Elizabetha triumphans Conteyning the damned practizes, that the diuelish Popes have used euer sithence her Highnesse first comming to the Crowne, by mouing her wicked and traiterous subiects to rebellion and conspiracies ... With a declaration of the manner how her Excellency was entertained at Tilbery in Essex: and of the ouerthrow had against the Spanish fleete: briefly, truly, and effectually set foorth, declared, and handled by I. A. [i.e. James Aske] |
 | Elizabetha triumphans. |
 | Elizabetha triumphans |  |
Elizabetha triumphans.
[E Elizabeth sole rectrix of this Land]
E Elizabeth sole rectrix of this Land,
L Long time with thee hath raigned happy Peace:
I In all thy deedes assisteth Pallas hand,
Z Zenobia-like thy Fame shall neuer cease.
A All other Soyles throughout the wondrous world
B Behold and see thy sweete prosperitie:
E Euen by thy force of late they soone were thrald,
T That falsly bragged of their dietie.
H Honor, with Peace, Prosperitie, and Fame
A Accord with thee, and highly praise thy name.
L Long time with thee hath raigned happy Peace:
I In all thy deedes assisteth Pallas hand,
Z Zenobia-like thy Fame shall neuer cease.
A All other Soyles throughout the wondrous world
B Behold and see thy sweete prosperitie:
E Euen by thy force of late they soone were thrald,
T That falsly bragged of their dietie.
H Honor, with Peace, Prosperitie, and Fame
A Accord with thee, and highly praise thy name.
T Triumph (O English people) leap for ioy,
R Redouble oft the lawding song ye sing,
I In prayse of her who banisheth Anoy.
V Vnto Iehouahs alters offerings bring,
M Mir, Franckinscence, with euery sweetest flower
P Play on your Timbrels, let your Cornets sound.
H Heave vp your hands to him that giueth power
A And did of late your threatning foes confound.
N No Traytors be but honor still her name,
S Sithence for her sake Iehouah wrought the same.
R Redouble oft the lawding song ye sing,
I In prayse of her who banisheth Anoy.
V Vnto Iehouahs alters offerings bring,
M Mir, Franckinscence, with euery sweetest flower
P Play on your Timbrels, let your Cornets sound.
H Heave vp your hands to him that giueth power
A And did of late your threatning foes confound.
N No Traytors be but honor still her name,
S Sithence for her sake Iehouah wrought the same.
1
ELIZABETHA triumphans..
I Write not of the labours (passing strange,)
Which Ioves base sonne with wondrous fame atchiu'd:
Ne of the actes, the neuer dying actes,
That English Kings have done long time agoe.
But all my drift is to declare the deedes,
The famous deedes that this our sacred Queene
Performed hath, sithence Sol hath pass'd the Signes
Iust thirtie times, with those his shining lights.
Then mightie Ioue, who guides each moving thing,
Direct my Muse to that thy flowing streame,
Whence flowe amaine both sweete and thundring words,
That with those words she may set downe both peace,
And warlike déedes this maiden Quéene hath done.
The royall state of famous English soile,
(Right happy made by this their noble Quéene,)
Declares the vertues of a heavenly mind,
Adorn'd with all the gifts which Nature can
Bestowe, on any of her déerest Nimphes,
So deare a darling is Elizabeth,
Renowned Queene of this renowned land,
Renowned land, because a fruitfull soile:
Renowned land through people of the same:
And thrise renown'd by this her Uirgin Queene,
A maiden Queene, and yet of courage stout,
Through Wisedome, rare, for Learning, passing all.
Her mother toong is not her only speach,
For Spanish, Greeke, Italian, and French,
With Romans toong, she understands and speakes,
Ne are these all, though more then may be found
In female sex, except her stately selfe:
For other Vertues are (no lesse of force)
Within her royall brest and outward parts.
Her comely stature doth not Beautie want,
Ne Beautie is from seemely favour barr'd,
But both of them do (in the hyest degree,
Conioyn'd together) beautefie her port.
Among the rest, this must not be forgot,
(No lesse praise-worthy then the other are,)
Which is. Although she be by Nature weake,
Because her sex no otherwise can be:
Yet wants she not the courage of her Sire,
Whose valour wanne this Island great renowne,
So great renowne as neuer Island had.
Which high renowne, as yet hath not bin lost,
But farre inlarg'd through wonders passing strange,
Which have bin done next under God of heauen,
By rectrix of these famous Westerne parts.
Which Ioves base sonne with wondrous fame atchiu'd:
Ne of the actes, the neuer dying actes,
That English Kings have done long time agoe.
But all my drift is to declare the deedes,
The famous deedes that this our sacred Queene
Performed hath, sithence Sol hath pass'd the Signes
Iust thirtie times, with those his shining lights.
Then mightie Ioue, who guides each moving thing,
Direct my Muse to that thy flowing streame,
Whence flowe amaine both sweete and thundring words,
That with those words she may set downe both peace,
And warlike déedes this maiden Quéene hath done.
The royall state of famous English soile,
(Right happy made by this their noble Quéene,)
Declares the vertues of a heavenly mind,
Adorn'd with all the gifts which Nature can
Bestowe, on any of her déerest Nimphes,
So deare a darling is Elizabeth,
Renowned Queene of this renowned land,
Renowned land, because a fruitfull soile:
Renowned land through people of the same:
And thrise renown'd by this her Uirgin Queene,
A maiden Queene, and yet of courage stout,
Through Wisedome, rare, for Learning, passing all.
Her mother toong is not her only speach,
For Spanish, Greeke, Italian, and French,
With Romans toong, she understands and speakes,
Ne are these all, though more then may be found
2
For other Vertues are (no lesse of force)
Within her royall brest and outward parts.
Her comely stature doth not Beautie want,
Ne Beautie is from seemely favour barr'd,
But both of them do (in the hyest degree,
Conioyn'd together) beautefie her port.
Among the rest, this must not be forgot,
(No lesse praise-worthy then the other are,)
Which is. Although she be by Nature weake,
Because her sex no otherwise can be:
Yet wants she not the courage of her Sire,
Whose valour wanne this Island great renowne,
So great renowne as neuer Island had.
Which high renowne, as yet hath not bin lost,
But farre inlarg'd through wonders passing strange,
Which have bin done next under God of heauen,
By rectrix of these famous Westerne parts.
FOr first of all (which is not least in force)
When by the space of sixe whole winter times,
The glittering Starres of heauen did nere appeare,
Ne Luna bright, for dimme and duskie cloudes
Could shew her lights from out the Firmament:
When Darkenes ruled Queene of all the earth,
Then did a Wolfe (the Pope, a rauenous Wolfe)
By stealth breake in among a flock of Sheepe,
And there did slay, and having slaine, did glut
His greedie paunch, with their most guiltlesse bloud.
But when Auror' had sent abroade her lights,
And Phebus bright begun to spread his beames,
This Wolfe then feared longer there to stay,
But theeuishly did haste unto his denne.
This ravening Wolfe, this foule deceiptfull Pope,
He hates the light because his deedes are nought.
But England ioy, O England thankefull be,
The Night is gone, and now the Day appeares:
The God of heaven, who knoweth every thought,
And ruleth them by his eternall power:
The God of Gods, who is the morning Starre,
Which giueth light in every creatures heart,
That God (I say) did see his wickednesse,
And seeing, would not let it longer last,
For by the Sunne, Elizabeth our Queene,
Whose vertues shine as bright as Sol it selfe,
By that same Sunne the Wolfe is put to flight,
And by that Sunne Gods flocke doth liue in rest.
From that bright Sunne, Religion hath her beames,
Which lightens those who did in darkenesse sit:
By that same Sunne, Sinceritie is plast,
Where heeretofore false Error ruled Lord,
Through that same Sunne Gods word is truly preacht,
And by that Sunne all Popish reliques burnt.
When by the space of sixe whole winter times,
The glittering Starres of heauen did nere appeare,
Ne Luna bright, for dimme and duskie cloudes
Could shew her lights from out the Firmament:
When Darkenes ruled Queene of all the earth,
Then did a Wolfe (the Pope, a rauenous Wolfe)
By stealth breake in among a flock of Sheepe,
And there did slay, and having slaine, did glut
His greedie paunch, with their most guiltlesse bloud.
But when Auror' had sent abroade her lights,
And Phebus bright begun to spread his beames,
This Wolfe then feared longer there to stay,
But theeuishly did haste unto his denne.
This ravening Wolfe, this foule deceiptfull Pope,
He hates the light because his deedes are nought.
3
The Night is gone, and now the Day appeares:
The God of heaven, who knoweth every thought,
And ruleth them by his eternall power:
The God of Gods, who is the morning Starre,
Which giueth light in every creatures heart,
That God (I say) did see his wickednesse,
And seeing, would not let it longer last,
For by the Sunne, Elizabeth our Queene,
Whose vertues shine as bright as Sol it selfe,
By that same Sunne the Wolfe is put to flight,
And by that Sunne Gods flocke doth liue in rest.
From that bright Sunne, Religion hath her beames,
Which lightens those who did in darkenesse sit:
By that same Sunne, Sinceritie is plast,
Where heeretofore false Error ruled Lord,
Through that same Sunne Gods word is truly preacht,
And by that Sunne all Popish reliques burnt.
WHich happy change did cause the Pope to rage,
And put him sore unto his shifting tricks,
He studies now how to renue againe
His credit crackt through this so foule a foile,
He beates his braines, he craves his Counsels aide,
And yet in all he strives against the streame,
But that his father Sathan (King of Hell)
His deerest friend, and wisest counseller,
Will have him try, and see to what euent
His fond devises will by practise come.
Wherefore the Pope, much like a crauin curre,
Who quarrell will with euery passenger,
But having had a knock for that his fault,
He seekes unto his neighbour curres for aide,
Them once in fight (though speeding too too bad)
H'il leaue alone, and standing thence aloofe,
Will ever barke, but never come to bite.
So doth the Pope, for chased by our Queene,
Whose valiant heart can not abide his brags,
From this her land, unto his seate at Rome.
He sitting there, doth barke, and barking sends
In all post haste unto the land of Fraunce,
(Because he thinks the French-men soonest will
Be drawne to thinke that euery tale is true,)
With this Ambassage to the young french King.
Salute King Frauncis, second of that name,
And let him wit, that by the contract made
Twixt him and Mary Queene of Scottish land,
His rightfull heire vnto the English Crowne.
And furthermore, we will he understand,
That she who now by force vsurps the same,
Can lay no claime vnto that land by right.
Which forged tale did please the King so well,
Because he was of young and tender yeares,
And therewithall the counsell of the Guise,
His faithlesse friend, which prickt him forward still,
Did so prevaile, as that the french King sent
To Scotland diuers forces day by day.
Where landed, they do sore torment the Scots,
They rule like Kings, who do but aske and have,
They waste their countrey, lavish out their goods,
Their houses burne, their lives bereave with sword.
But when our Quéene (a full of merrie Queene,)
Had knowledge of their treason full of baine,
She readie made within a little space,
A companie of brave and valiant men.
The Duke of Norfolke was their generall,
Who did remaine at famous Barwick towne:
And worthie Gray of Wilton noble Lord,
Lieutenant was. He into Scotland went,
And with his power did on the French-men set,
Where worthy Gray did so their forces quaile,
As wearie soone they weare of handie blowes.
There did the French (who so triumph'd before)
Like scatterd sheepe, for feare runne fast away.
There might you see great streames of French-mens blood,
And heapes of bodies, which by us were slaine.
There men lament for losse of faithfull friends,
And women houle, who there were widowes made.
The children weepe, to see their mothers sad:
And servants grieve because the children crie.
These with their teares a running riuer make:
These with their sighes do fill the ayre with smoake.
These with their noyse do cause an Eccho sound,
And make the Earth to quake and shake therewith.
Our gracious Quéene, who never thurst for blood,
(When thus the French-men once had felt her force)
Did use a meane which nearer was to Peace.
For why': she sent Sir William Cicill Knight,
Her Maiesties chiefe Secretarie then:
But now by his desarts and worthie deedes,
Lord Treasorer of all this worthie land,
Accompanied with wise and learned men,
To parle with the French-men which were there.
Whose wisedome did therein so much preuaile,
As at that time concluded was a Peace:
Whereby the warres of late fire-hote did end,
And nought at all redoun'd to Fraunce but shame.
This enterprise so peaceably perform'd,
In what I pray now doth the Pope triumph?
His hope quite frustrate soone agaynst his will
Makes him neglect to be at morning Masse.
He raues as mad, he curseth Bookes and Beades,
All Pater-nosters quite are layd aside:
His Images do want their wonted due
Of honor now, because so ill he sped.
Not any Pardons are dispers'd abroade,
Nor merie lookes on any of his Monkes:
But dolefully (or rather doultishly)
He keepes his Chamber, free from any mirth.
Thus lives the Pope still mourning for his losse:
Thus mournes the Pope for want of better lucke:
Thus want of luck doth make him wish to dye:
Thus with his wish his death is come at last.
And put him sore unto his shifting tricks,
He studies now how to renue againe
His credit crackt through this so foule a foile,
He beates his braines, he craves his Counsels aide,
And yet in all he strives against the streame,
But that his father Sathan (King of Hell)
His deerest friend, and wisest counseller,
Will have him try, and see to what euent
His fond devises will by practise come.
Wherefore the Pope, much like a crauin curre,
Who quarrell will with euery passenger,
But having had a knock for that his fault,
He seekes unto his neighbour curres for aide,
Them once in fight (though speeding too too bad)
H'il leaue alone, and standing thence aloofe,
4
So doth the Pope, for chased by our Queene,
Whose valiant heart can not abide his brags,
From this her land, unto his seate at Rome.
He sitting there, doth barke, and barking sends
In all post haste unto the land of Fraunce,
(Because he thinks the French-men soonest will
Be drawne to thinke that euery tale is true,)
With this Ambassage to the young french King.
Salute King Frauncis, second of that name,
And let him wit, that by the contract made
Twixt him and Mary Queene of Scottish land,
His rightfull heire vnto the English Crowne.
And furthermore, we will he understand,
That she who now by force vsurps the same,
Can lay no claime vnto that land by right.
Which forged tale did please the King so well,
Because he was of young and tender yeares,
And therewithall the counsell of the Guise,
His faithlesse friend, which prickt him forward still,
Did so prevaile, as that the french King sent
To Scotland diuers forces day by day.
Where landed, they do sore torment the Scots,
They rule like Kings, who do but aske and have,
They waste their countrey, lavish out their goods,
Their houses burne, their lives bereave with sword.
But when our Quéene (a full of merrie Queene,)
Had knowledge of their treason full of baine,
She readie made within a little space,
A companie of brave and valiant men.
The Duke of Norfolke was their generall,
Who did remaine at famous Barwick towne:
And worthie Gray of Wilton noble Lord,
Lieutenant was. He into Scotland went,
And with his power did on the French-men set,
Where worthy Gray did so their forces quaile,
5
There did the French (who so triumph'd before)
Like scatterd sheepe, for feare runne fast away.
There might you see great streames of French-mens blood,
And heapes of bodies, which by us were slaine.
There men lament for losse of faithfull friends,
And women houle, who there were widowes made.
The children weepe, to see their mothers sad:
And servants grieve because the children crie.
These with their teares a running riuer make:
These with their sighes do fill the ayre with smoake.
These with their noyse do cause an Eccho sound,
And make the Earth to quake and shake therewith.
Our gracious Quéene, who never thurst for blood,
(When thus the French-men once had felt her force)
Did use a meane which nearer was to Peace.
For why': she sent Sir William Cicill Knight,
Her Maiesties chiefe Secretarie then:
But now by his desarts and worthie deedes,
Lord Treasorer of all this worthie land,
Accompanied with wise and learned men,
To parle with the French-men which were there.
Whose wisedome did therein so much preuaile,
As at that time concluded was a Peace:
Whereby the warres of late fire-hote did end,
And nought at all redoun'd to Fraunce but shame.
This enterprise so peaceably perform'd,
In what I pray now doth the Pope triumph?
His hope quite frustrate soone agaynst his will
Makes him neglect to be at morning Masse.
He raues as mad, he curseth Bookes and Beades,
All Pater-nosters quite are layd aside:
His Images do want their wonted due
Of honor now, because so ill he sped.
Not any Pardons are dispers'd abroade,
Nor merie lookes on any of his Monkes:
6
He keepes his Chamber, free from any mirth.
Thus lives the Pope still mourning for his losse:
Thus mournes the Pope for want of better lucke:
Thus want of luck doth make him wish to dye:
Thus with his wish his death is come at last.
HE being dead, and for his soule a Masse
Next morning sung within his Chappell Church,
His Popedomship with Myter, Crowns & Crosse,
Are all bestow'd on Pius quintus grace.
A man (I wish) not lesse with enuie frought,
(Although the daies wherein he liu'd were fewe)
Then was the man, which last before him raign'd.
For when he was installed in his seate,
He straight was troubled with the Popish pippe:
He cannot quench his thirst he is so drie:
But iudge for what': For English Martyrs blood.
He seekes thy bane, O England, thine he seekes:
He starues because h'is barred from thy flock,
(This English flock, Christs deare and sacred flock)
Where are his sheepe within a strong kept hold,
Where feede his sheepe of his most heauenly word,
Of that same Manna which did fall from heauen.
Where sheepheards are, who carefully them keepe,
As nere a Wolfe can hurt the poorest sheepe:
Though this new Pope doth now reuiue againe
Of Trent the Counsell, to that damned end
By Legats sent to diuers forraigne Coasts.
Fiue Cardinalls with many Bishops are
To go about this worke, by Pius chos'de
To this intent, least that the glorious light
Which shines most bright among us English-men:
Least that same light, Christ with his sacred word
Should cleerely shine throughout his placed globe.
Whereby the Pope withall his damned deedes,
His paynted Gods, his senceles stocks and stones
Should be forlorn'd, foreseene of euery one,
To let this good, and further that too bad.
These Cattel were from Rome dispers'd abroad:
But God of heauen, agaynst whose holy will
The Pope did call this Counsell wickedly:
That God did laugh to scorne his fond deuise,
And made it frustrate, and of none effect.
His Legats sent, are home agayne return'd
(To Rome I meane) but with as bad successe,
As had the French-men in their former deede.
Next morning sung within his Chappell Church,
His Popedomship with Myter, Crowns & Crosse,
Are all bestow'd on Pius quintus grace.
A man (I wish) not lesse with enuie frought,
(Although the daies wherein he liu'd were fewe)
Then was the man, which last before him raign'd.
For when he was installed in his seate,
He straight was troubled with the Popish pippe:
He cannot quench his thirst he is so drie:
But iudge for what': For English Martyrs blood.
He seekes thy bane, O England, thine he seekes:
He starues because h'is barred from thy flock,
(This English flock, Christs deare and sacred flock)
Where are his sheepe within a strong kept hold,
Where feede his sheepe of his most heauenly word,
Of that same Manna which did fall from heauen.
Where sheepheards are, who carefully them keepe,
As nere a Wolfe can hurt the poorest sheepe:
Though this new Pope doth now reuiue againe
Of Trent the Counsell, to that damned end
By Legats sent to diuers forraigne Coasts.
Fiue Cardinalls with many Bishops are
To go about this worke, by Pius chos'de
To this intent, least that the glorious light
Which shines most bright among us English-men:
Least that same light, Christ with his sacred word
Should cleerely shine throughout his placed globe.
7
His paynted Gods, his senceles stocks and stones
Should be forlorn'd, foreseene of euery one,
To let this good, and further that too bad.
These Cattel were from Rome dispers'd abroad:
But God of heauen, agaynst whose holy will
The Pope did call this Counsell wickedly:
That God did laugh to scorne his fond deuise,
And made it frustrate, and of none effect.
His Legats sent, are home agayne return'd
(To Rome I meane) but with as bad successe,
As had the French-men in their former deede.
THe Queen of Scots (who late was Quéen of France)
Consenting to the death of Iames the King
Of Scotland late, her husband too too true:
Was faine to flie for that unnaturall deede
From that her natiue and long-holden land.
From whence escap'd, she tooke her passage thence
To this our land (to happie English land)
Where happely she was descri'd by chaunce,
But basely clad and with a simple traine:
And till the cause of this her landing here
Was truely knowne, she closely here was kept.
Yet had she all things for a Princesse meete,
For where of late she had no trayne at all,
But like a simple gentell did remayne:
Now hath she men with women at her call,
To runne, to ride, to do her any worke;
Now hath she sommes, great sommes of English quoyne,
To serve her turne at euery needfull time.
And yet for all these too too good deedes done
To her so bad, quite banish'd from all good.
By this Popes meane, she doth perswade the Duke
Of Norfolke to rebell agaynst his Queene.
He drawne thereto, doth go about to bring
Great forraigne powers unto his natiue soyle:
He seekes the death of his dread Soueraigne,
Whereby he may enioy her royall seate.
But (thankes to God) in steade of that he had
A Scaffold made, whereon he lost his head.
And now for this the Popes so bad successe,
He perished as had done all the rest.
Consenting to the death of Iames the King
Of Scotland late, her husband too too true:
Was faine to flie for that unnaturall deede
From that her natiue and long-holden land.
From whence escap'd, she tooke her passage thence
To this our land (to happie English land)
Where happely she was descri'd by chaunce,
But basely clad and with a simple traine:
And till the cause of this her landing here
Was truely knowne, she closely here was kept.
Yet had she all things for a Princesse meete,
For where of late she had no trayne at all,
But like a simple gentell did remayne:
Now hath she men with women at her call,
To runne, to ride, to do her any worke;
Now hath she sommes, great sommes of English quoyne,
To serve her turne at euery needfull time.
And yet for all these too too good deedes done
To her so bad, quite banish'd from all good.
By this Popes meane, she doth perswade the Duke
Of Norfolke to rebell agaynst his Queene.
8
Great forraigne powers unto his natiue soyle:
He seekes the death of his dread Soueraigne,
Whereby he may enioy her royall seate.
But (thankes to God) in steade of that he had
A Scaffold made, whereon he lost his head.
And now for this the Popes so bad successe,
He perished as had done all the rest.
ANd for although these Pecocks tayles were puld:
Yet doth succeede a bird of that same brood,
Who will not let to iet and braue it out.
He will not move the King of Fraunce or Spayne
With forraigne forces, to inuade this land:
But butcher-like he sends abroad his Bulles,
To grase within a straungers fertill land.
This Pope affirmes: The Queene of English soyle
Hath lost the right of this her lawfull seate:
And by his power he will absolue from oath
Her Subiects, who agaynst her will rebell.
This this the Pope, and thus he stirres his stumps:
He thirsts for blood, and blood h'de haue to drinke,
He will not send unto his neighbour coasts,
For to reuiue a Counsell once againe:
But traytor-like he will his Pardons give
To Rebells, rising in their native soyle.
This Pope doth send Magitians to her land
To seeke her death, by that their deuillish arte:
Yea which is more, h'd cause a deuillish doult
Of Fraunce, a Doctor (Parry I do meane)
With smiling face for to discharge a Dagge
At her kind heart, who saued had his life.
See here the fruite of kindnes ill bestow'd:
See here a wight, worse then the doggest beasts
Ungratefull wretch, to Nature farre unlike:
For Nature wil's we loue for loue should giue:
But thou (alas) by Nature neuer taught,
Didst seeke the death of this thy happie Queene.
Whose sacred life did save thy dying death,
O damned villaine fostred by a Wolfe,
Borne of a Tiger, nursed by a Beare.
Nay worse then these, did nourish this, foule impe:
For Belzabub by blacke Proserpina,
Could ne're haue had a deuill halfe so bad.
But what ensued thereof: but this of right:
The God of heaven, who searcheth every heart,
And hath regard unto the innocent,
Reueil'd their thoughts, their treasons did display,
Before they were by them in practise put,
And they who sought to spill her guiltles blood,
Did lose their blood, and Parry gain'd a rope.
These were the deedes of Pius quintus Pope,
Wherein the deuill had no little share:
But tooke great paynes, and for his paynes he had
The Pope himselfe, with all his Instruments.
Yet doth succeede a bird of that same brood,
Who will not let to iet and braue it out.
He will not move the King of Fraunce or Spayne
With forraigne forces, to inuade this land:
But butcher-like he sends abroad his Bulles,
To grase within a straungers fertill land.
This Pope affirmes: The Queene of English soyle
Hath lost the right of this her lawfull seate:
And by his power he will absolue from oath
Her Subiects, who agaynst her will rebell.
This this the Pope, and thus he stirres his stumps:
He thirsts for blood, and blood h'de haue to drinke,
He will not send unto his neighbour coasts,
For to reuiue a Counsell once againe:
But traytor-like he will his Pardons give
To Rebells, rising in their native soyle.
This Pope doth send Magitians to her land
To seeke her death, by that their deuillish arte:
Yea which is more, h'd cause a deuillish doult
Of Fraunce, a Doctor (Parry I do meane)
With smiling face for to discharge a Dagge
At her kind heart, who saued had his life.
See here the fruite of kindnes ill bestow'd:
See here a wight, worse then the doggest beasts
Ungratefull wretch, to Nature farre unlike:
9
But thou (alas) by Nature neuer taught,
Didst seeke the death of this thy happie Queene.
Whose sacred life did save thy dying death,
O damned villaine fostred by a Wolfe,
Borne of a Tiger, nursed by a Beare.
Nay worse then these, did nourish this, foule impe:
For Belzabub by blacke Proserpina,
Could ne're haue had a deuill halfe so bad.
But what ensued thereof: but this of right:
The God of heaven, who searcheth every heart,
And hath regard unto the innocent,
Reueil'd their thoughts, their treasons did display,
Before they were by them in practise put,
And they who sought to spill her guiltles blood,
Did lose their blood, and Parry gain'd a rope.
These were the deedes of Pius quintus Pope,
Wherein the deuill had no little share:
But tooke great paynes, and for his paynes he had
The Pope himselfe, with all his Instruments.
NOw seeing Paulus nothing could atchieue
By Francis meanes: And also seeing that
The Northerne power got nought in Pius time:
An other Pope (Pope Gregorie forsooth)
He needes must shoote as haue the others done,
But yet will haue his bowe and arrowes newe.
His marke is that, whereat the other shot,
But takes his aime from Ireland thereto.
Fitzmorises, with wretched Desmons Earle,
Were chiefest shafts which in his quiuer were.
With these same shafts he thought to hit the white,
And therefore plac'd them first within his bowe:
But ere he could unlose the string thereof
And let them flie, whereat they level'd were:
The mightie God did cause the warlike Gray
To blow a blast, yea such a boysterous blast,
As arrowes brake, and bowe in peeces flew,
And Pope himselfe constrayn'd to leave his stand.
By Francis meanes: And also seeing that
The Northerne power got nought in Pius time:
An other Pope (Pope Gregorie forsooth)
He needes must shoote as haue the others done,
But yet will haue his bowe and arrowes newe.
His marke is that, whereat the other shot,
But takes his aime from Ireland thereto.
Fitzmorises, with wretched Desmons Earle,
Were chiefest shafts which in his quiuer were.
With these same shafts he thought to hit the white,
And therefore plac'd them first within his bowe:
But ere he could unlose the string thereof
And let them flie, whereat they level'd were:
10
To blow a blast, yea such a boysterous blast,
As arrowes brake, and bowe in peeces flew,
And Pope himselfe constrayn'd to leave his stand.
THis Pope though foyl'd, yet will not leaue off so,
But since that this his purpose will not fadge,
H'd practise now, as haue the other done,
By priuate traytors to reuenge his foyle.
And like a Foxe who takes his Cubbes abroad
Unto a place, where Pullen are at feede:
He thether come, will not go in himselfe,
But sendeth them, and sayes h'd keepe the watch.
Go, spare no blood (saith he) there is ynough,
Behead the Geese, destroy both Cocke and Hennes,
Leave ne're a Chicke but shalbe motherles,
Which done, returne that we may all reioyce,
And glut our selues with their desired blood:
You for your hire shall have your share therein.
The simple Cubbes lesse guilie then the Foxe,
Do straight beleeue their Sire is sure a God,
And thinke at least they shalbe Kings or Lords:
But as they went about their purpose meant,
In certaine trappes (which th'owner of that place
Had set, to catch the Cattell of that kind)
They fast were caught (a straunge and sodaine chaunge)
They call for ayde unto their craftie Sire:
But he (for sooth) when as he heard the clappe,
Did runne away post-hast unto his denne,
And leaves his Cubbes to shift to saue their lives.
Thus deales the Pope, a subtile dealing Foxe:
For when he hath with Popish Pardons sent
The Priests (his Cubbes) unto this happie land,
Where is the foule whereat he aimeth still.
These Iewes-like Cubbes do seeke by all their shifts
To mooue rebellion here agaynst our Queene.
These Catterpillers, persons traytors borne
Incourage then to kill her Maiestie.
These seeke to bring in straunge and forraigne powers,
Which should destroy their natiue Counterie.
These publisht tayles and lyes in euery place,
And blas'd abroad that this our Soueraigne
A tyrant is, (O damned enterprise)
When they them-selues forsaken of their Sire,
By law condemn'd, have openly confes'd,
That nought they sought, nor ought they could looke for,
Except the Queene did mercie to them shew.
But since that this his purpose will not fadge,
H'd practise now, as haue the other done,
By priuate traytors to reuenge his foyle.
And like a Foxe who takes his Cubbes abroad
Unto a place, where Pullen are at feede:
He thether come, will not go in himselfe,
But sendeth them, and sayes h'd keepe the watch.
Go, spare no blood (saith he) there is ynough,
Behead the Geese, destroy both Cocke and Hennes,
Leave ne're a Chicke but shalbe motherles,
Which done, returne that we may all reioyce,
And glut our selues with their desired blood:
You for your hire shall have your share therein.
The simple Cubbes lesse guilie then the Foxe,
Do straight beleeue their Sire is sure a God,
And thinke at least they shalbe Kings or Lords:
But as they went about their purpose meant,
In certaine trappes (which th'owner of that place
Had set, to catch the Cattell of that kind)
They fast were caught (a straunge and sodaine chaunge)
They call for ayde unto their craftie Sire:
But he (for sooth) when as he heard the clappe,
Did runne away post-hast unto his denne,
And leaves his Cubbes to shift to saue their lives.
Thus deales the Pope, a subtile dealing Foxe:
For when he hath with Popish Pardons sent
The Priests (his Cubbes) unto this happie land,
Where is the foule whereat he aimeth still.
These Iewes-like Cubbes do seeke by all their shifts
11
These Catterpillers, persons traytors borne
Incourage then to kill her Maiestie.
These seeke to bring in straunge and forraigne powers,
Which should destroy their natiue Counterie.
These publisht tayles and lyes in euery place,
And blas'd abroad that this our Soueraigne
A tyrant is, (O damned enterprise)
When they them-selues forsaken of their Sire,
By law condemn'd, have openly confes'd,
That nought they sought, nor ought they could looke for,
Except the Queene did mercie to them shew.
ABout this time did Phillip King of Spayne,
By this Popes meanes prepare a mightie power,
England therewith he would have ouer-runne:
But Don Iohn died who should have meruels done,
Whereby he was debarr'd from that his course.
The Pope so grieues for this so bad successe,
As h'is halfe mad with finding out new meanes,
Which once may quench his neuer-ceasing thirst.
H'd now leaue of his warlike kind of shifts,
And play a while the Grasier in his deedes.
He sends abroad his Seminarie Priests
To drive his Bulls unto the English soyle.
They being there within a fruitfull land,
Do fat apace, and too too lustie grow:
They cannot live unlesse they have some Kowes,
By whom their courage may abated bée.
They bull them oft, and bulling get fayre Calues
Like to them-selues, within a little space
Which grow so fast, as within twise-three yeares
They able are to draw the Popish wayne.
By this Popes meanes prepare a mightie power,
England therewith he would have ouer-runne:
But Don Iohn died who should have meruels done,
Whereby he was debarr'd from that his course.
The Pope so grieues for this so bad successe,
As h'is halfe mad with finding out new meanes,
Which once may quench his neuer-ceasing thirst.
H'd now leaue of his warlike kind of shifts,
And play a while the Grasier in his deedes.
He sends abroad his Seminarie Priests
To drive his Bulls unto the English soyle.
They being there within a fruitfull land,
Do fat apace, and too too lustie grow:
They cannot live unlesse they have some Kowes,
By whom their courage may abated bée.
They bull them oft, and bulling get fayre Calues
Like to them-selues, within a little space
Which grow so fast, as within twise-three yeares
They able are to draw the Popish wayne.
12
THe Queene of Scots is chiefest instrument
This Pope doth use soone after he doth raigne:
For by her meanes there were a companie
Of forward gallants brought unto their ends.
Fourteene braue youths, with diuers other are
By her intised to conspire the death
Of their thrise sacred and renowned Queene.
Proud Babbington with all his wretched crue,
Do seeke the spoyle of this their natiue soyle.
These with their friends will ayde such forraigne powers,
As shall to dare to land within this Realme.
These Catholikes (nay Catterpillers then)
Will set this Pope within his former seate
In England here, or els thei'l dye the death.
These by their oathes have bound themselues thereto:
Oh Heauens: O Earth: O neuer-dying Fame:
Lament with me for Englands haples lucke:
Her haples lucke through these unnaturall sonnes
Who seeke to ruine her their mother deare,
And lay in wait to slay their carefull Nurse
Elizabeth, their Queene and royall Nurse,
Whose milke her lawes (her sacred life-full lawes)
Was for them food, if that they would have suckt:
Whose sacred lawes a cradle (none so sure)
Was for their ease, would they have lien therein.
And last whose lawes did carefully them warne
Least they should fall, by payne which long'd thereto.
But these fond youthes (as wayward Children) did
Despise the counsell of their carefull Nurse,
And for the same they seeke her death (alas)
With the confusion of their mother deare.
These moued were for sacred Conscience sake
To do these deedes (a Deuill sure they were)
When they themselues did at their ends confesse,
For this their facts promotion they should haue.
I that's the Conscience which hath mooued them
To seeke an alteration in this land.
The Pope he thinks he so deserues the place,
As nere he shall it get by iust desarts.
The youthfull Sirs so well esteeme of Fame,
As if they may attaine unto her Court,
Thei'l spare no meanes how to obtaine that place.
The Queene of Scots desires to rule this Realme
With such whoate zeale, as that she doth not care
How many soules unto Elizium
Are sent, so she the English Crowne may weare.
But marke the end which did ensue thereof.
As foolish Flies, which cannot rest at night
If that they see a light within their sight,
But still will flie unto the flame thereof,
Untill they have themselues consum'd therewith:
So little power haue they how to resist
The burning flames which do ensue there-fro.
Or as a Bird, which being set to rest
Within a bush, when as he sees the light
The which the Fowler carieth in his hand,
Doth straight approach unto the flame thereof,
Whereby h'is catched in his limed bush.
These foolish flies, these fond faceted birds,
These witlesse youths, these thursting paragons
Can not abide to see so cleere a light,
As be the beames which glide from this our Queene,
But still they storme, and enuie at the same,
And never cease till they consumed are
By those the fire-like burning flames thereof.
For Babbington with all his companie
Attainted were with these their traiterous actes,
And had the hire which is to Traitors due.
The Queene of Scots was guiltie found by lawe,
And suffered death for this conspiracie.
This Pope doth use soone after he doth raigne:
For by her meanes there were a companie
Of forward gallants brought unto their ends.
Fourteene braue youths, with diuers other are
By her intised to conspire the death
Of their thrise sacred and renowned Queene.
Proud Babbington with all his wretched crue,
Do seeke the spoyle of this their natiue soyle.
These with their friends will ayde such forraigne powers,
As shall to dare to land within this Realme.
These Catholikes (nay Catterpillers then)
Will set this Pope within his former seate
In England here, or els thei'l dye the death.
These by their oathes have bound themselues thereto:
Oh Heauens: O Earth: O neuer-dying Fame:
Lament with me for Englands haples lucke:
Her haples lucke through these unnaturall sonnes
Who seeke to ruine her their mother deare,
And lay in wait to slay their carefull Nurse
Elizabeth, their Queene and royall Nurse,
Whose milke her lawes (her sacred life-full lawes)
Was for them food, if that they would have suckt:
Whose sacred lawes a cradle (none so sure)
Was for their ease, would they have lien therein.
And last whose lawes did carefully them warne
Least they should fall, by payne which long'd thereto.
But these fond youthes (as wayward Children) did
Despise the counsell of their carefull Nurse,
And for the same they seeke her death (alas)
With the confusion of their mother deare.
These moued were for sacred Conscience sake
To do these deedes (a Deuill sure they were)
When they themselues did at their ends confesse,
For this their facts promotion they should haue.
I that's the Conscience which hath mooued them
13
The Pope he thinks he so deserues the place,
As nere he shall it get by iust desarts.
The youthfull Sirs so well esteeme of Fame,
As if they may attaine unto her Court,
Thei'l spare no meanes how to obtaine that place.
The Queene of Scots desires to rule this Realme
With such whoate zeale, as that she doth not care
How many soules unto Elizium
Are sent, so she the English Crowne may weare.
But marke the end which did ensue thereof.
As foolish Flies, which cannot rest at night
If that they see a light within their sight,
But still will flie unto the flame thereof,
Untill they have themselues consum'd therewith:
So little power haue they how to resist
The burning flames which do ensue there-fro.
Or as a Bird, which being set to rest
Within a bush, when as he sees the light
The which the Fowler carieth in his hand,
Doth straight approach unto the flame thereof,
Whereby h'is catched in his limed bush.
These foolish flies, these fond faceted birds,
These witlesse youths, these thursting paragons
Can not abide to see so cleere a light,
As be the beames which glide from this our Queene,
But still they storme, and enuie at the same,
And never cease till they consumed are
By those the fire-like burning flames thereof.
For Babbington with all his companie
Attainted were with these their traiterous actes,
And had the hire which is to Traitors due.
The Queene of Scots was guiltie found by lawe,
And suffered death for this conspiracie.
14
THe raging Panther so abhorres to see
The maiestie the which a man presents,
As at the sight thereof he frets and fumes,
And tryes all meanes how to destroy the same.
Yea which is more, if happely he spies
A painted man, he so enuyes thereat,
As nere h'd leave till he defaced hath
The fained face which in the picture is.
This diuelish Pope a Panther borne by birth,
No lesse abhorreth our dread Soueraigne,
Her Maiestie doth so offend his sight,
As all his thoughts are how it to disgrace.
The King of Spayne who as you heard before,
Debarred was from comming hitherwards,
Hath euer sithence enlarged that his power,
Untill this yeare wherein it complet is:
In this same yeare of eighty eight, the King
Catholique hath (unto the end he may,
In England hére the credit of the Pope
Renewe againe) had from his holinesse
Both money, men, with many of his Bulls.
In which he sings the Coockoes song (all one)
Except this clause, He hath both disposs'd
Our royall Queene of this her happy seate,
And all her Nobles with graue Counsellers
Which shall alliant be vnto our Queene.
Eke all her Subiects who shall her defend
Gainst Spanish King (the King of Catholiques:)
And also doth his Holinesse giue power,
That this our Queene with all her subiects true,
Should euery one be put vnto the sword:
And all their Lands with liuings he bestowes
On vanquishers, which come to execute
His holy will, and diuelish purposes.
See these the works of Christs Uicker on earth,
Who doth forsake his charge (the cure of soules)
And practiseth how to destroy both soules
And bodies of Christs deare and sacred flocke
Through this his damned doome in that his Bull.
Through which his Bull (much like the horned beast
Which sent the same:) the King of Spayne naught feares
But that he shall receiue his former seate,
In England heere, ere end of eighty eight,
And therefore hath imbarqued all his men
Within a sort of huge and warlike Ships.
Seauenscore and tenne of the best fighting ships,
Which could provided be within seauen yeares,
With all his men which able are to fight,
Are ready now to sayle to England-ward.
But when the Ruler of this little Isle,
(A famous Isle through this her Gouernour,)
Did understand of this their whole pretence,
She was not slacke in mustring of her men:
For lesse then in the space of two whole moneths,
She mustered had out of all her Shires,
A hundred thousand able fighting men.
The Lord Haward her worthy Admirall,
Sir Frauncis Drake Vize-Admirall under him,
Lord Thomas Howard and the Sheffild Lord,
With diuers other forward Gentlemen:
To Sea were sent with all her royall Fleete,
To guard the Streights, and méete with that his Fleete.
The maiestie the which a man presents,
As at the sight thereof he frets and fumes,
And tryes all meanes how to destroy the same.
Yea which is more, if happely he spies
A painted man, he so enuyes thereat,
As nere h'd leave till he defaced hath
The fained face which in the picture is.
This diuelish Pope a Panther borne by birth,
No lesse abhorreth our dread Soueraigne,
Her Maiestie doth so offend his sight,
As all his thoughts are how it to disgrace.
The King of Spayne who as you heard before,
Debarred was from comming hitherwards,
Hath euer sithence enlarged that his power,
Untill this yeare wherein it complet is:
In this same yeare of eighty eight, the King
Catholique hath (unto the end he may,
In England hére the credit of the Pope
Renewe againe) had from his holinesse
Both money, men, with many of his Bulls.
In which he sings the Coockoes song (all one)
Except this clause, He hath both disposs'd
Our royall Queene of this her happy seate,
And all her Nobles with graue Counsellers
Which shall alliant be vnto our Queene.
Eke all her Subiects who shall her defend
Gainst Spanish King (the King of Catholiques:)
And also doth his Holinesse giue power,
That this our Queene with all her subiects true,
Should euery one be put vnto the sword:
And all their Lands with liuings he bestowes
On vanquishers, which come to execute
His holy will, and diuelish purposes.
See these the works of Christs Uicker on earth,
Who doth forsake his charge (the cure of soules)
15
And bodies of Christs deare and sacred flocke
Through this his damned doome in that his Bull.
Through which his Bull (much like the horned beast
Which sent the same:) the King of Spayne naught feares
But that he shall receiue his former seate,
In England heere, ere end of eighty eight,
And therefore hath imbarqued all his men
Within a sort of huge and warlike Ships.
Seauenscore and tenne of the best fighting ships,
Which could provided be within seauen yeares,
With all his men which able are to fight,
Are ready now to sayle to England-ward.
But when the Ruler of this little Isle,
(A famous Isle through this her Gouernour,)
Did understand of this their whole pretence,
She was not slacke in mustring of her men:
For lesse then in the space of two whole moneths,
She mustered had out of all her Shires,
A hundred thousand able fighting men.
The Lord Haward her worthy Admirall,
Sir Frauncis Drake Vize-Admirall under him,
Lord Thomas Howard and the Sheffild Lord,
With diuers other forward Gentlemen:
To Sea were sent with all her royall Fleete,
To guard the Streights, and méete with that his Fleete.
BUt least they should perhaps escape their hands,
And land their forces on her aim'd-at land,
A Campe of fiftie thousand able men,
Appointed should have layne on Tilbery hill,
Where Leicesters thrise made renowned Earle
Lieutenant was unto our royall Queene.
And Sir Iohn Norris honor'd for his deedes,
Lord Marshall was among that companie.
Eake Deuorax of Essex famous Earle,
Whose forwardnesse hath made his house renown'd,
Was Generall of braue five thousand horse,
Which should have come unto that royall Campe.
Sir Thomas Laiton chiefest Colloner
Of all the footemen which should thether come.
Sir Francis Knowles of the great Ordinance,
Was Mayster there (a place of great accompt.)
And Nicholas Dawterie (Captaine long agoe
For former deedes) her Seriant maior was,
Sir Roger Williams had the second chardge
Of Complet horsse, which armed Launcers bore,
And Robert Sidney Knight had equall chardge
Of braue light Horsse belonging to that Campe.
There Captaine Edward Yorke obtain'd the place
Of quarter-Mayster to the placed Campe,
And Captaine Crispe, her Prouish-mershall now,
Did beare that office in the royall place.
The regiments which out of every Shire
Elected were, for this most famous Campe,
Except those Shires next neighbours to the Sea,
Did dayly marche by companyes thereto.
Now mightie Mars a stranger heere-tofore,
In armour bright with never-yeelding sword,
Commes brauely mounted on a foming Steede,
Whose trampling causeth such a fearefull noise,
As all the world is shaked with his power.
Now might you see the field late pasture greene,
Wherein the beasts did take their foode and rest,
Become a place for braue and worthie men.
Heere noble men, who stately houses haue,
Do leave them voide, to liue within their Tents.
Heere worth' Esquires, who lay on beds of doune,
Do Cabben now upen a coutch of strawe:
In stead of houses strong, with timber built
They Cabbins make of powles, and thinne greene bowes:
And where of late their Tables costly were,
They now do dine but at an earthie banke:
Ne do they greeue at this so hard a chainge,
But thinke them-selves thereby thrise happy made:
For when there were a twentie thousand come
Of braue footemen unto this placed Campe,
And twise-tenne hundred well appointed Horsse,
To serue with Launce, and Demilances there,
They all on heapes do make so brave a showe,
As it was thought that then there were ynowe,
For to encounter with their look'd-for foes:
Wherefore there went commaundement from the Lords,
Who of her honorable Counsell are,
That those which were as yet not thether come,
Should stay from thence within their seuerall Shires,
Untill there came some newes of farther neede.
They thereby stai'd, do greatly greeue thereat,
And often say for that their hap is bad.
Yea which is more, there was a regiment
But of one thousand men of Dorset-shire
Which offered fiue hundred pounds that they
Might forward goe unto the royall Campe.
And further marke. (I tell a right strange tale,
I hard of one who was of great regard
In Tilb'ry Campe,) There serued with the rest
An Essex-man, who was a Muskater,
Who being met by one which neere him dwelt,
Was asked why he serued with a gunne,
The souldier sayd, my friend you are deceiu'd,
This is no gunne, a Musket we it call,
The other said, but sir you have enow
Of seruants who are very able men,
And might haue had performed this your charge
In better sort then can your weakely selfe,
It is right true (replied the souldier then,)
I haue some store of servants at my house,
And (thanks to God) I able am and will
(If that our Queene shall stand in any neede,)
Prouide five hundred well appointed men,
To serue where-as her Highnesse shall thinke good:
And they euen there at mine owne cost shall serue
Iust three whole months, and yet will I my selfe
There like-wise be (as now a Muskater.)
The fame of this her Subiects forwardnesse,
Did please so well our sacred Soveraigne,
As she desires to see her placed Campe,
There-fore there was by her a downe-set day,
Where-in she would fullfill her purpose meant.
And land their forces on her aim'd-at land,
A Campe of fiftie thousand able men,
Appointed should have layne on Tilbery hill,
Where Leicesters thrise made renowned Earle
Lieutenant was unto our royall Queene.
And Sir Iohn Norris honor'd for his deedes,
Lord Marshall was among that companie.
16
Whose forwardnesse hath made his house renown'd,
Was Generall of braue five thousand horse,
Which should have come unto that royall Campe.
Sir Thomas Laiton chiefest Colloner
Of all the footemen which should thether come.
Sir Francis Knowles of the great Ordinance,
Was Mayster there (a place of great accompt.)
And Nicholas Dawterie (Captaine long agoe
For former deedes) her Seriant maior was,
Sir Roger Williams had the second chardge
Of Complet horsse, which armed Launcers bore,
And Robert Sidney Knight had equall chardge
Of braue light Horsse belonging to that Campe.
There Captaine Edward Yorke obtain'd the place
Of quarter-Mayster to the placed Campe,
And Captaine Crispe, her Prouish-mershall now,
Did beare that office in the royall place.
The regiments which out of every Shire
Elected were, for this most famous Campe,
Except those Shires next neighbours to the Sea,
Did dayly marche by companyes thereto.
Now mightie Mars a stranger heere-tofore,
In armour bright with never-yeelding sword,
Commes brauely mounted on a foming Steede,
Whose trampling causeth such a fearefull noise,
As all the world is shaked with his power.
Now might you see the field late pasture greene,
Wherein the beasts did take their foode and rest,
Become a place for braue and worthie men.
Heere noble men, who stately houses haue,
Do leave them voide, to liue within their Tents.
Heere worth' Esquires, who lay on beds of doune,
Do Cabben now upen a coutch of strawe:
In stead of houses strong, with timber built
They Cabbins make of powles, and thinne greene bowes:
17
They now do dine but at an earthie banke:
Ne do they greeue at this so hard a chainge,
But thinke them-selves thereby thrise happy made:
For when there were a twentie thousand come
Of braue footemen unto this placed Campe,
And twise-tenne hundred well appointed Horsse,
To serue with Launce, and Demilances there,
They all on heapes do make so brave a showe,
As it was thought that then there were ynowe,
For to encounter with their look'd-for foes:
Wherefore there went commaundement from the Lords,
Who of her honorable Counsell are,
That those which were as yet not thether come,
Should stay from thence within their seuerall Shires,
Untill there came some newes of farther neede.
They thereby stai'd, do greatly greeue thereat,
And often say for that their hap is bad.
Yea which is more, there was a regiment
But of one thousand men of Dorset-shire
Which offered fiue hundred pounds that they
Might forward goe unto the royall Campe.
And further marke. (I tell a right strange tale,
I hard of one who was of great regard
In Tilb'ry Campe,) There serued with the rest
An Essex-man, who was a Muskater,
Who being met by one which neere him dwelt,
Was asked why he serued with a gunne,
The souldier sayd, my friend you are deceiu'd,
This is no gunne, a Musket we it call,
The other said, but sir you have enow
Of seruants who are very able men,
And might haue had performed this your charge
In better sort then can your weakely selfe,
It is right true (replied the souldier then,)
I haue some store of servants at my house,
18
(If that our Queene shall stand in any neede,)
Prouide five hundred well appointed men,
To serue where-as her Highnesse shall thinke good:
And they euen there at mine owne cost shall serue
Iust three whole months, and yet will I my selfe
There like-wise be (as now a Muskater.)
The fame of this her Subiects forwardnesse,
Did please so well our sacred Soveraigne,
As she desires to see her placed Campe,
There-fore there was by her a downe-set day,
Where-in she would fullfill her purpose meant.
Now came the day, the happy blisse-full day,
Where-in Aurora putting foorth hir head,
Hir curled head with wirey hanging locks
Of brightest Siluer, whence did newlie shine
Hir clearest streames, and neuer-darkened lights.
The morning gray, wher-in the houering Larks,
(Whose sweete shrill notes recording hermonie
Resound with-in the heauenly creatures eares,)
Did notise giue to wretched Phaetons Sire,
To harnesse up his fierce and furious Steeds,
To drawe him thence unto his Westerne home.
From whose cleare beames once in his Chariot plast,
Did gladsome glimps as bright as burnisht Gold,
Shine all displai'd upon the Waightie Globe.
On this same day, a faire and glorious day,
Came this out Queene, (a Queene most like her selfe)
Unto her Campe, (now made a royall Campe,)
With all her troupe, (her Court-like stately troupe,)
Not like to those who coutch on stately Doune,
But like to Mars, the God of fearefull warre,
And heauing oft to Skies her war-like hands,
Did make her selfe Bellona-like renown'd.
The Lord Lieutenant notice had there-of,
Who did forth-with prepare to entertaine
The sacred Goddesse of this English soyle,
The order how, thus presently ensues.
On euery side of that directest way
From Block-house where she should be set on land
Unto the outward quarter of the Campe,
There rancked were both armed men and shot,
With Captaines, who of them had taken charge,
To entertaine their sacred Generall.
The other Captaines with their companies,
Still resident were at their Corps du guard,
Where-as they ranked all their arm'd-men first:
Behinde them were the shot in seuerall ranks,
With equall distance twixt the placed rowes,
Which made a passing brave and war-like showe.
The Earle of Leicester with those Officers
Which chosen were to gouerne in the field,
At water-side within the Block-house stayd
In readinesse there to receiue our Queene.
Who landed now, doth passe along her way,
She thence some-way still marching kinglike-on,
The Canons at the Block-house were discharg'd:
The Drums do sound, the Phiphes do yeeld their notes,
And Ensignes are displayd through-out the Campe.
Our peerelesse Queene doth by her Souldiers passe,
And shewes her selfe unto her Subiects there:
She thanks them oft for their (of dutie) paines,
And they againe on knees do pray for her.
They coutch their Pikes, and bowe their Ensignes downe
When as their sacred royall Queene past by,
In token of their loyall beared hearts
To her alone, and none but only she.
A troupe of braue and warre-like Horssemen did
(Conducted by Sir Roger Williams Knight,)
Meete with the Queene amid the way she came,
The halfe whereof, which was fiue hundred Horsse,
Most stately Steedes, made complete for the field,
With neighing sounds, and fomed champing bitts,
Betrampling sore the ground whereas they stoode
Attended on her sacred selfe. The rest
Five hundred more (in nought to them unlike)
Before her traine in stately order marcht,
These ioyntly did with twentie hundred men
Which footemen were, our gratious Soveraigne guard,
Unto the house whereas she lay all night.
Whether once come, the horse-men turned backe,
But all the rest with her great Seriant did
Watch there all night aloofe her royall Court.
The souldyers which placed were farre off
From that same way through which she past along,
Did hollow oft, the Lord preserue our Queene.
He happy was that could but see hir Coatch,
The sides where of beset with Emmerods,
And Diomonds with sparkling Rubies red
In Checker-wise by strange inuention,
With curious knots embrodered with golde
Cast such a glimse as if the heavenly place
Of Phebus were by those his foming Steedes
On foure round wheeles drawne all along that way
Thrise happy they who sawe her stately selfe,
Who Iuno-like drawne with her proudest birds,
Whose tayles do hold her Heard-mans hundred eyes,
Passed along through quarters of the Campe
Thus all along her Highnesse like her selfe
Hath passed by her subiects (ioyfull made
Through this her louing and renowned deede)
From out the Campe unto her lodging then,
Full three miles distant from that warlike place
Prepared for her to Maister Ritche his house,
With purpose meant for to returne next day
That way againe, the better it to view.
Where-in Aurora putting foorth hir head,
Hir curled head with wirey hanging locks
Of brightest Siluer, whence did newlie shine
Hir clearest streames, and neuer-darkened lights.
The morning gray, wher-in the houering Larks,
(Whose sweete shrill notes recording hermonie
Resound with-in the heauenly creatures eares,)
Did notise giue to wretched Phaetons Sire,
To harnesse up his fierce and furious Steeds,
To drawe him thence unto his Westerne home.
From whose cleare beames once in his Chariot plast,
Did gladsome glimps as bright as burnisht Gold,
Shine all displai'd upon the Waightie Globe.
On this same day, a faire and glorious day,
Came this out Queene, (a Queene most like her selfe)
Unto her Campe, (now made a royall Campe,)
With all her troupe, (her Court-like stately troupe,)
Not like to those who coutch on stately Doune,
But like to Mars, the God of fearefull warre,
And heauing oft to Skies her war-like hands,
Did make her selfe Bellona-like renown'd.
19
Who did forth-with prepare to entertaine
The sacred Goddesse of this English soyle,
The order how, thus presently ensues.
On euery side of that directest way
From Block-house where she should be set on land
Unto the outward quarter of the Campe,
There rancked were both armed men and shot,
With Captaines, who of them had taken charge,
To entertaine their sacred Generall.
The other Captaines with their companies,
Still resident were at their Corps du guard,
Where-as they ranked all their arm'd-men first:
Behinde them were the shot in seuerall ranks,
With equall distance twixt the placed rowes,
Which made a passing brave and war-like showe.
The Earle of Leicester with those Officers
Which chosen were to gouerne in the field,
At water-side within the Block-house stayd
In readinesse there to receiue our Queene.
Who landed now, doth passe along her way,
She thence some-way still marching kinglike-on,
The Canons at the Block-house were discharg'd:
The Drums do sound, the Phiphes do yeeld their notes,
And Ensignes are displayd through-out the Campe.
Our peerelesse Queene doth by her Souldiers passe,
And shewes her selfe unto her Subiects there:
She thanks them oft for their (of dutie) paines,
And they againe on knees do pray for her.
They coutch their Pikes, and bowe their Ensignes downe
When as their sacred royall Queene past by,
In token of their loyall beared hearts
To her alone, and none but only she.
A troupe of braue and warre-like Horssemen did
(Conducted by Sir Roger Williams Knight,)
Meete with the Queene amid the way she came,
20
Most stately Steedes, made complete for the field,
With neighing sounds, and fomed champing bitts,
Betrampling sore the ground whereas they stoode
Attended on her sacred selfe. The rest
Five hundred more (in nought to them unlike)
Before her traine in stately order marcht,
These ioyntly did with twentie hundred men
Which footemen were, our gratious Soveraigne guard,
Unto the house whereas she lay all night.
Whether once come, the horse-men turned backe,
But all the rest with her great Seriant did
Watch there all night aloofe her royall Court.
The souldyers which placed were farre off
From that same way through which she past along,
Did hollow oft, the Lord preserue our Queene.
He happy was that could but see hir Coatch,
The sides where of beset with Emmerods,
And Diomonds with sparkling Rubies red
In Checker-wise by strange inuention,
With curious knots embrodered with golde
Cast such a glimse as if the heavenly place
Of Phebus were by those his foming Steedes
On foure round wheeles drawne all along that way
Thrise happy they who sawe her stately selfe,
Who Iuno-like drawne with her proudest birds,
Whose tayles do hold her Heard-mans hundred eyes,
Passed along through quarters of the Campe
Thus all along her Highnesse like her selfe
Hath passed by her subiects (ioyfull made
Through this her louing and renowned deede)
From out the Campe unto her lodging then,
Full three miles distant from that warlike place
Prepared for her to Maister Ritche his house,
With purpose meant for to returne next day
That way againe, the better it to view.
21
Now when Bright-day was to her pallace gon.
And by that time had locked up her lights
Within their place strong walled with cleere glasse,
To take their rest untill the morning tide:
By this same time our sacred Generall
Was come unto her new prepared Court.
There entred once and in their lodgings plast,
The Courtiers talke is of the warlike show
They sawe that day within the royall Campe.
Some praise the place whereas they camped are:
Some praise the discipline is vs'd therein:
And othersome the passing forwardnesse
Of Noble men, and Gentels lying there:
But all of them do say, the Souldiers are
Most comely men appoynted well thereto.
Thus with this talke, Time hasted fast away,
And wish'd-for Rest did come among them then,
Who bids them all unto his loved house;
They willingly do yeeld to her request,
And euery one is come unto her place:
The doore whereof was called Wearines,
And Drowsines bore name of her first roume:
The other were term'd Slumbers (passing sweete)
A Sound-sleepe was the name of that her house
Her seruants who did entertaine her guestes
Were these, A mind free from all worldly care,
An earnest will, with A conuenient place,
The guests thus come at this their welcome ioy,
And there do finde all things they could desire.
But Enuie, who doth ioy in nought but warres,
Doth helpe to end this their so pleasant mirth:
For fearefull Dreames, with foolish phantasies,
The formost foes that quiet Rest torments,
Come first to make an hurly-burly there.
Then brightest Day the others Generall,
Doth banish Rest quite from her late-held house,
And leaves her guests unto their day-ment deedes.
And by that time had locked up her lights
Within their place strong walled with cleere glasse,
To take their rest untill the morning tide:
By this same time our sacred Generall
Was come unto her new prepared Court.
There entred once and in their lodgings plast,
The Courtiers talke is of the warlike show
They sawe that day within the royall Campe.
Some praise the place whereas they camped are:
Some praise the discipline is vs'd therein:
And othersome the passing forwardnesse
Of Noble men, and Gentels lying there:
But all of them do say, the Souldiers are
Most comely men appoynted well thereto.
Thus with this talke, Time hasted fast away,
And wish'd-for Rest did come among them then,
Who bids them all unto his loved house;
They willingly do yeeld to her request,
And euery one is come unto her place:
The doore whereof was called Wearines,
And Drowsines bore name of her first roume:
The other were term'd Slumbers (passing sweete)
A Sound-sleepe was the name of that her house
Her seruants who did entertaine her guestes
Were these, A mind free from all worldly care,
An earnest will, with A conuenient place,
The guests thus come at this their welcome ioy,
And there do finde all things they could desire.
But Enuie, who doth ioy in nought but warres,
Doth helpe to end this their so pleasant mirth:
For fearefull Dreames, with foolish phantasies,
The formost foes that quiet Rest torments,
Come first to make an hurly-burly there.
Then brightest Day the others Generall,
22
And leaves her guests unto their day-ment deedes.
NOw by the time that Phæbus had beyok'd
His foming Steedes within their harnesses
To draw his bright and neuer-darkned lights:
The Captaines of the Campe with all their men
Did from their quarters with their seuerall charge
Come marching to the place prepar'd for Armes,
When thether come was every officer,
A royall battell royally was set
With two most strong and braue Battallians.
The Vangard whereof by the Lord Marshall:
The Reerward by Sir William Knowles was set:
And last the Seriant Maior Generall
The Battell set in like most war-like sort.
Twixt every fight their seuerall troopes of horse,
And two braue troopes did guard the outward Flankes
The Battells set do march in braue aray
Both too and fro the stately Generall,
Who now was come unto the place of Armes
With all her noble and renowned trayned
Where glittering harnesse giues such gleaming lights,
And from those lights reflecteth such a heate,
As Heauen and Earth with Planets greatly feare,
Least Phaeton agayne to Heauen was come,
And had obtain'd to guide his fathers lights.
The trampling horses with their mist-like breath,
Do fill the Ayre with such a sodaine smoake,
As Iupiter did feare least Terra was
New set on fire by that fore-named heate.
The Drommes, the Phiphes, the Trumpets passing shrill,
Do sounded yeeld such marching forward notes,
As Mars himselfe with all his train'd-up men,
In Armes are prest, as if the Goddesse Peace
Were comming now to banish him the field.
Which war-like showe with that Mars thundring noyse,
So ravished our princely Soveraigne,
(Addicted only then to Marshall prowes)
As that she doth (her trayne forbid therefro)
Most bravely mounted on a stately Steede
With Trunchion in her hand (not vs'd thereto)
And with her none, except her Liutenant,
Accompaned with the Lord Chamberlaine,
Come marching towards this her marching fight.
In nought unlike the Amazonian Queene,
Who beating downe amaine the bloodie Greekes,
Thereby to grapple with Achillis stout,
Even at the time when Troy was sore besieg'd.
He had that wight (that thrise puissant wight)
Who well perform'd twelue labors passing straunge,
A brauer grace encountring with his foes,
Then this our Queene in that her marching pace.
Thus comes our Queene (our thrise renowned Queene)
A Generall beseeming such a Campe:
Thus comes our guide, a princely carefull guide,
In war-like sorte to see her warring men,
Who couched had their strong defensiue Pikes,
As if they were to fight at push thereof.
She nigh them come, they pitch their fore-couch'd Pikes,
And she stands still to see the Battell set,
With ioy to see her men to keepe their rankes,
Now Voada once Englands happie Queene,
Through Romans flight by her constrain'd to flie:
Who making way amidst the slaughtered corps,
Pursued her foes with honor of the day
With Vodice her daughter (her too like,
Who urging wounds with constant courage died)
Are now reuiu'd, their vertues liue (I say)
Through this our Queene, now Englands happie Queene.
For they no more did in those actuall deedes,
Thrise famous deedes through Cactes fatall fall,
With losse which there the valiant Planch'us lost
Their Prowes shew, then did our sacred Queene
Here signes display of courage wonderfull.
For when our Queene (an Amazonian Queene)
Most carefully the Vauward had beheld,
She thence doth go the Reerward for to see,
And takes a view of [OMITTED] two strong set Flankes:
At whose by passing, Launce with Pike are bow'd,
And all yeeld reuerence to her sacred selfe.
Her officers with all her Souldiers there,
Do tokens shew of their made-ioyfull hearts.
She giues them thankes as had she done before:
Who nought have done but what their dueties bid.
Her statelines was so with loue-show'd ioyn'd,
As all there then did ioyntly ioy and feare.
They ioy'd in that they see their rulers loue:
But fear'd least that in ought they should offend
Agaynst her selfe, the Goddesse of this land,
Thus causing ioy and feare, she passed thence
With cherefull heart for this her late viewed sight
Unto the Tent of her Liuetenant there:
Were readie were in readines each thing,
Which could be fit to entertayne a Queene.
The Battell set, is soone agayne broke up:
Where foming Steedes, right fearce and raging Steedes
Now marching raise the loose and scatterd dust:
As Sols bright beames, ne Ayre much Azure-like.
Within a space could be discern'd so thicke
This raysed dust obfuscated the light.
The companies asunder parted once,
Do now returne to whence they first were brought,
Where nought is heard among the Souldiers,
But how, the Queene did lately shew her selfe
The only Empresse that on earth hath liu'd.
His foming Steedes within their harnesses
To draw his bright and neuer-darkned lights:
The Captaines of the Campe with all their men
Did from their quarters with their seuerall charge
Come marching to the place prepar'd for Armes,
When thether come was every officer,
A royall battell royally was set
With two most strong and braue Battallians.
The Vangard whereof by the Lord Marshall:
The Reerward by Sir William Knowles was set:
And last the Seriant Maior Generall
The Battell set in like most war-like sort.
Twixt every fight their seuerall troopes of horse,
And two braue troopes did guard the outward Flankes
The Battells set do march in braue aray
Both too and fro the stately Generall,
Who now was come unto the place of Armes
With all her noble and renowned trayned
Where glittering harnesse giues such gleaming lights,
And from those lights reflecteth such a heate,
As Heauen and Earth with Planets greatly feare,
Least Phaeton agayne to Heauen was come,
And had obtain'd to guide his fathers lights.
The trampling horses with their mist-like breath,
Do fill the Ayre with such a sodaine smoake,
As Iupiter did feare least Terra was
New set on fire by that fore-named heate.
The Drommes, the Phiphes, the Trumpets passing shrill,
Do sounded yeeld such marching forward notes,
As Mars himselfe with all his train'd-up men,
In Armes are prest, as if the Goddesse Peace
Were comming now to banish him the field.
23
So ravished our princely Soveraigne,
(Addicted only then to Marshall prowes)
As that she doth (her trayne forbid therefro)
Most bravely mounted on a stately Steede
With Trunchion in her hand (not vs'd thereto)
And with her none, except her Liutenant,
Accompaned with the Lord Chamberlaine,
Come marching towards this her marching fight.
In nought unlike the Amazonian Queene,
Who beating downe amaine the bloodie Greekes,
Thereby to grapple with Achillis stout,
Even at the time when Troy was sore besieg'd.
He had that wight (that thrise puissant wight)
Who well perform'd twelue labors passing straunge,
A brauer grace encountring with his foes,
Then this our Queene in that her marching pace.
Thus comes our Queene (our thrise renowned Queene)
A Generall beseeming such a Campe:
Thus comes our guide, a princely carefull guide,
In war-like sorte to see her warring men,
Who couched had their strong defensiue Pikes,
As if they were to fight at push thereof.
She nigh them come, they pitch their fore-couch'd Pikes,
And she stands still to see the Battell set,
With ioy to see her men to keepe their rankes,
Now Voada once Englands happie Queene,
Through Romans flight by her constrain'd to flie:
Who making way amidst the slaughtered corps,
Pursued her foes with honor of the day
With Vodice her daughter (her too like,
Who urging wounds with constant courage died)
Are now reuiu'd, their vertues liue (I say)
Through this our Queene, now Englands happie Queene.
For they no more did in those actuall deedes,
Thrise famous deedes through Cactes fatall fall,
24
Their Prowes shew, then did our sacred Queene
Here signes display of courage wonderfull.
For when our Queene (an Amazonian Queene)
Most carefully the Vauward had beheld,
She thence doth go the Reerward for to see,
And takes a view of [OMITTED] two strong set Flankes:
At whose by passing, Launce with Pike are bow'd,
And all yeeld reuerence to her sacred selfe.
Her officers with all her Souldiers there,
Do tokens shew of their made-ioyfull hearts.
She giues them thankes as had she done before:
Who nought have done but what their dueties bid.
Her statelines was so with loue-show'd ioyn'd,
As all there then did ioyntly ioy and feare.
They ioy'd in that they see their rulers loue:
But fear'd least that in ought they should offend
Agaynst her selfe, the Goddesse of this land,
Thus causing ioy and feare, she passed thence
With cherefull heart for this her late viewed sight
Unto the Tent of her Liuetenant there:
Were readie were in readines each thing,
Which could be fit to entertayne a Queene.
The Battell set, is soone agayne broke up:
Where foming Steedes, right fearce and raging Steedes
Now marching raise the loose and scatterd dust:
As Sols bright beames, ne Ayre much Azure-like.
Within a space could be discern'd so thicke
This raysed dust obfuscated the light.
The companies asunder parted once,
Do now returne to whence they first were brought,
Where nought is heard among the Souldiers,
But how, the Queene did lately shew her selfe
The only Empresse that on earth hath liu'd.
25
When Phæbus lights were in the middle part
Twixt East and West fast hasting to his home:
Our Soueraigne (our sacred blisfull Queene)
Was readie to depart from out her Campe.
Agaynst whose comming, every Captaine was
There prest to shew themselves in readines,
To do the will of their high Generall.
There might you see most brave and gallant men,
Who lately were beclad in Mars his cloathes,
Inranked then in Court-like costly suites.
Through whom did passe our Queene most Dido-like.
(Whose stately heart doth so abound with love,
As thousand thanks it yeelds unto them all)
To water-side to take her royall Barge.
Amidst the way (which was the outward Ward
Of that her Campe) her Seriant Maior stood
Among those Squadrans which there then did ward.
Her eyes were set so earnestly to view,
As him unseene she would not passe along,
But calls him to her rich-built Couches sides,
And thanking him (as oft before she had)
Did will him do this message from her mouth,
Deliuered with full of wisedome words.
Which that it may not altogether be
(Through unfit words hew'd from a stonie wit)
Obliterated to my utter shame:
Ye sacred Dames, ye seauen-fold Nimphes (I meane)
(Whose thickie groues resound your heauenly words:
Whence every Arte had first their seuerall names)
Be-bathe my temples with those peerl-like droppes
Which fall amaine from that your siluer streame:
That through your ayde my wit now dulled sore,
May quickned be with that your flowing Arte.
Then shall I write in these my lines too rude
Her royall speech(though nothing like her speech)
Which in effect was it that here ensues.
We will them know that now by proofe we see
Their loyall hearts to vs their lawfull Queene.
For sure we are that none beneath the Heauens
Have readier Subiects to defend their right:
Which happines we coumpt to vs as cheefe.
And though of love their dueties craue no lesse,
Yet say to them that we in like regarde,
And estimate of this their dearest zeale,
(If time of neede shall euer call them foorth
To dare in field their fearce and cruell foes)
Wilbe our selfe their noted Generall.
Ne deare at all to vs shalbe our life,
Ne Pallaces or Castles huge of stone
Shall hold as then our presence from their view:
But in the midst and very heart of them,
Bellona-like we meane as then to march;
On common lot of gayne or losse to both,
They well shall see we recke shall then betide.
And as for honor with most large rewards,
Let them not care they common there shalbe:
The meanest man who shall deserue a might,
A mountaine shall for his desart receive.
And this our speach, and this our solemne vowe,
In feruent loue to those our Subiects deare,
Say Seriant Maior, tell them from our selfe,
On Kingly faith we will performe it there.
Which sayd, she bow'd her princely bodie downe,
And passed thence vnto the water-side:
Where once imbarg'd the roring Cannons were
Discharg'd, both those which were on Tilb'rie hill,
And also those which at the Block-house were:
And there euen then the fore-white mant'led Ayre,
From whence the Sunne shed foorth his brightest beames,
Did cloathe it selfe with darke and duskie hue,
And with thick Clowdes bar'd Phæbus gladsome streames
From lightning then the Earth with glorious shew.
It powres foorth showers in great and often droppes,
Signes of the griefe for her departure thence.
And Terra now her Highnesse foot-stoole late,
Refuseth quite those drops desir'd before,
To moysten her dri'd vp and parched parts,
And of her selfe even then she yeelded foorth
Great store of waters from her late-dri'd heart,
Now deeply droun'd for this the parted losse
Of that her sacred and renowned Queene.
But happie Thames (thrise happie at this time)
Turnes backe with speede his lately ebbing course:
He calmes his billowes raging sore before,
And makes it flow with a swift running streame.
And Æolus to him a friendly King,
Recals his boysterous Boreas to his den,
Sent late abroad with such sore thundring blasts
As be the cracks which come, when angrie Ioue
Throwes from his seate his hurtfull Thunder-boults,
Him he tyes up within an hollow caue,
With three link'd chaines with huge and strong-made locks
Least that he should annoy her sacred selfe,
Who now was caried on the riuer Thames.
Twixt East and West fast hasting to his home:
Our Soueraigne (our sacred blisfull Queene)
Was readie to depart from out her Campe.
Agaynst whose comming, every Captaine was
There prest to shew themselves in readines,
To do the will of their high Generall.
There might you see most brave and gallant men,
Who lately were beclad in Mars his cloathes,
Inranked then in Court-like costly suites.
Through whom did passe our Queene most Dido-like.
(Whose stately heart doth so abound with love,
As thousand thanks it yeelds unto them all)
To water-side to take her royall Barge.
Amidst the way (which was the outward Ward
Of that her Campe) her Seriant Maior stood
Among those Squadrans which there then did ward.
Her eyes were set so earnestly to view,
As him unseene she would not passe along,
But calls him to her rich-built Couches sides,
And thanking him (as oft before she had)
Did will him do this message from her mouth,
Deliuered with full of wisedome words.
Which that it may not altogether be
(Through unfit words hew'd from a stonie wit)
Obliterated to my utter shame:
Ye sacred Dames, ye seauen-fold Nimphes (I meane)
(Whose thickie groues resound your heauenly words:
Whence every Arte had first their seuerall names)
Be-bathe my temples with those peerl-like droppes
Which fall amaine from that your siluer streame:
That through your ayde my wit now dulled sore,
May quickned be with that your flowing Arte.
Then shall I write in these my lines too rude
Her royall speech(though nothing like her speech)
Which in effect was it that here ensues.
26
Their loyall hearts to vs their lawfull Queene.
For sure we are that none beneath the Heauens
Have readier Subiects to defend their right:
Which happines we coumpt to vs as cheefe.
And though of love their dueties craue no lesse,
Yet say to them that we in like regarde,
And estimate of this their dearest zeale,
(If time of neede shall euer call them foorth
To dare in field their fearce and cruell foes)
Wilbe our selfe their noted Generall.
Ne deare at all to vs shalbe our life,
Ne Pallaces or Castles huge of stone
Shall hold as then our presence from their view:
But in the midst and very heart of them,
Bellona-like we meane as then to march;
On common lot of gayne or losse to both,
They well shall see we recke shall then betide.
And as for honor with most large rewards,
Let them not care they common there shalbe:
The meanest man who shall deserue a might,
A mountaine shall for his desart receive.
And this our speach, and this our solemne vowe,
In feruent loue to those our Subiects deare,
Say Seriant Maior, tell them from our selfe,
On Kingly faith we will performe it there.
Which sayd, she bow'd her princely bodie downe,
And passed thence vnto the water-side:
Where once imbarg'd the roring Cannons were
Discharg'd, both those which were on Tilb'rie hill,
And also those which at the Block-house were:
And there euen then the fore-white mant'led Ayre,
From whence the Sunne shed foorth his brightest beames,
Did cloathe it selfe with darke and duskie hue,
And with thick Clowdes bar'd Phæbus gladsome streames
From lightning then the Earth with glorious shew.
27
Signes of the griefe for her departure thence.
And Terra now her Highnesse foot-stoole late,
Refuseth quite those drops desir'd before,
To moysten her dri'd vp and parched parts,
And of her selfe even then she yeelded foorth
Great store of waters from her late-dri'd heart,
Now deeply droun'd for this the parted losse
Of that her sacred and renowned Queene.
But happie Thames (thrise happie at this time)
Turnes backe with speede his lately ebbing course:
He calmes his billowes raging sore before,
And makes it flow with a swift running streame.
And Æolus to him a friendly King,
Recals his boysterous Boreas to his den,
Sent late abroad with such sore thundring blasts
As be the cracks which come, when angrie Ioue
Throwes from his seate his hurtfull Thunder-boults,
Him he tyes up within an hollow caue,
With three link'd chaines with huge and strong-made locks
Least that he should annoy her sacred selfe,
Who now was caried on the riuer Thames.
These ioyntly thus conuay our royall Queene
Unto her Pallace by S. Iames his fields;
Where resident her forward Noble men
Do orderly their forwardnes her shew.
There by her gates do every day passe by
Diuers brave troopes of well appoynted horse:
They thether come, triumphant triumphs make,
And bravely runne at Tilt and Turny then,
To shew their prowes to our Goddesse there.
Unto her Pallace by S. Iames his fields;
Where resident her forward Noble men
Do orderly their forwardnes her shew.
There by her gates do every day passe by
Diuers brave troopes of well appoynted horse:
They thether come, triumphant triumphs make,
And bravely runne at Tilt and Turny then,
To shew their prowes to our Goddesse there.
Thus they at home, thus they in Campe who lie
With those who coast upon the narrow Seas.
Do daylie looke, when those our look'd for foes
Will dare to tread, or looke vpon her land.
Who now perchaunce by Captaine Flemmings happe
Descried were, fast sayling hether-ward
With such a Fleete, as neuer bore the Seas
So hugh a Fleete (except this Spanish-fleete.)
Now worthie Haward lodg'd in Plimmouth sound,
Most of the Fleete within the Hauen then,
(By his great care with much inquirie made,)
Receiving notise by the fore-nam'd man,
Brought out the Fleete the same next following night
Into the sound by his incessant toyle.
Although the winde (the hurtfull Sotherne-winde)
Did blow amaine into the Havens mouth:
A wondrous thing, and worthie right to note.
Which done (Aurora putting foorth his head
With wirie lockes, the glimpsing light whereof
Did chase blacke Night unto his darksome cave)
The Generall with all his war-like power
Did hoyst up sayles (yea all their helping sayles)
To meete with that the Spanish late-seene Fleete.
Thus arrow-like they scouring on the Seas,
Are within sight of that long look'd-for Fleete.
Now do they see the Spanyards shippes on heapes,
In al things like a huge and pop'ler towne:
Their bigge-made Barkes with huge and mightie Mastes,
Like Churches are with steeples very high:
Their lesser Shippes like stately Pallaces
Which Princes build to keepe their brave-kept traine:
Their Gallies small, like smaller houses stand,
Inhabited by those which meaner are:
In briefe, they all in nothing are unlike
Unto the Troians stately new-built towne,
Which nought did feare the Greekes bewrong'd by them.
Thus ride these shippes, the Spanish' strong-made shippes,
Which nothing daunt our never-yeelding men,
But makes their hearts (before halfe dead for feare,
Least they would not fullfill the rumor nois'd)
To leape within their bodies new reviv'd
By this the sight of that discerned Fleete.
With those who coast upon the narrow Seas.
28
Will dare to tread, or looke vpon her land.
Who now perchaunce by Captaine Flemmings happe
Descried were, fast sayling hether-ward
With such a Fleete, as neuer bore the Seas
So hugh a Fleete (except this Spanish-fleete.)
Now worthie Haward lodg'd in Plimmouth sound,
Most of the Fleete within the Hauen then,
(By his great care with much inquirie made,)
Receiving notise by the fore-nam'd man,
Brought out the Fleete the same next following night
Into the sound by his incessant toyle.
Although the winde (the hurtfull Sotherne-winde)
Did blow amaine into the Havens mouth:
A wondrous thing, and worthie right to note.
Which done (Aurora putting foorth his head
With wirie lockes, the glimpsing light whereof
Did chase blacke Night unto his darksome cave)
The Generall with all his war-like power
Did hoyst up sayles (yea all their helping sayles)
To meete with that the Spanish late-seene Fleete.
Thus arrow-like they scouring on the Seas,
Are within sight of that long look'd-for Fleete.
Now do they see the Spanyards shippes on heapes,
In al things like a huge and pop'ler towne:
Their bigge-made Barkes with huge and mightie Mastes,
Like Churches are with steeples very high:
Their lesser Shippes like stately Pallaces
Which Princes build to keepe their brave-kept traine:
Their Gallies small, like smaller houses stand,
Inhabited by those which meaner are:
In briefe, they all in nothing are unlike
Unto the Troians stately new-built towne,
Which nought did feare the Greekes bewrong'd by them.
Thus ride these shippes, the Spanish' strong-made shippes,
Which nothing daunt our never-yeelding men,
29
Least they would not fullfill the rumor nois'd)
To leape within their bodies new reviv'd
By this the sight of that discerned Fleete.
Thence swift Disdayne, (disdaining Englands foes)
With worthy Ionas Captaine of her men,
By his three times made famous Generall,
To cry to them for Englands royall Queene.
Was sent forth-with unto the Spanish Fleete.
Where strong Disdayne performed so her part
In that her charge late given to her care,
As all her foes her now attein'd-to foes,
Were halfe strooke dead at that her Captaines tale.
Although for shame they made no show thereof,
But in a bravery by the brave Disdayne,
Do offer fight unto our readie Fleete.
And marvell not why they so forward were,
For Æolus (a full of pitie King)
Perceiving well their dismall comming doome,
Kept in his Winds within their dwelling cave,
The dore thereof fast locked by him-selfe:
And quiet Calme was over all the Seas
To helpe their strength abated very much,
Whereby the Spanyards Gallyes safely might
Rowe too and fro t'indanger us by fight,
The greatest helps they possibly might have
Next God of heaven, who rules and guides both these:
And yet although their strength is quite as great
As is the Fleete which must withstand their blowes,
For that their Ships with chaines together linckt
Did seeme much like a faire and strong-built Towne,
But (as they sayd) ours were but Fisher-boats:
And lastly though King AEolus him-selfe
With Neptunes Calme did are their monstrous Fleete,
Yet (thanks to thee, ô ever-living God,
The God of Gods, a carefull helping God
To those thy Saincts, thy wellbeloved flocke,
Who put their trust in none, but only thee:)
Thy servant Haward through thy mightie power
(The Generall thereof, but too-too bold
In forwardnesse to finish dangerous actes,)
With those his Ships (with them but Fisher-boates)
Be battered the thicke bombasted sides
Of their most strong and tall at fighting Ships,
As most of them did carry messengers
Unto King Neptune ruler of the Seas.
The smaller part which made the greater haste,
Did Triton meete, his thundring Trumpetter,
Who bids them welcome towards his Kings Court,
And asketh them where all their fellowes are.
They like so well of this his Court-like speach,
As ravished they are with these his words,
Which make them turne to fetch their companie,
Who some-what slowe in that their warrant meant,
Were forward sent by Lord high Admirall
And Noble men, made Noble through their déedes.
There might you see the Arke by Rawley built,
With her de ender, Generall of the Fleete,
Put in amaine amongst his thickest foes,
And there and then performed worthily
Such enterprises as he tooke in hand.
And after him for his more safe a-gard,
Came noble Howard then a forward Lord,
In charging there his late triumphing foes:
Lord Sheffild eke though but of tender yeares,
Gave place to none for forwardnesse to fight,
Nor worthie Drake, (no stranger to the Ships
Which Spayne doth owe) was quailed with their sight.
Ne Suthwell sterne, with valiant Frobisher,
Did there stand still to looke upon the fight.
But ioyntly these, with all them present there,
Do prease so sore their now sore weakened foes
(Through five houres fight) as fayne they are to rest
The battered sides of their bombasted Ships
For space of one whole houre, and some-what more.
With worthy Ionas Captaine of her men,
By his three times made famous Generall,
To cry to them for Englands royall Queene.
Was sent forth-with unto the Spanish Fleete.
Where strong Disdayne performed so her part
In that her charge late given to her care,
As all her foes her now attein'd-to foes,
Were halfe strooke dead at that her Captaines tale.
Although for shame they made no show thereof,
But in a bravery by the brave Disdayne,
Do offer fight unto our readie Fleete.
And marvell not why they so forward were,
For Æolus (a full of pitie King)
Perceiving well their dismall comming doome,
Kept in his Winds within their dwelling cave,
The dore thereof fast locked by him-selfe:
And quiet Calme was over all the Seas
To helpe their strength abated very much,
Whereby the Spanyards Gallyes safely might
Rowe too and fro t'indanger us by fight,
The greatest helps they possibly might have
Next God of heaven, who rules and guides both these:
And yet although their strength is quite as great
As is the Fleete which must withstand their blowes,
For that their Ships with chaines together linckt
Did seeme much like a faire and strong-built Towne,
But (as they sayd) ours were but Fisher-boats:
And lastly though King AEolus him-selfe
With Neptunes Calme did are their monstrous Fleete,
The God of Gods, a carefull helping God
To those thy Saincts, thy wellbeloved flocke,
Who put their trust in none, but only thee:)
Thy servant Haward through thy mightie power
(The Generall thereof, but too-too bold
In forwardnesse to finish dangerous actes,)
With those his Ships (with them but Fisher-boates)
Be battered the thicke bombasted sides
Of their most strong and tall at fighting Ships,
As most of them did carry messengers
Unto King Neptune ruler of the Seas.
The smaller part which made the greater haste,
Did Triton meete, his thundring Trumpetter,
Who bids them welcome towards his Kings Court,
And asketh them where all their fellowes are.
They like so well of this his Court-like speach,
As ravished they are with these his words,
Which make them turne to fetch their companie,
Who some-what slowe in that their warrant meant,
Were forward sent by Lord high Admirall
And Noble men, made Noble through their déedes.
There might you see the Arke by Rawley built,
With her de ender, Generall of the Fleete,
Put in amaine amongst his thickest foes,
And there and then performed worthily
Such enterprises as he tooke in hand.
And after him for his more safe a-gard,
Came noble Howard then a forward Lord,
In charging there his late triumphing foes:
Lord Sheffild eke though but of tender yeares,
Gave place to none for forwardnesse to fight,
Nor worthie Drake, (no stranger to the Ships
Which Spayne doth owe) was quailed with their sight.
Ne Suthwell sterne, with valiant Frobisher,
Did there stand still to looke upon the fight.
Do prease so sore their now sore weakened foes
(Through five houres fight) as fayne they are to rest
The battered sides of their bombasted Ships
For space of one whole houre, and some-what more.
That time expir'd they fight afresh againe,
And ioyntly meete before the Isle of Wight,
Where then began a fierce and greater fight.
There Musket-shot discharg'd of either Fleete,
Did fall like haile into the raging Seas.
There Crosse-barres flew most liberally bestowed,
Which brake the sides of their late battered Ships:
And there was cast against each others foe,
A thousand balles of wild-fire mercilesse,
By which were sent great store of Spanish Ships,
To follow those that were to Neptune gone.
And least the first should troubled be too sore,
In comming backe to fetch this late-sent traine,
These meete with them halfe-way (their look'd-for friends)
Whence all make hast unto King Neptunes Court,
Where they do finde such pleasant pleasing friends,
As neare they'l to King Phillips Pallace turne.
A world it is to see what messengers
They send to shew in what estate they stand,
For Spanish-felts with Spanyards dearest bloud
Becheckereth the Sea with black and red,
As there no white could possibly be seene.
Don Pedro with his Ship and company
Did like so ill (the cause I know not why)
Of that the newes these messengers did bring,
As they do better Englands bondage like,
Then Neptunes Court from whence these lately came.
The other Ships in better case then his,
Do neither like their state; ne yet his choise,
But thinke it best to trust unto their heeles.
Wherefore they hoise up all their Sayles at once,
And take their way to Callice Haven, whereas
They lye at Rode, with often wishes that
They were againe in Spayne from whence they came.
Ours not farre off, do rest their toyled corps
Sore overchargd by too-too forwardnes
In prosequting their late quailed foes.
Where for their déedes, their well-perfourmed déedes,
Lord Thomas Haward, with the Sheffild Lord,
And Roger Towns-end forward in those warres,
With Martin Frobisher (not a little knowne,)
Most worthie Gentells newly entertain'd,
By mighty Mauors, from Bellona Ouéene,
Receiv'd from her the gift of Knighthood there.
And ioyntly meete before the Isle of Wight,
Where then began a fierce and greater fight.
There Musket-shot discharg'd of either Fleete,
Did fall like haile into the raging Seas.
There Crosse-barres flew most liberally bestowed,
Which brake the sides of their late battered Ships:
And there was cast against each others foe,
A thousand balles of wild-fire mercilesse,
By which were sent great store of Spanish Ships,
To follow those that were to Neptune gone.
And least the first should troubled be too sore,
In comming backe to fetch this late-sent traine,
These meete with them halfe-way (their look'd-for friends)
Whence all make hast unto King Neptunes Court,
Where they do finde such pleasant pleasing friends,
As neare they'l to King Phillips Pallace turne.
A world it is to see what messengers
They send to shew in what estate they stand,
For Spanish-felts with Spanyards dearest bloud
Becheckereth the Sea with black and red,
As there no white could possibly be seene.
Don Pedro with his Ship and company
Did like so ill (the cause I know not why)
Of that the newes these messengers did bring,
As they do better Englands bondage like,
Then Neptunes Court from whence these lately came.
The other Ships in better case then his,
Do neither like their state; ne yet his choise,
Wherefore they hoise up all their Sayles at once,
And take their way to Callice Haven, whereas
They lye at Rode, with often wishes that
They were againe in Spayne from whence they came.
Ours not farre off, do rest their toyled corps
Sore overchargd by too-too forwardnes
In prosequting their late quailed foes.
Where for their déedes, their well-perfourmed déedes,
Lord Thomas Haward, with the Sheffild Lord,
And Roger Towns-end forward in those warres,
With Martin Frobisher (not a little knowne,)
Most worthie Gentells newly entertain'd,
By mighty Mauors, from Bellona Ouéene,
Receiv'd from her the gift of Knighthood there.
Which deede performed, England was not slacke
In trying meanes which might anoy her foes.
For presently a wondrous Stratageme
Did then ensue, by her in practise put.
For certaine Ships of our worst English Ships,
By Lord, Charles Haward worthy Generall
Commanded, were forth-with then set on fire:
Which driven thence through a swift running streame
Did fall among the Spanyards roding-Ships.
At which strange sight they so astonied were,
As they reioic'd that could the Cables cut,
Which fastned were unto their Anchors cast.
This sudden maze which nothing setled wits,
Were chiefest cause of this their second baine:
For then each Ship on others cables foule:
And runne on rocks to their ensuing losse:
They hoist up Sailes, and as they thether came
So hye they fast unto the Northerne Seas:
These thus in flight are chased very sore
By Generall of this our conquering Fleete:
Who Lion-like (sufficed nere ynough
With Honors lawd) pursues his flying foes.
And Comberland a wondrous forward Earle
But new imbarkt, attayning to this flight
Did shew himselfe, and shewing made them feele
His power, not felt before of Spanyards.
What shall I say, or what could that her Fleete
Performe in better sorte then there was done.
Their Spanish foes with all that conquered Fleete
(Although they sayd that English-land was theirs:
And therefore when they first received word
That then but thirtie little English Boates
Could be descri'd, cried oft Victoria)
Are sunke, are drown'd, are burnt with Englands fire,
And grounded lye before the French-townes Haven.
The rest (even then remayning weakly) sayle
They know not whether, guided by their Fate,
Now chased farre beyond this Islands bounds.
Our little Fleete, our famous Generall
Doth shame to follow them that will not fight,
And therefore turnes his course unto his charge,
Still sayling with an happie Sotherne-winde
Attaines unto the same the Narrow Seas:
Where setting every thing in needfull sort,
Left then the Fleete and hasted to the Court
Of his thrise sacred Soveraigne our Queene:
Whose welcome thether was as his desarts
And famous deedes performed, had deserv'd.
In trying meanes which might anoy her foes.
For presently a wondrous Stratageme
Did then ensue, by her in practise put.
For certaine Ships of our worst English Ships,
By Lord, Charles Haward worthy Generall
Commanded, were forth-with then set on fire:
Which driven thence through a swift running streame
Did fall among the Spanyards roding-Ships.
At which strange sight they so astonied were,
As they reioic'd that could the Cables cut,
Which fastned were unto their Anchors cast.
This sudden maze which nothing setled wits,
Were chiefest cause of this their second baine:
For then each Ship on others cables foule:
And runne on rocks to their ensuing losse:
They hoist up Sailes, and as they thether came
So hye they fast unto the Northerne Seas:
These thus in flight are chased very sore
Who Lion-like (sufficed nere ynough
With Honors lawd) pursues his flying foes.
And Comberland a wondrous forward Earle
But new imbarkt, attayning to this flight
Did shew himselfe, and shewing made them feele
His power, not felt before of Spanyards.
What shall I say, or what could that her Fleete
Performe in better sorte then there was done.
Their Spanish foes with all that conquered Fleete
(Although they sayd that English-land was theirs:
And therefore when they first received word
That then but thirtie little English Boates
Could be descri'd, cried oft Victoria)
Are sunke, are drown'd, are burnt with Englands fire,
And grounded lye before the French-townes Haven.
The rest (even then remayning weakly) sayle
They know not whether, guided by their Fate,
Now chased farre beyond this Islands bounds.
Our little Fleete, our famous Generall
Doth shame to follow them that will not fight,
And therefore turnes his course unto his charge,
Still sayling with an happie Sotherne-winde
Attaines unto the same the Narrow Seas:
Where setting every thing in needfull sort,
Left then the Fleete and hasted to the Court
Of his thrise sacred Soveraigne our Queene:
Whose welcome thether was as his desarts
And famous deedes performed, had deserv'd.
Our gracious Queene (for this Gods mercie shew'd
To her, her land, through conquest over them,
Who came to seeke her death, and death of those
Who stedfast are unto his holie word)
Doth yeeld him thankes devoutly on her knees,
And wills her Subiects throughout all her land
To fast and pray for this his providence.
But Sixtus quintus Pope of whorish Rome,
Hath lost his Bulls, and hath his Souldiers lost
With credit crackt, and all in eighty eight.
And well I wit, what was the cause thereof,
Belike his Saints, him-selfe, and Cardinals,
With Friers, Monks, and Seminarie Priests,
Were all at Dice for Englands peoples goodes,
And quite forgot to fall to morning Masse.
Or otherwise, they told their Beades so oft,
And said so many Mattins to their gods,
(Their wodden gods,) as that they fell asléepe,
And so left off to persevere in prayers;
Whereby their Saints at that time sleepie too,
Did like-wise nod, and sued not to their gods.
Or lastly thus (which likest is of all,)
His Silver scant, where-by his Crosses few,
And holy-water niggardly bestowed,
Did scarsly blesse his Souldyers going forth:
For which hard dearth the God of heaven (our God)
Did wash them all with-in his hallowed Seas,
Where plentie is of water like the Popes.
By which, (as by his goodnesse ever shewed
To England, where his little flocke remaines,
With alwayes losse unto the haplesse Pope)
His holynesse, with all deceiv'd by him,
Or instruments he to that end hath sent,
May now confesse with sore repenting heart,
That long ynough they all provoked have
Our loving God, to never ceasing ire.
But if his Father Belzebub that féend
Hath bound the Pope so to his damned lore,
As that he cannot turne unto the Lord:
Yet English-men Recusants, (ah I greeve
To tearme ye so because my Countrey-men,)
Despise his déedes, (his méere deceiptfull deedes,)
And turne your hearts unto your sacred Queene:
And with your Queene beloved of our God,
Turne to Gods word, and shunne the divelish Pope.
So God will ioy in this his little flocke,
And blesse this Land with still increasing store,
Where-as he now like to a naturall Sire
Weeps over it, as once he shedded teares,
When that he sawe Ierusalem he lov'd.
Which (heavenly God) with three-fold Nestors yeares
Given to our Queene, to Englands ever ioy,
Fullfill (I pray) with such convenient speede,
As shall seeme good unto thy holy will.
To her, her land, through conquest over them,
Who came to seeke her death, and death of those
Who stedfast are unto his holie word)
Doth yeeld him thankes devoutly on her knees,
To fast and pray for this his providence.
But Sixtus quintus Pope of whorish Rome,
Hath lost his Bulls, and hath his Souldiers lost
With credit crackt, and all in eighty eight.
And well I wit, what was the cause thereof,
Belike his Saints, him-selfe, and Cardinals,
With Friers, Monks, and Seminarie Priests,
Were all at Dice for Englands peoples goodes,
And quite forgot to fall to morning Masse.
Or otherwise, they told their Beades so oft,
And said so many Mattins to their gods,
(Their wodden gods,) as that they fell asléepe,
And so left off to persevere in prayers;
Whereby their Saints at that time sleepie too,
Did like-wise nod, and sued not to their gods.
Or lastly thus (which likest is of all,)
His Silver scant, where-by his Crosses few,
And holy-water niggardly bestowed,
Did scarsly blesse his Souldyers going forth:
For which hard dearth the God of heaven (our God)
Did wash them all with-in his hallowed Seas,
Where plentie is of water like the Popes.
By which, (as by his goodnesse ever shewed
To England, where his little flocke remaines,
With alwayes losse unto the haplesse Pope)
His holynesse, with all deceiv'd by him,
Or instruments he to that end hath sent,
May now confesse with sore repenting heart,
That long ynough they all provoked have
Our loving God, to never ceasing ire.
But if his Father Belzebub that féend
Hath bound the Pope so to his damned lore,
As that he cannot turne unto the Lord:
Yet English-men Recusants, (ah I greeve
To tearme ye so because my Countrey-men,)
And turne your hearts unto your sacred Queene:
And with your Queene beloved of our God,
Turne to Gods word, and shunne the divelish Pope.
So God will ioy in this his little flocke,
And blesse this Land with still increasing store,
Where-as he now like to a naturall Sire
Weeps over it, as once he shedded teares,
When that he sawe Ierusalem he lov'd.
Which (heavenly God) with three-fold Nestors yeares
Given to our Queene, to Englands ever ioy,
Fullfill (I pray) with such convenient speede,
As shall seeme good unto thy holy will.
FINIS
| Elizabetha triumphans | |