Peirs Gaueston EARLE OF CORNWALL His life death and fortune Effugiunt auidos carmina sola rogos AT LONDON Printed by I. R. for N. L. and Iohn Busby and are to be sold at the West doore of Paules To the vvorthy and honorable Gentleman Maister Henry Caundish Esquire TIme-enobled Gentleman and euer-honoured Ma. Caundish highly esteeming you in mine owne opinion amongst the number of those who for theyr rare deserts and excellencie of their minds in this world-declining age haue their names registred in the Catilogue of the most worthiest of this time as a kinde Maecenas to Schollers a fauourer of learning and Arts which shall engraue your name with the Diamond of Fame in the Christall mirror of Heauen I present to your iudiciall view the tragicall discourse of the life death and fortune of PEIRS GAVESTON whose name hath been obscured so many yeeres and ouer-past by the Tragaedians of these latter times assuring my selfe your honourable patronage shall protect him against the Art-hating humorists of this malicious time whose enuious thoughts like Quailes feed only on poyson snarling like doggs at euery thing which neuer so little disagreeeth from their owne Stoicall dispositions Thus confirming my selfe in your fauourable and gracious acceptance of my Muse which in my loue I euer consecrate to your honorable House I wish you that happines which is due to your own worth and good desart Your euer affectionate Michaell Drayton Peirs Gaueston FRom gloomy shaddowe of eternall night Where cole-black darknes keeps his lothsome cel And from those Ghostes whose eyes abhorre the light From thence I come a wofull tale to tell Prepare the Stage I meane to acte my parte Sighing the scenes from my tormented hart From Stygian lake to gracelesse soules assign'd And from the floud of burning Acheron Where sinfull spirites are by the fier refinde The fearefull Ghost of wofull Gaueston With black-fac'd furies from the graues attended Vntill the tenor of my tale be ended Wing-footed Fame now sommons me from death In Fortunes triumph to aduance my glorie The blessed Heauens againe doe lend me breath Whilst I reporte this dolefull Tragick storie That soule and bodie which death once did sunder Now meete together to reporte a wonder O purple-buskind Pallas most diuine Let thy bright fauchion lend me Cypresse bowes Be thou assistinge to this Poet of mine And with thy tragicke garland girte his browes Pitying my case when none would heare me weepe To tell my cares hath layde his owne to sleepe You mournfull maydens of the sacred nine You destinies which haunt the shades beneath To you fayre muses I my playnts resigne To you black spirits I my woes bequeath With sable pens of direfull ebonie To pen the processe of my tragedie Drawe on the lines which shall report my life With weeping words distilling from thy pen Where woes abound and ioyes are passing rife A verie meteor in the eies of men Wherein the world a wonder-world may see Of heauen-bred ioye and hell-nurst miserie Declare my ebs my often swelling tide Now tell my calmes and then report my showres My winters stormes and then my summers pride False fortunes smiles then her dissembling lowres The height wherto my glorie did ascend Then poynt the period where my ioyes did end When famous Edward wore the english crowne Victorious Long shankes flower of chiualrie First of his name that raignd in Albion Through worlds renownd to all posteritie My youth began and then began my blis Euen in his daies those blessed daies of his O daies no daies but little worlds of mirth O yeares no yeares time sliding with a trice O world no world a verie heauen on earth O earth no earth a verie paradice A King a man nay more then this was hee If earthly man more then a man might bee Such a one he was as Englands Beta is Such as she is euen such a one was he Betwixt her rarest excellence and his Was neuer yet so neare a Sympathy To tell your worth and to giue him his due I say my soueraigne he was like to you His court a schoole where artes were daily red And yet a campe where armes were exercised Vertue and learning here were nourished And stratagems by souldiers still deuised Heere skilfull schoolmen were his counsaylors Schollers his captaines captaines Senators Here sprang the roote of true gentilitie Vertue was clad in gold and crownd with honor Honor intitled to Nobilitie Admired so of all that looked on her Wisedome not wealth possessed wisemens roomes Vnfitting base insinuating groomes Then Machiuels were loth'd as filthie toades And good men as rare pearles were richly prized The learned were accounted little Gods The vilest Atheist as the plague despised Desert then gaynd that vertues merit craues And artles Pesants scorn'd as basest slaues Pride was not then which all things ouerwhelms Promotion was not purchased with gold Men hew'd their honor out of steeled helms In those dayes fame with bloud was bought and sold No petri-fogger pol'd the poore for pence These dolts these dogs as traytors banisht hence Then was the Souldier prodigall of bloud His deedes eternizd by the Poets pen Who would not dye to doe his countrey good When after death his fame yet liu'd to men Then learning liu'd with liberalitie And men were crownd with immortalitie Graunt pardon then vnto my wandring ghost Although I seeme lasciuious in my prayse And of perfection though I seeme to boast Whilst here on earth I troad this weary maze Whilst yet my soule in bodie did abide And whilst my flesh was pampred here in pride My valiant father was in Gascoygne borne A man at armes and matchles with his launce A Souldier vow'd and to King Edward sworne With whom he seru'd in all his wars in Fraunce His goods and lands he pawnd and layd to gage To follow him the wonder of that age And thus himselfe he from his home exil'd Who with his sword sought to aduance his fame With me his ioy but then a little child Vnto the Court of famous England came Whereas the King for seruice he had done Made me a page vnto the Prince his sonne My tender youth yet scarce crept from the shell Vnto the world brought such a wonderment That all perfection seem'd in me to dwell And that the heauens me all their graces lent Some sware I was the quintessence of nature And some an Angell and no earthly creature The heauens had lim'd my face with such a die As made the curiost eie on earth amazed Tempring my lookes with loue and maiestie A miracle to all that euer gazed So that it seem'd some power had in my birth Ordained me his Image here on earth O bewtious vernish of the heauens aboue Pure grain-dy'd colour of a perfect birth O fairest tincture adamant of loue Angell-hewd blush the prospectiue of mirth O sparkling luster ioying humaine sight Liues ioy hearts fire Loues nurse the soules delight As purple-tressed Titan with his
there I lost my head Loe heer the point and sentence of my time My liues full stop my last Catastrophe The stipend of my death-deserued cryme The Scene that ends my wofull tragedy My latest Vale knitting my conclusion Mine vtter ruine and my fames confusion Like as Adonis wounded with the Bore From whose fresh hurt the life-warme blood doth spin Now lyeth wallowing in his purple gore Stayning his faire and Alablaster skin My headles bodie in the blood is left Now lying breathles and of life bereft 〈◊〉 my Muse put on thy Eagles wings 〈◊〉 some comfort to my tired ghost 〈◊〉 with Apollos dolefull-tuned strings 〈◊〉 help at need for now I need thee most Sorrow posses my hart mine eyes myne ears My breath consume to sighs my braine to tears My soule now in the heauens eternall glass Beholds the scarrs and botches of her sin How filthy vglie and deformd shee was The lothsome dunghill that shee wallowed in Her pure Creator sitting in his glory With eyes of iustice to peruse her storie Like as a stagg at bay amongst the hounds The bloodie Mott still sounding in his ears Feeling his breath diminish by his wounds Poures downe his gummy life-preseruing tears Euen thus my soule now bayted by my sin Consuming shewes the sorrow shee is in Thus comfortles forsaken and alone All worldlie things vnstable and vnsure By true contrition flyes to him alone In whose compare the heauens are most impure By whose iust doome to blessed soules reuealed Shee gets her pasport to Elisia sealed And by repentance finds a place of rest Where passing to the faire Elisian plaine Shee is aloud her roome amongst the blest In those Ambrosian shadowes to remaine Till summond thus by Fame shee is procur'd To tell my life that hath been thus obscur'd This monster now this many-headed beast The people more vnconstant then the wind Who in my life my life did so detest Now in my death are of another mind And with the fountains from their teareful eyes Doe honor to my latest obsequies Star-holding heauen hath shut vp all her light Nature become a stepdam to her owne The mantled trouch-man of the Rauen-hued night In mournfull Sables clad the Horizon The sky-borne Planets seeming to conspire Against the ayre the water earth and fire Pearle-paued Auon in her streamfull course With heauy murmure floting on the stones Mou'd with lament to pitty and remorse Attempering sad musick to my moans Tuning her billowes to Zephyrus breath In watry language doth bewaile my death Oke-shadowed Arden fild with bellowing cries Resounding through her holts and hollow grounds To which the Eccho euer-more replies And to the fields sends forth her hideous sounds And in her Siluan rude vntuned songs Makes byrds and beasts for to express my wrongs The heauen-dyed flowers in this happy clyme Mantling the Medowes in their Summers pride As in the wofull frostie winter time Drouping with faintnes hold their heads aside The boystrous storms dispoile the greenest greues Stripping the Trees stark naked of their leaues Death clad in liueries of my louely cheeks Layd in those beds of Lillyes and of Roses Amaz'd with meruaile heere for wonders seeks Where he alone a Paradice supposes Grew malcontent and with himselfe at strife Not knowing now if hee were death or life And shutting vp the casements of those lyghts Which like two sunns so sweetly went to rest In those faire globes he saw those heauenly sights In which alone he thought him onely blest Cursing himselfe who had depriued breath From that which thus could giue a life in death With palenes touching that fayre rubied lip Now waxing purple like Adonis flower Where Iuory walls those rocks of Curral keep From whence did flow that Nectar-streaming shower There earth-pale Death refresht his tired limms Where Cupid bath'd hym in those Christall brimms And entring now into that house of glory That Temple with sweet Odors long perfumed Where nature had ingraued many a story In Letters which by death were not consumed Accursed now his crueltie he curst That Fame should liue when he had done hys worst Now when the King had notice of my death And that hee saw his purpose thus preuented In greeuous sighes hee now consumes his breath And into tears his very eyes relented Cursing that vile and mercy-wanting age And breakes into this passion in his rage O heauens quoth hee lock vp the liuing day Cease sunn to lend the world thy glorious light Starrs flye your course and wander all astray Moone lend no more thy siluer shine by night Heauens starrs Sunn Moone conioyne you all in one Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston Earth be thou helples in thy creaturs berth Sea break thou forth from thy immured bound Ayre with thy vapors poyson thou the earth Wind break thy Caue and all the world confound Earth sea ayre wind conioyne you all in one Bewaile the death of my sweet Gaueston You sauage beasts that haunt the way-less woods You Birds delighted in your Siluan sound You scaly Fish that swim in pleasant floods You hartless Wormes that creep vpon the ground Beasts birds fish wormes each in your kind alone Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston Faire Medowes be you withered in the prime Sun-burnt and bare be all the goodly Mountains Groues be you leaueless in the Summer time Pitchy and black be all the Christall Fountains All things on earth each in your kind alone Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston You damned Furies break your Stigian Cell You wandring spirits in water earth and ayre Lead-boyling ghosts that liue in lowest hell Gods diuels men vnto mine ayde repayre Come all at once conioyne you all in one Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston Eyes neuer sleep vntill you see reuenge Head neuer rest vntill thou plot reuenge Hart neuer think but tending to reuenge Hands neuer act but acting deep reuenge Iust-dooming heauens reuenge mee from aboue That men vnborne may wonder at my loue You peerles Poets of ensuing times Chanting Heroique Angel-tuned notes Or humble Pastors Nectar-filled lines Driuing your flocks with musick to their coats Let your hie-flying Muses still bemoane The wofull end of my sweet Gaueston My earth-pale body now enbalmd with tears To famous Oxford solemnly conuaid There buried by the ceremonious Friers Where for my soule was many a Trentall said With all those rites my obsequies behoued Whose blind deuotion time and truth reproued But ere two yeeres were out and fully dated This gracious King who still my fame respected My wasted bones to Langley thence translated And ouer mee a stately Tombe erected Which world-deuouring Time hath now out-worne As but for Letters were my name forlorne My ghost now hence to Ankor shall repayre Where once the same appeared vnto thee And vnto chaste Idea tell my care A sacrifice both for thy selfe and mee In whose sweet bosome all the Muses rest In whose aspect our Clyme is onely blest Thus hauing told my drery dolefull tale My time expir'd I now returne againe Where Carons Barge hoyst with a merrie gale Shall land mee on the faire Elisian plaine Where on the Trees of neuer dying fame There will I carue Ideas sacred name And thou sweet Dorus whose sole Phoenix Muse With Pegase wings doth mount vnto the sky Whose lines the gods are fittest to peruse My louelie Dorus lend thine humble eye To my harsh stile deer friend at my request In whose conceit my verse is onely blest My deer Maecenas lend thine eyes awhile From Meredian's sun-bred stately straine And from thy rare and lofty flying stile Looke downe into my low and humble vaine On this same babe my Muse hath now brought forth Till shee present thee with some lines of worth FINIS DIuers haue been the opinions of the byrth and first rysing of Gaueston amongst the VVriters of these latter times some omitting things worthy of memory some inferring things without probabilitie disagreeing in many particulars and cauelling in the circumstances of his sundry banishments which hath bred some doubt amongst those who haue but slightly run ouer the History of his fortune seeing euery man roue by his owne ayme in this confusion of opinions Although most of thē concluding in generall of his exceeding credite with the King of the maner of his death and of the pompe wherin he lyued Except some of those VVriters who lyued in the tyme of Edward the second wherin he onely florisht or immediatly after in the golden raigne of Edward the third when as yet his memory was fresh in euery mans mouth whose authorities in myne opinion can hardlie be reproued of any the same beeing within the compasse of possibility and the Authors names extant auouching what they haue written On whom I onely relyed in the plot of my History hauing recourse to some especiall collections gathered by the industrious labours of Iohn Stow a diligent Chronigrapher of our time A man very honest exceeding painfull and ritch in the antiquities of this Ile yet omitting some small things of no moment feating to make his Tragedy more troublesome amongst so many currants as haue fallen out in the same framing my selfe to fashion a body of a hystorie without maime or deformitie VVhich if the same be accepted thankfully as I offer it willingly in contenting you I onely satisfie my selfe M. D.
I fell From Angels state from heauen cast downe to hell Loe here the verie Image of perfection With the blacke pensill of defame is blotted And with the vlcers of my youths infection My innocencie is besmer'd and spotted Now comes my night ô now my day is done These sable cloudes eclipse my rising sunne Our innocence our child-bred puritie Is now defilde and as our dreames forgot Drawne in the coach of our securitie What act so vile that we attempted not Our sun-bright vertues fountaine-cleer beginning Is now polluted by the filth of sinning O wit too wilfull first by heauen ordayn'd An Antidote by vertue made to cherish By filthy vice as with a mole art stayn'd A poyson now by which the sences perish That made of force all vices to controule Defames the life and doth confound the soule The Heauens to see my fall doth knit her browes The vaulty ground vnder my burthen groneth Vnto mine eyes the ayre my light allowes The very winde my wickednesse bemoneth The barren earth repineth at my foode And Nature seemes to cursse her beastly broode And thus like slaues we sell our soules to sinne Vertue forgot by worldes deceitfull trust Alone by pleasure are we entred in Now wandring in the labyrinth of lust For when the soule is drowned once in vice The sweete of sinne makes hell a paradice O Pleasure thou the very lure of sinne The roote of woe our youthes deceitfull guide A shop where all confected poysons been The bayte of lust the instrument of pride Inchanting Circes smoothing couer-guile A luring Siren flattering Crockodile Our Ioue which sawe his Phoebus youth betrayde And Phaeton guide the sunne-carre in the skies Knewe well the course with danger hardly staide For what is not perceu'd by wise-mens eyes He knew these pleasures posts of our desire Might by misguiding set his throne on fier This was a corsiue to King Edwards dayes These iarring discords quite vntund his mirth This was the paine that neuer gaue him ease If euer hell this was his hell on earth This was the burthen which he groned vnder This pincht his soule and rent his heart in sunder This venom suckt the marrowe from his bones This was the canker which consum'd his yeares This fearfull vision fild his sleepe with grones This winter snowd downe frost vpou his hayres This was the moth this was the fretting rust Which so consum'd his glorie vnto dust The humor found which fed this foule disease Must needes be stay'd ere help could be deuis'd The vaine must breath the burning to appease Hardly a cure the wound not cauteris'd That member now wherein the botch was risen Infecteth all not cured by incision The cause coniectur'd by this prodigie From whence this foule contagious sicknes grue Wisdome alone must giue a remedie For to preuent the danger to insue The cause must end ere the effect could cease Else might the danger dayly more increase Now those whose eyes to death enuide my glorie Whose saftie still vpon my down-fall stood These these could comment on my youthfull storie These were the wolues which thirsted for my blood These all vnlade their mischiefes at this baye And make the breach to enter my decaye These curres that liu'd by carrion of the court These wide-mouth'd hel-hounds long time kept at bay Finding the King to credit their reporte Like greedie rauens follow for their pray Dispightfull Langton fauorit to the King Was he which first me in disgrace could bring Such as beheld this lightning from aboue My Princely Ioue from out the ayre to thunder This earth-quake which did my foundation moue This boystrous storme this vnexspected wounder They thought my sunne had bin eclipsed quite And all my day now turn'd to winters night My youth embowel'd by their curious eyes Whose true reportes my life anatomis'd Who still pursu'd me like deceitfull spyes To crosse that which I wantonly deuis'd Perceaue the traine me to the trap had led And downe they come like haylestones on my head My Sonne eclips'd ech Starre becomes a Sunne When Phoebus fayles then Cynthia shineth bright These furnish vp the Stage my act is done Which were but Gloe-wormes to my glorious light Those erst condemn'd by my perfections doome In Phoebus chariot now possesse my roome The Commons swore I led the Prince to vice The Nobles said that I abus'd the King Graue Matrons such as lust could not intice Like women whispred of another thing Such as could not aspire vnto my place These were suborn'd to offer me disgrace The staffe thus broke whereon my youth did stay And with the shaddowe all my pleasures gone Now with the windes my ioyes fleete hence away The silent night makes musik to my moane The tatling ecchoes whispering with the ayre Vnto my wordes sound nothing but despayre The frowning Heauens are all in sables clad The Planet of my liues misfortune raineth No musick serues a dying soule to glad My wrong to Tirants for redresse complaineth To ease my paine there is no remedie So farre despayre exceeds extremitie Why doe I quake my down-fall to reporte Tell on my ghost the storie of my woe The King commaunds I must depart the court I aske no question he will haue it so The Lyons roring lesser beastes doe feare The greatest flye when he approcheth neare My Prince is now appointed to his guarde As srom a traytor he is kept from me My banishment already is preparde Away I must there is no remedie On paine of death I may no longer stay Such is reuenge which brooketh no delaye The skies with cloudes are all inuelloped The pitchie fogs eclipse my cheerfull Sunne The geatie night hath all her curtaines spred And all the ayre with vapours ouerrun Wanting those rayes whose cleernes lent me light My sun-shine day is turn'd to black-fac'd night Like to the birde of Ledaes lemmans die Beating his breast against the siluer streame The fatall prophet of his destinie With mourning chants his death approching theame So now I sing the dirges of my fall The Anthemes of my fatall funerall Or as the faithfull Turtle for her make Whose youth enioyd her deere virginitie Sits shrouded in some melancholie brake Chirping forth accents of her miserie Thus halfe distracted sitting all alone With speaking sighs to vtter forth my mone My bewtie s'dayning to behold the light Now weather-beaten with a thousaud stormes My daintie lims must trauaile day and night Which oft were lulde in princely Edwards armes Those eyes where bewtie sate in all her pride With fearefull obiects fild on euery side The Prince so much astonisht with the blowe So that it seem'd as yet he felt no paine Vntill at length awakned by his woe He sawe the wound by which his ioyes were slaine His cares fresh bleeding fainting more and more No Cataplasma now to cure the sore Now weepe mine eyes and lend me teares at will You sad-musde sisters help me to indite And in your faire Castalia bathe my quill
prayse Sur-named now the wonder of our dayes Who euer sawe the kindest romane dame With extreame ioye yeeld vp her latest breath When from the warres her sonne triumphing came When stately Rome had mourned for his death Her passion here might haue exprest aright When once I came into the Princes sight Who euer had his Ladie in his armes That hath of loue but felt the miserie Touching the fire that all his sences warmes Now clips with ioy her blushing Iuorie Feeling his soule in such delights to melt Ther's none but he can tell the ioye we felt Like as when Phoebus darteth forth his rayes Gliding along the swelling Ocean streames Now whilst one billowe with another playes Reflecteth back his bright translucent beames Such was the conflict then betwixt our eyes Sending forth lookes as teares doe fall and rise It seem'd the ayre deuisde to please my sight The whistling winde makes musick to my tale All things on earth now feast me with delight The world to me sets all her wealth to sale Who now rules all in courte but I alone Who highly grac'd but onely Gaueston Now like to Mydas all I touch is gould The cloudes doe shower downe gould into my lap If I but winke the mightiest are controulde Plac'd on the turret of my highest hap My cofers now euen like to Oceans are To whom all floods by course doe still repayre With bountie now he franckly seales his loue And to my hands yeelds vp the Ile of Man By such a gifte his kingly minde to proue This was the earnest wherewith he began Then VValingford Queene Elnors stately dower With many a towne and many a goodly tower And all those sums his father had preparde By way of taxes for the holy land He gaue me francklie as my due rewarde In bountie thus it seemd he pleasd his hand Which made the worlde to wonder euery houre To see me drowned in this golden showre Determin'd now to hoyst my sayle amaine The Earle of Cornewall he created me Of England then the Lord high Chamberlaine Chiefe Secretarie to his Maiestie What I deuisd his treasure euer wrought His bountie still so answered to my thought Yet more to spice my ioyes with sweete delight bound by his loue aprentice to my pleasure Whose eyes still leuel'd how to please my sight Whose kindnes euer so exceeded measure Deuis'd to quench my thirst with such a drinke As from my quill drops Nectar to my inke O sacred Bountie mother of content Prop of renowne the nourisher of arts The Crowne of hope the roote of good euent The trumpe of Fame the ioye of noble harts Grace of the Heauens diuinitie in nature Whose excellence doth so adorne the creature He giues his Neece in mariage vnto me Of Royall blood for bewtie past compare Borne of his sister was this Bellamie Daughter to Gilbert thrice renowned Clare Chiefe of his house the Earle of Glocester For Princely worth that neuer had his peere Like Heauen-di'd Andromeda the fayre In her embrodered mantle richly dight With Starrie traine inthronis'd in the ayre Adorns the VVelken with her glittering light Such one she was which in my bosome rested With whose deare loue my youthful yeres were feasted As when fayre Ver dight in her flowrie rayle In her new-coloured liueries decks the earth And glorious Tytan spreads his sun-shine vaile To bring to passe her tender infants birth Such was her bewtie which I then possest With whose imbracings all my youth was blest Whose purest thoughts and spotles chaste desire To my affections still so pleasing were Neuer yet toucht with sparke of Venus fier As but her breast I thought no Heauen but there To none more like then fayre Idea she The very image of all chastitie O chastitie that guifte of blessed soul's Comfort in death a crowne vnto the life Which all the passions of the minde controul's Adornes the mayde and bewtifies the wife That grace the which nor death nor time attaints Of earthly creatures making heauenly Saints O Virtue which no muse can poetize Fayre Queene of England which with thee doth rest Which thy pure thoughts doe onely exercize And is impressed in thy royall breast Which in thy life disciphered is alone Whose name shall want a fit Epitheton The Heauens now seeme to frolick at my feaste The Stars as handmayds seruing my desiers Now loue full fed with bewtie takes his rest To whom content for saftie thus retiers The grounde was good my footing passing sure My dayes delightsome and my life secure Loe thus ambition creepes into my breast Pleasing my thoughts with this emperious humor And with this diuell being once possest Mine eares are fild with such a buzzing rumor As onely pride my glorie doth awaite My sences sooth'd with euerie selfe-conceite Selfe-loue prides thirst vnsatisfied desier A flood that neuer yet had any boundes Times pestilence thou state-consuming fier A mischiefe which all common weales confoundes O Plague of plagues how many kingdomes rue thee O happie Empiers that yet neuer knew thee And now reuenge which had been smoothered long Like piercing lightning flasheth from mine eyes This word could sound so sweetely on my tonge And with my thoughts such Stratagems deuise Tickling mine eares with many a pleasing storie Which promist wonders and a world of glorie For now began the bloodie-rayning broyles Betweene the barons of the land and me Labouring the state with Ixion-endles toyles Twixt my ambition and their tyrannie Such was the storme this diluge first begun With which this Ile was after ouerrun O cruell discord foode of deadly hate O mortall corsiue to a common weale Death-lingring consumption to a state A poysoned sore that neuer salue could heale O foule contagion deadly killing feuer Infecting oft but to be cured neuer By courage now imboldned in my sinne Finding my King so surely linkt to me By circumstance I finely bring him in To be an actor in this tragedie Perswading him the Barons sought his blood And on what tearmes these earth-bred giants stood And so aduancing to my Princes Grace The baser sorte of factious qualitie As being raised vnto such a place Might counterpoyse the proude Nobilitie And as my agents on my part might stand Still to support what ere I tooke in hand Suborning gesters still to make me mirth Vile Sycophants at euery word to sooth me Time-fawning Spaniels Mermaydes on the earth Trencher-fed fools with flattering words to smooth me Base Parasites these elbowe-rubbing mates A plague to all lasciuious wanton states O filthie monkies vile and beastly kinde Foule pratling Parats berds of Harpie broode A corasiue to euery noble minde Vipers that suck your mothers deerest blood Mishapen monster worst of any creature A foe to art an enemy to nature His presence grac't what ere I went about His chiefe content was that which liked mee What ere I did his power still bare mee out And where I was there euer-more was hee By byrth my Soueraigne but by loue my