Chapter VI: Front Matter (6)

And yet the disorder and lack of foresight in the Walloons did great[ly] help to augment the Spanish glory and boast.

* * * * *

To conclude. The Count D'OBERSTEIN was drowned in the New Town. The Marquis D'HAVRÉ and [Sieur DE] CHAMPAGNEY escaped out of the said New Town, and recovered the Prince of ORANGE's ships.

Only the young Count [PHILIP] of EGMONT was taken, fighting by St Michael's. Monsieur DE CAPRES and Monsieur DE GOGINES were also taken. But I heard of none that fought stoutly, saving only the said Count of EGMONT; whom the Colonel VERDUGO, a Spaniard of an honourable compassion and good mind, did save: with great danger to himself in defending the Count.

In this conflict there were slain 600 Spaniards, or thereabouts. And on the Thursday next following [8th November 1576], a view of the dead bodies in the town being taken, it was esteemed at 17,000 men, women, and children. [_This would be apart from those drowned in the Scheldt._] A pitiful massacre, though GOD gave victory to the Spaniards.

And surely, as their valiance was to be much commended; so yet I can much discommend their barbarous cruelty in many respects. For methinks that as when GOD giveth abundance of wealth, the owner ought yet to have regard on whom he bestow it: even so, when GOD giveth a great and miraculous victory, the conquerors ought to have great regard unto their execution. And though some, which favour the Spanish faction, will alledge sundry reasons to the contrary: yet, when the blood is cold and the fury over, methinks that a true Christian heart should stand content with victory; and refrain to provoke GOD's wrath by [the] shedding of innocent blood.

These things I rehearse the rather, because they neither spared _Age nor Sex, Time nor Place, Person nor Country, Profession nor Religion, Young nor Old, Rich nor Poor, Strong nor Feeble_: but, without any mercy, did tyrannously triumph, when there was neither man nor means to resist them.

For _Age and Sex, Young and Old_; they slew great numbers of young children; but many more women more than four score years of age.

For _Time and Place_; their fury was as great ten days after the victory, as at the time of their entry; and as great respect they had to the Church and Churchyard, for all their hypocritical boasting of the Catholic Religion, as the butcher had to his shambles or slaughter house.

For _Person and Country_, they spared neither friend nor foe, Portugese nor Turk.

For _Profession and Religion_, the Jesuits must give their ready coin; and all other Religious Houses, both coin and plate: with all short ends that were good and portable.

The _Rich_ was spoiled because he had; and the _Poor_ were hanged because they had nothing. Neither _Strength_ could prevail to make resistance, nor _Weakness_ move pity for to refrain their horrible cruelty.

And this was not only done when the chase was hot; but, as I erst said, when the blood was cold; and they [were] now victors without resistance.

* * * * *

I refrain to rehearse the heaps of dead carcases which lay at every Trench where they entered; the thickness whereof did in many places exceed the height of a man.

I forbear also to recount the huge numbers drowned in the New Town: where a man might behold as many sundry shapes and forms of man's motion at [the] time of death as ever MICHAEL ANGELO did portray in his Tables of Doomsday [_Picture of the Last Judgment_].

I list not to reckon the infinite number of poor Almains [_Germans_], who lay burned in their armour. Some [with] the entrails scorched out, and all the rest of the body free. Some [with] their head and shoulders burnt off; so that you might look down into the bulk and breast, and there take an anatomy of the secrets of Nature. Some [were] standing upon their waist; being burnt off by the thighs. And some no more but the very top of the brain taken off with fire; whiles the rest of the body did abide unspeakable torments.

I set not down the ugly and filthy polluting of every street with the gore and carcases of horses; neither do I complain that the one lacked burial, and the other flaying, until the air, corrupted with their carion, infected all that yet remained alive in the town.

And why should I describe the particularity of every such annoyance as commonly happens both in camps and castles where martial feats are managed?

But I may not pass over with silence the wilful burning and destroying of the stately Town House, and all the muniments and records of the city: neither can I refrain to tell their shameful rapes and outrageous forces presented unto sundry honest dames and virgins.

It is also a ruthful remembrance, that a poor English Merchant, who was but a servant, having once redeemed his master's goods for 300 crowns, was yet hanged until he were half dead, because he had not 200 more to give them. And the halter being cut down, and he come to himself again; [he] besought them on knees, with bitter tears, to give him leave to seek and try his credit and friends in the town, for the rest of their unreasonable demand. At his return, because he sped not, as indeed no money was then to be had, they hung him again outright: and afterwards, of exceeding courtesy, procured the Friars Minor to bury him.

To conclude. Of the 17,000 carcases which were viewed on the Thursday: I think, in conscience, 5,000, or few less, were massacred after their victory; because they had not ready money wherewith to ransom their goods at such prices as they pleased to set on them. At least, all the World will bear me witness, that ten days after, whosoever was but pointed at, and named to be a Walloon, was immediately massacred without further audience or trial.

For mine own part, it is well known that I did often escape very narrowly; because I was taken for a Walloon. And on Sunday, the 11th of this instant [November 1576], which was the day before I gat out of the town, I saw three poor souls murdered in my presence, because they were pointed [at] to be Walloons: and it was well proved, immediately [after], that one of them was a poor artificer, who had dwelt in the town eight years before, and [had] never managed arms, but truly followed his occupation.

Furthermore, the seed of these and other barbarous facts brought forth this crop and fruit, That, within three days, Antwerp, which was one of the richest towns in Europe, had now no money nor treasure to be found therein, but only in the hands of murderers and strumpets. For every Don DIEGO must walk, jetting up and down the streets, with his harlot by him, in her chain and bracelets of gold. And the notable Bourse, which was wont to be a safe assembly for merchants and men of all honest trades, had now none other merchandise therein but as many dicing tables as might be placed round about it, all the day long.

Men will boast of the Spaniards, that they are the best and most orderly soldiers in the World: but, sure[ly], if this be their order, I had rather be accounted a _Besoigner_ [French for _an indigent beggar_] than a brave soldier in such a Band: neither must we think, although it hath pleased GOD (for some secret cause only known to his divine Majesty) to yield Antwerp and Maestricht thus into their hands; that he will spare to punish this their outrageous cruelty, when his good will and pleasure shall be to do the same. For surely their boasting and bragging of iniquity is over great to escape long unscourged.

* * * * *

I have talked with sundry of them; and demanded, Why they would command that the Town House should be burned?

And their answer was, Because it was the place of assembly where all evil counsels were contrived.

As though it were just that the stocks and stones should suffer for the offence of men. But such is their obstinate mind and arrogancy that, if they might have their will, they would altogether raze and destroy the towns, until no one stone were left upon another. Neither doth their stubborn blindness suffer them to perceive that in so doing they should much endamage the King their Master; whom they boast so faithfully to honour, serve, and obey.

* * * * *

As for the injuries done by them unto our own Nation particularly; I will thus set down as much as I know.

We were quiet in the House appointed for the Mansion of English Merchants, under safe Conduct, Protection, and Placard [_Placcaet=Proclamation_] of their King: having neither meddled any way in these actions; nor by any means assisted the Estates of the country with money, munition, or any kind of aid. Yea, the Governor [THOMAS HETON] and Merchants, foreseeing the danger of the time, had often demanded passport[s] of the King's Governors and Officers to depart.

And all these, with sundry other allegations, we propounded and protested unto them before they entered the English House; desiring to be there protected, according to our Privileges and Grants from the King their Master; and that they would suffer us there to remain, free from all outrage spoil or ransom, until we might make our estate known unto [SANCHO D'AVILA] the Castellan [of Antwerp Castle] and other Head Officers which served there for the said King.

All which notwithstanding; they threatened to fire the House unless we would open the doors: and, being once suffered to enter, demanded presently the ransom of 12,000 crowns of the Governor. Which sum, being not indeed in the House, neither yet one-third part of the same; they spared not with naked swords and daggers to menace the Governor, and violently to present him death; because he had not wherewith to content their greedy minds.

I will not boast of any help afforded by me in that distress: but I thank the Lord GOD! who made me an instrument to appease their devilish furies. And I think that the Governor and all the Company will confess that I used mine uttermost skill and aid for the safeguard of their lives, as well as [of] mine own.

But in the end, all eloquence notwithstanding; the Governor [THOMAS HETON], being a comely aged man and a person whose hoary hairs might move pity and procure reverence in any good mind; especially the uprightness of his dealing considered: they enforced him, with great danger, to bring forth all the money, plate, and jewels which were in the House; and to prepare the remnant of 12,000 crowns at such days and times as they pleased to appoint.

And of the rest of our Nation, which had their goods remaining in their several pack-houses and lodgings elsewhere in the town; they took such pity that four they slew, and divers others they most cruelly and dangerously hurt: spoiling and ransoming them to the uttermost value that might be made, or esteemed, of all their goods. Yea, a certain one, they enforced to ransom his goods twice; yea, thrice: and, all that notwithstanding, took the said goods violently from them at the last.

And all these injuries being opened unto their chief Governors in time convenient; and whiles yet the whole sum, set for [the] several ransoms of our countrymen and the English House in general, were not half paid; so that justice and good order might partly have qualified the former rigours proferred by the soldiers: the said Governors were as slow and deaf, as the others were quick and light, of hearing to find the bottom of every bag in the town. So that it seemeth they were fully agreed in all things: or, if any contention were, the same was but [a] strife who, or which, of them might do greatest wrongs. Keeping the said Governor and Merchants there still, without grant of passport or safe conduct, when there are scarcely any victuals to be had for any money in the town; nor yet the said Merchants have any money to buy it, where it is. And as for credit; neither credit nor pawn can now find coin in Antwerp.

In these distresses, I left them the 12th of this instant November 1576; when I parted from them: not as one who was hasty to leave and abandon them in such misery; but to solicit their rueful causes here, and to deliver the same unto Her Majesty and [the Privy] Council in such sort as I beheld it there.

* * * * *

And this is, in effect, the whole truth of the Sacking and Spoil of so famous a town. Wherein is to be noted--that the Spaniards and their faction being but 5,000; the Trenches made against them of such height as seemed invincible; the Power within the town, 15,000 or 16,000 able fighting men well armed, I mean the townsmen ready armed being counted: it was charged, entered, and won in three hours; and before six hours passed over, every house therein sacked, or ransomed at the uttermost value.

The which victory (being miraculous and past man's capacity to comprehend how it should be possible) I must needs attribute unto GOD's just wrath poured upon the inhabitants for their iniquity, more than to the manhood and force of the Spaniards. And yet I mean not to rob them of their deserved glory; but to confess that both their order and valour in charging and entering was famous: and had they kept half so good order, or shewed the tenth part of such manly courage, in using their victory and parting of their spoil; I must then needs have said that CÆSAR had never any such soldiers. And this must I needs say for them that, as their continual training in service doth make them expert in all warlike stratagem[s]; so their daily trade in spoiling hath made them the cunningest ransackers of houses, and the best able to bring a spoil unto a quick market, of any soldiers or master thieves that ever I heard of.

But I leave the scanning of their deeds unto GOD, who will bridle their insolency when he thinketh good and convenient. And let us also learn, out of this rueful tragedy, to detest and avoid those sins and proud enormities which caused the wrath of GOD to be so furiously kindled and bent against the town of Antwerp.

Let us also, if ever we should be driven to like occasion, which GOD forbid! learn to look better about us for good order and direction; the lack whereof was their overthrow. For surely the inhabitants lacked but good guides and leaders: for (having none other order appointed, but to stand every man armed in readiness before his door) they died there, many of them, fighting manfully; when the Wallooners and High Duches [_Germans_] fled beastly.

Let us also learn to detest the horrible cruelties of the Spaniards, in all executions of warlike stratagems; lest the dishonour of such beastly deeds might bedim the honour wherewith English soldiers have always been endowed in their victories.

And finally let us pray to GOD for grace to amend our lives, and for power and foresight to withstand the malice of our enemies: that remaining and continuing in the peaceable protection of our most gracious Sovereign, we may give Him the glory; and all due and loyal obedience unto Her Majesty, whom GOD now and ever prospect and preserve. Amen.

Written the 25th day of November 1576,
by a true Englishman, who was
present at this piteous Massacre,
_ut supra_.

* * * * *

(Continued from page 143.)

5. The following illustrative documents, now in the State
Paper Office, London, carry on the story of the Spanish
Fury to a somewhat later date.

The spelling of the word GASCON is so important, that we
took the opinion of several experts at the State Paper
Office upon it. They were all unanimous that the word is
written GASCON, and not GASTON as printed in Volume 140
of the _Calendar_ of those _Foreign State Papers_. That
being so and the Christian name being given as GEORGE:
it is clear that THOMAS HETON, in the flurry in which
he wrote the _Memorial_ from the Company, wrote GEORGE
GASCON phonetically for GEORGE GASCOIGNE.

6. The next two documents are the letters which the
Soldier-Poet brought to England, when he got out of
Antwerp on 12th November 1576, as stated at page 162.

S. P. _Foreign. Eliz._ Vol. 140.

1,009. _THOMAS HETON to Sir FRANCIS WALSINGHAM_. From Antwerp, 10 November 1576.

Right Honourable, the 3rd of this month the States' men, Horsemen and Footmen, entered this town with consent: and on the morrow, which was Sunday the 4th of this present, the Spaniards with certain Almains, out of the Castle, entered the town and drave away the States' Power and they fled as they could: the town [being] put to sack, with a pitiful slaughter and a miserable spoil.

Our House [was] entered by Twelve Spaniards, soldiers, who put me and the rest of the Company in great fear. We were put to ransom first at 12,000 crowns; and since it is grown one way and [an]other to 3,000 more: and what the Company have lost, that had their chambers and pack-houses in the town in burghers' houses, at this present, I know not; but they are spoiled of all.

In the name of the Company there is a letter written to the honourable [Privy] Council of our state [_See next document_] most humbly beseeching that their Honours would be a mean[s] for us to Her Majesty, as to their Honours in this case they shall think good.

If we might have had passport[s] when I required it, first of the States, then of Monsieur [DE] CHAMPAGNEY Governor of this town, and after of the Lords of this town, as both by the Intercourse [of 1507] and Privileges we ought in right to have had; then had we avoided this great peril of life and miserable spoil which we have sustained.

And now I most humbly beseech you to move my good Lords that some [persons and money] may be sent over for our comfort, that we may be permitted to pass out of this town in person, and [also] such goods as we have remaining. For in this town we shall lack both victuals and fuel; and also be daily in fear of the like spoil that we have sustained.

And thus, what for the great peril that I have sustained, and the burden and charge of my Office; I must crave pardon though my writing be not as it should be.

I do perceive they [_the Spaniards_] stand here in doubt how Her Majesty will take this doing to us.

The Lord send me and my wife into England, if it be his good will.

At Antwerp, the 10th of November 1576.

THOMAS HETON.

1,010 _The Merchant Adventurers to the Privy Council._ From Antwerp, [10] November 1576.

Right Honourable our good and gracious Lords, &c. In all humbleness these are showing to your Honours that in respect of the troubles all over this country, and especially the danger in this town of Antwerp; such of our Society as are here remaining did purpose, and some attempted, to have, in due time, removed from this place both their persons and goods; some by water and some by land, as well towards England as for Duchland [_Germany_.] And being letted [_hindered_] of their purpose and attempts both the ways, and not suffered to pass their goods out of this town; whereupon [they] sought to have had free passage and passport here, according to the Intercourse and Safe Conduct.

But after many delays, from time to time; the 3rd day of this month, our requests were plainly denied, either to be granted, or by writing answered.

So as, the 4th day, we are fallen into great peril of our lives; divers of our Company being hurt, and some slain. And by sacking of this town ever since, we are not only spoiled of our money and goods that were in private houses thereof; but also we are further forced, for ransom and safeguard of our persons and goods within the principal House of our residence here, to answer and content the Spanish soldiers and others who, in the Fury, entered our said House, accounting charges, above the sum of £5,000 Flemish.

Towards furniture [_furnishing_] whereof, we have been constrained to give them all the money and plate that was in our said House; and also to use our credit for so much as we could get besides. And yet all accounted and delivered to them doth not discharge the one half of the sum; and for the rest we have given them Bills payable at a month, and some part at two months: so as now we have not money to provide for our needful sustentation.

Wherefore we most humbly beseech your good Lordships and Honours, of your accustomed clemencies, to have compassion upon us; and to be means to our most gracious Sovereign Lady, the Queen's Majesty, that speedy order may be given for our relief, and release out of this place: where presently [_at present_] we are void of money and credit; and shortly are like[ly] to be void of sustenance, and not able to get it for money.

The discourse of these tragedies we omit, and refer the same to be reported to your Lordships by this bringer, Master GEORGE GASCON; whose humanity, in this time of trouble, we, for our parts, have experimented.

And so leaving the further and due consideration of our case unto your Right Honourable wisdoms and clemencies; we beseech Almighty GOD to preserve your good Lordships and Honours in long health and felicity.

Written at Antwerp, this [10th] day of November 1576,
By your Lordships' and Honours'
Most bound and obedient.
The Governor and Fellowship of the
English Merchant Adventurers in Antwerp,
THOMAS HETON.

7. In 1602, an anonymously written Play, based on this
Narrative, was published in London, under the title, _A
larum for London, or the Siege of Antwerp_, in 4to.

8. Five days after GASCOIGNE got out of Antwerp; the
English Ambassador was there. No doubt he helped our
Merchant Adventurers in their dire extremity.

JERONIMO DE RODAS, or RODA, was the supreme villain in
command of the troops that had sacked the town; as SANCHO
D'AVILA was in charge of Antwerp Castle. Doctor WILSON
thus reports a conversation that he had with RODAS on
the 17th November 1576, thirteen days after the massacre
began. This gives us the Spanish view of the matter; and
also such miserable excuse as they could possibly offer
for their villany, which however is no excuse at all.

We must remember that it would be the Ambassador's policy
to keep fair with RODAS, who was master of the situation
for the moment.

S. P. _Foreign. Eliz._ Vol. 140. 1,021. _Dr THOMAS WILSON to the Privy Council._ 19 November 1576.

And now, if it please your Honours, I am to declare my coming to RODAS, who did send unto me a Safe Conduct for me and mine, upon a letter that I did write to him from Ghent the 10th of this month: and the 17th of the same, I did speak with him; immediately after my coming to Antwerp.

And, delivering my Letters of Credit, [I] made him acquainted with all that I did at Brussels; and that my coming [to Flanders] was for the King's benefit and honour: assuring him that if either the Estates would alienate this country [of Flanders] to any foreign Prince, or would convert it to themselves in prejudice of the King [PHILIP II.]; Her Majesty would employ all her force to withstand such attempts.

These speeches he liked very well: and was persuaded, even by plain demonstration before my departure, that my coming was to none other end; as it was not indeed.

Hereupon he declared unto me at large, the whole doings at Brussels, the Mutinies made by the Spaniards at Alost and elsewhere after their victory had at Zierikzee; and blamed greatly the young heads at Brussels, and the fury of the people to use the King's Council, and to break up the door of his Palace, in such sort as they did: [_RODAS was very nearly made prisoner in the Palace at Brussels_ _on 5th September 1576, by the Seigneur DE HÈZE:_] clearing the Council from all intention of evil to the town, or people, of Brussels; making a very great discourse unto me of this matter.

"Well," quoth I, "you are well revenged of the people by your late victory here in Antwerp; which hath been very bloody."

"Can you blame us?" quoth he. "Is it not natural to withstand force with force; and to kill rather than to be killed? and not to lose the King's piece committed to our charge?"

All this I granted: and praised the Spaniards for their valiant courage; that, being so few, could, with policy and manhood, overcome so many.

"But now," quoth I, "I pray you give me leave to speak a little. After you were lords of the town--which you got wholly and quietly within two hours after your issuing forth--what did you mean, to continue still killing, without mercy, people of all sorts that did bear no armour at all; and to murder them in their houses? to fire the chiefest and fairest part of the city, after you were in full and quiet possession of all? And not contented to spoil the whole town, but to ransom those that were spoiled? And to spare no Nation: although they did bear no arms at all; nor yet were dealers in any practice at all against the King's Ministers, or the Spaniards?"

His answer was, That the fury of the soldiers could not be stayed: and that it grieved him much when the city was on fire; and [that there] was no sparing to kill, when all were conquered. The soldiers of Alost were adventurers, had no Captains, desperate persons: and would not be ruled by any Proclamation or commandment that could be given or made.

"Well," quoth I, "if the Fury could not be stayed; yet the Ransoming might be forbidden; which is an act against the Law of all Nations." And therefore I required him, in the name of the Queen's Majesty, to command restitution to be made to the English Nation....

To conclude, he told me, That he would be glad to do what he might for restitution; but he thought it would be hard. For that which is to be paid with Bills, which for the Company amounteth to 5,000 crowns, at the month's end: the same [Bills], he saith, shall be discharged; and the bonds cancelled. Further he hath promised to grant a Safe Conduct for all English Merchants to go (with their goods remaining, ships, and merchandizes), without danger, withersoever they will: not aiding, or abetting, the King's enemies.

9. We next give the opinion of the Sieur DE CHAMPAGNEY as
to how the massacre came about.

In the following January, he was in England: and then
presented a long Memorial in French, to our Privy
Council; in which occurs the following reference to the
Spanish Fury.

S. P. _Foreign. Eliz._ Vol. 142.

1,029. _The Sieur DE CHAMPAGNEY's Declaration._

At London, in January 1577.

That he undertook the Government of Antwerp most unwillingly, at the express desire and command of the King of Spain. That, during his Government, he did all in his power to restrain the excesses of the Spaniards in the Citadel; so far as to incur their odium and hatred. That he was unable to prevent the sack of the town, owing to the treachery of the Almain Colonels [_VAN EINDEN &c._] of the only troops under his command; who would not suffer the burghers to arm in their defence.

10. EDWARD GRIMESTON, in his _General History of the
Netherlands to 1608_ (which is mainly based on J. F. LE
PETIT's _Chronique_, printed at Dordrecht in 1601) gives
the following account of the destruction of Antwerp
Castle, which had been built by the Duke of ALVA.

The inhabitants of Antwerp being still in fear, by reason of their Castle, so long as the war was thus wavering, fearing they should be, at some time, again surprised (terming it a den of thieves, an invention of men full of cruelty, a nest of tyranny, a receptacle of all filthy villany abomination and wickedness) obtained leave of the States to dismantle it towards the town.

The which the burghers began the 28th of August [1577], with such spleen as there was neither great nor small (wives children, gentlewomen, and burghers; and all in general) but would pull down a piece of it; men, women, and servants going thither, with their Ensigns displayed, having many victuallers on the plain before the Castle [_the Esplanade_]; so as it seemed a camp. And although the masons' work was great, strong, and thick; yet were they not long in beating it down on that side.

Soon after, in imitation of that of Antwerp, followed the dismantling of the Castles of Ghent, Utrecht, Valenciennes, Bethune, Lille, Aire, and others; and the Citadel of Arras was laid open towards the town. p. 647.]

[Footnote 2: The necessary corrections have been herein made.--E.A.]

[Footnote 3: This Plan of Antwerp at the time of the
Spanish Fury, drawn up from the instructions of GEORGE
GASCOIGNE, is wanting in every copy of this Narrative
that we have met with. We have strenuously searched
for it in every direction; but without success. Its
disappearance is a great loss.--E.A.]

By WILLIAM SMITH.

_Imprinted at London_, by EDMUND BOLLIFANT. 1596.]

_To the most excellent and learned Shepherd COLIN CLOUT_ [i.e. EDMUND SPENSER].

COLIN, my dear and most entire beloved,
My Muse audacious stoops her pitch to thee!
Desiring that thy patience be not moved
By these rude lines, written here you see.
Fain would my Muse, whom cruel Love hath wronged,
Shroud her love-labours under thy protection!
And I myself, with ardent zeal, have longed
That thou mightst know, to thee my true affection.
Therefore, good COLIN, graciously accept
A few sad Sonnets which my Muse hath framed:
Though they but newly from the shell are crept,
Suffer them not by envy to be blamed!
But, underneath the shadow of thy wings,
Give warmth to these young-hatchèd orphan things!

Give warmth to these young-hatchèd orphan things!
Which, chill with cold, to thee for succour creep.
They of my study are the budding springs:
Longer I cannot them in silence keep.
They will be gadding! sore against my mind.
But, courteous Shepherd, if they run astray,
Conduct them, that they may the pathway find:
And teach them how the Mean observe they may!
Thou shalt them ken by their discording notes!
Their weeds are plain, such as poor shepherds wear;
Unshapen, torn, and ragged are their coats:
Yet forth they wandering are, devoid of fear.
They which have tasted of the Muses' spring,
I hope, will smile upon the tunes they sing.

W. SMITH.

FINIS.

_To all Shepherds in general._

YOU whom the World admires for rarest style,
You which have sung the Sonnets of True Love,
Upon my maiden verse with favour smile!
Whose weak-penned Muse, to fly too soon doth prove:
Before her feathers have their full perfection,
She soars aloft, pricked on by blind affection.

You whose deep wits, ingine, and industry,
The everlasting palm of praise have won!
You paragons of learned Poesy
Favour these mists! which fall before you sun:
Intentions leading to a more effect,
If you them grace but with your mild aspect.

And Thou, the Genius of my ill tuned note!
Whose beauty urgèd hath my rustic vein,
Through mighty oceans of despair to float;
That I in rhyme thy cruelty complain:
Vouchsafe to read these lines both harsh and bad!
Nuntiates of Woe, with sorrow being clad.

W. SMITH.

CHLORIS.

SONNET I.

COURTEOUS CALLIOPE, vouchsafe to lend
Thy helping hand to my untunèd Song!
And grace these Lines, which I to write pretend,
Compelled by love which doth poor CORIN wrong.
And those, thy sacred Sisters, I beseech,
Which on Parnassus' Mount do ever dwell,
To shield my country Muse and rural speech
By their divine authority and spell.
Lastly to thee, O PAN, the shepherds' King;
And you swift footed Dryades, I call!
Attend to hear a swain in verse to sing
Sonnets of her that keeps his heart in thrall!
O CHLORIS, weigh the task I undertake!
Thy beauty, subject of my Song I make.

SONNET II.

THY beauty, subject of my Song I make;
O fairest Fair! on whom depends my life:
Refuse not then the task I undertake
To please thy rage, and to appease my strife!
But with one smile remunerate my toil;
None other guerdon I, of thee desire.
Give not my lowly Muse new-hatched the foil,
But warmth; that she may at the length aspire
Unto the temples of thy star-bright Eyes;
Upon whose round orbs perfect Beauty sits:
From whence such glorious crystal Beams arise
As best my CHLORIS' seemly Face befits.
Which Eyes, which Beauty, which bright crystal Beam,
Which Face of thine, hath made my love extreme.

SONNET III.

FEED, silly sheep! although your keeper pineth;
Yet, like to TANTALUS, doth see his food.
Skip you and leap! now bright APOLLO shineth
Whilst I bewail my sorrows in yon wood:
Where woeful PHILOMELA doth record
(And sings with notes of sad and dire lament),
The tragedy wrought by her sister's Lord.
I'll bear a part in her black discontent!
That pipe, which erst was wont to make you glee,
Upon these downs whereon you careless graze,
Shall to her mournful music tunèd be!
Let not my plaints, poor lambkins, you amaze!
There, underneath that dark and dusky bower,
Whole showers of Tears to CHLORIS I will pour!

SONNET IV.

WHOLE showers of Tears to CHLORIS I will pour
As true oblations of my sincere love.
If that will not suffice, most fairest Flower!
Then shall my Sighs, thee to pity move.
If neither Tears nor Sighs can ought prevail;
My streaming Blood thine anger shall appease!
This hand of mine by vigour shall assail
To tear my heart asunder, thee to please!
Celestial powers, on you I invocate!
You know the chaste affections of my mind!
I never did my faith yet violate!
Why should my CHLORIS then be so unkind?
That neither Tears, nor Sighs, nor streaming Blood
Can unto mercy move her cruel mood.

SONNET V.

YOU Fauns and Silvans, when my CHLORIS brings
Her flocks to water in your pleasant plains,
Solicit her to pity CORIN's stings!
The smart whereof, for her, he still sustains.
For she is ruthless of my woeful song.
My oaten reed she not delights to hear.
O CHLORIS! CHLORIS! CORIN thou dost wrong;
Who loves thee better than his own heart dear.
The flames of Etna are not half so hot
As is the fire which thy disdain hath bred.
Ah, cruel Fates! why do you then besot
Poor CORIN's soul with love? when love is fled!
Either cause cruel CHLORIS to relent,
Or let me die upon the wound she sent!

SONNET VI.

YOU lofty Pines, co-partners of my woe,
When CHLORIS sitteth underneath your shade;
To her those sighs and tears, I pray you show,
Whilst you attending, I for her have made.
Whilst you attending droppèd have sweet balm,
In token that you pity my distress:
ZEPHIRUS hath your stately boughs made calm;
Whilst I, to you my sorrows did express.
The neighbour mountains bendèd have their tops,
When they have heard my rueful melody;
And Elves, in rings about me leap and hop,
To frame my passions to their jollity.
Resounding echoes, from their obscure caves
Reiterate what most my fancy craves.

SONNET VII.

WHAT need I mourn? seeing PAN, our sacred King,
Was, of that Nymph, fair SYRINX coy, disdained.
The World's great Light, which comforteth each
thing,
All comfortless for DAPHNE's sake remained.
If gods can find no help to heal the sore
Made by LOVE's shafts, which pointed are with fire;
Unhappy CORIN, then thy chance deplore!
Since they despair by wanting their desire.
I am not PAN, though I a shepherd be;
Yet is my Love as fair as SYRINX was.
My Song cannot with PHŒBUS's tunes agree;
Yet CHLORIS doth his DAPHNE far surpass.
How much more fair, by so much more unkind
Than SYRINX coy, or DAPHNE, I her find.

SONNET VIII.

NO sooner had fair PHŒBUS trimmed his car,
Being newly arisen from AURORA's bed;
But I, in whom Despair and Hope did war,
My unpenned flock unto the mountains led.
Tripping upon the snow-soft downs I spied
Three Nymphs, more fairer than those Beauties Three
Which did appear to PARIS on Mount Ide.
Coming more near, my goddess I there see.
For She, the field Nymphs oftentimes doth haunt,
To hunt with them the fierce and savage boar:
And having sported, Virelays they chant;
Whilst I, unhappy, helpless cares deplore.
There did I call to her, ah, too unkind!
But tiger-like, of me she had no mind.

SONNET IX.

UNTO the fountain, where fair DIANA chaste
The proud ACTEON turnèd to a hart,
I drave my flock that water sweet to taste;
'Cause from the welkin, PHŒBUS 'gan depart.
There did I see the Nymph whom I admire.
Remembering her locks; of which the yellow hue
Made blush the beauties of her curlèd wire.
Which JOVE himself with wonder well might view.
Then red with ire, her tresses she berent;
And weeping hid the beauty of her face:
Whilst I, amazèd at her discontent,
With tears and sighs do humbly sue for grace.
But she, regarding neither tears nor moan,
Flies from the fountain, leaving me alone.

SONNET X.

AM I a GORGON? that she doth me fly!
Or was I hatchèd in the river Nile?
Or doth my CHLORIS stand in doubt that I,
With Siren songs, do seek her to beguile?
If any one of these she can object
'Gainst me, which chaste affectèd love protest;
Then might my fortunes by her frowns be checked:
And blameless She from scandal free might rest.
But seeing I am no hideous monster born;
But have that shape which other men do bear:
Which form great JUPITER did never scorn
Amongst his subjects here on earth to wear.
Why should she then that soul with sorrow fill
Which vowèd hath to love and serve her still?

SONNET XI.

TELL me, my dear, what moves thy ruthless mind
To be so cruel, seeing thou art so fair?
Did Nature frame thy beauty so unkind;
Or dost thou scorn to pity my despair?
O no, it was not Nature's ornament,
But wingèd LOVE's impartial cruel wound,
Which in my heart is ever permanent,
Until my CHLORIS makes me whole and sound.
O glorious Love-God, think on my heart's grief!
Let not thy vassal pine through deep disdain!
By wounding CHLORIS, I shall find relief;
If thou impart to her some of my pain.
She doth thy temples and thy shrines abject!
They with AMINTA's flowers by me are decked.

SONNET XII.

CEASE eyes to weep, sith none bemoans your weeping!
Leave off, good Muse, to sound the cruel name
Of my love's Queen! which hath my heart in keeping;
Yet of my love doth make a jesting game.
Long hath my sufferance laboured to enforce
One pearl of pity from her pretty eyes;
Whilst I, with restless oceans of remorse,
Bedew the banks where my fair CHLORIS lies,
Where my fair CHLORIS bathes her tender skin;
And doth triumph to see such rivers fall
From those moist springs, which never dry have been
Since she their honour hath detained in thrall.
And still she scorns one favouring smile to show
Unto those waves proceeding from my woe.

_A Dream._

SONNET XIII.

WHAT time fair TITAN in the zenith sat
And equally the fixèd poles did heat;
When to my flock my daily woes I chat,
And underneath a broad beech took my seat:
The dreaming god, which MORPHEUS Poets call,
Augmenting fuel to my Etna's fire,
With sleep possessing my weak senses all,
In apparitions makes my hopes aspire.
Methought I saw the Nymph I would embrace,
With arms abroad, coming to me for help:
A lust-led Satyr having her in chase;
Which after her, about the fields, did yelp.
I seeing my Love in perplexed plight,
A sturdy bat from off an oak I reft;
And with the ravisher continued fight
Till breathless I upon the earth him left.
Then when my coy Nymph saw her breathless foe,
With kisses kind she gratifies my pain;
Protesting never rigour more to show.
Happy was I this good hap to obtain.
But drowsy slumbers, flying to their cell,
My sudden joy convertèd was to bale.
My wontèd sorrows still with me do dwell.
I lookèd round about on hill and dale:
But I could neither my fair CHLORIS view;
Not yet the Satyr, which erst while I slew.

SONNET XIV.

MOURNFUL AMYNTAS, thou didst pine with care,
Because the Fates, by their untimely doom,
Of life bereft thy loving PHILLIS fair;
When thy love's Spring did first begin to bloom.
My care doth countervail that care of thine;
And yet my CHLORIS draws her angry breath:
My hopes, still hoping, hopeless now repine;
For living, She doth add to me but death.
Thy PHILLIS dying, lovèd thee full dear.
My CHLORIS living, hates poor CORIN's love.
Thus doth my woe as great as thine appear;
Though sundry accents both our sorrows move.
Thy swan-like Song did shew thy dying anguish:
These weeping Truce-men shew I living languish.

SONNET XV.

THESE weeping Truce-men shew I living languish;
My woeful wailings tell my discontent:
Yet CHLORIS nought esteemeth of mine anguish;
My thrilling throbs, her heart cannot relent.
My kids to hear the rhymes and roundelays,
Which I, on wasteful hills, was wont to sing,
Did more delight than lark in summer days:
Whole echo made the neighbour groves to ring.
But now my flock, all drooping, bleats and cries;
Because my Pipe, the author of their sport,
All rent, and torn, and unrespected, lies:
Their lamentations do my cares consort.
They cease to feed, and listen to the plaint;
Which I pour forth unto a cruel Saint.

SONNET XVI.

WHICH I pour forth unto a cruel Saint,
Who merciless my prayers doth attend:
Who tiger-like doth pity my complaint;
And never unto my woes will lend.
But still false hope despairing life deludes;
And tells my fancy I shall grace obtain.
But CHLORIS fair, my orisons concludes
With fearful frowns, presagers of my pain.
Thus do I spend the weary wandering day,
Oppressèd with a chaos of heart's grief:
Thus I consume the obscure night away,
Neglecting sleep which brings all cares relief.
Thus I pass my lingering life in woe:
But when my bliss will come, I do not know!

SONNET XVII.

THE perils which LEANDER took in hand,
Fair HERO's love and favour to obtain;
When, void of fear, securely leaving land,
Through Hellespont he swam to Cestos main:
His dangers should not counterpoise my toil.
If my dear Love would once but pity show,
To quench these flames which in my breast do broil,
Or dry these springs which from mine eyes do flow;
Not only Hellespont, but ocean seas,
For her sweet sake, to ford I would attempt!
So that my travails would her ire appease;
My soul, from thrall and languish to exempt.
O what is't not, poor I, would undertake;
If labour could my peace with CHLORIS make?

SONNET XVIII.

MY Love, I cannot thy rare beauties place
Under those forms which many Writers use.
Some like to stones, compare their Mistress' face.
Some in the name of flowers do love abuse.
Some make their love a goldsmith's shop to be,
Where orient pearls and precious stones abound.
In my conceit these far do disagree
The perfect praise of beauty forth to sound.
O CHLORIS, thou dost imitate thyself!
Self's imitating passeth precious stones
Or all the Eastern Indian golden pelf,
Thy red and white, with purest fair atones,
Matchless for beauty Nature hath thee framed:
Only "unkind" and "cruel" thou art named.

SONNET XIX.

THE Hound, by eating grass, doth find relief:
For, being sick, it is his choicest meat.
The wounded Hart doth ease his pain and grief;
If he, the herb _Dictamion_ may eat.
The loathsome Snake renews his sight again,
When he casts off his withered coat and hue.
The sky-bred Eagle fresh age doth obtain
When he, his beak decayèd doth renew.
I worse than these, whose sore no salve can cure;
Whose grief, no herb, nor plant, nor tree can ease:
Remediless, I still must pain endure
Till I, my CHLORIS's furious mood can please.
She, like the scorpion, gave to me a wound;
And, like the scorpion, she must make me sound.

SONNET XX.

YE wasteful woods, bear witness of my woe!
Wherein my plaints did oftentimes abound.
Ye, careless birds, my sorrows well do know!
They, in your songs, were wont to make a sound.
Thou, pleasant spring, canst record likewise bear.
Of my designs and sad disparagement!
When thy transparent billows mingled were
With those downfalls which from mine eyes were sent.
The echo of my still-lamenting cries,
From hollow vaults, in treble voice resoundeth;
And then into the empty air it flies,
And back again from whence it came reboundeth.
That Nymph, unto my clamours doth reply,
"Being likewise scorned in love, as well as I."

SONNET XXI.

"BEING likewise scorned in love as well as I"
By that self-loving Boy; which did disdain
To hear her, after him for love to cry:
For which in dens obscure she doth remain.
Yet doth she answer to each speech and word
And renders back the last of what we speak.
But 'specially, if she might have her choice,
She of "Unkindness" would her talk forth break.
She loves to hear of Love's most sacred name;
Although, poor Nymph, in love she was despised:
And ever since she hides her head for shame,
That her true meaning was so lightly prized.
She, pitying me, part of my woes doth hear;
As you, good Shepherds, list'ning now shall hear.

SONNET XXII.

O FAIREST Fair, to thee I make my plaint, my plaint,
To thee from whom my cause of grief doth spring: doth spring:
Attentive be unto the groans, sweet Saint! sweet Saint!
Which unto thee in doleful tunes I sing. I sing.
My mournful Muse doth always speak of thee. of thee.
My love is pure, O do not it disdain! disdain!
With bitter sorrow still oppress not me; not me;
But mildly look upon me which complain. which complain.
Kill not my true-affecting thoughts; but give but give
Such precious balm of comfort to my heart, my heart,
That casting off despair, in hope to live, hope to live,
I may find help at length to ease my smart. to ease my smart.
So shall you add such courage to my love, my love,
That fortune false, my faith shall not remove. shall not remove.

SONNET XXIII.

THE Phœnix fair which rich Arabia breeds,
When wasting time expires her tragedy;
No more on PHŒBUS' radiant rayes she feeds:
But heapeth up great store of spicery;
And on a lofty tow'ring cedar tree,
With heavenly substance, she herself consumes.
From whence she young again appears to be,
Out of the cinders of her peerless plumes.
So I, which long have frièd in love's flame,
The fire, not made of spice, but sighs and tears,
Revive again, in hope Disdain to shame,
And put to flight the author of my fears.
Her eyes revive decaying life in me;
Though they augmentors of my thraldom be.

SONNET XXIV.

THOUGH they augmentors of my thraldom be:
For her I live, and her I love and none else.
O then, fair eyes, look mildly upon me!
Who poor, despised, forlorn, must live alone else:
And, like AMYNTAS, haunt the desert cells
(And moneyless there breathe out thy cruelty)
Where none but Care and Melancholy dwell.
I, for revenge, to NEMESIS will cry!
If that will not prevail; my wandering ghost,
Which breathless here this love-scorched trunk shall leave,
Shall unto thee, with tragic tidings post!
How thy disdain did life from soul bereave.
Then, all too late, my death thou wilt repent!
When murder's guilt, thy conscience shall torment.

SONNET XXV.

WHO doth not know that LOVE is triumphant,
Sitting upon the throne of majesty?
The gods themselves, his cruel darts do daunt:
And he, blind boy, smiles at their misery!
LOVE made great JOVE ofttimes transform his shape.
LOVE made the fierce ALCIDES stoop at last.
ACHILLES, stout and bold, could not escape
The direful doom which LOVE upon him cast.
LOVE made LEANDER pass the dreadful flood,
Which Cestos from Abydos doth divide.
LOVE made a chaos where proud Ilion stood.
Through LOVE the Carthaginian DIDO died.
Thus may we see how LOVE doth rule and reign;
Bringing those under, which his power disdain.

SONNET XXVI.

THOUGH you be fair and beautiful withal;
And I am black, for which you me despise:
Know that your beauty subject is to fall!
Though you esteem it at so high a price.
And time may come when that whereof you boast,
Which is your youth's chief wealth and ornament,
Shall withered be by winter's raging frost;
When beauty's pride and flowering years are spent.
Then wilt thou mourn! when none shall thee respect.
Then wilt thou think how thou hast scorned my tears!
Then, pitiless, each one will thee neglect;
When hoary grey shall dye thy yellow hairs.
Then wilt thou think upon poor CORIN's case!
Who loved thee dear, yet lived in thy disgrace.

SONNET XXVII.

O LOVE, leave off with sorrows to torment me!
Let my heart's grief and pining pain content thee!
The breach is made; I give thee leave to enter!
Thee to resist, great god, I dare not venture!
Restless desire doth aggravate my anguish;
Careful conceits do fill my soul with languish:
Be not too cruel, in thy conquest gained!
Thy deadly shafts have victory obtained!
Batter no more my Fort with fierce affection;
But shield me, captive, under thy protection!

[_Two lines wanting._]

I yield to thee, O Love, thou art the stronger!
Raise then thy siege, and trouble me no longer!

SONNET XXVIII.

WHAT cruel star, or fate, had dominion
When I was born? that thus my love is crossed.
Or from what planet had I derivation?
That thus my life in seas of woe is crossed.
Doth any live that ever hath such hap,
That all their actions are of none effect?
Whom Fortune never dandled in her lap;
But, as an abject, still doth me reject.
Ah, fickle Dame! and yet thou constant art
My daily grief and anguish to increase!
And to augment the troubles of my heart;
Thou, of these bonds will never me release!
So that thy darlings, me to be may know,
The true Idea of all Worldly Woe.

SONNET XXIX.

SOME in their hearts, their Mistress's colours bear;
Some hath her gloves; some other hath her garters;
Some in a bracelet wear her golden hair;
And some with kisses seal their loving charters:
But I, which never favour reapèd yet,
Nor had one pleasant look from her fair brow;
Content myself in silent shade to sit,
In hope at length my cares to overplow.
Meanwhile mine eyes shall feed on her fair face!
My sighs shall tell to her my sad designs!
My painful pen shall ever sue for grace!
To help my heart, which languishing now pines.
And I will triumph still amidst my woe,
Till mercy shall my sorrows overflow.

SONNET XXX.

THE raging sea, within his limits lies;
And with an ebb, his flowing doth discharge:
The rivers, when beyond their bounds they rise,
Themselves do empty in the ocean large:
But my love's sea, which never limit keepeth;
Which never ebbs, but always ever floweth,
In liquid salt unto my CHLORIS weepeth;
Yet frustrate are the tears which he bestoweth.
This sea, which first was but a little spring,
Is now so great, and far beyond all reason,
That it a deluge to my thoughts doth bring;
Which overwhelmèd hath my joying season.
So hard and dry is my Saint's cruel mind;
These waves no way in her to sink can find.

SONNET XXXI.

THESE waves no way in her to sink can find;
To penetrate the pith of contemplation.
These tears cannot dissolve her hardened mind,
Nor move her heart on me to take compassion.
O then, poor CORIN, scorned and quite despised,
Loathe now to live! since life procures my woe.
Enough thou hast thy heart anatomised,
For her sweet sake which will no pretty show.
But as cold winter's storms and nipping frosts
Can never change sweet AMARANTHUS' hue;
So, though my love and life by her are crossed,
My heart shall still be constant firm and true!
Although ERINNYES hinder HYMEN's rites,
My fixèd faith against oblivion fights.

SONNET XXXII.