is but his minde A discourse of the true steps of manhood A discourse of the honor of a Souldior A discours of an olde Souldier and a yong A discourse and commeÌ„dation of those that can make Golde A discourse and rebuke to rebellious mindes A discourse of hospitalitie and consuming of time and wealth in London A discourse of misfortune and calamitie A discourse of law and worthy Lawyers A discourse of the only Phenix of the worlde A praise of that Phenix and verses translated out of French The tragedy of Shores wife much augmented A discourse of the ioy good subiects haue when they see our Phenix abroad The tragicall discourse of the haplesse mans life The adue the writer made long agoe to the worlde A discourse of a fantasticall Dreame A tragicall discourse of a dolorous Gentlewoman A tragicall discourse of a Lord and a Lady translated out of French I hope you look not that I should place euery Knight Lady in their degree for I must of necessitie follow my matter The bookes that I can call to memorie alreadie Printed are these that followes FIrst in King Edwards daies a book named Dauie Dicars dreame which one Camell wrote against whome I openly confuted Shores wise I penned at that season Another booke in those daies called the Mirror of Man In Queene Maries raigne a book called a new-New-yeares gift to all England which booke treated of rebellion And many things in the booke of songs and Sonets printed then were of my making Since that time till this day I wrote all these workes The booke of Chips dedicated to sir Christopher Hatton after Lord Chancellor The booke called Chance dedicated to sir Thomas Bromley L. Chancellor then The booke called my Charge to my L. of Surrye The booke called my Change in verse and proes dedicated to all good mindes The booke called my Choice dedicated to the L. Chancellor sir Christopher Hatton The book of the siege of Leeth and Edenbrough Castell The booke of sir William Druries seruice dedicated to sir Drue Drury The booke called the golden Nut dedicated to the Qu. Ma. The book of receiuing her highnes into Suffolk Norfolke The booke before of her highnes receiuing into Bristow The booke of the Earthquake to the good Deane of Paules The book of the troubles of Flanders to sir Francis Walsing The book called the scourge of rebels in Ireland to my Lord Admirall The booke called a rebuke to Rebellion to the good olde Earle of Bedford The book of a Sparke of freendship to sir Walter Rawley The book of Sorrows to D. Wilson when he was Secretary The booke of the winning of Macklin to my Lord Norrice The book called the Worthines of Wales to the Qu. Ma. The book giuen her Maiestie at Bristow where I made al the whole deuises The deuises of warre and a play at Awsterley her highnes being at sir Thomas Greshams The Commedy before her Maiestie at Norwich in the fielde when she went to dinner to my Lady Gerningâ—ms The whole deuises pastimes and plaies at Norwich before her maiestie The deuises and speeches that men and boyes shewed within many prograces The book of King Henries Epitaph and other princes and Lords to Secretary Wolley The book of my Deer adue to M. Iohn Stannop The book called a handfull of gladsome verses to the Qu. M. at Wodstocke The book called a pleasant coâ—ceite a new yeeres gift to the Queenes Maiestie These workes following are gotten from me of some such noble freends as I am loath to offend Aeneas tale to Dydo largely and truely translated out of Virgill which I once shewed the Qu. Ma. and had it againe A book of the oath of a Iudge and the honor of Law deliuered to a Stacioner who sent it the L. cheefe Baron that last dyed A book of a sumptuous shew in Shrouetide by sir Walter Rawley sir Robart Carey M. Chidly and M. Arthur Gorge in which book was the whole seruice of my L. of Lester mencioned that he and his traine did in Flaunders and the gentlemen Pencioners proued to be a great peece of honor to the Court all which book was in as good verse as euer I made an honorable knight dwelling in the black Friers can witnes the same because I read it vnto him A great peece of work translated out of the great learned French Poet Seignior Dubartas which worke treated of a Lady and an Eagle most diuinely written on by Dubartas and giuen by me to a great Lord of this land who saith it is lost An infinite number of other Songes and Sonets giuen where they cannot be recouered nor purchase any fauour when they are craued A new kinde of a Sonnet IN writing long and reading works of warre That Homer wrote and Virgils verse did show My muse me led in ouerweening farre When to their Stiles my pen presumde to goe Ouid himselfe durst not haue vaunted so Nor Petrarke graue with Homer would compare Dawnt durst not think his sence so hye did flow As Virgils works that yet much honord are Thus each man sawe his iudgement hye or low And would not striue or seeke to make a iarre Or wrastle where they haue an ouerthrow So I that finde the weakenes of my bow Will shoot no shaft beyond my length I troe For reason learnes and wisdome makes me know Whose strength is best and who doth make or marre A little Lamp may not compare with Starre A feeble head where no great gifts doo grow Yeelds vnto skill whose knowledge makes smal shew Then gentle world I sweetly thee beseech Call Spenser now the spirit of learned speech Churchyards good will THE EARLE OF MVRTONS Tragedie once Regent of Scotland and alwaies of great birth great wisedome great wealth and verie great power and credite yet Fortune enuying his estate and noblenes brought him to lose his head on a Skaffold in Edenbrough the second of Iune 1581. MAke place for plaints giue rowme for plagued men Step backe proud mindes that praise your selues too much Let me appeale to some true writers pen That doth the life and death of Princes touch For my miâ—hap and fatall fall is such That gazing world which heares my woefull end Shall maruaile much to see such matter pend The restles race that mortall men doe runne Seemes smooth to sight yet full of scratting breers Here is no rest nor surety vnder Sunne Sowre is the taste of flowers that sweete appeares Our gentle ioyes are in our tender yeares For as the Childe to wit and reason growes So iudgement comes and seedes of sorrow sowes Our wanton time doth steale away with sport But when that care hath crept in curious braines Long griefe beginnes and pleasure is but short For heart and head is vert with fancies vaine Then hord brings hate and gold breeds greedy gaine Desire of which with pompe and glory great So boiles in brest it makes mans browes to sweat Ambitious minde the busie
CHVRCHYARDS Challenge LONDON Printed by Iohn Wolfe 1593. To the right honourable Sir Iohn VVolley Knight Secretary for the Latin tung to the Queenes Maiestie and one of her priuie Councell Thomas Churchyard wisheth increase of honor blessednes of life and abundance of worldly felicitie and heauenly happines THe long trauell and tracing out of life in this wearisome pilgrimage right honorable hauing brought me now almost to the ende of my iourney makes me glad with a restles desire to be rid of the burthens of my minde and the labours of my body the one neuer free from studie and the other seldome voide of toyle and yet both of them neither brought great benefite to the life nor blessing to the soule in which small rest and vnquietnes many sorrowfull discourses in my dayes I haue written and numbers of bookes I haue printed and because they shall not be buried with me I challenge them all as my children to abide behinde me in the worlde to make them inheritors of such fame dispraise as their father which begat them on sweet inuention heere enioyes or deserues hoping they shall not be called bastards nor none aliue will be so hardy as to call them his babes that I haue bred in my bowels brought forth and fostred vp so carefully at mine owne charges and hazard of an enuious worlde And now indeede for that diuers of disdainfull disposition doo or may hinder the good reporte of those labors which I thinke well bestowed among my freends I haue set forth while I am liuing a great number of my works in this booke named my Challenge that after my death shalbe witnesses they were mine owne dooings not for any great matter in them but for the iustnes of troth and true triall of all my honest exercises and so to purchase credit and the more freends and fauourers to prop vp my poore reputation I not only dedicate this booke and all therein to your honor but haue made also in the same booke diuers dedications to sundry honorable and worshipfull personages protesting that there is nothing heerein but came from mine owne deuice which inuencions spoken as becomes me shal be in all honest sorte defended by pen or any way I may to the vttermost of my breath or abilitie ioying much with all gladnes of hart that they are presented to so honourable a personage and one of such singuler learning whose worth and value by a worthy and vertuous Princes is seene into and throwly considered of which gracious Queene hath alwaies made her princely choice in such an excellent and vnspeakable maner as God himselfe should deuinely appoint and direct to our great wealth and his great glory and in whose râ—re commendation all the pen men of the world may write Now good sir vnder your excellent fauour and countenance I shielde my presumption and boldenes that hath offred a booke of so many discourses to the iudgement of such a multitude that quickly can discouer the weakenes of my labors but hauing ventured so farre as to publishe them in print I must now of necessitie commit them to the common opinion of the world So in hope the best will fall out I present you with my studies and take leaue of your honor desiring of God what goodnes can be wished to be alwaies at your commaundement Dutifully and loyally in all at commaundement Thomas Churchyard To the worthiest sorte of People that gently can reade and iustly can iudge GOod Reader if my presumption were so great that I thought my booke might passe without your fauourable iudgement mine error were as much as my ouer-weening and yet to vse perswasions in purchasing your good liking I should passe the bounds of common reason and fall into the danger of adulation for your good wils are rather won with good matter then bare wordes and say what I can to gaine your affection toward my worke you will speake what seemeth best in your owne conceites For among many thousands are many of deepe consideration and some vndoubtedly of as shallow iudgement so that the one or the other cannot nor will not be led and caried away with any deuice of my pen though all the hye spirits and excellency of Poetry might drop out of the quill I writ withall wherefore now I must as well abide the hazard of your censure as I haue boldely vnfolded my selfe to the worlde there is now no crauing of pardon nor pleading for your furtherance to encrease my good fame my works must abide waight they are thrust into the ballance and I of necessitie must content me with your allowance and what price pleaseth you to set on my marchandise but if they proue too light in the skales I pray you helpe them with some graine of good skill that they be not condemned as trifles because they haue cost me great labour and study and put me to no little charges I freely offer them to you for three or foure causes the one to keep the reputation of a writer the second to pleasure my freendes with the reading of new inuentions and thirdly to desire my foes to giue me true reporte of those workes I haue made and last of all to affirme that euery thing in this my booke of Challenge is mine owne dooing which iustlye no man can deny Not boasting thereof as matter worthy memory but claiming a better regarde then enuy would giue me I stand to the praise or dispraise of all I haue done maruelling much that in my life time any one would take from me the honest laudation I deserue I striue no further in that point but commit to God and good people the indifferency and iustnes of my cause and the best is which shall beare it selfe the wise of the worlde and worthiest of knowledge and capacitie are the only Iudges shall yeeld me my right the rest are but hearers and lookers on whose voices may make a great noise but giues so vncertaine a sound they can doo no great harme because of nature and condition they neuer doo no great good Now my pleading time is past my booke must appeare in that bare fashion as I haue formed the matter I hope it shall not walke so nakedly abroade but shalbe able to abide the coldenes of ill will and the extreame heate of hatefull mens disposition God the giuer of goodnes guide my verses so well that they neuer happen into their hands that loues me not and make my prose and plainenes of speech be as welcome to the Reader as it was well ment of the writer So with double and treble blessing Farwell FINIS My next booke shalbe the last booke of the Worthines of Wales And my last booke called my Vltimum Vale shalbe if it please God twelue long tales for Christmas dedicated to twelue honorable Lords Heere followes the seuerall matters contained in this booke THe tragedie of the Earle of Morton The tragedie of sir Simon Burley A discours that a man
yeld to death and vpward lift the minde Where lothsome life shall present comfort finde Since hope can haue no honey from the Hiue And paines can plucke no pleasure for his toyle It is but vaine for wearie life to striue And stretch out time with torment and tormoyle Get what we can death triumphes ore the spoyle Then note this well though wee winne neere so mitch When death takes all wee leaue a mizer ritch To liue and lacke is double death indeede A present death exceedes a lingring woe Since no good hap in youth did helpe my neede In age why should I striue with Fortune so Old yeares are come and hastes me hence to goe The time drawes on I hate the life I haue When heart shall breake my griefe shall ende in graue Should I seeke life that findes no place of rest Ne soyle nor seate to shroude me from the ayre When cramping cold beclyps my carefull breast And dolour driues my heaâ—t in deepâ— dispayre For such foule dayes darke death is wonderous fayre As good to make the scrawling wormes a feast As please the world where mischiefe makes her neast Hie time it is to haste my caâ—kasse hence Youth stole awaie and felt no kinde of ioy And age he left in trauell euer since The wanton dayes that made mee nice and coy Were but a dreame a shadowe and a toy Sith slauerie heere I find and nothing else My home is there where soule in freedome dwels In warres and woe my yeares are wasted cleane What should I see if Lordly life I led I looke in glasse and finde my cheekes so leane That euery houre I doe but wish mee dead Now backe bendes downe and forward falls the head And hollow eyes in wrinkled brow doth shroude As though two starres were créeping vnder cloude The lips waxe cold and lookes both pale and thin The teeth fals out as nuts forsoke the shale The hare bald-head but shewes where haiâ—e hath bin The liuely ioyntes waxe verie stiffe and stale The ready tongue now folters in his tale The wearish face and tawney colour showes The courage quayles as strength decaies and goes The sweete delights are drownde in dulled mind The gladsome sportes to groning sighes are bent The frisking limmes so farre from frame I finde That I forethinke the time that youth hath spent But when I waigh that all these thinges were lent And I must pay the earth her dutie throw I shrinke no whit to yelde these pleasures now Had I possest the giftes of Fortune héere A house a wife and Children there withall And had in store to make my friendes good chéere Such common thinges as neighbours haue at call In such dispayre perchaunce I would not fall But want of this and other lackes a score Bids mee seeke death and wish to liue no more The thatcher hath a cottage poore you see The sheapheard knowes where he shall sleepe at night The dayly drudge at night can quiet beeÌ„ Thus Fortune sendes some rest to euery wight So borne I was to house and land by right But in a bagg to Court I brought the same From Shrewsburie towne a seate of auncient fame What thinkes my friendes that there behind I laft What fault findes shée that gaue me life and sucke O courting fine thou art too cold a craft The Carter hath at home much better lucke Well well I say adue all worldly mucke Ne house nor Land we beare away I knoe I naked came and naked hence must goe The greatest King must passe the selfe same way Our day of birth and buriall are alike Their ioy their pompe their wealth and rich aray Shall soone consume like snow that lies in dike No Buckler serues when soddaine death doth strike As soone may come a poore mans soule to blis As may the rich or greatest Lord that is Well ere my breath my body doe forsake My spriâ—e I do bequeath to God aboue My bookes my scronies and songes that I did make I leaue with friendes that freely me did loue To slyring foes whose malice me did moue I wishe in hast amendment of their waies And to the Court and courtiers happy daies My fortune straunge to straungers do I leaue That straungly can retaine such straunge mishap To such as still in world did me deceaue I wish they may beware of such like trap To slaunderous tongues that killde me with a clap I wish more rest than they haue giuen to mee And blesse those shreawes that curst and crabbed bee To such as yet did neuer pleasure man I giue those rimes that nips the gawled backe To such as would doe good and if they can I wish good lucke long life and voyde of lacke To currish Karles a whyp and Colliers sacke And to the proude that stands vppon their braues A wainscot face and twentie crabtree staues To surlie sirs that scornes the meaner sort A nightcap furd with Foynes I them bequeath To such as scowle at others good report And sets much store by their owne paynted sheat In signe of lucke I giue a willow wreath To such as are vnnamde and merits much The stone I leaue that tries the Gold by tutch To gentill race with good conditions ioynd I wish more ioy than man imagin may And since for poore I haue noe mony coynd God graunt them all a mery mariage day To such as doth delight in honest play I wish the Gold that I haue lost thereby And all the wealth I want before I die Now friends shake handes I must be gone my boyes Our mirth takes end our triumph all is done Our tykling talke our sportes and merry toyes Do slide away like shadowe of the Sun Another comes when I my race haue run Shall passe the time with you in better plite And finde good cause of greater thinges to write FINIS A DREAME To the right worshipfull my good Lady the Lady Paulet who was wife to the honorable sir Hugh Pauleâ— Knight AMong the manifold works in print pamphelets bookes volumes and deuises I neuer addressed my pen to your Ladiship till now though bound for many courtesies better to consider of so good a Lady and now worst able to redeeme duty forgotten I bring my selfe backeward to behold my great ouersight but presing forward to win ground I leese the keeping of a writers credit for no one thing is left worthy your view and looking on such hast haue I had in the spoiling of my selfe inuentions a prodicall point of bountie rather than the part of a wise bountiful writer especially to bestowe the best matters on others and present but a dreame to your Ladiship shewing thereby the shallownes of my iudgement but yet some such substaunce of matter as I trust is more delightfull than dainty For my Dreame hauing many significations may grow on many causes and hit on a nomber of Accidents fit for my humour but skarse meet for your graue consideration yet such fancies as a dreame brings