that Bacon was the author of the delightful lines attributed to Spen- ser, the fantastic conceits of Peele and Greene, the his- torical romances of Marlowe, the immortal plays and poems put forth in Shakespeare's name, as well as the Anatomy of Melancholy of Burton. The removal of these masques, behind which Bacon concealed himself, may change the names of some of our idols. It is, however, the matter and not the name that appeals to our intelligence. The plays of Shakespeare lose nothing of their dramatic power or wondrous beauty, nor deserve the less admiration of the scholar and critic, because inconsistencies are re- moved in the knowledge that they came from the brain of the greatest student and writer of that age, and were not a "flash of genius" descended upon one of peasant birth, less noble history, and of no preparatory literary attain- ments. The Shepherds' Calendar is not less sweetly poetical, because Francis Bacon appropriated the name of Spenser, several years after his death, under which to put forth the musical measures, that had, up to that time, only appeared as the production of some Muse without a name; nor will Faerie Queene lose ought of its rythmic beauty or romantic interest from change of name upon the title page. The supposed writings of Peele, Greene and Marlowe are not the less worthy, because really written by one greater than either. The remarkable similarity in the dramatic writings at- tributed to Greene, Peele, Marlowe and Shakespeare has attracted much attention, and the biographers of each have claimed that both style and subject-matter have been imi- tated, if not appropriated, by the others. The practical explanation lies in the fact that one hand wrote them all. 4 PERSONAL. I fully appreciate what it means to bring forth new truth from unexpected and unknown fields, if not in ac- cord with accepted theories and long held beliefs. "For what a man had rather were true, he more readily be- lieves," is one of Bacon's truisms that finds many illus- trations. I appreciate what it means to ask strong minds to change long standing literary convictions, and of such I venture to ask the withholding of judgment until study shall have made the new matter familiar, with the assurance mean- while, upon my part, of the absolute veracity of the work which is here presented. Any one possessing the original books, who has sufficient patience and a keen eye for form, can work out and verify the Cipher from the illustrations given. ISTothing is left to choice, chance, or the imagina- tion. The statements which are disclosed are such as could not be foreseen, nor imagined, nor created, nor can there be found reasonable excuse for the hidden writings, except for the purposes narrated, which could only exist concerning, and be described by, Francis Bacon. I would beg that the readers of this book will 1 bring to the consideration of the work minds free from prejudice, judging of it with the same intelligence and impartiality they would themselves desire, if the presentation were their own. Otherwise the work will, indeed, have been a thank- less task. To doubt the ultimate acceptance of the truths brought to light would be to distrust that destiny in which Bacon had such an abiding faith for his justification, and which, in fact, after three centuries, has lifted the veil, and brought us to estimate the character and accomplishments, trials and sorrows of that great genius, with a feeling of nearness and personal sympathy, far greater than has been possible from the partial knowledge which we have here- tofore enjoyed. ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP. Detroit, March 1st, 1899. EXPLANATORY INTRODUCTION. (FIRST EDITION.) The most important literary discovery of the day is that the well known Bi-literal Cipher of Francis Bacon runs through a considerable number of the original editions of the books of the Elizabethan era. The present vol- made by Mrs. Elizabeth Wells Gallup. The present vol- ume is the result of nearly three years spent in examining and translating from these old books the hidden stories which they contain stories startling and marvelous, which serve to illumine much that has been mysterious and unex- plainable concerning a most interesting period marked by scientific progress and prolific in literature of a high order. It was an age of intrigue and secret communication, and cipher writing was a necessary branch of education to those in public life. To Francis Bacon it became an absorbing- passion throughout his life, as may be judged from the voluminous and important matter now found to be infolded in his writings and which has, until now, escaped attention. In his work published in 1605, "Of the Advancement of Learning," he makes a topic of Ciphers, as a branch of educational progress, and hints at, but does not explain, the bi-literal method of Cipher-writing, while he was at the same time infolding, in the Italic letters of the book itself portions of his own secret history, and facts concern- ing the rebellion of Essex, in the manner in which he asserts such messages might be hidden. He continued to write Ciphers into his various works, published from time to time, until 1623, when, none having discovered the secret, the very success of the system seeming likely to defeat its object, and when all personal 6 INTRODUCTION. danger from a premature exposure of what he had written was past, he published in the Latin version of "De Aug- mentis Scientiarum" a clear and minute description and illustration of this Cipher, hoping that it would be under- stood, and fearing that nothing less would lead to its dis- covery and translation. The occasion for writing in cipher has been made appar- ent as the decipherings have progressed, for it became the means of conveying to a future time the truth which was being concealed from the world concerning himself, his royal birth his right to be King of England secrets of State regarding Queen Elizabeth his mother and other prominent characters of that day the correction of Eng- lish history in important particulars, and the exposure of the wrongs that had been put upon him. Added to this, and most important of all to the ambi- tions of his latter days, was the hope of thus bringing to the knowledge of the world the greater field of literature which he had occupied, unknown at that time, and unsus- pected until recently, as the author of many books which had been accredited to other names, and thereby secure in the world of letters the wider fame and glory which he craved, and which was his just due. The names, other than his own, under which Bacon published the brilliant literature of that era, were Christo- pher Marlowe, George Peele, Robert Greene, Edmund Spenser, William Shakespeare, and Robert Burton. The Ciphers (more than one) are found in all these. The Bi- literal Cipher runs through the works of Ben Jonson and five of the shorter parts are from Bacon's pen. Shepherds' Calendar was first published in 1579, nor was it till 1611, twelve years after Spenser's death, that it was published with Faerie Queene and attributed to Spenser. That Francis Bacon wrote the Shakespeare Plays, and the existence of Ciphers in them, has long been suspected, and much time and study devoted to arguing, pro and con, INTRODUCTION. 7 the several phases and probabilities of the question. The same questions had not been raised, nor suggestion of other authorship than appears upon the title pages, regarding the others, until the discovery by Dr. O. W. Owen of the prin- cipal, or AVord-Cipher, in the works of all of them, portions of which have already been published as "Sir Francis Bacon's Cipher Story." The translation of this bi-literal Cipher in the following pages, with its directions as to how the Word-Cipher is to be constructed, the keys to the different stories to be written, the guides as to where to find the matter pertaining to them, fully confirms what had already been found by Dr. Owen, and removes all possible doubt as to Bacon's authorship. In the present volume is presented that part of the hid- den writings which the bi-literal Cipher reveals in the fol- lowing works: Francis Bacon's Of the Advancement of Learning, .(1605), King Henry Seventh, (1622), De Augmentis Scientiarum, (1624) Sylva-Sylvarum and New Atlantis, (published by Rawley, 1635), Spenser's Shep- herds' Calendar and short poems, (1611), Faerie Queene, (1613), Jonson's Sejanus, and Masques, (1616), Mar- lowe's Edward Second, (1622), the Shakespeare Plays, (Folio 1623), Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, (1628). In all of these are fragments of Bacon's personal history, the statement that Elizabeth was the lawful wife of the Earl of Leicester by a secret marriage, before becoming Queen ; that the issue of this marriage was two sons, Fran- cis Bacon, so-called, and Robert Devereux, afterward Earl of Essex; that Francis was at birth received by Mistress Ann Bacon and was reared and educated as the son of Nicholas Bacon. It appears that at about the age of six- teen Francis discovered the facts of his nativity through the gossip of a Court lady, and in a fit of anger the Queen acknowledged to him her motherhood and his son-ship, and that he was immediately thereafter sent to France, and subsequent action was taken by which he was barred from 8 INTRODUCTION. the succession to the throne. In several of the books, though more notably in the Shakespeare Plays, are explana- tions of the "great Word-Cipher which shows all," with keys to the different stories, their titles and directions for deciphering them. In the Shakespeare Plays, the chief dramatic work of Bacon, is found the most important of the secret writings committed to the Ciphers. Here, in, exttnso, are the prin- cipal directions and manner of writing the Word-Cipher, the keys and guides, the different works to be used and the names under which they appear, the titles of the hidden stories to be written out, and where the matter of which they are to be constructed may be found. Much space is devoted to the secret personal history of ^imself and his brother, Robert, which the Queen saw fit to have concealed from general knowledge. His references to the trial and execution of Essex and the part he was forced to take in his prosecution, are the subject of a continual wail of unhappiness and ever-present remorse, with hopes and prayers that the truth hidden in the Cipher may be found out, and published to the world in his justification. "0 God! forgiveness cometh from Thee; shut not this truest book, my God! Shut out my past, love's little sunny hour, if it soe please Thee, and some of man's worthy work, yet Essex's tragedy here shew forth; then posterity shall know him truly." The various Introductions, Dedications, the Catalogue of Plays and Characters, the Prologues, the headings of the different Comedies, Histories and Tragedies (in the orcler named), comprising a series of short passages, giving, general directions for the work, are complete in themselves, and at the end of each division occurs seme one of the sig- natures by which Bacon was known, as if to authenticate what had been written. The more connected narrative is in the Plays, combined in the order as given (in cipher) in the Natural History, and in the Plays themselves as the deciphering advanced. INTRODUCTION. 9 In this order the plays are linked together in the most unmistakable manner, parts of words and sentences unfin- ished at the end of one finding completion or continuance in the next. Four breaks or omissions occur, however, from inability thus far to gain access to the original edi- tions of the books required, and from the fact that the modern editions do not contain this Bi-literal, though the Word-Cipher is easily traced in them. The first missing link is Peele's Old Wives' Tale, which should precede Twelfth Night. Its absence causes the latter to begin abruptly, showing the omission of something which should precede it in the deciphering. The second omission is the Pinner of Wakefield, published as Greene's work, which should precede the Merchant of Venice. The third omis- sion is the Jew of Malta, of Marlowe, which should precede the Merry Wives of Windsor. The fourth missing link is at the end of Much Ado About Nothing, which closes with an incomplete sentence, the remainder of which will be found in the Tale of Troy. Hiren the Faire Greek (sup- posed to be a lost play) should follow this and precede Win- ter's Tale, which last begins with a continuation of some- thing to be found in the missing work. The absence of these books is not material, however, as the substance of the Bi-literal story is so often repeated in the other works, they are not necessary to an understanding of the whole. On another page is copied from De Augmentis, as nearly as may be with modern type, the illustration of the method of infolding cipher writings by means of 'letters in two forms," the letters infolding being quintuple those in- folded. This plan was applied to the Italic letters, in the books mentioned, with results which have been most sur- prising in the variety and interest of the deciphered work. The rule is simple and easily comprehended, but many stumbling blocks occur in the books, placed there with the evident purpose of making the deciphering more difficult, which bring confusion to the work until removed. Each 10 INTRODUCTION. book has its own peculiarities different letters and forms a separate study. The first page of Henry VII., as it herein appears, will explain some peculiarities, the changes in the readings of the same forms of letters, the meaning of the dots and other unusual markings, which close .stu- dents of the old books have noted. Occasionally will be found a Roman letter in an Italic word; this has to be dis- regarded. Not infrequently Italic letters occur in a word, the remainder of which is in Roman; these must be used. There are occasional words in Roman type between words in Italic that have to be used to form the groups necessary to complete a Cipher word. In the illustration given in the original De Augmentis, one of the Latin words ends with a wrong termination, making one too many letters for the group, and must be omitted. The error is corrected in the English translation of 1640 and in subsequent editions. One of the most puzzling of the many strange things that have been observed but not explained has been the duplication and misplaced paging in the originals. These occur in nearly all the books that have been deciphered. There are several in the Folio Shakespeare Plays, and they are still more prominent in some of the other works. A list is appended, with explanation of the pages which are to be joined together in the deciphering. They bring the work into instant confusion, until the proper duplicate page is found and the two joined together in the order of pre- cedence in which they occur, until all of that number are deciphered, after which the consecutive pages continue the story until some other break occurs, which has in turn to be properly solved. Sometimes three, and in Advance- ment of Learning four misplaced pages are found of the same number in the same book. To illustrate more fully: the first wrong paging in the Folio Shakespeare occurs in Merry Wives of "Windsor. After page 49 are 58-51. In the consecutive order there- INTRODUCTION. 11 after, and following 58, is another 51. In deciphering, the first 58 must be omitted until the first 51 is deciphered; this must be followed by the second 51, then the regular order resumed. When page 57 has been deciphered, it must be followed by the first 58, and this by the second 58. There is no 50 or 59 in this division. In Comedy of Errors, page 85 is followed by page 88, then 87, then 88 again. In deciphering, page 85 must be followed by 87, this by the first 88, and this by the second 88. There is no 86. In Tempest, as deciphered, this direction occurs: "Now join King Lear, King John, Romeo & Juliet " etc. In the closing lines of King John, this: "Join Romeo with Troy's famous Oressida if you wish to know my story. Cressida in this play with Juliet, b " which ends the Cipher in King John, with an incomplete word. Turning to Romeo and Juliet (page 53) the remainder of the word, and the broken sentence is continued, being a part of the description of Marguerite, and the love Francis entertained for her. The deciphering of Romeo and Juliet proceeded with- out interruption until page 76 was finished. The next page is 79, but an attempt to go forward with it brought confusion, the subject-matter not joining or relating to the preceding subject. After much speculation and study, it was recalled that Troilus and Cressida was to follow, and that the first page of that play was 78. A trial of this page brought out the letter and words which connected with those on page 76 of Romeo and Juliet. At the end of 79, of Troilus and Cressida, again came confusion, but by joining Romeo and Juliet, 79, to this, and following by page 80 of Troilus and Cressida, the narration was con- tinued in proper order. There is no page 77 in Romeo and Juliet, or in this division of the book. Had the Cipher been less arbitrary, or subject to varia- tion, or the story the invention of the decipherer, less time 12 INTRODUCTION. and study would have been spent in finding joining parts,, and nothing would have been known of the reasons for wrong paging. Some Keys relating to other Cipher work not yet deci- phered are omitted. Spelling was not an exact science in any of the works of Bacon and if the old English is thought to be unique, it must be attributed to the unsettled orthography if the six- teenth century. Many abbreviations occur, marked by the Lt tilda" in the old English, but which are not used in mod- ern type. In the deciphered works the same diversity exists as in the originals, the exact text being followed letter by letter. Proper names, 'even, are not always spelled alike. There was marked progress, how r ever, in the period between the production of Bacon's first works and the last. To Bacon, in greater degree than to any other, has been accredited the enriching of the English language with new words, but the spelling and expression of them have been three centuries in crystalizing into the simplicity and uni- formity of the present schools. The Natural History, and ISTew Atlantis, was published some years after Bacon's death, by Dr. Rawley, the private secretary of whom Bacon speaks. In the Introduction and table of contents, Eawley tells (in Cipher) the circum- stances of its preparation. In the decyphering, the body of the book was first worked out. In the Eighth Century there came confusion of letters and it required considerable study to find that the fonts of type had been changed in some of the letters, i. e., what had been used as the "a" font was changed to the "b" font, either by mistake, or for purposes of confusion. After the main part of the book had been finished, the Introduction by Eawley and table of contents were deciphered, and this brought out that from the Eighth Century Rawley had completed the work, INTRODUCTION. 13 "yet I have stmnbliziglj proceeded with it and unwittingly used some letters wrongly, as B I L M N P S and Z." He also refers to his finishing Burton's Anatomy, (1628) the edition used in this volume. The reference to the signing of the death warrant of Mary Queen of 'Scots, by the Secretary, Davison, instead of by Elizabeth, and unknown to her, confirms what the most recent historians have noted, and explains some in- consistencies in the earlier accounts of Elizabeth's action. Perhaps the most remarkable results, and certainly the most unexpected, and greatest surprise, came from deci- phering De Augmentis, and Burton's Anatomy of Melan- choly. The history of the Anatomy is peculiar. It appears in the Catalogue of the British Museum under the assumed name of T. Bright, in the year 1586, or when Burton was only about ten years old. Greatly enlarged, it appears in 1621, and again in 1624, and again in 1628, and at two later dates, under the name of Robert Burton, a person of whom little is known, except as the supposed author of this work alone, and as a living example of the melancholy which it so felicitously describes. The Cipher mentions both Bright and Burton as names under which Bacon wrote the book, and also that the different editions contain a different Cipher story. The extraordinary part is that this edition conceals, in Cipher, a very full and extended prose summary argu- ment, Bacon calls it of a translation of Homer's Iliad. In order that there may be no mistake as to its being Bacon's work, he precedes the translation with a brief ref- erence to his royal birth and the wrongs he has suffered from being excluded from the throne. The Cipher also tells that in the marginal notes, which are used in large numbers in the book, may be found the argument to a translation of the ^Eneid, but this has not been deciphered. 14 INTRODUCTION. In De Augmentis is found a similar extended synopsis, or argument, of a translation of the Odyssey. This, too, is introduced with a reference to Bacon's personal history, and although the text of the book is in Latin the Cipher is in English. The decipherer is not a Greek scholar "and would be in- capable of creating these extended arguments, which differ widely in phrasing from any translation extant, and are written in a free and flowing style which will be recog- nized as Baconian. Homer was evidently a favorite author, and in all the books deciphered it is repeated that the translations, in Iambic verse, will be found in the Word-Cipher, and these summaries are to aid in the production of them. Close students of Shakespeare and Spenser have noted in the plays and poems many fragments of the Iliad, and a portion of that epic has already been deciphered. The books deciphered cover a period of about twenty years, in which Bacon was writing into them the secrets of his life. The repetitions of the sorrowful story take on the different moods in which he wrote and the variations of mental activity during that long period. Grieving over the tragic death of his brother, and his part in bringing it about, which was an ever present cause of remorse, and brooding over the wrongs and sorrows that had been forced upon himself, his mind passes through many changeful emotions as the years progress, and the Bi-literal Cipher becomes the receptacle of his plaints the escape valve of his momentary passions the record of his lost hopes, and the expression of those which he still cher- ished for the future in the prophecy, "I look out to the future, not of years, but of ages, knowing that my labours are for the benefit of a land very farr off, and after great length of time is past." ED. Detroit, March, 1899. PKEFACE. SECOND EDITION. Since the issue of the first small edition of "The Bi-literal Cipher of Sir Francis Bacon" in April, 1899, (limited to private circulation) the work of deciphering the hidden story found in the old original books has gone steadily for- ward, and the results are now presented with some gaps filled, and chronological order of writing much more closely followed through the increased number of volumes to which access has been made possible. The securing of the old original books necessary has been no slight task. The sources from which they have been obtained have been numerous. The first to be deciphered was our own photographic Fac-simile of the 1623 Folio-secured in London, from the scattered library of Lord Coleridge, the book having his signature upon the title page. The dis- closures found in this were the inspiration, and held the directions which have led to the prosecution of the work thus far so successfully accomplished. The private library of old editions belonging to Mrs. C. M. Pott, the eminent Baconian savante, of London, was placed at our disposal, yielding valuable material. The old book stores of London furnished some volumes. The collection of rare old books of Dodd, Mead, & Co. was drawn upon. An old original Henry Seventh was found and purchased from a New York collection. In the invaluable collection of rare old books in the private library of Marshall C. Lefferts, of New York, were found some volumes not elsewhere procurable, and these were kindly loaned to us. To Dr. John Dane, of 15 16 PREFACE. Boston, we are also indebted for the loan of rare volumes not in the libraries. The Boston and Harvard Libraries held a considerable number of old editions and afforded facilities for their use during several months of research. The Lenox Library of New York also opened its choice col- lection of original editions of Shakespeare, from some of which photographic reproductions of title pages, dedica- tions, etc., were taken. Upon another page will be found a list of the editions used and where they were obtained. In all, about 6,000 pages of these original editions have been gone over, the Italic letters transcribed "in groups of five," and each letter examined for the peculiarities which should determine the particular font of type from which it was printed, and its resulting significance in the Cipher plan. We have so far been unable to gain access to the neces- saiy editions between 1579 and 1590 to determine the exact date, and the book which holds the first dangerous experi- ment of the inventor of this Cipher. Sufficient, however, has been translated to outline the object, scope and main features of the Bi-literal, as well as the plan of the "Word Cipher, confirming both, as has been elsewhere stated and establishing beyond question the authorship in Bacon of the works in Avhich they are found. The Cipher Story is unique in literature, first from the peculiar method of hiding, and next, in what it tells. It is not ours to reason why Francis Bacon should have taken this method to communicate with the "far off ages." That the reasons were sufficient to him, to induce great pains in their transmission, is evident. It is sufficient for us to have found the secret story, and record what we find, as we find it. The mystery surrounding much of the Elizabethan PREFACE. 17 period, and its conflicting records, suggest many things vet to be discovered. The prosecution of the investigations which shall unearth these must be left to those nearer the scenes of action, having facilities beyond our present oppor- tunities. The discovery of the Cipher will doubtless put many on the search, and finding so much will aid in delving deeper, throwing side lights upon many things that have been in- comprehensible, leading to further disclosures of value to the historian and lovers of truth. It is to be hoped that further search may be made for original papers, clues followed that may lead to their location, that no stone be left unturned which may seem to cover the hiding place of manuscript or written line that will clear up any portion of that which remains undiscovered. HOWARD PUBLISHING COMPANY. Detroit, June, 1900. ARGUMENT. All agree that two names stand at the head of the literary achievements of the Elizabethan era William Shake- speare, as a dramatic writer, and Francis Bacon, as the greatest of writers in all branches, scientific, philosophic, legal and literary, taking all knowledge for his province the most learned man of his day. Concerning the first, all writers agree that nothing is known of him personally which points to eminence. Quot- ing from George Brandes, the Danish writer, whose book is among the strongest of the late writings upon the Plays, and whose keen analysis of them is an education and a de- light, we read : ""When we pass from the notabilities of the nineteenth century to Shakespeare, all our ordinary critical methods leave us in the lurch. We have, as a rule, no lack of trustworthy information as to the productive spirits of our own day and of the past two centuries. We know the lives of authors and poets from their own accounts of themselves or those of their contemporaries; in many cases we have their letters; and we not only possess works attributed to them but works which they themselves gave to the press. "It is otherwise with Shakespeare and his fellow drama- tists of Elizabethan England. He died in 1616, and the first biography of him, a few pages in length, dates 1709. We possess no letters of Shakespeare and only one (a busi- ness letter) addressed to him. Of the manuscript of his is ARGUMENT. 19 works, not a single line is extant. Our sole specimens of his hand writing consist of five signatures, three appended to his will, two to contracts, and one other of very doubtful authenticity. "We do not know how far several of the works attributed to Shakespeare are really his. In the case of some of the Plays, the question of authorship presents great and mani- fold difficulties. In his youth Shakespeare had to adapt or retouch the plays of others; in later life he sometimes collaborated with younger men. * * * He seems never to have sanctioned any publication, or to have read a single proof sheet. "It has become the fashion to say, not without some show of justice, that we know next to nothing of Shake- speare's life. We do not know for certain, either, when he left Stratford or when he returned to Stratford from London. We do not know for certain that he ever went abroad, ever visited Italy. We can form but tentative conjectures as to the order in which his works were pro- duced, and can only with the greatest difficulty determine their approximate dates. We do not know what made him so careless of his fame as he seems to have been. We only know that he himself did not publish his dramatic works, and that he does not even mention them in his will." There follow nearly 800 pages of critical analysis of the plays, but so far as connecting Shakespeare's personal- ity in any way with the authorship of them is concerned, it is admittedly pure romance and every statement a con- jecture. Concerning Francis Bacon, his life, from the age of twelve years, when in the halls of learning, he took issue with his preceptors upon the gravest questions, is an open 20 ARGUMENT. book, in which is recorded the formative progress of a great mind, advancing in knowledge and in honors to the position of Lord High Chancellor of England, and in the world of letters to a world-wide fame as the greatest genius of that age. For nearly fifty years now there has been growing doubt as to the -authorship of the plays appearing under the name of William Shakespeare, and a growing belief that the name was the nom-de-plume of another person or persons, and only by its similarity, coupled with the fact of his being an actor, did it attach to the man Shaks-per from Stratford. That Bacon was the real author was apparently first sug- gested by the similarity of philosophy and sentiment of parallelisms in thought and expression, and with the deeper study of these, the Bacon-Shakespeare question was upon us. Mr. Fiske tells of "Forty Years of the Bacon-Shakespeare Folly," and although the books that have been written upon the subject would form a considerable library of them- selves, he "forgot to classify them," but as an afterthought considered they should have been placed with those of "Cranks and their Crochets," which he consigned to the department of "Insane or Eccentric" literature. He brushes aside, in that delightfully sarcastic way of his, as unimportant, the deep researches the gathering together of data and facts that throw new light upon the Elizabethan period the evolution of which has resulted in placing in our hands the positive proofs that not only the plays, but some other literature attributed to other authors, came from the hand and brain of Francis Bacon. Bacon says that 'tis the mysterious that attracts. The discussion of authorship has given impulse to the study of that period. It is found to be full of mystery. ARGUMENT. 21 The records of its literature and history lack conciseness and certainty, are in many things irreconcilable, leading to much speculation and conjecture, stimulating the search for documents, manuscripts, data, anything authentic to correct manifest inconsistencies and furnish missing links in the narrative. The question of Ciphers in the Plays dates back to the early discussion of authorship. Much time and effort in searching for them have been expended without avail. Two principal Ciphers have now, however, been found and devel- oped, not only in the Plays, but in some other of the old books of that day which throw a flood of light upon the mysteries that have been so puzzling. The first to be discovered was the Word Cipher, by Dr. Owen; the second was Bacon's Bi-literal Cipher, by Mrs. E. "W. Gallup, who had been associated with Dr. Owen in the preparation of the later books published under his name. Both Ciphers have been worked out to sufficient length nearly 2,000 pages to disclose their great historical and literary value, to confirm them both, and to solve effectu- ally and satisfactorily many of the questions that have been in doubt. They furnish positive proofs of their own exist- ence, and tell a narrative as varied, as interesting, as roman- tic, as any on the printed page, holding much of truth that has never been told. The Bi-literal Cipher is not new. It is the invention of Bacon while in France, and is more or less familiar to every student of his works, for no "De Augmentis" is without its chapter on ciphers, and the illustration of this, as Bacon terms it, the highest type of cipher writing. And it is familiar to many in a practical way, who may never have known that it is the basis of the most important cipher codes t 22 ARGUMENT. in use at the present day. What is new, and startling, and what renders the work of Mrs. Gallup of inestimable value, is her discovery that this Cipher exists in the original writ- ings of its inventor, and records the secrets of his own life, with the reasons for their hiding, a fitting object and motive for its use. The revelations of the Ciphers are startling, and yet they are repeated in the different books with such circum- stantiality of detail such accord with recorded history, so far as the records show that we are forced against OUT wills to acknowledge their truth. First : Bacon tells us how and why he wrote these im- portant Ciphers into his works. The Bi-literal describes the other and contains full instructions for writing both, the topics and an epitome of what was to be written out, the keys and where the material was to be found from which to build the more important structure of the Word Cipher which would comprise History, Tragedy, Comedy and Ro- mance, in fact, a new literature as fascinating as strange, concerning the life and times of Bacon as they were, and differing materially from what they had been made to appear. Secondly: That he was the author, though unknown as such, of works masqued under the name of Spenser, Shakespeare, Marlowe, Greene, Peele and Robert Burton; that five short plays written by Bacon were printed as Ben Jonson's; that Jonson's own works contained the Cipher, in the Italic letters, by permission, which fact is certified to in a Cipher letter over Jonson's own name, and repeated in the Cipher narrative, found in the other books. Thirdly: The details of his parentage and secret per- sonal history. As these were being vigorously denied and * ARGUMENT. 23 suppressed by the Queen, the hidden story was a dangerous one for Bacon to record, and the fear of its discovery in the earlier years of its infolding was ever present with its author; but as time passed, and with it the personal peril, came the fear that these most important matters would not be brought to light and his life work in recording them would be lost. After at least thirty-five years of cipheir writing, as so far traced, he published in the Latin his great work, De Augmentis, and in the chapter on Ciphers gave a full explanation and the key to the system, and yet it has waited for three hundred years for an eye sufficiently acute to note its existence in the numerous books, and the indomit- able patience and perserverance to follow it, letter by letter, through nearly six thousand pages of original editions, as the long story has been unfolded. In almost every work are found repetitions of some of the chief statements, though in different form. The rea- son given for this was that the writer could not expect the decipherer would begin where the Cipher itself began, and also that, should any book be lost, the plan could still be followed from what the others should reveal. A marked feature of the deciphered work is his agony of spirit and remorse over the action he was compelled to take, at the Queen's commands, in the trial of Essex, his younger brother the second son of the Queen and Leicester. His efforts to excuse and justify himself before the world in a later age pathetic in the extreme is made to appear as one of the strong motives' for the use of the Cipher. The earliest edition of books so far accessible to us in which the Bi-literal Cipher has been found, is Spenser's Muiopotmos, 1590. It was at an earlier date than this that the dangerous experiment was launched, and it is a matter 24 ARGUMENT. of regret that so far we have been unable to gain access to earlier editions, for in some of these, between 1579 and 1590, the initial or starting point will be discovered. For a period of about thirty-five years, then, as we have said between 1590 and the death of Bacon this progres- sive narrative has beeii traced, and while it is not all the list of works to be deciphered, the repetitions establish the scope and time and plan of the work. Two distinct purposes are served by the two Ciphers. The Bi-literal was the foundation which was intended to lead to the discovery of the other, and is of prime import- ance in its directions concerning the construction of the Word Cipher, the keys, and the epitome of the topics which were to be written out by its aid. It seems, also, to have been the expression of the writer's thoughts of the moment, a sort of diary which caught and recorded the passing emo- tions, day by day, without regard to what had gone before or would follow, and as in many another diary, we find ex- pressed in different words the trend of the mind as affected by the varying moods sometimes sad and mournful again defiant and rebellious and again despondent, almost in despair, that his wrongs might fail of discovery, even in the times and land afar off to which he looked for greater honor and fame, as well as vindication. Chafing under the cloud upon his birth, the victim of a destiny beyond his control which ever placed him in a false position, defrauded of his birthright, which was of the highest, he committed to this Cipher the plaints of an out- raged soul. The decipherer alone shares the confidences of his inmost heart. To the decipherer he unbends to the rest of the world maintains the dignity which marked his outward life. To the decipherer, and behind the ARGUMENT. 25 scenes, throws off restraint and records the bitterness of the thought which the moment brings to the world exhibits the stately movement, the careful thought, the studied expression. It is a wonderful revelation of the undercur- rents of a hidden life. But it is less smooth much of it as a literary production than the other, except in those parts given to the historical portions which he sketched out as the frame work for amplification in the Word Cipher. The method of the Word Cipher, discovered by Dr. Owen now found to be so fully explained .by the great au- thor in the Bi-literal Cypher, is quite different, and dis- closes matter of rare value as literary productions and of the most intense interest, embodying that which was the hope of Bacon, would not only establish his true character and birthright, but would bring added fame to the writings that had been published, through those of nearly equal volume which were concealed within the lines, as first writ- ten, for the pages with which we are familiar are a recon- struction to hide the secret story. The Bi-literal is exact scientific inflexible. The translation of the Word Cipher, however, like translations from the Greek the Iliad or the Odysses, for example is, within certain limitations, more elastic. There might be variation in the phrasing of two people, but the substance would be in accord from the hands of experienced crypto- graphers. In the modern editions of the works the Bi- literal has been obliterated by the elimination of the Italic letters. The Word Cipher, however, can be followed in modern editions, not with quite the exactness of the origi- nals, but in substance, and with the smoothness gained by editing and eliminating some seeming incongruities. But 26 ARGUMENT. Bacon himself says, "Commonly, the most corrected copies are the least correct." To many it will seem strange, if not well nigh incredible, that a Cipher message could come down to us in this way, uncovering matters that had slept through three centuries, hidden within the splendid literature so carefully studied, dissected and analyzed for hidden meanings as have been the Plays and the works of Bacon. To some it comes like a blow; traditions shattered history turned awry yet there is no destruction : all is there that was there before and much more. It is the matter we have loved, not the man! The mind's the man! 'tis simply change and "what's in a name ?" We are asked "what matters it" whether this be so or not? Why delve into the mysteries of the past, and un- settle things '4 It is true, effort in this direction does not build magnificent bridges, nor does it plan or dig tunnels of gigantic proportions and tremendous utility. It does not develop a new use for Electricity, or the possibilities of Liquid Air! But when we contemplate the building of great temples of knowledge, where shall be gathered and exposed for study the best that past and present has to offer, is it not worth the cost to study truth for truth's sake? And when we come to decorate the memorial arch with the figures that best typify the greatest and best in the world's past of Arts, Sciences, Sculpture, Painting, representing the acme of human achievements in each of these, and shall seek to surmount by a face, a figure or a name which shall typify Literature as embracing all Arts, is it not worth our while to be very sure we name the man aright? It is laudable as well as duty to pursue all threads of light which may illumine what has been admittedly a grave ques- ARGUMENT. 27 tion, and be very sure the monument shall be truthful. Music, Sculpture, Art, may be inspiration, with a modicum of preliminary instruction, and we have the careers of those who justly typify these in records of acknowledged authen- ticity but can we believe that a finished Literature, with a vocabulary thrice that in previous use, can come from inspiration alone? Granting that the Shakespeare Plays stand at the head of all English literature, we can now speak with the bold- ness of certainty that Francis Bacon was the author, and hence Truth and Justice demand that no other face or form shall occupy the highest place in the modern Pan- theon that no other should stand first in the galaxy of great names, as the greatest genius of them all. M. NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. Justin Winsor, in his Bibliography of Shakespeare, says regarding the first Folio edition of 1623 : "It is not likely that, even at this late day, all the copies existing in England are known to such as may be cognizant of their value. One was discovered in 1857, in a carpen- ter's shop, among a lot of old books that had been bought for a few shillings; and similar surprises will doubtless again happen. Copies are known to exist in Germany, in Spain, and probably elsewhere on the Continent. "Steevens says that he discovered in a manuscript note in a copy belonging to White, a bookseller in Fleet Street, London, that the book was published at 1, a sum repre- senting, of course, several times the value at the present day; Grant White giving it at $25.00. "It was in 1864 that the bibliomaniac fervor over the first folio of Shakespeare made its most pronounced display at the Daniel's sale. A bidder representing Almon W. Griswold, of New York, carried the figures high above all previous reckonings; but the agent of Miss Burdett-Coutts secured it for that lady's collection at 716, the highest mark then reached, and it has not since been surpassed." Prices at which original copies of the first Folio, have since been sold have largely exceeded the above amount. The copy belonging to the late Augustin Daly brought $5,400 at the great sale in March, 1900. NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 29 At the time of the publication of Winsor's Bibliography, but nineteen copies of the Folio were known to be in the United States, but the number is now greatly increased. Under the head of "Copies in the United States, as far as Known/' commenting upon the copy in possession of the Boston Public Library, Mr. Winsor writes that it "was bought by Mr. Barton of Thos. Kodd, the London book- seller, in 1845, standing No. 8127 in his catalogue for that year; and 110 was paid for it." " 'No such copy, in point of completeness and size,' wrote Mr. Rodd, who reserved it for Mr. Barton from the first, 'had been sold by public auction for many years; and for a fine one, Mr. Pickering, the bookseller, gave four years since 150, and sold it immediately for a considerable advance.' Kodd received it in an old, but not original, binding, and was careful that, while it was in Lewis's hands, it should neither be cut, nor the ink-marks or other stains removed.' ' Mr. Winsor further states: "A* copy belonging to Mr. Lenox has seemingly the date 1622; but Joseph Lilly, the bookseller, in a note to "The Literary Gazette,' March 8, 1862, gives his view, that 'there is no copy with the date 1622, the figure "3" being imperfectly worked (or battered) in that particular copy in which it appears.' ' This copy cost in 1855, 163 16s. It is called the Baker copy. One of the assistant librarians at the Lenox Library dis- covered the secret of the apparent date, 1622, which has been verified by a representative of the Howard Publishing Co. The title page was "inlaid" in such a manner that an edge of the margin covered the lower part of the long "3," and a slight pen stroke made the upper part appear as a 30 NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. "2." Examining the leaf with a lens, the entire figure "3" is plainly seen, the lower part showing through the paper when held to the light. In fact, it is well known that the Folio appeared for the first time in 1623, and in the Cipher it is seen that it follows Vitsc & Mortis, published in the same year. The old vexed questions regarding pirated editions of the quartos, or attempts to determine which was first of those put out in the same year, find answer in the Bi-literal, directly or by plain inference. If connected in such a way that the Cipher Story would otherwise be incomplete, prior- ity is thus determined. Often one work mentions other editions. In deciphering Ben. Jonson's Folio, it was found that sixty plays were written as early as 1616. Of these, fifty-six had been traced. Search for the missing four led to an examination of those which some critics have rejected as spurious or under suspicion. Of these it was found that Pericles, Sir John Old-castle, London Prodigal, and York- shire Tragedy containe'd the Cipher, thus completing the list of sixty referred to, and establishing the genuineness of these four. The Yorkshire Tragedy has the peculiar title : ALL'S ONE or ONE OP THE FOUR PLAIES IN ONE, CALLED A YORKSHIRE TRAGEDIE, as it was plaid by THE KING'S MAIESTIES PLAYERS. NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 31 These are by no means the only plays weighed in the balance. In Justin Winsor's "Note on the Authorship of the Three Parts of Henry Sixth" we read : "Hudson says that 'Malone figured out that the two plays [second and third parts], in their present state, contain 6,043 lines, and that of these 1,899, or nearly one-third were original in the Folio; 2,373, something more than a third, were altered from the quarto; and 1,771, which is something less than a third, were the same in both. Nearly all the matter of the quartos is retained in the Folio; the rejections being few and small.' "That one or both were written in part by Shakespeare is the opinion of Drake, who holds that Shakespeare im- proved the works of others ; of Hartley Coleridge, who says, 'The True Tragedie of Richard Duke of Yorke was cer- tainly the original which Shakespeare partially retouched without much improving the rudeness of the outline'; of Hunter, who says, 'They have evidently much of Shake- speare's hand, but there are in them portions of an inferior hand'; and of Part II., Hunter again says, 'Shakespeare was employed in altering and amending the work of a pre- ceding and inferior dramatist, but there is much from his hand, and some parts in this and in the third play are even in his best manner' ; of Halliwell, who thinks 'Part III. is an older drama, with such interpolations from Shakespeare as could be collected from notes at the theatre'; of the Cambridge editors, who think 'Shakespeare had a consider- able share in them' ; of Grant White, who holds that 'they contain the work of Greene, Marlowe and Shakespeare, and of such material parts of them as were transferred to the 32 NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. Second and Third Parts of Henry Sixth were Shakespeare's own.' "Staunton agrees with Halliwell that the old plays showed Shakespeare's additions to an undiscovered original. Rives, in his Essay, agrees with Grant White, that Shake- speare wrote the parts of Clifford and Warwick, and Greene those of Richard and Edward. "They are held to be of other authorship than Shake- speare's by Theobald, Warburton, Drake, Hallam, Har- ness, etc. "That they are attributable to Robert Greene is held by Gervinus to be a plausible conjecture. "They are given to Marlowe in the Chalmer's Catalogue. Malone ascribes Part III. to Marlowe; and Hartley Cole- ridge says of the same part, that 'it is ascribed to Marlowe with much probability.' Dyce strongly suspects both parts to have been wholly from the pen of Marlowe. "They are ascribed to Greene and Marlowe by many." In George Brandes scholarly work of recent date we read : "Though there are doubtless in the older plays portions unworthy of Shakespeare, and more like the handiwork of Greene, while others strongly suggest Marlowe, both in matter, style and versification, there are also passages in them which cannot be by anyone else than Shakespeare. And while most of the alterations and additions which are found in the second and third parts of Henry VI. bear the mark of unmistakable superiority, and are Shakespearian in spirit no less than in style and versification, there are at the same time others which are decidedly un-Shakespearian and can almost certainly be attributed to Marlowe. He must, then, have collaborated with Shakespeare in the NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 33 adaptation, unless we suppose that his original text was care- lessly printed in the earlier quartos, and that it here reap- pears, in the Shakespearian Henry VI., corrected and com- pleted in accordance with his manuscript. "Other additions also seem only to have restored the older form of the plays those, to wit, which really add nothing new, but only elaborate, sometimes more copiously than is necessary or tasteful, a thought already clearly indi- cated. But there is another class of additions and altera- tions which surprises us by being unmistakably in Mar- lowe's style. If these additions are really by Shakespeare, he must have been under the influence of Marlowe to a quite extraordinary degree. Swinburne has pointed out how entirely the verses which open the fourth act of the Second Part are Marlowesque in rhythm, imagination and choice of words; but characteristic as are these lines they are by no means the only additions which seem to point to Marlowe." Regarding the variations "additions and alterations" and oftentimes omissions Bacon says in the Bi-literal Cipher: "I alwaies alter even when there bee more to adde, and I may take many of the parts put out in Quarto form to reset th' same, having made a planne to increase one, by making a likeness in th' theame easily suit th' thoughts and ene sundry verses of others. It may be a long time ere I can put into use most choice lines so cul'd from early plays" * Concerning the diversity of style, he also says in the Cipher : "I varied my stile to suit different men, since no two shew th' same taste and like imagination."** And *Page 156. **Page 200. 34 NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. again : "When I have assum'd men's names, th' next step is to create for each a stile naturall to the man that yet should let my owne bee scene, as a thrid of warpe in my entire fabricke,"*** while in his open work we find, "Style is as the subject-matter." The Bi-literal Cipher has been extracted from more than one edition of some of the plays. On, comparison, it appears that while some of the different editions vary but slightly in the text, yet in the words that are Italicised the changes are very great, and in that manner each is made to tell a different hidden story. Two quarto editions of Pericles (1609 and 1619), Merchant of Venice (both dated 1600), Richard II. (1598 and 1615), and Midsummer Night's Dream (1600), have been deciphered, besides the three last named plays as they are printed in the Folio, where the Italicised words are still different from those in either of the quartos. The Italics used in Eichard II (1615), quarto, are nearly double the number used in the edition of 1598, and in the Folio are still greater variations in the particular words Italicised and in the number of them, as well as in the fonts of type from which the letters were chosen. Thus is shoAvn that the variations, as well as other seeming inconsistencies in typography, style, and matter, are for the purposes of the Cipher, and, we repeat, they prove conclusively that Bacon was the author. KATE E. WELLS. ***Page 54. STENOGRAPHY, OE "SHOKT-HAKD" WKITING IN THE TIME OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. The opinion has not infrequently found expression that it was beyond the ability of Francis Bacon, great writer as he was, to have written all the matter that, through the Cipher, is now attributed to him, and to correct the impres- sion which is prevalent that "Short-hand" methods were not in use at that time, we give place to the following article from the pen of Mrs. C. M. Pott, in Baconiana, London, January, 1900. It appears that an argument against the possibility of Francis St. Alban being the author of all that has been claimed for him, is based upon at least one great fallacy, namely, tht Francis St. Alban could not have transmitted his thoughts and conceptions (as some of us maintain that he did) verbally, so that his utterances could be taken down in "short-hand" by some of his secretaries. "It is," says one correspondent, "the gen- eral belief that there were no 'short-hand' methods in those days, and that transcribing as well as printing was a slow and laborious process, and we cannot make people believe to the contrary." The present lines are written not with the intention of giving a history of stenography, but in order once and for all to do away with this mistaken idea amongst our own circle of readers, however much the erroneous belief may remain with "the general." -"36 STENOGRAPHY, OR SHORT-HAND WRITING. The first English book on Stenography seems to have been that published by T. Bright, in 1588. Here we may pause to note three particulars : 1. T. Bright was Dr. Timothy Bright, under whose name the "Anatomy of Melancholy" was first published in 1587. This edition is entered in the British Museum Catalogue as the work of T. Bright. The subsequent editions take 110 notice of Bright, but are published in the name of Burton. "What's in a name?" In the introduction to the "Biliteral Cipher of Francis Bacon" the Editor, calling attention to these facts, adds that "The Cipher mentions both Bright and Burton as names under which 'Bacon' wrote the book, and also that the different editions contain each a different cipher story." 2. "T. Bright" dedicated his book on short-hand writing to Queen Elizabeth, with the title "Charac- terie, or the Art of Short, Swift and Secret Writing." 3. At the time of the publication of this book, Erancis was 27 years of age, and passing through a period of the greatest leisure which he ever enjoyed. From 1586 to 1590 there is hardly a trace of his do- ings, but the press was teeming with and issuing works of all kinds the English Renaissance had begun. To the Treatise on Short Writing of 1588, there followed "The Writing School-master," by "Peter Bale." Here we are told that "Brachygraphy, or the art of writing as fast as a man speaketh treatably, may in appearance seem difficult, but it is in effect very- easy, containing a many commodities under a few principles, the shortness whereof is obtained by mem- ory, the swiftness by practice, the sweetness by indus- try." A most Baconian utterance suggestive of its true source. The date of this book is 1590. The next attempt towards improvement in the art seems to have been printed in 1 602 by "John Willis." It was entitled "The Art of Stenographic or Short Writing by Spelling Characterie," and after this had 3Z passed through numerous editions, a fresh treatise was published by Edmund Willis, in 1618, and two more in 1630, b t y Witt and Dix. These few facts must surely be sufficient to prove that short-hand writing began and flourished in the reign of Elizabeth, and was vigorously used and improved upon during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. That Francis not only first introduced the art, but that he made good use of it the present writer does not for an instant doubt. The scanty records published of his mysterious private life seem in many places to> hint, although they do not plainly affirm that this was the case. Hear the saying of Dr. Rawley, when describing hi? master's habits of perpetual industry and the delight of his conversation. "His meals were refections of the ear as well as of the stomach, like the Noctes Atticse, or Convi- viae Deipno-sophistarum, wherein a man might be re- freshed in his mind and understanding no less than in his body. And I have known some, of no mean parts, that, have professed to make use of their note- books when they have risen from his table" (so they went prepared with note-booka). Peter Boehner, private secretary and medical at- tendant to Erancis "Bacon," describes how in the morning he would call him or some other of his secre- taries to his bedside, and how they wrote down from his lips the thoughts and ideas which he had conceived in the night. Had this process been so "slow and laborious" as the general belief is supposed to warrant, our indefatigable and nimble-minded author would have had to pass most of his days in bed. On the con- trary, we think it far more probable that the amanu- ensis could write as fast as a man could speak "treat- ably," or in other words slowly and with deliberation, as (in the Short ]S"otes for Civil Conversation) he en- 38 STENOGRAPHY, OR SHORT-HAND WRITING. joins upon others who would speak pleasantly and to be understood: "In all kinds of speech it is convenient to speak leisurely, and rather drawingly than hastily" giving as one reason for this, that "a slow speech confirmeth the memory." Doubtless it is a great help to the writer from dictation. Now if Francis did from the age of, say 25, dictate to his short -hand writers the thoughts which followed each other through his wonderful brain, his reflections on the philosophies which he was studying, his com- ments upon books, which he read, notes and sketches of proposed works, or revised matter ready for the press if he seldom put pen to paper, but in elbow chair, with head resting on his hand (and "thus he sat") dictated in the abundance of his full heart and mind to his expert short-hand writers, they in due course transcribing and writing fair the sheets which he had but to read, and if needful to correct and polish what a mass of matter could he thus have produced and given to the world under any name but his own ! "Would that our own thoughts and utterances were worthy of a like method of preservation. We could then exclaim with Armado in Love Labour's Lost: "Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio." FKANCIS BACON. The life of Francis Bacon presents many and sharp con- trasts. From his earliest childhood, which was full of the promise of a bright intelligence, until the end of his life, he was in touch with all that was deemed great and most to be desired. It was full of high hopes deferred, with great and well-warranted expectations alternating with disap- pointments. The apparent fulfillments, like dead sea fruit, turned to ashes on his lips. After a life of weary but un- successful place seeking, success and splendor were speedily followed by deepest humiliation. Seeming inconsisten- cies in his conduct and his character have been the fruitful theme of the highest eulogy and of strongest condemnation; those who knew him best, loved, admired and revered him, and his biographers have been able to give, or suggest, rea- sons, if not excuse for certain episodes in his life, for which others have had but unsparing censure. As the value of his literature to-day does not depend upon his conduct three hundred years ago, we can leave this question where it stands, rather than dull with censure our appreciation of his genius. This man who, as many authorities assert, was endowed with the greatest intellect of the human race, was born in London in 1561. 39 40 FRANCIS BACON. The recent Cipher discoveries go to show that he was the son of Elizabeth, afterward Queen of England, who, while imprisoned in the Tower of London, before her coronation, was secretly married to the Earl of Leicester, and this son should by right have borne the title, Prince of Wales. The dates of the imprisonment of Leicester and Elizabeth in the Tower correspond sufficiently with the assertion. A matter so vitally affecting the destinies of England and Elizabeth's succession to the crown could not then be divulged and the child was given to Anne and Nicholas Bacon and reared as their own, under the name by which he has since been known. His foster father was Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England. His foster mother was eminent for piety, virtue and learning, and was highly skilled in the Greek and Latin tongues. At twelve years of age, when most children are but be- ginning to think, he entered Trinity College, Cambridge, where, we are told, the students were forbidden to use even in conversation, any other language than Latin, Greek or Hebrew. While at this College, from his thirteenth to his fifteenth year, this marvelous boy, studying the philosophy of Plato and Aristotle in the original tongue, became dis- satisfied with the futility of much that was taught. He left College before he was sixteen, with his mind formed, and habits of research fixed, thenceforth to mature in intellec- tual independence and to become the supreme scholar of the age. When sixteen years of age he discovered his parentage and was at once sent to France with the English Ambassa- dor, where he remained something over two years, until recalled by the death of Sir Nicholas Bacon, who, contrary FRANCIS BACON. 41 to expectation, left no provision for Francis in his will, which becomes significant in the light of the recent dis- coveries. It has always been thought strange by his biographers that his supposed father, Nicholas Bacon, made no provision for his support. Reasons of State, and reasons of vast import to the Queen of England, united with the unwillingness of the Queen to acknowledge early indiscre- tions, prevented the recognition of the rights of Francis, as heir apparent. He was made to understand that he must shift for himself, and taking up the study of law as the most promising resource, the next five years required by the course, he spent largely at Gray's Inn. How much time was devoted to law, and how much to literature and philo- sophical studies is unknown. At twenty-five, amid exciting times, he was elected to Parliament and was a member of the House of Commons for several sessions. His aspirations for preferment were held in check during Elizabeth's reign, but with the advent of King James he was more rapidly advanced until he be- came Lord High Chancellor of England. Three years later he was sentenced for judicial corrup- tion to a heavy fine and imprisonment, but the sentence was remitted, as if the injustice of it was too patent to be enforced. The five remaining years of his public life were spent in his literary labors, and the publication of his works, and his career closed at the age of a little less than 66 years in 1626. By his will, drawn just after his sentence, he be- queathed his name ' ; to the next ages and to foreign na- tions," &. bequest literally carried out, as those of the present day hav > become in the broadest sense his legatees. A recent writer says : "Whether as a politician or as. a justiciary, a philosopher or man of the world, there is in 42 FRANCIS BACON. English historv no nobler character than that of Francis Bacon, yet no one has been more misapprehended, more misrepresented, more maligned, than has he." "He was the most remarkable man of whom any age can boast." "He soared to such a height that his contemporaries could not fully estimate his genius, the justness of his views, and the importance of his labors." Lord Macaulay says : "Bacon's mind was the most exquisitely constructed intellect that has ever been bestowed upon any of the children of men." Pope, that "Lord Bacon was the greatest genius that Eng- land, or perhaps any other country, ever produced." De- Quincy calls him "the glory of the human intellect." Welch writes that "he belonged to the realm of imagina- tion, of eloquence, of jurisprudence, of ethics, of meta- physics. His writings have the gravity of prose, with the fervor and vividness of poetry." Addison, that "he pos- sessed at once all those extraordinary talents which were divided among the greatest authors of antiquity One does not know which to admire most in his writings, the strength of his reason, force of style, or brightness of imagination;" while Edward Burke wrote, "Who is there that hearing the name of Bacon, does not instantly recog- nize everything: of genius, the most profound; of litera- ture, the most extensive; of discovery, the most penetrat- ing; of observation of human life, the most distinguishing and most refined." His friend Tobie Mathews wrote of him, "A man so rare in knowledge, of so many several kinds, indued with the facility and felicity of expressing it all, in so elegant, significant, so abundant, and yet so choice and ravishing words, of metaphors and allusions, as perhaps the world has not seen since it was a world." And Macau- lay avers "no man ever had an imagination so thoroughly FRANCIS BACON. 43 subjugated. In truth, much of Bacon's life was spent in a visionary world, amidst things as strange as any that are described in the Arabian tales." The German author and critic Schlegel, whose "History of Literature" is almost a classic, says : "This mighty genius ranks as the father of modern physics, inasmuch as he brought back the spirit of investigation from the barren, verbal subtleties of the schools, to nature and experience; he made and completed many important discoveries him- self, and seems to have had an imperfect foresight of many others. "Stimulated by his capacious and stirring intellect, ex- perimental science extended her boundaries in every direc- tion; intellectual culture, nay, the social organization of modern Europe generally, assumed a new shape and com- plection." In Lord Hacaulay's essay these extracts occur: "With great minuteness of observation he had an ampli- tude of comprehension such as has never been vouchsafed to any other human being. Though Bacon did not arm his philosophy with weapons of logic, he adorned her profusely with all the richest decorations of rhetoric." "In his mag- nificent day dreams, there was nothing wild, nothing but what sober reason sanctioned. He knew that all the secrets, feigned of poets to have been written in the books of the enchanters, are worthless when compared with the mighty secrets which are really written in the book of nature; and which with but time and patience will be read there. He knew that all the wonders wrought by talis- mans in fable were trifles compared to the wonders which might reasonably be expected from the philosophy of fruit, and that if his words sank deep into the minds of men, they 44 FRANCIS BACON. would produce effects such as superstition never ascribed to the incantations of the magicians It was here that he loved to let his imagination loose. He loved to picture to himself the world as it would be when his philosophy should, in his own noble phrase, 'have enlarged the bounds of Europe.' ' Bacon's central thought was that religion, philosophy and literature should have a direct and practical bearing upon the well-being of mankind, and make life easier, more important, more interesting. That progress must be its purpose and end, for the good of the world, and this will be found to be the key-note throughout. Our estimate of the life and character of Bacon, as well as the political history of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, must needs be revised from the auto-biographical and his- torical material which the Cipher furnishes. It has been claimed that he was cold-blooded, and without affection or regard for the gentler sex. The contrary is the fact. Dur- ing his stay in France occured the absorbing romance of his life, in a passionate love for Queen Marguerite, the young and beautiful wife of Henry of Navarre. The life of a young Prince in the gay Court of France, accredited from the Court of England, a descendant of Henry the VII. though his title was unacknowledged can perhaps be bet- ter imagined than described. The conduct of Henry of Navarre had led to expectations of a divorce. Through- out the Cipher Story are found references which sufficiently show the powerful influence this absorbing passion exer- cised over the after life of Francis. A marriage was planned, to take place when divorce could be obtained from Navarre, and Sir Aymas Paulet attempted to negotiate the FRANCIS BACON. 45 Arrangement with Queen Elizabeth, but this not meeting with her approval, the marriage scheme failed and the divorce was not obtained. The Play of Romeo and Juliet is based on this love story, with Marguerite and Francis for its real characters. In the "New Atlantis," published after his death, the Cipher says : "Th' fame of th' gay French Court had come to me even then, and it was nattering to th' youthfull and most naturall love o' th' affaires taking us from my native land, inasmuch as th' secret commission had been entrusted to me, which required much true wisdome for safer, speedier conduct then 'twould have if left to th' common course o' businesse. Soe with much interessed, though sometimes apprehensive minde, I made rayselfe ready to accompanie Sir Amyias to that sunny land o' th' South I learn'd soe supremely to love, that afterwards I would have left England and every hope o' advancement to remain my whole life there. Nor yet could this be due to th' delights of th' country, by itselfe, for love o' sweete Marguerite, th' beautifull young sister o' th' king (married to gallant Henri th' King o' Xavarre) did make it Eden to my innocent heart, and even when I learn'd her perfidie, love did keepe her like th' angels in my thoughts half o' th' time as to th' other half she was devilish, and I myselfe was plung'd into hell. This lasted duri'g many yeares, and, not until four decades or eight lustres o' life were outliv'd, did I take any other to my sore heart. Then I married th' woman who hath put Marguerite from my memorie rather, I should say, hath banisht her portrait to th' walles of memorie, onely, where it doth hang in th' pure, undimmed beauty of those early dayes while her most lovelie presence doth possesse this entire mansion, of heart and braine. 46 FRANCIS BACON. Yet here I have a little digress'd, although the matter doth appertaine unto my story at a later period. When Sir Amyias Paulet became avised of my love, he propos'd that he should negotiate a treaty of marriage, and appro- priately urge on her pending case o' the divorce from the young Huguenot; but for reasons of very grave importance these buds of an early marriage never open'd into flower. But the future race will profit by th' failure in the field of love, for in those flitting daies afterward, having resolv'd to cover every marke of defeate with th' triumphs o' my minde, I did thoroughly banish my tende' love dreams to th' regions o' clouds as unreall, and let my works of vari- ous kinds absorb my minde. It is thus by my disappoint- ments that I do secure to many, fruition." M. CIPHERS. Bacon, from 'childhood, was intended for a public career. At that time all diplomatic, and much personal correspond- ence was committed to cipher. Among the substantial benefits, conferred upon mankind by Bacon, was the inven- tion, while in France, of what is known as the Baconian, or Bi-literal Cipher, which is adaptable to a multitude of means and uses. It may not be generally known that this Cipher is the basis of nearly every alphabetical code in use in teleg- raphy, and in the signal service of the world. It is in brief, an alphabet which requires only two unlike things for its operation. These may be two slightly differing fonts of type on a printed page, as illustrated in the example given at length in his De Augmentis, published not long before his death; or it may be a dot or slight disfigurement in a single font, or the alternating dot and dash, or short and long sound space of the Morse telegraphic code, or the alter- nating long and short flash of light as in the heliographic system; the "wig-wag" of a flag or signal light, or two col- ored lights alternately displayed; in short any means what- ever alternating any two unlike or unequal signs, sounds, motions or things. Under the rules of arithmetical pro- gression, almost innumerable alphabets can be constructed, by these means undecipherable without its particular key. It has no limitations upon its usefulness and has never been surpassed in security, ingenuity or simplicity. Bacon him- self called this the Omnia-per-omnia, the all in all cipher, and the name is completely descriptive. 47 48 CIPHERS. On a following page, from "Advancement of Learning," (1605), is Bacon's first reference to the Bi-literal Cipher. The next reference with the plan, and the key to its use, appears eighteen years later, in the Latin De Augmentis Scientiarum, in 1623. The system has been recognized, and used, since the day that De Augmentis was published, and has had its place in every translation and publication of that work since, but the ages have waited to learn that it was embedded in the original books themselves from the date of his earliest writings (1579 as now known) and infolded his secret per- sonal history. The two editions of De Augmentis form an illustration of the manner in which the different editions of the same work form each a separate study and tell a different Cipher Story. The first, or "London" edition, was issued, accord- ing to Spedding, in October, 1623. The next, or "Paris" edition, was issued in 1624. They differ in the Italic printing, and some errors in the second do not occur in the first. The 1624 edition has been deciphered; and the hid- den story appears in this volume (page 310). The 1623 edition has not, as yet, been deciphered. It seems to be a rare edition. There are two copies in the British Museum, one in the Bodleian library at Oxford, two in Cambridge, and one .in the choice collection of old books in the library of Sir Edwin Durning-Lawrence. In the course of the work, Marlowe's Edward Second had been deciphered before De Augmentis was taken up. At the end of Edward Second occurs this veiled statement, referring to De Augmentis (page 152 Bi-literal Cypher} ". . . . the story it contains (our twelft king's nativity since our sovereign, whose tragedy we relate in this way) CIPHERS. 49 shall now know the day . . " Had Francis succeeded to the throne, he would have been the twelfth king (omitting the queens) after Edward Second, hence the inference that De Augmentis would contain much of his personal history. The disappointment was great when instead of this, the hidden matter was found to be the Argument of the Odys- sey, something not anticipated, or wanted, and would never have been the result of choice or imagination of the deci- pherer. At the close of the deciphered work in Burton's Anatomy, in which the Argument of the Iliad was most unexpectedly found another great disappointment is this veiled statement: (page 309) "... while a Latin work De Augmentis will give aid upon the other (meaning the Odyssey). As in this work (meaning the Iliad) favorite parts are enlarged (in blank verse) yet as it lendeth ayde . . ." i. e., sets a pattern for the writing out of the Odyssey in the Word Cipher. This ex- plained the 1624 edition, and the inference is that the 1623 edition will disclose the personal history referred to on page 152. In the 1624 edition there are some errors in the illus- tration of the cipher methods and in the Cicero Epistle which do not occur in the 1623 edition. The Latin words midway on page 282, "qui pauci sunt" in the 1623 edition, are "qui parati sunt" in the 1624, page 309, an error referred to on page 10 of the Introduction of the Bi-literal Cypher as wrong termination, there being too many letters for the group, and one letter must be omitted. Other variations show errors in making up the forms on pages 307 and 308 in the 1624 edition, whether purposely for 50 CIPHERS. confusion or otherwise, it is impossible to tell. The line on page 307, "Exemplum Alphabeti Biformis " should be placed above the Bi-formed Alphabet on page 308, while "Exemplum Accomodationis" should be placed above the example of the adaptation jusi preceding. The repetition of twelve letters of the bi-f orrned alphabet could hardly be called a printer's error, as they are of another form, unlike those on the preceding page, and may be taken as an example of the statement that "any two forms will do." In these illustrations the letters seem to be drawn with a pen and are a mixture of script and pe- culiar forms, and unlike any in the regular fonts of type used in the printed matter. No part of the Cipher Story ia embodied in the script or pen letters on these pages. Whether or not the changing of the lines was done pur- posely, the grouping of the Italic letters from the regular fonts is consecutive as the printed lines stand,, the wrong make-up causing no break in the connected narration. There are many obscure statements throughout the Bi- literal Cypher, such as are noted in Edward Second and in Burton. To the decipherer they have a meaning, indi- cating what to look for and where to find that which is necessary for correct and completed work, as well as to guard against errors and incorrect translation. ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP. Of the Advancement of Learning. (London, 1605.) CYPHARS For CYPHARS; they are commonly in Letters or Alphabets, but may bee in Wordes. The kindes of CYPHARS, (befides the SIMPLE CYPHARS with Changes, and intermixtures of NVLLES, and NONSIGNIFICANT s) are many, according to the Nature or Rule of the infoulding : WHEELE- CYPHARS, KA Y-C YPHARS, DOVBLES, &c. But the vertues of them, whereby they are to be preferred, are three ; that they be not labor- ious to write and reade; that they bee impofsible to difcypher ; and in fome cafes, that they bee without fufpition. The higheft Degree whereof, is to write OMNIA PER OMNIA; which is vndoubtedly pofsible, with a proportion Quintuple at moft, of the writing infoulding, to the writing infoulded, and no other reftrainte whatfoeuer. This Arte of Cypberinge, hath for Relatiue, an Art of Difcypberinge ; by fuppofition vnprofitable ; but, as things are, of great vfe. For fuppofe that Cypbars were well mannaged, there bee Multitudes of them which exclude the Difcypberer. But in regarde of the rawnefle and vnskilfulneffe of the handes, through which they paffe, the greateft Matters, are many times carryed in the weakeft Cypbars. DE AUGMENTIS SCIENTIARUM (Translation, Gilbert Wats, 1640.) Wherefore let us come to C Y p H A R s. Their kinds are many, as Cyphars flmple; Cyphars intermixt with U^ulloes, or non - fignificant Characters ; Cyphars of double Letters under one Character; Wheele-Cyphars ; Kay- Cyphars; Cyphars of Words; Others. But the virtues of them whereby they are to be preferr'd are Three; That they be ready, and not laborious to write; That they be lure, and lie not open to Deciphering; And lajlly, if it be pofsible, that they be managed without fufpition. But that jealoufies may be taken away, we will annexe an other invention, which, in truth, we devifed in our youth, when we were at Paris : and is a thing that yet feemeth to us not worthy to be loft. It containeth the bighejl degree of Cypher, which is to fignifie omnia per omnia, yet f o as the writing infolding, may beare a quintuple proportion to the writing infolded; no other condition or reftriction whatfoever is required. It fhall be performed thus: Firft let all the Letters of the Alphabet, by tranfpo- fition, be refolved into two Letters onely ; for the tranfpofition of two Letters by five placings will be fufficient for 32. Differences, much more for 24. which is the number of the Alphabet. The example of fuch an Alphabet is on this wife. An Example of a ISi-literarie Alphabet. e/7 S C T) E F o/laaaa aaaab aaaba. aaabb. aabaa. aabab. G H I K -L Of aabba aabbb abaaa. abaab. ababa. ababb. ^ O 7> d 7? 5 abbaa. abbab. abbba. abbbb. baaaa. baaab. T V W X Y Z baaba. baabb. babaa. babab. babba. babbb. Neither is it a fmall matter thefe Cypher-Characters have, and may performe : For by this Art a way is opened, whereby a man may exprefle and fignifie the intentions of his minde, at any diftance of place, by objects which may be prefented to the eye, and accommodated to the eare : provided thofe objects be capable of a twofold difference onely ; as by Bells, by Trumpets, by Lights and Torches, by the report of -Muskets, and any inftruments of like nature. But to purfue our enterprife, when you addreffe your felfe to write, refolve your in- ward-infolded Letter into this c Bi-literarie Alphabet. Say the interiour Letter be Page. Example of Solution. F V G E aabab. baabb. aabba. aabaa. Together with this, you muft have ready at hand a c Bi-formed Alphabet, which may reprefent all the Letters of the Common Alphabet, as well Capitall Letters as the Smaller Characters in a double forme, as may fit every mans occafion. An Example of a "Si-formed Alphabet. ( a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b l^Aaa ^BBbl) CCcc^DDdd EEee FFff { a b a b abababab abababab a b a b \GGgg HHbh JIH KKkk LLll a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b abababab n OOoo TPpp QQqq T{Rrr SSss ( a bab a b a b a b a babababababab ab \ TTttVVvvuulVWwwXXxx YTyy ZZ^z Now to the interiour letter, which is Biliterate, you fhall fit a biformed exteriour letter, which fhall anfwer the other, letter for letter, and afterwards fet it downe. Let the exteriour example be, (Manere te volo, donee venero. An Example of Accommodation. F V G E a a b a b. baa b b. a a b b a. a a baa. {Manere te volo donee venero We have annext likewife a more ample example of the cypher of writing omnia per omnia: An interiour letter, which to expreffe, we have made choice of a Spartan letter fent once in a Scytale or round cypher'd ftaffe. Spartan Dispatch. is lost. {Mindarus is killed. Tbe soldiers want food. We can neither get hence nor stay longer here. An exteriour letter, taken out of the firft Epiftle of Cicero, wherein a Spartan Letter is involved. Cicero's first Epistle. Jn all duty or rather piety towards a a aaa \abab a\ a b a b a\a b a a a b a aa.b\abab you, I satisfy everybody except myself. a a b b a b 6 a a a b \ b a a b a\a b a b b\ab a a a a b b aa\ a O S I r | M \ I N I Myself y never satisfy. For so great are a a b b\a a a a a\b a a a a\b a a b b \ b a a a b \ a b a a a\ b a a D \ A \ X. \ U \ S \ I I S the services which you bave rendered me, a. b\a b a a b\ab a a a\a b a b a a b a b a\a a b a a\a a a b b\ b \K\I\L L \ E \ D \ that , seeing you did not rest in your en- a a b a \ a a b b b\a aba a\b a a a b\a b b a b\a b a b a\ a a T I H \ E \S\O\L\ deavours on my bebalf till the thing was abbabaaa\aa b a a\b a a a a \ b aa a b\b a b a a a a a a a\ D I \ R \R\S\W A \ done, J feel as if life had lost all its sweet- abba a N b a ab a a b a b\a b b a b \ abb a b\a a abb \ b a baa D W ness, because J cannot do as much in this a a b a a\a a a b a a a a a a I a b b a a if a b b a a\a a b a a\a b cause of yours. The occasions are these: aaa\baaba\aabb b\ a a b a a b a a a a\a abb a a a b a I \ T \ H \ E X \ G E t/lmmonius, the king' s ambassador, open- a \ b a a b a\a a b b b a a b a a \ a b b a a\a a a b a \ a a b a \ T I H E \ N \ C \ E ly besieges us with money. The business a\a b b a a\a b b a b\b a aa a\ b a a a b \ baa b a aa a a a b \N\O\R\S\ T A is carried on through the same creditors a b b a\a b a b a a b b a b a b b a aaa b b a\ a a b a a\b a a a a Y I L O N O \ E \ R who were employed in it when you were a a b b b a a b a a\b a a a a a a b a a H E \ R here Ere. ( N o T K ) This Translation from Spedding, Ellis & Heath Ed. aaa aaa a a a a (REPRODUCTION.) Epistle. Jn all duty or rather piety towards you, I satisfy everybody except myself. {Myself J never satisfy. For so great are the services which you have rendered me, that, seeing you did not rest in your endeavours on my behalf till the thing was done, J feel as if life had lost all its sweetness, because J cannot do as much in this cause of yours. The occasions are these: t/lmmonius, the kings ambassador, openly besieges us with money. The business is carried on through the same creditors who were employed in it when you were here &c. Cipher infolded. Ml is lost. tMindams is killed.. The soldiers want food. We can neither get hence nor stay longer here. The knowledge of Cyphering, hath drawne on with it a knowledge relative unto it, which is the knowledge of Difcyphering, or of Difcreting Cyphers, though a man were utterly ignorant of the Alphabet of the Cypher, and the Capitulations of fecrecy paft between the Parties. Certainly it is an Art which requires great paines and a good witt and is [as the other was] confecrate to the Counfels of Princes: yet notwith- ftanding by diligent previfion it may be made un- profitable, though, as things are, it be of great ufe. For if good and faithfull Cyphers were invented & practifed, many of them would delude and foreftall all the Cunning of the Decipherer, which yet are very apt and eafie to be read or written: but the rawneffe and unskilfulneffe of Secretaries, and Clarks in the Courts of Princes, is fuch, that many times the greateft matters are committed to futile and weake Cyphers. FRANCISCI BARONI S DE VERVLAMIO, VICE-CO MITIS SANCTI ALBANJ. DE DIGNIT4TE ET SClENTlARfM. L I B R I IX. D R EC E M SIT M lux ta Exemplar Londini ImprelTum P A R I S I I S, TRi METTAYER > M. DC. XXIV. 306 tumtnodd Literas fojuantur ,/ per Tranfpofitionem .carum. Nam Tranfpofitio duarum Literarum 3 per Locprquinquc, Differentiis.triginca duabus, multd nragis viginti quatuor ( qui eft Numerus Alfi*- fcriapud nos ) luffitiet. Huius Alfidtti Excmpluiu talc eft. Neque Ieueqtii3darn obiter hoc jnodo perfe&um cfl^Etenim ex hoc ipfopatet Modus , quo ad oiftnem Loci Diftantiam,per Obic<5ta>quaE vel Vifu^vel Audi- tui fubijci poflintjSenfa Animi proferre, &c fignificarc liceat : fi modo Obicda illa^uplicis tantum DifFeren- ti^capaciafunt, velutiperCampanas , per Buccinas > per Fiammeosjpei 1 SonitusTormentorum,& alia que^ cunque. VerumvtlncoBptumperfequamur^cum ad Scribendum accingoris > Epiftolam interiorem in^- ' (blues. Sit epiftolaitueriori 507 Exemplunl Solutipw* G- 2T- DP miflam olirnin Scytalc, Pcrdite < R^fs. <&fCmdanis cecidit yunt> jqtit ncno$ extricaTe, neque hie dm fins p. a. p. a* P*.&< &p*>ci, t ior^ fumpta ex EpiftolaPr/W Ci in qua Efijlokt Sptrttna inuolui tur. 303 o- mni offido, aepotiufme ^ - ** caiterii * ^ ttido iuffmm tra& we * A / >A inmaui com^oM Kc* Qn iij DIC1TVR. NOVVM ORGAN VM, S I V E ' INDICIA VERA T)E DEEST TAT(S in Apho- rifmos. PRAE.FA- FRANCISCI BARONIS VICE-COMIT1S S AN CT I A LEAN I, Hiftoria Vita & S I V E> TITVLVS SECVNDVS in Hiftoria Natural! & Experimental! ad concfendam Philofophiam : Quseft PARS TERTIA. L O N D I M I, In Officinal o, H A v i L A N.D, impenfis MATTHAEI LOWNES. 1625. The firft pare Of the true & hono- rable hifbry,of the Life of Sir lohn Old'Caftle, the good Lord Cobham. As it bath bene lately aftedbytbe honorable the Earle of^otingham Lord High zAdmir all of England, his Servants. Written by William Shakdpeare. Lonjonprintettfor T. *P< 1600. Prodigall. As ic was plaide by the Kings Male- flies (eruancs. By WittimShakefpeare, LONDON aretobc fold neeref at the figncof the pydeBu. YORKSHIRE TRAGEDIE. o B>> as Lament Me j V and Irue. Written by W. SHAKESPEARE Printed for T. T. 1619* FRANCIS BACON'S BI-LITERAL CIPHER THE DECIPHERED SECRET STORY From Original Editions in British Museum 7590. PUBLISHEKS' NOTE. THIRD EDITION. The publication of the second edition of the Bi-Uteral Cypher of Francis Bacon, which embraced the period of his Cipher writing between 1590 and the end of his career, emphasized the importance of finding the earlier writings preceding 1590. The old books necessary to the re- search could not be procured in America, and during the summer of 1900 Mrs. Gallup and her assistant, Miss Kate E. Wells, visited England to carry on the work in that treasure house of early literature, the British Museum. The investigations yielded rich returns, for in Shepheard's Calender of 1579 was found the commencement of what proved to be an important part of Bacon's life work. Following Shepheard's Calender, the works between 1579 and 1590, so fax deciphered, are: Araygnement of Paris, 1584; Mirrour of Modestie, 1584. Planetomachia, 1585. Treatise of Melancholy, 1586. Two editions of this were issued the same year, with differing Italics. The first ends with an incomplete cipher word which is completed in the second for the continued narration, thus making evident which was first published, unless they were published at the same time. Euphues, 1587; Morando, 1587. These two also join together, with an incomplete word at the end of the first finding its completion in the commencement of the Cipher in the second. Perimedes the Blacke-smith, 1588; Pandosto, 1588. These two also join together. Spanish Masquerade, 1589. Two editions of this work bear date the same year, but have different Italicising. In one edition the Cipher Story is complete, closing with the signature: "Fr., Prince." In the other the story is not complete, the book ending with an incomplete cipher word, the remainder of which will be found in some work of a near date which has not yet been indicated. Several months were spent in following, through these old books, the thread of the concealed story until it joined the work which had already been published. Overstrained eye-sight, from the close study of the different forms of Italic letters, and consequent exhaustion on the part of Mrs. Gallup, compelled a cessation of the work before all that would have been desirable to know concerning that early period was deciphered ; and while these are not all the works in which Cipher will be found, between the years 1579 and 1590, they are sufficient unmistakably to connect the earlier writings with those of later date which had already been deciphered as published in the Bi-literal Cypher so that we now "know the Cipher writings were being continuously infolded in Bacon's works, for a period of about forty-six years, from the first to the last of his lit- erary productions, including some matter he had prepared, which was published by Eawley subsequent to 1626. These few pages of deciphered matter, now added to that published in the Second Edition, have a unique distinction in the costliness of their production, but they are of ines- timable value, historically, as well as from a literary point of view, in demonstrating with certainty the scope and completeness of the Cipher plan which has so long hidden the secrets of a most eventful period. 77 sues Id. 2678. FEANCIS BACON'S BI-LITEEAL CYPHEE. SHEPHEAED'S CALENDER 1579. DEDICATION BY "E. K." 1579. ATTRIBUTED TO ED. SPENSER, 1611. E. K. wil bee found to be nothing lesse then th' letters signifying th' future sov'raigne, or England's King. Th' present Queene, purely selfish in all that doth in a sorte make for proper, tho' tardie recognition of that true prerogative of roiale bloud, doth most boldly and co'sta'tly oppose with h'r argume'ts th' puny effort in our cause which hath most disprov'd abilitie to uphold our true and rightful (but at this present time, very little scene or onely partlie ghest) clayme to roiall pow'r. In event o' death of her Ma. who bore in honourable wedlocke Eobert, now known as sonne to Walter Devereux, as wel as him who now speaketh to th' yet unknowne aidant discypherer that wil open the dores of the sepulcher to break in sunder the bonds and cerementes of a marvaillous historie, we the eldest borne, should, by the Divine right of a lawe of God made binding on man, inherit scepter and thron'. Lest most vilde historie have no penne so bolde as to write out some daungerous matter' that have of late beene layd bare to us, we have made" search for anie such secret mode of transmission as might conceale this whollie, yet in time, or it may chance ere long, chose the readers. Fayling in this, as all our existing meanes have alwaie [a] like sorte of keie held by each interpreter, wee devis'd two Cyphars now us'd for th' first time, for this saide secret historie, as cleere, safe, and undecipherable, whilst containing th* 79 80 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. keyes in each which open the most important, as anie device that witholdeth th' same. Till a discypherer finde a prepar'd, or readily discovered, alphabet, it semeth to us a thing almost impossible, save by Divine gift and heavenly instinct, that he should bee able to read what is thus reveal'd. It may, percha'ce, remaine in hiding imtill a future people furnish wittes keener then these of our owne times to open this heavilie barred entrance-way and enter the house of treasure. Yet are we in hourly terror least th' Queene, our enemie at present, altho' likewise our mother, be cognisant of our invention. It is for good cause, there- fore, that our worst feares cling to us so consta'tly that our intention is alter'd, and the cheefe Cyphar be not heerein set forth in such manner as was meant. FE. B. THE AEAYGNEMENT OF PARIS. 1584. GEORGE PEELE. By usi'g our Word Cyphar heere, our labours are great-lie increast. Wittes must be keen in a like search waiting also, at other seasons, as a warie mind must oft to get th' game, yet making noe noyse in his rejoyci'g over th' great discoverie. Wee write in this constant dread least our secret history may be found and sette out ere we be safe ev'n fro' th' butcher's deadlie axe, and make manie a shift sodainely for saftie. Be not then caste downe if there be much that is promist you for which you shal long hunt vainlie, since we have so oft bene seyzed with violent feare of that which might arise thence. The', manifold times, our tho'ght sodainely changeth answer therto. But it wil in due time bee related wholly. Safety should arise, no IN THE ARAYGNEMENT OF PARIS. 81 lesse then knowledge, from time's passage. Our mother ?an hardly lie immortall. It is also true that increast writings greatlie lessen our chaunces of losse ; for when portions are widelie scattered, as herein, most shal see but Latine and Greeke in diverbs of rare worth, nor see our free use of great Virgill's vers ? , translated in the schools, and the more wondrous Homer,' his poemes. Their eies rest on our Cyphar, yet to divulge th' secret is not in th' power of any that live at present ; for it is yet in meere infancy and none recognise th' forme and features that it is at length, wee doubt not, to donne, as it commeth to height of developed body. In sorrowe we set wordes herein : we know not their fate nor ours in a future near or f arr, for we are in truth th' luckles Prince of Wales, whome, alas, wit no way o' safe escape hath taughte, if it bee not in hiding wel our mar- vaillous storie, in order to communicate it to some distant friends, whose loialtie to princes of a rank such as ours may serve, at God's morn of aidance, as e'eourageme't. By uniting many pow y 'res such lofty endevou' for perfect- ing th' knowledge that is in the world, joined also with a strife for th' elevation, in all kingdoms under heaven, of this whole people th' Divine wil or planne doth perchance have full swaie: for when mankinde shall bee given wise- dome in so great fullnes, idle courtiers may find no true use of subtile arts. We ourself hate, with princely hatred, artes now exercised to keepe th' vanitie of our regall parent glowing like fire, for God hath laid on that head a richer crowne then this diademe upo' her brow, yet wil she not displaie it before all eies. It is th' rich crowne of mothe'- hoode. Our true title is PR. OF WALES. 82 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON THE MIEEOUK OF MODESTIE. 1584. ROBERT GREENE. For our latest booke, it will, at first, seeme probable to our disciph'rer, one part doth lacke here a part that had created, as it were, some secret world into which the unseing can by noe meanes e'ter. Our discoverer, whose sight lookt through all th' disguises, hath bin fro' th' first familiar with a most secret, as it is most dangerous, con- fession that is so framed it hinteth th' strange things it would relate, hath also seene in these letters two kinds necessarie to the Cypher, and will teach this discipherer our designe, wee having invented two excellent waies of co'cealing in our workes a secret so dangerous it would at once cost life, fame, fortu'e all that wee hold deare. We are firstborne to th' soe-called virgin that gov- erneth our realme, Queene Elizabeth. In event of the abdication or death of the Queene, wee this sonne, Francis, Prince of Wales, inherit this throne and this crowne, and our land shall rejoice, for it shall have a wise soveraigne. God e'dued us with wisedome, th' gift granted in answer to Salomon's prayers. It is not in us aught unmeet or headie-rash to say this, for our Creatour onlie is prais'd. None will charge here manifestation of worldly vanitie, for it is but th' pride naturall to mindes such as we injoye, indeed, in common with all youthfull roial pri'ces. If it should bee wanting, then might all men saye wee lack'd th' very essence of a roiall or a ruling spirit, or judge that we were unfit to raigne over mightie England. It is onely one of our happie dreemes of a day to come, that doth draw us on to build upon this grou'd, inasmuch as it shall be long, perhaps, if soe bright a daye dawne, ere we shal bask in his sunny rayes. Even now, th' mother who IN THE MIRROUR OF MODESTIE. 83 might proclayme our succession doth scarcely keep us in her imployment. At no time doth a love for her two sonnes so move her, as to lead her, a queene by inherited right, to do as her roiall pare't had providently done, or to declare the succession should be to her right heyres by a just union with that wel markt sutour, Robert D. Fine mindes as ours cannot suffer this fortune without making anie attempte to recover by skillfull meanes th' fame, if not th' honour, which unkind fates have taken away from us. Wee fain would write workes most lofty in their style, which, being suited as well to -representation upon th' stage as to bee read in libraries, may soe go foorth and so re'ch manie in th' land not as wise, mayhap, in knowledge, yet as great as others in loialtie and in fierie spirit. If that deficiency be in a measure filled in our realme, this labour in coming yeeres wil surely bee of benefit, although it bee unknowne for a long season what is the cause and ultimate designe, and, in the end, our new inventio' wil excell this as a mode of transmitting all matters of a secret or delicat' nature. It requyreth more time in preparation, since pains must necessarilie be used least the keyes bee lost in giving the parts locatio' that altereth th' sense. As naught else was intended when our original designe was fourm'd, a change of that which shal bee imparted in this way, the hidden epistle thus safely preserv'd from th' wrackes of time's floode, can bee understood as importa't to our people of Brittain, even as to us, for 'tis their own roiall Prince, who, sufferi'g such wrongs,, can patie'tlie heare th' silent houres noe longer, though life should ever hang in the bal- ance for th' rashnesse. One thing doth somewhat encourage our young faith in enjoyment heereafter of our kingdo'e ; that is, our advice from a friend whose wise counsaile hath long bin aidante and comforting. It is to this effect : That in age is a sense of dutie most felt, as is made plaine in freque't marked 84 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON examples of tardie restorations late in life many examples of a deathbed arousing a man, his dormant con- science, to such sense of justice, that all wrong, i' his power to see rectified, in wisedo'e have beene righted. Wee there- fore have beene in hope of our winni'g this inherita'ce in due time. We know how wearie, ever, is hope deferr'd. In th' Holy Booke of th' Scripture it saith : "Hope deferr'd maketh the heart sicke." Bee not, however, of opinion our hope is immediately to become England's King. Wee request but our naturall right : that we be declar'd the true heyre as the first borne son to our Queene, borne to her in honourable marriage with Robert D. ; the Prince o' Wales whyles our parent be livi'g, but the propper souveraigne with name and stile quite disstinct fro' others English kings having soe farre had no Francis on th' scrowl that co'tayneth their worthy Christian names in proper course o' time, as other that were princes have had fortune before this in our realm. Th' earliest shews of favour of this roial mother, as patronesse rather than parent, were seene when she hon- or'd our roofe so farre as to become th' guest of goode Sir Nicholas Bacon that kinde man wee suppos'd our father then, as well wee might, for his unchangeable gentle kind- nesse, his consta't carefullnesse for our honour, our safetie, and true advancement. These become marked as th' studie that wee pursew'd did make our tong sharp to replie when shee asked us a perplexing question, never, or at least seldome, lacking Greeke epigram to fit those shee quoted, and wee w r ere ofte bro't into her gracious presence. It liveth, as do dreemes of yesternight, when now wee close our eies the statelie moveme'ts, grace of speech, quick smile and sodaine anger, that oft, as April cloudes come acros the sunne yet as sodainly are withdrawn, fill'd us with succeeding dismay, or brim'd our cup immediately with joy. IN THE MIRROUR OF MODESTIE. 85 It doth as ofte recur that th' Queene, our roiall mother, sometimes said in Sir Nicholas' eare on going to her coach : "Have him wel instructed in knowledge that future station shal make necessary." Naturally quick of hearing, it reaching our eares was caught o' th' wing, and long turned and pondered upon, but we found no meaning, for all our witte, no whisp'red woorde having passed th' lippes of noble Sir Nicholas on the matter. It was therefore long ere we knew our birth roial, and th' fond love of both foster parentes was restrainte and staye to our young spirit when the wild and fierie tempest sodainelie brast upo' us. This dread force would otherwise have ruined, wasted and borne us adrift like a despoil' d harvest. In course of time, in a horrible passio' of witles wrath, th' revelation was thus flasht, like as lightning, upon us by our proude roial parent herself e. We were in prese'ce as had manie and oftentimes occurr'd, Que. E. havi'g a liking of our manners with a nomber o' th' ladies and severall of the gentlemen of her court, when a seely young maiden babied a tale Cecill, knowing her weakeness, had whispered in her eare. A daungerous tidbit it was, but it well did satisfy th' malicious soule of a tale-bearer such as R. Cecill, that concern'd not her associate ladies at all, but th' honour, the honesty of Queene Elizabeth. Noe sooner breath'd aloude then it was hearde by the Queene, noe more, in truth, then halfe hearde then 'twas avenged by th' enraged Queene. Never had we seene fury soe terrible, and it was some time that wee remayned in silent, horror-strook dis- maye, at the fiery overwhelming tempest. At last when stript of al her fraile attire, the poor maid in frightened remors' lay quivering at Queene Elizabethes feet, almost depriv'd o' breath, stil feeblie begging that her life be spar'd nor ceasi'g for a mome't till sense was lost no longer might we looke upon this in silence ; and bursting like fulmin'd lightning through the waiting crowde of the 86 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON astonished courtiers and ladies, surrou'ding in a widening circle this angry Fury and her prey, wee bent a knee cravi'g that wee might lifte up the tender bodie and bear it thence. A dread sile'ce that foretels a storm fell on the Queene for a space, as th' cruell light waxed brighter and th' cheeke burnt as, th' flame. As the fire grew to blasti'g heat, it fell upon us like the bolt of Jove. Losing controll immediatelie ' of both judgement and discretion, th' secrets of her heart came hurtling forth, stunning and blasting the sense, till we wanted but a jot of swooning likewise. Not onely did wee believe ourselfe to be base, but also wee beleeved the angry reproaches of such kinde as never can bee cleared awaie, for she declar'd us to be the fruit of a union of the sorte that is oft lustf ull and lascivious the secret ; and in suppressing th' name of our father, she did in very truth give us reaso' to f eare the blot of which we speake. When, however, Ladie Anne Bacon, hearing th' tale which wee tolde, made free and full relation how this secret marriage with th' Earle, our fonde sire, whom we knew little and lov'd not more then was due, was consumated, it greatlie excited our imagination, so that we wrote it dow r ne in a varietie of formes, and intende the use, both as one part of her history relating closelie to our owne, and as suited to representative historic that may bee acted on our stage. The preparatio' that must naturallie be made, can bee wel understood to be much greater, inasmuch as it must be secret as the grave ; but it can yet bee accomplish'd, if time be granted to carrie out our Cyphars as devis'd. Seeke, in th' kind of letters now us'd, for one more secret storie : after disciph'ring the same, then look onely to the Italicke pri'ting. F. PLANETOMACHIA. 1585. ROBERT GREENE. With great and patie't perseverance, unending, resolute labour, such as you shall also shew at eventide and at morne if you winne lawrells, or finde a cyphar none will have the honour or th' favour to employ, asuredlie, for a short periode, this work is dutifully persued for our advance- me't. As all may know, in time, the reason why 'tis yet hidden history of our present time and a time not very far fro' th' present, doubt not, our title to England's throne must soone bee known. Althoug' a life, no other then our mother's, reinovi'g our naturall claym yet another degre, must keepe us still subject to the uncertaine duratio' as well as the fortune of one other being beside our owne self e, we have faith in our sire, who, whilst now hee loveth his peace, and quiet enjoie- ment of th' roiall kindnese soe much no love of his offspring is manifest, hath in his naturall spirit that which yet might leade to a matching of a roiall spouse 'gainst the princes, that a ballance may be maintayned. Hee is, it wil no doubt bee remembered, the Lord Robert Dudley, Earle of Leister, whom our historic so oft nameth. Hee who beareth likewise the titles of Baron of Denbigh, Master of th' Queene's Majestie's Horse (s), of th' Order of th' Garter, her Highnesse' Privie Councilour, et cetera, in affec- tio' nor in honours no way*doth see a lacke on the part of a woman, who, in ascending the English throne, did, like a common mayden of her realme, hide those secret counsells in her owne f aire bosome. Aye, few ghest that her suitour was her wedded lord. In truth, had not our farre seeing sire exercised more then the degree that was his wont, or his privilege, of au- 87 88 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON thoritie, Elizabeth had rested contente with th' marriage ceremony perf orm'd in the Tower, and would not have asked for regall, or even noble pompe with attendants and witnesses; nor would she have wish'd for more state, be- cause being quite bent upon secrecy, she with no want of justice contended, "The fewer eyes to witnesse, the fewer tongues to testify to that which had beene done." As hath beene said, Earle of Leicester then foresaw the daye when he might require the power this might grant him, and no doubt this proved true, altho' we, th' first- borne sonne of the secret union, have profited by no meanes therfrom, since we unfortunately incurr'd his great and most rancourous ill will, many yeares backe. As you no doubt are cognisant of our summarie banishment to beau- tifull France, which did intend our correction but oped to us the gates of Paradise, you know that our sire, more ev'n then our roiall mother, was bent upon our dispatch thither, and urg'd vehemently that subseque't, artfullie contriv'd business concerning affaires of state intrusted to us in much th' same manner, we thought, as waighty affaires were laid upon Sir Amyas, with whom they sent us to th' French Court. By some strange Providence, this served well the pur- poses of our owne heart ; for, making cyphares our choyse, we straightway proceeded to spend our greatest labours therein, to find a methode of secret communication of our historie to others outside the realme. That, however, drew noe suspition upon this device, inasmuch as it did appeare quite naturall to one who was in companie and under the instruction of our ambassadour to the Court o' France ; and it seemed, on th' part of our parents, to afford peculiar relief, as shewing that our spirit and minde had calmed, as the ocean after a tempest doth sinke into a sweete rest, nor gives a signe of th' shippewracke belowe the gently rolli'g surface. IN PLANETOMACHIA. 89 For such simple causes were we undisturb'd in a search after a meanes of transmitting our secret history. Fayli'g this as no doubt our discypherer doth know, ere nowe we devised this double alphabet Cyphar which with patience may be discovered, with another having within the body the keies to separate it into parts, that it may be joined by our lawe and come forth in that forme which first it bore under our hand. Thus shal we see our work arise, as, in the Judgement Day, the soules that death set free shall rise again in their celestiall bodies, such as they were first created, or as they existed in the thought of God ; and as the glory of the terrestriall is different from th' glorie of the celestiall, so the beauties of the one shall not be as th' other. It hath beene our practise, from th' first Cyphar epistle to th' present letter, to scatter th' history widely, having great feare alwaies that our roiall mother may, by some ill- chance, come upo' the matter, and our life bee the forfeit ere half this labour bee ended. Should she laje hand upon the epistle, no eie save her owne would evermore read this interiour history. Where our Cyphar shiftes with sud- dennes, our decypherer needeth more patience. FRA. B. A TREATISE OF MELANCHOLY. 1586. T. BRIGHT. Verily, to make choyse of mouthpeeces 'for our voice, is farre fro' being a light or pleasi'g, but quite necessarie and important, missio' ; and it oft in truth swaloweth all we receive from our writtings ere such cost be paid. None must thinke, however, that this doth moove us to forego th' worke. Rather would a slowly approaching death bee desir'd, or haste'd to summo' us quicklie, then that we now weaken in our great undertaki'g of writing out, in our 90 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON secrete but playne manner of transmitti'g, our history, as hath here bene sayd in our other Cyphar ; also a most full and compleat storie of this so-styl'd maiden queene, her marriage, when prisonner at the Tower at command o' Queene Mary, and her prior mad love profess'd for Sey- mour, a man manie a yeare elder yet not greatly wiser then th' willf ull princesse. The early piety, that manie credulou' men attempt to proove, is most disprov'd by so unnecessary intemperance, wantonnesse, and over vehemence of affection, betrai'd towards a gentleman olde enough, if vertuoslie inclined, to guide a young princesse to piety, when in her co'fide'ce, for sundry thi'gs come with experie'ce, rather the' give her greefe, or future sorrow, never asswag'd on earth. Friendshippe alone should binde a man's mind strongly, that he curbe well his inordinate concupiscence and sin. He, by disownei'g the child, subjected the princely heart to ignominie, and co'pelled Elizabeth to murder this infant at the very first slight breath, least she bee openly sham'd in Court, inasmuch as King Edward was intoller- ant of otheres foibles, whilst partiall to his owne. This sad narrative is in the other Cyphar. It could not bee at once incorporated, because the parts should not bee plact near to one another. It must be quickly scene, there- fore, it was needfull to commingle manie stories in one booke. None having beene finish'd at this* time, the faith- full decypherer is most solemnlie enjoin'd to follow th' one he can worke out at once, because it hath manifold instruc- tions for Cyphar writing, which should doubtlesse be of great use in a future work of a sorte much unlike anything hee hath yet seene. It is undoubtedly possible so to write anything what- soever, that any who hath sufficient witte, join'd with as great a measure of patience, may work out th' hidden his- *Second Ed., published same year. IN A TREATISE OF MELANCHOLY. 91 torie without other directions then he heerein may duly finde. We have in our idole times amused and likewise well assured ourselfe of our inve'tion, of which wee most frequently speake, by ourselfe working from our published worke, that which formerly bore other names, th' some- times weak yet not unworthy portio's translated from noble Homer, his poemes, or great Virgill's verse. By such maner of finding parts of the hidden stories, this contri- vance is very constantlie in emploiement, and all our future discypherer's difficulties, by prevision, made lesse, so that he should not, in th' midst of his work, in wearinesse turne backe. In many workes such as the poemes at present sup- pos'd to belong to Spenser and Greene the discypherer wil see portions of a secret storie chieflie co'cerning our lovely Marguerite of Navarre, Queene of that realme and our heart. Love of her had power to make the Duke of Guise forget the greatest honours that France might confer upon him ; and hath power as wel to make all such fleeting glory seeme to us like dreames or pictures, nor can wee name ought reall that hath not origin in her. At one time a secret jealousy was consta'tlie burning in our vains, for Duke Henry then f ollow'd her day in and out, but she hath given us proof of love that hath now sette our hart at rest on th' qua?ry. FRANCIS, PRINCE O' WALES. EUPHUES MOKAKDO. 1587. ROBERT GREENE. Happie th' man, who, wearing in humble life a crowne such as the Jewes of former dayes platted for th' Christ, must win later the much priz'd golden rigoll which is worne by mortall men who are blest. Shut our eyes we cannot. A hand upon th' heart would not crush out the life, as doth 92 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON feare that we may fail to win our proper crowne though th' Queene be our *mother. Dailie we see cause of this co'stantlie increasing dread, in the favour shewne to our brother rather than to ourselfe, despite the prioritie of our clayme to all princelie honour. And th' frenzied eagernes hee doth bewray, when these shews and vauntlinglie marked favours, give co'firmatio' strong as proofes o' Holie Writ of our wise- dome, maketh us to inquire sadly of our owne hart whether our brother returneth our warm affection. The love we beare him is as fresh at this day, as it was in his boyhoode, when the relationship was for some time so carefully kept unknow r n as th' fact was, for yeares, guarded of our high birth and station. Xot a thought then enter'd th' brain, that it was not a pleasure for us both to share. Our joies were thus two-fold, our sorrowes all cut in twaine ; but th' pride of his heart having beene aroused, our eies can but note th' change, for hee seldom doth keep the former waies in remembrance. Even in his manner now, we thinke, one thought hath a voyce: "Without a brother like ours that hath come before us by sixe short yeares, we could rely whollie upon ourselfe, and, further- more, bee th' heyre to England's throne." Nothing soe open, so unmistakeable ; but at times he maketh a great shew, stranger to our heart then the colde ungracious manner. When this spirit of kindnes is felt noe more when this shall, be lost th' minde can furnish few thoughtes, wrought thro' pain, from mem'ries of th' past houres o' joy, to comforte and console it, Whe' th' heart hath suffer'd change, and a breach beginneth to widen, noe wordes fill it up. An altred affection, one weakly parteth from, of neede, for noe redresse is suitable. *Morando. IN MORANDO. 93 The chiefe cause nowe of the uneasinesse is, however, the questio' that hath risen regarding these plots of Mary, and those of th' olde faith a question of Elizabethe's clayme to the throne, and therefore, likewise, our owne. With everyone whose aime putteth him very seldom to blush, in heart, we desire onelie that this supreme right shall bee also supreme power. This doth more depende npon some work of Henries, then this secret royale espousall wee mention oft. Hence a wish that is not perhaps un- worthie in us, under such peculiar circumstances surround- ing not only ourself e but our brother, to write another his- tory. F. B. PEEIMEDES PAKDOSTO. 1588. ROBERT GREENE. Til other writings have bene finish'd, you cannot carry out the wish we doe so frequentlie utter, that the deciph- erer shall take up a grave taske that of writing againe a historic that shal be as strange as one in a suspitious drama not claiming to be narrative save of a fayned storie. . 'Tis, however, true in everie circumstance as true as truth. Our heart is almost bursting with our indignation, grief, and sorrowe ; and wee feel our penne quivering, as a steed doth impatientlie stand awaiting an expected note of the home o' the hunt, ere darti'g, as an arrowe flies to the targe, across moor and glen. We write much in a feverous long- ing to live among men of a future people. Here in the Court, th' story is but as th' tale that the olde wives tell as they sit in comfort by the fire tho' it be tolde as truth, seldome accredite'. It is ofttimes repeeted, yet is as fre- quently waived ; for 'tis as dangerous sorte of speech as can 94 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON come within th' compasse of faithful courtiers' intercourse. 'Twould show ill, if publisht so that all within reach might know it, besides costing our life, altho' it is truth itself. Manifestly the truth is now da'gerous and should bee con- ceal'd. Rex you must know to be our future title. F., PR. OF W. SPANISH MASQUERADO. EDITIONS 1589. ROBERT GREENE. Turn to a booke entitul'd Alcida, a Metamorphosis, befo' you decipher that most interesting Tale of Troie, lately written to make a piece suited to our translatio' of th' divine workes of Homer, Prince of Poetes, and also of noble Virgill, co'ceal'd in cyphars. Thinking to be, by a waie of our devising, able to write the secret story so that it may in a time not farre off acquaint many of our people with our true name, we also do ask, (in al of our work we publish under names that be almost trite) that every arte bee used to take th' Cyphre out. Works o' Homer, printed, cannot go to oblivion; and if our carefull planne preserve those rich gemmes, it shal build our owne moniment of that which shall outlast all els, and make our name at least reflect the glorie, that must as long as our changing, sub- tlie altering mother-tongue endure be seene af arre. FR., PRINCE. Another edition of above printed same year. Turn to a booke entitul'd Alcida, a Metamorphosis, befo' you decipher that milde Tale o' Troy, that may, truth to say, well be nam'd a cistur', because severall riven rockes yet give sacred dewe therto verses of Homer of unmatch'd beautie ; of th' prince, soe nam'd, of those that it pleas'd to IN SPANISH MASQUERADO. 95 write in Latine, Virgill ; Petrarck in a fine line ; or Ennius, braving daily surly critike but miraculouslie kept soe free as to strike all with dismaie. Our one hope of leaving our cipha' historic in like surrou'dinges, you, by marking soe- cal'd joining or co'bining keies, doe as easily unmask as we do inve't a meanes to hide. The furtherance of our much cherrish'd plan, keepeth us heartened for our work, making hope, or wish even of immediate recogniza'ce, of little con- sequence beside such possible renowne as might bee ours in a farre off age thorow our i'vention. When first our wo'drous Ciphar, surging up in the minde, ingu'ft our nightly thought, th' mind far out-ran al posi (Incomplete joins with some other work not yet deciphered.) FRANCIS BACON'S BI-LITERAL CIPHER PART II. (Reprint, Second Edition. ) THE DECIPHERED SECRET STORY. 1590 to 1635. CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED. H ** Complaints. Containing fundne [mall Toemes of the Worlds t next Pag menti- By ED. SP. L O N D O N. Imprinted Pwf&ntie, dv/clling in Paules Churchyard at the figne of the A note of the ftindrie Poemcs contained in this Volume. / Thc f RjtincsofTimc\ 2 The T cares of the zJMufcs. 3 Uirgils Gnttt*. 4 r Pro/opopoia i or *JM other Hubberd$ T*lc> 5 The RuinesofRome : by Bcllay. 6 tjliuiofotmotpt The Tale of the.32 utter jtie. 7 Uiponi of the Worlds vantoe. 8 TiettAycs vifions. 9 Tctrarchesvipons. EDMUND SPENSER. COMPLAINTS. 1590 AND 1591. As feares for life are powerfull motives for the adoptio' of secret methodes of inscribing such portions of history as the sovereign chooseth to have shut within the memory, you may not think strange if you discover here a Ciphe' epistle, but we earnestly beseech and humbly pray you to be the guard to our secret as to your owne. In truth our life is now put in real deadly dange' from her that hath our *destiny as in the hollowe o' her smal palme. Her selfe-love *more then our good fame dom- inates in her whole heart, being powerfull to *oreballance sweete mothe' love. *Betray not our dear hope, for soe much doth our life seeme made up of nought else, if it bee lost wee dye and make no signe. A man doth slowly eat his very inmost soule and hart, when there shall cease to bee a friend to whom he may open his inner thought, knowledge, or life, and it is to you, by means little knowne and lesse suspected at present writ- ing, that we now addresse an epistle. But if you bee as blinde to this as others, this labour's lost, as much as love's in th' play we have staged of *late. Our name is Fr. Bacon, by adoption, yet it shall be dif- ferent. Being of blood roial, (for the Queene, our sov'- raigne, who maried by a private rite the Earle Leicester and at a subseque't time, also, as to make *surer thereby, *Visions of the World's Vanitie. *Visions of Bellay. ""Visions of Petrarch. *Epistle Dedicatory, etc. *Ruine of Time. *Tears of the Muses. 2 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. without pompe but i' th' presence o' a suitable number of witnesses, bound herself e by those hymeneall bands againe is our mother, and wee were not base-born or base begot) we be Tudor, and our stile shall be Francis First, in all proper cours of time, th' king of our realme. Early in our life, othe or threat as binding in effect as othe, wee greatly doubt was made by our wilful parent concerning *succession, and if this cannot bee chang'd, or be not in time w'thdraAvn, wee know not how th' kingdome shall be obtain'd. But 'tis thus scene or shewn that it can bee noe other's by true desce't, then is set down. To Francis First doth th' crowne, th' honor of our land belong. Some have won this right by force in battaile. Of such take, in example, th' first Tudor; or, at our day, Henry of Navarre. Yet, not being of a martiall temper, we bee naturally averse, and slightlic impatie't of fighting to *secure a place which by Divine right pertaineth unto the first-borne of a soveraigne. If you note th' saltnesse of this relation, let it not great- lie surprise you: rather marvell at it if you see no worse things, for we are somewhat bitter in spirit oft-times as other men would be. It killes joyes blossomes on seing by one's side glide all feares; and some by struggles, tiring ene the might of noblest and th' most daring of soldiers, strive t' get an advantage of *their besetting foes. But wee choose another waye, and a different course. A ruler, especially a ruler of so mightie a kingdome as this, having power in a wondrous degree, sho'ld winne like fame. It is this wee seeke. F. B. * Virgil's Gnat. Prosopopoia. *Ruines of Rome. COLIN CLOVTS Come home againe. S) Ed. Spencer. LONDON Printed for William fonfonlie. I 39 5*- TO THE RIGHT worthy and noble Knight Sir Walter Raleigh y CaptaineofherMaiefties Guard, Lord Wardeinofthe Stanncries, and Lieutenant of the Count ie of Cornwall* (V) / R, that you may fee that lamrtotal- waiesydle AS yee thinke , though not greatly well occupied , nor altogether vnduti fully though not prccifely of- fcious^ Imakeyottprefent ofthtsfim- plepaftorall) vnworthit of your high- er conceiptforthemeanejfe ofthejlife, but agreeing with the truth in circumstance and mat- ter. The -which 1 humbly befeecb you to accept in part cfpaiment of the infinite debt in which 1 acknowledge my felfe-bounden 'unto you, for your Jtngular fauours andfundrie good turnes shewed to me at my late being in England^ and with your good countenance protect a- gainst the malice of euill mouthes , which are alwaits wide opento carpe at and mifconff rue my fimple meaning. A 2 / The EpifileDedicarorie. / prty -continually for your bappineffe. From my houje of Kilcolman, the 27. of December, * I j 9 I. Yours euer humbly. Ed. sp. IN COLIN CLOUT. COLIN CLOUT. 1595. As all eies have glanc'd but lightly on such a Cyphar in th' former poems put out in this name," our fear may rest, for surely no eye is bente suspiciouslie or with inquiry upon anie. Often was worke, when in danger of too strict or careful note, divided, and but a part given foorth at a time, e. g. some latelie set forth in th' name of Greene and Peele, or in this, a few yeares ago. Marlow is also a pen name ^mploi'd ere taking Wm. Shakespeare's, as our masque or vizard, that wee should remayne unknowne, inasmuch as wee, having worked in drama, history that is most vig'rously supprest, have put ourself e soe greatly in dange' that a word unto Queene Elizabeth, without doubt, would give us a sodaine horriblle end an exit without re-en- trance for in truth she is authour and preserve' of this, our being. We, by men call'd Bacon, are sonne of the sov'raigne, Queene Elizabeth, who whe' confin'd i' th' tow'r, married Ro. D. FR. B. 4 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. FAERIE QUEENE. 1596. E. Sp. could not otherwise so easilie atchieve honours that pertyne to' ourself e. Indeed this would alone crowne his head, if this were all I speake not of golden crowne, but of lawrell for our pen is dipt deepe into th' Muses' pure source. Although to conceale these Cyphe', th' works thus appear' d, we were in good hope that whe' our divers small poemes might bee scene in printed forme, th' approvall o' Lord Leicester might be gain'd: hee, as doubtlesse you found in earlier decyphering, being our owne father, and in a waie, having matters in his hands regarding the rec- ognition, and th' remuneratio' Her Ma. should offer, suit- ably rewarding soe great labours. Th' wish to shew our God-given powers and gifts of song warr'd with th' resolve made in heat of young bloud alreadie familiar as a vow from your own soule, inasmuch as it can onely bee car- ried on thro' your aide. The hidden letter taketh man back to a time in Eliza- beth's raigne, cloaked, as might bee said, in a night blacker, if that be possible, then .Night, or ./Egyptian, Stygian or anie blacknesse knowne to anie times or peoples. Fewe women of any countrey, royall or not, married or single, would play so madly dari'g, so wildly venturing a game, as Queene E , our willfuly blind mother, who hath for many long yeares been wedded to th' Earle of Leicester. A king's daughter gave a worthie president to all states, in that shee would wed as her wishes dictated, not thro' negotiation and by treaty. But it would at pres- ent appear to be forgotten since we hoped to winne youth- IN FAERIE QUEENE. 5 full love's first blossome for life's girlo'd but were refus'd, and helde to customarie observances as firmlie as anie cere- monial court might require. It was upon this grievous failure (much more grievous at that blacker houre of mourning for our kind father of our earliest remembrance, if not our sire in th' naturall way of bloud) a great attract wonne more on our minde our true right, true, lawfull, divine gift, our kingdome more from plain statements that were made concerning our true hope of the succes- sion; yet Her Ma. though given to rashnesse, seldome speaketh out of her hart in presence-hal, or whylst i' th' councell, having a desire of showi'g foorth the royal tem- per of her sire rather then a woman, her spirit. All this work'd with some power in th' yong heart. One historick drama afterward, gave th' first full history therein, but it is in a Word-Cypher, that doubtful as our aventure seem'd, we are in hope is master'd. Th' Cipher playes are a good ensample of th' dramas we now write, and tho' it be not secret, the history of King Edward First and King Edward Second will not appeare in our name, th' Cypher letters being contain'd in these, but Edouard Third was us'd for proofe of th' Cypher we give. Th' keies may bee found soone, and wee will now shew an argument of the play for ayd to a correcte writing. You will thus observe that in plays, onlie scenes which hold the eye are of Use. We commence, therefore, with th' seizure of Eoger Mortimer who rul'd with the ayd, so cald, of th' Queene-mother. Edouard was leader of a choyce number, bardie and bold in temper, so that when he dema'ded that he should be declar'd king, Parliament promptly issued the proclamation making him ruler. No sooner was hee well establisht in England in great 6 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. power, then he straightwaie elaim'd the crowne of riche France since he was sonne t' the sister of King Philip, th' late sov'raigne, whereupon th' councel make answer in strong deni'l of such right, as by the Sa[l]ike lawe th' throne is neither held nor can be transmitted thro' a woman. The warres which folow'd were long and cruell. At Crecie Prince Edward, named the Black Prince, could by noe means be restrained fro' battaile. He was then giv'n charge of th' troops at their right, which he array 'd so that th' men-att-armes, who being more sturdy of build, stood fastest in line; then with English weapon'd archers he formed a mighty hearse and comanded all to remaine firme, nor advance. Seeing th' knights rushing tumult- uously to battaile, his eager men chafed and faine had dis- obey 'd their orders but the Prince bade his train'd war- riours stand firme and await their foes. When but a stone's throwe distante they were allow'd a single stride forward; their aime, being so cool, was sure as th' shafts of Death. France saw her bravest o' souldiers slaine like sheepe. Warwicke, and th' troopes he led, folowed the example in th' maine body; and Oxford, commanding his left wing, also kept his eager troopes in checke after the same man- ner. It was the good fortune of the Prince to slaie by his owne hand th' king of Bohemia, aydant o' the French. Wearinesse seeiu'd far from his limbs and his corage flagg'd not, but seeing him rushing into the conflicte, a messenger went t' find Edward's sire beseeching aide. "But," asked the sire, "hath my sonne fallen?" "No, Your Ma." "Nor wounded?" "Noe, unhurt, Your Ma." IN FAERIE QUEENE. ? "A prisoner?" "Free, Yo' Ma." "Say yee he needeth ayde? My lion's whelp shall win glory to-day. This is a mighty vict'ry none may share." A victory it was. but hardly wonne, and it did not end our troubles in that land afterwards there was Poictiers, also Callice. Then was th' black death sent upon the peo- ple from farre-of Cathay and the dead were numberlesse. All Europe by that dread scorge felt th' heavy hand of God. By th' black death was Laura snatcht from th' poete. Divine sorrow gave his pen its theme. England was almost depriv'd of labourers, for the plague was heavie o' those whom coarsenesse of comon food ingrosed, yet those who were fed with fare o' th' king perish'd likewise. In th' third division, since (i) it was necesary to have noe lesse then these in order t' represent his long raigne, you see th' waning fortunes of Prince Edward in th' south. Losse of faire Limoges not long afte' th' putting of th' worthlesse king of Spayne on the trembling throne of th&t countrey by th' aide of their soe c FAERIE QUEENE. SECOND PART, JOINS. 1596. [c] ailed free companies Pedro of surname, th' cruell un- favourably looked upon as it was, it in noe wave daunted him, our conquering prince, nor restrai'd him. However, hee had but half enjoyed this triumph of his troopes in th' South, before th' Bastard unseated Pedro and made him seeke shelter in France. Following slowly, Edward, no lesse courageous, I [ay] more gallant even, found many thinges captivating to th' hero. In such a mode of life, his spoiles were quickly expended. Th' sweating hast of '8 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. th' long marches, compleatly exhausting the men and dim- inishi'g the eagernesse to goe into battaile, th' seductive and thoroughly eiiervati'g revells that the souldiers follow'd as eagerlie as they had pursu'd the foe, nowe made it neces- sarie to go home to bring ove' his forces, and alreadie he began to bee aware that his returne wou'd lacke .much of the interesse and excitement that attended him on a former occasio'. Also hee knew that his honour wo'ld bee far lesse, his entrie lesse glorious and triumphant then when th' King of Fra'ce rode as a prisonner beside him. It might then, we sho'ld have sayd, bee readilie seene that hee stood high in all the people's harts. London seemed to stryve to outshine ev'n herselfe, soe that they spar'd neither pains nor money to adde to the honour or his glory. On this occasion lesse glory was given him by th' comon hindes, and th' bonfires which they love best were soe few, hee, himselfe, inquired: "Is there no more fewel? Are we povertie strucken?" After soe milde a wellcome, his spirit yearn'd greatly for more conquests, yet hee fell quicklie into the Syren's snares of pleasure, like his sire, that was for long in stro'g bondes, not becoming or kinglie. Many courtiers eagerly imitating a well honour'd king in his vices, our good olde England soe well renown'd thro' Europe, and ev'n unto Jewrie for sobriety, nowe began to bee kiiowne for her mirth and gaiety. After th' decease of the vertuous Phillipa, Edward was greatly in the power of one of a great number of ladies which surrou'ded all this traine, even as the gay women els'where thro'g round courtiers. He had given th' name of "Th' Lady of the Sun" to the fayre being, and it is no doubt quight a prope' style, being, I am assured, every IN FAERIE QUEENE. 9 wave fitting; for fewe on earth have so dazling beauty, verilie, like to that lovelinesse of Circe, f aire daughter of Phoebus. Her triumphs were compleat, as it may well be conceyv'd, whilst Edward's supreame sovereignty lasted, but after awhile she drank the sweetnese from her full glasse and found its dregs as bitter as wormewoode. Wise Solomon would have foretold this sodain downefal, if she had but read it in th' Book of Wisdom. You may seeke it, if it be doubtf ull to yourself e. Blind fate could not bee a sterner, or in truth, soe sterne an executioner. But I do digresse. After these portio's have their great contrasts most clearlie set out, I shew th' death of this hero, yet not too fully. That of the King is, however, omited, my wish being to fixe men's mindes rather upon the doughtinesse that he exhibited, his other qualities of a true and wise man of th' olde times, whe' to bee king compelled him to wear armoure, and leade into a battell, aventuring everiethi'g of valew, life, kingdome, people, to retayne his posses- sions. To mine owne selfe this waye of maintaining the Divine right is repugna't, and when I come at last into my right, th' power of the minde shall by my wisdome as may be said by th' writer of Cypher workes that possiblie be con- ceal'd so well that noe other eie may se how wise he is in his conceipt bee shewne to be greatly exceeding that of the sinewy right arme. This is my hope in labour, oft as hard and as fatigui'g as falleth to him that hath alwaies toyl'd for his bread, as 'tis by such meanes that kingly mindes should bee disciplin'd. Th' fears that fill'd and harrassed all my minde, when with a strong motive for secrecy soe well knowne to my dis- 10 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. ciph'rer, this Cypher was i'vented, have become farre more constant, for I can observe maiiie things which pointe to great watchf nines o' th' part of those whom my. mother, thorow that spye Cecill, hath beene induc'd to set to minde everie interest and employme't that I have. This writing doth attracte attention, yet is not known to come fro' my penne, therefore I may freely open my soule herein and give to posterity this sad story of my misfortunes and still cherish this hope that a time shall come when right shall prevayl. Your humble servant, FRA'C. BACON. SHAKESPEARE QUAKTO. RICHARD SECOND. 1598. By having Arte for a guidi'g word, it must be only quicke sight could see where my discipherer hath bin directed. Other men, indeed, or such as were induc'd to take my works wil winne his attention by word or signe known to the faithfull man who is to bring this history to that vast world which lieth dreamlesse far, far off, as a thing apart. These are as Greene, his worke, hath said. First all those great yet lame lines, none having sight of think to contayn anie Cyphe', and the epickes of Faerie Queene, Honour; Marlowe's fine guide, Reputation; Peele's, Nature; Melanc'olie, Truth; Greene, Fortune car- rieth. My guide is Time, as all that I do, tho' great, sus- taineth such change of forme as Time maketh desired, and little hath at this writing come forth as Time's other then a little prose, for great secrets will surelie have to guard all doores t' avoid surprises and capture. Men call me Bacon but I am the Queene's future heyre. F. IN DAVID AND BETHSABE. 11 GEOKGE PEELE. DAVID AND BETHSABE. 1599. You looke thorowe our worke and finde but part of noted Cypher of use to all. Axes and every kinde of weapon would fall with swifte justice on th' head of th' adventurous man that should openlie inserte such historic here. Her Ma. should by so mad daring, dubbe me, to th' courageous men of our broad land, as a Sonne of Follie. You, I know, muse on it wond'ri'g at a tale soe hidden when so oft over- lookt by my many inquiring or inquisitive enimies; but none hath yet found the secret herein told. You must give everything grav' attentio' if any other famed Cyphars be found. ISTone must hold the opinion that our history may be giv'n with speedy pen, since there be much of a secret nature closelie conjoyn'd, and in puting foorth our Cyphe', must nere be pass'd by. Although not our life, it can at once, wee do assure you, be cleerly shewne, noe chapter may wel be lefte, as all twineth closelie, bindi''g such firme bands noe one may sep- arate them. The story that we related o'' th' life that we led at the Court at Fr (pages missing) .... but all must first bee found in our workes. Confessio's do somewh't discompose anie that doe think our work but a pastime. It is quite well worth our weary labor. FRA'CIS B. 12 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS. MIDSOMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. ROBERTS EDITION 1600. i That unfinish'd work may furder occupy your time and until one play have beene wel decipher'd let noe othe' have atte'tion for the storie, oft in disjoin'd and broken work, will give ayd. Read of a man of our realm that at morn, or eve, plai's spy on my everie act under great secrecy, and gave me manie a cause in m' youth to make life in Fraunce most beneficent. Of his great hatre', one o' my greatest sor- rowes grewe, and my hasty banishme't following quite close, that at that time seem'd maddening, but as in th' most commone of our youthful experiences, became the chiefe delight. In plays that I wrote about that time, the story of bane and blessings, of joies and greefes, are wel set forth. Indeede, some might say my passion the' had much youthly fire, but th' hate that raged i' mee then was not so fierie, in truth, as th' fierce hate so continualy burning i' th' breast and ofte unwiselie betraid by th' overt acts of the man o' whom I have writ many things. In my hart, too, love so soone ore-threw envie as wel as other evil passions, after I found lonelie Margaret, the Queene o' Navarre, who willingly fram'd excuses to keepe me, with other right royall suitors, ever at her imperiall commandeme't. A wonderful pow'r to create heav'n upon earth was i' that lov'd eye. To winne a shewe o' her fond favour, we were faine to adventer even our honor, or fame, to save and shield her. Thorow love I dreamed out these five other plays, fill'd up as we have seen warp in some MIDSOMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. 13 hand-loome, so as to bee made a beautious color'd webb with words Marguerite hath soe ofte, like to a busy hand, shot dailie into a fayre-hued web, and made a riche-hued damask, vastlie more dear; and should life bewwraie [an] interiour room in my calme but aching brest, on everie hand shal her work be seene. F. BACON. MIDSOMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. FISHER EDITION 1600. It is noe matter if, on discyph'ring one of my Cipher playes, part of wjiich may be already taken forth, something shal lacke. Th' play must of necessity bee an unfinished worke untill its entire matter come from hiding. This no one can doubt, without manifest lacke o' judge- ment, is yet f arre offe. 'Tis th' labour of yeares to provide th' widely varied prose in which th' lines of verse have a faire haven, and lye anchor' d untill a day when th' coming pow'r may say : "Hoist sayle, away ! for the windes of heav'n kisse your fairy streamers, and th' tide is a-floode. On to thy destiny !" You would do well to keepe these numerous, ornate plays close by j th' disguyse in many cases, of more seri'us history then I plac'd in writings noted as works on grave and most important matters. As noe eie is turn'd on inno- cente seeming plays of any kinde, the well hidd'n history may long be safe too safe to work me good or ill in my lifetime I now beleve, yet I have a faith that it will some- time be marked and decipher d, whilst no reall asurance at present being a possibility, terror is in my nightly dre'mes ene as it is in many daye-visiones least it should bee while my selfish, vaine, unnaturall and selfe-will'd or kingly 14 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. mer[e] who nere lov'd a sonne, although that Heaven gave her these twoo, Essex and myselfe, halfe so well as a parent should can doe me more harme. I am Francis, unacknoweleged prince, who was, at a time when saf'tie made it prude't, giv'n to kinder care and love, on th' side o' my adoptif mere, then a parent's. F. B. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 1600. Some kinds of little imprints were invented, as former shew of my timelie suggestion here, would, I dare to be sworne, cause some sharpe-eyed foe to seek my lost name in the name used as my one true instructor dictateth. Pru- dence hath as good cou'sels in times of danger as sadder Experience, and I list onely to her voyce, when my life would, none can doubt, be a spedy, ay' insta't forfeit. For, old as my mere, Elizabeth, England's Queene, is, none can make th' proud, selfish, hating parent, though bound to name him who should in time succe'd to th' throne, shew what most might prove my just, lawful, or, if th' word bee a proper one in such a place, a divine, as by a right Heaven-given, heyr-shippe, having bin borne, as manie times you have found tolde elsewhere, child to th' Queene. IsFo man hath claime to such pow'r as some shal se in mighty England, after th' decease of Virgin Queene E. by dull, slow mortalls farre or near, loved, wooed like some gen'rously affected youth-loving mayden, whylst she is both wife to th' noble lord that was so sodainely cut off in his full tide and vigour of life, and mothe' in such way as th' women of the world have groaninglie bro't mankinde foorth, and must whilst Xature doth raigne of two noble SIR JOHN OLD-CASTLE AND MERCHANT OP VENICE. 15 sonnes, Earle of Essex, train'd up by Devereux [and] he who doth speake to you, th' foster sonne to two wel fam'd frie'ds o' th' Que., Sir Mchola' Bacon, her wo'thie adviser and counselor, and that partne' of loving labor or dutie, my most loved Lady Anne Bacon none needeth soe mentio', truly not to my new, true, bold fr'end, that far from mee through th' spaces o' th' universe, both of duration as well as distance, wil take forth the secret history. F. SIR JOHN OLD-CASTLE AND MERCHANT OP VENICE. J. ROBERTS ED. 1600. See or read. In th' stage-plaies, two, the oldest or earliest devices prove these twentie plays to have bin put upon our stage by the actor that is suppos'd to sell dramas of value, yet 'tis rightlie mine owne labor. Withal after I did dilatate with carefull arte th' plan, I did not doubt the quick decipherer would from it trie other devices also; yet as too niarkt care might place a worke in more perill, indeede saith as clearly to a babe "It is secret work, see!" as [to] deciph'rers, even may th' rule evade inquiry now of eke th' sharpe eyes bending upon it. Law, a f aire code, was trite and is nowise so plact when it is written as was jesting John Premier, his declaratio's, upon trees, to bee th' target of idle archers. It was with as bare-faced audacitie, I doubt not, habituallie assailed as might have bin wel fortho't. Hare were a sight, indeed, when men, who ever hold it [is] man's very need of lighter workes and entertaynme't bri'geth back bard, sweete 16 BI-L1TBRAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. poetes criticks never shal spare, crown'd with blig'ted wre'ths of baye, saying that noe authour with an interesse in rude humanity, who serving God hateth wro'g, wil write as I ha.ve i' both prose and poetry of crime, or aught that th' jesting fooles saye or sing, I kno' not of whom, or th' pangs or the joy o' love, may see any o' their owne so wel kepte evills acted upon our stage. I am base, if, in sight o' th' God both Jew and Chret'en revere, I [ay] who awed th' gods of other lands, not lawe, but evil, governed my mother, Elizabeth, as shee join'd herselfe in a union with Robert Dudley whilst th' oath sworne to one as belov'd yet bound him. I have bene told hee aided in th' removall of this obstructio', when, turni'g on that narrowe treach'rous step, as is naturall, shee lightly leaned upon th' raile, fell on th' bricks th' paving of a court and so died. 'Tis I greatly fear, as true, ev'n, as 'tis misterious, and left a foul blot that is cli'ging yet to his name, still keeping of his closelie done ill, a thou't f arre- reaching as is this universe. This shal all be seene on the stage, and a play shal tel a tale pride shall not keepe, because I am justlie, or by th' lawe, th' Pr. o' Wales, *royall and soe honour'd, grac'd with senses most sharpelie struck or mov'dby the meteor of world- lie grandeur. This is little to be ma' vail' d at, for th' sensi- bilities ofte cause our fancies, and are like an instrume't in the musicia's skilful fingers. If noe cadent teares come to my decyph'rer, I thinke it stranger then hardnesse in others, as 'tis his part t' take the hidden secret fro' this outer false cov'ring with which 'tis disguised, give it to a posterity that is distant, and neither will seeke for, or bee at all cognizante of th' same, without Merchant of Venice. SIR JOHN OLD-CASTLE AND MERCHANT OF VENICE. 17 th' aide of a friend that shall with patience put it forth. If this [be] clear'd, fann'd, and clarified, that all unworthy thi'gs be remov'd as dregs from wort, as bad orts from grain or as lees fro' wine, doing this, hee is but part of myself e doth know iriteriour workings of the minde, as he doth unde'stand or is consciou' of those of his own minde. In truth a man's thorough opening thus to a fr'end all that his braine co'ceiveth, or th' soule is co'scious of, will oft save his reason. He will eat his heart in lonelie musi'gs, for oft a f eav'rous fire burneth in him, as werldes visions shifting and looming with wondrous swiftnesse on th' view, wooe th' minde from its labours to a restless tosse, as a shippe is beaten by inercilesse windes, or like to egg-shells crush'd togethe', broken to pieces, or soone made wrack. This cannot be otherwise, with one knowing that he is heire-apparent to this kingdome, outrag'd, wrong'd, dis- honour'd by one whose maternall love was not of so great strength as a desire for pow'r. In such a sonne, th' wisest our age thus f arr hath shewen, pardon, prithee, so u'seemly a phrase, I must speake it heere, th' mother should lose selfish vanitie and be' actuated only by a desire for his advancement. With Elizabeth it is not markt. A sonne can nere share in regall and governeing duties, but Essex at one time grew verie arrogant havi'g for a faire season our gay mere's hon- ourable and snstayning favour and the aydant interesse of our p6re. At that time I knew my owne claime to favour must, yeelded publikely, bee as truly yielded up afterwards. I make a boast in speaking so, yet, Kobt. shall c (Joins with some other work not yet deciphered.) 18 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK. 1600. (Some work precedes this, not yet deciphered.) * 'sh none. They consider that, our stage, of no suitable furniture no way bettered by half light [the] rivall of palmie G [rjeece or proud Rome when at th' pinacle of glorie. Mine had for a period lesse honour, as you without any doubt know quite wel in truth, not on accompte of the season or such well known or feigned rea- sons. You should assuredly also find al these, an' so th' true name these plays must, at some remote epoch of th' worldes great history, wear, when, my first Cypher letter having bene made an epistle of wishes my f aithefull fr'end must fulfil, they have bene published as the f ruict of many yeeres. But, at this writing, saf'ty is .as much enda'ger'd by accompting on such Cipher disguising, as at anie past daye, as a surly curre keepeth on with espionage or questiongs, to give us mad thoughts o' revenge, making it as difficile as may be thought, to escape his eyes. It must send Mr. Robert Cecil on one errand with many a sorrie, idle, and fruictles day to report to an instigator, wily as he, and fully as slie, but it must preclude the possible renowne I might some daie enjoy thro' these sev'rall playes as I manie times ere now have made cleere if, in time, a future fr'end, through most improbable but yet equally desired seeking, as my discyph'rere, into many subtily co'triv'd devices, cary not to completio' mine owne good work. For to decypher plays will much incite this 'venturer. Rare is such royall apparell upon so strange RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK. 19 inner storie, hid like a crime. Ay, so are many of the Cipher histories relationes of ill. Penne, or man his arte, doth coinma'd visions of th' dread, infamous actes dreamt of by fiends, yet mark, all this, amidst so truely brutall hor- rores, hath little that horrifies. Soe maskt, shut uppe, hid- den, is much dread evill. Of truth the nearnes at present doth now oppres hartes noe-wise affected, but it doth requite labour since 'tis soe true. Th' tardie epistle shal turne over an unknowne leaf of the historic of our land. Presto, mark what words this strange epistle thrust out. Th' booke herein hidd'n hath th' names in middest o' the other parts o' those writers suppos'd t' pro- duce th' plaies here mention'd. ]^one in fact were so created, having come from but a si'gle braine, that o' him not long herein, or amidst men that dar'd state an unpopular thing, shewne as such. Her Majesty surely put great weight upon th' vain and empty theories of th' seeres she most wish'd to have cast her horoscope. These made so great "hate in our hearts agay'st th' men who fed a most unwomanly notion renowne as Maiden Queene as to make us f eare our owne thoughts. Knowing well her hatred of th' desire o' my fathe', by one other sin, which tho' more dire indeed then others, work'd to give me th' presidence mine in right, made to bee cognisant of his duty, I have plac'd it i' Cyphre. F. B. FRANCIS BACON. A DECLARATION OF THE TREASONS ATTEMPTED AND COMMITTED BY THE EARL OF ESSEX. 1601. I write mildly of so terrible events, so galli'g memories of fifteene such woful, ay, such dre'dfull daies, 'tis limn'd i' fire on gloom of th' night or daye, Essex, thy murther. To sharper clamours, stifled cries or piteous moans are added, and my eares heare Robert's voyce, soe entreati'gly, opening sealed dores, hau'ting all dreemes, gre'ting everie daie that doth dawne on our home. As wee, wrong'd enf an's of a queene no wilful rebelion must raise (up) its pow'r upon, the heires, by law, to gold of most umbratike crowne, to pow'r wholly royale, lov'd by created men th' first wrecking th' surer honor and naturall empire put upon him, that knowledge and consequently a wider ki'gdome's rule thorow knowledge be gained also th' heyres of honor, next in ranke to soveraigne power, made effort to win a promise and assura'ce of this right, our royall aspirations received a dampening, a checke soe great, it co'vinc'd both, wee were hoping for advanceme't we might never attaine. It may bee, and some holde it excusation, my Lord, his ambition, received the spurre in th' failure of soe reasonable deina'ds. It is undeniable. I must say, to make these things as plain to all as it could bee if hee himselfe repeated these sentences, his originall planne much more inte'ded my plaine right the' his owne, but I refused to liste to th' 20 TREASONS BY THE EARL OF ESSEX. 2l charmer in th' ill-deserving, ill-succeedi'g designe, so that some such fiery rebellion on the Earle, his part, was perhaps onely a manifestation by waye of bragging shews or many flaunts of various intents, that not I, but my gayer brother was the darling, or the minion, of our people, specially of th' Citie. How it was overthrowne, dissprov'd, shatter'd, not Cipher epistles have related in this mark'd sort, for lacke of oppor- tune houres to work, but it may be read in the body o' the present booke. But least soe evill a rumour shall rise that this record should bee quite made waie with or bee after- wards supprest, every truth must bee in a frame, inside a verie greatly differing work. By mine unsuspected small devices, his story may be pre- serv'd, that my newer capitals seen plainlie, as anie eye that look'd but keenly must surely by this time have noted, lesse valew'd matter may co'vey. The capitalls of a part of some of th' stage plays are often thus twice servi'g these secret works. When this that is now bei'g discyph'red hath reach'd completion, I have this request to prefer that th' minor Cypher may bee us"'d. It proveth that a little of one's reward, derived as such bee from gaining information, may revive one's courage soe that hee do his longer taskes with pleasure. Whilst I write all, I se most cleerly not my owne folly but my sinful weaknesse like as it must in the sight of one Divine and Supream Judge of all creatures apeare. In the blindnesse and confusio', th' moment's question loom'd up before me and blotted out love, honor, all th' joyes of the past or dreames of farre offe fame. Th^t briefe duration much outvalewed Eternity itselfe. It is sad to looke back, yet sadder to co'template th' future. All my late brothe' 22 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. hazarded will not so much linger, or it may be said, have soe much waight in such thoughts, as my owne evermore accu- mulating and abundant evidence o' th' unhappy effects of his rash doings. Her Majestie's regard and favour was by noe means ours on account of our secret claime. It should rather bee noted as a mark'd law, I may say without timorousnesse, the onely shews of th' affection shee might be suppos'd to manifest, sham'd us that they were understood. Time to tell whence this came, doth serve, as I am desirous that th' curse o' this realme hid so long, be made clear, yet shal I use. a most blinde waie, and oft make sudden, unwisht, unprofit- able change to allowe a seeker t' thinke it somethi'g of almost as smal worth as th' wo'derfully curious devices wee have heard it said much occupied people of a'cient ^Egipt. But the device, soe well is it manag'd, doth holde as in imperish- able amber the story given in this way. Que. Elizabeth and Robert, th' Earle o' Leicester, were join'd lawfully in wedlock before my comming. Essex w r ho was also sonne unto Her Ma. and a brother bred bone, bloud, sinnewes as my owne was sentenc'd to death by that mere and my owne counsel. Yet this truth must at some time be knowne ; had not I thus allow'd myself e to give some countenance to th' arraignement, a subsequent triall, as wel as th' sentence, I must have lost th' life that I held so price- lesse. Life to a schola' is but a pawne for mankind. FR. B. LONDON PRODIGAL. 33 SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS. LONDON PRODIGAL. 1605. Do not pause for a moment to delve 'mid Cyphers where rules put forth in the-Bi-literall possesse whatever directions you might need. It is not far off or undisciph'red drama hath such a proof, and methods that in manie ways shew all our subtile intri- cate inventions, but such as doth have on th' severall partes printed one or other of the various pen-names used. Not vEschylus, not Plautus, must be studied in this work, and, as hath bene in Ciphars, many times over said to our assistant, th' storie this worke co'taineth cannot in anie othe' Cypher be seen in its full, naked, unblushing truth, for in some plays we blench'd somewhat, this story our love staieth soe long upon. In each great part that wee shal bring into the world of reading or thinking men, from this to our finis, th' tale may be fou'd, th' saddest in anie or all th' known languages, the historic of th' Earle of Essex, our brother. It is scat- t'red with a lavish hand through th' manie and varied plays which, in divers names are published, fro' th' numerous un- sign'd yet mark'd or sealed manuscript, and, as time may suit, are to be deciph'red, and, J after our owne part have most o' th' secrets fitly hidd'n there, so brought out that men o' th' future ^Rones must know our birth and parentage. When one, decypheri'g so many different workes, shal write a story oft as th' same shall appeare, woe worth the hour! None can attempt history soe reiterate, and this, decyphr'd, must straight bee tried, and, as gold that shall 24 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. adorne Solomon, his temple, have all which can dim its glory taken forth. It shall be neyther more nor lesse tho' so tried ; our designe, from th' mome't it was conceiv'd, being to put great and importa't secrets in everie part o' these works, that a decipherer shall not by any fault or omissio' o' ours, come short of manie wonderful truths. Make this such entire and suitable history, none, who liking ourpen greatly rejoice to see this work, shal find it d'ficiente eene by a word. FR. BACON. FRANCIS BACON. OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 1605. Take, reade! it is sore necessity that doth force me to this very dry and also quite difficile Cyphar as a way or methode of transmission. Seldome (though occasionalie in th' bright but infrequent verse) lines of a published booke may artfullie come, plact in my Cypher amongst new matter; for all this bi-literall may do, shall be as an helpe and aide to my former: one must cary on the other. Therefore as you cease to be attracted by one, you may folow another, but I am most assur'd that my long labor, spent making such small devices with this scope, end, and ayme, when completed and put out, boldlie given forth under my signature or in some other name, shall have full recompence of reward. As one findeth that which doth already exist in his minde a pre-notion more quickly, and will more. readily arrive at th' goal when he doth keepe his eyes on it, soe shall my discipherer make farre more advancement, keep- ing steadilie on with my aide, nere turning aside with a wand'ring eye. It is for his advantage or benefitt, also, that th' lines that I have mention'd shall occasionally come to view; th' prenotion being thus form'd greatly asisteth many times, and doth ayde th' eye to see th' symboles (signes) to shew my discyphere' works of my penne in concealme't, or rather in masque or disguise. 25 26 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. My stage plaies have all beene disguis'd (to wit, many in Greene's name or in Peele's, Marlowe's, a fewe, such as th' Queene's Masques and others of this kind published for me by Jonson, my friend and co-worker) since I relate a secret history therein, a storie of so sterne and tragick qualitie, it illie suited my lighte' verse, in the earlier workes. It surely must proove that they are the work of my hand when you, observing this varietie of forms, find out th' Cyphar soe devis'd to ayde a decipherer in the study of th' interiour historic. By the use of this Bi-literall Cypha', or the highest degree of Cyphar writing, I may give not meerely simple plain rules for such matters, but also some hint that may bee of use, or an exa'ple. It is fame that all seeke, and surelie so great renowne can come in noe gthe' studie: if therefore you commence th' study, the lawrell must at some future day be bestow'd upon you, for your interesse must dayly grow and none could winne you awaye. On mee it doth impose a great labour, but the part you shall doe shall be much lighter. It is many daies, (ay, best part o' a yeare now) th' worke that is before you hath beene in hand: noe wonder, then, that 'tis a weari- som' taske and somewhat drie. It would weary the veriest clod: whe', however, it shal be completed, my joy will exceede th' past wearinesse. Soone it can but be scene that I have undertaken great labour in behalfe of men for the furder advancing of knowledge, awaiting a time when it shall bee in everie language as in our owne, but that this may be kept to other ages we may use th' Latine, since our f eare is often excited by th' want we note in this, th' English, of a degree IN ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 27 or measure of stability or of uniformity of its construc- tion; and also many changes in usage shewe it is wise to use for a monument, marble more lasting. Still, so great is our love for our mother-tongue, wee have at times made a free use, both of such words as are consid'r'd antique, and of stile, theme, and innermost spiritt of an earlier day, especially in th' Edmunde Spenser poemes that are modelled on Chaucer; yet th' antique or ancient is lightly woven, as you no doubte have before this noted, not onlie with expressions that are both coinon and unquestionablie English of our own daie, but fre- quently with French wordes, for the Norman-French William the Conqueror introduced left its traces. Beside nought is furder from my thoughts then a wish to lop this off, but, on the contrarie, a desire to graff more thoroughly on our language, cutts that will make th' tree more delightsome and its fruits more rare, hath oft led me to doe the engraffing for my proper selfe. Indeed not th' gemmes of their language alone, but the Jewells of their crowne are rightfullie England, her in- heritance. Furthermore many words commonlie used in different parts of England, strike th' eare of citizens of townes in southerne England like a foreine tongue, combinations whereof make all this varietie, that I finde ofttimes melo- dious, againe lesse pleasing, like the commingling of coun 1 trey fruites at a market faire. Yet you, seing the reason, approve, no doubte, th' efforts I make in the cause of all students of a language and learning, that is yet in its boy- hood, so to .speake. The inwarde motive is noble, onlie as it cometh from a pure love of the people, without a wrong or selfish thought 28 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. of my right to rule this kingdome as her supreme gov- ernour: but this deathlesse, inalienable, roiall right doth exist. Queen Elizabeth, the late soveraigne, wedded, secretly, th' Earle, my father, at th' Tower of London, and after- wards at th' house of Lord P this ceremony was re- peated, but not with any of the pompe and ceremonie that sorteth wel with queenly espousals, yet with a sufficient number of witnesses. I, therfore, being the first borne sonne of this union should sit upon the throne, ruling the people over whom the Supreame Soveraigne doth shewe my right, as hath beene said, whilst suff'ring others to keepe the royall power. A foxe, seen oft at our Court in th' forme and outward appearance of a man named Robert Cecill the hunch- back must answer at th' Divine Araignment to my charge agains' him, for he despoyled me ruthlessly. Th' Queene, my mother, might, in course of events which fol- low'd their revelations regarding my birth and parentage, without doubt having some naturall pride in her offspring, often have shewne us no little attenntion had not the crafty foxe aroused in that tiger-like spiritt th' jealousy that did so tormente the Queene, [that] neyther night nor day brought her respite from such suggestio's about my hope that I might bea England's king. He told her my endeavours were all for sov'raigntie and honour, a perpetuall intending and constant hourlie prac- tising some one thing urged or imposed, it should seeme, by that absolute, inhere't, honorably deriv'd necessitie of a conservation of roiall dignity. IN ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 29 He bade her observe the strength, breadth and com- passe, at an early age, of th' intellectual powers I displaied, and ev'n deprecated th' gen'rous disposition or graces of speech which wonne me manie friends, implying that my gifts would thus, no doubt, uproot her, because I would, like Absalom, steale awaie th' people's harts and usurp the throne whilst my mother was yet alive. The terrors he conjur'd up could by no art be exorcis'd, and many trialls came therefrom, not alone in youth, but in my earlie manhoode. Neyther one supposed th' horror each dreem'd of th' last of the mindes waking notiones and th' one that, draw- ing th' darke curtaines as night departed, had enter'd with th' light each morning would take forme of th' other offshoot, th' favourite heyre, Robert at th' time known onelie by th' borowed cognomen of Devereux, Earl of Essex: yet it indeed 'was hee, who, as though th' booke of their suppositions or feares was to him the one that con- tain'd easie lessons in treason, at last let loose th' dragon. For a short space, this rebellion of th' Earl of Essex hardly shewed as such, having beene by the counsel of his friends, kept wisely backe when he purpos'd landing a large bodie of souldiers at Milford Haven, expecting many to joyn his forces as they mov'd on towards London, and contenting th' proude soule, swelling to bursting in his breast, by taking forth two-hundred of his choycest spirits to give a show of greatnesse and aide him in th' secret projects that hee was hatching. His planne was nothing lesse than [a] mad designe to take possession of th ' Court; his assistants, Davers, Davis and Blount, being well known, might e'ter unchal- lenged with a sufficient number of aydes that, scatter'd about, should likewise cause no remarke; at th' given signe 30 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. they were to seize, without confusion, th' halberdes of the guard, take stand, each in his previously assign'd place one to holde the guard- chamber, one to possess himself of the hall, and a third to keepe watch at the gate whilst Essex should enter th' presence chamber and virtually get possession of the Queene, under the pretense of complain- ing that certaine of her advisers and informers were his mortall enemies, and, maki'g bold to desire Her Ma. should bring these men to triall, should promptly name some who were neither wanting in good favor nor deficient in courage to occupy the places so made vacant. Then was Parliament to be call'd to make concessions, and the citty itselfe to be under his controle. .This planne knowne perfectlie to Southampton, the chiefe of his frends, manifestely suited that aventurous assistant well, but it failed in execution as we know. The unwonted stir in all quarters, while Earle Kobert had th' measure of liberty he enjoied, made Her Majesty watchful; also the assembling from every county of Eng- land of noteworthie men, nobilitie and militarie being chiefely observ'd not, however, throngs but slowe gath- erings as though one drewe afterwards another escapt not her eie, whereuppn the guards at Court were made aware o' danger and th' numbe' doubled. Report therof, coming to the Earle of Essex, greatly excited his feares least his plot had beene discovered, and hasten'd the end. From th' first, my lord of Essex, whose whole thought clung to his originall planne of seizing th' Tower, rely- ing upon th' inspector of the ordinance who had vowed to surrender the keyes, and afterward, from such point o' vantage surprising and possesing th' cittie, attempted to whine th' favour of the Protestants overtlie, and of his IN ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING. 81 Jesuit acquaintances covertly, promising the latter, I am trulie informed, that he would restore the Catholick faith, and, as his innermost being was mightily sway'd by imag- ination, I thinke he persuaded himselfe that hold on the people was sufficient to carry out these simpler plots, whilst hee doubted Her Majestie's graces would under- mine a hope built on th' faith and affection of th' gentle- men that were among his companie; therefore hee deter- min'd that a surprise would be attended by too many dangers, and trusting greatly to the love of th' citizens, fell backe on their ayde. 'Twas th' Candlemas term ere his plan was soe farre digested. His liberty being little restrain'd he had ample and constant meanes of carrying on his plans. As he was not confin'd to his chambers at Court, it was necessary to send for him when he should appear before the councill, but when this was done my lord boldly refus'd to go, and straightwaye disseminated a rumour that in going thither in the evening he was set upon and nearly drowned by Cobham, th' tool of Sir Walter Ealeigh, and Sir Walter himselfe. But unfortunatelie this tale was frequently varied by th' Earle, and at one time hee did give out that four Jesuits had made an attack f oure daies before, for the same or similar purpose. This weaken'd his case so much that but few came at his call when he went forth bidding them arm and fight for their king. In truth he saw not many people out, for Her Majesty tooke the wise precaution to give order: "Arm and waite in readinesse within for th' call." 32 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. But with him were now not lesse than fifteen score of the principall gentlemen, a company well chosen, contain- ing on th' part of th' nobility, Earls of Routland and of Southampton, Lords Sandes, Mountegle, with others; be- hind him he had left Earle of Worcester, Lord Keeper, Lord Chief Justice, Her Majestie's Comptroller, and beare' of th' Seal, who had come to meet Earle Robert, themselves enduring imprisonment in his house, but they remain'd not long in duresse. Th' tour of th' citty being well nigh made, my lord's party met Her Ma.'s troopes led forth by th' Admirall. Blount was wounded, Tracy kill'd; then my lord return'd to his owne house, and baricading the two great gates, defended th' house on all sides, but it aval'd not long. First hee begg'd for th' safe co'duct of th' Countesse, then surrendered. SIR F. SHAKESPEARE QUARTO. KING LEAR. 1608. Xo one in whose spirit is no love of pow'r, will know th' nature of th' flame i' my wilcle spirit. Th' death of recent date, speaki'g in a comparative way, of my mother Queene Elizabeth, should put me upon th' royal chayre of England, because, borne 'in lawfull wedlocke, I am by th' rights of birth, true sov'raigne. I aske only justice, but Divine, ay, God-giv'n rig't. Honor that had by precedent usage and by lawe long apper- tayn'd unto the first borne sonne to the sovereigne, was denied me in -the life-time and in direct pursuance and fulfil- ment of the wishes of Her Majesty, my mother. Noe fame could holde up brighte' temptation than this that hath most oft beene refus'd power, and in tra'sf erring our scepter to the King of Scotland, Her Majesty's intention and wish was to put it where it could not be raught by anie outstretcht arme. Beating in my braine with this injustice, which the yeares can have no soothing influence upon, there is a memorie of that fate, by fnrre more sad, cruell, and unjust then this, met by rash Robert. It must be acknowledged that th' crime for which hee sufer'd could not any wise be palliate by his past services or bravery, but, had a signet-ring that hee did desire to present reacht Elizabeth, Robert, th' sonne madly lov'd, might have receiv'd a roiale remitment, inasmuch as it was her well- known seal and token. This did faile, however, to act as peace-maker as it came not, for good reason, to Her Majesty's 33 34 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. eyes. Dredf ul was her passion of anger and her bootlesse sor- row of hart on finding that our proud hero had so stoopt, and was not met. As hee had beene led to bel'eve he had but to send the ring to her and th' same would at a mome't's warni'g bring rescue or reliefe, he reived vainly, alas! on this promis'd ayde. A bitter griefe it was, not the lesse because he was farrc dearer, as you know, tho' but a younger child, then one as worthy her love who is th' heire. Tt shal bee well depicted in a play and you wil be in- structted to discypher it fully, as soone as suits with such duty as e'grosseth you now. Keepe at the great Cipher ev'n when th' plays bee ended. SIR FRA. B. KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 1608. Stay in this work to get your first directe rule relating to lines or verses which were much employ'd at the begiimiiii>- as aydes in the work that had not advanced farre towards co'pletio'. Vergill, with all of my most cherisht, or revered, of poets, Homer, I have made to serve my designe as there could hardly so much bee divided, mangled, cut, hewen or lopt if noe penne save my unskilled quill for I was yet youthfull prepar'd i'teriour material!. This new contr'vance also lack'd some guide or hand in order to shew th' way, meandering in tortuous farre-reach- ing course, in all bookes that I designed, and at that time I had great feare that no sharp eye would note aught th' key. or such name-wordes, purport. How to disguise, but at th' same instant give unmistakable, manifold instructio's was a grave but very constant quaere with me that with manie IN KING HENRY THE FIFTH. 35 excellent plannes and by diverse repeated lesser experiments in time slowly brought the desir'd but dificile responde't contrivance an inge'ious waie by Avhich lines and frag- ments of scattYd storys are collected as in their original forme. Scholars of great note have this : When aniething new hath bin shewn them, they recognise in it that which they alreadie know, rathe' then they will discover that they know not; ther'fore I have emploied these translations for the benefit of such. FRA'CIS FIRST OF ENGLAND. PERICLES. 1609. This is simply another portio' greatly occupying a plaie too poor to work to our true or permanent renoune. In it were these shames, (foul horrors we fain leave unfinisht while fairer portions may be found) that are base as aught th 7 rude countrey hindes bee suppos'd to thinke as fit for creatures human as for any. As indeede this horror wee give, merely doth repeat th' horror to be found, this is our argumen 7 ; none will aske another, for a storie paining as 'tis told hath beene a weary eno'gh relation without any uselesse third and fourth time telling. It may win true acclamations, real or just applause, or greater blame ; which it may be is not knowne at present, but wee, an historian, must needes write that which is true if it bee good or nere so ill, and must hold a glasse up to others that none may tainf with a slime like this th' fountayn of his life. 36 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. But doe not forget to seeke for your Cipher poemes such as th' two poemes of noble Homer, his most worthy verse, and those great Virgill gave manki'de, also our Pastorale of the Christ, with a fantasy, and sev'rall that have lesse im- porte but are stil worthy, meth ought, to keep, for the excel- lence sustayn'd through poems now used only in workes that are written in Cypher shal aide one when these shall be brought forth t' shew their authorship. But work must not cease with poems herein nam'd, so much time hath beene given to th' writing o' diverse plai's, nine o' which shall have a time of dark dayes without a future, if such an eager seeker be never scene as is visible to th' eye of our minde. Howere, great is our co'fidence in some name as well knowne to Him who governeth al as is our name, and it shall be united to ours at last as qur writings shall be brought t' th' light so that one may sec. Heede ! These are words of FRANCIS BACON, KT. HAMLET. 1611. Our new play hath breasted th' wave so galantlie, so brightly, a thrill runneth thorow minde, spirit, and heart, and great joy beateth in artyries even as in our earliest youth. To man, his sight, forthwith, our secretes were submit- ted, yet no eie but ours seeth our interior history hid not lesse in workes such as th' one now in your emploie, then in many much more worthie of note, through a timely atten- tion to most of old Atlas, his cheefe slips, or errata. This should not be understood to bee anie Atlas to whom in the antient time was committed th' waight of our world, but IN HAMLET. 37 one wee designate thus foolishly, since it doth entirely de- pende on him to superintend his own worke of printing, the correction of so much matter co'taini'g bi-form'd letters havi'g bin all we could attempt. Some things in a follow- ing editio' may be altered but wee depende on our decy- ph'rer, as in recognition of the merits of our stage-plaies, at some day, not verie long after our history hath bin decy- ph'red, to collect these all into one tome. It shall bee noted in truth that some greatly exceede their fellowes in worth, and it is easily explained. Th' theame varied, yet was al waves a subject well selected to convey the secret message. Also the plays being given out as tho'gh written by the actor to whom each had bin consign'd, turiie one's genius suddainelie many times to suit th' new man. In this actour that wee now emploie, is a wittie veyne different from any formerly employ'd. In truth it suiteth well with a native spirrit, humourous and grave by turnes in ourselfe. Therefore when wee create a part that hath him in minde, th' play is corresponsively better therefor. It must bee evident to our friend and co-worker that these later dramas are superior in nearlie all those scenes where our genius hath swaie : these Cyphers do much limit th' expres- sions of th' exteriour part and when narration predominates, genius f eeleth the rein that doth governe th' movements and th' course. With feelings, reveries, and contemplation, it is quite dif- ferent, and the interiour story aydeth in th' production of these exteriour plays when they have sway. FRANCIS BACON (RIGHTFUL) R. 38 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. , TITUS ANDRONICUS. 1611. Few thought an adoptive heire and suppos'd sonne to Sir .Nicholas Bacon, wrote stage-plays and it was to make onely our decypherer know of our new drama that we publish t ought, without the so-call'd author's name upon the page. But knowing also that truth crushed by its one strong enemy, errour, commeth up in fresher vigour, whilst truth in obscurity hidden, oft remai'eth long enwrapt from sight, most playes wee had sent out before our new one, had the stile or name of an actor he who wil put it foorth but anon the one who bringeth it on our stage. Rules for that other Cipher, of thing' found at the present day best for interiour stage-plays, in some degree like and rivaling th' diverse exteriour drapings, will bee giv'n soone, as we wish th' storie in that way most ple'santlie concealed, disciphered and made cleere to all upon the earth. So great wrongs must bee sette right, here, else posterity may not bee richer, as shall concerne knowledge of English historic of our times, then most of this dull generation. Very few know, to-day, th' injustice done us by the late Queene of our most powerful! realme Elizabeth of Eng- land for she was our owne royale mere, the lawfull wedded wife to the Earle of Leister (Leicester, as oft it will be found) who was our true sire, and we the heire to crowne and throne ought to wield her scepter, but were barr'd the suc- cession. We should, like other princes, the first that blest that royale union, succeed the Queene-mother to soveraig'ty, but punished through the rashnesse of our late artfull brother this right shal bee denied us fore-ver. IN TITUS ANDRONICUS. 3 We can win bayes, lawrell gyrlo'ds and renowme, and we can raise a shining monumente which shall not suffer the hardly wonne, supremest, crowning glory to fade. ]S;ere shal the lofty and wide-reaching honor that such workes as these bro't us bee lost whilst there may even a work bee found to afforde opportunity to actors who may play those powerful parts which are now soe greeted with great ac- clayme to winne such name and honours as Wil Shake- speare, o' th' Glob' so well did win, acting our dramas. That honor mu?t to earth's finale morn yet folow him, but al fame won from th' authorshippe (suppos'd) of our plays must, in good time, after our owne worke, putting awav its vavling disguises, standeth forth as you onlv know i t. O / it, bee veelded to us. F. EDMUND SPENSER. SHEPHEARDS CALENDER. 1611. Two parts of my booke, which I set before my last works, may be placed behind everie othe' as you arrange the whole to decypher your instruction. I speake of Pros- opo. and th' Faerie Qu. but the other parts must stand thus, as here you finde them. Let all the remainder bee work'd first, as they ayde in the writing of my brother's history which was begunne in the second part, or book, that doth commence one of my great workes of Scyence and, continued in the little work stiled The Wisdome of the Auncients, and taken up in this poeticall worke that is re- published for this purpose, maketh a compleat abridge- ment of the history given fully in the great Cypher. As hath bin said, many importante papers having beene destroyed by the Earle, many fe'tures of their plot were never brought out, E. Essex himselfe saying, "They shall be put where they cannot tell tales." But evidence was sufficient to prove th' guilt both of my brother and Earl of Southampton. Essex, his plea, that hee was not present at the consultation that five treason-plotting noblemen helde at Drury-house, ayded him not a whit, for his asso- ciates incriminated him, and such of their writings as had not beene destroyed were in the handwriting of my lord of Essex, as was shewne at the triall, and they were acting as hee directed. How like some nightes horrible vision this triall and awful torture before his execution must ever be to me, 40 IN SHEPHBARDS CALENDER. 41 none but the Judge that sitteth aloft can justlie knowe. All the scenes come before me like the acted play, but how to put it awaye, or drive it back to Avernus, its home, O, who can divulge that greatest o' secrets? None. This thought onely is fraught with a measureles pain, that all my power can doe nought for his memorie. If hee had but heard my advice, but he heeded his owne unrea- soni'g wishes only. Whilst succeeding barely in this at- tempt to so much as winne a hearing, yet did th' true love I bore soe moove mee that, from my care o' Essex, I tooke a charge that greatly imperil'd my personall preten- sions, as I did occupy my utmost witt, and even aventure my own fortunes with th' Queene, to attempte th' reinte- gration of his. This, however, though it had th' will to doe Essex great benefitt, was truely little lesse harmful unto my lord Kob- ert of Ewe, I may now admit, then to me. Queene Eliza- beth, my mother, yeelded nought upon the questio', tho' 'tis knowne commonly that persuasions swayed her often, even when object seem'd as armed agaynst it. Yet this dispo- sition was not paramount when I made my plea in behalf of him, whom loving trust haplie kept in checke when a word of dubitancie would pricke as with a spurre. Thus the breach between my haplesse kinne widen'd and nothing may close it, for a tombe doth silence both. Vantages acompted great, simply as th' uncertaine dreames or visiones of night seeme to us in after time. Ended now is my great desire to sit in British throne. Larger worke doth invite my hand then majestie doth offer: to wield th' penne doth ever require a greater minde then to sway the royall scepter. Ay, I cry to th' Heavenly Ayde, ruling ore all, ever to keepe my soule thus humbled aiid contente. 42 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. O Source infinite of light, ere Time in existence was. save in Thy creative plan, all this tragedy unfolded before Thee. A night of Stygian darknesse encloseth us. My hope, bannish'd to realmes above, taketh its flight through th' clear aire of the Scyences, unto bright daye with Thy- selfe. As Thou didst conceale Thy lawes in thick clouds, enfolde them in shades of mysterious gloom, Thou didst infuse from Thy spirit a desire to put the day's glad worke, th' evening's thought, and midnight's meditation to finde out their secret workings. Only thtis can I banish from my thoughts my beloved brother's untimely cutting off, and my wrongfull part in his tryall. O, had I then one thought of th' great change his death would cause, how life's worth would shrinke, and this world's litle golden sunshine be but as collied night's swifte lightning, this had never come as a hound of th' hunt to my idle thoughts. As it is now, the true meaning of events is loste to me. The heavens declare God's glory, but Scripture doth speak nowhere of His will being thus declared. In order to undertake this, our mindes must bee inclin'd to His in- struc'ion. This abridgement is now ended. By the ayde of the notes given, work out this history, for if this be lost my history will also bee unfmisht, so close my path lay by his. This you duelie have noted. Besides our secret storie no correcte one shall be left,, as Her Ma., takeing a liking, early, of my writings upon a part of late negotiations, required a species of justification o' th' course, (which none surely shew'd) carried it indeed so as in man, his sight, Robert is helde abhorr'd; but I th r clerk, did the writing, or acted as Secretary, th j report fully satiating everyone. IN FAERIE QUEENE. 43 FAERIE QUEENE. 1613. Some want-wit, may be, desiring note, if it uproot all love's fibres, would have welcom'd such a taske; so truly, did not I, for to me it grew to be more indirect, less honor- able, so to put forward my dear lord, his misdeedes, at Queene E 's beheast though I did it but at her expres commands, and always as a Secretary to Her Majesty. Verilie scarce a worde remained unaltered. The language, even, was not wholly such as I wish'd to use, as all was subjected to her painefully searching scrutiny, and manie a sentence did her weake fear, her dread of execratio', make her weigh and alter whilst her jealousie cull'd out my every name of th' noblemen who were charged with a lack o' loyalty, and th' stile that I emploied when I said ought concerning Robert. For my honorable and just stile of Earl of Essex and of Ewe, as "my lord of Essex" and "my lord Robt.", on many a page similar names and tearmes, Her Ma. would suggest that it be meerly plaine Essex, or in place of that "th' late Earle of Essex." It approov'd itself to her in such degre, that my first bookes were suddainely and peremptorylie supprest and (and) printed according to commande, de novo, thereby only th' sure proofe giving of a judgement sharp on his lordshipp's illes, but subtile concearning her owne; and assuredly th' world may see that though she might be excelent in great matters she was exquisite i' the lesser. So much did some earlie worke on this noblest among noble youthes, our brothe' Robt. annoy th' Queene, we manifested a willingnesse to suppresse it, and because of soe doing were at some losse.to continue our work. To 44 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. this secret device, or invention, the world doth owe most gracious thanks for a ]arge part of his historic. To Sir Clyomen and S. Clamydes, you must conjoyne Orlando Furioso, and Alphonsu' King of Arragon, then Descensus A , Order of the Garter, The Battayle of Alca- zar; add next David and Bathseba, and Edward. For this earlie work nothing from othe' parts neede be taken, as we made an attempt about that time to put th' work into lesse space, in order to make your task of writing th' secret history easy, feari'g my labours' losse if broadly scattered, as it was of a character more worth to me then to my times, and not of a secret nature after page three, or at most two o' th' first leav's, regarding Robert's true name, and certaine matters relative to his adoption into the kind family whose name that by which all England knew him, excepting th' principall actors that played well their parts i' th' drama noe staine had touched untill this blot of treason fell on it. He was one of the adventurous, valiant, bolde spirits not easilie hidden in any place, and it was not, therfore, unseemly that the sonne of one so widely and favourably reputed as th' first Earl of Essex, made so bolde [as] to wooe th' goddesse Fortune at Court. J^one knewe so trulie as Elizabeth, our proude unbending, roial mere, the cause of manie of our willfull Essex' orebearing ways. Th' knowledge that he was princely in truth, despite pretense, and, whilst at Court his nominall place and standi'g was onelie th' Courtier's, his rightful stile was Prince, th' Queene's lawful sonne, warm'd into life and action the ambitions that were his inherited, primal in- stinct. How far he ventured upon this royall prerogative, this IN FAERIE QUEENE. 45 propper right of favour and advancement, historic plainlie relateth, yet onelie in our Cipher-historic may scales be oped that guarde the secrets hid long in silente halles: for 'tis said, walles have ears, none saye walles have a tongue, trulie, none who doe visit Courts. Daring, indeed, the pen that can write a royal story, tho' it be in Cyphe', many times as daring he that doth this task openlie. There bee fewe who will attempt it, and it shal not be by their pens we shal finde out the result dead men tel no tales. It is clear to my minde, the Earle, our father, hoped that his darling wishes relating to a declared heir to suc- ceede to the throne, were neare realization, as hee observed the advance in marked respect or favour th' younger sonne made from day to daie. Our vayne mother lov'd his bolde manner and free spirit, his sodaine quarrells, jealousy in soule o' honour, strength in love. She saw in him her- owne spirit in masculine moulde, full of youth and beauty. To her, fate, a turn of Fortune's wheel, had given th' gift of royal tie, and th' throne of mighty England was hers; to beestow on whom her heart mought choose. Little won- der that false fancy sway'd where better judgement, in- fected, had loste power, and that impatient Lo. L won nought in that struggle but feare and distresse. My just claime he set aside liking better their valiant lion-heart thus they teann'd him howsoever unmeete, or unjust. A desire t' foyl yeeldes luride light on everything ther- after: his one wish ever gleaming brightlie through the clouds of pretense, and I receive my Qu from that alter'd appearance of th' skies, yet doe not trulie give over, as he doth suppose. "Not withstanding overtly any of my ill- advised sire's aspiring purposes, or planns, for often shall dissimulation, though a faint kind of wisdome prove verie 46 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. good policie, yet, in th' secrecy o' my owne bosome, I do still hold to th' faith that my heart has never wholly sur- rendered, that truth shall come out from error and my head be crowned ere my line o' life be sev'red. How many times this bright dreeme hath found lodge- ment in my braine ! how manie more hath it beene shunn'd as an influence of Pluto's darke realme! It were impos- sible, I am assur'd, since witnesses to th' marriage and to my birth (after a proper length of time) are dead, and the papers certifying their preasence being destroyed, yet is it a wrong that will rise, and a crye that none can hush. Strive as I may, it is onely driv'n from my braine by th' unceasing tossing of this sea of laboring cogitations for th' advancement of learning. Ofte driven as 'twere with sodaine wind or tide, its waves strike 'gainst the very vault of th' heav'ns and breake in uselesse wreaths o' bubbling froth. Think not in your inmost heart that you or any others whom you would put in the same case'as ours, would mani- fest a wiser or calmer minde, because none who doe not stand, as I stood, on Pisgah's very height, do dream of the faire beautie of that land that I have seene. England as she might bee if wisely govern'd, is th' dream or beautious vision I see from Mt. Pisgah's loftie toppe. It is noe improper exaltation of self e, when one, feeling in heart and brayne the divine giftes that fit him for his Princely destiny or that rightly inherited albeit wronglie withholden soveraignty in true, noble, kingly spirit doth looke for pow'r, not for th' sake of exercising that gift, but that he may uplifte his people from th' depth of misery into which they constantlie sink, to th' firm rocke of such mode of life as would change cries to songs of praise. IN FAERIE QUEENE. 47 You will, ere your work be compleated, see either in my word method of imparting these inner epistles, or writ soe plaine that none shall fayl to comprehende a form or designe of a modell land, as anie might be with propper governours; but you must tarrie for it a space, inasmuch as it existeth, as yet, but in my thought. However I say not, wait idly till we carrie this to its full perfection, since a great part remaineth now to work out from these various Cyphers that I here use, and, friend, to cease labour now would truly be to lose that history that I have desired above every other work to write, that a com- ing people in th' future, having read the false declaratio's made in writings given then, blinding eyes to deepe, justlie censured wrongs, might understand motives of action as well as the true historic of events. And you will soone observe that I have told my owne sad story with the same openheartednesse as that which revealeth other secrets for my verie soule is open'd that th' world might looke on it and reade of my hard lot, having to choose between life, libertie of the citty, freedom, and a promise of future recognizance of service, and th' same for my dear Robert. Eeasoning that no pow'r should prevaile with her Ma- jestie, I felt how ill-advis'd a sacrifice o' life and its enchantments must be, that surely would be of no efect. % I have spirit of sufficient fire, I thinke, for such hap as is probable to my station, not enough to support me in tor- ture, nor to lead forth anie enfans perdus. Seeing th' hopeless state treason-loving Essex was in, I knew I had but to continue my plea, urging that forgivenes might bee accorded to Essex, to close th' last egresse from a cell, or lead to th' gallowes. Thus was my way hedged about, thick clouds hid th' path from sight. 48 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. In the last stanzo is a directio' to th' next following works to co'tinu the storie thus begun. It must be writte' before any othe' for 'tis most co'plete, and interio' writings, while pleasing when discypher'd, are somewhat wearying. As work of anie kind was meant by Him that impos'd the curse on sinfull man to be ad correctionem et non ad ruinam, it will benefit us both. A meete punishment, trulie, and one that shall in turne make the very curse bless'd, and everie man most envyde who can say as doth your attentive friend : This hand will accompli'h a worthie labour for future use, which shal bee the monument where th' whole of these studies are shewn forth and deficiencies enumerated. Since it doth more ayde mankind to point out what is lacking then to prepare all your woorke so that nothing shall longer remaine to bee found out, for it is man's delight to find out mysteries, but th' glory of God to conceale some matters, with a preside't of highest, ineas- urelesse, supreme wisdome, is a divine modell for man to followe. Nor do we find that Holie Scripture hath any prohibition against an acquisition of knowledge intended only for th' world's betterment. He who is not against us it is noe lesse true to-day then it was sixteene centuries ago, so that I say, nor shall it aske anie further explanation, noe man's hand is better employ'd then his who searcheth ^out a hidden matter. If you continue this worke to the end you shall have reward sufficient I think to advantage you as well as ad- vaunce my invention, and make knowne my historic for th' better satisfaction of those who see deeps in Engla'd's historic that have th' blood of her sonnes therein. A Queene's edict, if not her yron hand, killed such a man that for valour and manly spirit was unequal'd. FR. BACON. BEN JONSON". 1616 FOLIO. ENTERTAYNMENT. Keepe many keies and joyning wordes in minde, that are now employ'd in my Homer, for your writing will pro- ceed faster if you have many well memorized when you decypher this work. Allthough th' parts are small, and a great manie workes containe the scatter'd portions, it hath th' joy and somewhat th' excitement of sport even that of th' chase in pursuite, therefore doe not fall out by th' waye nor allow anie to passe by you, as it doth surely ope to you a path as wondrous as anie that doth winde through th' fields of knowledge, to that divine hight, in view long ere th' feete may attayn unto it, upon Olympus' toppe. Oft doe I muse upon th' ultimity of this Ciphe', and aske whose hand may compleate it. It may be that of some man whom dayly I have seene going to and fro in th' martes and halls of th' Citty. It may, perchance, be some sharpe spye of th' court whose zeale would be my death. But my hope is, that not th' yeares but th' ages shall unf olde my secret historic, and reverse a decision that hath beene given respecting th' Queene, my mothe', my owne birth-right, and many othe' things of interesse, but of ev'n so small valew as that, did they rather concearn th' com- monalty then royal persons, they might not bee read. However, admiration of greatnesse is naturall. Ev'n the foibles of a Queene would please at so remote a day. BACON. 49 50 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. KINGS CORONATION. This work is also Bacon's, intended meerelie to ayde in producing some parts of the translations. Some have beene found repeated too often, yet as the partes should not bee lost, this Entertaynment was devis'd that all should appear in convenient order. Bee not too hasty in condemni'g this meanes unto my end, for manie were th' devices, much th' patience, and long th' houres giv'n to the work, so that very little might bee left unfinish't should my summons come unexpectedly at midnight, at noon, or at morning. It was done with an eie single to your best good. Here is no strife after excellence of stile and diction, but an effort in your owne interesse. You should joyne to this Entertaynment, A Panegyre, and all the following Entertaynments in their natural! order. B. A PANEGYRE. There is more Virgil here, but a part is Homer. Marke keyes. BACON. MASQUES. In Essay Of Masques and Tryumphs you may see this much esteemed device mention'd. In my plays matters are chosen not alone* for value as a subject to heare and no longer heed. Each play is the meane, or th' medium, by which cipher histories are sent forth. Thus all will, at th' least, serve a twofold purpose, and in Homer's two mightie workes (as in Yirgill's) a trebble, for we treated all transla- tions in th' first of our cipher work in a manner very like IN MASQUES. 51 that we followed in concealing our secret historic, but you can see easily that th' former are separated into a greater number of parts. This was necessarie because o' th' stories told in them, that could not be used in large portio's, in Cypher writing. Ne'erthelesse they serv'd well their pur- pose, which was to emploie this method of transmitting, as it is my invention, possessing th' nature of simple ques- tioning and experiment, and to preserve my works. I wish'd to have th' translations kept untill a future race of men, or at th' least scholars of our owne day rathe' then th' commoners, have mark'd, in my open workes under different names, a certaine stile that shall prove their origin to be th' same, because it will bee impossible to deoypher them fullie untill all th' works shall be conjoyn'd. When this is done and all th' keyes to put th' parts together have beene found, seeke th' arguments which are given in th' Bi-literall Cypher, and th' most of your difficultie shal bee overcome. Do not turne backe untill all th' secret histories shall have been written, for you can find the true records no where else. From portio's o' my Cypher, secrets which the Queene suspected some one would attempt to publish, may bee work'd out with a measure of skill, patient labour and perseverance. Those who shall turn back meerely to avoid difficulties, should ever look to have none of the prizes of life. Th' Holy Scripture saith : Whoever putteth his hand upon th' plough and looketh backe is -not fit for th' heav- enly kingdome; nor is he that turneth backe from this work fit for th' kingdome of knowledge. Th' work you here note, i. e., th' Masques, must bee employ'd in writing whole portiones of th' Iliads that were difficult to adapt to moderne poetry or to stage plays. This 52 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. you will, I doubt not, see ere this, but least it escape your attention I have mention'd it in this place and in other parts of th' work. If iterant rules should weary you beyond endurance, pray remember this: the work is as a circle with no apparent beginning: those parts written first may bee last found, therefore I repeat all these directions, and, too, I would fain make easier th' heavy taske impos'd on you, and my greatest labour hath been to but one end that of so ayding your part of th' work as should assure its successe. If once well understood th' chief requiring can bee quickly seen to bee perseverance. Of this I have not lesse neede myselfe then my decypherer, as this must be done carefuly, and all hath beene at least twice written, as my cypher work or th' interior letters must have cov'ring. Th' exterior part is so varied, so diverse in both matter and methods of treatment, that it serveth my purpose well, con- cealing a great work yet also revealing th' keyes design'd to open th' secret portalls. And although th' waye may sometimes seem like an endlesse labyrinth, you cannot f aile to thrid it if you heede my rules. You will finde as you progresse that I have made your tasks more pleasing then at first, and remember, pray, that your owne natae is, or must yet be, inseparably joyn'd with mine: therefore, if honour cometh to me by my wise use o' th' heav'n sent talents emploied in this invention, you must share in th' renowne. It is to none other I may looke for ayde to bring my work forth to men's sight. Your hand may roll the stone away from the door of the sepulcher and set this Cipher free. It is not dead it sleepeth, not for four short dayes like Lazarus of old, but doubtlessly for yeares, perhaps for centuries. Is it not then an act deserv- ing world-wide fame? Trust mee it shall not faile, but in IN MASQUES. 53 every land in which the English language hath a place, shall it be known and honour'd. As hath already been said Homer (Iliads and a great part of the Odysses) and Virgil (^Eneid and some of the ^Eglogues) were helpfull to me when this invention, of which I am now giving the historic, was at first emploied. Finding that this might be follow'd with ease in my his- toric by a key that I us'd, I then follow'd a similar plan respecting the whole, separating it into parts and using these fragments after th' same manner in all the workes that I publish'd in my owne (so call'd) name, or that of others. Spenser, Greene, Peele, Marlowe have sold me theirs, two or three others I have assum'd upon certaine occasions such as this, beside th' one I beafe among men. My owne should be like that of my mother Tidder, since I am sonne to th' Queene who came of that line, and as her eldest born, should now sit in her throne in place of him whom she made her heire, according to Cecill's report; but as I am known among English speaking peo- ples by the name you (untill now) thought to be rightfully mine, i. e., th' name of my foster parents Bacon, it is honourable and honored, yet have I vowed to make worthier, greater, and more renowned either stile, then it hath beene since it was first bestowed. The voyce of Fame should be as lowd as thunder, when she doth speake of me in comming years, for all my labour, looking toward the future, would bring our harvest-time when our dayes are not upon the sphere wee now inhabit. Shall not my work endure while Homer's doth, since from it I have form'd here a beauteous casket, well-wrought, curiously joyn'd, with Jewells richly set, for his pricelesse gift, no other having such beauty and worth? Even as 54 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Alexander when he was given that rich and costly casket o' King Darius, commanded that it bee reserv'd to hold Homer, his two bookes the Illiads and the Odysses, since he could think of nothing more precious. This storie furnisht me a pretext and suggested the plann which I forthwith carried to perfection, and as I have said, it so well serv'd the purposes of the great Ciphe' which I have been teaching you that I have never regretted the experi- ment. When th' Masques in my friend Ben Jonson's name with Part o' th' King's Coronall Entertaynment have been entir'ly decipher'd, take Greene's and Peele's workes in th' order giv'n in th' Faerie Queene. My plaies are not yet finishf, but I intend to put forth severall soone. However, bi-literall work requiring so much time, it will readily be seene that there is much to doe after a booke doth seeme to bee ready for the presse, and I could not well saye when other plays will come out. The next volume will be under W. Shakespeare's name. As some which have now beene produced have borne upon the title page his name though all are my owne work, I have allow'd it to stand on manie others which I myselfe regard as equall in merite. When I have assum'd men's names, th' next step is to create for each a stile naturall to th' man that yet should [let] my owne bee seene, as a thrid o' warpe in my entire f abricke soe that it may be all mine. "End" may seem to jny decyph'rer as if it should bee al, yet is bv noe means imall. F. BACON. IN SEJANUS. SEJANUS. Question, or some other form or manner of inquiry, and answer are your word-signs by which you may worke out my secret story herein co'cealed. This story concerns some of the chief personages of th' realme, first of all, our late despised parent, th' cause and th' renewer o' th' ills that we endured. My sole object doth appeare in this later work the play of Sejanus. None know half so well as I, th' underplay carried along in court in order t' secure my withdrawall from an unexampled field, wherein a mother strove against a sonne whose right to the succession to th' throne she did ignore and co'stantly avoid. Her unbending sterne temper, strong in death, set the seal upon my future as on my past life, since her will was th' law governing both. My owne spirit alone doth atteste how potent for good or for ill the dicta of such a woman may bee. Here alone is that long epistle to my to-bee decipherer that must be most observed in this worke. Seeke it out. Take my keies and unlocke my inner chamber. There will my hidden secrets be revealed fully, that he that shal willinglie lift the heavy vaile, should now ope th' treasure- casket which contains th' story of my life, as well as my late brother, his death. It is ev'n with wrought-ores thickly covered : gems rare and costive shine upon its sides : in the small room within you will find uncounted treasure, riches beyond your dreames of earthlie acquisition. The whole shall be the reward of my decypherer and will repay most generouslie his entire devotion to this labour. 56 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. As I have said, our newe designe shall give much pleas- ure, while it so amplie rewardeth the true worker. Seeking after any learning is a pleasure; seeking after what is hid- den, a delight, none soe pure forever springing up in fresh joy, as th' water of a meadowe spring gusheth forth to th' light. My next work is not begun here: much of it shall bee found in th' playes o' Shakespeare which have not yet come out. We having put forth a numbe' of plays i' his theatre, shall continue soe doing since we doe make him th' thrall to our will. Our name never accompanieth anie play, but it frequently appeareth plainly in Cypher for witty minds to transla'e from Latine and Greeke. As this is never seen, the secret still remained inside its treasure- house unsought of every one. This is yet hidden as in dim shadowy mists, but soone shall you have the whole of th' most worthy parts of this great cypher-writing, wrought much more finely then gold. FRANCIS BACON. NOTE The preceding five divisions were written by Bacon. Jonson was the author of the remaining works in the 1616 folio, but Bacon's Bi-literal Cipher Story was infolded in the Italic printing, as explained in what follows. IN COMMENDATORY POEMS. 57 COMMENDATORY POEMS. Beade some plaies by our Ben's active hand. Whe' more of our stories, which had truly fill'd all of our chief e plaies, sought more room, it was almost more then penne of one man could do to prepare such bookes, much less write them also. Soone he, publishing this famous work, afforded us this waie by which th' Bi-litterate may lead all our deci- ph'rers from bookes manie a suspecting enimie may possiblie too much note. Seeke not our chiefe of Cyphers th' Cypher unfolded by this nowe in use untill you have found our play of Sejanus, for it is that stage-play, one of earlie date, that containeth much of that translated poeme wee nam'd as having great value. It is spoken of more than once, that it be well imprest on the minde, (storie, or a play of an early day having no charme for some readers,) insoemuch as it seem'd a work not unworthy to be preserved. See that you give most careful 1 heede to our num'rous words, oft occuri'g to give our patie't friend ayde, and let passe nothi'g without observing all worthy instructions. Our progresse is along a devious waye, and by divers quaint devices hath a wondrous storie the storie ere this time familiar to you as one o' th ? nurserie tales wee heard in our childhood beene related. It is the storie of our owne birth and parentage, which must be given to other ages. FR. FIRST of ENGLAND. Puny little mindes, th' type most familiar to us, take much delight in talke. Th' surer methode to secure atten- tive ears is to put his writen works in such a peculiar, or secret form, that it wakeneth th' curious to seeke the' 58 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. wherever they should have beene hidden. Whilst I do not i'tend to put my Heaven-bestow' d powers on this plane, 'tis true that I have noething in coinon Avith vulgar mindes, that [it] is our wish to have our words heard, nor should it bee tho't vanitie since it is not alone that I wish fame amongst humankind, in such thinges. I desire that the time to come should correct the errors of the unfortunate present, but more I doe not hope to winne. It is to you I trust. Y'r Serva't FR. BACON. THE FOX. (BEN JONSON'S CIPHER LETTER.) Few eyes, unassisted, will take proper note of a Cipher in my dedicatory prsef atio, intended onely to make more room well adapted to guard thinges secret, whether my mater or not. My wrongs, besides, may not ]ook to distant dayes, nor to a land in mid-sea if th' Atlantis be fo'nd for redresse;, a just sentence from our owne countrey, its scholars, is my great desire. But my friend, by whose constantly urged request I use so secret a way of addressing the decypherer to aid him in a difficult task, trusteth all to the future, and a land that is very far towards th' sunset gate. To speake more clearly, I write to ayde my friend with whom I, having, in truth, his fame in heart as much as my honour and dignitie, often counselled much, but could devise no way by which hee should winne his throne and scepter. It shall bee noted, indeed, when you uncover his stile, my works do not all come from mine owne penne, for I shall name to you some plays that came forth fro' Sir F. Bacon, his worthy hand, or head, I bein' but the masque behind IN THE FOX. 59 which he was surely hid. Th' play entitled Sejanus was his drama, and th' King's, Queene's, Prince's Entertainments; the Queene's Masques are his, as also th' short Panegyre. Heerein you see the names hee used to pointe the way to the various workes, but I use no signes to bring them more into notice. When you looke cursorilie over our part of th' volume, you will not let his names escape your eye, but will seeke such plays hoping to finde the Cypher. Barnes like these have this use. Fame or Glorie, Reputation, Fortune, Na- ture, Arte, Time, Truth and Honour, when scatter'd in any of our workes say to you, "Look for things hid from most eyes," for wee thus ayded in his Cypher worke. ^ YVrs most dutifully, BEN JONSON. , This plaie was borowed. I could work to turne seekers r after matters which were hidden, into my othe' fieldes and thus cause them to loose the s'ent. Th' instructions I have so freely strewn throughout my work must give my ready decypherer sufficient ayde, as I doubt not his eie hath, ere his lesson could be learned, caught such signes as were named by my friend, Ben Jonson, in his dedication of th' work, and hath well guess'd a purpose therby. It is that I may write out my sad secret, and give a compleat history of our owne land in the life and raigne of my mother, the so- calPd Mayden Queene; with that of my father, th' Earle o r Leicester; my brother, th' Earle o' Essex; and diverse por- tions of my owne story that are important as parts of this secret storie. This must not be lightly pass'd, since you wish t' get a true recitall of most deepe and dangerous mat- ter, told as you could not finde it elsewhere. 60 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. It were a man both bolde and foolhardy that should write, or publish, in his time such dangerous truth, yet, thus disgui'd, it requireth lesse boldnesse and more perseverance; for I grant it seemeth most wearisome worke in cyphering as in discyphering, yea tedious, but necessarie, during mine early youth and manhood, to protecte my (v) life from a thousand threatning calamities, as no doubt you know, hav- ing followed our mazie Cypher. Surely, if it were other- wise, I should be working to noe end or purpose. These are lost labours if my histories be not found. This containes th' abridgement and a number of keyes of one part o' that history o' Robert Dudley, my father, not included in the play spoken of in diverse othe' letters. His character was not understood by those with whom his lot was caste, for hee had more than one closely guarded secret as shall bee scene in time. His true motif in many subse- quent acts, may be found in th' premises unknowne to th' writers of our day. It is, I doubt not, well remembred that hee suffer'd im- prisonment because he was in a measure concern'd in the attempt to enthrone Lady J arie Grey ; yet, being at length releas'd, his sun of prosperity rose high, for his union with Elizabeth, afterward queene, made him first in this king- dome, next to this royal spouse. But not being acknowl- edg'd such, publicklie, nor sharing in her honours, my poor father was but a cypher, albeit standing where he should multiplie th' valew of that one. A suspicion was generall that th' death that overtooke his sweet wife could be laid to his charge. Aye, a treacherous stairwaye betraid her step, falling beneath lightsome Amy's foot, cast her violently on the paling belowe, and the tidings of her demise was not altogether newes to one whose minde IN THE FOX. 61 was too eager to heare it. To divert curious questioning from the royall union, many shiftes and turnings were a necessity. For th' space o' nineteene or twentie yeares, my father, gay court-idole as he was, guarded his secret and bask'd in the sunshine of royall favour. By degrees he was giv'n title and stile suiting soe vayne a minde better then would the weight of governement, were that conferr'd on him. Hee was first made Master of th' Horse; this gave him controule of th' stables, and gave him such place in th' royall proces- sions as he very truly desired, next Her Majestic; also, she conferr'd upon him the Order of the Garter, and diverse other markes of favour, whilst to beare out their stage-play untill their parts should be done, Her Majesty, most like some loud player, proclaim'd Baron Dudley, Earle of Leicester, suitor to Mary Queene of Scots, and at all *ad- monitory protests which the haried husband uttered, this waieward Queene went on more recklesslie. Therefore we must marvell to see him later claime ad- vantage of Her Majestie's bold moode to take another part- ner to his bosome, rightly divining that she would not shewe cause why such an union could not be fitly consider'd or con- sumated, but venturing not upon full confession thereof. However, Her Ma. dwelt not for long in ignoble inactio' the force that she gave to her angry denunciation affrighting th' wits of this poor earle, untill he was againe turning over expedientes to rid her of this rivall. Suspicion againe fel on the misguided man, of seeking to murther th' partner of his joyes, but Heaven brought his owne doome suddenly upon him. So doth this act end. *Silent "Woman. 62 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. My mother was nearlie distracted with griefe, remorse, and despaire for a space. Upon my brother, his returne, to take the favorite's place, she bent on Essex th' fonder love of her heart and gave much gracious attention to his honor and th' furtherance of her designes regarding him. Indeed, much harm was wrought to others then themselves, for great the court scandall regarding love messages betwixt them, as though they had bin mindfull onely o' pleasure, so that th' lords of her councill wink'd visiblie at it, least it enter at their eies; for 'twas dangerous for anie onlookers if the eye- sight were keene and saw behind those masques. '" Th' men, to-day are too nigh for good sight, but my faith was formally pledg'd to write it as I believ'd it, I may say, knew it, not blenching nor omitting th' sinne of either. As hath beene said, my lord of Essex presum'd too much upo' secret liking, and in a short time found himselfe lesse hon- or'd then crost or chided. Should we, therfore, marvell to see him haughtie and overbearing when chaft, geniall and gen'rous when smooth'd? nor so much as doubt this swift change upp and down of his fortune had much effect upon his spirit? and imagining that his footing were secure, fell from safetie into great danger as th' astronomer who was gazing on th' heaven to study the stars, fell into the water? But his historic is contained in various other workes, nor doth my deciph'rer neede furder ayde then hath beene thus provided, to inable him to write, by meanes of my other great Cypher. Take courage, I pray thee, and continue my prolong'd writings that my Cypher relating most important thinges shall come t' th' birth, for it can avayle us nought while lying conceal'd. But to go on. *The Alchemist. IN THE FOX. 63 Her Majestie soone had matters of great importe to con- sider. Events crowded verie close upon the preceding, and whilst a lion watcht in strong holds, foxes spoil'd the grapes, as in former ^Eons, according to tradition. Th' Armado had come and gone, dispers'd partly through th' readie action of England's seamen, partlie through th' tempest o' th' flood, but Catholick Spayne needed still a warines, subtle, sleeplesse. Many o' th' olde faith, as it was then stil'd, remayn'd in different portions o' th' countrie; these, yet smarting under th' blowe to th' hope of restoring th' Church o' Rome to supremacy that th' execution o' Mary of Scots gave them, were not at heart 'good subjects, but th' spirit and daring that Elizabeth shewed, had effect. With her oreweening passion of vanitie, was mingled a stro'g hatred of warre, and wish to outcraft th' enemies of a roial government whose head was a woman, or in common speech, not of the ablest sexe. Events duelie sanction'd a claime to th' heart of Henry, her grandsire; for Henry, the Tudor who most upheld th' glory o' that line o' kings of which hee was first, was a mirrour to my mother in divers things. This history is contained in some stage plays that came out in Shakespeare's name. Ere long there will be many of like stile, purpose and scope added thereto, which shall both ayd and instruct you in th' work. This should make it cleare, e. g. *sixty stage-plays which, in varyi'g stiles that are contrary to my owne well known stile of expression, whylst for more of our lighter work, an impenetrable mask, for a history, much too varied; hence these great plays have bin devis'd which, being similar, often held this inne' history therein unsuspected. This wo'drously co'ceal'd "Catiline. 64 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. 9 story, ther'fore, sheweth how history repeateth itselfe, and simplie shifting the scenes doth bring in new actors to take th' same parts ; soe, where the names only being altered caus- eth somewhat of doubt within you, paie no heed to counsels of such sorte, for it shall soone be made manifest that this is th' universall, unalterable, and undeviating lawe, and all must yielde to its governement. All are borne arfd all die; though each must play many parts, he findeth noe part that is his alone. In wise Salomon his words: "There's nothing new 'neath the sunne." Many have, it may be, acted this part my proud mother play'd fewe so successfullie. Goe to Jonson, his spicy poenies, cal'd Epigrammes that folow where, perhaps ""seeing herein th' sev'rall keies or guide-words you wil thinke these my worke, but as my friend said in his most pleasing epistle, when they come here, my decypherer will knowe that he should expect many key-words and should go from this final work [to one] entituled by him Every Man out of His Humour. Passe to Cynthia's Re veils and th' Poetaster. The first shall bee last, as you have seene ere now when studying th' Holy Scripture. Your keyes are : Earle, Lord, Leicester, Ayme Robsart, tyne, report, marrie, othe, priest, Elizabeth, May den Prin- cesse, Virgin Queene, hatred, remorse, death, falling, treachery, art, amazement, court, feare, train, artfull, shame, jalousie, anger, triall, suspition, favorit, Mary, Scot- land, France, Ireland, Spanish, Infanta, Philip, Spaine, Master o' Her Majestie's Horse, Order of th' Garter, coun- sellor, Ayrshire, London, Elanders, commander, Dover, Epigrams. IN THE FOX. 65 L. Duke Alva, Parma, *Queene-rnother, Paris, French, gal- lantry, courage, glosse, fate, deathless, marriage, fury, poy- son, sacke, intent, wrong loves. *Make th' keyes thus nam'd in Th' Forrest, your guides to sundry othe' parts of my play then have generally beene put out, for while I thus may hide aides, keies, or abridg- ments, I feel no feare of discovery and proceed calmlie. Witts that be so sharpe and keene that our foxe having none other covert might come suddenlie to grief e, shall by the device here adopted fayle to s'ent it. Yet are we in good hope that my faithful interpreter will understand how hee shall bring it forth, but the play shall not bee us'd except for directions in Bi-letter Cyphar (because it hath but that Cyphar) being from my friend, his worthy penne. You have decyphered it already if you have followed our turnes. I have little myselfe to do except give directio' unto your work, my writi'gs being chiefly sent foorth at this time which bee readie for printing. How soon my story of my owne life shall lack but obit, I know not. Manie others are compleated, as I think must, out of doubt, bee well known to you th' most that our endeavors could, by consta't, tirelesse labours put forth. Yet hath my plann many worthy things of accompt, or of mark, yet to com- pleat in my various, and dayly growing fields. But no doubt a part must be put upo' hands that we trained to our work but by a patient reiteration, much like our instructor's in th' elementary learning of our childhoode. Time must bee carefullie hoarded by one who would use a Cypher in his publisht works, for his labour, multiplying *The Forrest. *Every Man Out of His Humor. 66 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. thereby from once writing to two or three, tryeth the spirit sorelie, and requireth soe much leasure, that fewe would pursue it soe long as I have done, and fewe have soe great cause, as you know. And yet I have also emploied my Cyphers for other then secret matters in many of my later bookes, because it hath now become so much an act of habite, I am at a losse at this present, having lesse dificile labour, now, then in former times in Her Ma.'s service. My owne study is not (for my Cyphar writings) omitted, and lesse estimated, but most diligent work, I se, is ever delightful for mankinde and their benefit. The lacke of my just honour and dignity oppresseth little, if my minde be constantly set upon others besides myselfe, nor can any pow'r but th' Divine make man's heart happie or sad. "Minde is the true kingdome, ever/' in the words of the song my friend quoteth most aptly, and my constant hope is to atchieve as much greatnesse therein, and win as much honour, as would belong to me by right of my greater birth, as th' world maketh its accompt of pow'r or desert, then is supposed mine. You surely must know I am by right of blond. King, no other then th' true, right or proper inheritour o' th' Crowne. I am per- suaded one who should work soe patiently, hath found rnanie a revelation. As unto myselfe, I have layd my every planne open herein, and as shall bee seene, spare my pride not at all, in relating the story. Polity, doubtlesse, would counsell the suppression of some of this, but it suiteth mee to put thoughts as freely heere as I would inscribe them in a private booke noe eye but this might reade. In order to conceale my Cypher more perfectly I am preparing for th' purpose a sette of alphabets in th' Latine IN THE FOX. 67 tipe, not for use in th' greatest or lengthy story or epistle, but as another disguise, for, in ensample, a prologue, prse- fatio, the epilogues, and head-lines attracted *too much notice. I, therefore, have given much trouble to mine ayders by making two kinds or formes of these letters. These bee not designed for other use then hath but now beene explain'd, nor must you looke to see them employ'd if a reason for th' change appeare, but there will be warn- ing given you for your instruction or guidance. Noe othe' waie of diverting th' curious could be used where th' exteriour epistle is but briefe, however it will not thus turne aside my decypherer, for his eye is too well practis'd in artes that easily misleade others who enquire of th' waye. If I deceive your hope and leade you on to pursue a flitting vision o' fame, fortune, and great delight, may th' whole injury bee mine, for th' hope and desire are mine; yet I cannot beleeve my noble invention, which hath already bin us'd many yeares, shall proove valuelesse or vaine. I am, in very truth, confident of my dues of honor in the course o' time, and that shall bee shared with my decypherer. Can he say this is nought and laugh at it? I thinke not, nor can hee say that I have any other objecte in view, or other motive then to give a corrected history of my times, albeit my owne is more changed by my recital then any othe ? save Her Majestie, her story. 'Tis just that the vayle bee torne from th' features admired so long, to expose her true character to all th' world. Yet I make inquirie of you, who hath a penne soe perfect that it could shew th' colours o' good and evill? Onlie one who is gifted with more then common wisedome, but th' hand so guided worketh out lines as doth inspired pennes. "Cynthia's Revels. 68 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Surelie a sonne doth sit close at hand and should se clearly to limne truely. This I know I have accomplisht, nor glozed, nor blench'd in my accompt, although wider, or rathe' more searching lookes, shew'd mee tha' undercur- rant, stronger ev'n then vanity, partly Tudor strength of will, and partly her owne selfe-love, that moved on as resist! esslie as fate, bearing all before th' unsuspected force. This it was, altho' soe well disguis'd, that kept me from my crowne, and as th' days and moneths wore towards th' close o' life, her desires master'd her wisedome soe farre that shee did meditate naming my brother successor; but his attempt to snatch this prize did thwart alike her hope, and his, at forfeit of his life. All joys died with Essex in both our bosomes; for her, all peace, as well, and she deelin'd toward her owne end from daie to day, visiblie, even while she stroove most to hide her weaken esse. Some, doubtlesse, suppos'd that some spirit of justice was arous'd respecting her owne right, and beleev'd that it manifested itselfe very plainly in th' choice of Mary's sonne to succeed her, but I know that her strong othe concerning mee, the reall heyre to th' kingdome, had greater waight then all things else. It was still most constantly in her minde, more perhaps, or as much, as th' Scripture, so that, as Ben Jonson saith, she made it her religion *to doe injury to me. Yet have I accomplisht much by most thorough manner and unceasing appliance of time. But in Cypher writi'g, you know well, nothing can be accounted finished whylst *The Poetaster. IN THE FOX. 69 anie Cypher historic bee inco'pleat. My grande Cyphre prooveth true, but th' work is heavie. Much doth still remayne to build up into a new forme a new edifice but having exercis'd patience and most ceaslese perseverance for so manie yeares, 'tis not probable that I shall now falter; but I dread least too many parts be left when I make the finall exit, and mar the whole. Of that none but the Divine Kuler knoweth. Xoe hand save this could carry out my dessein, and con- clude so well both th' Cyphe' narrations and the exteriour epistles, yet are the secret letters soe divided when assorted, no one would see th' story that had not the Cypher key. Very little, the care this causeth me. My feares growe from that which I called dread as to the end of the work. Th' time is still in niinde when my thoughts had no rest in th' hours o' idlenes lest Her Majestic, my mother, finde out my secret. Shee is now gone to that undiscover'd country from whose borne no traveller returnes; nor feare nor hope is left me of ought from her hand, but death shall not burie this that her life ccgiceaPd. Th' truth here dis- cover'd must live in ev'ry age, for a Righteous Judge doth pronounce this sentence irrevocably. 'Tis simple justice to her spouse and her two heyres, if too tardie to availe ought. But your recompence should be like my owne, that is to say, honor. jSTone, if due you by following our Cypher, will come short. No man may so deprive you of that, hence, for your owne sake we trust that your strength and patie'ce shall continu' until from th' bookes we leave, you work out this gem of stored truth, most like a worker in th' earth's hidden mines as you put down your bar you see the treasure. 70 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Severall comedies, which.be now strangers, as might be said, bearing at th' most such titles 'mongst the plaiers as they would remember, but th' author's name in disguise, if it bee seen at all, will, as soone as may be found toward and propitious, be publisht by Shakespeare, i. e. in his name, having masqued thus manie of the best plaies that we have beene able to produce. To these wee are steadilie making additions, writing from two to six stage plays every year. With th' state duty latelie devolv'd on us this seemeth surely a great taske, since as is knowne to our decypherer, th' Cyphers must be first divided, (put out so fragmentary, soe well scatter'd that no such purpose be dreamt of), and when all is prepar'd, this Bi-literall part i. e. as it is being set up must pass into no scrutiny but mine. Tlr great prease of these labours doth take from one, as must be undertaken, th' required leysure for correc- tions which is doubly noted herein. In some places the reader will not find much hindrance from such obstruc- tions, in others 'tis hardlie wonne; yet we take heart since we assure ourself th' decyph'rer's eye is ever soe keene, he shall let noe simple errour blind him. And though important parts may be frequently, aye many a time, repeated, hee shall acknowledge our device is as truly a waie to transcend small works as writing th' usual dramas doth farre outgo history. As one writi'g the true story must throw all dread and feare into ISTox, her gloomie for- getfullnes, this Cypher is as a strong guard, its meandri'gs our safetie, so shutti'g out harassing inquirers. SIR F. B. IN THE FOX. 71 / *At our father's most ernest request this tale must be made very full, so that no reader could doubt its true design. Other thinges, noe matter how great, or vast, must yield place. Yet it was his wish to have it told ope'lie in our books. That wee hold imprudent. Th' deciph'rer hath no grave task. Xo more must he decypher after th' play now in hand. It is my work noe furder then doth concern alphabets, excepting those portions which have, I doubt not, beene found long ere this, having soe oft beene spoken of in manie of my epistles. Th' Cyphe' therein contain'd hath great worth if writ- ten out, but like th' tre'sure in f am'd mines o' distante isles, little can its valew be knowne whilst it lyeth hidden. Where manie authours receive the reward of their applica- tion at once, ours awaits man's future; but 'tis th' future of time, and posterity must make just amends for our present want. The future peoples of a distant shore will prove true th' word which saith : "A man is not without honour save in his owne countrey," since they be true, to-day, here, for us who dwell where th' Divine footsteps have nere trod, as they were sixteene hundred yeares ago in Palestine. Wee awaite that day. FR. BACO'. *Every man in his humor. SHAKESPEAEE QUAKTOS. RICHARD THE SECOND. 1615. Winne honest rewardes in the praise o' your generation by greeting them in our voyce, and like a sweete violl, sound such musicke that all shal recognise the hand that made of olden time, musieke that all men found good. Sweete lines of our ever new poeme, Faerie Qucene, fresh in their minds still rest, and when these in new forme come out from the shelte' of our exteriour workes, they afforde pleasant sur- prises. The same is noted in respect of all works, and the pleasant charme is such as doth come in th' dance on removing the masque wh'ch hath coneeal'd a face that we love. We lose remembrances unreal, fantasies and a strangenesse (even where wee bee most sensible that onely the shell is altered) and we welcome the familiar features. Sometimes th' secret epistle seemeth a harsh note and jarreth; discord is sodaiiiely thimd'red forth, yet is it all iiecesary, if truth is to be seen and understood. Wei knowing how rude some notes shall sound, f aine will our musike, wrought soe silentlie, ofte resou'd one stra'gly sweete straine of one our early fancy, pai'ting not what we knew, but ev'ry winsome grace, or proud yet gentle motion of lilie hand or daintily tripping foot, long worshipt as divine heavenly Marguerite, Queene of Xavarre. So shall the ruder jar, slightly lessen'd, sound almost harmonious. IN MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 73 See also shall the disclosed story, or this broken accompte of secret working at Court, come to bee knowne. A truth shall bee reveal'd that much wrongeth us. F. B. OR T. MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 1619. Write out the Grayes Inne epistle and by following our Cyphar in one set of playes not yet put out, there, hid with a penetrable masqueing device, a great number of secrets may be learn'd which are not elsewhere fullie told. The secret carried, utterly reverseth the common opinion at present currant, though some do know Queene Elizabeth to have wedded. Ere she, coming to th' throne like an imperiall Tudor, in every word that she let fall at the councell board, might hold these idole, subtile whispers i' leash, there were many rumors as it will be in truth prov'd, passing quicklie from tongue to tongue. By undulie bandying about a ring as one might say to speak lightly, since our observing search ii'deth nought that could not bee said to ende at the same place at which it may have started there hath bin strange proof that maids put their lives in numberlesse jeopardies, buying libertie of th' thoughts or th' tongue with losse of liberty of the bodie; or that men, ev'n, when some strong drinke loos'd propper controllment of th' member, thorow rash speech, were reft sodainelie of lands and tre'sure [and] paid penalty to th' hight of her owne plesure. There needed no other pretexte were this offender lowly; the noble no waye was advantag'd eyther. Sundrie were never in any case wanting to shewe her th' safe waye to 74 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. her will. Among th' com'ons it is sayd, in great f eare, more simple mindes sustayned th' shocke at such time o' perill as did unhinge stronger ones, and it may be thought a very binding oath made on th' Sacred Word could so control trulie garrullous tongues, and that of the common rank example might have bin found necessary. We must say this was the case. It is told for truth, to our belief in many such cases the racke was us'd, and one man suffered th' losse of th' offending member for his word. BACONS THE WHOLE CONTENTION BETWEENE THE HOUSES OF YORK AND LANCASTER. 1619. Like ill thought, fly curses, and doe not light, when causeles, to do injury. In this doe we see onelie simple, just judgeme't, or right dealing, when we waigh the clayme of divine birthright to an exercise proper and right of a man's owne will. When ill succes.with one most aspiring ambition, not yet likely or I might say ev'n possible o'.that degree of fullfilme't I desire, f ollow'd upon my first serious differences and subsequent open rupture with our mother, I tooke coun- sel] with one, who, tho' not an oracle, possest wisedom that most lacke, that is, wisedome for himselfe. Hee bad me manifest no f eare of curses such as anger shall oft call downe yet cannot governe. We may shudder at a dreadfull winged word, but it cannot doe harine to our life. Qu. E., who deserv'd more honour as a wife then could otherwise come to her, who should, following Cornelia, her gracious yet solemne ensample and worthie word, have helde her sonnes as precious even as England's costliest IN THE WHOLE CONTENTION^ 75 gemmes, was much mov'd by my rash interference to turne aside her wrath ere it had blasted utterly the fayre flowret on whom it fell, yclipt me ewry dred name her tongue; could speake and cursed mee bitterly. Manie say it still doth work me haruie. This cannot be true, inasmuch as I am innocuous of any premeditated ill to Elizabeth. * * * That this shall bee such true historic that it shall be worthy of preservacion, I have not blench'd ought how- soev'r much it may irk mee, or wearie those who read it, but some of it I would I could forget after it hath bene set downe. I cannot, as one that would write the evill with such plaine and hideous feature, th' sight shall turne pure eyes from it, narrate this in wordes lesse strong. A truth cannot well chose its outside apparell, but it shall wear unsullied robes. Th' great Cipher shal contain most importa't matters that will not elsewhere bee found, because this king is nothing lacking in diligence to suppres any printing that would acquaynt very youthfull yeomen with this strange clayme strange since he who thus demanded right was sonne to the Queene, th' first to blesse her union with 'Robert Dudley whilst a prisoner in the Tower. It is well knowne at home and abroad that England's yeomanrie, inform'd that England's lawful Prince walk'd humblie without his crowne, would joine in one mightie force that he be enthronized. This it is which now maketh me assured it had bene much to advantage me, if my claime had th' sturdy yeomen, their support. The commons, in such a cause, can, I have no doubt, ayde or advance one farre more then a forraine royalty, or this nobilitie, if once these matters shall be wel understood ; so that the wish to leav'n th' stout youths of 76 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. our land in western and many northern country towns is vastly gaini'g stre'gth, and many workes have beiie plami'd to interesse, in plays, men -who can get little else. Yet if th' times yield them noe one that shall interprete to some of this number, th' epistles within the huske, I can nere reach their mindes, or rouse them for this start. Some would yeeld his cause sooner, or aske ayde in a lande remov'd far from this, yet I have turned to my long estrang'd yet wholy honest peopl' that I may come to the power. Watching th' storms but saying no unmeani'g word, I put forth my secret letters. It may bee noe eie will note, no hand will ayde if this be true I die and make no signe. If a Divine Pow'r intend noe ayde, I can only look forward towards the future. It shall thus perchance, some- what content my heart at that farre off day that those who dwel on the globe may fully learn how great is th' wrong turbulent Robt. did by thus endang'ring as well a worthy and devoted friend and a .loving brother to worke out a strange, I [ay], bold designe, since 'twas this which sudenly rous'd Her Majesty to hatred or jealousie great as th' mind to which that evill demon came. The events that follow'd prooved this, but I could onlie sail in th' waters when a milde wind blew, lest the sodaine wracke of all my cherish'd dreames might fill my heart with envie the root of th' worser evills that become our portio' at our birth. Th' reriew'd maidenlike pretence made mee know th' intent held by this vayne-minded, selfe-loving woman. Daily, a sonne with proud humour mirrour'd her best graces, but shee was nere mov'd to retract a single wrathful oath or yield a word o' approvall, be my deservi'g whatsoever and whensoeever it might. This continued estrangement IN PERICLES. 77 wore on or increased. At last she fell into a mela'colia so profou'd none could rouse her. This was more unfor- tunate for mee then a most mark'd resolve such as I spake of, for a whim may oft be remov'd and banished, but mania is difficile to controll, else my most able powers had trulie shewn men what both equally desired that height to which England should rise, ruled by a kind, wise king. FRANCIS OF E. PERICLES. 1619. When this and various plaies put out in diverse names have bin joined, you shall finde that I am the authour that is masquing his work thus, that a secret, ay a perilou' historic, may bee written in better form then I could well employ if I wish'd to speak so plain e that all might heare and know my voyce. All men who write stage-playes are held in co'tempte. For this reason none say, "How strange," when a plaie- cometh, accompanied with gold, asking a name by whichi one puting it forward shall not bee recognis'd, or thought to bee cognisant of its existence. For this cause, if rare stories must hare a hidi'g, noe other could be so safe, for th' men who had won gold in any way, did not readily acquai't any man, least o' these a stranger, with his source of wealth as you may well understand. For space o' many long yeeres ther'fore I have cent'red my thought and giv'n as much of my time as th' calls of our businesses do permit. My motive some might question, yet it seemeth to mee a worthie and right one to be giv'n waie, my wishes or plans being myracles to some slighte 78 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. degree, th' great thought comming to me in th' silente night vigils. For a youth could see his whole life at a word turn'd aside. As a stream soe often, out o' wild mou'tayn gorg rising, carry'd thro' a meade in bounds that have bin set, or trameld by devices, doth lose its spirit, so hee felt his hart change in his breast. There was a momente when as by a thunde'- bolt th' truth was hurtled forth in soe hard, stern, unbending waye it shockt young minds; and sensible souls must deliver a cry of sorrow when a wound is wa'tonlie inflicted. In my plaies, therefore, I have tossed my f eeli'gs as they doe roll and swell, or hurtle along their way. Observe, tho' 'twas th' seco'd daughter of Henri the Eight was my mother, these things do bring my hart many a feare I shal never, in a farre time, bee FRANCIS THE FIRST OF ENGLAND. YORKSHIRE TRAGEDY. ED. 1619. This play should joine our othe' playes if our greatest of Cyphres, or o' all artes be found. These must be sought where wee previously directed you, and by noe meanes must th' work bee layd by, tho' so tiresome 'tis sometimes lesse pleasure to followe with co'stancie, then to take up as occasion and liking shall serve. But so great is th' importance that may attach to seem- ingly small incidents, this history should not bee pass'd over by one seeking the true and ungloz'd story as seldome related ene unto bosom friends. In no part be faithles and rash. FR. BACON. IN ROMEO AND JULIET. 79 ROMEO AND JULIET. WITHOUT DATE. Since th' former issue of this play, very seldome heard without most stormie weeping you' poets commonest plaudite we have al but determined on folowing the for- tunes of thes ill-fated lovers by a path les thorny. Their life was too briefe its rose of pleasure had but partlie drunk the sweete dewe o' early delight, and evrie hour had begun to ope unto sweete love, tender leaflets in whose fragrance was assurance of untolcl joies that th' immortalls know. Yet 'tis a kinde fate which joyn'd them together in life and in death. It was a sadder fate befel our youthful! love, my Mar- guerite, yet written out in the plays it scarce would bee named our tragedie since neither yeelded up life. But the joy of life ebb'd from our hearts with our parting, and it never came againe into this bosome in full flood-tide. O we were Fortune's foole too long, sweete one, and arte is long. This stage-play in part will tell our briefe love tale, a part is in the play previously nam'd or mention'd as having therein one pretty scene, acted by the two. So rare (and most briefe) th' hard-won happinesse, it afforded us great content to relive in th' play all that as mist in summer morni'g did roule aAvay. It hath place in th' dramas co'- taining a scene and theame of this nature, since our fond love interpreted th' harts o' others, and in this joy, th' joy of heaven was faintlte guess'd. Farre from angelique tho' man his nature, if his love bee as cleare or as fine as our love for a lovely woman (sweet as a rose and as thorny it might chance) it sweet'neth all 80 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. th' e'closure of his brest, oft chaugeiug a waste into lovely gardens, which th' angels would fayne seeke. That it soe uplifts our life who would ere question. Xot he, our friend and good adviser, knowne to all decyph'ring any o' these hidd'n epistles, Sir Amyas Paulet. It is sometimes said, "No man can at once be wise and love," and yet it would be wel to observe many will bee wiser after a lesson such as we long agoo conn'd. There was noe ease to our sufferi'g heart til our yeares of life were eight lustres. The faire face liveth ever in dreames, but in inner pleasances onely doth th' sunnie vision come. This wil make clearlie scene why i' th' part a man doth play heerein and wherere man's love is evident, strength hath remain'd unto the end, th' wanto' Paris recov'ring by his latter venture much previouslie lost. BACON. ROBERT GREENE. A QUIP FOR AN UPSTART COURTIER. 1620. This work may not be knowne as mine, as anothe' is now giv'n all o' th' wreathes and girlonde' certaine bookes bring. 'Tis among more worthy productions alreadie known to you. and is made valuable to my compleated his- tory in my long-sought interionr epistles, as my labours must by this time clearlie haA'e shewne, by that pri'cipall Cypher. FRA'. B. FKAXCIS BACON. NOVUM ORGANUM. 1620. All that learne that I, who accompte th' truth better then wicked vanitie, publish'd manie late playes under other cognomen' will think the motive some distaste of the stage. In noe respect is it true, yet I shall make knowne to him who can reade Cypher-writing, a motive stronger then this, were it such, since man hath a greater desire to live then hee hath to winne fame, and my life had foure eager spyes on it, not alone by day but by night also. It may thus bee surmis'd that devices of some sort were soe needful, even to publish poemes which might natural- lie bee but such as doe afforde pleasure, that my wit, not at all lessen'd, but sharpen'd, by constant dangers, found meanes unknown to those who were most warie, to send out much hidden dang'rous matter, (using tearmes in re- gard tc myselfe onely) that was not ev'n doubted. Several! small works under no name wonne worthy praise; r-ext in Spenser's name, also, they ventured into an unknowne world. "When I, at length, having written in diverse stiles, found three who, for sufficient reward in gold added to an immediate renowne as good pens, willingly put forth all workes whch I had compos'd, I was bolder. Feare lest noe reader may note an inner or Cipher story, is more present now, and doth question how to make a 81 82 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. change of such sort that it be simple but not playne, for no strong Cypher is to be read as wee reade a booke. Having with some care prepar'd twoo setts both large and small of accented or mark'd letters, in this type com- monly cald Italique, I have emploied the same more fre- quently to hide secret matters, not as a meanes to render discyphering easy, per contra, making it difficult. How- ever I now purpose their employment in my future labour in lieu o' th' plain' type, beleeving that the eie will be more readilie strucke thereby not in the present writing further then hath already beene mention'd. Upon more reflection, I am assured it will, at length, accomplish all intended when it was devis'd, which, as must, methinkes, ere the present time bee well knowne, was but to aide in decyphering my great Word-Cypher so called because key-words are emploi'd in joining the parts. It is farre more labour writing thus, since a mistake causeth much harme, and a frequent and tiresome repeti- tion hath beene needfull to assure th' revelation of th' whole hidden story; nor can it prove to be lesse wearyi'g to my decipherer whe' all my secret hath beene brought out, yet doe I maintaine that the principall work hath beene, or is, writing a secret storie of my owne life, as well as a true historie of th' times, in this greater Cypher. I have lost therein a present fame that I may, out of anie doubt, recover it in our owne and othe' lands after manie a long yeare. I thinke some ray, that farre offe golden morning, will glimmer ev'n into th' tombe where I shall lie, 'and I shall know that wisdome led me thus to wait unhonour'd, as is meete, until in the perfected time, which the Ruler, that doth wisely shape our ends, rough hewe them how we will, doth ev'n now knowe, my justi- fication bee complete. IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 83 In th' Cyphers heere given, you will run ore the story of my life from yeere to yeere, wherein you may find that I was of roiall birth, th'" first whose clayme to th' scepter was denyed by his foolish mother, herselfe a queene. I being th' first sonne, and borne in proper and just time after my roial mother, her marriage, should sway* Eng- land's sceptre and sit in her chaire of state; but Elizabeth, who thought to outcraft all th' powers that be, supprest all hints of her marriage, for no knowne object if it bee not that her desire to swaie Europe had some likelihood, thus, of comming to fulfillment. Many were her suitors, with whom shee executed th' figures of a dance, advanc- ing, retreating, leading, or following in sweet sympathy to the musicke's call. But ever was there a dying fall in those straines none might heare onely she or my father and th' dancer's feete never led to Hymen's lofty altar, thereafter. A feare seemed to haunt her minde that a king might suit th' mounting ambitions of a people that began to seeke Xew Atlantis beyond th' westerne seas. Some doubtlesse long'd for a roiall leader of the troopes, when warres blacke eagles threat'ned th' realme, which Elizabeth met in two O * wayes by shewi'g a kinglie spirit when subjects were admitted into th' presence chamber, and by th' most con- sta't opposition to warre, as was well knowne to her coun- cill. Manie supposing miserly love of gold uppermoste in mind and spirit, made but partial and cursorie note o r her naturall propension, so to speake, or the bent o' th' disposition, for behinde every othe' passion and vanity mooving her, the feare of being depos'd rankled and urg'd her to a policie not yet understood. Th' warres of Edward, cald The Third, but who might 84 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. bee nam'd the first amongst heroes, and of his bolde sonne, known as Edward the Blacke Prince, of brave Henry Fift, and her grandsire Henry Sevent, as well as one of her father, his short strifes, were not yet out of memorie of th' people. Many pens kepte all these fresh in their mindes. Shee, as a grave physitian, therefore, kept a finger on th' wrist of the publique, so, doubtlesse, found it the part of prudence to put the Princes, my brother, th' Earle of Essex, and myselfe out o' th' sight of th' people. Yet in course of time the Earle of Leicester, our subtile father, handled matters so that hee came nearer to obtain- ing th' crowne for my brother then suited my wishes and claymes, making pretense of consulting [my] tastes and fitnesse for learning. That Robert was of bolder temper and more fiery spirit I can by no argument disprove, but I want not roiall parts, and right of primogeniture may not be set aside, without some costly sacrifice, as modesty or good fame. Stopping shorte of this irreparable wrong, my father tooke but slight interesse in the things he had beene so hot upon, and th' trouble regarding his wilde pro- jects was at a time much later subsequent to th' death of our fathe'. Though constantly hemmed about, threatened, kept under surveillance, I have written this history in full in the Cypher, being fully persuaded, in my owne minde and heart, that not onelie jesting Pilate, but the world aske: "What is truth?" and when they reade th' hidden history in my work, must thinke it a worthie labour to write a triie history of our times, and o' that greatly renown'd mayden-queene, Elizabeth, it shall appeare misplact IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 85 when you put my work, as you here shall finde it, into a form readily understood. As may bee well kuowne unto you, th' questio' of Eliza- beth, her legitimacie, made her a Protestant, for the Pope had not recognis'd th' union, tho' it were royale, which her sire made with f ayre Anne Boleyn. Still we may see that despite some restraining feare, it suited her to dallie with the question, to make a faint shew of settling the mater as her owne co'scie'ce dictated, if we take th' decisions of facts; but the will of th' remorse-tost king *left no doubt in men's minds concerning th' former marriage, in fact, as th' crowne was giv'n first to Mary, his daughter of that marriage, before commi'g to Elizabeth. In th' storie of my most infortunate grandmother, the sweet ladie who saw not th' headsman's axe when shee went forth proudly to her coronation, you shall read of a sadnesse that touches me neere, partlie because of neere- nesse in bloud, partlie from a firme beliefe and trust in her innocencie. Therefore every act and scene of this play of which I speake, is a tende' sacrifice, and an incense to her sweete memorie. It is a plea to the generations to come for a just judgement upon her life, whilst also giving the world one of the noblest o' my plays, hidden in Cy'hre in many other workes. A short argument, and likewise th' keies, are giv'n to ayde th' decypherer when it is to be work'd out as I wish. This doth tell th' story with suflicient clearnes to guide you to our hidden storie. This opeth at th' palace, when King Henry for the first time cometh truely under the spell of her beautie, then in th' highest perfection of dainty grace, fresh, un- spoiled, and the charme of youthlie manners. It is 86 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. thought this was that inquisition which brought out feares regarding th' marriage contracted with Katharine of Arra- gon, so that none greatly wond'red whe' prolonged consul- tation of the secret voyce in his soule assur'd the questioner noe good could ever come from the union. Acti'g upon this conviction he doth confer money and titles upon his last choise to quiet objections on score of unmeetnes. But tho' an irksome thing, truth shall be told. Tho' it be ofttimes a task, if selfe-imposed, not by any meanes th' lesse, but* more wearisome, since the work hath noe voyce of approvall or praise, I intend its completion. For many simple causes th' historic of a man's life cometh from acts that we see through stayned glasse darkelie, and of th' other sexe, a man doth perceyve lesse, if possible, but th' picture that I shall heere give is limn'd most care- fully. However m' pen hath greatly digress'd, and to returne. Despite this mark of royall favour, a grave matter like the divorcement of a royall spouse to wed a maide, suited not with f ayre Anne's notions of justice, and with a sweete grace she made answere when the King sued for favour: "I am not high in birth as would befit a Queene, but I am too good to become your mistresse," So there was no waye to compasse his desires save to wring a decree out o' th' Pope and wed th' maide, not a jot regarding her answer unlesse to bee the more eager to have his waye. Th' love Lord Percy shew'd my lady, although so frankly return'd, kept the wish turning, turning as a restless mill. Soone he resolv'd on proof of his owne spirit, doe th' Pope how he might, and securing a civill decree, privately wedded th' too youthfull Anne, and hid her for space of severall daies untill th' skies could somewhat cleare; but IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 87 when th' earlie sumer came, in hope that there might soone bee borne to them an heyre of th' desir'd kinde, order'd willinglie her coronation sparing noe coste to make it outvie anie other. And when she was borne along, surrounded by soft white tissew, shielded by a canopie of white, whilst she is wafted onwards, you would say an added charme were to paint the lillie, or give the rose perfume. This was onely th' beginning of a triumph, bright as briefe, in a short space 'twas ore. Henry chose to con- sider th' infant princesse in the light of great anger of a just God brought upon him for his sinnes, but bearing this with his daring spirit, he compelleth the Actes of Suprem- acy and Succession, which placed him at the head of the Church of England, in th' one case, and made his heires by Queene Anne th' successours to th' throne. Untill that time, onely male heyres had succeeded to th' roiall power and the act occasioned much surprise amongst our nobilitie. But Henry rested not the'. The lovelinesse of Anne and her natural opennesse of manner, so potent to winne th' weake heart o' th' King, awaken'd suspition and much cruell jealousie when hee saw th' gay courtiers yielding to th' spell of gracefull gentility, heighten'd by usage for- rayn, as also at th' English Court. But if truth be said, th' fancy had taken him to pay lovi'g court unto the faire Jane Seymour, who was more beautifull, and quite young, but also most ordinary as doth regard person all manner, and th' qualitie that made th' Queene so pleas- ing, Lady Jane permitting marks of gracious favour t' be freelie offered. And the Queene, unfortunately for her secret hope, sur- pris'd them in a tender scene. Sodaine grief e orewhelm- 88 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. ing her so viole'tlie, she swound before them, and a little space thereafter the infant sonne so constantly desir'd, borne untimely, disappointed once more this selfish mon- arch. This threw him into great fury, so that he was cruellie harsh where [he] should give comfort and sup- port, throwing so much blame upon the gentle Queene, that her heart dyed within her not long after soe sadde ending of a mother, her hopes. Under pretexte of beleeying gentle Queene Anne to be guilty of unf aithfullnesse, Henry had her convey'd to Lon- don Tower, and subjected her to such ignominy as one can barelie beleeve, ev'n basely laying to her charge the gravest sins, and summoning a jury of peeres delivered the Queene for tryal and sentence. His act doth blacken pitch. Ev'n her father, sitting amidst the peeres before whom shee was tried, exciteth not so much astonishment since hee was forc'd thereto. Henry's will was done, but hardly could hee restraine the impatience that sent him forth from his pallace at th' hour of her execution to an eminence neare by, in order to catche th' detonation (ation) of th' field peece whose hollow tone tolde the moment at which th' cruell axe fell, and see the blacke flag, that signall which floated wide to tell the worl4 she breath'd no more. Th' hast with which hee then went forward with his marriage, proclaym'd the reall rigor or frigidity of his hart. It is by all men accompted strange, this subtile power by which soe many of the peeres could be forc'd to passe sentence upon this lady, when proofes of guilt were nowhere to bee produced. In justice to a memorie dear to myselfe, I must aver that it is far from cleare yet, upon what charge shee was found worthie of death. It must of IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 89 neede have beene some quiddet of th' lawe, that chang'd some harmlesse words into anything one had in minde, for in noe other waye could speech of hers be made wrong-full. Having f ayl'd . to prove her untrue, nought could bring about such a resulte, had this not (have) beene accomplish'd. Thus was her good fame made a reproache, and time hath not given backe that priceles treasure. If my plaie shal shew this most clearly, I shall be co'tente. And as for my roiall grandsire, whatever honour hath beene lost by such a course, is re-gain'd by his descendants from the union, through this lovi'g justification of Anne Bulle', his murther'd Queene. Before I go further with instructions, I make bold to say that th' benefits we who now live in our free England reape [are] from her faith and unfayling devotion to th' advancement, that she herselfe promoting, beheld well undertaken. It was her most earnest beliefe in this re- markable and widelie spread effecte on th' true prosperitie of the realme, and not a love o' dignity or power, if the evidence of workes be taken, that co'strain'd her to take upon her th' responsibility of roialtie. And I am'fullie perswaded in mine owne minde that had shee lived to carry out a ll th' work, her honours, no doubt, had outvied those of her world-wide famed and honour'd daughter who con- tinu'd that which had beene so well commenc'd. I am aware many artes waned in the raignes of Edward and bloodie Mary, also that their recovery must have requir'd patient attention and the expenditure of money my mother had no desire so to imploy, having many other things at that time by which th' coffers were drayn'd subtly; but that it must require farre greater perseverance in order to begin so noble work, devising th' plannes and 90 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. ayding in their execution, cannot be impugn'd. Many times these things do not shewe lightness or th' vanitie which some have laid to her charge. However th' play doth reveale this better, farre, then I wish t' give it in this Cypher, therefore I begge that it shall bee written out and kept as a perpetual monument of my wrong'd, but innocent ancestresse. My keies mentio'd in the beginning of this most helpfull work, will follow in this place: * * * * As hath most frequentlie bin said these will write th 7 play, but th' foregoing abridgeme't, or argument, wil ayde you. In good hope of saving th' same from olde Father Time's ravages, heere have I hidden this Cypher play. To you I entruste th' taske I, myselfe, shall never see com- plete, it is probable, but soe firme is my conviction that it must before long put up its leaves like th' plant in th' sunne, that I rest contente awaiting that time. Soone wil my discypherer finde another kind of drama that shall give as great varietie to th' interiour plays as hath beene noted in the exteriour. It is a comedy having for its actors divers whom I have used to masque myselfe from sight, having a co'stant f eare lest my name should be found. . Ill would mj work fare if fate remov'd me ere they were finish'd, and ill my very life itselfe would have fared, if my plays, which I then composed, had bene knowne to be the work o' my hand, to Queene E , who as hath beene said previously, publiquely tearm'd herselfe a mayden- queene, whylst wife to th' Earle of Leicester. By th' union, myselfe and one brother were th' early fruits, princes by no meanes basely begot, but so farre were wee from being properly acknowledg'd, in our youth we did IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 91 not surmise ourselves other then the sonne of the Lord Keeper of the Scale, Nicholas Bacon, in the one case, and of th' Earle of Essex, Walter Dev'reux, in the other. Several yeares had gone by ere our true name or anie of th' conditions herein mentioned, came to our knowledg'. In truth, even then the revelation was in a measure acci- dentall albeit 'twas made by my mother her wrath over one of my boylike impulses driving her to admissions quite unthought, wholy unpremeditated, but when thus spoken to our hearing, not to bee retracted or denyed. But as wel' might all this sleep ev'n yet in the past as, farre from advancing the state of these sonnes, shee cast off all thought, or interesse in th' wellfare of her owne, to advance that of men no waye depending on her. So this i]l-advised disregard of the birth-right prerogative, pow'r, dignity and honour, by lawe Divine due to the princes of this realme, many times made evidente to us, moved my brother to the rash measure that was soone conceyv'd and as sodainlie ended. Without doubt, sense o' injustice stung a proud spirit like his past th' boundes of a patience at noe time remarkable or well foster'd by the atmospheare of the Courte. Furthermore noe thought so holds th' imagination of youth as that o' imperiall power. We crave Caesar's law- rell crowne at cost of sleepelesse houres in the night, and wearie toyle by daye. I can undertake such a feeling better then most, having had th' same interesse in a degree much greater, and in so vastlie better right or title. Th' comedie that I nam'd here is entituled somewhat boldlie, Solomon the Second. I am myselfe represented by him, th' seeker in the depth of learning, appall'd at th' daring of mine almost unpremeditated plunge but like that 92 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. antient heroe^ asking still for light to go on in my quest. Much of this is in my play of altogether different kind but not more suited in th' young hero of th' one, in my think- ing, then in the second which hath th' ending soe happy that it can, in right, have mention as one quite pleasing, if not th' best among my comedies. Herein is a short historie of it that will assist verie much in the task of bringing the play together as seen in all I have done. Th' scene oft is chang'd, yet the first is Gor- hambury: time early morne; day shewing faintlie in th' sky and low lights burning, partlie revealing a scroll, a penne, an ink-stande, many bookes having the leaves turned by a wind very softly comming in at th' caseme't. My foster-father standing by me thus spake: "Tell me, my Salamon, wilt thou embrace thy fatheres precepts graven in thy heart " with some of the following lines where the answer that I gave will also be found. After his exit is the soliloquy. The next scene openeth on th' faraway sea-coast duely putting my numerous devices into immediate examination, making many enquiries in th' fielde of nature concearning hidden things, beginning thus my Sylva Sylvaru' not yet fmish'd. Th' next in my owne chamber a second time, in con- verse, earnest and impassioned, with my mother persewing a similar theame. The fourth scene is in a publique hall, where one of the earliest of my dramas is on this poore stage. Half my heart goes out after fame, while half still longes, as hath justly approv'd itself e by th' foregoing scene, after greater or fuler truth, free from doubt or suspect. IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 93 To leave a true record of th' chiefe incidents of th' raigne of my mother, Queene Elizabeth, which for various reasons required secrecy, manie were my devices so skill- fullie brought forth that all escapt notice, simple as many o' them are, and as th' play is supos'd to bee that of Chris- t'pher Marley, much secret matte' doth masque i' th' play. Seeing th' good favour it doth win, my plan doth at once put forth such compleate forme that I no longer ask myselfe a question, but carrie forwards th' many dramas in much hast. The second act doth give the resulte, many of the authors, soe call'd, appeas'd by th' balm of gold when the plays were thought of noe valew, disputing fiercely when beholders aplaud, each claymeing the author, his lawrells. In these scenes is much wit ingaged^ many songs shall also bee used therein making th' action light and joviall. Place, where th' remayni'g acts transpire, is London. Those jests of Geo. Peele have place in acts twoo, three, part o' four (th' first portion) and a small part o' th' final] act. In scene two, act four, diverse strange acts by experi- ments in magicke are seene, for which the discyph'rer shal seeke in many places, chiefly in that youthly production which was entitul'd Friar Bacon and-so-forth. To this add a play that is entitled George-a-Greene and one named Faustus (to write these comicke see's) the David, as hath beene said, with two of the Shakespeare plaies Henrie Fift, with th' Taming o' th' Shrew. You will not finde this as oppressive as th' tragedy. Th' wittie speakers are more cheering [than] those statelier ladies or gentlemen of that early time, for various reasons, and a spirit of moving mirth informs each scene. * ISTow are your working keis ready for th' decyphering, 94 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. and if a rule long since conceal'd in the former publica- tions is well coii'd, I thinke it may ere many weeks come forth t' th' light. I will however, repeate heere, much of th' necessary rule and th' cheefe plannes, soe that clear notions may greatly ayd our inve'tio'. This doth some- what resemble a stone structure, or many, like as o' severall varieties, this red sand-stone, that granite, divers o' noth- ing but th' common stones o' th' field, yet all so arrang'd, so fitted for the intend' spaces, that no mistake doth seeme probable. The keie-words that are given, are to signify into which especiall structure th' numerous hewen stones are to bee built. The joining-words you see repeated so frequently, marke the portions which are to bee joyned together in th' perfect whole, .even as in the modell. It doth not rest with the stone-mason to shape or invent his planne, this is prepar'd to his use, so in this my tem- ple, the model hath not fayl'd to limne as bold a designe, which th' decyphere' must dutifullie, and with patience, bring to perfection. In several works I have giv'n rules, example to ayde you, keyes, various arguments, abridgments like to that given above, soe that my decypherer may write this- as easilie as any other work ca' be accomplished. In preparing th' portio's, they were separated by th' keyes that wil bring them againe to place, and as hath beene oft mentioned, this will set decipherers on their way; but th' joining-words must be found to match the parts togather. Begin at once, and doe not turne from th' taske I have assign'd you untill the whole be finished. In order to present the greatest number o' poemes to th' people of our time, while in this work, it may be made som'what easier in such portion' of this history as are not IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 95 of secret subjects; and in many such I finde it possible to use large parts in one place. Furthermore (e) th' work, becam' very ple'sing to such a degre that I conceal'd mat- ters most commonplace, and hannefull truly to none, I may say. One intends a lesson in Christian doctri'e, shewing out clearlie God's purpose, in the passion of the Christ. TV moderne poeme, working like a consenting o' human to th' Divine minde, soe followeth the ancient story that th' very spirit of a time farre past doth informe the whole. However, writing it in a secret manner had for its chief e object the use of an invention I greatlie wished to make th' best in use to transmit most wort-hie subjects. Being easy to insert, not hunted or recognis'd soe readily, the new Cypher hath requir'd les of patience and giv'n more ple'sure then others. If for my owne hidden story this now in your use lefte a doubt as to th' suspition' which rise within th' minde that the mater m.'gll be dangerous, I have as you 'know, from time to time, writte' such thinges in this also as were not secret, neythe' important; but The Pastorall is of -worth, of interest to the whole world, and no one should think th' worke put on this is (is) not wel spent. The story is to work on carefree, idole, and many times youthfull and unthinking ones who might like the story in poetry, if of melody and power, so stirri'g th' heart that it will seeme like to musick lightly stealing hither fro' th' courts of th' sky. Wise men, too, may find this story in its new forme goodly reading. You need not soe much ayde to decypher a work like this, for th' whole story is as it is related in the Holy Scripture. Five stanzos in Spenser give a planne, or model 96 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. of th' poeme, forming a prologue. Noe other being neces- sary, th' keies may now bee deciphered. * * * These are my keies. With purposes most devout I put forth this epick which hath for its theme a Divine Lord and Master, made like to man, that a sin-cursed world might be redeemed, and whylst my work is youthfull, in everie waye, it is sav'd from th' puerilitie one might ex- pect, by the hight th' subject, in its exalted, divine char- acter, still sustaineth in prose and poetry. It is in its nature farre above that forme which would expresse it, and as th' mighty musicke of the sea when uplifted by winde soundeth loud, though wind be soon stay'd, so my poeme maketh a load sound that doth come home to men's bosoms, albeit moved by a passing breath. The life of the man who was the living God, doth shew what all life might be, in unselfish ministry to th' worldes needes. It is -given to every man who will inquire of a Heavenlie Habbi regarding these things, as it hath beene given myself e to knowe what the power within, His spirit, hath come into this world to do. ISTone, I think, would make th' old plea that fate or chance doth control his owne nature, yet must hee owne some poAver that doth sway men's hearts and that holdeth our existence, the issues of life, in time which is now, and is to be. I, myselfe, am assured that to labour continually tho' nere bringing in my ripe'd grain, is *ny imposed taske. The only worke that I have completed, is concealed in Cypher which awaiteth another hand then this to bring it forth, as you know, and I am loath to shut its portalls. Oft I ask vainlie who will 'bee so endowed that none other can winne him from my work, since the most are so lacking in sufficient perseverance, that no severe or weary- IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 97 some taske is ere concluded. Some few think it disgrace- ful for men who boast godlike abilitie to give ore their hunt ere winning some trophic, yet their triumphes are not certaine. Soe weake and inconsta't is judgment, when thinges not familiar be submitted, first wondering much that there should be anything to be found out, then on the othe' side, marveling to thinke that th' world had soe long gone by without seeing it. But as floodes sweepe awaie such things as bee of light waight, leaving along the course heavy bodies, metals or rookie masses, in like manner the thinges which have suffi- cient waight when borne on downe the great River o' Time shall soone be found preserv'd fro' waters, although ofte very farre dista't, perchance, and amid newe scenes. At that time, sooner or later, my triumph must thrill my heart, for long hath the labour beene, and ofte difficile. The future may thus in a measure make good the past, so that I shal, perchance, recover [somewhat] with th' gener- ations that are to come. Th' hope maketh my work lesse heavy and m' heart lesse sadde. A play, which I am at present writing engaged upon, is entitled, because of the sweete lady who is the most important person of all having beene therein repre- se'ted, Th' White Rose o' Britaine. A large portion of the aforesaid is in that unfinished History of King Henry Sev'nth. It is prose chiefely. Th' parts which I intended to have versified doe make up such an important part of that great historic th' taske would have bin a difficile one, yet in manie written at an earlier date I have some large portions in both forms. This hath made my owne work greater, Jbut hath in nowise made my decypherer's lesse, inasmuch as the changes had againe to be made by him- 98 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. selfe while engaged in the deciphering, but vice versa. In example, if I have made the interio' epistle poetrie and the exterior not soe, hee must versifie, but if th' interiour be in prose and the exterior in verse his taske is light; if both be the same it is easy both to read and write. The keies will not be given untill th' history mentioned be finish'd but when he doth see the name o' Ladie Kath'rin-e Gordon in any of my workes, he may know that I speake of her, th' daughter of a nobleman of Scotland, mine Earle o' Huntley, by King Henry th' Sevent named White Rose of Brittaine, giving to her beautie th' titl'e assum'd by her husband, th' pretended Duke o' Yorke. She was in truth verie sweete and faire in forme and feature, gracing the name hee, dishonouring, speedilie lost. Her wifely devotion to th' false Duke, hath made many tender and most saddening scenes in the play. It winneth, also, much loVe and honor, and a wondering admiration, her heart shewing great strength and constancy. If God doth grant me a long life so to complete these varied labours, it shall bee well for th' world, since I am seeking not my owne honour, but th' honor and advance- ment, th' dignitie and enduring good of all mankinde. The discipherer may finde it strange I write th' history o' Henry the Seventh both as a play, for purposes of my Cypher, and as a prose worke to publish openly, but it may bee understood at some future day farre or neare. The reason will then approve (i) itselfe, for a play should make a linke in this ehaine and the history mention'd was requir'd by the King. Secret matters do not make up these interiour epistles, in many cases. Th' evidence such plays give^of being from th' brayne of one who hath for manie yeares made IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 99 himself acquainted with th' formes and th' methode or art of this dramaticke or representative poetry, maketh also my claime to o.ther workes, which have beene publisht in various names, undeniable. The worke despight a variety of styles, is mine owne. Manie will not thinke the masque a perfecte vizard, in- asmuch as a keene, sharp eye might possibly at some time have scene my features beneath it, yet it hath (ath) oc- curr'd so seldome nothing hath it endanger'd my secret which th' Cypher doth herein conceale, as 't hath ever a strong safeguard. Divided many, many times and freely scatter'd into my divers playes, prose writings, or poemes, truly no eye is so wel-seeing or strong it could -pursue a thread so fine without th' Qu. Th' keie-words so ofte mention'd are not noted by any save one wel-instructed in th' Cyphers which have beene consta'tlie employ'd in my worke. Even 'in the lesser Cyphers I have so shifted the course of all these stories that some must have turn'd aside. I' th' King Henry the Seventh you shall finde some por- tions to co'plete that plaie, but King Henry Eight is also requir'd, with Richard. Of most historicall plays note one mark'd pointe or feature. Some likenesse or paralell is to bee observed in them, also th' events of one raigne seeme link'd to those of time that precedeth or doth fol- lowe, as seene in such as I have sent forth from time t' time, for the purposes of my Cypher. The part in Richard [is] of so mark'd purpose, some might suppose a keye might not bee requir'd, but his wit would not be sufficient to put the portions where each doth belong when found, soe that little can be accomplish'd, as may bee seene; neyther would ought of secret Court mat- 100 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. ters ever bee so exposed in print nor ev'n personall his- torie as that in th' Cypher epistles cannot even yet have th' disguise torne harshelie off. Danger might shewe a head. Th' play, of which I have given the title, is not soe pleasing as it might be with sweete Katherine Gordon's love scenes, and th' Duke's happy songs of the gaiety of th' princely Court of England, but since all this may be seene to be a part of another play, it will bee thought well when completed that I robb Henry th' Sevent to add a grace to my White Rose. Of this I leave posteritie to judge, confident of th' decision whe' they shall both bee discyphered. I am in good hope, ev'n yet, I may see this work com- pleted in my owne mortall life, yet voyces sound to th' eare making th' prophesy, manie times repeated here as you probablie know, of a long future and of a land that is very far off. But for th' hope of a future, how could we bear the heat and burden o' th' daie. In my heart th' whispers of hope thus have long made a sweete song in th' night, that is more glad and joyous then anie love hath sung. All th' promises of th' world's glory and th' opportuni- tie to acquire gre't learning have sometimes made havocke within my minde, for I have yearn'd for th' honour that would now come to me if I had not, as you knewe long since, I thinke, beene cut off by th' whim of my roiall mother fro' princely station, shut from hope, then, or in naturall sequence of time and events, of succeeding to th' throne. By lawe th' kingdome should goe directly to th' first borne sonne. How right and Divine justice, hav- ing beene controled by a woman's unyeelding spirit, suf- IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 101 fer'd a change, is made cleare and evident heerein. Much of historie thus recorded will bee strange to every eye, yet it is soe true that it can but bring convictio' to all who reade. Th' principall Cypher is emploied for this, nor shall our worke thrive well if it bee not throughlie dis- cypher'd. Some might not trust a labour of yeeres to oblivio', and hope that it may one day be summon'd to take upon 't, one happy sunlit morning, its owne forme; yet doth some thought upholde me, so hopefully my hart doth cling to its last desire, I write on each "Resurgam," beleeving they shall, ev'n like man, arise from the dust to rejoyce againe in newnesse of life. In order to make this most complete assurance I sliall emploie other methodes since wee see that in miracle-working nought was done without meanes and note the result, having prepared alphabets of Latine letters soe that everie word may be used in pre- faces, in running titles, prologues et csetera. Sometime I intende th' use of these dotted letters as a Cypher-planne, compleate in itselfe, rathe' then a meere shift to confuse the decypherer. Th' latter I purpose using first in my history not yet finished, the other I wish to employ i' th' plaies whe' republisht. So few can bee put forth as first written without a slighte revision, and many new being also made ready, my penne hath little or noe rest. I am speaking of those plaies that were suppos'd Win. Shakespeare's. If these should be pass'd over and none should discerne th' secret epistles, I must needs make alphabets shewing th' manner of employing th' Cyp'er. However, I shall use letters that differ from th' type I heere emploie, not wishing, at pres- ent, to give a device that hath caused so manie sleepelesse 102 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. nights and such troubled dales, freely, even as one would tell the meaning of a riddle to a child, o' solve some school- boy's problems. I have shewne some wit heerein. Let him that would be a discypherer do the same and win the prize by strife, if indeed at all. When I first unburdened my heart o' th' story in this waye, I had co'stantlie much o' feare lest my secret bee s'ented forth by some hound o' Queene Elizabeth; my life might paye th' forfeit and the world be no wiser then before. But that danger is past long ere now and nought but the jealousy of the King is to bee feared, and that more in dread of effecte on the hearts of the people, then any feare of th' presentation of my "claime, knowing as he doth, that all witnesses are dead and the requir'd docu- ments destroy'd. Naturallie it must cause some i'quiry within the minde as to my intended course or what it would be like to bring to pass, for 'tis true that his clayme would ranke second onely to Elizabeth's issue. It must give some little pause to his mounting thoughts when his realme hath a claimant in th' aforesaid issue. For this worthie reason the secret should bee kept within th' hearts of th' men who will hold it sacredly, even as one doth a pledge. Future daies shall give th' world my worke and I shall then be contente. In my great Cipher you will se manie finished workes, besides the two mention'd not quite ready fo' this now in hand. As you know well, this must be done while it is printing. No time doth slip by unoccupied, and everie day hath its tasks. Without wearying of the selfe-assum'd but as hath soe many a time i' th' Cypher epistles beene IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 103 noted essentiall labours, our hand will work untill Death's blacke shadowe fall acrosse th' day. The exteriour plays will bee the sure proofe, if such proof e be necessary, that my word is th' truth; for no one hath ability to write with greater ease then myselfe, yet without much time spent on work [s] o difficult this should be a number very much smaller. But one who thinketh to rewrite my hidden matters, shall imploy his' time in th' same way, or his work shall come somewhat behinde mine in quantity. When all shal be complete th' plays number thirteen. Of th' histories I have already me'tioned, two are prose, mostlie, i. e., a life of my brother who bore th' cognomen Devereux, th' title, Earle o' Essex, that of Th' Raigne o' King Henry the Sevent; but I, having scene it emploi'd thus with very good effect, founde it very convenient here in th' Cypher playes, since i' th' interiour play th' forme is the same as that of th' exteriour, making my labours farre easier. For others, I have made use generally, as hath beene said, of verse, employing the same as found in the plays I have publish'd, but as many parts that appertayne to such interiour plays have been chang'd into a prose forme in th' fmish'd work, he who decyphers these should knowe somewhat of th' manner of turning from one forme to th' other. Th' White Rose, giveth a good experience in labour of th' kind mention'd, but in both the others of which wee now speake, hee shall see that it is requir'd of him, even there, if all be put [in] order. As there be two workes entitled th' Historic of R Earle o' Essex, some of the key-words will bee seene to bee similar, yet the parts are easily kept from confusion by th' 104 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. joining-wordes. They are alike dramaticall and historical!. One, however, is a tragedy giving that awefull death that still doth seeme fresh within my memory, as if no long night-vigils, comming betweene longer dales of labour, dull'd the quick sense. If it were noe longer past then yesternight, it could no' come before mee more distinctly then it, to-day, standeth forth, wringing my heart with paine that never ceaseth by day or night. O (jod, Father of all that dwell above or below, give blessed light from Thy throne on high. Shed cleere radiance from Thine owne glorie acrosse th' blacke night. No weary work can close my heart's doors 'gainst a Heavenly Guest. Lift Thou me up in gentle love and make Thy countenance to shine upon me as of olde. If it be decipher'd alreadie, it is reveal'd to my discy- pherer that remorse doth make my griefe so bitter, for my very life did hang on that thread, and by th' truth my brother was attainte, yet faine would I now chose an hun- dred shamefull deaths then ayde to send a brothe' into Eternitie. In this shall bee made cleare, in my owne history, for my rightfull and true justification before the world. "Farre off the day may be, yet in time here or hereafter, it shall bee understood. Though sorrowe is my constant com- panion now, joy shall come on that m'rning. Having these hopes, then, though many a sorrowe smite mee, my heart faileth not. In th' Cypher history, everything relative t' th' actes that can give truer conception o' th' whole, will bee as freely set forth as all must be at the great Day -of Judg- ment. When one doth write with feare of betrayal, hee car- IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 105 rieth the historie brokenly; hee warily doth turne to some other thought, not liking to appear occupied with a great theame, nor to value his labours. The hidden historie is somewhat like th' tortoise, that scarcely putt(t)eth his head out o' th' shell but he endangereth th' whole body, and my worke is lesse pleasi'g to write, or decypher, from th' shifts of many sortes necessarie to preserve th' secret. Th' principall history is, as you may suppose, my owne, yet it is soe much mixt or twin'd into manie others herein given, that it is a taske putting them together, as you per- haps well know. The work will not be complete until! my death. It may then fall short of many things I have long desir'd to chrystalize, as might be said, in a solide, unperishing rock. However, when Deathe shall cut short my toyle, there should bee another to carry it forward that it may lacke as little as possibl'. Th' labour shall be lighter then mine hath ever bin. Th' whole being of soe much worth, he cannot meetly omit any, or, as hath many times [been] me'tion'd, will- fully marre this planne save where for th' reasons knowne, much repetition is employ'd, at first, in order to aford many beginnings, so that the decypherer would most asur- edly find a door of such size, of so inviting outside appear- ance, he must, I doubt it not, enter to see what he perhaps may discover. If he shall publish what is conceal'd herein, let him winnowe it well; if he doeth it not the booke must displease which should afford pleasure. Manie might find this not like a well arrang'd work, carefully plann'd throughout. Such an opinion might rise from a slight knowledge of the design. I assure you that anie who will patiently work out the whole hidden history, minding well niy instructions, shal make much 106 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. progresse in th' knowledge that I desire to shewe him. which sufficiently rewards his efforts. Atchieveme't is itselfe a reward, yeelding sweetest renowme. This of which I now am speaking, putteth the decy- pherer in full possession of much knowledge he can in no other way obtaine, not onely the unpublish'd history, but newe meanes of transmitting, so that he may, himselfe, communicate all kinds of messages, according to his will and pleasure, and write "omnia per omnia," which indeed is th' highest degree of such art thou'h fewe have attain'd to soe unusuall knowledge for manie purposes. Any man who hath a mind that hath not only power but a faculty of invention, hath way of getting the humoures from his bloud, for it allaieth paine, when distrust, discontentment and secret woes, ills or wrongs one liketh not to speake of, may mildly worke and clear; but wounds bleeding in- wardly, may oft be the cause of ulcers yet more malignant, or imposthumations sowing seeds of future ill. So this Cypher shal be us'd to give my illes and tortured thoughts expression, albeit it doth without doubte, seeme incredible unto those that know not this principle that a man is [more] refresh'd and cheer'd within the mind by profiting in lesser matters, then by standi'g at a stay in greater. 'Tis not of others that I write soe much, as of experi- ences uncommon, and I hope to most, impossible, but this hath beene a me'nes of achievement of a labour for our fellowes few could performe. If my selfishnesse hath im- pell'd me more then was proper, I trust somewhat to knowledge of like errors in their conducte; these teach man to judge his brother leniently. A man must observe all sortes of forme or ceremony in his oute' life, but the heart hath its own freedome and hath no humane ruler. IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 107 However, himselfe is but meager end to a man's seeking when it is made first and chiefe, soe also, is hee a poore middle pointe, center and axis of least action. His soule is little akin to things celestiall, if like th' earth he stand- eth fast on his center, for things that have affinity with th' heavens, move on th' center of another. If hee would not be too earthy, akinne to th' dust, let him go forth in quest of knowledge, sowe wide this true seede which may beare fruit to give glad harvests in the Eones to come. This Cypher doth tell our motiv's for a labour we com- menc'd, long since, in so f arre, at least, as a man knoweth them himselfe. "Pis lacke of some predominant wish, a longing that putteth in order all others by its force, that doth render th' heart hard t' sound, or t' finde; but our predominant desire shew'd so plaine the greatest things, and the least, in life, as it doth nowe seeme, and illes can- not make the purpose weaker. Long yeeres ago, when th' Cypher in use at th' pres- e't, in th' workes we publish as those of authors that wee nam'd some time past, togather with all publish'd with th' name by which we are now known put upo' title pages, gave such a good asurance that secrets of great valew might safelie be entrusted to its keeping, strong wish to make it soe carry our invention itself e, to other times, also, made constante employment of it a necessitie. Although the resolution grew ever stronger, 'tis a thing rare, as you well know, this keeping of a purpose unalter'd through every change of a man's life, so difficult as to seeme im- possible; yet are we so firmly fix'd now in the resolve, it would be impossible for us to yeeld it up. In actus quartus, scena quinta, of the play entituled Salomon th' Second, th' motif clearlie sheweth. Every 108 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. hart knoweth its owne bitter, and a strange' intenneddleth not with its joy. As our story shall be fully decypher'd you may understand twoo things that doe not appeare in anie history written openlie, viz. Queene Elizabeth, her secret union with th' Earle o' Leicester whylst confined in London's Tower; also a story relative to early scandals, this Queene's intercourse with Seymour, Admirall of England, sent buzzing through all this realme. As a portion of this history, th' other sad tale giving th' storie of the unwell- come birth of the Queene's offspring, ourselfe, and Robt., late Earle of Essex, and also of. Ewe, may soone reveale what is our wrong that did make a meanes securing pub- lique triall of a waighty case, a necessity. Our light hath burned lowe, the beames of morning now burst upo' our longing gaze and put to flight the black night's dragons of brooding gloom. For ourselfe th' future bringeth surcease of sorrowe. Had we no secret labours to performe, gladly would we listen for th' footfall of Death, the somber herald; yet our wish is not as might afford our own life pleasure, till it, our work, be compleate, inasmuch as this is more trulie good and important, wee do nothing doubt, then the works which our hand openlie performeth. Th' want o' truth in items our pare't had recorded, would hold backe from th' world all true knowledge of this leaf of her history which doth concerne other lives' destiny nearly. . None write all that doth shew in our epistle; fewe have seene the that would bee like proofes o' Holy Writ; but of all which may by eythe' Cipher lend colour of good or evill to characters here pourtray'd, wee can give such confirmation as doth shut th' lips of those who still ask: "How could these things bee?" IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 109 It must be said, however, in passi'g, that a number of papers were seiz'd, and many have beene subsequentlie destroyed, so that we could not wel lay clayme to th' scep- ter, and establish it beyonde a doubt, ev'n whylst our parents be known to be royall and honourable, being truely wedded. Furthermore, being late, having like others who have bin drawne two waies lost much time in deliberation, th' face of our claime clouded, so that, questioning of England's prosperity, we doubted our proper right to sever Brittaine, fortunatelie united, but unfortunatelie king'd. Love hath th' good of the dear object most at heart, and with our true love of our kingdome on the one hand, there was th' ability to rule wisely and to edify and build up th' broken walls, on the other; also as hath beene mention'd before, a firm persuasi'n in our owne mind that th' pow'r of a soveraigne doth not shewe most in large domains, in having more people, but ruling with equity. A king shall be wise to bee great. Th' state is as th' sovereigne is; or as th' prince is, ev'n so are the people. With firm faith in simple justice for everie suitor, and divers ways by which one end, one goale, is won, this our desire hath slightly bent, or diverg'd, and turn'd upon tracks not so well made, so that our object may some day be attain'd, although fate haste to close th' doore of hope o' entering upon our true right. Bitter the portio' that was ours till our mounting spirit rose above th' Styx that encircled us, as in th' under world; Greeke poets have sung of the souls of ancie't heroes hem'd round, [that] tasted its waters, standing breast high in its blacke filth. In the workes which appeare bearing our plaine name on tli' title pages, this doth so manifest itselfe it needeth 110 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. not that wee pause to explaine. In th' early Essays and Philosophicall Workes these purposes do stand forth so plain, we thinke it is love's lost labour to point out the designe. However this is otherwise in th' secret part, for altho' our apparent designe must be our selfe-advancement, none can holde that to be unpardonable in th' royall prince whom destinie hath despoil'd in so great a degre. ,Th' desire to leave the world true, unbias'd history, doth so stirre and rouse our energies, that we doubt th' worst motif chideth the best by no such question. Palliation of that offence can bee found, and this long labor be awarded the honor due this invention. And also when our patient hand and penne, our un- wearied worker, our discypherer, hath done the part our devise imposeth on him, there shall not, we thinke, be any minde that doth waigh things justly, ill or well suited as the case may bee, that, seeing th' result of our labor, shall finde faulte or speake lightlie of our simple planne which may thus come forth in complete forme ev'n as created. In th' beginning our Word Cypher is such as will be decipher'd with most ease, after the designe shall bee fully scene, and the entire planne well learned. It was in use early. In many o' th' inventions this and all smaller ones one booke, or at the most two or three, contained all of a single worke. This is otherwise in our Word Cypher, inasmuch as the hidden history extendeth through works of numerous designes and kinds that have beene put out from time to time for severall yeeres. All workes we pub- lish'd under names, have some parts of the story, as hath beene said, for our whole Cypher plan doth possesse one feature much to be commended, that of perfecte safety. A storie cannot be followed untill all shall be found. IN NOVUM ORGANUM. HI Th' different stories being placed therein as our work was done, none can make an end untill th' links o' th' twisted chaine bee follow'd, now into one booke, now into another, as a river doth bende, or roads by manie tortuous waies, wind by these countrey houses, for no historic hath ended yet. None who began to reade this story, or worke out these Cyphers, came to an end of anything, because no part could be compleated untill all bee compleated. This doth grow from the plann itself e, the fragments being kept many long yeeres, small portions being used at one time, sometimes in our Spenser's name, Marlowe's, Peele's and Shakespeare's, anon Greene's, mine, also Ben Jonson's, affording our diverse masques another colour, as 'twere, to baffle all seekers, to which we shall add Burton's. As harried beasts haste to th' shelter of a boskie knolle when death seemes sure, soe doe wee, in danger, hide in these woodie hills, safe as any conie 'mid the rocks. This Cyphar will make the Word Cypher more plaine, and it is chiefly in ayding its deciphering that all others that have beene found do give some rules. It is our most im- porta't Cypher, having th' complete story told therein, but this, also, is of much use giving rules and instructions to aide in our worke, and setti'g forth th' arguments of many workes such as playes, poemes, that are onely the early translated workes, mentioned some time ago, in th' bookes wee published in divers names. It will make known t' posteritie the reall cause, as one moving in scenes that are thus given must surely under- sta'd better than others, of that strange devotedness that Queene Elizabeth manifested when my Lord of Essex ap- peared, (soon pointing 1 to a much scorned sinne) more, when knowne that th' newe favorite was by right a prince 112 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. who lov'd power more then ought upon earth. Also, led as hee then was, many courtly matters or great affaires were as puppet's gyrations or mad, jesting quips, winning his notice little. Most persons in my lord's liking, but least honoured, who served honourably, however, in the forraine fighting, will perhaps come under men's censure when the truth is made knowne; whilst most of our Irish troopes found they had not well understood th' intentions their leader had cloaked in his owne high spirit or bold will. He found simple and quite easy wayes of binding men to th' great treasonable undertaking, by a representation which con- tayn'd but a modified figure of truth. Men adventured fortunes soe unthinkingly, that mine of their hope was ruine against which nothing availed. It cannot now alter th' fates of anie, high or lowe, if the matter bee giv'n a full rendering as it is now found herein; but our great struggles in the interesse of Earle Eobert, have many most indisputed returnes ev'n as the Holy Scripture saith: "With such measure as ye yourself e doe mete it shall be ineted to you." But other Cyphe' plays co'taine all our historie so truelie recorded, our whole life can be seene spread like a map, wherein th' winding course of many streames are limn'd forthe. Longing to bee no more held unworthy, ac- compted unfaithful of those whom wee honor'd, and, worst of all ill that doth visit mortall, disregarded of posterity, it doth barre us from houres of despayring melancholic, and bringeth to th' minde a vision, so sweete and assuring, that wee have found a great solace in our work even when writ- ing th' story of our early life, or writing the harrowi'g exe- cution scene of that deare Earle Kobt, or Prince Eobt. as IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 113 we should speake the name of that brother, since 'tis well for us to make th' horror of that murther as familiar as other sensations. We mention this part of th' work frequently, because there nowe is nothing as importante, or at th' least as much talked of, as this event that was mildly pass'd over at first, least our royall mother should worke us a worse ill. Wee entreat th' decyphere by every arte of speech that wee possesse to heede our request, and decypher th' play of which wee speake ere the pleasure he hath felt in his taske may disappeare. If this be done faithlesse men will not jonge have th' daring to throw anie question of doubt upon our conducte. "When all is knowne and understoode, there will be nothing but approvall, where there was once harsh judgement. But of some little matters, appertaining rather to my- selfe then others, th' decypherer may followe his owne wishes. In our earliest play, is the happy spirrit of a young boy, subdued slightlie by our future into whose gloomie depths, plunging, wee tasted a bitternesse such as they have tasted who drinke the waters of Styx. When our owne worke hath beene compleated there will still remaine many things for a discipherer to doe if hee would winne reward. When our time shall come for our farewell to earth and all its gifts of joy or paine, our work must still proceed since our inve'tion is not yet discern'd. Our hope, however, is still strong, and faileth not, that ere long our story shall burst its cereme'ts and rise to make the truth known of all men. Then must our name bee knowne farre as man's foot hath trod, and that which hath beene lost in th' present, may be recover'd in th' future. 114 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. A man's life consisteth not, as the Holy Scripture saith, of eating or drinking but of that life which is within us, perpetuall as the Creator of earth and the heavens, and hee doth not cast off all care that he hath carried in his hart. He leaveth behind him some kind of labour and that taketh a hold upon th' future making ev'n th' life on this earth as enduring as the globe itselfe. This is true onely as th' labour shall bee a worthie one, that may well endure, for such things of similar proprietie to stubble, doth burn as hay and st'aw, and disappeare. There is vanity and some pride i' th' noblest humane heart, which drive his steps on in th' path he doth pursue, and 'tis but nature. As when sunnelight maketh th' plant growe upwar', so this light of nature driveth our shoots out in profuse, farre-reaching vines. His fruit may not ripen in his daye, and the taste may prove its quality unsavorie when it shall be brought into th' bins, but his owne it is, and it could afford none other ought of blame or prayse. When you have fully decypher'd this, you will not at once see our nexte worke, since 'tis publisht to co'ceale matters of a private nature. You will find therein more of our Word-Cipher. This to which you give th' greater part of your time, if you followe th' directions wee have hitherto imparted, is also emploied in it, having beene given to convey instruction concerni'g our tra'slations. It will co'taine large portions of all hidden epistles, for it is our bin or th' granary into which the various kinds and sortes gather'd are put awaiting the hands of th' sower, who, as you knowe, is our owne well beloved discypherer. Th' worke beareth the title of th' Anatomy of Melancholy and will bee put forth by Burton. IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 115 With this are many of those Shakespeare plays wee will ^oone bring forth, for our work cannot be carried to com- pletion without them. As wee have said many times, our bookes containe these twoo Cyphers, soe when our discy- pherer doth see anie works of ours, he knoweth at the first cursory glance, it doth speak to him verie forc'bly and make a plea for aide, that a prisoner may bee set free. It shall well repaye his time, and his hart shall rejoice in th' rich treasure that shall come to gladen and fill his thoughts. The matter is not at all times joyous but it is truth, in which men are counselled always to rejoyce. In our plaies, just spoken of as being in the name of a man not living, there is still more of this secret historic. By fol- lowi'g our good friend's advice we have not lost that maske tho' our Shakespeare noe longer liveth, since twoo others, fellowes of our play actor, who would, we doubt not, publish those playes, would disguise our work as well. This wil not, however, bee done untill a most auspicious time. Much work must be accomplished in a short time if manie new plays should bee added which doth now seeme desirable, inasmuch as it suiteth us farre better then prose or a lighter verse, whilst it giveth more satisfaction to our readers. Represented on our stage they give more pleas- ure still, and yield their author much more, be it in gold, or in honour, since th' theater is becoming more popular. Our plaies are of diverse kindes, historic, comedie and tragedie. Many are upon th' stage, but those already put forth in Wm. Shakespeare's name, we doe nothing doubt, have won a lasting fame, comedy, th' historick drama and tragedy, are alike in favour. For this reason wee have 116 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. resolv'd to write in these formes, tho' tragoedie doth come to th' sensiblest mindes mo' easily, because to such, high and tragicall things are more suited then those that are onely somewhat reall, yet much too nice and daintie, or too crude, vile and unfit. As for historicall drama, some principall and important facts require gracing with such elegancies as wee see many doe admire and praise. 'Tis th' changing and shifting movement that doth catch the eye, and please the imagina- tion, and plays of all kinds seeme manie times to give de- light in th' action, which have lesse attracted us in our study. Candidly speaking, it is better to consult men's liking then their judgements, but writing truthfully, there shall be no sacrifice here to hurt the sense or lose sight of the ayme. Wrongs are expos'd, be they ours or others, and ofte of unpleasantly plaine character. We stood close at hand and saw thinges with cleare eie to write them in this record, having desir'd with exceedi'g desire of the heart to be giv'n a righteous judgment in matters of most import and interest t' ourselfe, yet of worth, finally, to others, inasmuch as there would bee without [it] noe true historic left to other times. This shall bee th' great work of this age. Its fame* shall spread abroad to farthest lands beyonde th' sea and as th' name of Fr. Bacon shall bee spoken, that of his disci- pherer, joined with his owne, must receive equall honour, too, when this invention doth receive reward. Hee it is, our fellowe, who hath kepte at work despight manie a temptation to give waie, as some doe. With propheticke vision our eyes, looking into th' future, see th' day that give' these Cypher histories life and light. Glad must th' day be to all that helde our IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 117 story in closed bosomes that no harme should befall us. Love, waki'g in fear, shall rejoice with untold joy. It is a simple historic wee must owne, yet 'tis soe closelie inter- woven with many more knowne and renowned it shineth with reflex honour. Let him not grow weary nor leave following our queast if he would recover his rightes of reward. It needeth not that our eies look on this worke in order that it should come forth in the forme soe desired, nor that our hand pointe out each step his feete must tread, for the divers rules and directions leade him so that he shall not falt'r. It may bee well now as we approach the end, to give summaries of th' numerous workes which he will find in Cypher, and the methodes wee have us'd, of the plays we have not long since spoken in this place as thirteene in number, five of which are nam'd as histories, five as his- toricall tragoedies, three as comedies. Of all these, in one work or another^ keies and arguments -may bee found to aide the discypherer. Th' former are his indispensable guides, the latter ayde him greatly to re-build these broken, scattered pallaces. Th' histories are not completed, at this writing, in their exteriour masque. Comming latelie . into newe honours and newe duties wee have, as may be suppos'd, written much lease then formerly. AH interiour worke, neverthe- lesse, is completed, and made ready for th' incorporation into these divers works. Th' titles of these plaies here follower The Life of Eliz- abeth; The Life of Essex: The Life and Death of Edward Third; The White Eosse of Brittaine; Th' Life of King Henrie the Sevent; The Earle of Essex (my late brother); Earle of Leicester (our late sire); The Life of Marlowe; 118 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. Anne Bullen; Mary Queene o' Scots; Th' Seven Wise Men of the West; Solomon the Second; and The Mouse Trap. Besides the playes, three noteworthie translations are found in our workes, viz. Th' Iliad and Odyssey of Homer, and the ^Eneid of Virgil, togather with a number of lesser workes of this sort, and a few short poemes. There is also the story, in verse, of th' Spanish Armada, and th' story of my owne life. The last nam'd co'taineth the wooeing of our owne dear love, this Marguerite of these hidden love poemes, and the story of our misfor- tune in France, the memory o' which yet lingers. Wee have sometime found our other inventions of some worth, in our worke, and we have spente occasionall idole minutes making such maskes serve instead of the two Cyphers so much us'd, for of soe many good inethodes of speaking to the readers of our workes, wee must quite nat- urally have a preference, and wee owne that the Word- Cypher seemeth to. us superiour to all others wee have in- vented. We have, however, devis'd six which wee have us'd in a few of our bookes. These are the Bi-literall; Wordd; Capital Letter; Time, or as more oft call'd Clocke; Symbol!; and Anagrammaticke. The first, surely, needeth noe explanation if our inve'tion have beene found out; [it] demandeth fuller instructions, if it be still unseene; a most cleare playne ensample shall make it stande forth soe that hee who but runneth by shall reade. It doth re- quire some fine worke of the tooles as well as of th' minde. Next the great Cipher spoken of soe frequentlie, tearm'd th' most importante invention, since 'tis of farre greater scdpe, shall heere bee againe explained. More rules and instructions are necessarie then were needed in IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 119 any of the others, but in the first work, only such as will be readilie scene neede be sought. These now followe: Keyes are used to pointe out the portions to be used in this worke. These keies are words imploied in a naturall and common wave, but are mark'd by capitalls, the paren- these, or by frequent and unnecessarie iteration; yet all these are given in the other Cypheres also making the de- cipher's part lesse difficile. Next assort carefully all th' matter thus obtained and place it in boxes and drawers for timely use. There will, with a little observation, bee discern'd wordes which are repeatedly used in the same connection. These must bee noted specially since they form our series of combining or joyning wordes, which like the marks th' builder putteth on the prepar'd blockes of stone shewing the place of each in the finisht building, pointe out with unmistakable dis- tinctnes its relation to all other parts. This will shewe the necessitie of keeping everything ready and orderly. As whilst writing these interior works these keies and joining words did deter th' advancement, it shall work a contrarie effecte on this part of th' designe, and th' part of our ready decypherer is made easie for his hand, but his sight shal accordinglie have neede to bee as th' sight of th' keene-ey'd eagle, if hee would hunt this out, losing nothing. A part of our life relating and linking itselfe to another in a marked degree, as no doubt you know, required more time and studie then all the rest. Not onely was our Queene-mother concern'd, whose life we have dulie set forth in th' dramas mention'd, but one dearer, and as our memorie doth painte her, fairer still then the fairest of our 120 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. English maydens, sweet traitresse tho' we should tearme her, Marguerite our pearle of women. In order to indicate clearly the parts belonging to our early love story, wee emploi'd words to set off these por- tions, using those wee have spoken of in a number of Ciphers, such familiar and comon termes as th' mind and every faculty or power, memorie, reason and-so-forth, also heart with its affections, as wee tearme th' emotions or passions slightly understood, th' spirit and soule. These accompanying a key-word shewe that this portion belong- eth to the part of my history I have just mentioned in this waye. Th' same keies were employed and yet th' decy- pherer shal finde his guides thus indicated so easily, it would truely be difficile, as it doth appeare, to goe astray. For other workes our joyning-words are cleare, or those arguments so fully given, th' discyphering is onely a mat- ter of time and patience, but this would surely not be wanting in the man who hath worked out the Bi-literall Cipher that doth require soe much. In many places will there bee found instruction for the discypherer and in divers waies, so that, fayling one, he should see others, as hath noe doubt beene discov'r'd since this Bi-literall Cypher hath made everything cleare, shew- ing the workes that joyne, and giving ayde as often as it may bee requir'd. The designe, however, being so com- pleat it should seeme a thing that men of keene eyes and quick rninde may discover readily and pursue with ease. Of my devices nothing excells that of th' employment of words in common use to direct our decypherer. Tables should contayne all such because no man's memorie can long retayne such a number of words; but all will clearlie see how great' an advantage it must bee to bee able to IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 121 masque all our divers pen names in common tearmes, so iiaturallie, that not a man of common intelligence will sus- pect the presence of anything of a secret nature. The preparation and distribution of th' Cypher wordes required much time and this time was soon at my disposi- tion. Th' numerous works that will be sent forth, soone, will prove the truth of my assertion of a ceaselesse indus- try and an unflagginge zeale. No one living in the midst o' th' tumults and distractions which are found in our great townes could (could) better hold to a purpose, but a few years younger, in truth, then I, for it stirred within me when I first was told of my great birth, and tooke forme shortly after that scene at th' Court of our mother which led soe quickly to my be'ng sent to France in th' company and care of Sir Amy as Paulet. It waighed on me con- sta'tly, untill I devis'd a wave by which I could communi- cate this strange thing to th' world, as you know, and my restlesse minde unsatisfied with one or two good Cyphers, continually made triall of new contrivances, in order to write the true story fully, that wrongs of this age bee made right in another. As my work hath beene, from my earlie youth untill of late, one of unflagging intereste, I have made great pro- gresse in Cypher-writing, finding it pleasing at first, I may say manie times mildlie exciting. But one must wearie of th' one now in employment on accompt o' th' unchangeablenesse of the worke, for variety is almost im- possibl' to this kinde of Cyphar, and nothing availeth to applie witty invention in this wave, if it bee not clearly shewn, for without helpe th' most constant of discypherers must finde many shifts weariesome, as it must require more attention, and therefore some of my labour may be hidden inost compleatly from every eye. 122 , BI-LITERAL, CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Whilst it is th' object of such work, in its nature and use, none could suppose I desir'd this to be soe conceal'd that no future discypherer may lift the vayle from my secret. If that should occur, numerous devices which have grown in many directions, this waie and that, but secretlie, and like a root turning in th' soyle as it extend- eth, have a grave in my work where I thought onlie of giving hiding for a little. Life is too precious, its dayes too fleeting, to be so used if noe time should ever come to roll away from th' door of th' sepulcher this great stone. It is not easie to reveal secrets at th' same time that a Avail to guard them is built, but this hath beene attempted, how successfull it shal be, I know not, for tho' wel con- trived so no one has found it, the cleere assurance cometh onely in th' dreemes and visions of th' night, of a time when the secret shall bee fully reveal'd. That it shall not be now, and that it shall be then that it shall be kept from all eyes in my owne time, to bee scene at some future daye, however distante is my care, my studie. With manie things in hand, now, I devote somewhat less of my time to Cyphers, and had I not in th' Cypher, giy'n my good assistant promise of many little things to aide him, this should not continue. Since the part which doth containe the storie of my birth is one I cannot have lost, it is frequently giv'n. Th' directions to th' decipherer oft occur, for it cannot bee that hee doth decypher everything I write, yet if but a part be done, it would bee sufficient, doubtlesse, to reveale th' history; but I must strive to soe double th' rules as I write, that no failure shall bee possible. At the first, as- sur'd that th' interesse doth increase each houre, change to matter lesse personall, led would-be delvers o' hidden secret matter, to followe noe longer. IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 123 STo doubt my wanderings much resemble the chatter a senseless creature of Caliban's temper and nature might give out if hee were to speak in a secret manner, but such is my designe. And it hath so well preserv'd my historie for many yeares fro' th' sight of inquiri'g eyes, that it seemeth at last necessarie, and but little danger doth lurk in th' revelation, to put forth a full treatise on my wor- thie Cyphars to shew that to use all ordinarie methods of giving one's message to th' world suficeth not, if one wish to pick out and choose his owne readers. Therefore there is soone to bee a little work which shall set cleerlie forth these artes that have held many, many a secret from my times to carry it on [to] th' great future. If there bee none to decipher it at length, how many weary days will have beene lost; yet such is the constancy of hope in our brests we hold to th' work without rest,, firmly trusti'g that coming times and th' future men of our owne, and other lands, shall at last rewarde these labours as they soe manifestly shall deserve. Though it shal not happen in mine owne day, this assur- ance that it cannot fail to come forth in due time, maketh weary labour lesse tiresome. It is noe doubt long to wait r but whatever should have beene ordain'd by that Supreme Governour of our lives doth give such a satisfaction, it doth fully sustaine and succour th' heart, so that it sur- mounteth all fears. If some call it vanitie, I must make th' wise man, his timely replie, for all things upon earth are truelie vanitie, and the spirit thereby is vext. What remaineth to man at th' last of all this labour and care? Ought? Shall he leave the dearest labours, th' great designes, th' marvayles that he hath wrought, and beare from hence to that new life a memory onely, or, it 124 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. may be, even Jesse? Must hee loose his hold upon all earthlie objects to take hold on that that is eternal? Must hee part from all and leave all? Ay; and yet, if his arts survive 'tis wel as hee can naturallie wish. If hee may have knowledge, when th' last long night of death oppresseth him, seeling the eyes and shutting from him the blessed light of day, that the things that he loved died not also, it wil not bee utter losse, utter oblivyon. Shall not his soule live after him? Surely; nor can you or I have that farre sight that looketh into the future, and we knowe that by the Divine wisdome of the Ruler Su- preme, 'tis soe ordain'd. But one thing may serve well when we take departure, and that is, to leave many and widelie varied work'; it could not bee that nought could bee .sav'd from a vast quantitie, and ought th' hand can produce shall have a greater worth at such a distant daie. With many a wish in my minde for honours, successe, approvall, I put these things away, as th' Saviour put Satan behind him, and do not for a moment alter my fixt deter- mination to make good this time, and this labour, at some future day. But of this I have spoken so many times already, I fear that my patient, but not super-humane as- sistant may have become awearie, and have giv'n over th' pursuite of this strangely hidd'n story. It might surely bee lease tiresome to him if my story might be made cleare in a single worke, but there would have bin such danger, in soe writing out my secret, it would but bee well commenced before it would work my ruine. For the good of all these companions who have follow'd my fortunes in th' shifting, changing scenes at th' Court, and elsewhere, as well as for my advantage, I strive to continue th' history; yet duties of office do rarelie IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 125 permit me to doe much with this work, which will ac- compte for a few of th' mistakes that have occurrM. But, truth to say, severall of the plays that I am about to put forth are yet incomplete, and I am, too, much occu- pied with a work on the life of my m'ternall great grande- f ather, which doth include most of my Cypher plaie, The White Rose of Brittaine. Many earlier plaies are to bee somewhat alter'd in order to have some portiones of my historic put into th' Cypher. 'Tis of th' great key-word Cyphar of which I am speaking, chiefe of these inve'tions, for by th' use of it, I may make a work of beautie, as you know, while some of these being of such [nature] that they are not easily kept in minde are easily overlookt like the way of ships on the ocean. But by no other then this, which I hope you are at pres- ent following, doth anie epistle continue in our worke without change. If I wish to make such a triall of my work as must occasio'ally be done, you can doubtleese understand it requireth onely a few dayes to make th' ex- periment. With a little time and patience, therefore, I can easily finde what th' epistle is. In many I have plact rules and instructions but in some parts I have written th' thoughts haunting my hour of rest. If th' decypherer is to finde out th' rules, each part must convey to him a secret message. If it shall not be found in every part. I could have little assurance of any of my epistles coming forth, since no one might accidentally come upon widely scatter'd fragments. Bi-literall Cypher is unlike others in respect to this, for while it doth change the subjectes more frequently than anie other, its course is continuous. If my owne storie be written out fullv and all rules and instructions for a 126 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. decyph'rer in th' other inventions be made out, it may then be left til such other decyphering shall have beene finished as hath beene most frequently mentioned, taking care in no case, or for noe reaso' of lesse value, in fact then mat- ters of prime importance, [to] let anything distract your minde. And if since making the discoverie of this that is here used there have beene found many an exhortatio' fervent- lie beseeching you to continue your labours, consider these doubled. I, [ay] let this great number bee so increast that it cannot bee forgotten, that th' cheef e of all my in- ventions is the key-word Cypher. Therefore I wish to have it given first, and most, of your time after this worke shall have come to an end. Whilst it is true regarding that Cypher of which I speak, much must yet be written, and that none can learn how to decypher it till full instructio's may bee found, I am giv- ing great attention to th' completion of severall plays that containe all th' instructio's, time will not permit the great catalogue to swell to much greater proportio's; but 'tis trulie colossall already, and doth approove my tirelesse spirit. The work hath occupied so much time, it is more as a habit than a matter of free choice but for other good and well set forth purposes this work hath soe con- tinued. Also new devices were to have beene made plain, but the complete illustration of these artes sh'll be found in some later work, for it hath given me no little ple'sure in the imploiment of these contrivances, knowi'g so much of th' Cypher would no doubt be a sealed booke, even to the decypherer of the first partes. And no decypherer will make of this a cause o' complainte, for it affordeth to him IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 127 a newe mysterie and the minde of man ever doth rejoice most in that forme of search that hath a relish of the chase therein. Therefore, whilst I am still in very good hope that my last contrivance is not solv'd, noe feeling of anie sort, save kindlinesse, is in my soule toward my decy- pherer. If he discov'r the key of my newe invention, himself e, before it bee explain' d, it shall redound to his credit. Much as hath beene the case in all discoveries worthy of note since man's creation, this may furnish him soe much de- lighte, whilst it doth occupie his minde, that time shall seeme short. In my History of Henry Seventh this shall all bee explain'd. But as I doe not accompte th' time wasted which one may soe imploy, soe difficult is my taske of publishing my plays under th' name of one who hath departed, manie being out already, but an almost equall number new, that much of my thought in leasure houres is upon the questio' how it may bee done. For the purposes of the Cypher it is requir'd that no alteratio' be made, for that manner that I have adopted shewing different workes by common words must not suffer unnecessarie change. The discipherer will doubtlesse need all the assistance which can thus be giv'n nor could I now so alter the new, without making a correspo'sive change in that now in print, a thing soe nearly impossible as to be out of all questio'. Taking carefull thought of these conditions, I have made choyce already of meanes to give great ayde to a dis- cypherer, while no doubte of the matter or motive is prob- able. To make use still of many masking names at th' same time, without some way of instructing my discy- pherer, might resulte in the losse of more labour at length 128 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. then I have yet expended. It openeth a new invention in a place well occupied, as shall be seen, with one little pe'ceyv'd. It cannot bee that bread which is cast on waters taketh othe' then a cours' that is intended. How might it then give promise that shall requite all who soe obey th' holy teaching found in God's sacred Word? "Caste thy bread," thus it saith, "upon those surges." Ay, soe must ye doe, if yee would have it back once more when many dayes and moneths, I, [ay] and long, long yeeres are swept into the abyss of eternity. Without one question, then, my owne hand must send foorth upon the wast of waters, fruit and nourishing boughes from fruit-bearing gardenes, that one finding so rich and abundant harvest, may trace them backewards as hath already beene mentioned, to this garden of mine wherein all have come to perfection of rondnes. 'Tis my Cypher that is now my constant and more im- portant labour yet 'tis so much to the banishment of care it might well bee thought lesse for one's personall busi- nesse, then as th' unbending spirit to these amusements, as it must bee knowne to my decypherer such a thought doth sort with my wishes and in this fortunate misunder- sta'di'g doe I owe the safetie of my work. It is not so difficile to keep a secret while it shall bee unsuspected because none turneth over so much, bookes that seeme to have but a simple and single method of im- parting his thoughtes, or th' results of his experiments ; but if once the booke hath an ayre of mystery, noe secret can bee secure and safe in such keeping. I thought not, however, to make a device so compleate as my most worthy Bi-literall has now proven, and its com- pletenesse may make it very difficult to shew forth this IN NOVUM ORGANUM. 129 designe clearlie, yet at the same time guard the treasure that it keepes. It certaynly requireth as much wit as th' first inventio', though much lesse pleasure cometh therein. It is so much in my minde that I speak thus oft about it, and take my decypherer into confidence, as it were, which doth shewe one of those strange weakenesses of soules in- drawn, like mine, since it needeth noe proofe of the fact that a demonstration would be wholly unnecessary if there were anie man living in the world who could understand these things here hidden; but I speake or write as if the discypherer sat at my side to take part when requir'd in th' deliberatio's. Many times I have a sense of my kinde com- panion's presence, yet at the bottome of every other desire, is a hope that this Cypher shall not have beene scene or read when my summons shall come. Therefore tranquil- lity is an impossible state, and I am torn betwixt feare that it bee too well hid, and a desire to see all my devices for transmitting this wondrous history, preserv'd and be- que'th'd to a future generatio', undiscovYd. The wish that none of my day may discover the Cypher soe happily occupieth my owne thought, there is time for hope to try her wing in that uppe' aire above th' skies, where it is so clear and still th' evills of life are forgotten, feare, for a time, conquer'd and co'fin'd. Will my part in the task be anie the lesse a great benefite to mankind, or a worthy monument to my own name, because secret? 'Tis the king, or prince if the stile do better please some who are of co'viction that an uncrown'd soveraigne hath no right to such a distinction, that speaketh, and it is true history that will be herein related. In th' Parasceve that followeth, a number of short tales of th' life in our royall parent's reigne must be sought. 130 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. These have never yet beene put where th' discypherer's arte would be of use, but royall power giveth a luster to these quaint tales. Do not, pray, relinquish your work to decypher others wherein fairer labour doth seeme to lie. There are seasons for all to be brought foorth, as you shall observe. Crowd nothi'g further when the discovery is fully completed, I beg, till this and th' two other Cyphers of which I have spoken most, have come to sight. There may be a part of my tale concerning a Newe Atlantis printed, a part onelie being used in the other Cypher. It hath as yet bin in question, as I may say, there having bin some plans in my minde which have beeue, as we say, discuss'd throughly with deliberation, weighing all the^o's, and manie con' s, to make it cleare to myselfe what will be th' result. Will th' discypherer be thereby really ayded and made joy full in a work alreadie prepar'd for one folowing, from whom must be requir'd more dutious, obedient, co'sta'cy of devotion of all his powers then might naturallie bee expected? This must ever continue unto my minde an open question, hap- pily or otherwise, yet nightly is it allowed a triall. But there must come lesse interessed judges to court. Men cannot sit in judgement, to passe sentence, who wish to adventure their fortunes both as plaintiffs, and on defense; all are too much given to that self-love borne in the hearts of weake mortalls. There can bee no correct opinions given, if the judgement bee warpt or twisted, but the man's wishes rule his minde; therefore, I say, the wis- dome might bee question'd of anie decisions which I might reach, or, when all hath beene said and done, I might myselfe be no better pleased. There are more such questions then can be answer d EN NOVUM ORGANUM. 131 here in th' time that doth remaine, yet I beleeve my dis- cypherer to be much accustomed to these debates, a wordy musi'g, if this paradoxe will be more cleare. It shall bee scene that to my minde the discypherer is th' modest co'fessor, who listeneth behind a lattise to what I do impart; and so discreet is he, a word doth nere circulate which hath beene given to his eare. Indeed he is to me a friend who can reach out his hand across the abysm of the ages, and give such aide as none present hath given, or in truth can give to me, in labour of wondrous pow'r, inasmuch as herein is writ a history of that most remarkable royale daughte' of the Tudors who united qualities little esteem'd, to traits worthie of the' soveraigne of soe important a nation as England Eliza- beth, daughter of Henry the Eighth, and therefore th' grandedaughter of him who was wise enough, or had such wise counsel to guide him, that he established himselfe upon the strongest claime, but with a prudent forethought, learn'd from earlie experience, caste behind him that enticing one of conquest. If my title were given away too weakly, 'twas through wisdome gained in part from the lesson that hee thus earlie acquir'd, i. e. that kingdomes got by conquest may be lost by the same. Without doubt I should repente employement of such meanes when it became a necessity to maynetain as large an army to holde th' power as to win the same. JSTot being a souldier, though not whollie oppos'd in my naturall temper to armes, I am well inclin'd to knowledge, which is to my minde farre more satisfactory then anie honours. It hath beene ere this very well said: "A soldier's name doth live but an age, a scholar's unto eternitv." 132 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. And paine which is surely th' constante attendant of studies, better suiteth with this life then mirth and follies, and hee that can say to pompes and vanities, "Tempt me not," conquereth all other temptation. No one can sub- due worldlie passions without most worthy demonstratio' that power is beneath th' apparent morall weaknesse. 'Tis to myselfe and my discypherer that I am now making this confession, not to th' world, and it needeth not to saye to one of his discernment, I speake to give some one beside myselfe entrance to the Councell Chambe' of my heart. True it must not weigh much, for 'tis th' restlesse heart that is thus making frequent argume'ts with itselfe, ask- 'ing, with Pilate, "What is truth?" By no meanes shall wordy arguments proove that one who knoweth his birth is royall, but is barr'd from succes- sion, can soe fix his thoughts on things of price, that there are noe mome'ts of regret. The booke shall tell all. In perfect trust, to you I bequeathe my labours. FRANCIS BARON OF VERULAM. IN THE PARASCEVE. 133 THE PARASCEVE. Speculative thoughts doe still their owne unsure hope relate, yet must I undoe the story of our times soe ofte spoken of, tho' it is folly in a royale prince whose birth- righte hath, like Esau's, bin given to another, to spend his time in opposing the wrongs of his unblemished heart to such as would jeere or laugh at his paine. There is one in whom wee may not onelie confide with childlike faith a spirit seldorne seene but upon whom we may put off a worke too important to lye hidd'ii longer then necessarie. This we neede not say is our unfaltering, ever constant, decyph'rer. In the' following pages, as we previously mentioned, will this historie be co'tinued. Be faithfull till the last page shall have beene reach'd. This Aphorisme somewhat co'tayns of interesse, for it doth reveale to my faithful friend the name I should beare. This is Tudor. Since Elizabeth was my mother, 'tis my owne lawfull cognomen, and by right my brow deserv'd th' rigoll, my body roabs of purple. It is a truth little knowne, that these things were not well understood, but none doubt witnesses and papers of such a nature as those seen or heard co'cerning th' same. In nine places is this told in some Cyphe' or other, that it cannot well bee omitted. Indeed, if too many times seen, this discreet and patient discypherer must make wise selec- tion and leave that which hath previously beene work'd out, but th' decipherer should omit none of the pages since it is quite important that he should know what is co'tain'd in everything published. This now sufficeth by waye of directions. To resume a narratio' o' th' event of this secret marriage. 134 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Whilst my mother, the Queene, lay prisoner in London Tower she wedded the Earle, my father Robert Dudley of whom it is suppos'd the young princesse had become so enamor'd that, to produce a like passion in his heart a love philter, which an assista't by some strategia administer'd, was made. To such a tho't can I never set my seale, tho' there be in my minde no doubt of her great fondnesse for my youthfull, well-favor' d sire. They came into our world, not th' same daie onelie, but the same houre. To the phantasie soe abnormall as the Queene's, this was proofe of destiny. It might perhaps be a questio' whether a Divine foretho't determin'd all that grew from that acte. Some would ascribe a part at Jeast to evill spiritts. Be that as it may, one fact doth remaine, shee was wedded, as hath beene said, and he that addresseth you in these various Cyphers was borne a prince o' our mighty countrie. Now must he humble the pride of his naturallie haughty spirit to obey mandate of his inferiours, but mankind must know, tho' this have come upon a prince of the realme in former times, th' injustice is great we may say, beyond all fortitude of mortal minde to endure. Another sonne was in due time borne, whose spirit much resembled, in th' maine qualities, that of our mere, but who, by th' wish and request of our fathe' bore his Chris- tian name, Robert. Hee, reared by Walter Devereux, bore naturally that name, after a time coming into th' titles of Earle o' Essex and of Ewe. The desire of our father, who remain'd a simple Earle although he was wedded to a reigni'g queene, was to make these affairs so well understood that th' succession should bee without a question. To our mother noe such measure was pleasing. By no argument, how strong soever, might IN THE PARASCEVE. 135 this concession he obtain'd, and after some time he was fayne "to appeal the case for us directly to Parliament to procure th' erowne to bee entail' d upo' Elizabeth and th' heyrs of her body. He handled everiething with greatest measure, as he did not presse to have th' acte penn'd by waye of anie declaration of right, also avoiding to have th' same by a new lawe or ordina'ce, but choosing a course between th' two, by waye of sure establishment, under covert and indifferent wordes, that th' inheritance of this erowne, as hath been mention'd here, rest, remaine and abide in the Queene, and as for limitation of th' entaile, he stopt with heires of th' Queene's bodie, not sayinge the right heires, thereby leavi'g it to the lawe to decide, so as the entayl might rather seeme a favour to her Elizabeth and to their children, then as intended disi'herison to th' House of Stuart. It was in this waye th't it was framed, but failed in effect on accompt of the ill-disposition of th' Queene to open and free acknowledgme't of th' marriage. But none could convince such a wayward -woman of th' wisdome of that honorable course. Yet I am perswaded we had wonne out, if her anger agaynst the Earle our father who ventur'd on matrimony with Dowager Countesse of Essex, assur'd no doubt it would not bee declar'd illegall by our warie mother had not outlived softer feelings. For in the presence o' sev- erall that well knew to whom shee referr'd, when she was ill in minde as in body, and th' councill askt her to name th' king, shee reply'd, "It shall be noe rascall's sonne," and when they preas'd to know whom, said, "Send to Scotland." FRA. BARON OF VERULAM. FKANCIS BACON. HENRY THE SEVENTH. 1622. As you are beginning now to decypher a most interest- ing play, a portion of which doth concern my history, you get in a newe maner keyes, or signes, anie eye not blinde will only too truly note: or, indeed, not a newe Ciphe' but th' first modified. I will, however, as much change my newe, for what be most oft observ'd doff greatlie the ayde and protection, reall and known, o' unfamiliaritie. Marke t, f, c and e. See that in no place have th' accents on a K at midle of th' front where this joyneth t' th' uprighte, yet overturn'd it. Th' letter hath still only such a use, in our modell or forme, as it might in or by vertue of its form. But we do contrive t' make most pecu- liar, artfull shiftes, that so much shelter our most evident pretensions, it- is a subtler or swifter mind can followe us then most men do possesse. Take care for all of our accented letters, and do not bafHe us. That I, by curious, noteworthie skill, so hide this secret, it fullie proveth t' everybody of just temper, somewhat better then by words, how much greate' valew th' inne' portions possesse then th' part scene. Bacon is to many only a great autho', quick with his writi'g. None see or mark, in most cases, the plays, yet i' imagination suppose the offendi'g scenick playes some task a g'ild should naturalie do, not my rude invention. I have produced four from ancie't Latine and Greeke. Many such sorts burrie the works that I have said must bee written soon. Your reall art, that may truly require 136 IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 137 th' best of your time, is, however you meet m' requests, thus of most acco'. It is a subtly plann'd Cipher that I have us'd with a most free [hand] to cast off gloomie reflexions. You can marke these chang'd: capital IF, (?, L, D c, small, as you alreadie have some time noted, is at present, if unchanged by dots, in accorde with all, but b, d, g, disti'ctly alter their stile. After they attach some marke, all our letters (as if one ha' struck a gale) turn keel; a then becometh b, and b, a. Your quick eie catches, soon, all this that aids them greatly in working th' storie out in full; but in so much of th' Cipher as is easilie follow'd, it is too transparent. If, therefore, you finde it mo' trieth or co'fuseth, seeke in a portio' of our historick works (in th' Iamb) a law relating to th' double Cipher, as it, here, would at once bee seen. These are th' plays, which you shall yet find, that Rawley would urge us to present, in the name you will alwayes honor ere it shall receyv' th' lofty but worthie title belonging t' it better, I doubte, then when our story's written. The fact very surely proveth most fully how much envie maketh home both i' a' elevated minde, and in th' vulgar. I am indeed by vertue of my birth, that royall, thoug' grossly wrong'd son t' our most glorious, yet most faulty I ca' find no stronger terms Queene Elizabeth, of th' stocke that doughtie Edward truely renowned. O' such stock Henries Eifth, Seventh and Eighth, historic battle kings, came, like branches sent from the oakes. My true name is not as in some backe pages it was giv'n, but Tudor. Bacon was only foster parent to my early youth, yet was as loving and kinde to me as to his owne sonne, carefull o' 138 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. my education, and even aspiring to my high advancement. But to Mistresse Anne Bacon, ever quick with her sim- pathie and wise to advise, do I owe a greater or warmer gratitude, since she did much more truly and constant! ie guard, guide, protecte and counsel! me. Moreover, to her I do owe my life, for though she did but rear me, not being, de facto, my mother, it was by her intervention that the houre of nativitie did not witnesse my death. Her Ma. would truly have put me away privilie, but Mistresse Bacon, yearning ove' helplesse baby- hood, saved me, having held ove' me a hand o' protectio'. My attempts in after years to obtain my true, just and indisputable title of Prince o' Wales, heire-apparent to th' throne, must not however bee thought or supposed to indi- cate that I held myselfe disinteressed o' these obligations, offer' d affronte to these kind benefactors, or in any waye conducted myselfe in such manner as would either cast reflexio's upo' my breeding, or doe discredit to my birth. It may clearly be seen that it was but the most common- place of ideas an actio' barelie ambitious, because 'twas simply naturall. But it fail'd most sadly, for th' would- bee Virgin Queene, with promptnesse, (not liking our peo- ple's hearts to be set upon a king) before my A, B, 6"*, even, were taught to me, or th' elements of all learning, instructe' my tutores t' instill into my young minde a desire t' do as my foster father had done, aspiring to high political advancement, look for enduring renowne there; not dreaming, even, o' lack wherein I should looke for many honours, since I was led to think I was borne t' nothing higher. Of a truth in her gracious moodes, my royall mother shewed a certaine pride in me when she named me her IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 139 little Lo. Keeper, but not th' Prince never owned that that be truely the rightfull title I should beare, till Cecill did sorely anger her and bring on one o' those outbreaks o' tempe' against one of th' ladies o' her traine who, foolish to rashnesse, [did] babble such gossip to him as she heard at the Court. F her look much malicious hatred burn'd toward me for ill-avis'd interference, and in hastie indig- nation said: "You are my own borne sonne but you, though truly royall, of a fresh, a masterlie spirit, shall rule nor, Eng- land, or your mother, nor reigne ore subjects yet t' bee. I bar from succession forevermore my best beloved first- borne that bless'd my unio' with no, I'll not name him, nor need I yet disclose the sweete story conceal'd thus farre so well men only guesse it, nor know o' a truth o' th' secret marriages, as rightfull to guard the name o' a Queene, as of a maid o' this realm. It would well beseeme you to make such tales skulk out of sight, but this suteth not t' your kin'ly spirit. A sonne like mine lifteth hand nere in aide to her who brought him foorth; hee'd rather uplift craven maides who tattle thus whenere my face (aigre enow ev'r, they say) turnethirom them. What will this brave boy do? Tell a, b, c's?" Ending her tirade thus she bade me rise. Tremblingly I obeyed her charge, summon'd a serving-man to lead me to my home and sent to Mistresse Bacon. "That mother of my dark Atimies shall free my name," said I, "for surelie I am her sonne. May mother lie, or cruel Fates do me like wrong? My God! let not a lot more hard, alas, then death come t' me. When a ripe evil doth breake upon wicked men, th' justice i' Thy holie law, ev'n in chastiseme't holdeth men not that arrow of pestilence: 140 BI-LlTERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. but I am innocent, O my God! Visit not the evill we much scorn, on me th' innocuous fruit." In th' dark I waged warre manfully, supposing that my life in all the freshnesse of youth was made unbearable. It did so much exhaust, that, afte' pause of a moment, I brast flood-like into Mistres Bacon's chamber and told her my storie. No true woman can beare th' sight o' any tear. I grasped her arm, weeping and sobbing sore, and entreated her (artfully, as I thought, hidi'g my secret), t' say 'pon oath I was i' trtoth the sonne of herselfe and her honoured husband. I made effort to conceal my fear that I was base sonne to the Queene, per contra, I eke, most plainlie shew'd it by my distresse. When therefore my sweet mother did, weeping and lamenting, owne to me that I was in very truth th' sonne o' th' Queene, I burst into maledictio's 'gainst th' Queene, my fate, life, and all it yieldeth, till, wearie, on bent knees I sank down, and floods o' tears finished my wilde tempestuous invective. When, howsoever, that deare ladie saw this, with womanly wisedome, to arrest fury or perchance to prevent such despaire, said to me: "Spare my ear, or aim rightly, boy, for you do wrong your mother with such a thought. Pause least as to Absa- lom a sudden vengeance come. When you list to my words, you then will knowe that you do also wrong that noble gentleman, your father. Earl Kobert, at the meere mention o' this folly would rise in great wrath and call down Heaven's judgements on you." At the word, I besought her to speake my father's name, when granting my request, she said: "He is the Earle of Leicester." Then as it made me cease to sob, she said againe: "I tooke a most solemne oath not to reveale your IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 141 storie to you, but you may hear my unfinish'd tale to th' end if you will go to th' midwife. Th' doctor would be ready also to give proofes of your just right to be named th' Prince of this realm, and heire-apparent to the throne. Neverthelesse Queene Bess did likewise give her solemn oath of bald-faced deniall of her marriage to Lord Leices- ter, as well as her motherhood. Her. oath, so broken, robs me of a sonne. Francis, Francis, breake not your mother's heart! I cannot let you go forth after all the years you have beene the sonne o' my heart. But night is falling. To-day I cannot longer speake to you of so weighty a matter. This hath mov'd you deepely and though you now drie your eyes, you have yet many teare marks upon your little cheekes. Go now; do not give it place, i' thought or word, a brain-sick woman, though she* be a Queene, can take my sonne from me. Retire at once,, my boy." .^ , With "Farewell," her heart half bursting, she bade mee leave her, and I, fond boy, kingly power deerly yearn t' winn dreame of goldene scepters, prou' courts, and by- and-by a crowne on mine innoce't brow. Alledg'd oathe, or any unrighteous rule, sho'ld never from the English throne barre the grand-sonne to Henry th' Eight,sonne to Elizabeth i' lawfull marriage; and by vertue of these rights, in that it is the stile of the eldest sonne o' Eng- land's Soveraigne, no lesse then that of the Prince o*" Wales is my proper title. In due course o' time, however, I, at daie's meridian r was by my newe-f ound royall mother re-call'd and given private audience. I learn'd from the interview, and sub- sequent occurrences, that th' matter was trulie to be mar- gente of my desire, and that it was, at present, in fancie 142 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. that I bore this lofty name, or a stile other then that actually mine in my home. A princely name, it seemed, was one to bee thought upon, not reckon'd 'pon as apt to bee given me; for so all fabrickes, baselesse, (though one, no doubt, shall be ev'n t' th' end of life busily construct- ing) i' woful ruines upon lowly shiftinge sands do fall. I mention' d that although 'twas guess'd by one [that] another is rightfully the husband of this subtle Queene, (nor can he make lesse ill-timed propositions) he so wisht to betray her to the entire nation as one unworthy their respec', by airs of enamour'd address not onely, but in a formall most princely and courtlie wonte ask'd (at an extra especial session of th' Queene's abated, astounded and disspleased private councel) negotiations. All wayes and meanes of avoiding th' open declaration were adopted at once. The royall suitor, however, as a Poleak at missing aime, was angered, and, great ado making, did so disturb our great men, who, as birdes are amidst hawkes, were thereat cow'ring with fear o' publick disgrace, that many saw this. As it influenced State affaires, it was admirable. If no act made th' heires of Elizabeth rightfullie bastard, it was proper some meanes to shew legitimacy, that will in no waye cause tumult throughout England, be ofer'd. Any such measure found no kinde of regard i' th' sight o' vain minded Queene Elizabeth, whose look traineth men as vain as her owne selfe. Th' would-be idole of half the great princes of Europe, concluding it would be lesse pleasing in a f ewe yeares to have all the people knowe that she is the wife of th' Earle of Leicester, then suppose her the Virgin Queene she call'd herselfe, both props and shields alike despis'd, nor did she at any subsequent time reverse her decision. For such a triviall, unworthie, un- IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 143 righteous cause was my birthrighte lost, and nought save the strong will of Elizabeth turned men from conspiracie t' place me on th' throne. To winne backe their loyalty she assum'd most kingly aires, and, upon occasion har- angued the army, riding upon a richly caparison'd horse before the lines, and naming herselfe th' King. I for dear life dare not to urge my claim, but hope that Time shall ope th' waye unto my rightfull honors. The story of my entire life is told in some most subtile waies. My plays, (now so nearly completed, that we pre- mise we may to him great glory bring i' whose name I write) have letters which I write to you in my other, more principall, typic, or word-sign Cypher, that like that card a ship's watchfull mate nere taketh his eye off in a time of storm, must be closely observ'd. Round certaine words that I name keyes, one cluster may bee scene to have its place in othe' kinds o' worke. T' aid in finding keyes, some words are not capitalized: when- ere a fewe such are repeated frequentlie, take note of it and oiir design, which wee saw written in a night vision, will take its proper form i' th' minde. Let th' wordes in parenthese' next to be found. N". B. every time such seem to be us'd ad libitum, it showeth they are keies. Such use o' capitalls meaneth that this pointeth out th' words I will so use. But it is by othe' devices, as in cloth o' Persian silk, a patterne soon openeth out of the confusio'. Any aven- turous worker can easilie trace it if he doth get th' true art. Th' keys tak'n are aids onely. Seeke out all of the works I name, ere th' deciph'ring naturally attracteth you so continually, no pledg'd attentive devotion to more labor- ious work may hold you to this necessary part. Let all 144 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. things be done carefullie and in order, following the way I, darkly, have pointed out to you and seeke diligently for the light. ISTo sparke sheweth from th' flint until it be strucke, nor can you finde th' fitfull sparkes that hide within our pages if you doe not work in manifold wayes, in season and out, to uncove' our flinty Ciphers and strike them sharpely. Look not to finde a steady raye that doth as sunlight shine unfalteringly. 'Tis as swift lightning; ev'n before we say, "Lo it is there!" 'tis gone, and vastie darkenesse swalloweth up our sight. However, 'tis quite sufficient for my pur- pose, and as more light would defeate rather then further famous designes, to have bestowed more were foolish waste. My decypherer alone doth get the benefit, while spies o' all sorts are dazzled and misled. Wherefore take good heart, for not all now see what is revealed to one that hath found what is the law of our Ciphers; for, for years, I, an eager follower after all learning, have so laboured t' finish this worke and to perfect it, that you cannot misse my object. A system so exact must in the end yielde what our designe doth intend. Proceed, therefore, in this manne'. Seeke near each key that othe' or joining-word, which you will find oft repeated, and bring parts together. I knowe you feel a desire to write at once, and beg you to be in no haste, for if you leave searching out th' keyes and putting apart the materials for the building o' th' pallaces, you will be as a beggar going from door t' door without a wall that can keepe off tempestuous winds or a roofe to shelter you. Yet if you shall, as I direct, patientlie collect the blockes of marble, which are already polish'd and prepar'd, IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 145 Like t' a king's th' shining walls shall rise, "While high upon the loftie gleaming tow'rs Th' golden roofe may outbrave Dlium's. No sound shall come o' anie instruments, As any iron tools, or ax, or hammer: As in the beauteous temple, as we read, In silent grandeur stone on stone was reared, So noiselesse, so inaudible shall bee The building of my glorious pallaces. Let no conspiracie t' make you leave For idole Fancie' noble Truth's faire realme, A moment winne you, but for this assay Break cressive love, throw off th' filmy band! Nor in th' mazes of a winding way Is risk'd a foot of him that would out-go In fleetnes stepps of winged Mercury; Then stray not in, or, ere one is aware, The entrance to th' labyrinth's quite lost Th' unmarking eies nor see nor read th' signs Which of the strait and narrow way do make, A shini'g pathway to th' golden mount. The purposes, like to a weather-cock that chang'd, Turning ere lazie eies had noted it, Ne'er made one master o' the Grecia' art, That wondrous use made both o' stone and canvass, Neyther can sto'ier defiant Cipher, As flint-like as th' hardest stone now wrought, Bee rounded so to-day t' symmetry, Unlesse old rules shall next reveale a keye. I eke in verse, sing of my one great theame; In verse we told the story o' our birth. If one or other should on halting feet, , 146 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Limp on apace, lenify easily, And oft undo parts never justly given So that at best this shall by iteration, Shew its full use. As th' object is gained by that, better, in very truth, and more easily of a mark'd degree we have in many places, oft on beginning a new portion, given th' deciph- erer in manner differing, (but in nothing of importance changed) repetition of our work as you may see. Always, as you will perhaps note, th' law wrought compleatelie to perfection, giveth you the whole story. To place the cardes then soe carefullie that no losses can hap, was not an easie taske; but I have not yet seen any ground of feare that my designe may be at fault. All is cleare as A. B. C. I wag'd my best, and it repayeth the outlay well. Though as to the dramatic as fundamental works I can finde noe fault, the limits of historie we found cramping; for as in [a] play nothing unnaturall is of anie use, you find, in writi'g a simple tale o' history onlie the truth availeth. It better doth aid th' writer of events t' have little imagination. A book rightly giveth truth in its beautie more fame then any story i' brass monuments, and the names o' authors living may grace it. And I, for I greatly desire fame, have rear'd high my noble pile, but only the letter I have written to my decypherer hath the secre' o' my untiring heart and hand. Pile the lofty works to mark my tomb. I ask no truer monument. Although this is risking the losse o' th' most valew'd works, still I would that it be so left, for reasons which I must, at th' beck o' th' heavy hand Death wieldeth, shew unto th' world; but no historie save mine reveals th' story, IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 147 as it doth beseem secret letters. I, but fabricke of my fancy it will sound, yet it hath truth in all. Even his- torick writi'gs may draw somewhat upon that for aid, yet my worthy work's not kin. Leave most futile and worth- lesse attempts to undo me: This truth must span that narrow arch above Time's current, where soft hued rain- bows give promise of the car, banded with gold, i' which we note Apollo in his pride, who ever carryeth t' th' sonnes o' men his beauteous beams of light. Daye he lends the beautie pure and shining that crownes her awful brow, and Eve winns, too, th' gold tipt arrow wrought to so fine a point, that shiny spear-head is sirnam'd a starre. As hath beene said, it was such a very difficult under- taki'g to adapt another historic to the purposes of the Ciphers, we let our judgement oft-times decide upon the manner of narration, alwayes provided the truth did by this method by no meanes suffer. Whenever this soe meerly formall device failed, manie more were soon de- vised. A mark in lines I wish to have divided, when found in the other or Latine tipe, shall have to such an eye a newe significance, not such as it would have in th' Italic. As you see I blent everie eye, save one, in this. Next I us'd numerous means (nor on being examin'd do th' manie works beare indication o' revealing the secret), even reckoned better in use for manie sorts o' writi'gs. By using much time to perfect the plann, even of rest and sundrie such, so-called, necessities deprived thereby many weekes, I found the methods as day after day went by easily employed and easily seen, but free fro' suspition. A name can be given so, for ere anie other eye sees aught but an ordinarie name of articles in com- mon use, the thoroughlie taught decipherer sees some of 148 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. my penn names; and as for fears, I anticipating them us'd severall different names for one, making anie pursuite fruitlesse. Even this marginall work, hath aid for the decipherer, and also other signes are cressets bearing lights to mark the waye that I would have him walke ; yet would my truer, i. e., the more worth' Cipher-work, end ere all bee well understoode, were this alwayes confined to rules, signes, etcsetera. It is to make each a lockt doore to all save my decipherer. But, at th' same time, t' diversify th' worke suficientlie, at th' beginning many of my simple lines are to be found sowne so freely throughout the work of this Ciphe' (in truth that said work so much doth alter this task) that need o' a pleasanter, as shall soon be seen, cannot be felt or knowne, but a love and devotion to th' work shall set a newe motif into action. Also, in th' Cipher, use of th' elements, the sev'n great wonders, the seven planets, with manie of th' vertues a fair kept recorde sheweth, and vices soe black that never could an angell see one, but its eie' would fill t' overflow- ing, also a long and well arrang'd table of such things as are dayly used and familiar to all, beter keepeth my plans from jeopardie then the strong guard of our king doth his sacred person. All this must bee found, before you can apply your- selfe easilie unto 'this goodlie work of mine, that I wish you to do at once. If it may at th' first seem of little real value, the value of a correct story (ill as it may make one most exalted person come out, aye most false, on evill trulie gloating), soone will be apparent. You are to get eleven old plaies, publisht in th' name I have us'd lately at th' theatre, and many much valued IN HENRY THE SEVENTH. 149 by scenick Caesars who conquer, ever, a lack created on our stage from th' withdrawing of some lame and halt plays t' embark again in new forme t' aide my projects by compelling th' production of others. And therein you will finde th' beginning of many stories, both i' dramati- call forme (also in that raw unfinished forme) and in lam- bick verse. But the haste with which some parts were compleated, will explaine this. When these plays may come foorth, for many reasons cannot now be determined, but I promise you, it shall be soone. "Wisely and slow," is a proverb ofte on my lips, and as oft unheeded, even by myselfe, also. But an axe that cutteth well must be well sharpened then it doth become us all to looke well to our instruments: For you must cut apart my various bookes, Spreading them out upon a mark'd scrutoire, Which, as th' chart or mappe th' sailor hath Doth pointe out everie countrey of th' world, In f aire, clear lines, this great expanse doth name, So faire and beauteous th' bound I set, Though 'tis at riske o' this secret designe. Then separate each part, to joyne againe According as your guide hereby discloseth, In riche mosaickes, wondrous to behold, To bee admir'd by all the sonnes of men. Heere is a crowne, gemme-starred, and golden scepter, A crosse and ball insignia of ranke, Even of royalty, soe pure and high No blur is on it, but like to frost flowers, Januarie's blossoms icie white, It gleameth i' th' light of cache faire morne. 150 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Oil let not man forget these words divine: "Inscrutable do hearts of kings remaine." If he remark a pensive dying fall In th' musicke of these strairies, let him forbear To question of its meaning. List again, As hath been, is, and evermore shall bee Ages retarde your flight and turn to hear Cor regis inscrutabile. Amen. Yet 'tis the glorie of our Heavenlie King To shroud in mystery His works divine, And to kings mundane ever shall redound In greatest compasse glory to th' names 0' such as seeke out Nature's misteries; Fortune may aid him; Honor may attend; Truth waite upon him; as we look, crampt Art Doth reach forth to faire light, undreamt of lore; While Reputation soundeth through th' world Unto Time's close, glory in [highest] measure, To him that to th' depths doth search wide Seas, Digge deepe into th' Earth, unto th' Aire And region of th' Fire climbe fearlessly, Till he th' World, the Heavens and e'en th' Uni- verse, With human eyes that better can discern Then mountaine eagle, gazing at th' sunne, Doth finde out secrets hid fro' humankind Since th' foundations of th' earth were laid, f Stampt with the impresse of the Heavenlie Hand ; And in grave musick deepe to deepe did call, While morning starres together sang a hymn Time lendeth to Eternity for aye. FT. B. MARLOWE. EDWARD THE SECOND. 1622. You will find here that sad, sad, sad tale o' my brother Essex which runs darkling thro' my plaie, the secret th' books contain, the most comon themes in any or all lan- gwages, polish'd writings in everie stile named in any Rhe- tor'cke, not sparing sundry dearly lov'd poets, but so mak- ing over my erly college songs of ancie't world lore (of th' hero's fam'd still through Homer et. al.) that no part is lost. Much, however, as I say, shal assert things such as will be recorded in no place which might be subject t' the scrutinie o' enimie or of friend. Many of the hidden plays have no other object I assure you. Any writi'gs o' my penne, be they in mine owne name or in that of my friend, is the work o' th' hand you have so long knowne as untiring of the same restless minde and spirit. Now hunt out our hidden epistle for it doth foile tiresome friends; foes who, most constantly watchi'g (ever closely bent o' use o' some kind or sort of secret) win th' starte yet lose th' scent; and thus do curious men, try however they may in weake attempts at resistance, wander in mirie waies, and I followe this busines and this play, if recreative labours may be stil'd plaie. Many days pass in th' work that is here given. Oft more of the dayes then may justlie be used in such a way. This is principall in favour (since none but my owne selfe doth know of its appearance), to furder my object and to avoid ev'n th' slight suspicion of persons reading my plai's. 151 152 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. A booke is as an un wrought lump of metall: you see not th' rich shine of it beneath sundry thin coates that obscure it. The same is true of everything herein. Study my signes, learn to read my numerous small Cyphers for their designe was to make the worke easy. Doe this as directed untill the whole is understoo' soe well no great difficulty will bee found in th' deciphering. You next join Lear to this, a history of Henrie th' Sevent, Th' Life and Death of King John, and Burton's great prose, (not the best I have so given another man, but better for work of various parts then plaies) those which I name Peele on th' stage, or that Arraignment I have men- tion' d, th' David, one of my oldest books put out in a time when we minded onelie our achiev'mente th' result of our long study. Time now doth unveil many things ungues'd or un- dreain'd of by any. To do away with mistery we set forth a large work De Augmentis S. now translated, to shut th' casket, but if th' keys to it should now be sunk, th' story it contains (our twelf t king's nativity since our sovereign, whose tragedy we relate in this way,) shall now know the day, nor shall the Latine hide, nor our disguises, many and valew'd as they be, keep my story from th' eyes of the curious searchers in a new mine. Such a prize hath my book to give the student of the work whose entry is farre in the vantguard; the armies rereward may lose th' glory of it all. FRANCIS BACON. HISTORIA VIT^E & MORTIS. 1623. Leaving out those Latin letters of the several plays may throw upon the Italiques suspition of its purpos'd emploiement or of planne, and Revelation may too soone remoove the well-designed masque which Prudence would but slightly stir. To prepare as manie alphabets as would but be manifesto upon my shorter pages, can be scene to be prodigious labour, and hath consum'd many of my spare hours of late, if I may speake thus of any howers, since my time is most constantly turned to inve'tion of this sort or kinde that noe portion of my history may remaine unwritten. It is true it is manie times told, as my f aithf ull decypherer must know if hee have performed anie worthy part of this work, yet it is very improbable hee can have diseyph'red a history as true as 'tis strange with a marvellous storie of our late soveraigne therein, yet have told, writ, or put forth this knowledge nowhere. In truth feare is grow- ing within mee that this is all a lost labour, for it doth seeme too well hidden to finde the light of dale, and it doth ever wage th' warre in my heart with most earnest desire for sweete asura'ce of a safety I have not for manie a day or yere felt. The death of a king that now usurpeth my rightfull throne, may avayle not to give to one, who wrong'd by his> owne roiall mother can shewe his claime but by his owne 153 154 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. and his frends' word, th' crowne and scepter of this vaste kingdome. The papers that would testify as mouths of livi'g and present observers, speaking of truth to them well known, were long guarded with care, but it will be recalled to your minde, doubtles,,that in Queene Elizabeth no sense of justice was so strong as her loves, though her self-love overmaster'd everie emotion. It will make cleere, perhaps, her manifesto delight when ruine of my hopes came by the destruction of said papers, and her refusall to make due restitution to myselfe. As all witnesses were gone, as th' time to prove my right to raigne ove' England came, no hands were uplifted there, as hath too oft in my writ- ings of these events beene retold, to bee secure yet transmit to th' comming men of th' land, a tale of wrong nearlie unknown 'mongst a greater part of the present genera- tion. Brieflie, 'tis, as you may have learnt in Cypher workes such as this, a prerogative of my birth, th' power that is shewn in the outward and visible signs of royall throne, scepter, robes and crowne, mine the coveted stile, Eex. AltKough wedded whilst she was but th' proud, unhappie, tho' still spirited princesse that Queene Mary held to be dangerous in freedome, and for this cause sent off without forme of trial to languish in London Tow'r, afte' her ascent to royale power, before my birth, a second nuptiall rite duly witness'd, was observed, soe that I was borne in holy wedlocke. But having no true desire of my advancement, oieyther th' Queene nor my sire, suiting the word to th' action, ever set a seale upon th' papers that declar'd the legitimacy or fully established my claime. Therefore th' aforesaid papers which were destroy'd, were the testimony of Lord IN HISTORIA VITJE & MORTIS. 155 P., at whose house this marriage was solemnized th' second time, hee having stro'g suspition that these might, at a remote date perchance be requir'd, with other like sub- stantive testimony confirming this same ceremony of the Queene's nuptialls, and of my birth, after a lapse of time, certified by th' physitian, nurse, midwife, and Lady Anne Bacon, my foster pare't, who saved the life my proud, roiall mother boldly refused to nourrice. Therefore am I not known by that name which is mine by lawe, and men living in some farre off ^Eon shall at a word set this true title and name to all bookes I shall leave in anie to'gue. My best playes, at present as William Shakespeare's work f ost'red, will as soone as one more plaie bee completed, weare a fine but yet a quiet dresse, as is seemely in plaies of as much valew and dignity as sheweth cleerly therein, and be put foorth in folio enlarged and multiplyed as th' history conceal'd within th' comedies, histories, or tragedies requir'd. Th'' commencement of one of these hidden epistles will bee seene, but is not in truth my earliest let- ter or first Cipher teachi'gs. In this cheefe device that I name the Word-Cipher- being found by those keyes joyn- ing the partes togather I made many futile experiments ere my great Cipher was compleat, as you must have learnt by pursuing a course that I plainlie marked out for you, but if your course have bin devious, your rules may so have escapt notice that part of th' interiour work may be unknown to you. It was truly very difficult to put out al th' secret work in parts so small that it gave no clew to other workes co'cealed in the plays, th' poems, the essays or counsels, et csetera. To this work have many weary yeares bin ungrudgingly given, inasmuch as by the meanes then commanded by an 156 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. unskilled penne, ayded no lesse, I am co'pel'd to admit first by worthie pamphlets of some pen that produc'd no little fruit, then by genius, I, assur'd that time can do no harm to my inventio', but should rather make it valued, ay, and greatly prized, in every work- wherever or in what garb sent out, plact my f ost'red hidden history. Blacke as manie of my owne heavy maters may bee, th' play, indeed, may be at once not gaye perchance, but most pleasing and also leave small seedes that will put forth some leaf or flower as earnest of harvest. So may that which at this periode hath for sole clayme my inner revela- tion, in future, give such seede and fruit, men's thoughts shall be quite busy in seeking out the secret of the style I have imploied herein and thereby see th' interiour story. You will, I doubt not, finde valew'd work much changed. I alwais alter even when there bee more to adde, and I may take many of th' parts from th' plaies put out in quarto form to reset th' same, having made a planne to increase one by making a likeness in th' theame easily suit th' thoughts and ene sundry verses of others. It may be a long time ere I can put into use most choise lines soe culd fro' early plays, and so friendes may, noting th' abse'ce of these lines, sometime aske the cause. It wil not please those who wish to keepe all things in pristine shape, stile, or con- struction, even rejecting improving and for the most part onely trifling changes, but so, much accompted of great valew loseth true proportion as it is plact, it is highten'd by th' foil or dwarf'd by that compariso'. The new arr'ngement is not lesse waigh'd, studied, and carefully ballanc'd, for I aim'd onelie to write with truth in everie part and to set that one gemme above other treasor, that noe man shal say in anie time to bee, IN HISTORIA VIT^J & MORTIS. 157 "Th' fruit is as th' apples that, turning to ashes, drave olden heroes to curse Sodom's deceitfulnesse." In due time a strength, farre-reaching thought greatly hath increas'd, cometh to your eie in this latter work, that also must bee known to many by reading anie such work as my drama entitled First Part of King Henrie th' Fourth. The Seco'd Part of th' same and one entitl'd Othello reveale knowledge of life wanting in th' common plays that had this penne name on title page. These are, as I many times have said, th' crowning glory of my pen, even though there bee de- grees, as surely you must know, of excellence therein; but the cause you may as well have learned since it was clearlie shewne to depend upon times, and likewise upon the nature as well of the hidden as of th' open story. Therefore some will bee omitted from my Folio, but some retained for causes now given. To fix my rules well in your minde is the most essential thing at th' moment, and many were put within those which one must acknowled'e possesse little valew. As half the number I shal assemble have alreadie appeared in Will Shakespeare's name, I thinke that it will be well to bring out the Folio, also, by some meanes in th' same name, although he be gone to that undiscover'd cou'try from whose borne no traveller returnes, because our king would be prompt to avenge th' insult if his right to raigne were challeng'd, and the sword of a king is long and where 'twill not extend thither he darteth it. And as concerneth th' plays, the truth commeth foorth more quickly from an errour then from confusio' and therefore it is most certaine that it would by f arre be more the part of wise and discern- ing mindes to let this name of a man knowne to the theatre, and his former gay company of fellowe-players, stand thus 158 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. on plays to him as little knowne, despite a long tearme of service, as to a babe. I, thinking expedient so to do, now obay th' Scripture and caste my very bread to the windes or sowe it on th' waters. How shall it be at the harvest? This wheat must fill up some goodlie garner. Will the golden store not soon since time doth slowlie moove, yet' at God His right or proper daye of reward bee mine? I thinke this shall be true, for manie a fayre hope hath bloomed out snowlike in my lone heart that promiseth ful fruition to my wish. Tame it may chance for the workes shal come, tho' not to the authour who hid with so great paines his name that at this writing 'tis quite unghest. And th' time I am giv'n to spende upon th' work is as gold, princelie gemmes or purple robes. All things in th' world, of th' subtle charme that is too powerf ull for weak man such as be of greatest worth are represented in this youthful i've'tion. Some that reade that which is yet known 'mongst players as William Shakespeare's, wil marvail that so many superiour works could have laine hid in such seaso's of Prince's celebra- tions. But my discypherer, who knoweth that the plays represented as found never had existed are incompleted in short, and are yet my cheefe occupation shall make this fully to bee seene as 'tis made out, by being ready in th' work I have therein requested to have compleated. This to many noe doubt seemeth useless writing(g), illy suted to that record of th' work of a lifetime, for which this Cyphre now in co'stat use was invented, but as things now are 'tis greatly priz'd, since my history, whilst now as indifferentlie giv'n as such forward stories of a man's owne experiences at most are, either in his thoughts or writings, shal in th' relation be somewhat improv'd, my IN HISTORIA VIT1E & MORTIS. 159 Word Cyphe' taught by the others being work'd in with great trustiness and paines. Yet how an interior epistle is colour'd by th' exterior in other Cyphers then my letter, which you wel understa'd, is also seene therein. For heroes, and all weightie deedes, must bee suited in verse both loftie and fine, whilst true limn'd passion should be cloath'd upon as some flow'r humble or flaunting, dim violets or poppy flowre, alike adorn'd in many-hued silken tissewe that time truly may not destroy. Each spring hath brought newe bloome but nothing is lost or greatly alter d. In like mode ill deeds must put on ill wordes, a verse well marking the inner character of soe evill a theame. When this is observ'd in making your own search for portio's scatt'red through these numerous new playes, as well as in that Historic of JEenry the Seventh, your judge- ment must truly be perswaded of purpose therefor. But if history shall so exclude such sympathy of theame that it must stand as my tomes writ when my sadde pen found the Cipher letters its sole methode or meanes by th' timelie contrivance of which its waighty secrets might be given place apart, unseen, such divisions shall be most fine and widely parted as is noted in earlier secret epistles. Some of .my letters hide that story that giveth me f arre more deadly paine then could ought else ev'n this los of honour in the roiall soveraigne, his eies it is Lo. Robert's untimely, cruell end. It hath so temper'd the hot rush of bloud in my vaines that I feel myselfe becomi'g old ere it be time. It is the one thought in my hours of day, my one]y dreame by night, for there was my owne aide, not to him but to my mother, th' Queene, which hurteth th' memorie more than tongue can tel. 160 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. Yet such terrors held mee that I could not realize ought beyond that daie, nor did I beleeve anie such curse one half soe likely of lighting sudenly upon th' youthful head of my hasty Lord of Essex, most dear to th' Queene, as it was to rest for aye upon my pate. Th' event of th' Earle's death never for an howre, or even for a moment seem'd posible to me after Robert stoopt his pride to send our proud mother her pledge a ring given as if in doubt some great harm might ever threaten, altho' neither surely tho't it from th' Queene his evil would threat. It was long enow, in truth some time thereafter, 'ere this fact became well known, Her Ma. coming unto th' knowledge but a short periode ere she died. After our misguided Queene's last inurther, however, was by a chance only prevented, it was freelie bruited everywhere. It was then that I also found that th' most preitous yet, by his fortune, trulie valewlesse token came short of its de- sir'd or rather intended end. My owne share in his terrible triall, you at least as my faithful discypherer know, but none can say or think how awful the memory, burnt upon heart, braine, and soule soe deeply, is at this day though the time be long past. No mishap of fate or evil fortune which hath befalne me of late, can make such sad impres- sion on the heart as this unceasing sorrowe; and of all joies possible to my future, none is to mine eager spirit soe en- ticing as my earnest hope of meeting Robert in that world of blis when all earth's sorrowes have ended, and of hear- ing my greatest evill-doing by his word forgiven. O grant our request Thou infinitely gracious Father! As our Lord was crucified that we might live, that sin washed in his bloud, might be remitted, blot out all our transgressions. Though our sinnes be as scarlet let them IN HISTORIA VIT^E & MORTIS. 161 be white as wooll. As farre as the East is from th' West, as height is from depth, so farre remove wrong from our mindes and all iniquity from our hearts, for with the Lord is mercy, and plenteous redemption. This work of my hand is fully prepar'd to put foorth as soon as fit, this Cypher work being nearlie ready also, yet this is by no means all that hath a place in these plannes that I made at divers seasons in my leasure or it may be, to speak according to the facts in time which was free from officiall duties, since I have not found leasure in many yeares from various sorts of i'vention. A man may well finde it so uselesse a word in my position and circum- stances that he could doe without it, except if it please him to distinguish betweene differinge works, in degrees and also in kinde. One such work will be partlie put forth openly, to shew the kind and style of th' work, partly in my Word-Cyphar that is carefullie explain'd in many places to afforde my : discyph'rer such ayde as I deem'd to be necessary. To me it is probable, that, encourag'd by timelie advice, my dil- ligent decypherer will continue this work, assisted in soe great measure, and say with me it is well co'ceyved, for, although at present there bee few inventions of a like kind known, many are requir'd in th' world, and may have place in my bookes amongst those that much labour may yet make perfect. At least it is well to place manie things with the table in which I have named the desiderata, so much benefit may soone bee derived thence. To introduce th' thought, being often greater actual good to students, as to philosopher in fact, then to write out a most thorough and labor 5 d theory, it is advantageous to wield a free penne, to give scope and strength to its inve'tion. 162 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. For some such purpose my long sought, not yet sur- rendered, theorie of f amilie or patriarchdom should fence in th' degree I have me'tion'd, if th' losse of my owne sov- eraignty teach anie people a modell of thorow, just, yet tender, generous and kinde unquestio'd rule, or lead men young, hopeful, fond o' adventitious joyes of new discov- eries forth into the fields of limitlesse possibilities. It should set this suffering, mutinous, wronged, wounded spiritt somewhat at rest to feel this truly assured to my heart, but none can shewe mine eies that future day although I long for it as one whose life is waning swiftlie, more from trouble it is true then age, yet no lesse surelie is it wearing to its end, and God's hand shall add that word!,, all that at that day shal be wanting, meerely the Finis to say that the soul of this Prince wins loving subjects at last in Christ his kingdome. In my remaini'g dayes, or many like our forefathers' or few, whatever is meet to do for th' benefit of posterity, to promote the generall improvement of mankind, that would I do in all places. Some experime'nts that were 1 made before King Jas. put some businesses into my handes that in latter dayes are lacking, though delicate often and wearisome, receive chiefly my unoccupied moments, when no Cypher is in hand, for nothing is more benefit or at least doth put a man in a way sure of ayde in a right understand- ing of Nature's lawes more readilie then Nature's owne teachings. Therefore these aydes are often but a suggestion of a methode of inquirie rather then th' replie. A. great arte to finde truths which Nature's hand guardeth even as it was in that first day conceal'd must of necessitie have exercise the same as other artes, nor must th' inquirer imagine this is possible without th' most paines- IN HISTORIA VITJE & MORTIS. 163 taking work. This is obvious in the present in labour I performe every day, for like the old Israelites who served in Egipt, more is oft requir'd of mee then to make the brick. This must I do and also seeke th' strawe. Let it then make the labour seeme lesse irksome, inasmuch as I have long told many a tale well dried and ready for a place, how lowe or lofty it bee, in the temple walles. It should not, however, be his part to labour, ev'n to fatigue, with hand and braine. Philosophers have need of servitors that shall prepare the waye before, like the fore- runners of our Saviour, exalt the low places, th' mountayns bring downe, th' crooked and the uneven and rough make once more smoothe, straight and plain, since their labour is to some degre a labour divine and hath for end and ayme th' advantaging of humanity, but as the work is in bands and cannot in our day bee : mention'd 'mongst truelie well understood sciences, you, my deciphrer, cannot know how much doth appertayn thereto nor th' methods by which my labours have bin done. I put much good and thorough enquirie in my taskes and th' experiments have not beene hastilie made nor carelesselie set downe. "Whosoever may reade and note this work shall keepe on faithfullie in this way which I mark'd out for him, but should hee, with the aide that I afford his search it leadeth f arre on to other and wealthier mines of truth I have no doubt make farre greater discoveries and inventio's ere he shall set these forth in triumphant musicke, let some note in such a psean bee in my praise, inasmuch as my hand long before awaken'd th' sound and tuned th' instruments that th' musicke might bee thus though th' sounds be not in th' tuning agreeable or pleasing to heare, for this cause the musicke is sweeter afterwards. Doe not treat my small 164 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. request as an idole thought, for 'tis as serious as anie that I have placed in my workes. In th' Holie "Word of Scripture we reade that a workman is worthy of his wages, and I accompte this my reward. As hope of Fame is onely for a future, howsoever remote this shal be, it is not vanity in mee to make this request, nor do I offer apologie to anie who heare and see. Sure the con- servation of renowne may not cause wonder since much honour that is my due may for aye be denied me. This must be true if none have understood, I place my joylesse story herein yes joylesse and sad indeede, yet true, and in a history nothing but the last proprietie hath waight. Then, too, co'sta'tly in mind is th' proude hope that my owne kinde friend wil folow me thus f arre in th' work. To him the title Baron, also Viscount, is without doubte known and my right to Eex. F. SHAKESPEAKE PLAYS. 1623 FOLIO. B *You will either finde the guides or be lost -in the labyrinth. Every one of my great dramaticall writings, severall other workes my New Organ, the second part of my Instauration, my New Atlantis, (some parts of which I much desire you to write from my philosophicall papers) and the part of the Sylva Sylvarum (a Naturall Historic that I designe to leave as it is), my Historic of Henry the Sevent, as well as my workes of science, containe in the last ten pages of the papers, rules that tell how to work out the great word Cipher. Keep at work. FR. ST. ALBAN. *Any person using here the bi-literall Cipher, will find a rule to be followed when writing the hidden letters in which are Histories, Comedies, Tragedies; a Pastorall of the Christ; Homer's epics and that of Virgil, which are fully render'd in English poetry; the completion of my JSTew Atlantis; Greene's Life; Story of Marlowe; the two secret epistles (expressely teaching a Cipher now for the first time submitted, doubtfully, for examination and studie, by any who may be sufficiently curious, patient, or industrious); part of Thyrsis (Virgile's ^Eclogues); Bacchantes, a Fantasie; Queene Elizabeth's Life (as never before truely publish!); a Life of the Earl of Essex, and my owne. FR. LORD VERULAM. Heming and Condell. * Ben Jonson. 165 166 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. *Francis of Verulam is author of all the plays hereto- fore published by Marlowe, Greene, Peele, Shakespeare, and of the two-and-twenty now put out for the first time. Some are alter'd to continue his history. F. ST. A. *Search for keyes, the headings of the Comedies. FRANCIS BARON OF VERULAM. *As I sometimes place rules and directions in other Ciphers, you must seeke for the others soone to aide in writing. FR. OF Ve. *Queene Elizabeth is my true mother, and I am the lawfull heire to the throne. Finde the Cypher storie my bookes containe; it tells great secrets, every one of which (if imparted openly) would forfeit my life. F. BACON. *Francis St. Alban, descended from the mighty heroes of Troy, loving and revering these noble ancestors, hid in his writings Homer's Illiads and Odyssey (in Cipher), with the .zEneid of the noble Virgil, prince of Latin poets, inscribing the letters to Elizabeth, R. . *Fr. Bacon is the author, unknown among men as such. He in this way, and in his Cypher workes, gives full directions, in a great many places, for finding and unfold- ing of severall weightie secrets, hidden from those who would persecute the betrayer, yes, even take a person's life. Then take care that he be not endangered by your zeal. Reade easy lessons first, and forsooth the Absey in the Life and Death of King John, act one, is a good one; it shewes the entrance to a labyrinth. Court Time, a sure leader, and proceed to his Alphabet of Nature. Learne well two portions, Masses, and the Rule. Search this out. J F. B. *L. Diggs. *I. M. *Actors' Names. "Catalogue of Plays. *Prologue to Troilus and Cressida. *Headings of Comedies. IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 167 This letter tells you how to produce my most highly estimated unpublish'd labours of to-day, and I beg you try to understand it. Go as I direct, but finde each subtile signe, that silentlie like fingers, shewes your waye. Actus primus, King John, gives th' epistle's first wordes, near the word Absey already familiar to you. Join these plays to Fr. Bacon's Novum Organum : but other plays must shed their light in so wonderous a Cipher: none may be found if my work be lost. Seek not meerelie to read foure Cyphers, (for you should find six in all, which I coppy here, in full, to direct students how they should work out my greatest Invention) which you shall take as I direct you: this is first: that Clowne in the play who speaks of the plantan leafe, is a wise man here Art outruns that grub Nature: hunt out this Cipher, or anagram, at once: now finde a number in my King Henrie the Sevent correspo'ding to this (i. e., the same kinde or style), next add the plaies of Twelfe ^"ight or "What You Will, and Love's Labour's Lost; you will finde here capitalls in two formes, it is your next: the face of my clock comes -fourth: my symbols are next: and the sixi! is what all shewes my great Cipher of Ciphers. Every letter, save the epics of Virgill and Homer, is dedicated to yourselfe. FR. BACON. * *My reason for using my translated stories to teach this Cipher is this: I wish to get my Cypher into students' curricula. You should do this worke by my rules, and seeke for the keyes in the playes. First finde *Heaclings of the Histories. 168 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. the gods Jove, Pluto, Apollo, Vulcan, Minerva, Juno and Neptune, but do not omit any Nymphe: add Greek heroes, some captives; Dreams; the Sacred Isles; Chryses, Apollo's priest; some Trojans; the names of townes in Greece and Asia Minor; some parts also of Europe neare the Helles- pont and the ^Egseum: you can now write the first two bookes. Thus begin: O Goddess, sing of the destructive wrath Of fierce Achilles, Peleus' worthy sonne. Thus continue in Iambi, with verses similar to the lines above, taken from their hiding places in the bookes I have published; ill worth Homer's name, less musicall than the Greeke, I still thinke it worthy of preservation and a measure of honour. Search all places in which I have put my keyes. Near words like Jovus, Hera, Syno- nymes, as well as all the derivatives from these wordes are the sectiones of the translation. Keepe lines, though somewhat be added to Homer: in fact, it might be more truely Homeric to consider it a poeme of the times, rather than a historic of true events. For this good and sufficient reason, the translation should be in the forme of verse. I use English Heroick verse, usually paying but small heede to rime, like as you may see in my playes, yet in my other verse, rime being indis- pensable, and sometimes, as in the closing line in each stanzo of the epics of the so cal'd E. Spenser, the feete being too numerous, you may do as to you seems to be juste and propper. In all places, be heedfull of the meaning, but do not consider the order of the words in the sentences. I should joine my examples and rules together, you will say. So I IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 169 will. In the Faerie Queene, booke one, canto two, sec- ond and third lines of the seventh stanzo, thus speaking of Aurora, write: Wearie of aged Tithones saffron bed, Had spreade, through dewy ayre her purple robe. Or in the eleventh canto, booke two, five-and-thirtieth stanzo, arrange the matter thus, to relate in verse the great attacke at the ships, at that pointe of time at which the great Trojan took up a weighty missile, the gods giving strength to the hero's arme: it begins in the sixt verse: There lay thereby an huge greate stone, which stood Upon one end, and had not many a day Removed beene a signe of sundrie wayes This Hector snatch'd, and with exceeding sway. . . . It is an ensample, and the instructions are so cleare, I do not think you can follow scent so well as a hound, if you unkennell not the fox. Seeke the keyes untill all bee found. Turne Time into an ever present, faithfull companion, friend, guide, light, and way. For he who seeks an entrance here, must be furnished in that manner aforesaid. All my names I use as my fingers, to shewe which worke to join by means of the signes, which you so ofte' have seen in divers of my other workes. I am secretlie enscheduling worthie guides, which shew the path, and keyes this lock to turne. Now match to these, when you hunt them out, all Grseco-English wordes, i. e., wordes that are not yet com- pleatlie made English. Keepe my rules so carefully im- pressed upon your mind in all cases, that you bee not ledd aside; for one who taketh the right waye, if he will push 170 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. on, will win the goale, the lawrell garland, and the ap- plause and praises of the multitude: do not, therefore, turne your steps to the left, nor to the right, nor trace the roade backward. Keepe your eies ever fixt on the goal, and presse onward as I bid. I will make it a delightsome way, trust me, aye, ev'n as the milk-white path of high Jove on blew Olympus' summit. Pursue, with caution, every devious way, never forget- ting to retire back, before the chief highwaye be lost to sight. It is by such means that events, (and many a fabu- lous deede of the gods and heroes) remotelie appertinent to the Iliads are related, while you this winding labyrinthe trace out. FR. B. *You are now come to the Catalogue. It cannot be done as you have in the previous story of not too unusual actions and events. It is divided into small parts, as you will observe, which are so widely scatter'd in my writings, you should keepe my most common rule alway in this work; also keepe the order of the Greek in your translation. F. B. To these keyes now add Strife, Terror, Fortitude, Pur- suit, Din, Friendship; the ^Egis; the remainder of th' Olympian gods; the River gods; the Simois also the Sca- mander; with the many heralds, Sleep, Iris, also Mercury; Death and the Fates, all clouds, Chimseras, winds, Day, Night, and sweete Aurora; the Hours, who open Jove's gates; besides the Muses, Graces (who wait upon Yenus, or attend on the fire-robed Sun-deity), and Furies, lightning, thunder; Juno's birds, Venus' doves, Jove's eagle; Cen- *Headings of the Tragedies. IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 171 taurs, steeds, chariots, lions, serpents, with many other words which you ought also to keepe near bye in readinesse for use. Dub yourself as Knight of the Golden lies, and set out in quest of great deeds, grande triumphs, and Fortune's golden meede: your Honour will grow in lustre as you show forth the brightness of your Nature; so also- shall your Reputation be as jewels, and your Truth as precious stones, which Art has made of exceeding worthe, beautie, delightsomeness and estimation, and Time harmeth not. You will now find some wordes with a key, that tell the manner of joining parts. All workes do not give rules, as in most of my playes; but my poemes, plays, portions of prose, and of the numerous Latin and Greeke translations, also the stanzas of Italian Iambi are composed so well that you could not, if you would, go astray. When the partes are separated, put all matter of like kinde together- in boxes, which have been so marked with keies and joining- wordes that you may follow the plans with ease, not care- full for the outcome, since I am Architect, you the Master- builder: yours is the hand that shall erect the temple, when you shall bring to a selected place the fairest stones which you can finde, and cedar-wood hewed and shaped, so that you could raise towards heaven my Solomon's Pal- lace, and nowhere be heard either ax, or hammer, or any instrument of iron, as you put them in place. How won- derfull its beautie, no mortall eye hath seen. FR. ST. ALBAN. *As apt children have their dailie taskes, so also in this hardest of employes, a dailie burthen is laid on ev'ry hand; honres manie, as free as mortall can desire, are e'er jewels *The Tempest. 172 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. beyond price; yet, in this, an eager minde can find a dark chapter's chiefe motif, by thus most honorably and shrewdly using his moments of solitude and ease. The Tragedy of Macbeth must be added to this, then joine Edward the Second. As these are carefully con'd, many of Nature's writing are to be read, and a rule to fit or join, now that of one name, now others, making a story, in plays, which shewes that sin of my despis'd, (yet royall and also loyal) friends, Essex, who is my brother, and our most lovely parent, Queene Elizabeth ; the tragedie of his murther; an historic of my owne life; the storie of my share i' th' triall of my brother; my owne downfall, with many such. Now joine King Lear, King John, Romeo and Juliet, sixtie-two lines of The Life of King Henry Eight, partes of such other as you need my rules dissipate all uncer- tainty. More prose must stande in this part of your Cypher work, then has been used to relate my stories. Plays are by no meaues alwaies verse, therefore have I put a chain linking together by keies my speacfces: those in Henry Seventh, are now many lines in excesse; and all, or much, upon the claiming Henrie's crowne is to be altered. You will finde that historic repeats itself e in this, and that my owne story here given, has much that is simi- lar to the claime Warbeck made, yet also differing, inas- much as his had so false premises: but I was Elizabeth's son, by her wedded Lord, elder brother to Robert, the Earle of Essex, who raised a rebellion to obtaine his owne mother's kingdome, despite all other and prior rights. As hunted deer awaite death at every moment, so I, at baie, had an hourly f eare in both my brother's affects, and the hate and ill-intents of our mother and Cecil. IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 173 *When you match Macbeth with Tempest, it is to be observ'd, in the deciphering, how like is join'd with like conspiracie in each. Note in Tempest the directions, and do as I have done. You can follow my playes, as true keys, in most com- pleate succession, unlocke the closed doors of this secret chamber, in which are caskets like to that which Alexan- der found, and wherein I hide, likewise, mine own bookes, as well as honor'd Homer, his verses. Search, seeke out a secret, imparted to no living person except Mother Bacon, mine earlie friend and true, the woman who saved me from my furious, owne mother by rare devices. I was as a brat, or waift, the girle throwes from all eies to save her fortunes and name. Hate is juste, in him who is made prey to th' ills which do fall even upon a babe most innocuous, if love is not waking as he sleeps. Even then was I taken forth, stript naked, th' thinn soft bands a childe should feele, a rough- spun woolen robe replaced. None saw or pitied my harsh, unkinde, accursedly cruel usage; yet my mother was a wedded, honorable, and most royall woman: her will is then the single bar between E. Saint Alban and a sceptre. Take this play, and to it match that of Marlowe, i. e., Edward the Second. Note a hidden lesson in Marlowe's multi or rather double form tipe, for it tells when other plays take forward my work. In my worthy mind is a better, a broader, a more farr- renowned and farre-famous'd kingdom. Deny the imposed gift we truely would, in hot anger, but love is so great a requitall of wrong, the anger in the humane heart is seen a fire-eyed Eurie's child, turned from a region of Nox and *Macbeth. 174 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. her compeeres, and then we controule our passio's. My love for Marguerite was the spirit which saved rny soul from hatred, and fro vilde passio's. F. B. *Search this for a more awefull act then all modern, ' middle, and most farre-ofi o' all farre-distante times has revealed. It tells that sad, awefull story of an act which will poison my morning-sunrise, sunsett, the evening soft- lies, nightes darke heavie houres, and make the world bit- ter to the end: it is my brother's cruel, foull ending. Studie Time's rule: kin is set by kin, like is joyn'd to like. Recall to minde the play which matcht to this, will compleate the scene of torture King John. When this is done, a most sad, heavie story, in form o' a play, is told. Be dilligent therefore, and give heede. Attempt by all odds, worke purposed for proud R. Cecill's record, to cast his woven and treacherous plots into view. Use every wind to fill your great sails, hanging now so empty. Idle no morn's golden houres away, nor even, nor night lighted by moones pallid and soft beames; sail on, and fetch treasures Time will make more and richer. Moth can ruin th' royall vestments the glitt'ring crowne rust may corrode no such action ere shall harme my gems' golden, art-enchas'd rigoll. Next you must write a simple history or story of those two men, with more of their subtle actes apparent. They were my worst, aye, my onely foes. Read of some overt insolence, acts so wicked, such violent deeds, I had a just fear, if imployed doing that [which] Fate (or whatsoever power driving me) causes me to do, my enemie construed to come from my primary resorte, a predominant desire to *King Lear. IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 175 be endued with a royalty-robe, as a mark imprest to set the seal upon my rights, by virtue of my birth. Upon every occasion they were mindfull of my where'bouts. I coulde finde the path to Olympus, however, wing waie with Muse t' sing high paeons, farre from the murmur of their envy and spite. Their power I did evade. This duty so munified a brain, a heart, farre remote and seeking to reach the deep- est depths of knowledge, that I followe my main worke. Attempts fail which a tireless enemy doth so turne hate's minister of harm most truely doth good, not ill, to my sundrie* devices and designs. It must now bee left in this forme, for a trite, though true, simple story, may not be used t' form this kind of a play, and I have arranged it in plain prose, but I hope you will gain knowledge thereby. If this part be read, it makes my method of word-signes clear, and anie carefull painstaker who doth inquire here, will undoe my mistery. I have many single Livres prepar'd for my deare Mar- guerite; one is in these other historicall playes, and in the play, Jas. Fourth, of R. Greene. It is her own true love story in the French, and I have placed many a cherish'd secret in the little loving wortheless books: they were kept for her wishes to finde some lovelie reader in future ^Eones. A part of the. one I place in my owne historie, lives so pure no amorous soilure taints the faire pages. So fair was she, no eyes ere look'd upon such a beau- teous mortall, and I saw no other. I saw her French Eve to their wondrous paradise as if no being, no one in all high heav'n's wide realm, save onlie this one Mar- guerite, did ever exist, or in this nether world, ever, in all *King John. 176 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. the ages to be in the infinity of time, might be created. But there came in days, close in the reare, when I would fain have lived my honor'd days in this loving-wise, ruin worthy husband's hopes, and manie a vision, had there bin onlye one single Adam therein, which should be, and was not, solely myselfe. Join Romeo with Troy's famous Cressida, if you wish to know my story. Cressida in this play, with Juliet, both that one in the Comedy, where she first doth enter as Claudio's lady, and the one of my Tragedy just given, are my love, whose minde changed much like a fickle dame's. Years do nere pay his sin's paine-boughten bond in man, or take paine from the remembrance ever keene with the ignomy which this fickle ladie put upon dumbe, blind, deafe, unthinking and unsuspicious lovers. This is tolde plainly in my story. Ever kind, true in houre o' neede as in that of pleasure, I suffer'd most cruell torments in mind. Thus Trojan Cresid', Troylus did en- snare, and the words his sadd soule speaks do say to you that his ill-successe, and that I did have, will here be told, such oneness was in his sorrowfull hap and mine. This makes the next parte. Often mid a waste appeare many purest water-rises. I found a pure cup which nature's prettiest dales do form, filled to its brim as with Nepenthe: this I drank, and so in time I did shuffle off my old amour. Study in this wide realm tells many usefull truths: Time reveals matter long held in darknesse amid this very frank gift, an inheritance which is farre greater than manie a wide realme of earthlie power. *Romeo and Juliet IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 177 These plays contain my early history. Conjoine the part of my other great plaie named when I gave you this taske, Julius Caesar, Henry the Eight, Fift and Fourth, . just as I put them here, i. e., in this order, to make the plays, whereof events of such importancy, and of so great accompte do make up the plots, my best Cipher was given to a revelation of them, I, ["ay"] events so false, set down in wViting by my wicked mother, that none have wills so strong as to finde out the state of any kind of illes which is laid by for the good opportunitie. The oppor- tunities are at this Queene's orders, therefore not seene, if it so gratifie Elizabeth. Neretheless my labour must bring villainie unto just punition, give the full name of the one who is heir appar- ent * to this kingdom, put to rightes the most important records of these lands, with much hard bought truth, and turne from the lees, or rack a flagon of a red wine, the which, running cold, sendes icie chilles into my soule; ay, crudled blood this wine proves, if you see the cuppe run- . : , ning ore in that soft white hand, and 'tis as from this life of my veines, indeed. And truly you shall not thinke or intimate to men, that the life of my onely born brother could be more dear to some rufian officer, or rugg-headed wild Irishman than to my my heart: but man has at all times- a love still larger for's own life; e. g. in God's owne book you do find many such a Scripture. You may thus see man's heart loveth the life here better vaine as it is ene then eternitie, and if I did prize life as do most men, it may scarce be deemed a wante of courage and of honour. When you have found the larger story hidden in my workes, you may see many things in an unnoted and yet *Trolius and Cressida. 178 BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON. not unnaturall relation. Join Othello, and Life of Richard Second: then Anthony and Cleopatra, Cymbeline, Hamlet, Richard the Third, Timon, and Edward First, placing the same in this order. A great quarto in which you will finde Richard the Second, has none of my letter or epistolic story in the titles: also a part of a Cipher play, with this most heavie tragedie, and a full just accompt therein of all the secret reasons which conduc'd to it, is wanting; but my Folio has no part omitted, and the Cypher is in many of later date than Essex' cruelest torture, for the true rend'ring of his history. You must put your time on the same, lest these more valued workes receive a lesse share of a worke-howr than manie stories that were meere tales for boys, put beside the plaie that I here name A Tragicall-History, since the story is that of Essex, in his dark end. Kings must have some happy guard as firm of heart, and ene so strongly furnisht forth to war, j'ust, turney, or other kind of battel as ancient Alexander, his picked guards. Failing of his helpers, that would-bee king was held for trial for treaso', co'demn'd, made to tell his ambi- tious designes, tortured, for in the prison, vilde men, his keepers, by arts more pitichie-hued than hell, having ob- tain'd a permittance to cause paine sufficiente to burst the scale upon the lipps of maddened Essex, with burning irons put out both lovelie eyes, then coldly executed. No tale of ages before our blessed Saviour suffer'd such death, has one halfe the woe of this. Ev'n the barbarians of anie age, would burn men to cinders lesse murth'rously. O God! forgiveness cometh fro' Thee. Shut not this truest book, my God; shut out my past love's little sunny IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 179 hour, if it soe please Thee, and some of man's worthy work, yet Essex's tragedy here shew forth: then posterity shall know him truly. Read well your many rules which shall tend to a speedie accrument of matter, to be correctly oppos'd to severall simple signes or marks. In these subtile waies I shew when many plaies are to supplie the matter, and also whe' a few will tell much. The most of my keys are words like some portion of the play, such as dead, death, dye, or dying, kill and murth'rous torture when the scene of mur- ther is work'd. The *first were what I most use, if I speak of mine only born brother Essex, such common words that few suspect my volumes had simply hidden the chiefe of the untold story. Your keies must shew you how I, by this new method use my invention. Sure boundes are thus set, or traces showing them. As in your lists you compleatly subdue by skill, so must other sundry hot [contests] be out-fought, but no true pow'r should impropriate moe then is just. True you do look most calmly upon my loss from a safe distance, yet to me the injurie never can be repaired. You will finde them in most every other work I have used. This may not apply in date, or events, I grant. It gives most publickly such, as all other ladies whom Queene E used in Essex' undoing; his well-seen youths with stur- dieness like to the men's, wreaking 'pon all their pitiless vengeance with many a warm hand steep'd as in wine, so red in crimson gore. It did behoove me to be wary, yet for my Prince Eobert I took desperate hurts. As the danger many hundred *Julius Caesar. 180 BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON. times verified fear of our old compeeree, with an angry heart, I ofte saw Essex summon in minio'n to Bit in halles of judgement, in whose hands his very life was in peril. He would turne from the wisest wordes of hundreds, ruled by the hardy sons England so lov'd. Losses unthought of, hpstes of hamperers when; he had put boldest confidence that most loyall helpers would sus- tai' him, with his hasty measures, much weaker tro< as wel as a most utter want of anie true, indubitate rem- nant of every king's whole right, i. e., simple honor, I know, were the controulers which made hi:-- fate eertaine. You will need but my easily learned keies to follow any lost thrids i' the plays, the Life of Essex in the form of prose, two stage-plays, and a story that has a part of his worst factionall effort's failure, many that I name in an unpublished story; some you will find in a play out of print. I published it in Peele's workes. The earlie-t plays that had iny brother's first youth as the time-, and the many though not so rare (so early), unpublisht yet in any forme except that, name Greene as the author. This is but my author-name t' hide * my owne. It serveth al*o as a guard, as none such will be lost in future ages. Yon will finde more o' history in such works, but much of Homer's great poem. It more chiefly makes up my delightsome Hiren the Faire Greeke, a stage-play J pub- lished in Peele's name, and also my Dido, my tragedy of Titus, many poems, A Tale of Troy, Venus and Adonis, Jonson's Masks, and much of Marlowe's translation of Lucan, of Hero and Leander, and the Faerie-Queene, Sheapherd's Calendar which now bear only Spenser's marks Ovid's Elegies, and also the Rape of Lucreece, all Henry the Eighth. IN SHAKESPEARE PLAYS. 181 Greene's wanton verses those mixt poem-prose ftori's, wit- tilie having for our purpose Achilles or others as heroes especially Pandosto, Arraignment o' Paris, (the one last naiiK'f! wii.- piiUi-hc