192. Then whether I be one of Haughty harte, Or Greedy minde, or Miser in decay,

I sayde and say that for mine owne poore parte,
I may confesse that Bellum euery way,

Is Sweete: but how? (beare well my woordes away)
Forsooth, to such as neuer did it trie,
This is my Theame I cannot chaunge it I.

PERORATIO.

193. O noble Queene, 57 whose high foresight prouides,

That wast of warre, your realmes doth not destroye,
But pleasaunt peace, and quiet concord glydes,
In euery coast, to driue out darke anoye,
O vertuous dame, I say Pardonez moy,
That I presume in worthlesse verse to warne,
Thambitious Prince, his dueties to descerne.

194. Your skilfull minde (O Queene without compare)

Can soone conceyue that cause constraynes me so, Since wicked warres haue bredde such cruell care, In Flaunders, Fraunce, in Spaine and many mo, Which reape thereby none other worth but wo: Whiles you (meane while) enioy the fruites of peace, Still praysing God, whose bounties neuer cease.

195. If you (my liege) vouchsafe in gratious wise, To pardon that which passeth from my Muse, Then care I not what other kings deuise, In warres defense: nor though they me accuse, And say that I their bloudie deedes abuse: Your onely grace my soueraigne Lady be, Let other Kings thinke what they list of me.

196. And you my Lordes 58 to whome I dueties owe, And beare such loue as best becommeth me, First Earle of Bedford, whome I right well know, To honour armes: and woorthie Warwyke he, In whose good grace I couet sore to be: Then Leyster next, (Sussex not set behinde) And worthy Essex men of noble minde.

197. Yong Oxenford as toward as the best,
Northumberland, and Ormount woorthy prayse,
Lyncolne, Kildare, and Worster with the rest
Of noble Earles, which hold your happy dayes
In high renowme, as men of warre alwayes:
With others mo to many to recite,
Vouchsafe my Lordes to pardone that I write.

198. Of Wilton Grey (to whome these rimes I wrote)
With all the Barons bold of English soyle,
I humbly craue that it may be forgotte,
Although my Muze haue seemde to keepe a coyle
With mighty men which put the weake to foyle:
I ment not you since, by your deedes appeares,
You rule with right, like wise and worthy peares.

200. Beare with my verse, and thinke I ment not you, Whereas I spake of pride in Prelacie,

But let it bide euen there where first it grew,
Till God vouchsafe to quench hipocrisie,
Which by pretence to punish heresie,

Doth conquere realmes, and common concords breake,
You know my mind, I neede no playner speake.

201. You gemmes of Justice, chiefe of either bench, 60 And he that keepes hir Maiesties great seale, Good Queenes attorney, he whose pitties quench (I say sometimes) the rigour of his zeale, When miserie, to mercy must apeale, And Sergeant Louelace, many ways my friend, As I haue found (yet let me there not end,)

202. But hold my tale to Rugge and all the rest Of good Grayes Inne, where honest Yeluerton, And I Per se sometimes yfeere did rest, When amitie first in our brests begonne, Which shall endure as long as any Sunne May shine on earth, or water swimme in Seas, Let not my verse your lawlike minds displease,

203. For well wot you, our master Christ himselfe, Which had but twelue Apostles in his trayne, Had Iudas yet, which solde for worldly pelfe Our Sauiour: this text is true and playne: And when so many Lawyers do remayne, There may be some although that you be none, Which breede debate and loue to cast a bone.

204. In Chancerie I neede no man suspect, Since conscience, in that court beareth sway, Yet in the same I may no wayes neglect, Nor worthy Powle, nor Cordell by the way, Of whome that one, is of my keepe the keye, That other once did lende me such aduise, As was both sounde and good, had I bene wise.

205. He tolde me once, (I beare it well in minde, And shall it nay forget whyles lyfe doth last) That harde it is a noble name to finde, In such attempts as then in seruice past: Beleue me now I founde his wordes no blast, Wherfore I pray both him and his compeere, To beare with that which I haue written heere.

206. And as for Merchants, 61 though I finde the Hard harted men and compting cunningly, [most Yet Albany shall thinke I do not boast In rayling wise: for sure his curtesie, Constreynes me now to prayse him worthely. And gentle Rowe with Luntlye 6 make me say, That many Merchaunts beare euen what they may.

207. But to conclude, I meane no more but thus, In all estates some one may treade awrye, And he that list my verses to discusse, Shall see I ment no more, but modestly To warne the wise, that they such faults do flie As put downe peace by couine or debate, Since warre and strife bryng wo to euery state.

And when thou commest where Soldiers seeme to wend,

Submit thy selfe as writte but little woorth:
Confesse withall, that thou hast bene too bolde,
To speak so plaine of Haughtie hartes in place,
And say that he which wrote thee coulde haue tolde
Full many a tale, of blouds that were not base:
He coulde haue writte Dan Dudleyes noble deedes,
Whose like hath since bene harde on earth to finde,
Although his Vertue shewes it selfe in Seedes,
Which treade his tracks, and come not farre behinde.
He might haue sung of Grey the woorthie prayse,
Whose ofspring holdes the honor of his sire:
He coulde declare what Wallop was alwayes,
What Awdelie seemde, what Randell did require.
He coulde say what desertes in Drewrie be,
In Reade, in Bryckwell, and a meany moe:
But bashfulnesse did make him blush, least he
Should but eclypse their fames by singing so.
Suffiseth this, that still he honors those
Which wade in warres to get a woorthie name,
And least esteemes the grecdie snudge, which goes
To gayne good golde, without respecte of fame.
And for the thirde sorte, those that in dystresse
Do driue their dayes, till drummes do draw them out,
He coumpts him selfe to bee nor more nor lesse,
But euen the same: for sure withouten doubt,
If drummes once sounde a lustie martch in deede,
Then farewell bookes, for he will trudge with speede.

FINIS.

Tam Marti quàm Mercurio. corected, perfected, and finished.

Who soeuer is desirous to reade this proposicion more at large and cunningly handled, let him but peruse the Prouerbe or adage it self in the first Centurian of the fourth Chyllyade of that famouse Clarke Erasmus Roterodamus: the whiche is there also Entituled: Dulce bellum inexpertis.

GASCOIGNES GARDNINGS,

WHEREOF WERE WRITTEN IN ONE END OF A CLOSE
WALKE WHICHE HE HATH IN HIS GARDEN, THIS
DISCOURSE FOLLOWING.

THE figure of this world I can compare,
To Garden plots, and such like pleasaunt places,
The world breedes men of sundry shape and share,
As hearbes in gardens, grow of sundry graces:
Some good, some bad, some amiable faces,
Some foule, some gentle, some of froward mind,
Subiect like bloome, to blast of euery wind.

And as you see the floures most fresh of hew, That they proue not alwayes the holesomest, So fayrest men are not alwayes found true : But euen as withred weedes fall from the rest, So flatterers fall naked from their neast: When truth hath tried, their painting tising tale, They loose their glosse, and all their iests seeme stale.

Yet some do present pleasure most esteeme, Till beames of brauerie wither all their welth, And some agayne there be can rightly deeme, Those herbes for best, which may mainteine their helth.

Considering well, that age drawes on by stelth,

Why staye I long to ende a wofull tale?
We trust his Dutch, and vp the foresayle goes,
We fall on knees amyd the happy gale,
(Which by Gods will full kynd, and calmely blowes)
And vnto him we there vnfolde our bale,
Whereon to thinke I wryte and weepe for ioye,
That pleasant song the hundreth and seuenth Psalme,
There dyd we reade to comfort our annoye,
Which to my soule (me thought) was sweete as
balme,

Yea farre more sweete than any worldly toye.
And when he had with prayers praysd the Lord,
Our Edell Bloetts 0, gan fall to eate and drinke,
And for their sauce, at takyng vp the borde
The shippe so strake (as all we thought to sinke)
Against the ground. Then all with one accorde
We fell againe on knees to pray apace,
And therewithall euen at the second blowe,
(The number cannot from my minde outpace)
Our helme strake of, and we must fleete and flowe,
Where winde and waues would guide vs by their

grace.

The winde waxt calme as I haue sayde before.
(O mightie God so didst thou swage our woes)
The selly shippe was sowst and smitten sore,
With counter buffetts, blowes and double blowes.
At last the keele which might endure no more,
Gan rende in twayne and suckt the water in :
Then might you see pale lookes and wofull cheare,
Then might you heare loude cries and deadly dinne:
Well noble minds in perils best appeare,
And boldest harts in bale will neuer blinne.
For there were some (of whome I will not say
That I was one) which neuer changed hew,
But pumpt apace, and labord euery way
To saue themselues, and all their louely crew,
Which cast the best fraight ouerboorde away,
Both corne and cloth, and all that was of weight.
Which halde and pulde at euery helping corde,
Which prayed to God and made their conscience
streight.

As for my self: I here protest my Lorde,
My words were these: O God in heauen on height,
Behold me not as now a wicked wight,
A sacke of sinne, a wretch ywrapt in wroth,
Let no fault past (O Lord) offende thy sight,
But weye my will which now those faults doth lothe,
And of thy mercy pittie this our plight.
Euen thou good God which of thy grace didst saye
That for one good, thou wouldst all Sodome saue,
Behold vs all: thy shyning beames displaye,
Some here (I trust) thy goodnesse shall engraue,
To be chast vessels vnto thee alwaye,
And so to liue in honour of thy name :
Beleue me Lord, thus to the Lord I sayde.
But there were some (alas the more their blame)
Which in the pumpe their onely comfort layde,
And trusted that to turne our griefe to game.
Alas (quod I) our pumpe good God must be,
Our sayle, our sterne, our tackling, and our trust.
Some other cried to cleare the shipboate free,
To saue the chiefe and leaue the rest in dust.
Which word once spoke (a wondrous thing to see)
All hast post hast, was made to haue it done :
And vp it commes in hast much more than speede.
There did I see a wofull worke begonne, [bleede.
Which now (euen now) doth make my hart to
Some made such hast that in the boate they wonne,
Before it was aboue the hatches brought.
10 Lusty gallants.

[out.

Straunge tale to tell, what hast some men shall make
To find their death before the same be sought.
Some twixt the boate and shippe their bane do take,
Both drownd and slayne with braynes for hast crusht
At last the boat halfe fraighted in the aire
Is hoyst alofte, and on the seas downe set,
When I that yet in God could not dispaire,
Still plide the pumpe, and patiently did let
All such take boate as thither made repaire.
And herewithall I safely may protest

I might haue wonne the boate as wel as one,
And had that seemed a safetie for the rest
I should percase euen with the first haue gone.
But when I saw the boate was ouer prest
And pestred full with moe than it might beare,
And therwithall with cherefull looke might see
My chiefe companions 11 whome I held most deare
(Whose companie had thither trained me)
Abiding still aboorde our shippe yfeare :
Nay then (quoth I) good God thy will be done,
For with my feeres I will both liue and dye.
And eare the boate farre from our sight was gon
The waue so wrought, that they (which thought to
And so to scape) with waues were ouerronne. [flee
Lo how he striues in vaine that striues with God
For there we lost the flowre of the band,
And of our crew full twentie soules and odde,
The Sea sucks vp, whils we on hatches stand
In smarting feare to feele that selfe same rodde.
Well on (as yet) our battred barke did passe,
And brought the rest within a myle of lande,
Then thought I sure now neede not I to passe,
For I can swymme and so escape this sande.
Thus dyd I deeme all carelesse like an Asse,
When sodaynely the wynde our foresayle tooke,
And turnd about and brought vs eft to Seas.
Then cryed we all, cast out the ancor hooke,
And here let byde such helpe as God may please:
Which ancor cast, we soone the same forsooke,
And cut it off, for feare least therevpon
Our shippe should bowge, then callde we fast for fire,
And so dischargde our great gunnes euerychone,
To warne the towne thereby of our desire:
But all in vayne, for succor sent they none.
At last a Hoy from Sea came flinging fast,
And towards vs helde course as streight as lyne.
Then might you see our hands to heauen vp cast
To render thanks vnto the power deuine,
That so vouchsafte to saue vs yet at last :
But when this Hoy gan (welneere) boorde our barke,
And might perceiue what peryll we were in,
It turnd away and left vs still in carke, 12
This tale is true (for now to lie were sin)
It lefte vs there in dreade and daungers darke.
It lefte vs so, and that within the sight
And hearing both of all the peare at Breyll.
Now ply thee pen, and paint the foule despite
Of drunken Dutchmen standing there euen still,
For whom we came in their cause for to fight,
For whom we came their state for to defende,
For whom we came as friends to grieue their foes,
They now disdaynd (in this distresse) to lend
One helping boate for to asswage our woes :
They sawe our harmes the which they would not

mend,

That on the peare (lamenting our mysease)

Some Englishe were, whose naked swordes did force
The drunken Dutch, the cankred churles to come,
And so at last (not moued by remorce,
But forst by feare) they sent vs succor some:
Some must I say: and for to tell the course,
They sent vs succor saust with sowre despite,
They saued our liues and spoylde vs of the rest,
They stale our goods by day and eke by night,
They shewed the worst and closely kept the best.
And in this time (this treason must I wryte)
Our Pylot fled, but how? not emptie handed:
He fled from vs, and with him did conueye

A Hoy full fraught (whiles we meane while were landed)

With pouder, shotte, and all our best araye :
This skill he had, for all he set vs sanded.
And now my Lord, declare your noble mynde,
Was this a Pylot, or a Pilate iudge?

Or rather was he not of Iudas kynde :

14

Which left vs thus and close away could trudge?
Well, at the Bryell to tell you what we finde,
The Gouernour was all bedewed with drinke,
His truls and he were all layde downe to sleepe,
And we must shift, and of our selues must thinke
What meane was best, and how we best might keepe
That yet remaynd: the rest was close in clinke.
Well, on our knees with trickling teares of ioye,
We gaue God thanks: and as we might, did learne
What might be founde in euery pynke '4 and hoye.
And thus my Lord, your honour may descerne
Our perils past, and how in our anoye
God saued me (your Lordshippes bound for euer)
Who else should not be able now to tell,
The state wherein this countrey doth perseuer,
Ne how they seeme in carelesse mindes to dwell,
(So did they earst and so they will do euer)
And to my Lord for to bewray my minde
Me thinkes they be a race of Bulbeefe borne,
Whose hartes their Butter mollyfieth by kinde,
And so the force of beefe is cleane outworne:
And eke their braines with double beere are lynde :
So that they march bumbast with buttred beere,
Like soppes of browesse puffed vp with froth,
Where inwardely they be but hollowe geere,
As weake as winde, which with one puffe vp goeth:
And yet they bragge, and thinke they haue no peere,
Bicause Harlem hath hitherto helde out,
Although in deed (as they haue suffred Spayne)
The ende thereof euen now doth rest in doubt.
Well, as for that, let it (for me) remaine

In God his hands, whose hand hath brought me out,
To tell my Lord this tale nowe tane in hande,
As howe they traine their trezons all in drinke,
And when them selues for drunk can scarcely
stande,

Yet sucke out secretes (as them selues do thinke)
From guests. The best (almost) in all their lande,
(I name no man, for that were brode before)
Will (as men say) enure the same sometime,
But surely this (or I mistake him sore)
Or else he can (but let it passe in rime)
Dissemble deepe, and mocke sometimes the more:
Well, drunkennesse is here good companie,
And therewithall per consequens it falles
That whordome is accompted iollitie :
A gentle state, where two suche Tenisballes
Are tossed still and better bowles let lie.

13 A small bote.

I cannot herewith from my Lord conceale,
How God and Mammon here do dwell yfeare,
And how the Masse is cloked vnder veale
Of pollicie, till all the coast be cleare.
Ne can I chuse, but I must ring a peale,
To tell what hypocrytes the Nunnes here be;
And how the olde Nunnes be content to go,
Before a man in streates like mother B,
Untill they come wheras there dwels a Ho,
(Receyue that halfe, and let the rest go free)
There can they poynt with finger as they passe,
Yea sir, sometimes they can come in themselfe,
To strike the bergaine tweene a wanton lasse,
And Edel bloets: nowe is not this good pelfe?
As for the yong Nunnes, they be bright as glasse,
And chaste forsooth, met v: and anders niet:
What sayde I? what? that is a misterie,
I may no verse of such a theame endite,
Yong Rowland Yorke may tell it bet than I:
Yet to my Lorde this little will I write,
That though I haue (my selfe) no skill at all,
To take the countnance of a Colonel,
Had I a good Lieutenant general,

As good Iohn Zuche whereuer that he dwel,
Or else Ned Dennye (faire mought him befal)
I coulde haue brought a noble regiment
Of smugskinnde Nunnes into my countrey soyle:
But farewell they as things impertinent,
Let them (for me) go dwell with master Moyle,
Who hath behight to place them well in Kent.
And I shall well my sillie selfe content,
To come alone vnto my louely Lorde,
And vnto him (when riming sporte is spent)
To tel some sadde and reasonable worde,
Of Hollandes state, the which I will present,
In Cartes, in Mappes, and eke in Models made,
If God of heauen my purpose not preuent.
And in meane while although my wits do wade
In ranging rime, and fling some follie foorth,
I trust my Lorde will take it well in woorth.
Haud ictus sapio.

THE STEELE GLAS.

THE Nightingale, whose happy noble hart,
No dole can daunt, nor feareful force affright,
Whose chereful voice, doth comfort saddest wights,
When she hir self, hath little cause to sing,
Whom louers loue, bicause she plaines their greues,
She wraies their woes, and yet relieues their payne,
Whom worthy mindes, alwayes esteemed much,
And grauest yeares, haue not disdainde his notes:
(Only that king proud Tereus by his name
With murdring knife, did carue hir pleasant tong,
To couer so, his owne foule filthy fault)
This worthy bird, hath taught my weary Muze,
To sing a song, in spight of their despight,
Which worke my woe, withouten cause or crime,
And make my backe, a ladder for their feete,
By slaundrous steppes, and stayres of tickle talke
To clime the throne, wherin my selfe should sitte.
O Philomene, then help me now to chaunt:
And if dead beastes, or living byrdes have ghosts,
Which can conceiue the cause of carefull mone,
When wrong triumphes, and right is ouertrodde,
Then helpe me now, O byrd of gentle bloud,
In barrayne verse, to tell a frutefull tale,