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317
MICHAEL PHETTIPLACE,
William Phettiplace, and Richard Wiffing,
Gentlemen, and Souldiers under
Captaine Smiths Command:
In his deserved honor for
his Worke, and worth.
WHy may not we in this Worke have our Mite,
That had our share in each black day and night,
When thou Virginia foild'st, yet kept'st unstaind;
And held'st the King of Paspeheh enchaind.
Thou all alone this Salvage sterne didst take.
Pamunkes king wee saw thee captive make.
Among seaven hundred of his stoutest men,
To murther thee and us resolved; when
Fast by the hand thou ledst this Salvage grim,
Thy Pistoll at his breast to governe him:
Which did infuse such awe in all the rest
(Sith their drad Soveraigne thou had'st so distrest)
That thou and wee (poore sixteene) safe retir'd
Unto our helplesse ships. Thou (thus admir'd)
Didst make proud Powhatan, his subjects send
To James his Towne, thy censure to attend:
And all Virginia's Lords, and pettie Kings,
Aw'd by thy vertue, crouch, and Presents brings
To gaine thy grace; so dreaded thou hast beene:
And yet a heart more milde is seldome seene;
So, making Valour Vertue, really;
Who hast nought in thee counterfet, or slie;
|| If in the sleight bee not the truest art,
That makes men famoused for faire desert.
Who saith of thee, this savors of vaine-glorie,
Mistakes both thee and us, and this true storie.
If it bee ill in Thee, so well to doe;
Then, is it ill in Us, to praise thee too.
But, if the first bee well done; it is well,
To say it doth (if so it doth) excell!
Praise is the guerdon of each deere desert,
Making the praised act the praised part
With more alacritie: Honours Spurre is Praise;
Without which, it (regardlesse) soone decaies.
And for this paines of thine wee praise thee rather,
That future Times may know who was the father
Of this rare Worke (New England) which may bring
Praise to thy God, and profit to thy King.
That had our share in each black day and night,
When thou Virginia foild'st, yet kept'st unstaind;
And held'st the King of Paspeheh enchaind.
Thou all alone this Salvage sterne didst take.
Pamunkes king wee saw thee captive make.
Among seaven hundred of his stoutest men,
To murther thee and us resolved; when
Fast by the hand thou ledst this Salvage grim,
Thy Pistoll at his breast to governe him:
Which did infuse such awe in all the rest
(Sith their drad Soveraigne thou had'st so distrest)
That thou and wee (poore sixteene) safe retir'd
Unto our helplesse ships. Thou (thus admir'd)
Didst make proud Powhatan, his subjects send
To James his Towne, thy censure to attend:
And all Virginia's Lords, and pettie Kings,
Aw'd by thy vertue, crouch, and Presents brings
To gaine thy grace; so dreaded thou hast beene:
And yet a heart more milde is seldome seene;
So, making Valour Vertue, really;
Who hast nought in thee counterfet, or slie;
|| If in the sleight bee not the truest art,
That makes men famoused for faire desert.
Who saith of thee, this savors of vaine-glorie,
Mistakes both thee and us, and this true storie.
If it bee ill in Thee, so well to doe;
Then, is it ill in Us, to praise thee too.
318
To say it doth (if so it doth) excell!
Praise is the guerdon of each deere desert,
Making the praised act the praised part
With more alacritie: Honours Spurre is Praise;
Without which, it (regardlesse) soone decaies.
And for this paines of thine wee praise thee rather,
That future Times may know who was the father
Of this rare Worke (New England) which may bring
Praise to thy God, and profit to thy King.
[_]
2. See the Biographical Directory (for Michael and William Phettiplace, s.v. "Fettiplace").
The verse was reprinted in the Generall Historie, 96.
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