University of Virginia Library

All the kings short poesis that ar not printed

AMATORIA

1
A complaint against the contrary Wyndes that hindered the Queene to com to Scotland from Denmarke

2
To the Queene

As on the wings of your enchanting fame
I was transported ou'r the stormie seas
Who coulde not quenche that restles burning flame
Which onlie ye by sympathie did mease
So can I troubled be with no disease
Bot ye my onlie Medicinar remaines
And easilie when euer that ye please
May salue my sores and mitigatt my paines
Your smiling is an antidote againes
The Melancholie that oppresseth me
And when a raging wrathe into me raignes
Your louing lookes may make me calme to be
How oft yow see me haue an heauie hart
Remember then sweete Doctour on your art.

3
To the Queene, Anonimos

That blessed houre when first was broght to light
Our earthlie Juno, and our gratious Queene
Three Goddesses how soone they hade her seene
Contended who protect her shoulde by right
Bot being as Goddesses of equall might
And as of female sexe like stiffe in will
It was agreed by sacred Phœbus skill
To ioyne there powers to blesse that blessed wight.
Then happie Monarch sprung of Ferguse race
That talkes with wise Minerue when pleaseth the
And when thou list sume Princelie sporte to see
Thy chaste Diana rides with the in chase
Then when to bed thou gladlie does repaire
Clasps in thine armes thy Cytherea faire.

4
Two Sonnets to her M:tie to show the difference of Stiles

5

[the Cheuiott hills doe with my state agree]

6
Constant Loue in all Conditions

7
A Dier at her M:ties desyer

If mourning might amend my harde vnhappie cace
Or if complaining coulde appease Dame Fortunes frowning face
Then shoulde I neuer cease by songs and sonnets still
With my to iust conceaued regraits the earthe and aire to fill
My cairfull cries and grones shoulde make the rockes rebounde
The montains riue and all the earth with Echoes to resounde
No Orpheus charming notes for his departed wife
Nor raging Roland for his loue that ledd so madd a life
No not the worlde in one compared should neuer be
Vnto the mone that I shoulde make, suche passions martyrs me
Bot what can that awaile except for to renewe
My olde and deeplie rooted griefs that els to gladlie grewe
To rankle wp the sore that lurkes into my hart
And as a cancer make it spreade abroade in euerie part.
What wrathe haue all the Gods conceaued at me allace
That makes me loue where hatred dwells, and pittie hath no place
Ô if she were bot faire, or if she were bot false
Bot faire and false torments me thus and holdes me by the halse
If beautie as it ought with bountie coupled ware
Then suirlie she wolde pittie take on my consuming caire
Or if she wear but false and lacking Venus grace
Then woulde I not haue bene abused by her enchanting face
Thus am I tortured still, I mourne without remeade
My languour lackes one graine of houpe to mixe with daylie dreade
My teares getts no regarde, my sighs can haue no eare
And in one houre is quite forgott my seruice manie a yeare
What houpe can rest behinde, what may I looke for then
Bot be a butt to heauenlie plagues, a monstre amongs men
My state can neuer change my griefs are bot begunne
Thus casten is my luckles lott that woefull weirds haue spunne
Awaye with comfort then and wellcome colde dispaire
And since I can haue no delight, lett me delight in caire
My mirth in murning be, my ioye in dolours deepe
I will with sadd and sorie sighs my selfe from languour keepe
And for my cheefest sports to minde then will I bring syne
As in a roll my whole mishaps, then like a swanne them sing
My houpe is whole transformed in blacke and colde dispaire
Except I onlie houpe for deathe to end continuall caire:
No, death he must not haste, my mischiefs woulde he mend
It best becumes my miserie to duine before I end
Yett if the endles smart and sorrowe I sustaine
Were suffered for sume worthie wight, I happie wolde remaine
I wolde me happie thinke if thus I martyred ware
For sume sweete Sainct in sacrifice that both were good and faire
Bot ô allace my paine and restles griefe it growes
For her who neuer once on me a louing thought bestowes
Yett lett not this dishart no happie man in loue that
Who finds a maike that will not change, nor for no chance remoue.
All wemen are in ouers, in vertue sume excell
And sume in vices may ou'rmatche the greatest Diuell in hell
The blessedest creatures made by God the Angells ware
The cursedest creatures in the worlde the fallen Angells are
For me I onlie craue a spectacle to be
Wherin as in á masse confused all miseries men may see
And when my happ shall be to goe to wished graue
Which is the onelie happie chance I euer wishe to haue
That then the passenger may reade in going by
For true and honest constant loue, this patient here does lye.

the sonnett lakkis heere quhiche interprettis all the matter

My Muse hath made a willfull lye I grante,
I sung of sorrows neuer felt by me;
I haue as great occasion for to wante,
My loue begunne my blessing for to be.
How can I then excuse so lowd a lye?
O yes, I did it euen at her desire,
Who made me such successe in loue to see,
How soone her flames hade sett my hart on fire.
Since for her sake I presse for to aspire,
To preache of passions which I neuer prou'd;
What should yee doe who haue for haplesse hire
The lucklesse lott, to loue and not be lou'd.
Your plaints I thinke should pierce the starrie skies
And deaue the Gods with shrill and cairfull cries:

8
A complaint of his mistressis absence from Court

9
A dreame on his Mistris my Ladie Glammis

Whill as the silent shaddie night
Did with her courtens blacke
Ou'rcouer Rheas fruictfull face
And being colde and wacke
By sympathie with mortall braines
Our members make of leade
And stealing all our senses make
Ws lye a while as deade.
Then whill I was in this estate
The God with golden wings,
Who entring at the ports of horne
So manie monstres brings,
And changing into sundrie shapes
By strange and subtle slight,
Does make ws heare without our eares
And see but eyes or light.
This strange and subtle God, I saye,
Of late appear'd to me,
And by the hand my Mistres ledd,
Loe here she is quoth he,
Whose presence breeds as manie ioyes
As absence breeds thee woes,
Loe here the harbour of thy hart
Loe here thy onlie chose
Loe here she is who makes thee trade
The statelie forcked hill,
Whose pleasant grasse beginnes to fade
So trampled by thee still,
Loe here she is who makes thee drinke
The christall siluer spring
Of flying horse and riding foule
As ancient Poëts sing,
Loe here the subiect and the wings
Of thy high flying verse
That mountes aboue the flammie vaults
And to the heauen does pearse.
With this me thought she bowed her doune
And ioyned the rubies sine,
(That hides her iuorie rankes and smells
Of Nectar) vnto mine,
Sine with her soft and silken hands
About my necke she layes
A tablet and an Amethyst
And silent slipps her wayes.
Bot loe my minde so passion'd was
My hart so sturr'd withall
With ioye extreame, as made them soone
My senses to recall.
And looke how soone from slugglish sleepe
I perfectlie awooke,
Euen at the first (ô miracle)
Into my hand I tooke
These tokens hunge about my necke
(As I hade dream'd before)
What Deïtie (quoth I amaz'd)
For this shall I adore:
Sume God or Angell suirlie hath
This present to me brought,
For if on anie naturall dreames
Hade rauished bene my thought,
Then ather of the humours foure
The cheefe that did abounde,
By sympathie with brethren foure
Wherof was form'd this rounde,
And with the seasons of the yeare
Wolde vexed haue my braine,
If bloode domin'd with bloodie iarres
In spring tyme, and againe,
If cholere raign'd with rauening fires
In Sommers pearching heate,
If phlegme did with drowning floods
When Hyades holds there seate,
If melancholie earth and night
With heauie things and blacke,
When frozen Saturne rules with snowe
The place wolde suirlie take:
Or els the things I last hade thought
Hade done or wish'd to be
They hade although imperfectlie
In dreame appear'd to me,
And so by nature hade I dream'd
The thing I dream'd indeede,
For I confesse that Idee oft
My rauish'd minde dois feede,
Bot then how soone I hade awack'd
And Morpheus flowen awaye,
No token hade he left behinde
As now this wedd it laye:
Then counting it sume heauenlie gift
And sent me from aboue,
I cust me narrowlie to guesse
What coulde the meaning proue,
And so beganne both wp and doune
To tosse, to wiewe, to spie—
The tablet and the Amethyst
There secrets for to trie.
Thou Lycian Lord that Deïtie
Whome Delphos did adore,
Whose shining coache doe saphirs blewe
And rubies red decore,
The sacred Sisters Monarch greate,
The spirit that did inspire
With oracles the Sybills sage
Inflam'd with heauenlie fire,
O thou that mysteries can reueale
And future things foreseis
Assist my seeking out of this
And open cleare mine eyes.
The Amethyst in forme of hart
Doeth signifie the hart
And constant loue vnchangeable
That is vpon my part,
And as the colours of this stone
Are purple mix'd with graye,
So flames of loue my earthlie parts
Consumes me day by daye.
The secret vertues that are hidd
Into this pretious stone
Indues me with meete qualities
For seruing such a one.
For as this stone by secret force
Can soueraignlie remeade
These daizeled braines whome Bacchus strength
Ou'rcomes as they were deade,
And can preserue ws from the harme
Of the envenomed sting
Of poysoned cuppes, that to our tombe
Vntymelie does ws bring,
So shall my harte be still preserued
By vertue from aboue,
From staggering like a drunken man
Or wauering into loue:
Bot by this soueraigne antidote
Of her whome still I serue
In spite of all the poysoned lookes
Of Dames I shall not swerue.
And speciallie with courage bolde
This stone can furnish me
That with my conquering hand I may
Enforce my foes to flie,
For suire he can not worthie be
To be accompted deare
By anie Dame that in his brest
A womans hart dois beare.
And therfor for my part I wowe
If as the rumours be
Of iarrs and broyles, I happen in
Effect the same to see,
I shall not from the enemies sight
To anie part remoue,
Vnkithing once in honour of
My Mistres and my loue:
But onlie mot I conquered be
And onelie will I yeelde
To Cupids shott, whose firie darts
Resist coulde neuer sheelde.
And lastlie as this stone hath force
A hunter for to aide,
In end to catche his pray, the fruict
Of all his trauell made,
So as I am an prentise past
Into that Princelie game,
Whose hounds and horns through rockes and woodes
Makes Echo answer them,
I trust by vertue of this stone
To winne and holde the pray
That prayes on me, and is of all
My passion'd thoughts the stay.
Bot loe I long to turne me to
The tablet made of golde,
And all without and in the same
At length for to beholde.
Of purest golde the tablet made
Which by the fire is fin'd,
Her chastnes pure does represent
In bodie both and mind,
The crawling scores of ameling blacke
That on the golde are wrought,
The diuers passions represents
That walters in her thought.
One of the leaues on vtter side
A nacked man does beare,
Whome Phœbus rosts with hote reflexe
And stinging flees doe teare,
Yett sitting in the forrest greene,
As senceles of his harme,
By harmonie of violl sweete
He neuer irkes to charme
The rauish'd foules and beasts about,
Esteeming so there ioye,
As makes him quite for to forgett
His grieuous sore anoye.
This man not onlie represents
Her Siren voyce diuine,
Wherewith she makes the dullest eares
And hardest harts encline,
Bot as his dittie sayes, To please
The rest he suffers paine,
So she her Princesse serues of loue
Without respect of gaine.
The other on the vtter side
The Sunne hath shining bright
Into the midst, with stars about
Bot darckned by his light
And as that dittie sayes, As Sunne
Amongst the stars does shine,
So she her sexe surpasseth far
In vertues most diuine:
That Sunne of whome I sung before
Whose absence made me flie
Aboue the skies, ô Sunne to seeke
Her shaddowe into the.
Bot if into these former verse
I soar'd with Eagle wings,
Then Mistres thanke your selfe for them
That by your vertue sings.
Bot greatest comfort is to me
To spie the inward part,
Wheras ane hand does holde me thinke
My onelie Mistres hart,
Whill Cupide with his bended bowe
And golden arrowe aime,
To shoote his subtle firie shaft
For pearcing of the same:
Bot that her hand does holde her hart
I take it for to be,
That willinglie she letts her hart
Be shotte into for me.
The inward of the other leafe
It emptie does remaine,
Which if my guesse deceaue me not,
Is ordain'd to containe,
The art of sume Apelles fine,
The portraict of her face,
To giue vnto the workemanship
Of all the rest a grace:
For as the rest does represent
Her qualities most rare,
So shoulde her selfe, though viuelie, no,
Yett best it can be there.
And suire the Gods aboue they haue
Decreed as seemes to me,
That as the tablet and the stone
Both knitt together be
Euen by a string, the tablet like
To her, to me the stone,
So shall our loue whill Atrope cutt
The threed, be knitt in one.
Thus haue I redd my dreame ye see
With wise Apollos aide,
And if this be the verrie trueth
That I herin haue saide,
Then am I gladd of such a guesse,
Bot if I be deceau'd,
And in the opening of a dreame
Haue ather dream'd or reau'd,
Yett wellcume be a gladd deceate,
For as into my sleepe,
My dreame deceaued me, so my guesse,
In gladnes doth me keepe.
Now may ye see ô Titan mine,
No distance far of place,
Nor other thoughts can out of me
The thought of yow deface,
In absence are ye present still
And euer so in sight,
No wonder is, what Monarch may
Resist a womans might.

10
A Satire against Woemen

11
Song 1

12
Song 2

MISCELLANEA.

[13]
Ad hoc creaturæ destinatæ sunt, vt in eis glorificetur Creator

This sonnet is printed at the end of Lepanto:—

The azured vault, the christall circles bright
The gleaming firie torches poudered thair
The changing rounde, the shining beamie light
The sadd and bearded fires, the monsters faire
The prodiges appearing in the aire
The rearding thunders and the blustering windes
The foules in hewe, in shape and nature rare
The prettie notts that wing'd musiciens findes
In earthe the sauourie flowres, the metall'd mindes
The wholesome herbes, the hautie pleasant trees
The siluer streames, the beasts of sundrie kindes
The bounded roares, and fishes of the seas
All these for teaching man the Lord did frame
To honoure him whose glorie shines in them.

14
A sonnet on Mr Pa. Adamsons paraphrase of Job

In wandring wealth through burbling brookes and bewes
Of tripping troupes and flocks on fertill grounde
In cattell great of sundrie shapes and hewes
With houues all whole, or in a parted rounde
In fields fullfild with cornes by shearers bounde
In heapes of golde, and ritches in all wayes
As Job excelled all others might be founde
Of Monarchs greate or Princes in his dayes
So this translatour merites no lesse praise
For gifts of sprit, then he for gifts of geare
And God in grace hath giuen suche conterpaise
As his translation to the worke is peere
God did his gifts in him so wiselie mell
Whose heauenlie wealth Jobs earthlie wealth doth tell.

15
A sonnet on Ticho Brahe

16
A sonnet on Du Bartas

SONNET

[Since ye immortall sisters nine hes left]

Since ye immortall sisters nine hes left
All other countries lying farre or nere:
To follovv him vvho from them all you reft,
And novv hes causde your residence be here
VVho though a straunger yet he lovde so dere
This Realme and me, so as he spoilde his avvne,
And all the brookes & banks, & fountains clere
That be therein of you as he hath shavvne
in this his vvork: then let your breath be blavvne,
In recompence of this his vvilling minde
On me: that sine may vvith my pen bee dravvne
His praise: for though himselfe be not inclynde
Nor preaseth but to touch the Laurer tre:
Yet vvell he merits crovvnd thervvith to be.

17
A Sonnet on Mr W. Fullers translation of Petrarchs triumphe of loue

We find by proofe that into euerie age
In Phœbus art sume glistring starre did shine
Who worthie schollers to the Muses sage
Fullfil'd there countries with there workes diuine
So Homere was a sounding trumpett fine
Amongst the Greeks into his learned dayes
So Virgill was amongst the Romanes sine
A spirit sublimed, a piller of there praise
So loftie Petrarch his renoume did blaze
In toungue Italique in a sugred stile
And to the circled skies his name did raise
For he by poëms that he did compile
In triumphe ledde loue, chastnes, deathe, and fame
Bot thou triumphes ouer Petrarchs propre name.

18
An Epitaphe on Sr Philip Sidney

Thou mightie Mars the God of souldiours braue
And thou Minerue that does in witt excell
And thou Apollo that does knowledge haue
Of euerie art that from Parnassus fell
With all the Sisters that theron doe dwell
Lament for him who dewlie seru'd yow all
Whome in, yow wiselie all your arts did mell
Bewaile I saye his vnexspected fall
I neede not in remembrance for to call
His youth, his race, the houpe hade of him aye
Since that in him doeth cruell deathe appall
Both manhoode, witt, and learning euerie waye
Now in the bed of honour doeth he rest
And euermore of him shall liue the best.

Sonnet to the authoure.

We finde by prwif that into euerie aige
In phœbus art sum glistring starr did shyne,
Who, worthye Scollaris to the muses saige,
Fulfild thair countreis with thair works dewyne:
So Homer was a sounding trumpet fyne
Amangst the Greikis into his learned dayes;
So Virgill was amongst the Romans syne
A spreit sublimed, a pillar of thair prayse;
So loftye Petrark his renoun did blayse
In tounge Italique in a sugred style,
and to the circled skyes his name did rayse;
For he by poems that he did compyle
Led in Triumphe lowe, chaistnes, death, and fame;
bot thow triumphs ouer PETRARCHS propper name.

IN PHILIPPI SIDNÆI interitum, Illustrissimi Scotorum Regis Carmen.

Thou mighty Mars the Lord of Souldiers brave,
And thou, Minerve, that dois in wit excell,
And thou Apollo who dois knowledge have,
Of euery art that from Parnassus fell
With all your Sisters that thaireon do dwell,
Lament for him, who duelie serv'd you all
Whome in you wisely all your arts did mell,
Bewaile (I say) his inexspected fall,
I neede not in remembrance for to call
His race, his youth, the hope had of him ay
Since that in him doth cruell death appall
Both manhood, wit, and learning euery way,
Bot yet he doth in bed of honor rest,
And euermore of him shall liue the best.

19
An epitaphe on John Shaw

A vertuous life procures a happie deathe
And raires to loftie skies there noble name
Then blest is he who looseth thus his breathe
Though to his friends it be a griefe the same
This may be saide of thy immortall fame
Who here reposes closed in honours laire
For as of trewe and noble race thou came
So honestie and trueth was all thy caire
Thy kinn was honoured by thy vertues raire
Thy place of creditt did thy friends defend.
Then noble mindes aspire and doe not spaire
With such a life to conquise such an end
Bot here my inward greefe does make me staye
I minde with deeds, and not with wordes to paye.

20
Votum

Thy kindenes kithed in loosing life for me
My kindnesse on thy friends I vtter shall
My perrill kindled courage into the
Mine shall reuenge thy saikles famous fall
Thy constant seruice euer shall remaine
As freshe with me as if thou liued againe.

21
A Sonnet to Chanceller Maitlane:

Vigiliæ nostræ

If he who valliant euen within the space
That Titan six tymes twise his course does end
Did conquise olde Dame Rheas fruictfull face
And did his raigne from pole to pole extend
Hade thought him happier if that greeke hade penn'd
His worthie praise who traced the Troiane sacke
Then all his actes that forth his fame did send
Or his triumphant trophees might him make.
Then what am I who on Pegasian backe
Does flee amongs the Nymphes immortall faire
For thou ô Maitland does occasion take
Euen by my verse to spreade my name allwhere
For what in barbarous leide I blocke and frames
Thou learnedlie in Mineru's tongue proclames.

22
An epitaphe on Montgomrie

What drousie sleepe doth syle your eyes allace
Ye sacred brethren of Castalian band
And shall the prince of Poëts in our land
Goe thus to graue vnmurned in anie cace
No; whett your pens ye imps of heauenlie grace
And toone me wp your sweete resounding strings
And mounte him so on your immortall wings
That euer he may liue in euerie place
Remember on Montgomries flowand grace
His suggred stile his weightie words diuine
And how he made the sacred Sisters nine
There montaine quitte to followe on his trace
Though to his buriall was refused the bell
The bell of fame, shall aye his praises knell.

23
A Sonnet on the moneth of May

Haill mirthfull May the moneth full of ioye
Haill mother milde of hartsume herbes and floures
Haill fostrer faire of euerie sporte and toye
And of Auroras dewis and summer shoures
Haill friend to Phœbus and his glancing houres
Haill sister scheine to Nature breeding all
Who by the raine that cloudie skies out pouris
And Titans heate, reformes the faided fall
In woefull winter by the frostie gall
Of sadd Saturnus tirrar of the trees
And now by Natures might and thine they shall
Be florish'd faire with colours that agrees
Then lett ws all be gladd to honour the
As in olde tymes was euer wonte to be.

24
An ænigme of sleepe

Life is my selfe, I keepe the life of all
Without my helpe all liuing things they die
Small, greate, poore, ritche, obeye vnto my call
Feirce lions, foules, and whaills into the sie
With meete and drinke the hungrie I supplie
Deade drunken als I quicken newe againe
Dearer to Kings, nor crownes and sceptours hie
Vnto the riche, nor all there wealth and gaine
I am not nyse, the poore I'le not disdaine
Poore wretches more then Kings may me command
Where I cumme in all senses man refraine
Softer nor silke, and sadder nor the sand
I hurte, I helpe, I slaye, and cuire the same
Sleepe, and aduise, and panse well what I am.

25
A sonnet when the King was surprised by the Earle Bothwell

A faschious fight does force my freest minde
Betwixt two valliant champions I persaue
The one trewe courage rightlie is defin'd
The other wisedome temperat and graue
Thy selfe vndanted showe quoth courage braue
Bot wisedome wishes for a while to staye
Quoth courage rather die then liue a slaue
Quoth wisedome true, if so should be for aye
Bot wracke the not vpon thy selfe I praye
Since keeping wp thy selfe bot for a space
On others sine thy courage kithe thou may
Quoth courage, lingring is a great disgrace
Of all these straits the best is out of doubte
That courage wise, and wisedome should be stoute.

Another on the same

26
A Sonnet painting out the perfect Poët:

This sonnet is alreadie printed and prefixed to the treatise of Scottish poësie:

A ripe ingine, a quicke and walkened witt
With summaire raisons suddainlie applied
For euerie purpose vsing raisons fitt
With skillfulnes where learning may be spied
With pitthie wordes for to expresse yow by it
His full intention in his propre leide
The propertie wherof well hes he tryit
With memorie to keepe what he doth reide
With skillfulnes and figures which proceede
From rhetorick, with euerlasting fame
With others wondering preassing with all speede
For to attaine to merite such a name
All these into the perfect Poëte be
Gods grante I may obtaine the laurell tre.

27
A Sonnet to the reader prefixed to the treatise of the arte of poesie:

This sonnet is prefixed to the treatise of Scottish poësie and is alreadie printed:—

Since for your sake I wrytte vpon your art
Apollo, Pan, and ye ô Muses nine
And thou ô Mercure for to helpe thy part
I the emplore since thou by thy ingine
Nixt after Pan hade founde the whissell, sine
Thou did perfect that, which he bot espied
And after that made Argos for to tine
Who keeped Io, all his windowes by it
Concurre ye Gods I can not be denied
Since of your art of poësie I writte
that birds will learne by teaching it is tried
Sic docens discam, if ye helpe to dicte
Then reader see of nature thou haue part
Sine lackes thou noght, bot here to reade the art.

28

[O mightie Gods since I with pen and poëts art]

30
A Sonett: on Sr William Alexanders harshe vearses after the Inglishe fasone

Hould hould your hand, hould, mercy, mercy, spare
Those sacred nine that nurst you many a yeare
Full oft alas with comfort and with care
Wee bath'd you in Castalias fountaine cleare
Then on our winges aloft wee did you beare
And set you on our stately forked hill
Where you our heaunly harmonyes did heare
The rockes resoundinge with there Echoes still
Although your neighbours haue conspir'd to spill
That art which did the Laurel crowne obtaine
And borowing from the raven there ragged quill
Bewray there harsh hard trotting tumbling wayne
Such hamringe hard the mettalls hard require
Our songs ar fil'd with smoothly flowing fire

31
A Sonet against the could that was in January 1616

How cruely these catiffs doe conspire
What loathsome loue breeds such a baleful band,
Betwixt the cancred Kinge of Creta land
That melancholy ould and angry syre
And him who wont to quench debaite and ire
Amongst the Romains when his ports were clos'd
But now his double face is still dispos'd
With Saturns helpe to freeze vs at the fire
The earth or'e-couered with a sheete of snow
Refuses foode to foule to bird and beast
The chillinge cold letts every thing to grow
And surfets cattil with a starving feast
Curst bee that loue and may't continue short
That kills all creaturs and doth spoile our sport.

32

[Not orientall Indus cristall streames]

33
Vpon occasion of some great disorders in Scotland.

O cruell constellation that conspird
Before my birth my bale sa sharpe & saire
O miserable Mother that desir'd
The Midwife wise na paines on me to spaire
In vaine wase milke my meate a yeare & maire
In vaine therafter wase I speand alace
In vaine ye wise Pierides tooke a caire
To bring me brauely up in euerie cace
In vaine ye made me syne to take a place
Vpon that forked hill in honnour hie
In vaine descended I of Royal race
Which by succession made a King of me
All were but shawes Marcellus sure am I
Or Job whaise patience Sathan thinkes to try.

[In wandring wealth through bubbling brookes & bewes]

In wandring wealth through bubbling brookes & bewes
Of tripping troupes & flocks on fertill grounde
In cattell great of sindrie shapes & hewes
With hooffes all whole or in a parted rounde
In fields fulle filld with cornes by shearers bounde
In heapes of golde & ritches in all wayes
As Job excelld all others might be founde
Of Monarchs great or Princes in his dayes
So this translator merites no lesse praise
For gifts of sprite then he for gifts of geare
And God in grace hath giuen such conter[paise]
As his translation to the worke is peere
God did in him his gifts sa wyslie mell
Whos heauenly wealth Jobs earthlie wealth doeth tell.

34
An admonition to the Master poët to be warr of great bragging hereafter, lest he not onlie slander himselfe; bot also the whole professours of the art

35
Ex Lucano libro quinto

36
Song. the first verses that euer the King made.

FRAGMENTA

37
An epithalamion vpon the Marques of Huntlies mariage

Mercurius
I messager of Gods aboue am here vnto yow sent
To showe by proofe your tyme into there seruice well is spent
For they haue graunted your requeste and for a signe and seale
Since they them selfs amongs yow men doe no wayes haunte nor deale
They therfor haue directed here to honour all this feast
Faunes, Satyrs, Siluans, that approache there natures neare at least
And as for there conductour haue they sent the whisler Pan
Who thogh a God yett drawes he neare the nature of a man
With Naiades, Hamadryades, Nymphes of waters, woods, and wells
To iudge on euerie sporte wherat there brethren with yow mells
And as for me for my adieu, I drinke vnto yow here
The horne of Amalthæe, with lucke, with wealth and mirrie cheere.

Nymphes
We are sent by Gods aboue with these our brethren deare
Who are prepared for gloue, or ring, or anie sporte with speare
And we haue broght for victours pryse this yellow garland rounde
Wouen of our haire, with pearls therat, which we in fishes founde.
Then knights goe to, and make yow for it, we can no further saye
Essaye yow brethren, thogh I graunte, vnused at such a playe.

Agrestis
Good Sirs the maruelous cumming here of these goode neighbours mine
Hath moued me for to come and see, this iollie feast and fine
Such allridge people in such a sort to cumme to plenished grounde
But anie fraye and guided by a man was neuer founde
Good faith before was neuer harde the like of my conuoye
No since Deucaleons floode, I trowe ye call it the floode of Noë
Me thinke Sainct Marie gentles here makes for sume game and glee
Wa sume good Sir lenn me a speare, what racks essaye and see
The valliant actes, the workes of worthie fame
That bruite hath blowen abroade through euerie whair
Of King and Court of Scotlands noble name
There Martiall games, and pastymes braue and faire
Sume does your Court, to Arthures court compaire
Sume sayes to Charles the magnes it may be peere
This bruit at last made wandring knights repaire
From forrane vncouthe lands and trauell here
Fra they arriued they sent me soone to speare
If anie in your Court woulde them essaye
To runne at ring or proue sume games at warre
They three shall be defendours at the playe.
Sirs thogh this language seeme both hard and haske
Appardone new come strangers in a maske.

[Scholar.]
O Gods aboue how am I rauish'd now
A heauenlie Goddesse is come doune I trowe
Our senses to delude: what euer she be
She peerles is as all men will agree
And therfor Sirs here am I sent before
As he who might by language best decore,
As schollers can, this doubt whome to the faire
Should appartaine, whome of ye harde declaire
And whome into at equall strife doe fall
Wealth, beautie, noble race, and vertues all
Eache one of these makes her a suitour here
And she is cume vnto your Grace to speare
Whome to she should encline of all this rout
Among the rest Madame leaue me not out

Woman.1.
What meanes these kappit men? what can this be,
Is all this bussines that they make for me?

The verteous man.4.
The sacred state of marriage it was made
That two conioyn'd a holie life might leade

Zanie.5.
Good euen Sirs all, good faith I thinke it best
Yow quitte me this and take yow all the rest

L.G.1.
If that ye please Madame to make me yours
My rent and friends shall serue yow at all houres
God if my father.

(Sould.2)
What a kalland is this
Place sillie man Madame I will not misse
To ware for yow this hand and sworde of mine
A man of spirit his honour will not tine.

Scholler.3.
I can with pen your prayses due proclame
If that ye please accept of me Madame.

Vert.4.
Your vertues rare Madame I doe respect
I promise trueth if that may take effect.

Sould.1.
If anie here hath skill of fense come proue
Three markett strockes before my onlie loue.

L.G.2.
If that the morrowe Madame chance to be faire
Please see two speedie grayhounds rinn a haire.

Schol.3.
If that ye please Madame a song to heare
I'll sett the toone, and make the clareshoh cleare

Sould.2.
I whome no bloodie battells coulde effraye
Am now become a simple womans praye,
Bot what? no woman bot a Goddesse bright
No shame to blinded be with suche a light

L.G.3.
If friends or rent may serue my turne in this
I houpe to gett this Ladie full of blisse.

38
The beginning of his Mties jurnei to Denmarke; neuer ended.

True is that saying vs'd of olde amongs philosophes wise
That to eschue his destinie in no mans hands it lies
And thogh that they as ethnicks blinde on fortune laide the cause
And on the course and influence of starres and of there lawes.
Yett doe we Christians clearlie knowe that it is God alone
Who did before beginnings all, on wordlie things dispone
Euen he into his glorious and stedfast shining throne
Hath giuen to euerie thing a tyme when as it must be done
That thogh this statelie heauen we see, the seas, and solide grounde
Must perish, and must changed be into a suddaine stounde
Yett not a worde of his decrees shall euer fall in vaine
Bot must be at that instant done, he did for it ordaine
And so as I haue saide it does from Gods preordining flowe
The certaintie of destinies, and not of starres does growe
For they as simple creatures can no wayes guided be
Except by him that creatt them, then iudge how like is he
That can not stande nor rule him selfe, to guide so manie things
Turne famous kingdomes wpside doune, make and vnmake there Kings
Thus Ethnicks fonde thogh wordlie wise, not knowing anie God
Did first inuent that fortune and the starres did rule the rod
For like a blindman lacking light they wandered here and there
By guesse with groaping, stumbling oft, bot knewe not how nor where
And since sume Christians on there stepps Cimmerians hath no shame
To take wpon them to debaite and putt in proofe the same.
O soft and faire, redounding Muse returne into thy waye
Thou chooses here to large a fielde, and to to far astraye
And worse then that, thou are to weake a Momus to be bolde
So manie learned men to impugne that this coniecture holde.
Then to returne to destinies, how none can them eschue
I may affirme that in my selfe, I proued it to be true
For I as being a King by birth, it seam'd my lott was made
thaire to resyde quhaire god my charge & burthen on me laide
And lacking parents, brethren, bairns, or anie neare of kinn
Incace of death, or absence to supplie my place therin
And cheeflie in so kitle a land, where few remember can
For to haue seene gouerning there a King that was a man
yett thogh through these occasions all, it was my setled minde
That I shoulde neuer on vncouthe coastes a harberie seeke to finde:

39
A pairt of du Bartas first day

This largeness and this breadth so long, / this highnes so profounde,
This bounded infinite, the masse / confused of all this rounde;
This Chaos lourde, I saye, which in / it selfe suche wproares wroght,
And sawe it in one moment borne / in nothing made of noght,
The brooddie bodie was wherof / the essence pure diuine,
And foure contending brethren ought / there birth to borrowe sine,
Now as to these foure elements, / these twinne sonnes ment by here,
Towitt, the subtle aire, the fire, / the earthe, and waters cleere,
Composed they are not, bot of them / is all composed and made,
That can into our senses fall, / or may be thought or saide:
Now if there qualities do poure / there whole effects within
Eache part of euerie bodie mixed, / and so to worke beginne;
Or whether that on euerie part / there beings they confounde
And so of beings double twaine / one bodie doe compounde;
Euen as within the bottome deepe / of christall glasses cleene,
The wine with the Acheloian sucke / for to be mix'd is seene:
Or euen as meate which wholesome is / and subtle liquour fine
Doe mixe them selfs within ws for / to change in chilus sine.
This by experience may we see / into the stick that burnes,
Vnto the heauen his natiue house / his fire full swift returnes,
His aire it flies in wanished smocke, / his earth in cendres falls,
His water crackes into his knotts, / and as for succour calls.
Like warre dothe holde our bod' in peace, / whose earth her fleshe it bene,
Who does into her vitall spirits / her fire and aire contene,
Her water in her humours lies: / yet thou can see no part
In all our humaine bodie, where / eache one by naturall art
Hath not his mightie vertues mix'd, / allthogh we plainlie see
That ather one or other of them / the cheefe commander be.
Into the masse of seething bloode / this clayie dregg and thicke,
Is blacke melancholie which sadd / does to the bottome sticke,
Composed of earthlie substance grosse; / in bloode the aire abides,
Which pure into the mids doe swimme; / the humour in the sides
It is the colde and wattrie phlegme; / this foame that light does flote
And holds the selfe aloft, it is / the burning cholere hote.
I meane not that eache element / into his hands retaines
The sceptre of one bodie aye, / his tyme about he raignes
The subiect making for to stoupe / vnto his law and will,
And als oft as his King is changed, / he changeth nature still:
Euen as without respect of wealth, / of bloode or noble race,
Eache worthie citizen commandes / a certaine tyme and space,
In citties Democratick free, / that suddainlie appeare,
Through changing of there magistrate / a changing face to beare:
For people lightlie agitate / with diuers humours strange,
Chameleon like with manners of / there rulers doe they change,
Euen so the element that in / the wine as cheefe doeth raigne,
Whiles makes it drie, whiles wacke, / whiles hoate and colde againe
By there commixtions imperfect / or perfect in it plac'd
Enforcing it to change as well / of vertue as of taste:
So as by processe of the tyme / the veriusse bitter greene,
Sweete winne becummes, then stronger wine, / sine winaigre it bene.
Now euen as when a Prince or King / does ouer ws so commande,
As vnderneath the yoake of law / he gars his greatnes stande;
He rules without suspicion, and / the common wealth enioyes
Most happilie a quiet state / without tyrannique toyes:
Bot if that cruell Tyranne like / he neuer satiate be,
With his good subiects saickles bloode, / and if his sworde doe flie
To bloodie sharpe the scabert still, / his rage it will not spare
In end to turne his ciuill land / in deserts wilde and bare.
The like falls out when as one of / the elements empires,
Ouer his three fellowes modestlie, / and not there wracke requires;
And when as a proportion / affeirand ioynes we see
The subiect humours with the cheefe, / though they vnequall be:
The bod' in being then abides / and als it doth retaine,
The speciall draughts of all his forme / which outwardlie remaine.
Bot if that like vnto that King / who barb'rous did desire
That all the citizens of his / most mightie great empire,
Boore bot one craige that by that meanes / (ô crueltie) he might;
By one greate blowe bereaue the liues / of all the Romans quitt.

40
The beginning of Mr du Bartas Eden