I. i^ ^ / THE POETICAL RHAPSODY TO WHICH ARE ADDED, SEVERAL OTHER PIECES, BY FRANCIS DAVISON. WITH MEMOIRS AND NOTES, By NICHOLAS HARRIS NICOLAS, Esq. FELLOW OF THE SOCIETY OF ANTICIUARIES. LONDON: WILLIAM PICKERING, CHANCERY LANE. M.DCCC. XXVI. i > > J J > J * * ' . '* J J LONDON : PRIMED UY S. ANU R. BENTLKV, DORSET-STREET. « • t TO CHARLES GEORGE YOUNG, ESQ. FELLOW OF THE SOCIETY OF ANTIQUARIES; THESE VOLUMES >^ ARE MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, ^^ AS A SINCERE AND PERMANENT, THOUGH VERY 4 I INADEQUATE TESTIMONY OF ESTEEM FOR HIS CHARACTER, AND OF GRATITUDE FOR HIS FRIENDSHIP. at CM "^. A 2 4 ^ 458656 PREFACE. The favourable manner in which the early impres- sions of the Poetical Rhapsody were received, to- gether with the intrinsic merit of its contents, perhaps justifies the expectation that the present edition will meet with a reception no less gratifying. In the lapse of two centuries, the public taste with respect to literature has naturally varied ; and works which, at their first aj)pearance, were hailed with rap- turous applause, have sometimes been consigned to total oblivion, or exist only in the collections of Antiquaries or Bibliographers ; whilst, on the other hand, the same period gave birth to writers, whose productions will be co-existent with our language. Thus, though, of the many stars which formed the Poetic constellation that irradiated the reign of Eliza- beth, some have become totally extinct, or shine with diminished brightness ; there are, nevertheless, a few which will ever retain their pristine lustre; and PUEFACE. like the planets which govern the revolutions of the natural, exercise a most powerful control over the literary world. A Miscellany, formed of a few articles from the pens of many of the eminent individuals alluded to, as well as of those whose claims upon our admiration, though less strong, are not wholly without foundation, cannot, it is presumed, fail of becoming to some extent popu- lar; for at the same time that it preserves many pieces of well-known poets, which are not inserted in the usual editions of their works, the effusions of several will be found, whose productions do not elsewhere exist. The Poetical Rhapsody first appeared in 1602; it was much enlarged and reprinted in 1608 ; again, with many additions, in 1611 ; and, after under- going a new arrangement, a fourth edition was pub- lished in 1621. It consisted of Sonnets, Odes, Elegies, Madrigals, and other Poems, by some of the most distinguished writers of the reigns of Elizabeth and James the First ; and was edited by Francis Davi- son, the eldest son of that victim of Queen Eli- zabeth's cowardice and treachery, William Davison, one of her secretaries of state. In 1814, this Collection was reprinted at the Lee Priory press by Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges ; but the impression, like that of the other reprints of the Eli- zabethan ])oetry by that accomplished antiquary, PREFACE. was limited to one hundred copies : an arrangement which tended in a very slight degree to make the public acquainted Avith our early poets ; for the price and rarity of a copy of the new, was very little less than that of one of the original editions. The contributors to the Rhapsody, which has been pronounced by a highly competent judge, to be the most valuable miscellany of the day, were Sir Philip Sydney, Edmund Spenser, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir John Davies, Mary, Countess of Pembroke, Sir Henry Wotton, Henry Constable, John Donne, Robert Greene, Thomas Campion, Thomas Watson, Joshua Sylvester, Charles Best. Thomas Spelman, Francis Davison, and his brother VValter ; and a very extensive proportion, extending to nearly one hundred pages, was by a poet whose initials are said to have been A. W , but whose name has never transpired — a circumstance which his merit renders equally an object of surprise and regret. Of the value of the pieces contained in the collec- tion, it seems almost superfluous to say any thing. If the illustrious names of Spenser, Raleigh, and Sydney, do not attract attention, the editor cannot Hatter him- self that any recommendation of his, will produce it ; and those who peruse the poems will of course be alone influenced by their own judgment. It has also been usual to prefix to a new edition of works of this nature, some observations on the Poetry of the time ; but in the present instance they appear to be uncalled for, PREFACE. because the best possible data for forming an opinion on the subject is afforded by the contents of the volumes, from their presenting specimens of seventeen poets of the period. Under these circumstances it will only be further remarked, that the Lee Priory. Edition of the Rhap- sody, in which the various readings of each of the other impressions are minutely noticed, was reprinted from the edition of 1608; and that the present was taken from a copy of that of 1611, from the belief that that edition was the last which was published during the life-time of the original editor, and consequently that it received his final corrections. The spelling has been modernized throughout — a change upon the propriety of which the best judges are at issue, and for which the Editor has no other apology than the very unsettled state of orthography in the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries, in proof of which it is merely necessary to state, that the same word is frequently written in different ways in one line. This alteration may also be justified by the fact that it has been made in those copies of Shakspeare which are the most generally read. With this exception the text has only been disturbed where an obvious typographical error required it, or in those instances stated in the notes. Every material difference be- tween the text of the different editions is specified; for which, from the rarity of the early impressions. PREFACE. the editor acknowledges himself indebted to the Lee Priory edition, which had been collated with each of them by Mr. Haslewood, whose research and accuracy are a full security for their correctness ; but, from an unwillingness to crowd the pages with useless references, mere literal variations have not always been pointed out. The notes likewise contain such illustrations and explanations of the text as seemed likely to render it more generally understood. To the present edition of the Poetical Rhapsody many important additions have been made ; it having been the editor's plan to render these volumes a per- fect collection of the writings of Fuancis Davison. Besides translations of some Psalms by him and by his brother Christopher, the greater part of which were first printed by Sir Egerton Brydges, the following articles from his pen have been inserted; nearly the whole of which were copied from his own manu- scripts, and are for the first time published. The Dialogue between the Sqitire, Proteus, Arnphi- trite, and Thamesis, in the Gray's Inn Masque, 1594. Fragments of Poems and Anagrams. A Censure upon Machiavcl's Florentine History. Imperfect. Answer to Mrs. Mary Cornwallis, pretended Countess of Bath's Libel, against the Countess of Cumberland. To the work, biograjjliical notices of each of the contributors, and also, for the reasons assigned, of PHEFACE. Sir Edward Dyer and Fulke Greville afterwards Lord Brooke, are prefixed. The account of Francis Davison and of Sir Edward Dyer, will, it is pre- sumed, be thought particularly worthy of attention, from the many curious original letters which are introduced. Of these letters the- extraordinary com- munication from Dyer to Sir Christopher Hatton, respecting Queen Elizabeth, which it is believed has not hitherto been printed, must be read with no common interest, for it appears to throw considera- ble light upon the delicate question of her Majesty's moral character. These prefatory remarks cannot be concluded with- out the expression of the Editor's gratitude for the assistance with which he has been favoured by those three celebrated poetical antiquaries. Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges, Mr. Park, and JMr. Haslewood. To Sir Egerton Brydges, for the valuable notes and illus- trations in the 1/^e Priory edition of the Rhapsody; and to INIr. Park and Mr. Haslewood, for their kind and proni])t attention to his personal applications for information, his best thanks are therefore eminently due. February, 1826. CONTENTS OP VOLUME THE FIRST. Biographical Notices. Francis Davison Christopher Davison Walter Davnson Sir Philip Sydney Sir Edward Dyer Sir Fulke Greville . Mary, Countess of Pembroke Sir Walter Raleigh Sir John Davies Edmund Spenser Joshua Sylvester / Henry Constable /' Robert Greene Sir Henry Wotton / John Donne Thomas Campion / Charles Best Thomas Spelman •Thomas Watson A. \r. in Iviii Ixi Ixiii Ixvii Ixxxviii xci xciii cii cv cix cxi cxiii cxviii cxx cxxi cxxii . il.id. cxxiv (XXV CONTENTS. Page Title Page to the Poetical Rhapsody Dedication . . . . , . , Hi To the Reader ...... v Yet other Twehe Wonders of the World . . . 1 A Lottery ...... 5 A Contention betwixt a Wife, a Widow,, and a Maid . 12 The Lie ...... 24 Two Pastorals upon meeting Sir Edward Dyer and Fulke Greville ...... 29 Dispraise of a Courtly Life . . . . . 32 A Fiction how Cupid made a Nymph wound herself with his arrows . . . . . .36 A Dialogue between Two Shepherds, Thenot and Piers, in Praise of Astrea . . . . . 39 A Roundelay . . . . . .42 Strephon's Palinode . . . . . . 44 Eclogue . . . . . .49 Eclogue entitled Cuddy . . . . . 62 Cuddy's Emblem . . . , .67 An Eclogue upon the Death of Sir Philip Sydney . . 68 Eclogue . . . . . . .78 Eclogue concerning Old Age . . . . 81 Sonnets, Odes, Elegies, and Epigrams, by Francis and Walter Davison. A Complaint . . . . . • 87 Inscriptions . . . . . . . 91 A Dialogue in Imitation of that between Horace and Lydia 94 Madrigals ....... 96 Sonnets . . . ' . . . 97, 98 Madrigal upon his Departure . . . .99 Epigrams translated from Martial . . . . 100 Epigrams . . . . . . .105 CONTENTS. Page Sonnets. Dedication of these Rhymes to his First Love . . 108 • That he cannot hide or dissemble his Affection . ibid. Upon his Absence from her . . . .109 Upon presenting her with Speech of Gray's Inn Masque in 1595 . . . . . . 110 Elegy. He henceforth renounceth his food, and former delight in Music, Poesy, and Painting . .111 Sonnet to Pity . . • • . . 113 Ode. That only her beauty and voice please him . 114 Madrigals to Cupid . . . . .115 Upon his Mistress' sickness and his own health . . 116 He begs a Kiss ...... ibid. Ode. Upon her protestation of kind affection, having tried his sincere fidelity . . . . 118 His restless Estate . . . . .119 Elegy. Letters in Verse . . . . . 120 Ode. Being deprived of her looks, &c. he desireth her to write to him ..... 128 Madrigal. Allusion to the confusion of Babel . . 131 Sonnets. Upon her acknowledging his desert, yet rejecting his affection ...... 132 Her Answer . . . . . . ibid. His Farewell to his unkind and inconstant Mistress . 133 A Prosopopoeia, where his heart speaks to his second Lady's breast . . . . .134 Upon her giving him back the paper whereon the former Song was written, as though it had been an answer thereunto . . . . . . 135 Commendation of her Beauty, Stature, Behaviour, and Wit . . . . . .136 To her Hand, upon her giving him her Glove . .137 CONTENTS. Page Cupid proved a Fencer . . . . .137 Upon her commending his Verses to his First Love . 138 He compares himself to a Candle Fly , . . iliid. Answer to her question, What is Love ? . . .139 That all other Creatures have their abiding in Heaven, Hell, Earth, Air, Water, or Fire, but he in all of them ibid. Upon his timorous Silence in her Presence . . . 140 Upon her long Absence ..... ibid. Upon seeing his Face in her Eye . . . . 141 Upon her hiding her Face from him . . .142 Upon her Beauty and Inconstancy . . . . ibid. A Dialogue between a Lover's Flaming Heart and his Lady's Frozen Breast . . . .142 For what cause he obtains not his Lady's favour . .144 A Quatrain . . . . . .145 Sonnet. To a Worthy Lord now dead, upon presenting him with Caesar's Commentaries as a New Year's Gift . . . . . . . 146 To Samuel Daniel, Prince of English Poets . .147 Three Epitaphs upon the Death of a rare Child of Six Years old ...... 149 An Inscription for the Statue of Dido . . . 150 REFERENCES TO THE PRODUCTIONS OF THE RESPECTIVE POETS. Page Best, Charles .... 183-4, 304 to 318 Campion, Thomas .... 271 to 273 Constable, Henry . . . . 291 to 293 Davies, Sir John . . . . 1 to 23 Davies, Sir John, \ or I . . . . 261 to 270 Donne, John ' Davison, Francis 45 to 61, 287, 303, 321, 324 to 329, 339 to 350, 352 to the end of the work. Walter . . . . 42 to 44, 172 Francis Davison x or I . . . . 87 to 171 Walter Davison ' Christopher . . . .330, 351 Donne, John. See Davies. Greene, Robert ...... 247 Pembroke, Mary, Countess of . . 39 to 41 Raleigh, Sir Walter . . . . 276 to 278* • Sir Egerton Bi-ydges also attributes the Poems in pp. 24, 78, 274, 284, 289, umlThe Ajiatomy of Love, in p. 295, to Raleigh, but the grounds upon which he has done so cannot be relied on. IIEFERENCKS. Spelmau, Thomas Spenser, Edmond Sydney, Sir Philip Sylvester, Joshua Watson, Thomas 246, 278 to 281 290 29 to 35 . 285 to 286 . 173 to 183 W. A. 36 to 38, 62 to 77, 86, 185 to 246, 248 to 260 The Poems which cannot with certainty be assigned to their atithors, occur in pp. 24, 78, 274, 282 to 284, the Madrigal in p. 287, 289, and from page 294 to 302. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF THE CONTRIBUTORS TO THE POETICAL RHAPSODY. r/'/f'/. "■^B. M i^JK!. ' Z*f*J^ri^ul-UtA-7. Harl. MSS. 1323, f. 248. XXXVIU BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. Nothing more is preserved relating to Davison whilst on his travels, nor is it certain in what year he returned to England ; probably, however, towards the end of the year 1597- The annexed memoranda, rela- tive to the books he took abroad with him, which are taken from the original in his .own autograph,* and written, with his usual neatness, in the order in which it is here given, is deserving of insertion. The notes relative to his MSS. are very curious ; and under the " Manuscripts to get," the productions of some of the most distinguished poets of the age are noticed. Constable, and it is presumed Donne, were contribu- tors to the Rhapsody, and it is likely that these notes were made with a view to that collection. The circumstance of many of his manuscripts being con- nected with the Queen of Scots is explained by the memorable part taken in her execution by his father, and which produced the total wreck of his and his family's fortunes. His mentioning among them his father's Apology, satisfactorily refutes the highly absurd opinion of Mr. Moleville,+ that that docu- ment was " an entire forgery." The memoranda about his " Manuscripts to get," it it is evident, were made after the death of the Earl of Essex in 1600: and the others were perhaps written about the same time. • Harl. MSS. 298, f. 151, et seq. •\ Chronological Abridgement of the History of England, vol. ii. p. 343. f 1 2 2 3 ^ \ PLi 3 4 2 5 3 6 FUANCIS DAVISON. XXXIX A NOTE OF ALL THE RELATIONS WHICH I CARRIED INTO FRANCE, BOTH MINE OWN AND SIR. WROATH'S. 1 1 F.D. Conclave di Clemente 8°' P.W. Breve Discorso sopra 1' Arsenale di Venetia. P. W. Relatione deUa Sig"'' di Venetia quanta Ar- mata mettono in Mare, quanto State & St. P.W. Relatione di Terra Ferma d' Alniza Mo- rengio, 1568. F.D. Relatione di Dalmatia del Zane, 1588. F.D. Nota di tutti i Magistrati di Venetia, 1580. P.W. Relatione di Lucca. P.W. -f-Discorso del Regno di Napoli. Observa- tions out of divers. P.W. Relatione del gran Ducatodi Toscana, 1576. P.W. Del modo d' impationissi * di Portogallo i Re Catolico. P.W. Instructione al Sig"' Lodovico Orsino per la Corte Calolica. P.W. Instructione al Cardinal Gaetano. P.W. Instructione al Sig'"Annibal di Capua, Nun- tio alia Sign^'^ Venetiana. P.W. Essortatione & Escusatione al Re Fran- cesco del tenes Amicitia col Turco. P.W. -fCose di Constantinopoli, 1584. P.W. Relatione di Constantinopoli, del Barbaro, 1573. P.W. Relatione di Constantinopoli, del Soranzo. 4 18 F.D. Relatione del Regno di Sicilia, di Ferrante Gonzaga. chang'd. 5 19 F.D. Problema sopra 1' Imperio Turchesio. • Sic, in the MS. r 4 7 5 8 6 9 7 10 8 11 9 10 12 13 11 14 12 15 13 16 14 17 BIOGRAPHJCAL NOTICES. 6 20 F.D. Relatione del Imperio Turcheso del Seli- doni. 94. 7 21 F.D. Del Imperator Carlo 5° del Navagero, 1546. f Lent to Mf. A. Bacon. 8 22 F.D. Siimmaria Instruttione del Imperio del Turco. 9 23 F.D. Relatione di Spagna di Michel Surianoi 1573. 10 24 F.D. Relatione del Regno di Napoli, di Gero- lamo Lippomani Amb™ a D" Gio. d' Aus- tria. ^ 11 25 F.D. Memoriale quante furtano le RoUe della Crociata & et. al Re di Spagna. 12 26 F.D. Discorso sopro le diiFerenze de' Genevesi. 13 27 F.D. Capitoli na'l Re Philippo & il Duca Cosimo p' le cose di Siena. 14 28 F.D. Instrumentu' Ligae & Foederis inter Pium 6, Philippu' Catolicu' & Venetos, contra Turcas, 1570. 15 29 F.D. Nota dell' Entrate Annue del Regno di Napoli. 16 30 F.D. Discorso sopra la pace fatta da Sig'"iVene- tiani col Turco di ]\fr. Paolo Paruta. f To 31 r. A. Bacon. 17 31 F.D. Cause per le quali la Rep: Venetiana ha fatto la pace col Turco. Incerto. 18 32 F.D. Risposta d' un Spagnuolo alia detta Giasti- ficatione. -f- To Mr. A. Bacon. 1!) 33 F.D. Allegationi intorne le differentie sopra '1 Mar Adriatico, tra li Venetiani & la Casa d' Austria. 20 34 F.D. Relatione delle Cose di Spag-na. Incerto. 1577. 21 35 F.D. Relatione del Imperio Turchesco 1' anno 1594, & perche habbia messo I'armi con- tra Hungaria. FRANCIS DAVISON. xll 22 3G F.D. Relatione dello Stato di Milaiio, 158[). Changed for one of ]Mr. Wroth's. 23 37 F.D. Oratioue del Vescovo Caserta Nuntio Apost^o nelJa dicta di Varsovia, 1596. 15 38 P.W, Nota deUe Entrate della Sede Apostolica. 16 39 P.W. Della Casad' Austria, 1548. 17 40 P.W. Discorso sopra i Soggetti Papapili, a*'- In- certo. 18 41 P.W. Relatione d' Inghilterra di Giovanni Mi- chele, 1557. 19 42 P.W & A vertimenti al Cardinal Men - talto. — 43 P.W. Relatione della Fiandra & perche si rio 1586. 24 44 F.D. Enirate & Spese della Camera Apostolica. 25 45 F.D. Entrate & Spese deUa Sig"^ di Venetia. -j-In hands of Mr. Smyth. 20 46 P.W. Parlamento di Carlo 5 al Re Filippo nella Consignatione delli suoi Stati. 21 47 P.W. Ricordi deU' Imperatore Carlo 5", per il Re Filippo suo figiiuolo, 1548. 26 48 F.D. Ordini necessarii al Regimento d' una Ar- mata. 27 49 F.D. Relatione d'Urbino, di Lazaro Maconigo, 1570. »>I f 22 50 P.W. Relatione de Swizzeri, Grigioni & Valle- p^ I sani, &c. Incerto. 28 51 F.D. Relatione di Savoia del 1576. 23 52 P.W. Relatione di Savoia del S"" Sigismondo di Cavalli, 1563. . 24 53 P.W. Relatione di Savoia del S"" Girolarao Lippo- mani, a" P.W. 24. ^ 1 F.D. 2 P.W 3 P.W 4 P.W. 5. F.D. 6 P.W, 7 P.W xlii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES, On the other side of the preceding list, COSE DI FRANCIA. Ritratti del Regno di Francia. Cose di Francia, 1589. Incerto. Del Re Enrico 3. del Eiltrate, &c. & della Priucipi propinqui alia Corona, lo- Incerto. Relatione di Francia di Gio. Correr. Amba. Veneto. 1°- Relatione di Francia nel tempo di Carlo 9° di Gio- vanni Michele, 15C0. Com'entarii di Francia. An Extract. Lettera responsiva, interno la Francia. Incerto. 8 P.W. L'ra del Card' Moresini legato al Duca d' Vinena. 1589, 9 F.D. Discorso interno al Assolutione di Henrico 4o & ri- ceverlo nel Gremio di Sta Chiesa. 10 F.D. Se '1 Re di Navarra facendosi Catolico, debba esser relenedetto & avettato per Re di Francia.* Incerto. 11 F.D. Risposta d' un Gentilluomo Italiano interno la rebe- ridittione del re Enrico 4. Pregadi. di Venetia. On the next leaf, Books. Tragedies de Mont-Chrestien, fr. Les (Euvres Poetiques du Sieur de la Bergerie. Les Essais Poetiques du Sieur de Perat. Les Travaux sans travail du Sieur d'Aviti. Recueil des GEuvres du S'' Bertault Les (Euvres f du S"" Renyer Nepueu de feu Mr Desportes, Celles du S"" Flaminio Beragno. Les honnestes loisirs du S' de la Mothe Messeme. Les CEuvres de Mad"" de * Sic, in the 31S. •f All from this mark are in another hand. FRANCIS DAVISON. xliii Gournay. Relivre de JMadii"^ de Beaulieii. Rabustes. Les Amours Duvial et de Lunesse. Les advantures de Florida. Celles D strimide. IVIerlyn Cocaye. L'hermapbrodite. Le Livre du S"" Turguet de Mayerne. Le Nouvelle Franciade. Les lUus Frau'ns de Gaule, nouvelle Imprimus. L'image du grand Cap"'' par Pontaymery De la Sagesse, par le S' Charon. Le Sener que Xpien. Le Curte de Henry le Grand 4^ de la nom en France. Les Vengeance dyvines. Le Revers de Fortune. La Perle Evangelicque. Le Miroir de Consolation pour les affliq'. Centre les mal marier par le S' de Cournal Med. vers Noim- ceaux, ou il est amplenaent transfu du Mari-agn. Nouveau Tuanti* de Leucans tre pour le S' de Plessis Morny. Le Livre de M. Duperron Ca"' a M. Casobon, nouvellez imprime. Le Roxam Franceys. Le Contrefeu franc'. La Trompette Fran- coise. Le Paisan francoys. La Philosophie des Esprit. Le Tombeau des heretiques, livre excellent. On another slip of paper are the following notes^ likewise in Davison's hand, PAPERS LENT. -f-A great book of Instructions, to y*^ L. Zouche. ■j-Sir Henry Savile's Oration to ye Queen at Oxford in Latine and English The Bishop of Oxford. Grayes In Sportes under Sir Henry Helmes. Eleaz Hogdsou. ■|-My L. of Salisburie's Negociation in France. ) Mr. H. Biug. Tables of Counsell by Dr. Bing. j Idem. John Dun's * Satyres My br. Christopher. Baronagium AnglijE.:j: Doctor Mondfort. i" — These marks are prefixed in the manuscript. * John Donne, Dean of St. Paxil's. :}: It is very proliahle that the 3IS. thus described is now ex- tant in Ilarl. MSS. ;{()4, f. 102, et seq.^ for that volume contains several papers apparently in Francis Davison's autograph; and xliv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICJ!;s, My Discourse of Saxony. ) ,, Tu T <• T? 1-1^ « > Monsr de la Faille. My Li. ot Essex his Ire to me. * J Rime et Satire d'Ariostcj Sr John Constable. Remembrances. All my hooks and papers w'' my brother Duncom hath. Among wd' specially The great French Bible, Tremellius' Bible, Thevet's Cosmography, 2 vols. Parson's Answer to ye L. Cook, Com'ines. Papers. My Father's Apology. -|-His Answer at y Star-Chamber. -)-Sir Henry Savile's Disconrse of ye Union. Instructions for Ireland. Tables of Counsell. By Dr. Bing. ^Discourses about the Sc. Q. On the other side of the paper marked " Remem- brances," is the following note, over Avhich are several memoranda in the liand of Ralph Starkey, partly erased : Tremellius' Bible ^ 1 Part of Livy, French } ^^ '^'■- Christopher. among other documents is an account of the Baronage of Eng- land., early in the reign of James I., which in some places con- tains additions in a hand very like the Poet's. X This letter is presumed to be that which is printed in p. xxxvii. FRANCIS DAVISON. xly IManuscripts to get. Letters of all sorts, especially by ye late E. of Essex. Orations, Apologies, Instructions, Relations. ,, , :, „ f late Queen, aports, JM asks, and Jiintertaynments, to yf i r^,^ j'- Emblemes & Impresaes. Qy. Those in White-liall Gallery. Anagrams. i Divine. Poems of all sorts -I „ ( Li umane. Psalmes by y*" Countes of Pembroke. Q'f If they shall not bee printed. Psalmes by Joshua Silvester. Psalmes by Sir John Harrington and Joseph HaU.* Satyres, Elegies, Epigrams, &c. by John Don. Qr^. some from Eleaz. Hodgson-)- and Ben Johnson. Poems by Ben Johnson. Hen. Constable's 63 Sonnets. Written Books, Discourses. 3Iy Br Dimcora A great Book of Instructions. Dr Mondford. — Officers of y*- Crown of England and their fees. Baronagium Angliae. Genealogies des Maisons Illustre du Pays Bas. A great Booke of Irish Discourses. Certayne Bandes of yp.Estates to ye Queen, in a Booke. A Booke of Recusants. • Bishop of Exeter. ■f Of the poetical productions of this individual, nothing is known, nor is his name even mentioned by Ritson or Pliihps. It would appear that he was a fellow student in Gray's Inn of Francis Davison's. Some account of him will be found in Bliss, ^^'^ood's Fasti Oxonienses, vol. i. pp. 328, 305. xlvi BIOGIIAPIIICAL NOTICES. Certain Ii'ish I'res in fo. Extract of y^ Booke of Instruction, 40. The Manner of Proceeding against ye Queen of Scotts. Arnies of y^ Nobillity & Gent, of Scotland, 80. Qre ■j-Sir Tho. Smyth's Dialogue touching- ye Q mariage, f. ■fA relation of Spayne, f '. f -(-A Discourse touching ye Matt. l)etween ye D. of "j I Norfolke & ye S. Q. I -' •j'Hales his book for ye succession of ye Heyres of ye J- 410. j F. Queen. I (^ -)- Allegations for Mary Q. of Scotts. J Dialogue betwixt Browne & Fairfaxe touching Forren birth, 40, Parte of Mr. Savil's translation of Tacitus, 4°. A Breef Demonstration of ye State of England & Wales, fo. Mr, Finche his Book of lawe, ould Edition, 4°, -j-Sophistica, by W. Bright, 8''0- Historye des Contes d'Egvemont, 4o. Q""*^ An Extract of Corcelles' Negociation in Scotland, 1586, fo. A devise for having a Marte Towne in England, 1571, fo. Ralfe Lane's Relation of Virginia, fo. Agricolaes life by Mr. Savile, f". Dr Hamon's dialogue touching ye Justice of y^ So. Queen Execution, fo. •j-The Bishop of Rosse's Oration to ye Fr. K. Henry 3. 1574, 40. Certayne Counsellors L'res & Instructions. Ed. 6. fo. -f-Traicte de la France, 4o. Copy of certaine I're to ye Councell. W. D.* Notes touching ye Q. Mariage w' Mr d'Anjou, 40. * Apparently his father's correspondence. FRANCIS DAVISON. xlvii In the next folio, a long list of books* occurs, classed according to subjects; but as the manuscript, though extremely like Francis Davison's writing, is not sufficiently similar to his other papers, to be cer- tain that it was written by him, it is not here in- troduced. In 1600 the young Poet's pen was employed in drawing up a defence of the marriage of Lady Eliza- beth Russell with William Bourchier, third Earl of Bath, who had been sued by Mary, daughter of Sir Thomas Cornwallis, in 1581, relative to a marriage stated to have been contracted with the Earl some years before ; the particulars of which, as well as the article itself, are given towards the end of this work. This production, which is very well written, displays considerable talent, and throws much light on that very singular affair. It also affords some information about the writer himself, for it appears that he then enjoyed the protection of the noble house of Russell, to two members of which, the Countesses of Cumberland and Warwick, sisters of Elizabeth, Countess of Bath, he afterwards addressed an ode in the Rhapsody. Speaking of that family he observes, as the motive for undertaking the task of refuting JMary Cornwallis's charges, " to which myself am specially obliged, and have always vowed my poor duty and service." To what extent their patronage was bestowed we have * This list is very curious and is well deserving of the atten- tion of the bibliographer. xlviii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. now no means of learning, but the probability is, that he did not derive much advantage from it. About the middle of 1602 Francis Davison published the first edition of the Poetical Rhapsody, which was thus noticed in a letter from Mr. Chamberlaine to Sir Dudley Carleton,* dated 8tli July, 1602 : " It seems young Davison means to take another course, and turn poet, for he hath lately set out certain Sonnets and Epi- grams." This allusion to " another course," evidently meant from the study of the law, for which profession it ap- pears he was intended. The preface to the Rhapsody affords some interesting particulars both of the work and of its editor. Having, he informs us, yielded to the solicitation of others, that he would publish some of his poems, he added to them several by his brother Walter, and his other friends, without their knowledge or consent; and intended that their names should have been withheld: but the printer not only affixed to the greatest part the initials of the respective authors, but inserted several by Sir Philip Sydney, with the motive "to grace the forefront," ar, " to make the book grow to a competent volume;" and he concludes by boldly set- ting criticism at defiance, and by intimating his inten- tion of soon publishing a work of more importance. The Rhapsody, however, contains the only part of his productions which appears ever to have been hitherto printed ; but there are strong grounds for believing * Addit. MSS. in the British Museum, 4173, f. 125. FRANCIS DAVISON. xlix that he was then engaged upon, or at least meditated, some other literary undertaking. A manuscript in the British Museum* contains the following notes for a " Relation of England," which seem to have been thrown together as a sort of outline for a work with that title, and, from the internal evidence, appear to have been written between the years 1605 and 1612. Whether this was the " graver work," to which he alluded in the Preface to the Rhapsody in 1602, can- not be determined, but the possibility that such was the case, together with the curious specimen they pre- sent of the manner in which he arranged his ideas, render their insertion desirable. FOR A RELATION OF ENGLAND. Tlie 3 Kingdoms. England. S' Th. Smyth's de Rep. Anglor'. Scotland. Camden's Britannia. Ireland. Lambert's book written. Relations of England in In wh':*' are 4 severall Nations. Botero. English. Metterland's Story of Welche. yc Low Countries. Irish I ^*'^'" English ^ L Wilde. Southerne. Scottish VChronacles. Scottish Hylanders and Irish ) Ilanders. Survey of London — Stowe. The Fortes, Citties, Strong Townes, Castles, Garrisons. The king's ships. Ships of (^^'•'■- L Marchants. * Harl. MSS. 304, f. TJ. e BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. Number of Artillery, j _ > of all sortes. The Armory of ye Tower. The People, &c. Ancient before Henry 7th "J England. The Nobillity, Created since, before K. J. rot Ireland. Newly created since. ' Scotland. Lordes of the Counsaile. TheKing \ with thr. The Prince. Lieutenants of Counties. TheQueen J '''"'''"'"• Duke of York. Officers of Household. Lady Elizabeth. Great Officers of State. Lady Judges and ye King's learn- ed Counsell. Cheefe Men in every Shire. The Archbishops and Bishops. Names, learning. Revenues, chief Houses. Ambassadors abroade in France. Spayne. Italy. Archeduke. States. Ambassadors fro' France. Spayne. Venice. Archduke. States. D. of Florence, &c, Government of London, with ye cheefe and richest Citizens. All ye King's Courte, with ye Cheef Officers. President of Wales, President of ye North, of Scotland. Deputy of Ireland, President of Munster, L. Evers.* L. Sheffield. Sr Arthur Chichester. Sr Henry Broncker, L. D. * Lord Zouche's name was first inserted. FRANCIS DAVISON. li Governourof Connought, E. of Clanrickard ; his Deputy, Rob. Remington. Gov. of the Isle of Wight, Earl of Southampton, Governour of Garnzay, Si" Thomas Leighton. Governour of Jersay, ' S"" John Payton. SiUey. Alderney. Leiutenant of y Tower, S"^ William Wade. Governour of Portesmouth Capt. of the Fort of Plimouth, S"" Ferdinando Gorges. Barwick. Queen-borough Castle, S"" Edward Hoby. Dover Castle The 3 Fortes in y« Downes. Ambassadors. In France, S^ Gary. In Spagne, Sr Cornwallis. W^th ye Archeduke, Sr Thomas Edmonds. W"" ye States, Mr. Winwood. In Venice, S^ Henry Wotton. Ambassadors here fro' The French King. King of SpajTie. Arch Duke. States, Sr Noel Caroun. Venetians. D. of Florence. At this period in Francis Davison's life^ we are left without the vslightest information of his future career, beyond his being mentioned in his father's will in 1608; and the exertions made by his present biographer to trace him to the close of his existence have entirely failed of success. It was this research, however, ^vhich e 2 lii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. discovered the fragments at the end of this work, and his other articles and memoranda here printed. The unfortunate death of the Earl of Essex was a severe blight to the prospects of the Davison family, for during the Avhole of the Secretary's misfortunes that generous nobleman proved himself a warm and most faithful friend ;* and had he continued in power, the fate of his children would, there is every cause for believing, have been very diiferent. Francis Davison lost his father on the 23d or 24th of December, 1608; t and by his will he was bequeathed, out of the profits of the office of Gustos Brevium of the King's Bench, which had been granted to Secretary Davison and his assigns during the lives of his friends and relations, George Byng of Wrotham, Esquire, and Henry Byng of Gray's Inn, Gent, one hundred pounds per annum ; and after the payment of certain incumbrances, he was to have half the profits of these appointments, with reversion " to such children as he should leave of his body."t Here, all trace of this accomplished man is lost, nor can the period of his demise be satisfactorily establish- ed, though some circumstances persuade us that he died before the year 1619. There can scarcely be a doubt that his brothers and himself, after their father's death, became reduced to a state of poverty; for the Secretary died much involved, and left nothing but the emolu- ments of his office of Gustos Brevium of the King's Bench * Life of William Davison^ Secretary of State to Queen Elizabeth. «vo. 1822. t IWd, FRANCIS DAVISON. Hll to pay his debts and support his children ; and in 1610, one of his executors was accused, as will be more fully noticed when speaking of Christopher Davison, of having appropriated that appointment to his own ad- vantage. Though educated for the legal profession, Francis Davison was never called to the bar ; and the service of the ]\Iuses, for which he appears to have abandoned more useful occupations, seldom yields any substantial advantage ; and, as one of the contributors to his own work justly observes, Praise is the greatest prize that poets gain, A simple gain that feeds them not a whit.* An obscure life, and an early grave, may therefore, with apparent certainty, be considered to have been his lot ; nor is it the blind partiality of biography Avhich assumes that his genius, talents, and accomplish- ments, merited a far different fate. His person, from no known portrait being extant, cannot of course be imagined; but judging from the following line in speaking of himself, it may be concluded that his face was much marked with the small pox: " Is 't that my pock-hoVd face doth beauty lack ?" -j- Of his merits as a Poet, it would be almost super- fluous to say any thing, because ample specimens are contained in the following sheets upon which to form a judgment. Most of those pieces were, however, as he himself informs us in his Preface, written whilst he * Page 70. t Page 144. liv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. was on his travels, at which time he could not have been above twenty years of age ; hence they ought not to be judged with the same severity as if they had been the productions of a maturer period of life. Without being inHuenced by this consideration, it is not more than is warranted by truth to say, that if he did not reach the excellence of some of his contemporaries, he far surpassed many who are infinitely better known to posterity ; and in an age when almost every gentle- man was a Sonneteer, we may fairly class Francis Davison amongst the few who were more indebted to nature than to art for tlieir poetical qualifications. Sir Egerton Brydges, whose accurate judgment of early English poetry few will have the hardihood to dispute, has thus described Davison's productions : " A thought of native beauty, a felicitous combination of simple, elegant, and energetic words frequently catch the ear, and convey a sudden thrill of sympathy and admiration to the heart." * His translations of the Psalms are not only the happiest of his efforts, but they have strong pretensions to be placed amongst the best versions of the inspired monarch which have ever appeared. It is not, however, merely as a Poet that Francis Davison is to be considered ; for from the large portion of his correspondence and other papers, now printed, we are enabled to estimate his talents on other sub- jects. His letters prove him to have been no less high-minded and affectionate, than he was intelligent • Lee Priory Edition of the Rhapsody^ Part III. p. 2. FRANCIS DAVISON. Iv and accomplished ; but his prudence is certainly far from being satisfactorily evinced. Nor does it appear that at the period when our information about him closes he had acquired greater steadiness of conduct; for his father's office was ordered by the Secretary to be executed by his second son, Christopher, he paying a proportion of the emoluments to his brother Francis. Notwithstanding that Secretary Davison had several children, he only makes a provision in his will for such issue as his sons Francis and William may leave ; from which it does not seem too much to infer, that they had each a family in 1608 : but on this point nothing positive has been ascertained. Besides the articles by Francis Davison which are printed in this work, there are several manuscripts in the Harleian collection, which bear a strong resem- blance to his writing, and may with great probability be attributed to him, though the identity is not suf- ficiently established to justify their insertion. Of these the principal are, " That the Lord Treasurer Burleigh endeavoured to suppress and keep down Mr. Secretary Davison." *— Harl. MSS. 290, f. 237- " Names of persons of rank put to death during the reigns of Henry VII., Henry VIII., Edw. VI., and Mary."— Ibid. f. 260. " Observables to be noted by a Travel- ler." \—Ibid. f. 261, 262. " The Cypher used by Se- • Printed in the Appendix to the Life of Secretary Davisoji before cited. •|- These notes are nearly a verbatim copy, so far as they extend, of the first part of a small vohime, 16mo printed in Ivi BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. cretary Davkon."— Ibid. 291, f. 84. And " Tabula Analytica Politica." — Ibid. 588, f. 3. INIany of the papers of Secretary Davison now ex- tant, are' indorsed by bis son Francis ; and the follow- ing circumstances connected with them may serve to some extent as a clue by which to unravel the mystery in which the poet's fate is involved. The greatest part of his manuscripts, as well as those of his father, were in 1619 in the possession of the indefatigable Ralph Starkey ; and on the 10th of August in that year, the privy council issued a warrant, directed to Sir Thomas Wilson, commanding him to repair to Starkey 's lodg- ings, and to seize on all such papers and matters of state as in time past were in the custody of Secretary Davison.* That Francis Davison's manuscripts Avere once in the hands of Starkey is manifest, from the writing of the latter being in several of them now ex- tant. These afterwards became the property of Sir Simon D'Ewes ; and it is difficult, if not impossible, to explain in what Avay either of the individuals in ques- tion became possessed of them ; but the conclusion seems evident, that as those belonging to the poet were in the custody of Ralph Starkey in 1619, he must have died before that year. 1633, entitled Profitable Instructions, describing what special Observations are to be taken by Travellers in all Nations, States, and Countries, pleasant and profitable, by the three much admired Robert late Earl of Essex, Sir Philip Sydney, and Secretary Davison. In Harl. M8S. 6893, is an imperfect copy of the same, styled " Most brief but excellent instructions for a Tra- veller, written by Secretary Davison for his son," Hence it may be concluded, that Francis Davison transcribed the copy noticed above, from his father's manuscript, for his own use. • Harl. MSS. 286, f. 160. FRANCIS DAVISON. Ivii The following Avretched acrostic by W. Fletcher, on Francis Davison's name, and indorsed by him — " W. Fletcher's acrosticke upon my name," is extant in the Harleian Collection* in the British Museum., " F aithfvil he is, and fully will perform R espective promise to his own elect : A ttend therefore his word, which will us foiin. N ot any person is of true respect C ountry or nation, with the Holy one, (1 n all on earth) respect of persons none. S ince it so, let all submission make D esiring God to guard us in his fear. A ssuring then ourselves for Christ's sake V isions by night will then to us appear. I n hope whereof I do my prayers rear S ith nothing else, in me contignate is, O nee every day to pray, I will not fail N ot friend nor foe 'gainst Davison prevail. Secretary Davison left by Katherine Spelman before mentioned, four sons ; Francis, Christopher, William, and Walter; and two daughters, wife of Town- ley, and Katherine, who married Duncombe, and obtained letters of administration to her father's will ; but no account of either of his children besides what is contained in these pages, has been discovered. The ancestry of the Secretary is conjectured to have been obscure, from the circumstance of his having in 1586 received a grant of arms; namely. Gules, a Stag liippant, Or. Crest, on a wreath of the colours a Stag's head, couped at the shoulders, and winged, Or; t pre- vious to which he had used for his crest, a Stag trip- pant, pierced through the neck ivith an arrow.X * In Harl. MSS. 34?, f. 148. ■f Coolers Grants, in the College of Arms. X Vide his seal attached to several letters in the British Mu- seum. CHRISTOPHER DAVISON. Christopher Davison was, as has been just ob- served;, the second son of Secretary Davison. It is presumed that he was admitted of Gray's Inn in 1597,* from which time, until the death of his father in De- cember 1608, nothing is known of him. By the Secre- tary's will, he was appointed to execute the office of Gustos Brevium of the King's Bench, paying to his brothers certain proportions of the emoluments arising from it. In March 1610, however, he petitioned parliament, and as that document throws much light on the affairs of his family, it is deserving of notice. His petition stated, that " Queen Elizabeth, by letters patent, 19th January, 21 Eliz. granted to William Davison, Esquire, the office of Gustos Brevium of the King's Bench, habendum after the death of one Richard Payne, then Clerk of the same office. The King's Majesty, after the death of the said Richard Payne, by his letters patent, 25 July, 5 Jaq. confirmed and ratified the Queen's grant, and further (at the humble petition of the said William Davison) granted the reversion of the said office unto George Byng, of Wrotham in Kent, and Henry Byng of Gray's Inn, whose names he used in trust for the benefit of him and his children, and payment of his debts, the greatest part * Harl. MSS. 1912. CHRISTOPHER DAVISON. lix whereof was such debts as were owing to them. William Davi- son dieth, and (by his will in writing reciteth the said trust) willeth the said George Byng and Henry Byng, or one of them, to exercise his said office until his debts and dai"jhters' portions be paid, and after such payment, or security put in for that pur- pose, to assign over the said office, with the execution thereof, to Christopher Da^-ison, second son of the said "W^illiam Davison. After the death of the said William Davison, George Byng and Henry Byng, by virtue of the letters patent, were sworn in and admitted. Since, Christopher Davison hath offered payment of all sums of money and charges whatsoever to the Byngs, owing or by them disbursed, and to put in security for payment of the other debts, and whatsoever else is required by his father's will ; upon performance of which, he desireth (according to his father's will) the said office to be assigned over unto him. Henry Byng, confessing the trust, is well contented ; but George Byng, making many pretences, unconscionably refuseth. The humble suit of Christopher Davison imto the High Court of Parliament is, that, after satisfaction of all debts and demands to the said Byngs, and sufficient security put in for the payment of all other the creditors of his father (whom his special desire is to have satis- fied), the said office may be settled upon him and his assigns, according to his father's will, during the lives of the said George Byng and Henry Byng, and the longer liver of them. The reason why he is driven to seek an Act of Parliament is, for that he must disburse so great sums of money to the Byngs, which they affirm to amount to £2000 and upwards, and besides to pay the debts of his father, being very great. All which he cannot furnish himself of without the help of his friends, whom (unless it be by Act of Parliament confirmed unto him) he can- not sufficiently secure, for that it is litigious whether the office be in the King's gift, or the Lord Chief Justice's. And the Raid office hath, in like sort, been heretofore confirmed to one John Payne, by Act of Parliament, 'Mi Hen. VI 11. Ix BIOGIIAPIIICAL NOTICES. " 1st. This is all the estate that William Davison hath left his children ; and if they should be detained from it, they are all utterly undone. " 2nd. 'William Davison's creditors, (which are many, and which, by his will, he desireth should be satisfied) by the course which George Byng holdeth (denpng the trust) be all defrauded, when Christopher Davison wiU pay them all, according as his father hath appointed by his will.* •A bill connected with this petition was read on the 14th March, 1610, and again on the 27th of the same month ; and on the 10th July following, a motion was made for counsel to be heard upon it ; + but nothing more on the subject has been discovered, nor does the slightest notice of Christopher Davison occur after this period. Though, like his brothers Francis and Walter, Christopher Davison Avas a poet, it does not appear that any of his productions are inserted in the Rhap- sody ; and his only literary efforts which are known to be extant, are translations of some Psalms, which will be found in this work, and which are not without merit. • Lansdowne MSS. 91, f. 56. -f- Journals of the House of Commons, vol. i. p. 448. WALTER DAVISON. It is to the Preface to the Poetical Rhapsody ■alone that we are indebted for the little information we possess of Walter Davison. A letter is however extant, dated London, 23rd December, 1581, from his father. Secretary Davison, to Lady Mason,* Walter's great grandmother, stating that he had " a young son" born on the IMonday preceding, and that he wished her to join with his honour her husband, Mr. Vicechamber- lain, and her good nephew. Sir Thomas Shirley,* in standing for him, though it was contrary to the usual custom to wish a wife and husband to act as sponsors upon the same occasion. The "young son" alluded to was, there is little doubt, the subject of this notice ; and we may therefore conclude that he was born in London on Monday, 17th December, 1581, and Avhich agrees perfectly with his brother Francis saying, in 1602, that he was not eighteen when the poetical effu- sions by him, which are introduced into the Rhapsody, were written. About the year 1602, Francis Davison also informs us that Walter was in the Low Country wars ; after which time no account of him has been " See the genealogical table in a former page. Ixii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. found. He is not mentioned in his father's will, and it is therefore highly probable that he died between the years 1602 and 1608, unmarried. Walter Davison's poems must, at least, be thought to hold out a fair promise of future excellence; for they ought, in justice, to be considered as the mere germs of a genius, which was never allowed to attain maturity. SIR PHILIP SYDNEY. Of Sir Philip Sydney, the Phoenix of his own, and the admiration of succeeding times, scarcely any thing can be related which will possess a claim to no- velty ; for who is there unacquainted with every trait in a character which affords the most gratifying ob- jects for contemplation, which can be found in British biography ? Magnanimity, Heroism, Poetry, and Vir- tue, appear to have erected their thrones in his breast ; and he whom sovereigns and their subjects equally loved, honoured, and mourned, must have been possessed of no ordinary merit. The idol of his own family ; the friend of the best and wisest of his contemporaries ; the patron of learning ; and, at once, the ornament and the votary of every thing chivalrous and good. Such is the picture presented to us of this illustrious indivi- dual by those who, from being the companions of his childhood, as well as of his maturer years, were un- doubtedly competent to form a correct judgment of his merits. The historian, the biographer, the poet, and the painter, have combined to perpetuate the glory of his actions ; and it must be confessed that they have rather derived celebrity from, than conferred it upon their subject. Sydney's splendid career, though short, was XIV BIOGUAPHICAL NOTICES. terminated in a manner highly consistent with his life. He died on the bed of honour ; and, as if nothing should be left for imagination to supply in the charac- ter of a Hero, the brightest and most magnanimous of all his deeds was that which arose from his fatal wound ; and familiar as the circumstance is, from the painting of a distinguished artist, it is not possible to resist re- lating it. When carried from the field of battle, ex- hausted from pain and loss of blood, he eagerly de- manded some Avater ; but at the moment it was brought, his eyes fell on a dying soldier, and, turning the vessel from him just as it had approached his lips, he desired that it might be given to the object of his compassion, observing, " This man's necessity is still greater than mine." Notwithstanding all which has been -written on Sir Philip Sydney, a chronological abstract of the principal events in his life,* may prove acceptable. 1554. Nov. 29 Sir Philip Sydney was born. 1569. Admitted a Member of Christ Church, Oxford. Proposals made for his marriage with Mildred, daughter of Lord Burleigh. 1572. May Left England to travel on the Continent. Formed an intimacy with the celebrated Hu- bert Languet. 1574. Arrived at Venice. Became acquainted Avith Tasso and Ursinus. 1575. May Returned to England. 1576. Appointed Ambassador to the Court of Vienna. * From Zouch's Life of Sydney. SIR PHILIP SYDNEY. Ixv 1577- Held the office of Cup Bearer to the Queen. 1578. Was invited by John Casimir, Count Palatine of the Rhine, to join his army, which he declined. 1579. Wrote to the Queen to dissuade her from mar- rying Monsieur. 1580. Quarrelled with the Earl of Oxford. Retired to Wilton, and composed the Arcadia. 1581. Was solicited to assist Don Antonio in obtain- ing the Throne of Portugal, but with which request he did not comply. Was Knight of the Shire for the county of Kent. 1582. Accompanied JMonsieur to Antwerp. Composed the "• Defence of Poesy." * Spenser dedicated his ShejjhenVs Cale7i(lar to Sydney. 1583. Jan. 2? Applied to r>urleigh to l)e joined with the Earl of Warwick '<■ in his office of ordinance," but did not succeed. Married Frances, daughter and sole heir of Sir Francis Walsingham. A marriage had long been contemplated between Sydney and Penelope, daughter of Walter Deve- reux, Earl of Essex, Init which never took place. 1584. January. Received the honour of Knighthood at Windsor Castle. Was appointed to condole with Henry III. of France on the" death of his brother the Duke of Anjou; but it does not appear that he proceeded on his mission. Wrote his Answer to " Leicester's Common- wealth." ./ Ixvi BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. 1585. Proposed to join Sir Francis Drake in his se- cond expedition. Elizalietli, his only child, was born. Is supposed to have lieen named as one of the competitors for the crown of Poland, but he is said to have declined the dignity. Constituted a Privy Councillor. Nov. 7- Was appointed Governor of Flushing. Promoted to the office of General of the Horse by his uncle the earl of Leicester. 158(5. May. Lost his father, Sir Henry Sydney, K. G. July. Took the town of Axell, in Flanders. August. His mother. Lady Mary Sydney, sister of Robert Earl of Leicester, died. Sept. 22. Was mortally wounded at the battle of Zut- phen. Oct. 17. Died at Arnheim, a;t. 32. Nov. 5. His body arrived in London. 1587. Feb. 16. Was buried with great pomp at St. Paul's. Sir Philip Sydney's contributions to the Rhapsody consist only of Two Pastorals upon his 7neeting with his Two worthy friends and felloiv Poets, Sir Edward Dyer and Sir Fulke Grcoille, p. 29 to 35. SIR EDWARD DYER. Notwithstanding that neither this individual nor FuLKE Grbvillk, afterwards Lord Brooke, were con- tributors to the Rhapsody, yet, as they are alluded to in it, and were the intimate friends of Sir Philip Sydney, between whom he ordered by his will that his books should be divided, the following particulars may be thought acceptable ; especially as many of the circumstances relating to Dyer have not before been noticed. The highly curious letters from him to his patrons and associates, one of which is peculiarly de- serving of attention, because it is presumed to afford most important information on Queen Elizabeth's mo- ral character, are believed to be for the first time printed. Sir Edward Dyer was the son of Sir Thomas Dyer, of Somersetshire, Knt. the representative of an ancient family in that county, by his second wife, the daughter of Lord Poynings.* He is considered by Anthony Wood to have been admitted either of Baliol • Harl. MSS. 1141. The Orif/inal Heralds' Visitation of So- mersetshire in 1 f»2.'{. But Sir Edward's motlier wiis, it is more prol>al)le, the daugliter of one of tlie fjas/ard hrotliers of the Thomas Lord Poyiiiiif^s, who died ivithout issue, l!5th May, 1545, and who was the only person at that time to wliom the title of peerage could be applieil. . /2 Ixviii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. College, or of Broadgate Hall, Oxford ; but, like his fellow poet Daniel, he left the university without a degree, and travelled on the Continent. On his return, he is- supposed to have become attached to the court, and afterwards became known by the productions of his Bluse. The earliest proof we possess of his deriving any benefit from his attendance upon his sovereign, was in the eighth year of her reign, 1566, when he ob- tained a licence to pardon and dispense with tanning of leather contrary to the statute of the 5th Eliz., and to license any man to be a tanner.* In 1571, he wrote the following letter to Mr. Smith, from which it is evident that he was in some way con- nected with Lord Leicester ; and, as will be stated hereafter, there is little doubt that he possessed very considerable influence over the mind of that nobleman. " To my very Friend Mr. John Smith, Esquire, at his Lodgings by Bridewell. " Sir, " My L. of Leicester hath, since her Majesty's coming ■hither, moved her concerning you. His L. hath let her know what account hath been made of you abroad, and your worthi- ness (in liis opinion) thereof. He willed her highness to consider thereof, and how that your friends might find just cause to persuade you (that if her Majesty did not entertain, encourage, and grace you accordingly) to repair whither your reputation liath been most advanced, again : which, if her Majesty should " Lodge's Illustrations of British History. SIR EDWARD DYER.- Ixix suffer it, would not only be a cooling to men's desires to learn to serve their prince and country, but her Majesty should lack him perhaps in need, and be thought abroad in the world care- less of men given to virtue. " Her Majesty hath made very gracious and wise answer, pre- tending a full disposition to do you good, and taking nothing away from the good opinion my L. set forth, but rather allowed my L. his motion. " So that my L. his advice is, that you repair to the Court, and bad me write so unto yeu, with this, that he lacketli no- thing but some particular matter wherein he might deal for your good with her ^Majesty, which, if you will but seek out, you shall not need to sue. Thus I have done his good L. command- ments, and, as your assured friend, do wish you to join with him herein ; and when you come to the Court, I will bestow an advertisement on you for you to deal in if you like thereof. " From the Court, the 2nd of August, 1571. " Your friend, " Edw. Dyer." * In the ensuing year, his friend Sir Christopher Hatton, the Vice-Chamberlain, incurred the Queen's displeasure; and of the deep interest taken in the sub- ject by Dyer, the subjoined letter of advice exhibits undoubted proof. It is not, however, from that cir- cumstance that this valuable letter derives its claim to attention, but from the extraordinary allusions it con- tains to Queen Elizabeth. to sir christopher hatton. Sir, " After my departure from you, thinking upon your case as my dear friend, I thought good to lay before you mine opi- • Lansdowne IMSS. I'A, f. 40. Oritjinal. IXX BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. iiiou ill writing somewliat more at large than at my last con- ference I did speak. And I do it of good wiU, for you need no counsel of mine, I know right well. But one that standeth by shall see more in the game than one that is much more skilful, whose mind is too earnestly oceuj)it'd. I will not recite the argu- ment, or put the case as it «'ere, for it needeth not, but go to the reasons, such as tliey be. " First of all, you must consider with whom you have to deal, and what we be towards her ; who, though she do descend very much in her sex as a ^voman, yet we may not forget her place, and the nature of it, as our Sovereign. Now if a man, of secret cause known to himself, might in common reason challenge it, yet, if the Queen misUke thereof, the world followeth the sway of her inclination. And never fall they in consideration of reason, as between private persons they do. And if it be after that rate for the most part in causes that may be justified, then much more will it lie so in causes not to be avouched : a thing to be had in regard ; lor it is not good for any man straightly to weigh a general disallowance of her doings. " That the Queen will mislike of such a course, this is my reason. She will imagine that you go about to imprison her fancy, and to wrap her grace within your disposition; and that will breed despite and hatred in her towards you. And so you may be cast forth to the malice of every envious person, flatterer, and enemy of yours, out of which you shall never recover your- self clearly, neither your friends, so long as they shew them- selves your friends. "But if you will make a proof par ver vramo as the Spanish phrase is, to see how the Queen anil he will yield to it, and it prosper, go through withal ; if not, to change your course suddenly into another more agreeable to her 3Iajesty, I can like indifferently of that. But then you must observe this, that it be upon a by-occasion, for else it were not convenient, for divers reasons that you cannot but think upon. " But the best and soundest way in mine oinnion is, to put on SIR KDWARD DYEtt. Ixxi another mind ; to use your suits toward her Majesty in words, behaviour, and deeds ; to acknowledge your duty, declaring the reverence which in heart you bear, and never seem deeply to condemn her frailties, but rather joyl'ully to commend such things as should be in her, as though they were m her indeed ; hating my Lord of Ctm* in the Queen's understanding for aflection's sake, and blaming him openly for seeking the Queen's favour. For though in the beginning when her Majesty sought you (after her good manner) she did bear with rugged dealing of yours, until she had what she fancied, yet now after satiety and fulness, it will rather hurt than help you. Whereas, behaving yourself as I have said before, your place shall keep you in worship, your presence in favour, your followers will stand to you; at the least you shall have no bold enemies, and you shall dwell in the ways to take all advantages wisely and honestly to serve your turn at times. IMarry, thus much I would advise you to remem- ber, that you use no words of disgrace or reproach towards him to any, that he, being the less provoked, may sleep, thinking all safe, while you do awake and attend your advantages. " Otherwise you shall, as it were, warden him and keep him in order, and he will make the Queen think that lie beareth all for her sake, which will be as a merit in her sight, and the pursuing of his revenge sluiU be just in all men's opinions, by what means soever he and his friends shall ever be able. " You may perchance be advised and encouraged to the other way, by some kind of friends that will be glad to see whether the Queen will make an apple or a cral) of you, which as they find, will deal acconliugly witii you; following, if fortune be good, if not, leave and go to your enemy, for sucli kind of friends have no conunodity by hanging in suspense, but set you a lire to do off or on, all is one to them, rather liking to have you in any extremity, than in any good mean. " But beware not too late of siu-h friends, and of such as make * Apparently Lord Leicester. Ixxii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICFS. themselves glewe between them and you, whether it be of igno- rance or practise. Well not to trouble you any longer. It is very necessary for you to impart the eifect of this with your best and most accounted friends, and most worthy to he so; for then you shall have their assistance every way, who being made pri^^ of your counsel, will and r)ught in honour to be partners of your fortune, which God grant to he of the best. The l)th of Octolier, 1572. " \ouT assured poor friend to command, " Edw. Dyer." * The moral cliarixcter of lier Majesty is a question upon which historians and biographers have been long at issue ; but no document has ever fallen under the Editor's observation which affords so much data for forming a conclusive opinion. Of the authenticity of the transcript from which it is taken there are no just grounds of suspicion ; and the internal evi- dence, when compared with Dyer's other letters^ parti- cularly with that to Lord Leicester, in a subsequent page, is strongly in its favour ; for it is certain that, whether qualified for the task or not. Dyer was in the habit of freely offering his advice. The first idea which occurred on perusing the letter to Hatton was, how far he would have risked committing such senti- ments to paper, much less have recommended him to impart the effect of his letter to his "best and most accounted friends." But this doubt is removed by the consideration that if Dyer was so well acquainted with * Harl. MSS. 7JJ7, f- 88, being a Collection of Transcripts of many Letters and Papei"s, said to have been found in the study of ]\Ir. Dell, Secretary to Archbishop Laud — Catalogue of Har- leian Manuscripts. SIU KDWARD DYER. Ixxiii the existence of an intrlgne between Hatton and the Queen, those whom he describes as the confidential friends of the Vice-Chamberlain were, in all probabi- lity, equally well informed. Setting aside speculations as to what it would have been prudent for Dyer to have written, we find among a collection of documents of the period, this letter; and, if it be admitted as a genuine transcript of the original, it only remains to inquire whether the pas- sages under consideration can bear any other inter- pretation than those now put on them ; a point U])on which the readers of this article must judge for them- selves. The letter, it is clear, was written to dissuade Hatton from the conduct he had marked out for him- self towards the Queen, in consequence of the removal of her usual favour ; but as, his friend justly ob- serves, " those who stand by see more in the game than those whose mind is too earnestly occupied," he offers him his best counsel on the occasion. The expressions that though she do descend very much m her sex as a wo))ian, ijct thai lie must not forget that she was still his sovereign ; that //' a man, of' secret cause known to himself, might in common reason challenge it, his case mas one not to be avouched; tliat the Queen ivoidd imagine he meant to i)npriso)i her fancy if he remonstrated, or showed his jealousy of his rival, the nobleman to whom Dyer so cautiously alludes, and who must have been Lord Leicester; that he should not seem deeply to condemn her frailties; and, more than all, the remark, that, though in the beginning, Ixxiv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. when her Majesty sought him (after her good muti- ner) she did hear with rugged dealing of his until she had what she fancied, yet now, after satiety and fulness, it would rather hurl than help him, — seem to admit of no other construction than one of damning import to the fame of the " Virgin Queen." * Nor^ it will be seen, are these extracts at all contradicted or softened by the context. The aiithenticity of the preceding letter is further corroborated by the following extract from a letter * An accomplished literary friend, to whom this letter was shewn, has oMigingly reminded the writer of these pages of the charges hronght against l^lizabeth in the scurrilous pamphlet, signed by Cardinal Allen, entitled An Admonition to ttie People of England, a full account of which will he found in a note to Dr. Lingard's admirable History, 4to. vol. v. p. (!60 ; 8vo. vol. viii. p. 535. Without, by any means, crediting all the Cardinal's ac- cusations, still it must be confessed that Dyer's letter gives some strength to many parts of them, particularly to SirEdward's allu- sion to Leicester. Speaking of his Lordship, he says, " In which sort, besides others whom we need not note, she hath exalted one special extortioner, whom she took up first of a traitor, and worse than nought, only to serve her filthy lust; whereof to have the more freedom and interest, he (as may be presumed, by her consent) caused his own wife cruelly to be murdered." " With the aforesaid person, and with divers others, she hath abused her body against God's laws, to the disgrace of princely majesty, and tlie whole nation's reproach, by unspeakable and incredible variety of lust, which modesty suffereth not to be remembered ; neither'were it to chaste ears to be uttered how shamefully she hatli defiled and infamed her person and countrj^, and made her court as a trap, by this damnable and detestable art, to intangle in sin and overthrow the younger sort of the nobility and gentlemen of the land, whereby she is become noto- rious to the world, and in other countries a common fable for this her turpitude. She does not marry, because she cannot confine herself to one man." — And so far does the Admonition carry the accusations on this subject, that an allu- sion is made to " her unlawful, long-concealed or fained issue." SIR EDWARD DYER. IxXV from Gilbert Talbot to liis father, the Earl of Shrews- bury, dated in 1573, a few months only after Dyer's was written; and as it also shows the humiliating means by which Elizabeth's favourites sought the reco- very of her favour when in disgrace, as well as Dyer's compliance with the custom, and some memorable par- ticulars about him, it is worthy of notice. " Hattoii is sick still : it is tliouglit he will very hardly re- cover his disease, for it is doubted it is in his kidneys. The Queen goeth almost every day to see how he doth. Now, in these devices (chiefly by Leicester, as I suppose, and not without Btirghley's knowledge) how to make Mr. Edward Dyer as great as ever was Hatton, for now in this time of Hatton's sick- ness the time is convenient. It is brought thus to pass. Dyer lately was sick of a consumption, in great danger ; and, as your Lordship knoweth, he hath been in displeasure these eleven years. It was made the Queen beUeve that his sickness came be- cause of the continuance of her displeasure toward him, so that, unless she would forgive him, he was like not to recover; and hereupon her IMajesty hath forgiven him, and sent unto him a very comfortable message. Now he is recovered again ; and this is tlie beginning of this device." * There can be little doubt that Elizabeth was ge- nerally attached to some personal favourite. As she changed the objects of her regard, Burleigh and Lei- cester endeavoured to attract her affections towards one of their own dependents ; and, if the construction put upon the preceding letter be Avell founded, it would be difficult to find any other motive for her • Lodge's Illustrations of British Historij, vol. ii. p. lOL Ixxvi lilOGRAPHlCAL NOTICES. favor than a sexual one. Hattou we know to have been extremely handsome, and to have excelled in many accomplishments ; l)ut neither he nor Dyer had ever performed any public service worthy of the ap- plause or countenance of their Sovereign. If Eliza- beth's virtue, with respect to Hatton, be rendered ex- tremely doubtful by tl'.e contents of Dyer's letter to him, it may be inferred, that the attempt of Leicester and Burleigh to make Dyer " as great as ever" the Chamberlain had been, was to have been accomplished in a similar manner. It is not lightly, nor upon slight grounds, that the character of any woman slioald be suspected, much less when that woman was one of the m.ost powerful mo- narchs that ever swayed the English sceptre. Not- withstanding all the insinuations of historians, and the unauthenticated stories bO commonly promulgated against Elizabeth, the Writer's opinion was decidedly against the justice of the accusations; but the letter under consideration has produced a conviction of an immediately opposite nature ; and with whatever re- luctance the opinion of her immorality has been formed, it is now, however, but too firmly established. This important conclusion, if just, affords a key to many parts of Elizabeth's conduct, which have hitherto been irreconcileable with the magnanimity which she some- times displayed. To what extent Burleigh and Leicester's plan suc- ceeded we are not informed ; but it was most likely frustrated by Hatton's recovery. His sickness in- deed, might have been only feigned; though, from the manner in which Talbot speaks of it, and the attempt SIR EDWARD DYER. IxXvii founded upon the danger in which he was supposed to have been, rather tend to show tliat it was real. Nei- ther the Queen's " comfortable message/' nor tlie pa- tronage of such powerful friends, produced any sub- stantial benefit to Dyer for nearly twelve years. But early in 1584 it appears that he was sent on a diplo- matic mission to the Low Countries ; for on the 28th of February in that year, ]Mr. Faunt, in a letter to IMr. Bacon, observes : " This day Mr. Dyer is returned out of the Low Countries, where he was lately employed by her IVIajesty to the Prince and States : what is there effected you shall there know by my Lord Ambassador."* Soon after his return it seems, from the subjoined letter, that he suspected that the favour of his patron. Lord Burleigh, had declined ; and he was therefore in- duced to A\'Tite to his Lordship on the subject. To the Right Honorable the Lord Burghley, Lord High Treasurer of England, &c. : my especial good Lord. Right Honorable siv very good Lord, We that live in Court do much observe covintenance in per- sonages of the highest honor; and as they shew it favorable or strange towards us, so we reckon more or less upon our reputa- tion. Your Lordship's countenance hath sometimes been such as I have taken great comfort of it ; but now of late I have found it altered, though I cannot imagine any cause why it should so be ; wherefore I have occasion to suppose, and I am greatly afeared that the author of evil hath used his instruments of this time to trouble my good fortune, for your Lordship doth not (as the common humorish sort) put off and on your mind * Birch's Memoirs of Queen Elizabeth^ vol. i. p. 44; but, as will be more fully stated, there are good grouiuls for believing that he was ordained nearly eight years before. His chief, if not only occupation was, however, com- posing plays and amatory pamphlets ; and he appears to have fallen into the lowest courses of vice and de- bauchery ; conduct which, as it has been well re- marked, was totally inconsistent with the duties of his sacred office. An author by profession, and the asso- • The following notice of Greene has been chiefly taken from the biograpliical memoir prefixed to the reprint hy Sir Egertou Brydges of Greene''s GroaCs-tmrth of Wit. CXIV BIor.llAPHICAL NOTICES. date of some of the most dissipated of his contempo- raries, his pecuniary resources and his morals seem to have been equally wretched : and this period of Greene's career was, it seems, afterwards the subject of his heartfelt and poignant regret. About 1586 he is sup- posed by Mr. Park to have married an amiable woman, whom he deserted. With the exception of an account of Greene's publi- cations, and his quarrel with Gabriel Harvey, the pre- ceding notice embraces all which was known of him by his accomplished editor ; but from the following ex- tract from Kilmer's Fcedera, referred to in Lansdowne MSS. 982, i 187, as an addition to Anthony Wood's account of Robert Greene, who died in 1592, it would appear that he was in 1576 one of the Queen's chap- lains, and that her IMajesty presented him to the rec- tory of Walkington, in the diocese of York. " Anno 157C- Regina, dilectis Nobis in Christo, Decano et Capitulo Ecclesiae nostras Cathedralis et Metropoliticae Ebora- censis, aut Vicario suo in Spiritualibus Generali et Officiali Prin- cipal! aut alii cuicumque in hac parte potestatem habenti, Sa- int em. " Ad Rectoriam sive Ecclesiam Parochialem de Walkington Eboracen. Diroces. per mortem Johannis Newcome ultimi Incum- bentis ibidem, jam vacantem et ad nostram Donationem et Prse- sentationem pleno jure spectantem, Dilectum Nobis in Christo, Robertum Grene, unum Capellanorum nostrorum Capellae nos- tras Regiae, vobis tenore Praesentium praesentamus, Mandantes et Reqnirentes quatenus eundem Robertum Grene ad Rectoriam sive Ecclesiam Parochialem de Walkington prajdictam admittere, ipsumque Rectorem ejusdem ac in et de eadem cum suis Juribus et Pertinentiis universis instituere et investire, caeteraque om- UOBERT GREENE. CXV nia et singula peragere facere et perimplere, quae vestro in hac parte incumbunt Officio Pastorali, velitis cum favore. In cujus rei, &c. " Teste Regina apud Gorhambury tricesimo primo die Au- giisti. " Per breve de Private Siyillo.'''' * In the Lee Priory edition of the Rhapsody, Greene is said to have been born in 1550, but in other works, + in 15(50. If the preceding document relates to the poet, he must, in 1560, have been at least nine or ten years of age, which agrees with the statement that his birth took place in 1550. He died in September 1592, of a surfeit, occasioned by eating pickled herrings, and drinking Rhenish wine with them. His real character is perhaps better displayed by the following letter to his wife, than by any evidence afforded by his writings, or by the de- scription whicli has been given of it. Remorse is generally the attendant of a heart naturally good, though perverted by seduction or accident ; for, as the immortal Johnson has so justly observed, " where there is shame, there may in time be virtue." It is thus gratifying as well as useful to peruse the effusions of repentance ; to contemplate the mind, led away by the erratic wanderings of genius, and the proud belief that s])lendid talents justitiod, or at least exte- nuated those excesses, which in others would infallibly • Ri/mcr\'! Foedera, tome xv. p. 76'>- f Bliss' ^^'ood's Athen. Oxon Groat" s-tcorth of IVit, be- fore cited. i 2 CXVl BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. excite contempt, at last, sensible of the folly of its opinions ; and prostrate, either from sickness or grief, relieving an overburdened conscience by making every possible atonement. The letter of Greene to his ami- able but ill-used wife, may therefore justly be deemed the most valuable of his Avritings, both to himself as redeeming in a great degree his former errors, and to others as a warning and an example. " The reijiembrance of many wrongs offered thee, and thy uiireproved virtues, adds greater sorrow to my miserable state than 1 can utter, or thou conceive. Neither is it lessened by considerations of thy absence (though shame M'ould let me hardly behold thy face) but exceedingly aggravated ; for that I cannot (as I ought) to thy own self reconcile myself, that thou mightest witness my inward woe at this instant, that have made thee a ^v•oeful wife for so long a time. But equal Heaven hath denied that comfort, giving, at my last need, like succour as I have sought all my life : being in this extremity as void of help as thou hast been of hope. Reason would, that after so long waste, I should not send thee a child to bring thee greater charge : but consider he is the fruit of thy womb, in whose face regard not the father's so much, as thy own perfections. He is yet green, and may grow straight if he be carefully tended : otherwise apt enough (I fear me) to follow his father's folly. That I have offended thee highly I know ; that thou canst forget my in- juries I hardly believe ; yet, jjcrsuade I myself, if thou saw my wretched estate, thou couldest not but lament it : nay, certainly I know thou wouldest. All my wrongs muster themselves about me. Every evil at once plagues me. For my contempt of God, I am contemned of men ; for my swearing and forswearing no man will believe me ; for my gluttony I suffer hunger ; for my drunkenness, thirst ; for my adultery ulcerous sores. Thus God hath cast me down, that I might be humbled and punished for ROBERT GREENE. CXvil example of other sinners. And although he suffers me in this world to perish without succour, yet trust I in the world to come to find mercy by the merits of my Saviour, to whom I commend thee, and commit my soul. " Thy repentant husband for his disloyalty, " RoBEHT Greene." Greene died, as may be expected from what has been already stated, extremely poorj and his reviler Harvey informs us that he did not leave enough to bury him. What became of his son is not known, nor are we acquainted with the name of his wife. His productions are extremely numerous, and are decidedly marked by wit and genius ; but his only contribution to the Rhapsody was the translation of Anacreon's third Ode in p. 247- SIR HENRY WOTTON. Though but the contributor of a solitary article to the Rhapsody^ An Elegy of a Woman's Heart* the in- tention of noticing each of the writers whose produc- tions are contained in it, renders it necessary that a few words should be said of him. Sir Henry Wotton Avas a younger brother of Ed- ward Lord Wotton, of Maberly, in Kent, and was born at Bocton Hall in that county, in 1568. At a proper age he was sent to Winchester, whence he re- moved to Oxford, and afterwards spent several years on the Continent. t On his return, his accomplish- ments procured him the notice of the Earl of Essex; but on that nobleman's execution he went to Florence, and was honoured with the confidenee of the Grand Duke of Tuscany ; who, having intercepted some let- ters developing a plot for the assassination of James VI. of Scotland, sent Wotton to acquaint him with it. Soon after that monarch's accession he received the * P. 275. -|- It is not unlikely that the " Mr. Wo." mentioned by Mr. Smyth in his letter to Secretary Davison, p. viii. was the indivi- dual noticed in the text. SIR HENRY WOTTON. CXIX honour of knighthood, and was frequently employed in diplomatic missions. About the year 1623 Sir Henry was made Provost of Winchester College, which situ- ation he held until his death, in 1639, aged seventy- one. As a statesman and a writer Sir Henry Wotton was equally distinguished ; nor was he less esteemed for the amiable qualities of his heart : but from his cha- racter having been drawn by a biographer whose works, much more from the caprice of public taste than from their own value^ are in every person's hands, Wotton has obtained a celebrity which his own merits would never have procured. JOHN DONNE. In the brief notice of Sir John Davies it was ob- served, that the Hymn in Praise of Music, and the Ten Sonnets to Philomel, signed I. D. in pages 261 to 272 of the Rhapsody, were, for the reasons there as- signed, supposed to have been the production of John Donne, Dean of St. Paul's, rather than of Davies. As, however, it is far from certain to whom they should be attributed, all which will be here said of Donne is, that he was born in 1573 ; and though ori- ginally destined for the law. King James, to whose notice he was introduced, thought him better qualified for the Church; in consequence of which he took orders, and Avas appointed one of his Majesty's chap- lains. In 1621 he became Dean of St. Paul's, in -which situation he died in 1631. Dr. Donne Avas no less eminent as a divine than as a poet ; and his Satires, to which Francis Davison alludes,* were republished by Pope. It must be ob- served, that the translation of the 137th Psalm, print- ed in a subsequent page, from the belief that it was written by Francis Davison, is, with a few verbal alterations, included among the poems of Donne. * Page xlv. THOMAS CAMPION. This ^vriter flourished as a poet and physician during part of the reigns of Elizabeth and James the First. He was educated at Cambridge^, but no parti- culars of his life or family can be found. From the " Admittances to Gray's Inn/'* in which a Thojias Campion is stated to have been admitted a member of that Society in 1586, and who is in a great measure identified as the poet, from his having composed a song for the Gray's Inn Masque, it would appear that he was originally intended for the profession of the law. By his contemporaries he is styled " Sweet INIas- ter Campion ;" and he was famous as well for his musical as for his poetical talents. Campion is presumed to have made his wUl in Oc- tober 1621, and which was proved in January I623.t His pieces in the Rhapsody are, A Hijmn in Praise of Neptune, sung in the Gray's Inn Masque in 1594; Of his Mistress's Face; Upon her Paleness j and On Corinna sitiging.X « • Hail. MSS. 1912. ■f Ancient Critical Essays, edited by Mr. Ilaslewood, vol. ii. p. vi. note, in which an account of Campion's puldications will he found, compiled with that editor's usual researdi and accuracy. * P. 271 to 274. CHARLES BEST. A WRITER whose name is only known as a contri- butor to the Rhapsody, and whose merits Sir Egerton Brydges has described as being very slender. His productions will be found in p. 183, 184, and from p. 304 to p. 318. The articles in the pages last cited were, for the reasons stated in a note to p. 308, certainly written between the years 1G03 and 1608, and in many parts they seem to deserve for their author higher praise than has hitherto been bestowed upon him. THOMAS SPILMAN. Like Charles Best, Spilman is only known by the few poems with his signature in the Rhapsody. The Editor is inclined to believe that his name was pro- perly Spelman, and that he Avas the Thomas Spel- man who, as is shown by the genealogical table intro- duced in a former page, was the first cousin of Francis Davison. THOMAS Sl'ILMAN. CXXUl His poems consist of A Translation of Anacreon's Second Ode, p. 240, 247 ; Upon his Lady's Sickness of the Small Pox, p. 280; unci perhaps also of the Madrigal in p. 278,. as well as of the address To his Lady's Garden, p. 279. At the end of Harleian j\ISS. 1893, are two curious letters by a Thomas Spelman, without date/ addressed "to the noble Knight, Sir Francis Bacon," but the uncertainty whether he was the individual here no- ticed has prevented their insertion at length. It ap- pears that the writer was then under legal restraint, and he implores Bacon to employ " the predominance" he has with Sir Henry IMontagu, who was then Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, to allow him a hearing at the bar, when, he observes, " If by the strictest inquisition that may be, they discover a piece or sample of vice in me, let him turn the point of jus- tice on me with his utmost force." — IMany expressions in these letters are very extraordinary. After informing Bacon that he was mistaken in supposing that " the clamour and thunder which filled his ears yesternight came from him, and that if he gave him an interview, he had no doubt he could remove his prejudice against him," he remarks, " Concerning my life, it is a snufF which will go out, if it be not put out ; only I would • They must, however, have been written towards the end of the year IGH!, or very early in 1617, as Sir Henry Montagu was not promoted to the Bench until the IGth November, 161•■ THE LOTS. >t Fortune must now no more on triumph ride ; iV^ X' The Wheels are yours that did her chariot guide. II. A PURSE. ' - You thrive, or would, or may ; your lot 's a Purse, Fill it with gold, and you are ne'er the worse. III. A MASK. Want you a jMask ? here Fortune gives you one, Yet Nature gives the rose, and lily none. IV. A LOOKING GLASS. Blind Fortune doth not see how fair you be. But gives a Glass, that you yourself may see. V. A HANDKERCHIEF. Whether you seem to weep, or weep indeed, This Handkerchief will stand you well in stead. 8 POETICAL RHAPSODY. VI. A PLAIN RING. Fortune doth send you, hap it well or ill. This plain gold Ring, to wed you to your will. VII. A RING, WITH THIS POESY. ' 'B& faitijful a^ ^ fintJ.' Your hand by Fortune on this Ring doth light. And yet the words do hit your humour right. A'lII. A PAIR OF GLOVES. Fortune these Gloves to you in challenge sends, For that you love not fools, that are her friends. IX. A DOZEN OF POINTS. You are in ev'ry point a lover true. And therefore Fortune gives the Points to you. X. A LACE. Give her the Lace, that loves to be straight lac'd. So Fortune's little gift is aptly plac'd. XI. A PAIR OP KNIVES. , Fortune doth give this pair of Knives to you^ To cut the thread of love, if 't be not true. XII. A GIRDLE. By Fortune's Girdle you may happy be. But they that are less happy, are more free. A LOTTERY. 9 Xm. A PAIR OF AVRITING TABLES. These Tables may contain yonr thoughts in part, But \mte not all that 's written in your heart. XIV. A PAIR OF GARTERS. Though you have Fortune's Garters, you must be More staid and constant in your steps than she. XV. A COIF AND CROSS-CLOTH. Frown in good earnest, or be sick in jest. This Coif and Cross-cloth will become you best. XVI. A SCARF. Take you this Scarf, bind Citpid hand and foot; So Love must ask you leave, before he shoot. XVII. A FALLING BAND. Fortune Avould have you rise, yet guides your hand From other lots to take the Falling Band. XVIII. A STOMACHER. This Stomacher is full of windows wrought. Yet none through them can see into your thought. XIX. A PAIR OF SCISSARS. These Scissars do your housewifery bewray. You love to work, though you were born to play. XX. A CHAIN. Because you scorn Love's captive to remain. Fortune hath sworn to lead you in a Chain. 10 POETICAL RHAPSODY. XXI. A PRAYER-BOOK. Your fortune may prove good another day ; Till Fortune come, take you a Book to pray. XXII. A SNUKTKIN. " 'Tis summer yet, a Snuftkin is your lot ! But 'tvi^ill be winter one day, doubt you not. XXIII. A FAN. You love to see, and yet to be unseen ; Take you this Fan to be your beauty's screen. XXIV. A PAIR OF BRACELETS. Lady ! your hands are fallen into a snare. For Cupid's manacles these Bracelets are. XXV. A BODKIN. Even with this Bodkin you may live unharmed. Your beauty is with Virtue so well armed. XXVI. A NECKLACE. Fortune gives your fair neck this Lace to wear ; God grant a heavier yoke it never bear ! XXVII. A CUSHINET. To her that little cares what lot she wins. Chance gives a little Cushinet to stick pins. e Explained in Archdeacon Nares's Glossary/ to be a muff, in which work this example of the use of the word is cited. A LOTTERY. 11 XXVIII. A DIAL. The Dial's yours; watch time, lest it be lost ; Yet they most lose it, that do watch it most. XXIX. A NUTMEG, WITH A BLANK PARCHMENT IN IT. This Nutmeg holds a blank, but chance doth hide it ; Write your own wish, and Fortune will provide it. XXX. A BLANK. Wot you not why Fortune gives you no prize .'' Good faith ! she saw you not, — she wants her eyes. XXXI. A BLANK. You are so dainty to be pleas'd, God wot. Chance knows not what to give you for a lot. XXXII. A BLANK. 'Tis pity such a hand should draw in vain ; Though it gain nought, yet shall it pity gain. XXXIII. A BLANK. Nothing's your lot, that's more than can be told. For nothing is more precious than gold. XXXIV. A BLANK. You fain would have, but what, you cannot tell. In giving nothing. Fortune serves you well. I. D. 12 1*02TICAL RHAPSODY. y- A CONTENTION BETWIXT A WIFE^ A WIDOW, AND A MAID. WIFE. WiDOvVj well met ; whither go you to-day ? Will you not to this solemn offering go ? You know it is Astrea's holy day. The saint to whom all hearts devotion owe. WIDOW. Marry, what else ? I purposed so to do: Do you not murk how all the wives are fine. And how they have sent presents ready too. To make their offei ing at Astrea's shrine .'' See, then, the shrine and tapers burning bright ! Come, friend, and let us first ourselves advance; We know our place, and if we have our right. To all the parish we must lead the dance. A CONTENTION. 13 But soft ! what means this bold presumptuous Maid, To go before, without respect of us ? Your forwardness, proud maid ! nuist now be staid : Where learn'd you to neglect your betters thus? MAID. Elder you are, but not my betters here : This place to maids a privilege must give ; The Goddess, being a maid, holds maidens dear. And grants to them her own prerogative. Besides, on all true virgins, at their birth. Nature hath set a crown of excellence, That all tlie wives and widows of the earth Should give them place, and do them reverence. WIFE. If to be born a maid be such a grace. So was I born, and grac'd by Nature too ; But seeking more perfection to embrace, I did become a wife as others do. WIDOW. And if the maid and wife such honour have, I have been both, and hold a third degree ; IMost maids are wards, and every wife a slave ; I have my livery sued, and I am free. 14) POETICAL RHAPSODY. MAID. That is the fault, that you have maidens been, And ^vere not constant to continue so ; The fall of Angels did increase their sin. In that they did so pure a state forego. But, Wife and Widow, if your wits can make Your state and persons of more worth than mine. Advantage to this place I will not take ; I will both place and privilege resign. WIFE. Why marriage is an honourable state ! , WIDOW. And widowhood is a reverend degree ! MAID. But maidenhead, that will admit no mate. Like majesty itself must sacred be. WIFE. The wife is mistress of her family: WIDOW. Much more the widow, for she rules alone : MAID. But mistress of mine own desires am I, When you rule others' wills, and not your own. WIFE. Only the wife enjoys the virtuous pleasure : WIDOW. The widow can alistain from pleasures known ; MAID. But th'uncorrupted maid observes such measure. As being by pleasures woo'd she cares for none. WIPE. The wife is like a fair supported vine; WIDOW. So was the widow, but now stands alone ; For being grown strong, she needs nottoincline. MAID. Maids, like the earth, supported are of none. A CONTENTION. 15 WIFE. The wife is as a diamond richly set ; MAID. The maid unset doth yet more rich appear ; WIDOW. The widow a jewel in the cabinet. Which though not worn;, is still esteem'd as dear. WIFE. The wife doth love, and is belov'd again ; WIDOW. The widow is awak'd out of that dream ; MAUi. The maid's white mind had never such a stain; No passion troubles her clear virtues' stream. Yet if I would be luv'd, lov'd would I be, Like her whose virtue in the bay is seen : Love to wife fades with satiety. Where love never enjoy'd is ever green. WIDOW. Then what's a virgin but a fruitless bay? MAID. And what's a widow but a roseless brier ? And what are wives, but woodbines which decay The stately oaks by which themselves aspire .'' And what is marriage but a tedious yoke ? WIDOW. And what virginity but sweet self-love .'' WIFE. And what's a widow but an axle broke. Whose one part failing, neither part can move ? WIDOW. Wives are as birds in golden cages kept ; - WIFE. Yet in those cages clieerfully they sing : WIDOW. Widows are birds out of those cages leapt, Whose joyful notes niiikes all the forest ring. 16 POETICAL miAl'bOD/. MAID, But maids are birds amidst the Avoods secure, Wliicli never hand could touch, nor net could take ; Nor whistle could deceive, nor bait allure. But free unto themselves do music make. WIFE. The wife is as the turtle with her mate ; AviDOW. The widoAv as the widow dove alone. Whose truth shines most in her forsaken state ; MAID. The maid a Phoenix, and is still but one. WIFE. The wife's a soul unto her body tied; wfDOW. The widow a soul departed into bliss ; MAID. The maid an Angel which was stellified. And now t'as fair a house descended is. WIFE. Wives are fair houses kept and furnish'd well ; WIDOW. Widows old castles void, but full of state : MAID. But maids are temples, where the Gods do dwell. To whom alone themselves they dedicate. But marriage is a prison during life. Where one way out, but many entries be : WIFE. The Nun is kept in cloister, not the wife. Wedlock alone doth make the virgin free. A OONTENTTON. 17 MAin. The maid is ever fresh, like morn in May; WIFE. The wife with all her beams is beautified. Like to high noon, the glory of the day ; WIDOW. The widow, like a mild sweet eventide. WIFE. An office well supplied is like the wife; \ WIDOW. The widow, like a gainful office void ; 3IAID. But m.aids are like contentment in this life. Which all the world have sought, but none enjoy 'd. Go, wife, to Dunmow, and demand your flitch. WIDOW. Go, gentle maid, go, lead the apes in hell. WIFE. Go, widow, make some younger brother rich. And then take thought and die, and all is well. Alas, poor maid ! that hast no help nor stay- WIDOW. Alas, poor wife ! that nothing dost possess. MAID. Alas, \iooT widow ! Charity doth say, Pitv the widow and the fatlierle.ss. If WIDOW. But happy widows have the world at will. WIFE. But hapj)ier wives, whose joys are ever double. jMAin. But happiest maids, whose hearts are calm and still ; Whom fear, nor hope, nor love, nor hate doth trouble. 18 POETICAL RHAPSODY. WIFE. Every true wife hath an indented heart. Wherein the covenants of love are writ ; Whereof her husband keeps the counterpart. And reads his comforts and his joys in it. WIDOW. But every widow's heart is like a book. Where her joys past imprinted do remain ; But when her judgment's eye therein doth look. She doth not wish they were to come again. MAID. But the maid's heart a fair white table is. Spotless and pure, where no impressions be. But the immortal characters of bliss. Which only God doth write, and Angels see. WIFE. But wives have children : what a joy is this ! WIDOW. Widows have children too; but maids have none. MAID. No more have Angels; yet they have more bliss Than ever yet to mortal man was known. WIFE. The wife is like a fair manured field ; WIDOW. The widow once was such, but now doth rest; MAID. .The maid, like Paradise, undrest, untill'd. Bears crops of native virtue in her breast. WIFE. Who would not die a wife, as Lucrece died ? WIDOW. Or live a widow, as Penelope .'' MAID. Or be a maid, and so be stellified, As aU the virtues and the graces be. A CONTENTION. 19 WIFE. Wives are warm climates well inhabited; But maids are frozen zones, where none may dwell. MAID. But fairest people in the North are bred; Where Africa breeds monsters black as hell. WIFE. I have my husband's honour and his place : WIDOW. My husband's fortunes all survive to me. MAID. The moon doth borroAv light ; you borrow grace: When maids by their own virtues graced be. White is my colour ; and no hue but tliis It will receive, no tincture can it stain. WIPE. My white hath took one colour ; but it is An honourable purple dyed in grain. WIDOW. But it hath been my fortune to renew ]\Iy colour twice from that it was before ; But now my black will take no other hue. And therefore now I mean to change no more. '»^ WIPE. Wives are fair apples served in golden dishes; WIDOW. Widows good wine, which time makes better much ; MAID. But maids are grapes desired by many wishes, But that they grow so high as none can touch. WIPE. I have a daughter equals you, my girl. )th e c 2 MAID. Tlie daughter doth excel the mother, then. 20 POETICAL IIHAPSODY. WIDOW. MAID. As pearls are better tlian the mother of pearl ; Maids lose their value v/hen they match with men. The man with whom I match'd, his worth was such. As now I scorn a maid should be my peer : But I will scorn the man you praise so much. For maids are matchless, and no mate can bear. Hence is it that the virgin never loves, / Because her like she finds not any where ; For likeness evermore affection moves; Therefore the maid hath neither love nor peer. WIFE. Yet many virgins married wives would be, WIDOW. And many a wife would be a widow fain. MAID. There is no widow but desires to see. If so she might, her maiden days again. WIDOW ^. There never was a wife that liked her lot : WIPE. Nor widow, but was clad in mourning weeds. MAID. Do what you will, marry or marry not. Both this estate and that repentance breeds. =» In the previous editions of the Rhapsody, this line has always been imputed to the wife^ and the following one to the widow; but as throughout the Contention each party praises her own state, whilst she ridicules that of the others, the trans- position in the text appeared to be imperiously called for. A CONTENTION. 21 wiKJE. But she that this estate and that hath seen. Doth find great odds between the wife and girl. MAID. Indeed she doth^ as much as is between The melting hailstone, and the solid pearl. AviFE. If I were widow, my merry days were past. WIDOW. Nay, then you first become sweet pleasure's guest ; For maidenhead is a continual fast. And marriage is a continual feast. MAID. Wedlock indeed hath oft compared been To public feasts, where meet a public rout. Where they that are without would fain go in. And they that are within would fain go out. Or to the jewel which this virtue had. That men were mad till they might it obtain ; But when they had it, they were twice as mad Till they were dispossess'd of it again. WIFE. INIaids cannot judge, because they cannot tell. What comforts and what joys in marriage be. MAID. Yes, yes ; though blessed Saints in Heaven dwell. They do the souls in Purgatory see. 22 POETICAL RHAPSODY, WIDOW. If every wife do live in Purgatory, Then sure it is that widows live in bliss. And are translated to a state of glory ; But maids as yet have not attain'd to this. Si AID. Not maids? To spotless maids this gift is giveii;, To live in incorruption from their birth : And what is that, but to inherit heaven Even while they dwell upon the spotted earth ? Tlie perfectest of all created things ; The purest gold, that suffers no allay ; The sweetest tiower that on th' earth's bosom springs ; The pearl unbored, whose price no price can pay. The chrystal glass, that will no venom hold ; The mirror, wherein Angels love to look : I Diana's bathing fountain, clear and cold; Beauty's fresh rose, and virtue's living book. Of love and fortune both the mistress born ; The sovereign spirit that will be thrall to none : The spotless garment that was never worn ; The princely eagle that still flies alone. A CONTEJJTIO^r. 23 She sees the worlds yet her clear thought doth take No such deep print as to be chang'd thereby; As when we see the burning fire doth make No such impression as doth burn the eye. WIFE. No more, sweet maid ; our strife is at an end. Cease now ; I fear we shall transformed be To chattering pies, as they that did contend To match the Muses in their harmony. WIDOW. Then let us yield the honour and the place. And let us both be suitors to the maid ; That, since the goddess gives her special grace. By her clear hands the offering be convey'd. MAID. Your speech I doubt hath some displeasure moved ; Yet let me have the offering, I will see : I know she hath both wives and widows lov'd. Though she would neither wife nor widow be. Sir John Davis. 24! POETICAL RHAPSODY- THE LIE. Go, soul, the body's guest. Upon a thankless arrant ; * Fear not to touch the best. The truth shall be thy warrant : Go, since I needs must die. And give the world the lie. e The ortliography of this word is retained on account of the rhyme ; but in Ellis's Specimens of the Early Enylish Poets^ as well as in the copy in Sir Egerton Brydges's edi'don of the Rhapsody^ it is altered to " errand ;" which certainly but ill agrees with tlie termination of the fourth line. There is very considerable doubt to whom this beautiful poem should be at- ] tributed. It has been assigTied to Sir Walter Raleigh by Bishop Percy, by whom it is said to have been written the night before his execution : this assertion is, however, proved to be unfounded, from the fact that Raleigh was not executed until 1618, and the poem in question was printed in the second . edition of the Rhapsody in 1608. Nor does there appear to be any satisfttctoiy reason for believing it to have been written by Raleigh. In the folio edition of the Works of John Sylvester it is inserted among that writer's poems, entitled " The Soul's Errand ;" and Mr. Ellis, in his Specimens^ has introduced it, ap- parently from that volume, and justly remarks, that as it was at- THE LIE. 25 Say to the Court, it glows. And shines like rotten wood ; Say to the Church, it shows What 's good, and doth no good If Church and Court reply. Then give them both the lie. Tell Potentates they live Acting by others' action ; tributed to Sylvester by the Editorof thateclitionof his Works, "he has restored it to its ancient pi-oprietor, until a more authorized claimant shall lie produced." Its beiny; placed among that wri- ter's productions must not, however, be deemed conclusive evi- dence on the subject ; for on the same grounds we should be obliged to consider Lord Peniiiroke as the author, as it is printed among that accomplished nol)leman's poems. Ritson, whose au- thority merits great attention, peremptorily attributes i^^to Fran- cis Davison : " The Answer to the Lye^'' he observes, "usually as- cribe'd to Ralegh, and pretended to have been writen the night before his execution, was in fact by Francis Davison." — Biblioyr. Poelica^ p. 308. In this state of uncertainty the Editor is obliged to leave the question, for he acknowledges his incompetency to throw- any light on the subject ; and the probability is, tliat the real author will never be discovered. Tlie extreme beauty of this poem has caused it to have been fre(iue!itly printed ; and it is singular that there are not two copies precisely alike. At the end of this volume two copies of it are inserted ; the one from Ilarl. MSS. 2296, the otbcr from a manuscript in the same collection, No. G910 ; the readings of which not only differ materially from each other, but in a shght degree also from the printed copies. 26 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Not loved unless they give. Not strong but by aifection : If Potentates reply^, Give Potentates the lie. Tell men of hij^h condition. That manage the estate. Their purpose is ambition. Their practice only hate : And if they once reply. Then give them all the lie. Tell them that brave it most. They beg for more by spending. Who in their greatest cost Like nothing but commending : And if they make reply. Then tell them all they lie. Tell zeal it Avants devotion ; Tell love it is but lust ; Tell time it is but motion ; Tell flesh it is but dust : And vv'ish them not reply. For thou must give the lie. Tell age it daily wasteth ; Tell honour how it alters ; THE LIE. 27 Tell Beauty how she blasteth ; Tell favour how it falters : And as they shall reply. Give every one the lie. Tell wit how much it wrangles In tickle points of niceness ; Tell Wisdom she entangles Herself in over-wiseness : And when they do reply. Straight give them both the lie. Tell Physic of her boldness ; Tell skill it is pretension ; Tell charity of coldness ; Tell law it is contention ; And as they do reply. So give them still the lie. Tell Fortune of her blindness ; Tell nature of decay ; Tell friendship of unkindness ; Tell justice of delay : And if they will reply. Then give them all the lie. Tell Arts they have no soundness. But vary by esteeming ; 28 rOETICAL RHAPSODY. Tell Schools they want profoundness. And stand so much on seeming : If Arts and Schools reply. Give Arts and Schools the lie. Tell faith it 's fled the City; Tell how the country erreth ; Tell manhood shakes of pity ; Tell virtue least preferreth : And if they do reply_, Spare not to give the lie. So when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing ; Pecause to give the lie. Deserves no less than stabbinar : Stab at thee who that will. No stab the soul can kill ! CD TWO PASTORALS, madk by sir philip sidney^ upon his meeting with his two worthy friends and fellow- poets, sir edward dyer and m. fulke greville/ Join mates in mirth to me. Grant pleasure to our meeting; Let Pan, our good god, see How grateful is our greeting. Join hearts and hands, so let it be, Make but one mind in bodies three. Ye Hymns, and singing skill Of God Apollo's giving, Be press'd our reeds to fill With sound of music living. Join hearts and hands, &c. f A slight account of these individuals will be found among the Biographical Notices at the commencement of the volume. c 7 30 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Sweet Orphetis' harp, whose sound The stedfast mountains moved. Let here thy skill abound. To join sweet friends beloved. Join hearts and hands, &c. My two and I be met, A happy blessed trinity. As three most jointly set In firmest band of unity. Join hands, &c. Welcome my two to me, E.D. F.G. P.S.^ The number best beloved. Within my heart you be In friendship unremoved. Join hands, &c. Give leave your flocks to range, Let us the while be playing; Within the elmy grange. Your flocks will not be straying. Join hands, &c. Cause all tjie mirth you can. Since I am now come hither. If Edward Dyer, Fulke Greville, Philip Sydney. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES.^ 31 Who never joy, but when I am with you together. Join hands, &c. Like lovers do their love. So joy I in you seeing: Let nothing me remove From always with you being. Join hands, &c. And as the turtle Dove To mate with whom heliveth, Such comfort fervent love Of you to my heart giveth. Join hands, &c. Now joined be our hands. Let them be ne'er asunder. But link'd in binding bands r By metamorphosed wonder. So should our sever'd bodies three As one for ever joined be. Sir Ph. Sidney. (p S^ COETICAL RHAPSODY. DISPRAISE OF A COURTLY LIFE. Walking in bright Ph(ebus' blaze. Where with heat oppress' d I was, I got to a shady wood, Where green leaves did newly bud ; And of grass was plenty dwelling, Deck'd with pied floAvers sweetly smelling. In this wood a man I met, On lamenting wholly set ; Ruing change of wonted state. Whence he was transformed late. Once to Shepherds' God retaining. Now in servile Court remaining. There he wandering malecontent. Up and down perplexed went. Daring not to tell to me. Spake unto a senseless tree. One among the rest electing. These same words, or this aifecting: " My old mates I grieve to see Void of me in field to be. PASTORALS AXD ECLOGUES. 33 Where we once our lovely sheep Lovingly like friends did keep ; Oft each others friendship proving, Never striving, but in loving. But may love abiding be In poor shepherds' base degree .'' It belongs to such alone To whom art of Love is known : Seely' shepherds are not witting What in art of love is fitting. Nay, what need the art to those To whom we our love disclose ? It is to be used then. When we do but Hatter men : Friendship true, in heart assured, Is by Nature's gifts procured. Therefore shepherds wanting skill. Can Love's duties best fulfil ; Since they know not how to feign. Nor with love to cloak disdain, g In Todd^s Johnson this word is described on the authority of Chaucer and Spenser to mean lucky, happy; and likewise, agree- ably to the usage of the latter writer, silly, inoffensive, harmless. Perhaps the instance in the text, as well as that in the next page, afford the best proof which can be adduced of the word being used svnonimously with silly, ignorant, or simple. D 84 POETICAL IIHAPSODY. Like the wiser sort, whose learning Hides their inward will of harming. Well was Ij while under shade Oaten reeds me music made. Striving witli my mates in song ; Mixing mirth our songs among. Greater was the shepherd's treasure. Than this false, fine, courtly pleasure. Where how many creatures be. So many pufF'd in mind I see; Like to Juno's birds of pride, Scarce each other can abide : Friends like to black swans appearing, Sooner these than those in hearing. Therefore, Pan, if thou mayest be JMade to listen unto me. Grant, I say, if seely man May make treaty to god Pan, That I, without thy denying. May be still to thee relying. Only for my two loves' sake, Sir Ed. D. & M. F. G." In whose love I pleasure take ; '• Sir Edwaid Dyer and M. Ftilke Greville. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 35 Only two do me delight With their ever-pleasing sight ; Of all men to thee retaining. Grant me with those two remaining. So shall I to thee ahvays With my reeds sound mighty praise ; And first lamb that shall befall. Yearly deck thine altar shall, If it please thee to be reflected. And I from thee not rejected." So I left him in that place. Taking pity on his case ; Learning this among the rest. That the mean estate is best ; Better filled with contenting. Void of wishing and repenting. Sir Ph. Sidney. i> 2 S() POETICAL RHAPSODY. A FICTION, HOW CUPID MADE A NYMPH WOUND HERSELF WITH HIS ARKOWS. It chanced of late a shepherd's swain, That went to seek a strayed sheep. Within a thicket on the plain. Espied a dainty Nymph asleep. Her golden hair o'erspread her face. Her careless arms abroad were cast, Her quiver had her pillow's place. Her breast lay bare to every blast. The shepherd stood, and gazed his fill ; Nought durst he do, nought durst he say ; When chance, or else perhaps his will. Did guide the god of Love that way. The crafty boy that sees her sleep. Whom, if she waked, he durst not see. Behind her closely seeks to creep. Before her nap should ended be. PASTORALS AKD ECLOGUES. 37 There come, he steals her shafts away. And puts his own into their place; Nor dares he any longer stay, But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace. Scarce was he gone, when she awakes. And spies the shepherd standing by ; Her bended bow in haste she takes. And at the simple swain let Hy. Forth flew the shaft, and pierced his heart. That to the ground he fell with pain ; Yet up again forthwith did start. And to the nymph he ran amain. Amazed to see so strange a sight. She shot, and shot, but all in vain ; The more his wounds, the more his might ; Love yieldeth strength in midst of pain. Her angry eyes are great with tears. She blames her hands, she blames her skill; The bluntness of her shafts she fears. And try them on herself she will. Take heed, sweet Nymph ! try not thy shaft ; Each little touch will prick thy heart : Alas ! thou knowest not Cupid's craft ; Revenge is joy, the end is smart. 458656 38 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Yet try she will, and prick soon bare ; Her hands were glov'd, and next to hand Was that fair breast, that breast so rare. That made the shepherd senseless stand. That breast she prick'd, ai?d through that breast Love finds an entry to her heart : At feeling of this new-come guest. Lord ! how the gentle nymph doth start ! She runs not now, she shoots no more. Away she throws both shafts and bow : She seeks for that she shunn'd before. She thinks the shepherd's haste too slow. Though mountains meet not, lovers may ; So others do, and so do they : The' god of Love sits on a tree. And laughs that pleasant sight to see.** h Signed " Axomos" in the first Edition; but it is attrilmted by Bishop Percy to Francis Davison. € A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO SHEPHERDS, THENOT AND PIERS, IN PRAISE OF ASTREA. ' THENOT. I SING divine Astrea's praise ; O Muses ! help my wits to raise. And heave my verses higher. PIERS. Thou need'st the truth but plainly tell. Which much I doubt thou canst not well. Thou art so oft a liar. THEN. PIERS. If in my song no more I show. Than Heaven, and earth, and sea do know. Then truly I have spoken. Sufficeth not no more to name. But being no less, the like, the same. Else laws of truth be broken. i " Made by the excellent Lady, the Lady 3Iary Countess of Pembroke, at the Queen ^Majesty's being at her house at , Anno 15*»." Edit. 1602. . 40 POETICAL IIHAPSODY. THEN. Then say, she is so good, so fair. With all the earth she may compare. Nor Momus self denying : PIERS. Compare may think where likeness holds. Nought like to her the earth enfolds : I look to find you lying. THEN. PIERS. AsTREA sees with wisdom's sight; AsTREA works by virtue's might ; And jointly both do stay in her. Nay, take from them her hand, her mind. The one is lame, the other blind : Shall still your lying stain her ? THEN. PIERS. Soon as Astrka shows her face. Straight every ill avoids the place; And every good aboundeth. Nay, long before her face doth show. The last doth come, the first doth go : How loud this lie resoundeth. THEN. PIERS. Astrea is our chiefest joy. Our chiefest guard against annoy. Our chiefest wealth, our treasure. Where chiefest are, there others be. To us none else but only she : When wilt thou speak in measure ? PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 41- THKN. AsTHEA may be justly said, A field in flowery rolie array'd, \ In season freshly springing. ' PIERS. That spring endures but shortest time. This never leaves Astrea's clime : Thou liest, instead of singing. THEN. As heavenly light that guides the day. Right so doth shine each lovely ray That from Astrea flieth. PIERS. Nay, darkness oft that light in clouds, Astrea's beams no darkness shrouds : How loudly Thenot lieth ! THEN. AsTREA rightly term I may A manly palm, a maiden bay. Her verdure never dying. PIERS. Palm oft is crooked, bay is low. She still upright, still high doth grow : Good Thenot leave thy lying. THEN. Then, Piers, of friendship tell me why. My meaning true, my words should lie, And strive in vain to raise her ? PIERS. Words from conceit do only rise ; Above conceit her honour flies: But silence, nought can praise her. Mary, Countess op Pembroke. 42 POETICAL RHAPSODY. © A ROUNDELAY, IN INVERTED RHYMES^ BETWEEN THE TWO FRIENHLY RIVALS, STREPIION AND KLAIUS, IN THE PRE- SENCE OF URANIA, MISTRESS TO THEM BOTH. ^- STREPHON. O WHITHER shall I turn me From thine eyes' sight. Whose sparkling light With quenchless flames, present and ab- sent, burn me ? For I burn when as I view them. And I burn when I eschew them. , _ I- V V KLAiUtS. Since I cannot eschew them. But that their light Is in my sight. Both when I view them not, and when I view them ; Ere their flames will cease to burn me, From myself, myself must turn me. STREPH. When none are present by you, I feel their might ; And your eyes bright A llOUNDELAY. 43 Appear more glorious, others being nigh you : So alone, or else compared, A¥retch, I am by them ensnared. KLAius. Since that I am ensnared By your eyes bright. And feel their might. Whether alone they be, or else compared ; Wheresoever I am nigh you. Love I must, if I be by you. STREPH. When you look kindly on me. They love incite ; And, spite of spite, I love them likewise when you frown upon me : So, howe'er your looks are framed, By your looks I am inflamed. KLAIUS. Since that I am inflamed Even by their spite. And they incite Soul-warming flames when they are mildly framed ; Howsoe'er you look upon me. Love I must, if you look on me. sTRKPjr. Oh ! when shall I them banish. Since against right, Nor day nor night. 44 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Though absent from me^ from me they do vi. nish ? So no respite time doth grant me. But incessantly they haunt me. KLAius. Since they, alas ! do haunt me Both day and night, And wonted right, Obtain'd by absence, absence doth not grant me ; Night and day may sooner vanish. Than from me I can them banish. STREPH. They, when the day doth leave me. Lodge in my sp'rit ; And of their sight. No sight by day discerned can bereave me: So, nor day aught else revealeth. Nor the night the same concealeth. KLAIUS. Since day, like night concealeth Each other siijht. And to mysp'rit Concealing darkness them like day revealeth ; Time of time must quite bereave me. Ere your looks' sweet looks will leave me. Walter Davison. ?s STREPHON'S PALINODE. Strephon, upon some unkindness conceived, having made show to leave Urania and make love to another nymph, was, at the next solemn assembly of shepherds, not only frowned upon by Urania, but commanded with great bitterness out of her presence: whereupon, sorry for his offence, and desirous to regain her grace, whom he never had forsaken but in show, upon his knees he in this song humbly craves pardon ; and Urania, finding his true penitence, and unwilling to lose so worthy a servant, receives him again into greater grace and fa- vour than before. Sweet, I do not pardon crave. Till I have By deserts this fault amended : This, I only this desire. That your ire May with penance be suspended. Not my will, but Fate, did fetch Me, poor wretch, Into this unhappy error ; 46 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Which to plague, no tyrant's mind Pain can find Like my heart's self-guilty terror. Then, O then, let that suffice ! Your dear eyes Need not, need not more afflict me; Nor your sweet tongue, dipp'd in gall, Need at all From your presence interdict me. Unto him that Hell sustains. No new pains Need be sought for his tormenting. Oh ! my pains Hell's pains surpass ; Yet, alas ! You are still new pains inventing. By my love, long, firm, and true, Borne to you; By these tears my grief expressing ; By tliis pipe, which nights and days Sounds your praise ; Pity me, my fault confessing. Or, if I may not desire. That their ire May with penance be suspetided ; STREPHON^S PALINODE. 47 Yet let me fiill pardon crave. When I have. With soon death my fault amended. urania's answer, in inverted rhymes, staff for staff. Since true penance hath suspended Feigned ire, JMore I '11 grant than you desire. Faults confess'd are half amended. And I have In this half, all that I crave. Therefore, banish now the terror Which you find In your guiltless grieved mind ; For, though you liave made an error. From me, wretch. First beginning it did fetch. Ne'er my sight I '11 interdict thee IMore at all ; Ne'er speak words more dipp'd in gall ; Ne'er, ne'er will I more afflict thee With these eyes : What is past, shall now suffice. ^8 POETICAL llHAl'.SODY. Now new jo3^s 1 11 be inventing. Which, alas! May thy passed woes surpass. Too long thou hast felt tormenting ; Too great pains So great love and faith sustains. Let these eyes, by thy confessing Worthy praise. Never see more nights nor days ; Let my woes be past expressing ; When to you I cease to be kind and true. Thus are both our states amended : For you have Fuller pardon than you crave ; And my fear is quite susj^ended. Since mine ire Wrought th' effect I most desire. Francis Davison. ECLOGUE. A SHEPHERD poor, Eubulus call'd he was ; - Poor now, alas ! but erst had jolly been ; One pleasant morn, A\'hen as the Sun did pass The liery horns of raging Bull between. His little flock into a mead did bring, As soon as daylight did begin to spring. Fresh was the mead in April's livery dight, Deck'd with green trees, bedew'd with silver brooks : But, ah ! all other was the shepherd's plight. All other were both sheep and shepherd's looks ; For both did show, by their dull heavy cheer. They took no pleasure of the pleasant year. He weeping went ; ay me that he should weep ! They hung their heads, as they to weep would learn : His heavy heart did send forth sighing deep ; They in their bleating voice did seem to yearn : He lean and pale, their fleece was rough and rent ; They pin'd with pain, and he with dolours spent. His pleasant pipe was broke, alas ! the while, And former merriment was banish'd quite ; 50 POETICAL RHAPSODY. His shepherd's crook, that him upheld ere while, He erst had thrown away with great despite : Tho' leaning 'gainst a shrub that him sustain'd. To th' earth, sun, birds, trees, echo thus he plain'd. " Thou all forth-bringing earth ! though winter chill With blust'ring winds blow off thy mantle green,' And with his snow and hoary frosts, do spill Thy Flora-pleasing flowers, and kill them clean ; Yet when fresh Spring returns again'' To drive away the winter's pain. Thy frost and snow Away do go. Sweet Zephyr's breath cold Boreas doth displace. And fruitless showers Revive thy flowers. And nought but joy is seen in every place. " But, ah ! how long, alas ! how long doth last My endless winter, without hope of spring ! How have my sighs, my blust'ring sighs, defac'd The flowers and buds which erst my earth' did bring ! Alas ! the tops that did aspire Lie trodden now in filthy mire ; Alas ! my head Is all bespread » With boisterous blasts blow off thy mantle green.-edit. 1602. k Yet soon as spring returns again. — ibid, ' youth, edit. 1608; soul, edit. 1621. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES, 51 With too untimely snow : and eke my heart All sense hath lost, Throuo-h harden'd frost Of cold despair, that long hath bred my smart. " What though some rising torrents overflow With nought-regarding streams thy pleasant green, And with their furious force do lay full low Thy drowned flowers, however sweet they been ? Soon fall those floods, as soon they rose,™ For fury soon his force doth lose. And then full eath Apollo's breath. The cold, yet drying North-wind, so doth warm. That by and by Thy meads be dry. And grow more fruitful by their former harm. " O would the tears, that torrent-like do flow Adown my hollow cheeks with restless force. Would once, O tliat they could once, calmer grow! Would like to thine, once cease their ceaseless course. Thine last not long ; mine still endure : Thine cold ; and so thy Avealth procure : Hot mine are still. And so do kill >" Soon fall their flood as they rose. edit. 1602. e2 52 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Both tiower and root, with most unkindly dew : What sun or wind A way can find, The root once dead, the flowers to renew ? " Thou, though the scorching heat of summer's sun. While ill-hreath'd dog the raging lion chaseth. Thy speckled flowers do make of colour dun, And pride of all thy greeny hair defaceth ; And in thy moisture-wanting side. Deep wounds do make, and gashes wide : Yet as thy weat" By Phoebus' heat To turn to wholesome dryness is procured. So Phoebus' heat By South-winds weat Is soon assuaged, and all thy wounds recured. " Such heat as Phoebus hath me almost slain. As Phoebus' heat } ah ! no, far worse than his ; It is Astrea's burning-hot disdain That parched hath the root of all my bliss : n " Yet as they weat," in the third edition, hut corrected in the text, on the authority of the first edition. Weet was with the extensive poetical licence of the times used for wet whenever the rhyme required it. In support of this assertion, Aixhdeacon Nares has cited Spenser : — " And so from side to side till all the world is weet." PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 53 That hath, alas ! my youth defaced ; That in my face deep wounds hath placed. Ah! that no heat° Can dry the weat.. The flowing weat, of my still weeping eyes ! Ah ! that no weat Can quench the heat. The burning heat within my heart that lies ! " Thou dost, poor earth ! bear many a bitter stound ; While greedy sv/ains, forgetting former need. With crooked ploughs thy tender back do wound. With harrows' biting teeth do make thee bleed : But earth, so may those greedy swains With piteous eye behold thy pains ! Oh, earth ! tell me. When thou dost see Thy fruitful back with golden ears beset, Doth not that joy Kill all annoy. And make thee all thy former wounds forget ? That weat was so used in the text is manifest from the sense of this line and the following ones. Fide p. 53. ° In Sir Egerton Brydges's edition, a note gives the follow- ing reading to this line : " All three have weat ;" but no authority is cited for it. 54 POETICAL RHAPSODY. " And I, if once my tired heart might gain The harvest fair that to my faith is due ; If once I might Astrea's grace regain ; If once her heart would on my sorrows rue : Alas ! I could these plaints forego. And quite forget my former woe. Butj, oh ! to speak Mj heart doth break ; For all my service;, faith, and patient mind, A crop of grief Without relief, A crop of scorn, and of contempt I find. " .Soon as the shepherd's star abroad doth wend. Night's harbinger, to shut in brightsome day. And gloomy night, on whom black clouds attend. Doth, tyrant-like, through sky usurp the sway. Thou art, poor earth, of sun depriv'd. Whose beams to thee all joy deriv'd ; But when Aurore Doth ope her door. Her purple door, to let in Phoebus' wane. The night gives place Unto his race. And then with joy thy sun returns again. " Oh ! would my sun would once return again ! Return, and drive away th' infernal night, PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 55 In which I die, since she did first refrain Her heavenly beams, which were mine only light. In her alone all my light shin'd ; And since she shin'd not, I am blind. Alas ! on all Her beams do fall. Save wretched me, whom she doth them deny ; And blessed day She gives alw To all but me, who still in darkness lie. In mournful darkness I alone do lie. And wish, but scarcely hope, bright day to see; For hop'd so long, and wish'd so long have I, As hopes and wishes both abandon me.P My night hath lasted fifteen years. And yet no glimpse of day appears ! Oh ! do not let Him that hath set His joy, his light, his life, in your sweet grace. Be unreliev'd. And quite depriv'd Of your dear sight, which may this night displace. Phoebus, although with fiery-hoofed steeds Thou daily do the steepy welkin beat, p " As hopes and wishes both are gone from me."— edit. 1602. 56 POETICAL RHAPSODY. And from this painful task art never freed^, But daily bound to lend the world thy heat ; Though thou in fiery chariot ride, And burning heat thereof abide ; Yet soon as night Doth dim the light, And hale her sable cloak through vaulted sky. Thy journey 's ceast. And thou dost rest In cooling waves of Thetis' sovereignty. Thrice happy Sun ! whose pains are ceased by night: Ob, hapless I ! whose woes last night and day ! My pains by day do make me wish for night. My woes by niglit do make me cry for day : By day I turmoil up and down. By night in seas of tears I dowij : O painful plight ! O wretched night. Which never finds a morn of joyful light ! O sad decay ! O wretched day. That never feels the ease of silent night ! " Ye chirping birds ! whose notes might joy my mind^ If to my mind one drop of joy could sink ; Who erst through Winter's rage were almost pin'd^ And kept through barren frost from meat or drink; PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 57 A blessed change ye now have seen^ That changed hath your woeful teen : By day you sing. And make to ring The neighbour groves with echo of your song ; In silent night. Full closely dight. You soundly sleep the bushes green among, " But I, who erst, ah ! woeful word to say, Enjoy'd the pleasant spring of her sweet grace. And then could sing and dance, and sport and play; Since her fierce anger did my spring displace, IMy nightly rest have turn'd to detriment. To plaints have turn'd my wonted merriment : The songs I sing While day doth spring. Are bootless plaints till I can plain no more ; The rest I taste. While night doth last. Is broken sighs, tiU they my heart make sore. " Thou flower of the field ! that erst didst fade, And nipt with northern cold didst hang the head; And trees whose bared boughs have lost their shade. Whose wither'd leaves by western blasts were shed ; Ye 'gin to bud and spring again : Winter is gone, that did you strain. 58 POETICAL RHAPSODY. But I, that late. With upright gait. Bare up my head, while happy favour lasted. Now old am grown. Now overthrown. With woe, with grief, with wailing now am wasted. " Your springing stalk with kindly juice doth sprout. My fainting legs do waste and fall away; Your stretched arms are clad with leaves about. My grief-consumed arms do fast decay ; You 'gin again your tops lift up, I down to earth-ward 'gin to stoop : Each bough and twig Doth wax so big. That scarce the rind is able it to hide ; I do so faint. And pine with plaint. That slops, and hose, and galage, *> wax too wide. " Echo, how well may she that makes me moan. By thy example learn to rue my pain ! Thou hear'st my plaints when as I wail alone. And wailing accents answerest again : q Galage is described by Archdeacon Nares to be " a clown's coarse shoe. The word galloche is now naturalized among us for a kind of clog worn over the shoes." PASTORALS AXD ECLOGUES. 59 When as my breast through grief I beat. That woeful sound thou dost repeat ; When as I sob. And heartly throb, A doleful sobbing sound again thou sendest ; And when I weep. And sigh full deep, A weepy, sighing voice again thou lendest. " But, ah ! how oft have my sad plaints assay 'd To pierce her ears, deaf only unto me ! How oft my woes, in mournful ink array'd. Have tried to make her eyes my griefs to see ! And you, my sighs and tears, how often Have ye sought her Lard heart to soften ! And yet her eye Doth still deny. For all my woes, one bitter tear to shed ; And yet her heart Will not impart One hearty sigh for grief herself hath bred. " Nor I, alas ! do wish that her fair eyes. Her blessed-making eyes, should shed a tear; Nor that one sigh from her dear breast should rise. For all the pains, the woes, the wrongs I bear : First, let this weight oppress me still. Ere she through me taste any ill. 60 POETICAL HHAPSODY. Ah ! if I might But gain her sight. And show her ere I die my wretched case : O then should I Contented die : But ah ! I die, and hope not so much grace." With that his fainting legs to shrink begun. And let him sink with ghastly look to ground ; And there he lay, as though his life were done. Till that his dog, seeing that woeful stound. With piteous howling, kissing, and with scraping. Brought him again from that sweet sour escaping. Then 'gan his tears so swiftly for to flow. As forced his eyelids for to give them way; Then blust'ring sighs too boist'rously 'gan blow. As his weak lips could not his fury stay ; '' And inward grief Avithal so hugely swell'd. As tears, sighs, grief, had soon all words expell'd. At last, when floods of tears began to cease. And storms of weary sighs more calm to blow As he went on with words his grief to ease, * And remnant of his broken plaint to show, ' And their weak lips could not his fury stay.— edit. 1602. s At last, when as his tears began to cease, And weary sighs more calmly for to blow. As he began with words his grief to ea&e.^-edit. 1G02. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 61 He 'spy'd the sky o'erspread with nightly clouds ; So home he went, his flock and him to shroud. EUBULUS HIS EMBLEM. uni mihi pergama resta^•t. Fkancis Davison. 62 POETICAL RHAPSODY. ECLOGUE ENTITLED CUDDY.t A LITTLE herdgroom, for he was no bett'. When course of years return'd the pleasant spring. At break of day, withouten further let. Cast with himself his flock afield to bring ; And for they had so long been pent with pain. At sight of sun they seem'd to live again. Such was the flock, all bent to browse and play. But nothing such their master was to see : Down hung his drooping head like rainy day; His cheeks with tears like springs bedewed be ; His wringed hand such silent moan did make. Well may you guess he was with love y'take. The while his flock went feeding on the green. And wantonly for joy of summer play'd ; All in despight, as if he n'ould be seen. He cast himself to ground full ill appay'd. »Not inserted in the edition of l please : Gone is the day, come is the darksome night. Our sun close hid in clouds doth lie : We live, indeed ; ])ut living die. No light we see. Yet wander we; We wander far and near without a guide : 72 POETICAL nilAISODY. And all astray We lose our way, F'or in this world n'is such sun beside. Ye shepherds' boys that lead your, flocks afield The whilst your sheep feed safely round about. Break me your pipes that pleasant sound did yield ; Sing now no more the songs of Colin Clout. Lament the end of all our joy. Lament the source of all annoy. Willy is dead. Who wont to lead Our flocks and us in mirth and shepherd's glee : Well could he sing^ Well dance and spring ; Of all the shepherds was none such as he. How often has his skill in pleasant song Drawn all the water nymphs from out their bow'rs .'' How have they lain the tender grass along. And made him garlands gay of smelling flow'rs ! Phoebus himself, that conquer'd Pan, Striving with Willy, nothing wan. Methinks I see The time when he Pluck'd from his golden locks the laurel crown ; And so to raise Our Willy's praise, Bedeck'd his head, and softly set him down. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 73 The learned Muses flock'cl to hear his skill. And quite forgot their water, wood, and mount ; They thought his songs were done too quickly still ; Of none but Willy's pipe they made account. He sang, they seem'd in joy to flow ; He ceas'd, they seem'd to weep for woe. The rural rout. All round about. Like bees came swarming thick to hear him sing; Not could they think On meat or drink While Willy's music in their ears did ring. But now, alas ! such pleasant mirth is past ! Apollo weeps, the Muses rend their hair ; No joy on earth that any time can last : See where his breathless corpse lies on the bier ! That selfsame hand that reft his life Hath turned shepherds' jjeace to strife. Our joy is fled. Our life is dead. Our hope, our help, our glory all is gone ; Our poet's praise. Our happy days, And nothing left but grief to think thereon. What Thames, what Severn, or Avhat western seas. Shall give me floods of trickling tears to shed ? l-i* POETICAL RHAPSODY. What comfort can my restless grief appease ? Oh that mine eyes were fountains in my head ! Ah, Colin, I lament thy case : For thee remains no hope of grace. The best relief Of Poet's grief Is .dead and Avrapp'd full cold in filthy clay ; And nought remains To ease our pains. But hope of death to rid us hence away. Phillis, thine is the greatest grief, above the rest. Where bin thy sweetest posies featly dight. Thy garlands with a true-love's knot addrest. And all that erst thou Willy didst behight .'* Thy labour all is lost in vain ; The grief shall aye remain. The sun so bright That falls to-night. To-morrow from the East again shall rise ; But we decay And waste away. Without return : alas ! thy Willy dies. See how the drooping flocks refuse to feed ! The rivers stream with tears about the bank ; The trees do shed their leaves, to wail agreed ; The beasts, unfed, go mourning all in ranks ; PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 75 The sun denies the earth his light ; The spring is kill'd with winter's might ; The flowers spill. The birds are still. No voice of joy is heard in any place ; The meadows green A change have seen. And Flora hides her pale disfigur'd face. Watch now, ye shepherds' boys, with waking eye. And lose your time of sleep to learn to sing. Unhappy skill, what good is got thereby But painted praise that can no profit bring ? If skill could move the sisters three. Our Willy still alive should be. The wolf so woo'd Amazed stood At sound of Willy's pipe, and left his prey. Both pipe and skill The sisters spill : So worse than any wicked wolf are they. O flatt'ring hope of mortal men's delight ! So fair in outward show, so foul within : The deepest streams do flow full calm to sight ; The rav'ning wolves do jet in wether's skin. We deem'd our Willy aye should live, So sweet a sound his pipe could give. 76 POETICAL RHAPSODY. But cruel deatli Hath stopp'd his breath : , Dumb lies his pipe that wont so Bweet to sound : Our Hocks liment His life is spent^ And careless wander all the woods around. " Come now, ye shepherds' daughters, come no more To hear the songs that Cuddy wont to sing : Hoarse is my Muse, my throat with crying sore ; These woods with echo of my grief do ring. Your Willy's life was Cuddy's joy ; Your Willy's death hath kill'd the boy : Broke lies my pipe TiU reeds be ripe To make a new one, but worse I fear : Save year by year To wail my dear. All pipe and song I utterly forswear." THE NOT. Alack and well-a-day ! may shepherds cry, Gur Willy dead, our Colin kill'd with care ! Who shall not loath to live, and long to die ? And will not grief our little Cuddy spare. But must he too of sorrow have a share ? Aye how his rueful verse hath prick'd my heart ! How feelingly hath he exi)ress'd our smart ! i'ASTOUALS AND ECLOGUES. 77 PERIN. Ah, Thenot ! hadst thou seen his sorry look. His wringed hands, his eyes to heaven upcast, His tears that stream'd like water in the brook. His sighs, that made his rhymes seem rudely drest. But hie we homeward ; night approacheth near. And rainy clouds in southern skies appear. A. W. 78 POETICAL KHAPSODY. ® ECLOGUE. SHEPHERD. HEBDMAN. SHEPHERD. Come, gentle herdman, sit by me, And tune thy pipe by mine. Here underneath this willow tree. To shield the hot sunshine ; Where I have made my summer bower. For proof of summer beams ; And deck'd it up with many a flower. Sweet seated by the streams; Where gentle Daphne once a day These flow'ry banks doth walk. And in her bosom bears away The pride of many a stalk ; But leaves the humble heart behind. That should her garland dight ; And she, sweet soul ! the more unkind To set true loves so light: But whereas others bear the bell. As in her favour blest. Her shepherd loveth her as well As those whom she loves best. PASTORALS AND E(;LOGUES. 79 HEKDSIAN. Alas, poor pastor ! I find Thy love is lodg'd so high. That on thy flock thou hast no mind. But feed'st a wanton eye. If dainty Daphne's looks besot Thy doating heart's desire. Be sure, that far above thy lot Thy liking doth aspire. To love so sweet a nymph as she. And look for love again. Is fortune fitting high degree. Not for a shepherd's swain. For she of lordly lads becoy'd. And sought of great estates ; Her favour scorns to be enjoy'd By us poor lowly mates. Wherefore I warn thee to be wise ; Go with me to my walk. Where lowly lasses be not nice ; There like and choose thy make : Where are no pearls or gold to view, No pride of silken sight, But petticoats of scarlet hue, Which veil the skin snow-white. There truest lasses be to get For love and little cost : There sweet desire is paid his debt. And labour seldom lost. 80 I'OETICAL RHAPSODY. SHEPHERD. No, herdman, no! thou rav'st too loud. Our trade so vile to hold ; My weed as great a heart doth shroud, As his that 's clad in gxild. And take the truth that I thee tell. This song fcdr Daphne sings. That Cupid will be served as well Of shepherds as of kings. For proof whereof, old books record That Venus, queen of love. Would set aside her warlike lord. And youthful pastor's prove ; How Paris was as well beloved As simple shepherd's boy. As after when that he was proved King Priam's son of Troy. And therefore have I better hope. As had those lads of yore : My courage takes as large a scope. Although their haps Avere more. And that thou shalt not deem I jest. And bear a mind more base. No meaner hope shall haunt my breast Than dearest Daphne's grace. IMy mind no other thought retains ; Mine eye nought else admires ; My heart no other passion strains. Nor other hap desires. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 81 My Muse of nothing else entreats. My pipe nought else doth sound. My veins no other fever heats. Such faith's in shepherds found. HERDMAN. Ah ! shepherd, then I see, with grief, Thy care is past all cure ; No remedy for thy relief, But patiently endure. Thy wonted liberty is fled. Fond fancy breeds thy bane. Thy sense of folly brought abed. Thy wit is in the wane, I can but sorrow for thy sake. Since love lulls thee asleep ; And whilst out of thy dream thou wake, God shield thy straying sheep ! Thy wretched flock may rue and curse This proud desire of thine. Whose woeful state from bad to worse Thy careless eye will pine. And even as they, thyself likewise With them shall wear and waste To see the spring before thine eyes. Thou thirsty canst not taste. Content thee, therefore, with conceit. Where others gain the grace ; G 82 POETICAL RHAPSODY. And think thy fortune at the height. To see but Daphne's face. Although thy truth deserved well Reward above the rest. Thy haps shall be but means to tell How other men are blest. So, gentle shepherd, farewell now ! Be warned by my reed; For I see WTitten in thy brow, Thy heart for love doth bleed. Yet longer with thee would I stay. If aught would do thee good ; But nothing can the heat allay. Where love inflames the blood. SHEPHERD. Then, herdman, since it is my lot. And my good liking such. Strive not to break the faithful knot That thinks no pain too much: For what contents my Daphne best I never will despise. So she but wish my soul good rest When death shall close mine eyes. Then, herdman, farewell once again. For now the day is fled : So might thy cares, poor shepherd's swain. Fly from thy careful head ! Ignoto. '' b Edit. 1602. ECLOGUE. CONCERNING OLD AGE. [The beginning and end of this Eclogue are wanting.] PERIN. WRENOCK. PERIN. For when thou art not as thou wont of yore. No cause why life should please thee any more. Whilom I was in course of former years. Ere freezing Eld had cool'd my youthful rage ; Of mickle worth among my shepherds' peers. Now for I am some-deal 'ystept in age. For pleasance, strength, and beauty 'gins assuage, Each little herd-groom laughs my wrinkled face Each bonny lass for Cuddy shuns the place : For all this woe none can we justly twight. But hateful Eld, the foe to pleasant rest. Which like a thief doth rob us of delight. WRENOCK. Perin, enough ; few words be always best ; Needs must be borne that cannot be redrest. g2 84 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Self am I as thou seest in tliilke estate ; The grief is eath to bear that has a mate : But sicker for to speak the truth, indeed. Thou seem'st to blame that blameless seems to me. And hurtless Eld to sneb ; ill mought he speed. That slays the dog, for wolves so wicked be ; The faidts of men thou lay'st on age, I see ; For which if Eld were in itself to blame. Then 1 and all my peers should taste the same. PERIN. Wrenock, I ween, thou doat'st through rusty Eld, And think'st with feigned words to blear mine eye ; Thou for thy store art eA'er blessful held : Thy heaps of gold, nil let thee sorrow spy : Thy flocks full safe here under shade do lie ; Thy weanlings fat, thine ewes with bladder blown : A jollier shepherd have we seldom known. WRENOCK. For tliilke my store, great Pan y'herried be : But if for thee mine age with joy I bear. How falls it that thyself unlike to me. Art vexed so with grief and bootless fear .'' Thy store will let thee sleep on either ear. But neither want makes age to wise men hard ; Nor fools by wealth from grievous pain are barr'd. PASTORALS AND ECLOGUES. 85 PERIN. iSeest not how free yond' lambkin skips and plays. And wags his tail, and buts with tender head ? All for he feels the heat of youthly days, Which secret law of kind hath inly bred. Thilke ewe from whom all joy with youth is fled, See how it hangs the head, as it would weep; Whilom it skipp'd,*^ neaths now may it creep. WRRNOCK. No fellowship hath state of beasts with man ; In them is nought but strength of limb and bone. Which ends with age, as it with age began. But man they say'n as other creature none ; Hath uncouth fire convey'd from heaven by one : Ilis name, I wist, that yields him inward light, Sike lire as "\^^elkin shows in winter night. Whicli neither age nor time can wear away ; Which waxeth bett' for use, as shepherd's crook. That ever shineth brighter day by day. Also though wrinkled seems the aged look. Bright shines the fire that from the stars we took. And sooth to say, thilke ewe laments the pain That thilke same wanton lamb will like sustain. t W'rigs edit. 1C(!'2. 86 POETICAL RHAl'SODV. PERIN. All, Tlionot ! be not all thy teeth on edge, To see youth's folk to sport in pastimes gay ? To pith the harr, to throw the Aveighty sledge ; To dance with Phillis all the holy-day ; To hunt by day, the fox ; by night, the gray ? "^ Site peerless pleasures wont us for to queem. Now lig we laid, as drown'd in heavy dream. d A ' badger.' Tlie same term appears to be applied to that animal, in the Canlerbury Tales : " I saw his sieves pnrfited at the hond Witli {jris^ and that the finest of the lond." Mr. Tyrwhitt states that he is not clear what species of fur was meant : but the following passage from Skelton's Crowne of Lawrell tends to prove that gris or yrey meant the badger : " In general wordes I say nat greatly nay, A poet somtyme may for his pleasanre taunt, Spekyng in parables, howe the fox, the grey. The gander, the goose, and the huge oliphant." In the will of Thomas Mussenden, dated in 1402, the ex- pression also occurs, " A gown of skai'let furred with red gray.'''' And again in that of Lady Elizabeth Andi-ews, in 1474 — Testa- rnenta Veiiista, pp. 161 and :130. « Omitted in tlie fourth edition. SONNETS, ODES, ELEGIES, MADRIGALS, AND EPIGRAMS, BY FRANCIS DAVISON AND WALTER DAVISON, BRETHREN. SONNETS. A COMPLAINT. OF WHICH ALL THE STAA'ES END WITH THE WOUDS OF THE FIRST, I.IKE A SESTINE. I. Ye ghastly groves, that hear my woeful cries. Whose shady leaves do shake to hear my pain ; Thou silver stream, that dost with tears lament The cruel chance that doth my grief increase ; Ye chirping birds, whose cheerless notes declare That ye bewail the woes I feel in mind! Bear witness how with care I do consume. And hear the cause why thus I pine away ! 88 POETICAL RHAPSODY II. Love is the cause that makes me pine away. And makes you hear the echo of my cries. Through grief's increase : and tliough the cause of pain Which dotli enforce me still thus to lament. Proceed from love, and though my pain increase By daily cries which do that pain declare. And witness are of my afflicted mind. Yet cry I will, till crying me consume. III. For as the fire the stubble doth consume. And as the wind doth drive the dust away. So pensive hearts are spent with doleful cries. And cares distract the mind with pinching pain. But all in vain I do my cares lament ; IMy sorrow doth my sobs, sighs, tears increase : Though sobs, sighs, tears, my torments do declare. Sobs, sighs, nor tears, move not her flinty mind. IV. I am cast out of her ungrateful mind ; And she hath sworn I shall in vain consume IMy weary days — my life must Avaste away, Consum'd with pain, and worn with restless cries.' So Philon)el, too much oppress'd with pain. By his misdeed that causeth her lament. Doth day and niglit her mournful lays increase. And to the woods her sorrows doth declare. ' Consum'd with deadly pain and restless cries edit. 1621. A COMPLAINT. 89 V. Some ease it is, hid sorrows to declare;® But too small ease to such a grieved mind. Which by repeating woes doth more consume. To end which woes I lind at all no way; A simple salve to cure so great a pain ; But to death's deafened ears to bend my cries. Come, then, ye ghastly owls, help me lament ! And as my cries, so let your shrieks increase. s " The conclusion of this poem," remarks the accui-ate Mr, Haslewood in a note to Sir Egerton Brydges' reprint, " is mate- rially varied in the fourth edition, with an addition of four lines : it is thus printed :" It is some ease, hid sorrows to declare, But too small ease to su^ch a grieved mind ; As by rej)eating cries doth more consume, To end that wliich he finds at all no way. But careful sighs mingled with rutliless cries, (A simple salve to cure so great a pain :) Come then, ye ghastly owls, help me lament. With fearful shrieks, and as your shrieks increase. VI. When as the sun departing doth increase The doubted shadows which as signs declare The night draws near : so I to ease my mind, Here will augment my plaints ; so to consume My wasted life : and though you fly away Soon as the day returns and cease your cries ; Yet I, unhappy wretch, oppress'd with pain, But day and nigiit am forced to lament 90 POETICAL RHAPSODY. VI. For as your shrieks the tunes of death increase. When sun is set and shadows do declare The night's approach ; so I from my dark mind, Since my bright sun is fled, in cries consume My night of woes ; and though you fly away Soon as the day returns and cease your cries. Yet I by day find no release of pain. But day and night so foul a change lament. VII. So foul a change : but while I thus lament My grief with tears, the more for to increase My woe with scoffs, my state she doth declare To him who first from me her wanton mind By gifts did win ; since when I still consume Ay more and more ; ne find I any way To ease my mind : but thus with mournful cries I living die, and dying live in pain. VIII. And now adieu delight, and farewell ]i;iiu ; Adieu vain hope ; I shall no more lament Her feigned faith which did my woes increase ! And ye to whom my griefs I thus declare ; Ye which have heard the secrets of my mind, And seen my lingering life in pain consume ; Adieu, ye woods and waters ! hence away ; By death I must, and cease my ruthful cries. Ye which hear not my cries, nor know my pain. Yet do my chance lament ; let pity increase : Your grief by tears declare, to ease your mind : Witness how I consume and waste away. INSCRIPTIONS. 91 VII. But while I thus to senseless things lament, Ruth of my case in them thereby d' increase. Which she feels not, with scoffs she doth declare My pangs to him, who first her wanton mind From me did win : since when I still consume Like wax 'gainst tire, like snow that melts away Before the sun : thus, thus, with mournful cries I living die, and dying live in pain. VIII. And now adieu delight, and farewell pain ; Adieu vain hope ; I shall no more lament Her feigned faith which did my woes increase ! And ve to whom my griefs I thus declare; Ye which have lieard the secrets of my mind ; And seeing then my ling'ring life in pain consume, Grove, brook, and birds adieu ! now hence away ; By death I will, and cease my deadly cries. Francis Davison. INSCRIPTIONS. TIIISBE. Yi: woeful sires, whose causeless hate hath bred Grief to yourselves, death to my love and me, Let us not be disjoin'd when we are dead, Though we alive conjoin'd could never be. 92 POETICAL IIHAPSODV. Though cruel stars deny'd us two one bed. Yet in one tomb us two entombed see. Like as the dart was one, and one the knife. That did beajin our love and end our life. CLYTEMNESTRA TO HER SON ORESTES, COMING TO KILL HER FOR MURDERING HIS FATHER AGAMEMNON. Hold ! hold thy hand, vile son of viler mother ! Death I deserve, but oh not by thy knife. One parent to revenge wilt thou kill the other. And give her death that gave thee, wretch, thy life ? Furies will plague thy murder execrable. Stages will play thee, and all mothers curse thee. To wound this womb or breast, how art thou able. When the one did bear thee, and the other nurse thee ? AJAX. This sword is mine, or will Laertes' son Win this as he Achilles' armour won. This sword, which you, O Greeks, oft bathed have known In Trojan blood, I '11 now bathe in mine own. This fearless breast, which all mine enemies fierce Have left unpierced, now I myself will pierce. So men shall say, Ajax to none did yield. But t' Ajax' self; and Ajax, Ajax kill'd. INSCRIPTIONS. 99 R03IULUS. No common womb was fit me forth to bring, But a pure virgin priest, child to a king : No mortal father worthy was to breed me ; Nor human milk was fierce enough to feed me. Therefore the God of war by wonder bred me. And a she-wolf by no less ^vonder fed me. In fine, the Gods, because earth was too base, T' entomb me dead, did me in heaven place. FABRITIUS CURIO, WHO REFUSED GOLD OP THE SAMNITES, AND DIS- COVERED TO KING PyilRHUS HIS PHYSICIAN, WHO SOUGHT TO POISON HIM. My famous country values gold far less Than conquest brave of such as gold possess. To be o'ercome with wealth I do not use. And to o'ercome with poison I refuse. No hands loves more than mine to give to many ; No heart hates more than mine to take of any. With so firm steel virtue my mind hath armed, That not by gold nor iron can it be harmed. 94 POETICAL RHAPSODY. CATO UTICAN, WHO SLEW HIMSELF BECAUSE HE WOULD NOT FALL INTO CvESAR's HANDS. CjEsar, thou hast o'ercome^ to thy great fame. Proud Germans, valiant Gauls, and Britons rude, Rome's liberty ; but to thine eternal shame. And her great Champion thou hast each subdued. Yet neither shall thy triumphs with my name Be graced, nor sword be with my blood imbni'd : Though all the conquered earth do now serve thee, Cato Avill die unconquered and free ! A DIALOGUE, IN IMITATION OF THAT BETWEEN HORACE AND LYDIA, BEGINNING, " DONEC, GRATUS ERAM TIBt," &C. LOVER. While thou didst love me, and that neck of thine, More sweet, white, soft than roses' silver down. Did wear a necklace of no arms but mine, I envy'd not the King of Spain his crown. A DIALOGUE. 95 LADY. While of thy heart I was sole sovereign. And thou didst sing none but Melina's name. Whom for bro\ATi Chlok thou dost now disdain. Nor envy'd I the Queen of England's fame. LOVER. Though Chloe be less fair, she is more kind ; Her graceful dancing doth so please mine eye; And through mine ears her voice so charms my mind. That so, dear, she may live, I 'U willing die. LADY. Though Crispus cannot sing my praise in verses, I love him so for skill in tilting shown. And graceful managing of coursers fierce. That his dear life to save I '11 lose mine own, LOVER. What if I sue to thee again for grace, And sing thy praises sweeter than before. If out of my heart I blot Chloe's face. Wilt thou love me again, love him no more .'' LADY. Though he be fairer than the morning star ; Though lighter than the floating cork thou be ; And than the Irish sea more angry far ; With thee I wish to live, and die with tliee. 96 POETICAL RHAPSODY, MADRIGALS. I. Though you be not content That I, poor worm, should love you. As Cupid's power and your sweet beauty cause me ; - Yet, dear, let pity move you To give me your consent To love my life, as law of nature draws me : And if my life I love, then must I too Love your sweet self, for my life lives in you. II. BORROWED OUT OF A GREEK EPIGRAM. He 's rich enough whose eyes behold thee ; Who hears thee sing, a monarch is : A demi-god who doth thee kiss ; And love himself whose arms enfold thee. III. UPON HER DREAMING THAT SHE SAW HIM DEAD. O fair, yet murd'ring eyes. Stars of my miseries. Who while night clouds your beams. How much you wish my death show in your dreams! Is 't not enough that waking you do spill me. But you asleep must kill me .'' O kill me still while you your sleep are taking. So you lend me kind looks when you are waking ! SONNETS. 97 The sound of thy sweet name, my dearest treasure, Delights me more than sight of other faces : A glimpse of thy sweet face breeds me more pleasure, Thau any other's kindest words and graces. One gracious word that from thy lips proceedeth, I value more than others' dove-like kisses : And thy chaste kiss in my conceit exceedeth Others' embraces, and love's chiefest blisses. SONNET. When trait'rous Photine, Caesar did present With his great rival's honourable head. He taught his eyes a stream of tears to shed. Hiding in his false heart his true content. And Hannibal, when Fortune's balance light Raised low-brought Rome and sway'd proud Carthage down, . While all but he bewail'd their yielding town, He laugh'd to ease his swelling heart's despight. Thus cunning minds can mask with diverse art. Grief under feigned smiles, joy under tears : Like Hannibal, I cannot hide my fears, I Setting clear looks upon a cloudy heart, .f- II 98 POETICAL RHAPSODY. But let me joys enjoy, dear, you shall try, Caesar did not his joys so well as I. SONNET. Whilk love in you did live, I only liv'd in you ; While you for me did burn, for you alone I burned ; While you did sigh for me, for you I sigh'd and mourned ; ^ Till you prov'd false to me, to you I was most true. But since love died in you, in you I live no more^ Your heart a servant new, mine a new saint enjoy eth : My sight offends your eyes, mine eyes your sight an- noyeth : Since you held me in scorn, by you I set no store. Yet if dead love, if your late iiames return. If you lament your change, and count me your sole treasure. My love more fresh shall spring, my flame more bright shall burn ; I '11 love none else but you, and love you without measure : If not, untrue, farewell : in sand I '11 sow no grain. Nor plant my love, but where love yields me love again. SONNETS. 99 TO MISTRESS DIANA. Phceuus of all the Gods I Avish to be ; Not of the world to have the overseeing : For of all things in the world's circuit being. One only thing I always wish to see. Not of all herbs the hidden force to know. For ah ! my wound by herbs cannot be cured : Not in the sky to have a place assured. For my ambition lies on earth below. Not to be prince of the celestial quire. For I one nymph prize more than all the Muses : Not with his bow to offer love abuses. For I Love's vassal am, and dread his ire : But that thy light from mine, might borrow'd be. And fair Diana might shine under me. MADRIGAL, UPON HIS DEPARTURE. Sure, dear, I love you not; for he that lovetli. When he from her doth part. That 's mistress of his heart, A deadly pain, a hellish torment proveth. But when sad fates did sever Me far from seeing you, I would see ever ; I felt in my absenting No pain, nor no tormenting. For sense of pain how could he tind. That left his heart and soul behind? H 2 100 POETICAL RHAPSODY. EPIGRAMS, TRANSLATED OUT OP MARTIAL AD jELIAM, 20. 1. 1. Si memini, fnerant tibi quatuor, Aelia, deates, Exspuit una duos tussis, et una duos. Jam secura potes totis tussire diebus, Nil istuc quod agat tertia tussis habet. Four teeth of late you had, both black and shaking. Which durst not chew your meat for fear of aching ; But since your cough, without a barber's aid. Hath blown them out, you need not be afraid On either side to chew hard crusts, for sure Now from the tooth-ache you live most secure. IN HERM. 15. 1. 2. Quod nulli calicem tuum jn'opinas, Humane facis, Herme; non superbe. A monsieur naso, verole. Naso lets none drink in his glass but he. Think you, 'tis curious pride ? 'Tis courtesy. EPIGRAMS. 101 DE CODRO, 15, 1. 3. Pins credif nemo, quam tola Codrus in urbe. Cum sit tam pauper, quomodo? caecus amat. Codrus, although but of mean estate, Trusts more than any merchant in the city ; For being old and blind, he hath of late Married a wife, young, wanton, fair, and witty. AD QUINTUM, 76- 1- 5. Quae legis cansa nupsit tibi liselia, Quinte, Uxorem banc j)ott'ris dicere legitimam. Thy lawful wife fair Ljelia needs must be. For she was fore'd by law to marry thee. IN MARONEM, C)S. 1. 11. Nil mill! das vivus, dicis post fata daturum. Si non es stultus, scis, Maro, quid cupiam. TO A. s. Rich Chremes while he lives will nought bestow On his poor heirs, but all at his last day. If he be half as wise as rich, I trow. He thinks that for his life they seldom pray. 102 rOETICAL RHAPSODY, Semper eris pauper, si pauper as, jEmiliane. Dantur opes nullis nunc nisi divitibus.* TO ALL POOR SCHOLARS. Fail ye of wealth, of wealth ye still will fail, None but fat sows are now greas'd in the tail. * The followinif translations of tliis Epigram, amongst -which are two, excepting in a mere verbal alteration, the same as that in- the text, togetlier with tiie others which follow them, are taken from Harl. M8S. 2{)0, and the grovmds on which they are attri- buted to- Francis Davisfm are fully explained in the memoir of his life at the commencement of this volume. The words omitted are rendered illegible l>y the carelessness of the binder; in one or two places tlie words apparently defaced are supplied, and placed within bracivets. Semper eris ]jaiiper, &c. If thou be poor, poor shalt thou still remain, Little grows less, but -n-ealth more wealth doth gain. [ Those who] are poor shall yet be nearer driv'n : [For] only to the rich are all things giv'n. The rich find friends ; the poor stand [quite] alone; They wealth and honour gain ; the poor get none. [Failest] thou of wealth?- of wealth thou still wilt fail; [Now] men grease none but fat sows in the tail. If thou be poor, thou wilt be poorer yet, For fat sows' tails now all the grease do get. If thou be poor, poor still thou 'It be, that 's flat ; No sows' tails now are greas'd, but those are fat. Nothing hangs now for poor men's mouths at all ; But all good haps in rich men's mouth do fall. Dost thou want wealth ? 'faith thou shalt want it more. But hast thou much ? thou shalt have greater stere. Honour and wealth are wit and virtue's nurses ; And wit arul virtue, wealth and honour merit i EPIGRAMS. 103 IN CINNAM, 43. 1. 7- Primum est ut prsestes, si quid te, Ciniia, rogabo, Illud deinde sequens, ut cito, Cinna, neges. Diligo praestaiitem, non odi, Cinna, negantem, Sed tu iiec prsestas, nee cito, Cinna, negas. TO HIS FRIENDS. My just demands so one grant or soon deny; Th' one friendship shows, and th' other courtesy. But who, nor soon doth grant, nor soon say no. Doth not true friendship, and good manners know. But wit and virtue join'd with empty purses, [Nor] wealth, nor honour, in this time inherit. burthen that doth bear the steye .... of so sore a weight as poverty. Want 's like an Irisli bog, wherein who sticketh, By striving to get out, still deeper sinketh. Virtue and learning were in former time Sure ladders by the which a man might climl) To honor's seat : Imt now they wiU not hold. Unless the mounting steps l)e made of gold. Virtue and learning, that were late neglected. And now (oh ! happy times !) restored to grace; And nothing now in suitors is inspected, But that they have good gifts fit for the place. Who seeks promotion now is not respected. Except he have good gifts for the place. The following translations, which have not before been pi'inted, were taken from the same MS. Hand facile cmcrcjunt. Viitne, thou canst not now to honour flee Except thy wings with gold well . . .ped be. 104 POETICAL RHAPSODY, IN CINNAM, 61. 1. 3. Esse nihil dicis, quicquid petis, improbe Cinna ; Si nil, Cinna, petis, nil tibi, Cinna nego. Whatso'eb you coggingly require, 'Tis nothing, Cinna, still you cry : Then, Cinna, you have your desire; If you ask nought, nought I deny. 1)E PUILONE, 48. 1. 5. Nunquam se ca>nasse domi Pliilo jurat, et hoc est, Non cccnat quoties nemo vocavit eum. Philo swears he ne'er eats at home a-nights : He means, he fasts when no man him invites. If Virtue's wings be clypt by poverty. She cannot now unto preferment Hy. Funi yestato yerilur iimic funi sacerdos, Et juffulum qui ohiit pcctora funis obit. A rope bears him who late a rope did bear ; And what his reins late Avore, his neck doth wear. "\^''ho bore a ro])e, now by a rope is borne ; And now his neck wears that, his back hath worn. Who bare a rope, now liy a rope is borne, And what his loins wore, I)y his neck is worn. Te speculum fallit, &c. Gellia, thy glass extremely flatters thee : For if thy filthy face thou once shouldst see In a true glass, doubtless thou wouldst refrain ¥rom ever looking in a glass again, D. EPIGRAMS. 12. 1. 12. 105 You promise mountains still to me. When over-night stark drunk you be ; But nothing you perform next day : Henceforth be morning drunk, I pray. AD PESSIMOS CONJUGES, 35. 1. B. Cum sitis similes, paresqiie vita : Uxor pessima, pessimus maritus, IVIiror nou bene convenire vobis. Why do your wife and you so ill agree. Since you in manners so well matched be ? Thou brazen-fac'd ; she impudently bold; Thou still dost brawl ; she evermore doth scold. Thou seldom sober art ; she often drunk ; Thou a whore-hunting knave; she a known punk. Both of you filch, both swear, and damn, and lie ; And both take pawns, and Jewish usury. Not manners like, make man and wife agree ; Their manners must both like and virtuous be. EPIGRAMS. A UULE yon COURTIEKS. He that will tlirive in court, must oft become. Against his will, both blind, and deaf, and dumb. 106 I'OiiTICAL llUAl'SOJDY. ON A PAINTED COURTESAN. Whosoever saith thou sellest all, doth jest : Thou buy'st thy beauty, that sells all the rest, IN AULAM. Her sons rich Aula terms her lechers all, Whom other dames, loves, friends, and servants call. And sure methinks her wit Gives them a name more fit ; For if all mothers them their sons do call. Whom they have only borne nine months in all; May she not call them sons with better reason. Whom she hath borne nine times as long a season ? for a looking-glass. If thou be fair, thy beauties beautify With virtuous deeds and manners answerable : If thou be foul, thy beauties want supply. With a fair mind and actions commendable. IN ASINIUBI. Thou still wert wont, in earnest or in jest. To praise an ass as a most worthy beast. Now like an ass thyself thou still commendest, Whats'e'er thou speakest, with thine own ]}raise thou endest. Oh ! I perceive thou praisest learnedly. An ass in Thesi and HippothesL EPIGRAMS. 107 ON A LIMPING CUCKOLD. Thou evermore dost ancient poets blame. For feisnino;: Venus wife to Vulcan lame. I blame the stars, and Hymen too, that gave A fair straight wife to thee, a foul lame knave : And nought doth ease my grief but only this. Thy Venus now hath got a Mars to kiss. ON CKA3JB0, A LOUSY SHIFTER. By want of shift since lice at tirst are bred ; And after, by the same increas'd and fed : Crambo, 1 muse how you have lice so many; Since all men know you shift as much as any. IN QUINTUM. QuiNTUs is burnt, and may thereof be glad; For being poor, he hath a good pretence At every church to crave benevolence. For one that had by lire lost all he had. IN SABAM. Wiiv will not Saba in a glass behold Her face, since she grew wrinkled, pale and old ? Doubtless, I think she doubts that ugly sight. Like cow-turn'd lo would herself affright. 108 POETICAL RHAPSODY. SONNETS. OEDICATION OF THESE RHYMES TO HIS FIRST LOVE. If my harsli humble style, and rhymes ill dressed, Arrive not to your worth and beauty glorious. My Muse's shoulders are with weight oppressed. And heavenly beams are o'er my fight victorious. If these dim colours have your worth expressed. Laid by love's '' hand, and not by art laborious. Your sun-like rays have my wits' harvest blessed. Enabling me to make your praise notoriou^. But if, alas ! alas ! the heavens defend it ! My lines your eyes, my love your heart displeasing, Breed hate in you, and kill my hope of easing ; Say, with yourself, how can the wretch amend it ? I wond'rous fair, he wond'rous dearly loving, How can his thoughts but make his pen be moving } THAT-HE CANNOT HIDE OR DISSEMBLE HIS AFFECTION. I BEND my wits, and beat my weary brain. To keep my inward grief from outward show. Alas, I cannot ; now 'tis vain, I know, To hide a fire whose fiame appeareth plain. I force my will, my senses I constrain, T' imprison in my heart my secret woe : 'i Lovers edit. 1608. SONNETS. 109 But musinj?; thoughts, deep sighs, or tears that flow, Discover what my heart hides all in vain. Yet blame not, dear, this undissembled passion ; For Avell may love, within small limits bounded. Be wisely mask'd in a disguised fashion: But he whose heart, like mine, is thoroughly wounded. Can never feign, no, though he were assured That feigning might have greater grace procured. UPON KIS ABSENCE FROM HER. The fairest eye, O eyes in blackness fair! That ever shin'd, and the most heavenly face. The daintiest smiling, the most conquering grace. And sweetest breath that e'er perfumed the air ; Those cherry lips,' whose kiss might well repair A dead man's state; that speech which'' did displace AH mean desires, and all aiFections base. Clogging swift hope, and winging dead despair; That snow-white breast, and all those faultless fefi- tures. Which made her seem a personage divine. And far excelling fairest human creatures. Hath absence banish'd from my cursed eyne. But in my heart, as in a mirror clear. All these perfections to my thoughts appear. i The cliLTiist lijis edit. l(iO-2. ^ Omitted edit. 1010 ami 1021. 110 POETICAL RHAl'SODY. UPON PRESENTING HER WITH THE SPEECH OP GRAY's-INN mask, AT THE COURT, 1595, Consisting of Three Parts — The Story^of Proteus' Transforma- tions, The Wonders of the Adamantine Rock, and a Speech to Her Majesty. ' Who in these lines may better claim a part. That sing the praises of the maiden Queen, Than you, fair sweet, that only sovereign been Of the poor kingdom of my faithful heart ? Or to ^^'hose view should I this speech impart. Where th' adamantine rock's great power is shown ; But to your conq'ring eyes, whose force once known. Makes even iron hearts loath thence to part ? Or who of Proteus' sundry transformations. May better send you the new- feigned story. Than I, whose love unfeign'd felt no mutations. Since to be yours I first received the glory? Accept, then, of these lines, though meanly penn'd. So fit for you to take, and me to send. I Some observations on this Masque, and of the part taken in it by Francis Davison, will be found in the Memoir of hiui in this volume. That portion of it which is considered to have been written by Davison is inserted in a subsequent page. ELEGY. HE RENOUNCETII HIS FOOD, AND FORMER DELIGHT IN MUSIC, POESY, AND PAINTING. Sitting at board sometimes, prepared to eat. If 't hap my mind on these my woes to think. Sighs fill my mouth instead of pleasant meat. And tears do moist my lips in lieu of drink : But yet, nor sighs, nor tears, that run amain. Can either starve my thoughts, or quench my pain. Another time with careful thought o'erta'en, I thought these thoughts with music's might to chase : But as I 'gan to set my notes in frame, A sudden passion did my song displace : Instead of rests, sighs from my heart did rise; Instead of notes, deep sobs and mournful cries. Then, Avhen I saw, that these my thoughts increas'd. And that my thoughts unto my woes gave fire, I hop'd both thoughts and woes might be releas'd. If to the Muses I did me retire ; Whose sweet delights were wont to ease my woe: But now, alas ! they could do nothing so. 112 I'OETICAL RHAPSODY^. For trying oft, alas! yet still in vain. To make some pleasant numbers to arise, And beating oft my dullen'" weary brain. In hope some sweet conceit for to devise : Out of my mouth no words but groans would come ; Out of my pea no ink but tears would run. Of all my old delights yet one was left ; Painting alone to ease my mind remain'd ; By which, when as I look'd to be bereft Of these lieart- vexing woes that still me strain'd, From forth mine eyes the blood for colours came. And tears withal to temper so the same. Adieu, my food ! that wont'st my taste to please. Adieu, my songs ! that bred mine ears' delight ; Adieu, sweet Muse ! that oft my mind didst ease ; Painting, adieu ! that oft refresh'd my sight ; Since neither taste, nor ears, nor sight, nor mind, In your delights can aught, save sorrow, find. "» DuDed edit. 1608. The proper reading appears to lie, " And beating oft ray dull and weary brain." SONNET. TO PITY. Wake, Pity, wake ! for thou hast slept too long Within the tig'rish heart of that fierce fair. Who ruins most where most she should repair. And where she owes most right, doth greatest wrong. Wake, Pity, wake ! Oh do no more prolong Thy needful help, but quickly hear my prayer ; Quickly, alas ! for otherwise despair. By guilty death, will end my guiltless wrong. Sweet Pity, wake, and tell my cruel sweet, That if my death her honour might increase, I would lay down my life at her proud feet, And willing die, and dying, liold my peace. And only live, and living, mercy cry. Because her glory in my death will die." " This sonnet, in the first edition, concludes thus : •' Tell her I live, and living, cry for grace. Because my death her glory would deface." 114 POETICAL RHAPSODY. ODE. THAT ONLY HER BEAUTY AND VOICE PLEASE HIM. I. Passion may my judgment blear. Therefore sure I will not swear That others are not pleasing : But, I speak it to my pain. And my life shall it maintain. None else yields my heart easing. II. Ladies I do think there be Other-some as fair as she. Though none have fairer features; But my turtle-like affection. Since of her I made election. Scorns other fairest creatures. III. Surely I will not deny But some others reach as high With their sweet warbling voices : But since her notes charmed mine ear. Even the sweetest tunes I hear. To me seem rude harsh noises. MADRIGALS. TO CUPID. Love, if a God thou art, Then evermore thou must Be merciful and just. If thou be just, oh wherefore doth thy dart Wound mine alone, and not my Lady's heart ? If merciful, then why Am I to pain reserv'd. Who have thee truly serv'd ; While she that by thy power sets not a fly. Laughs thee to scorn, and lives' at" liberty ? Then, if a God thou wilt^ accounted be. Heal me like her, or else wound her like nie. o In liberty — edit. 1C02, p Wouldst cdil. 1G02. I 2 116 POETICAL RHAPSODY. UPON HIS mistress' SICKNESS, AND HIS OWN HEALTH. In health and ease am I ; Yet, as I senseless were, it nought contents me. You sick in pain do lie ; And, ah, your pain exceedingly torments me. Whereof I can this only reason give. That dead unto myself, in you I live.'' HE BEGS A KISS. Sorrow slowly killeth any, Sudden joy soon murders many;"" Then, sweet, if you would end me, 'Tis a fond course with ling'ring grief to spend me. For, quickly to dispatch me. Your only way is, in your arms to catch me. And give me dove-like kisses •/ For such excessive and unlook'd-for blisses. Will so much over-joy me. As they will straight destroy me, 1 In the first edition the concluding lines are, " Whereof this only is the reason true, That dead unto myself I live in you." r " Sorrow seldom killeth any, Sudden joy hath murder'd many." — edit. 1602. '■' And give me a sweet kiss — ibid. MADRIGALS. 117 UPON A KISS RECEIVED.* Since I your cherry lips did kiss. Where nectar and ambrosia is^, My hungry maw no meat requires ; My thirsty throat no drink desires. For by your breath which then I gained, Camelion-like, my life's maintained. O grant me then those cherries still," And let me feed on them my fill. If by a surfeit death I get. Upon my tomb let this be set : By cherries twain his life he cherish'd. By cherries twain at length he perish'd." ' This Madrigal begins thus in the first Edition : " Since your sweet cherrj- lip I kiss, No want of food I once have mist ; My stomach now no meat requires, My throat no drink at all requires." " Then grant me, dear, those cherries still, O let me feed &c. X The last lines are materially different in the first edition,. " Here lieth he whom cherries two Made both to live, and love forego." 118 POETICAL RHAPSODY. ODE.^ UPON HER PROTESTATION OF KIND AFFECTION, HAVING TRIED HIS SINCERE FIDELITY. Lady, you are with beauties so enriched Of body and of mind, As I can hardly find, Which of them all hath most my heart bewitched. "• \ Whether your skin so white, so smooth, so tender. Or face well form'd and fair. Or heart-ensnaring hair,' Or dainty hand, or leg and foot so slender. III.' Or whether your sharp wit and lively spirit. Where pride can find no place : Or your enchanting grace,* Or speech, which doth true eloquence inherit. y The title in the first edition is, " Upon her protesting that now having tried his sincere affection, she loved him." z Or face so lovely fair, Long heart binding )xa.\T.—edit. 1 602. *» Or your most pleasing grace. — ibid. ODE. 119 IV. Most lovely aU, and each of them do move me. More than words can express ; But yet I must confess, I love you most, because you please to love me. HIS RESTLESS ESTATE. Your presence breeds my anguish. Your absence makes me languish : Your sight with woe doth {ill me; And want of your sweet sight, alas, doth kiU me. If those dear eyes that burn me. With mild aspect you turn me. For life my weak heart panteth; If frowninglv, my sp'rit and life blood fainteth. If you speak kindly to me, Alas ! kind words undo me : Yet silence doth dislike me, And one unkind ill word, stark dead would strike me. Thus, sun nor shade doth ease me; Nor speech, nor silence please me : Favours and frowns annoy me; Both want and plenty equally destroy me. 120 POETICAL RHAl'SODV. ELEGY. LETTERS IN VERSE. My dearest Sweet, if these sad lines do hap The raging fury of the sea to 'scape. Oh be not you more cruel than the seas, Let pity now your angry mind appease ; So that your hand may be their blessed port. From whence they may unto your eyes resort ; And at that throne pleading my wretched case. May move your cruel heart to yield me grace. So may no clouds of elder years obscure Your sun-like eyes, but still as bright endure. As then they shone when with one piercing ray They made my self their slave, my heart their prey; So may no sickness nip those flowers sweet. Which ever flowering on your cheeks do meet : Nor all defacing time have power to 'rase. The goodly building of that heavenly face. II. Fountain of bliss, yet well-spring of my woe. Oh would I might not justly term you so ! Alas, your cruel dealing, and my fate. Have now reduc'd me to that wretched state. ELEGY. 121 That I know not how I my style may frame To thanks, or grudging ; or, to praise, or blame : And where to write I all my po\^ers do bend. There wot I not how to besin or end. And now my drizzling tears trill down apace. As if the latter would the former chase. Whereof some few on my pale cheeks remain. Like wither 'd flowers, bedew-'d with drops of rain : The other falling in my paper sink. Or dropping in my pen increase my ink. Which sudden passion's cause if you would find. A trembling fear doth now possess my mind, That you will not vouchsafe these lines to read. Lest they some pity in your heart may breed : But, or with angry frowns refuse to take them. Or taking them the fire's fuel make them : Or, with those hands, made to a milder end. These guiltless leaves all into pieces rend. O cruel Tyrant ! yet beloved still, "VMierein have I deserv'd of you so ill. That all my love you should with hate requite, And all my pains reward with such despite ? Or if my fault be great, which I protest Is only love, too great to be exprest. What, have these lines so harmless, innocent, Deserv'd to feel their master's punishment ? Tliese leaves are not unto my fault consenting. And therefore ought not to have the same tormenting. 12^ POETICAL RHAPSODY. When you have read them, use them as you list. For by your sight they shall be fully blest : But till you read them, let the woes I have. This harmless paper from your fury save. III. Clear up, mine eyes, and dry yourselves, my tears. And thou, my heart, banish these deadly fears : Persuade thyself, that though her heart disdain Either to love thy love, or rue thy pain. Yet her fair eyes will not a look deny To this sad story of thy misery. Oh then, my dear, behold the portraiture Of him that doth all kind of woes endure ; Of him whose head is made a hive of woes. Whose swarming number daily greater grows ; Of him whose senses like a rack are bent. With diverse motions my poor soul to rent ; Whose mind a mirror is, which only shews The ugly image of my present woes : Whose memory's a poison'd knife to tear The ever bleeding woimd my breast doth bear; The ever bleeding wound not to be cured. But by those eyes that first the same procured. And that poor heart, so faithful, constant, true. That only loves, and serves, and honours you. Is like a feeble ship, which, torn and rent. The mast of hope being broke, and tackling spent ; ELEGY. 123 Reason, the pilot;, dead, the stars obscured. By which alone to sail it was enured ; No port, no land, no comfort once expected. All hope of safety utterly neglected ; With dreadful terror tumbling up and down Passion's uncertain waves with hideous sound. Doth daily, hourly, minutely expect, When either it should run, and so be wreck'd. Upon Despair's sharp rock, or be o'erthrown With storm of your disdain so fiercely blown. IV. But yet of all the woes that do torment me. Of all the torments that do daily rent me,"* There's none so great, although I am assured That even the least cannot be long endured. As that so many weeks, nay months and years. Nay tedious ages, for it so appears. My trembling heart, besides so many anguishes, 'Tvvixt hope and fear uncertain, hourly languishes : Whether your hands, your eyes, your heart of stone. Did take my lines, and read them, and bemoan With one kind word, one sigh, one pitying tear, Th' unfeigned grief which you do make me bear,*^ b But yet of all the woes that do torment my heart, Of all the torments that do daily rent my lieart — edit. 1602. ' Th' unfeigned grief which for your love I bear — ibid. 124 POETICAL RHAPSODY. Whether y' accepted that last monument Of my dear love, the book I mean^ I sent To your dear self, when the respectless wind Bore me away, leaving my heart behind. And deign, sometimes, when you the same do view. To think on him who always thinks on you : Or whether you, as oh, I fear you do. Hate both my self, and gifts, and letters too. I must confess. Unkind, when I consider,"^ How ill, alas, how ill agree together. So peerless beauty to so fierce a mind. So hard an inside to so fair a rind, A heart so bloody to so white a breast, So proud disdain with so mild looks supprest ; And how, my dear, oh, would it had been never. Accursed word ! nay would it might be ever : How once, I say, till our heart was estranged, Alas, how soon my day to night was changed ! You did vouchsafe my poor eyes so much grace. Freely to view the riches of your face. And did so high exalt my lowly heart. To call it yours, and take it in good part. And, which was greatest bliss, did not disdain, For boundless love to yield some love again. 'I I must confess (unkind) when I do consider — edit. 1602. K ELEGY. 12d When this, I say, I call unto my mind. And in my heart and soul no cause can find. No fact, no word, Avhereby my heart doth merit. To lose*^ that love, which once I did inherit. Despair itself cannot make me despair But that you '11 prove as kind as you are fair. And that my lines, and book. Oh would 't were true, Are, though I know't not yet^ received by you ; And often have your cruelty repented. Whereby my guiltless heart is thus tormented. And now at length, in lieu of passed woe. Will pity, kindness, love and favour shew/ VI. But when again my cursed memory, To my sad thoughts confounded diversly. Presents the time, the tear-procuring time. That wither'd my young joys before their prime : The time when I with tedious absence tired, With restless love and rack'd desire inspired. Coming to find my earthly Paradise, To glass my sight in your two heavenly eyes, On which alone my earthly joys depended. And wanting which, my joy and life were ended, e To love that love, in the second, third, and fourth editions, but it is evidently a misprint. In the first edition it stands, So fact, no word, whereby my heart hath merited, Of your sweet love to be thus disinherited.— «rft<. 1602. f Will pity, grace, and love, and favour shew. — iOid. 1602. 126 POETICAL RHAPSODY. From your sweet rosy lips, the springs of bliss. To draw the nectar of a sweetest kiss : My greedy ears on your sweet words to feed. Which candied in your sugar'd breath proceed In daintiest accents through that coriil door. Guarded with precious pearl and rubies' store : To touch your hand so white, so moist, so soft. And with a ravish'd kiss redoubled oft. Revenge with kindest spite the bloody theft. Whereby it closely me my heart bereft : And of all bliss to taste the consummation. In your sweet, graceful, heavenly conversation. By whose sweet charms the souls you do enchant Of all that do your lovely presence haunt : Instead of all these joys I did expect. Found nought but frowns, unkindness and neglect. Neglect, unkindness, frowns ? nay, plain contempt, And open hate, from no disdain exempt; No bitter words, side-looks,= nor aught that might Engrieve, encrease so undeserv'd despite. When this, I say, I think, and think withal How, nor those show'rs of tears mine eyes let fall. Nor wind of blust'ring sighs with all their force, Could move your rocky heart once to remorse ; Can I expect that letter should find grace. Or pity ever in your heart have place ? ? Besides looks.— crft^ 1621. ELEGY. 1S7 No no, I think, and sad despair says for me. You hate, disdain, and utterly ablior me. VII. Alas, my Dear, if this you do devise. To try the virtue, of your murdering eyes. And in the glass of bleeding hearts, to view The glorious splendour of your beauty's hue. Ah, try it on rebellious hearts, and sprites'" That do withstand the power of sacred lights. And make them feel, if any such be found. How deep and cureless your eyes can wound. But spare, oh spare my yielding heart, and save Him whose chief glory is to be your slave : Make me the matter of your clemency. And not the subject of your tyranny. •' 111 tlie second, third, and fourth editions, this line is printed " Ah try it on rebellious hearts and eyes" but as this ill agrees with the sense and not at aU with the rhjTne, Sir Egerton Brydges has, with his usual ingenuity, sug- gested that the concluding word of the next line " lights" was a misprint for " sighs ;" and though this correction would im- prove the passage, still the idea of trying the eflFect of beauty's resplendent hue on rebellious hearts and eyes That do withstand the power of sacred sighs, approached too nearly to nonsense, for it to lia\e been the poet's meaning. The first edition of the Rhapsody, which was not dis- covered when the Lee Priory Edition was printed, but from which the text was corrected, has, however, perfectly explained the lines in question, and, as it now stands, the simile is highly beautiful. 128 POETICAL RHAPSODY. ODE. BEING BY HIS ABSENCE IN ITAIf a music-master, and was bora near Taunton, in Somersetshire, in 15G2. In 1579 he was ad- mitted a commoner of Magdalen Hall, Oxford; but, perhaps from that want of aj)plicati(m which is too oft«n the companion of ge- nius, he left the University without having graduated, and devoted himself to History and the Muses, instead of Logic and Theo- logy. His translation of Paulus Jovius, and a " Discourse on rare Inventions," or, more probably the interest of his brother-in- law, the well known John Florio, obtained him the appointment ■of Gentleman Extraordinary, and afterwards, of Groom of tlie J. 2 148 POETICAL RHAPSODY. So, learned Daniel, when as thou didst see. That Spenser erst so far had spread his fame. That he was monarch deem'd of Poesy, Tlioii didst, I guess, even burn with jealousy. Lest laurel were not left enough to frame A nest sufficient for thine endless name. But as that pearl of Greece soon after pass'd In wond'rous conquests his renowned sire. And others all, whose names by Fame are plac'd In highest seat : so hath thy Muse surpass'd Spenser, and all that do with hot desire To the thunder-scorning laurel-crown aspire. Chamher, to Queen Anne, consort of James I. His reputation liotli as a Poet and an Historian, was about this time at it& meridian ; and according to Antony Wood, he succeeded Spen- ser as the Poet Laureat. Of his life little is recorded, possibly because it presented few incidents beyond those of ordinary men ; for, with very few exceptions, the lives of scholars afford but scanty materials for biography. It appears that in his latter years he retired near to the place where he was born, and died in October 161!), aged about fifty-seven, at Beckington near Philip's-Norton in Somersetshire. Having been the tutor to Ann, daughter and sole heiress of George Clifford Earl of Cum- berland, she, from a feeling which reflects honour on her character, erected a monument to his memory, on which he is described as '■'• that excellent Poet and Historian." Daniel's chief productions are, "The Complaint of Rosamond;" various " Sonnets to Delia;" a tragedy entitled " Cleopatra ;" an historical poem on " The Civil Wars between the Houses of Vork and Lancaster ;" " The Vision of the Twelve God- desses;" &c. His Poetical Works were edited by his brother John Daniel, in 1623. EPITAPHS, 149 And as liis empire's linked force was IcHown, When each of those that did his kingdom share, The mightiest kings in might did match alone ; So of thy skill the greatness thus is shown ; Tliat each of those, great poets deemed are. Who may in no one kind with thee compare. One shar'd out Greece, another Asia held. And fertile Egypt to a third did fall ; But only Alexander all did wield. So in soft pleasing lyrics some are skill'd. In tragic some, some in heroical ; But thou alone art matchless in them all. NON EQUIDEM INVIDEO, MIROR MAGIS. THREE EFITAPHS UPON THE DEATH OP A RARE CHILD OP SIX YEARS OLD. I. Wit's perfection, Beauty's wonder, Nature's pride, the Graces' treasure. Virtue's hope, his friends' sole pleasure. This small marble stone lies under ; Which is often moist with tears. For such loss in such young years. 150 POETICAL KHAPSODY. II. Lovely boy ! thou art not dead, But from earth to heaven fled ; For base earth Avas far unfit For thy beauty, grace, and wit. III. Thou alive on earth, sweet boy, Hadst an angel's wit and face ; And now dead, thou dost enjoy. In high Heaven, an angel's place. AN INSCRIPTION FOIl THE STATUE OF DIDO. Oh most unhappy Dido ! Unhappy wife, and more unhappy widow ! Unhappy in thy mate. And in thy lover most unfortunate : By treason th' one was reft thee ; By treason th' other left thee. That left thee means to fly with ; This left thee means to die with. The former being dead. From brother's sword thou fliest : The latter being fled. On lover's sword thou diest. piu meritare, che conseguire. Francis Davison. jmiYEFSITY OF CALIFOHNIa UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. q6 V^' i\3 HI l''orni L-fr ■?^ .fM^JW^ 353 386 ^a // i^ / ,f^ :)J \\m^>: