Chapter IX: Front Matter (9)

The _Silks_ [were] Damasks, Taffatas, Sarcenets,
_Altobassos_ that is counterfeit Cloth of Gold, unwrought
China Silk, Sleaved Silk, White twisted Silk, Curled
Cypress [=_Cypress lawn, a cobweb lawn or crape_].

The _Calicoes_ were Book Calicoes, Calico Lawns, Broad
white Calicoes, Fine starched Calicoes, Coarse white
Calicoes, Brown broad Calicoes, Brown coarse Calicoes.

There were also Canopies, and coarse Diaper Towels;
_Quilts_ of coarse Sarcenet, and of Calico; _Carpets_
like those of Turkey.

Whereunto are to be added the Pearls, Musk, Civet, and
Ambergris.

The rest of the wares were many in number; but less in value: as Elephants' teeth; Porcelain vessels of China; Cocoanuts; Hides; Ebony wood, as black as jet; Bedsteads of the same; Cloth of the rinds of trees, very strange for the matter, and artificial in workmanship.

All which piles of commodities being, by men of approved judgment, rated but in reasonable sort, amounted to no less than £150,000 sterling [=£600,000 _to_ £700,000 _now_]: which being divided among the Adventurers whereof Her Majesty was the chief, was sufficient to yield contentment to all parties.

* * * * *

The [above] cargazon [_cargo_] being taken out [at Dartmouth], and the goods freighted in ten of our ships, [and] sent for London; to the end that the bigness, height, length, breadth, and other dimensions, of so huge a vessel might, by the exact rules of geometrical observations, be truly taken, both for present knowledge and derivation [_transmission_] also of the same unto posterity: one Master ROBERT ADAMS, a man in his faculty of excellent skill, omitted nothing in the description which either his art could demonstrate; or any man's judgment think worthy the memory.

[Sidenote: The capacity and dimensions of the _Madre de Dios_.]

After an exquisite survey of the whole frame, he found: The length, from the beak-head to the stern, whereupon was erected a lantern, to contain 165 feet.

The breadth, in the second Close deck, whereof she had
three; this being the place where was most extension of
breadth, was 46 feet 10 inches.

She drew in water 31 feet at her departure from Cochin
in India: but not above 26 [feet] at her arrival in
Dartmouth; being lightened in her voyage, by divers
means, some 5 feet.

She carried in height, seven several stories [or decks]:
one main Orlop, three Close decks, one Fore-castle, and a
Spar deck of two floors apiece.

The length of the keel was 100 feet: of the Mainmast 121
feet; and the circuit about, at the partners, 10 feet, 7
inches.

The main-yard was 106 feet long.

By which perfect commensuration of the parts appeareth the hugeness of the whole: far beyond the mould of the biggest shipping used among us, either for war or receit [_burden_].

* * * * *

Don ALONSO DE BAÇAN (having a great Fleet: and suffering these two Carracks, the _Santa Cruz_ to be burnt; and the _Madre de Dios_ to be taken) was disgraced by his Prince for his negligence.

Captain NICHOLAS DOWNTON.

_The firing and sinking of the stout and warlike Carrack,
called_ Las Cinque Llagas _or_ The Five Wounds [_of the
Cross at Calvary, usually called the_ Stigmata] _by
three tall ships set forth at the charges of the Right
Honourable [GEORGE CLIFFORD] the Earl of CUMBERLAND and
his friends._

[Sidenote: Besides these three ships; there was a Pinnace, called the _Violet_, or the _Why not I?_]

IN the latter end of the year 1593, the Right Honourable [GEORGE CLIFFORD,] Earl of CUMBERLAND, at his own charges and his friends', prepared three tall ships, all at [an] equal rate and either [_each_] of them had [the] like quantity of victuals and [the] like number of men: there being embarked in all three ships, 420 men of all sorts.

The _Royal Exchange_ went as Admiral [_Flag Ship_]; wherein Master GEORGE CAVE was Captain. The _May Flower_, Vice Admiral, [was] under the conduct of [Captain] WILLIAM ANTHONIE. And the _Sampson_, the charge whereof, it please his Honour to commit unto me, NICHOLAS DOWNTON.

The directions were sent to us to Plymouth; and we were to open them at sea.

The 6th of April 1594, we set sail in the Sound of Plymouth, directing our course toward the Coast of Spain.

The 24th of the said month, at the Admiral's direction; we divided ourselves East and West from each other, being then in the height of 43° [North]: with commandment at night to come together again.

[Sidenote: Commodities fit for Angola.]

The 27th, in the morning, we descried the _May Flower_ and the little Pinnace [the _Violet_] with a prize that they had taken; being of Vianna [do Castello] in Portugal, and bound for Angola in Africa. This Bark was of 28 tons; having some 17 persons in the same. There were in her, some 12 butts of Galicia wine; whereof we took into every ship a like part: with some Rusk in chests and barrels, with 5 butts of blue coarse cloth, and certain coarse linen cloth for Negroes' shirts; which goods were divided among our Fleet.

The 4th of May, we had sight of our Pinnace and the Admiral's shallop: which had taken three Portugal Caravels; whereof they had sent two away, and kept the third.

The 2nd of June, we had sight of St. Michael, [ one of the Azores].

The 3rd day, in the morning, we sent our small Pinnace, which was of some 24 tons, with the small Caravel which we had taken at the Burlings, to range the road[s] [_harbours_] of all the Islands; to see if they could get anything in the same: appointing them to meet us W.S.W. 12 leagues from Fayal. Their going from us was to no purpose. They missed coming to us, when we appointed: also we missed them, when we had great cause to have used them.

* * * * *

The 13th of June, we met with a mighty Carrack of the East Indies, called _Las Cinque Llagas_, or _The Five Wounds_. The _May Flower_ was in fight with her before night. I, in the _Sampson_, fetched her up in the evening; and (as I commanded to give her the broad side, as we term it) while I stood very heedfully prying to discover her strength; and where I might give counsel to board her in the night, when the Admiral came [_should come_] up to us; and, as I remember, at the very first shot she discharged at us, I was shot in a little above the belly; whereby I was made unserviceable for a good while after, without [the Portuguese] touching [_hurting_] any other for that night.

Yet, by means of an honest true-hearted man which I had with me, one Captain GRANT, nothing was neglected.

Until midnight, when the Admiral came up; the _May Flower_ and the _Sampson_ never left, by turns, to ply her with their great ordnance: but then Captain CAVE wished us to stay till morning; at what time each one of us should give her three bouts with our great ordnance, and so should clap her aboard.

But indeed it was long lingered in the morning, until ten of the clock, before we attempted to board her. The Admiral laid her aboard in the mid ship: the _May Flower_ coming up in the quarter, as it should seem, to lie at the stern of the Admiral on the larboard side.

[WILLIAM ANTHONIE] the Captain of the said _May Flower_ was slain at the first coming up: whereby the ship fell to the stern of the out-licar of the Carrack; which, being a piece of timber, so wounded her Foresail, that they said they could come no more to [the] fight. I am sure they did not; but kept aloof from us.

The _Sampson_ were aboard on the bow [of the Carrack]; but having not room enough, our quarter lay on the [_Royal_] _Exchange_'s and our bow on the Carrack's bow.

The _Exchange_ also, at the first coming, had her Captain, Master [GEORGE] CAVE, shot in both the legs; the one whereof he never recovered: so he, for that present, was not able to do his office; and, in his absence, he had not any that would undertake to lead out his Company to enter upon the Enemy.

My friend, Captain GRANT, did lead my men on the Carrack's side; which, being not manfully backed by the _Exchange_'s men, his forces being small, made the Enemy bolder than he would have been: whereby I had six men presently slain, and many more hurt; which made them that remained unhurt to return aboard, and [they] would never more give the assault. I say not but some of the _Exchange_'s men did very well: and many more, no doubt, would have done the like, if there had been any principal man to have put them forward, and to have brought all the Company to the fight; and not to have run into corners themselves. But I must needs say that their ship [_the Carrack_] was as well provided for defence as any that I have seen.

And the Portugals, peradventure encouraged by our slack working, played the men; and had Barricadoes made where they might stand without any danger of our shot. They plied us also very much with fire, so that most of our men were burnt in some place or other: and while our men were putting out the fire, they would ever be plying them with small shot or darts. This unusual casting of fire did much dismay many of our men, and made them draw back as they did.

When we had not men to enter; we plied our great ordnance much at them, as high up as they might be mounted: for otherwise we did them little harm. And by shooting a piece out of our forecastle, being close by her, we fired a mat on her beak-head: which [fire] more and more kindled, and ran from thence to the mat on the bowsprit; and from the mat, up to the wood of the bowsprit; and thence to the topsail-yard; which fire made the Portugals abaft in the ship to stagger, and to make show of _parlé_. But they that had the charge before, encouraged them; making show that it might easily be put out, and that it was nothing. Whereupon again they stood stiffly to their defence.

Anon the fire grew so strong that I saw it [to be] beyond all help; although she had been already yielded to us. Then we desired to be off from her, but had little hope to [have] obtained our desire. Nevertheless we plied water very much to keep our ship well. Indeed I made little other reckoning for the ship, myself, and divers hurt men; [but] then to have ended there with the Carrack: but most of our people might have saved themselves in boats. And when my care was most, by GOD's Providence only, by the burning asunder of our spritsail-yard with [its] ropes and sail, and the ropes about the spritsail-yard of the Carrack, whereby we were fast entangled, we fell apart; with [the] burning of some of our sails which we had then on board.

The _Exchange_ also, being further from the fire, afterward was more easily cleared; and fell off from abaft.

As soon as GOD had put us out of danger, the fire got into the Fore-castle [of the Carrack]; where, I think, was store of Benjamin [_the gum Benzoin_] and such other like combustible matter: for it flamed and ran all over the Carrack in an instant, in a manner. The Portugals leapt overboard in great numbers.

* * * * *

Then sent I, Captain GRANT with the boat; with leave to use his own discretion in saving of them. So he brought me aboard two Gentlemen:

The one, an old man, called NUNO VELIO PEREIRA which, as appeareth by the Fourth Chapter in the First Book of the worthy _History_ of [JAN] HUYGHEN VAN LINSCHOTEN, was Governor of Mozambique and Cefala [_Sofala_] in the year 1582 [See _English Garner_ III, 27, 28.]: and since that time, had been likewise a Governor in a place of importance in the East Indies. And the ship [_a Carrack_], wherein he was coming home, was cast away a little to the east of the Cape of _Buona Speranza_ [Cape of Good Hope]: and from thence, he travelled overland to Mozambique; and came, as a passenger, in this Carrack.

The other was called BRAS CARRERO, and [he] was Captain of a Carrack which was cast away near Mozambique; and [he] came likewise in this ship for a passenger.

Also three men of the inferior sort we saved in our boat. Only these two we clothed, and brought into England. The rest, which were taken up by the other ships' boats, we set all on shore in the Isle of Flores: except some two or three Negroes; whereof one was born in the Mozambique, and another in the East Indies.

* * * * *

This fight was open off the Sound between Fayal and Pico; six leagues to the southward.

The people which we saved told us, That the cause why they would not yield was because this Carrack was for the King; and that she had all the goods belonging to the King in the country [_India_] for that year in her; and that the Captain of her was in favour with the King; and at his [next] return into the Indies, should have been Viceroy there.

And withal this ship was nothing at all pestered; neither within board, nor without: and was more like a Ship of War than otherwise. Moreover, she had the ordnance of a Carrack that was cast away at Mozambique, and the [Ship's] Company of her: together with the [Ship's] Company of another Carrack that was cast away a little to the eastward of the Cape of _Buona Speranza_. Yet through sickness, which they caught at Angola, where they watered; they said, They had not now above 150 white men: but negroes, a great many.

They likewise affirmed that they had three Noblemen and three Ladies in her: but we found them to differ in most of their talk.

* * * * *

All this day [14th June 1594] and all the night she burned: but, next morning, her powder, which was lowest, being 60 barrels, blew her abroad; so that most of the ship did swim in parts above the water.

* * * * *

Some of them say, That she was bigger than the _Madre de Dios_; and some, That she was less. But she was much undermasted, and undersailed [_carrying too little sail_]: yet she went well for a ship that was so foul.

The shot which we [in the _Samson_] made at her in great ordnance, before we lay her aboard, might be at seven bouts [_broadsides_] which we had, and 6 or 7 shot at a bout, one with another, some 49 shots. The time we lay aboard [the Carrack] might be two hours. The shot which we discharged [while] aboard the Carrack, might be [that of] some 24 sakers.

And thus much may suffice concerning our dangerous conflict with that unfortunate Carrack.

* * * * *

The last of June [1594], after long traversing of the seas, we had sight of another mighty Carrack; which divers of our Company, at the first, took to be the great _San Philip_, the Admiral [_or Flag Ship_] of Spain; but the next day, being the 1st of July [1594], fetching her up, we perceived her indeed to be a Carrack: which, after some few shot bestowed upon her, we summoned to yield; but they, standing stoutly to their defence, utterly refused the same.

Wherefore, seeing no good could be done without boarding her, I consulted what course we should take in the boarding. But by reason that we, which were the chief Captains, were partly slain, and partly wounded, in the former conflict; and because of the murmuring of some disordered and cowardly companions: our valiant and resolute determinations were crossed. And, to conclude a long discourse in few words, the Carrack escaped our hands.

* * * * *

After this, attending about Corvo and Flores for some West Indian purchase [_booty_], and being disappointed of our expectation; and victuals growing short, we returned to England: where I arrived at Portsmouth, the 28th of August [1594].

[Footnote 5: By noon, or one of the clock, of that day, being the 3rd
of August [1592], the _Dainty_ came near her so that the Gunner, whose
name was THOMAS BEDOME (being a proper tall man: and had
very good aim at anything, and good luck withal), desired the Captain
[THOMSON] he might give them a shoot: to let them understand
that they were Englishmen; and, under Her Highness, Commanders of the
Seas.

The Captain (having great care; and not willing to have any shoot shot
in vain) commanded him to forbear till they should come nearer her;
which was not long: when the Captain commanded him to do his best; and
carousing a can of wine to his Company, encouraged them to begin the
fight.

And coming up, [he] hailed them, after the manner of the sea; and
commanded them to strike for the Queen of England: which they no
sooner refused, but the Gunner, being ready, gave fire to
two whole culverins in her chase; and racked and tore her pitifully.

Bearing up with them, [we] gave them the whole [broad] side; and
boarded them presently: who resisted most courageously, and put us off
again.

Thus continued the _Dainty_ in fight a pretty while before any others
could come to help her.

In which time, she laid her aboard three several times, tore her
Ancient [_Flag_] from her Poop, and slew her Captain [?]. And more
harm had done them: but that, by chance, a shot bare their Foremast by
the board; which they were compelled to splice again, to their great
trouble.

_The Seaman's Triumph._ [30th September] 1592.]

[Footnote 6: The next was Her Majesty's good Ship, the _Foresight_;
whose Commander for that Service was Captain [Sir ROBERT]
CROSSE (a man well approved in marine causes, and far hath
adventured): who with his ship laid her aboard, and very valiantly
assailed them; and was most stoutly by the Spaniards also repulsed.

Insomuch that the brave Captain, of whose men, many were weak; and yet
being loath Her Majesty's Ship should be shaken off without victory,
fired the Carrack: rather wishing her to be burnt, than the enemies
to enjoy her. But the proud and lofty-minded Spaniards, standing on
their resolute points, returned the fire again, or some other: which
three times was kindled [on board the FORESIGHT]; to the great
cumber of Captain CROSSE and his Company, that would not so
leave them.

This dangerous conflict between these ships endured [a] long time.
Which the _Phœnix_ of Portsmouth perceiving...being of 60 tons or
thereabouts...left her for a time; standing with their Admiral and
Vice-Admiral, which were the _Tiger_ and the _Sampson_: and coming up
with them, declared unto them the hardy fight of the _Foresight_; who
presently bare up with them all the night. The _Sampson_, being the
first, coming up with the Carrack, gave her the whole broadside: and
shutting up into the _Foresight_'s quarter, entered his men into her.

Captain NORTON, that brave and worthy Gentleman, laid her also
aboard, having the _Tiger_ with him.

And so [all three crews] entered together, being 100 men at the least,
all resolutely minded. At whose entrance they yielded so great a cry as
the dismayed Portugals and Spaniards could not bethink themselves what
course to take to help themselves: in such a maze were they stricken,
although they were [originally] 800 strong, all well-appointed and able
men; and of ours but 100. But standing thus, as men amazed, at length
[they] yielded themselves vanquished.

_The Seaman's Triumph._ [30th September] 1592.]

[Footnote 7: They gan to consult, What were best to do with the
prisoners, which were many? And finding their great scarcity of
victuals; and not knowing what weather they might have; nor how it
might please GOD with good wind to prosper them: it was concluded to
ship as many of them as they might; and to send them for Lisbon. This
they fully determined; and provision was made of a Bark of Dover, which
they met: the Fleet taking in her men, and such provision as they had
in her; and embarked the Spaniards and Portingals, with their Negroes,
whereof were many. And gave them, with them, store of victuals; and so
gave them leave to depart; detaining none but the principalest of them.

_The Seaman's Triumph._ [30th September] 1592.]

[Footnote 8: The conflict ended, it were a world of wonder to recount
unto you the true reports, how our men bestirred themselves in
searching and prying into every corner of her as far as they might: as
they might well do, having with so great danger overcome her. The sight
of the riches, within the same contained, did so amaze the Companies
(that were within board of her: and that still came from every ship;
being desirous to see what GOD had sent them, after so long and hot
a fight) that many of them could not tell what to take; such was the
store and goodness thereof.

Yea, he that had known what [the] things had been worth, in a little
room might have contrived great wealth. For it is credibly reported
that some younkers happened to find many Jars of Civet, which is of
great worth; and [it having been] of some long time closely kept was
cause, when they opened the same, it yielded no savour: and they,
ignorant and not knowing what it should be, thinking it but trash, as
it came to their hands, heaved it overboard. Many other things were
so spoiled [_destroyed_] for want of knowledge; when every man had
sufficient, and that not one had cause to complain.

_The Seaman's Triumph._ [30th September] 1592.]

The Toys of a Traveller:
or
The Feast of Fancy.

DIVIDED INTO THREE PARTS.

BY

R[OBERT] T[OFTE],
Gentleman.

_Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda._

LONDON,
Printed by VALENTINE SIMMES.
1597.]

_To the no less virtuous than fair, the
Honourable Lady LUCY, sister to
the thrice renowned and noble
Lord, HENRY [PERCY] Earl
of NORTHUMBERLAND._

GOOD Madam, I make bold to present unto you a few Toys of mine own travail: [the] most part conceived in Italy, and some of them brought forth in England. By which my imperfections, you may see, as in a lively mirror, your own perfections; and by the follies of my rechlesse [_heedless_] youth, behold plainly the virtues of your flowering age: hoping your Ladyship will keep them as privately, as I send them unto you most willingly.

Neither doubt I at all but that your excellent spirit will judge graciously of this my bare, yet bounden, conceit; and to accept the same, as a mean[s], at idle times, to drive away that self-pleasing, yet ill-easing, humour of never-glad melancholy, which spiteful Fortune, seeking (though in vain) most injuriously to insult over you, laboureth by all means possible to inflict upon you: the virtuous behaviour of yourself being such as, even in the midst of all your crosses, you cross her designs with an invincible heart, and with your honourable carriage carry her, with all her devices, as a slave to follow you, in all your generous and thrice-noble actions; maugre the intricate labyrinth of so many and infinite troubles allotted, most unworthily, unto you, by the irrevocable doom of your too partial and flinty Destiny. All which notwithstanding, you bear and over-bear, with a most resolute staiedness; and a resolved courage of a right PERCY, and of a mind _A per se_.

But additions breed suspicions; and fair words, for the most part are counted the blazons of flattery: therefore I will leave to the temperate judgment of the wise, and to the uncorrupt censure of the worthier sort, your heroical and undaunted mind; and the integrity and never-stained proceedings of your spotless self.

Only this, with submission, will I say, that if the richness of the ground is known by the corn; the daintiness of the water, by the sweetness of the fish; and the goodness of the tree, by the rareness of the fruit: then may every man give a guess of the internal habit and excellent qualities of your inward mind, by the outward behaviour and apparent semblance of your exceeding chaste, and more than admirable, demeanour in every respect.

And thus, hoping your Honour will as debonairly accept of these Trifles, as I dutifully bequeath them unto you; and with the sun-shining favour of your gracious aspect deign to read these few lines: craving both privilege, and pardon, for all such faults and defects as shall happen to be discovered in the same,

I humbly devote myself unto
Your Ladyship's thrice-virtuous and immaculate
disposition and command whatsoever,
Who am bound, as a vassal,
To do homage unto the same for ever,

R. T.

_To the Gentle, and Gentlemen, Readers whatsoever._

GENTLEMEN. As the Fencer first maketh a flourish with his weapon before he cometh to strokes, in playing [for] his prize: so I thought good, _pro formâ_ only, to use these few lines unto you, before you come to the pith of the matter.

What the Gentleman was, that wrote these verses, I know not; and what She is, for whom they are devised, I cannot guess: but thus much I can say, That as they came into the hands of a friend of mine [? _the_ R. B. _of page_ 340] by mere fortune; so happened I upon them by as great a chance.

Only in this I must confess we are both to blame, that whereas he having promised to keep private the original; and I, the copy, secret: we have both consented to send it abroad, as common; presuming chiefly upon your accustomed courtesies. Assuring ourselves, if we may have your protections, we shall think ourselves as safe as ULYSSES did, when he was shadowed under the shield of PALLAS against furious AJAX; so we, by your countenances, shall be sufficiently furnished to encounter against any foul-mouthed JACKS whatsoever.

To censure of this Work is for better wits than mine own: and it is for Poets, not Printers [_This therefore was written by VALENTINE SIMMES, the Printer of this Book. See also page 340_] to give judgement of this matter. Yet, if I may be bold to report what I have heard other Gentlemen affirm, Many have written worse; Some, better; Few, so well. The Work, being so full of Choice and Change as, it is thought, it will rather delight every way than dislike any way.

Thus, courteous Gentlemen, building upon my wonted foundation of your friendly acceptance, I rest your debtors; and will study, in what I can, daily to make you amends.

Yours always

[VALENTINE SIMMES.]

_Alla bellissima sua Signora._

_E. C._

[The Lady's name was E. CARIL: see Book II., Poem XXXIII.,
at page 313.]

THROUGH thee, not of thee, Lady fair I write;
Through power of Beauty, not of Virtues, thine:
With zealous will, though slender be my might,
I, weakling, seek an eagle's nest to climb.
Then guide my feet! and if to slip I chance,
Uphold me by the favour of thy glance!

Accept in gree these verses rudely penned;
A sign of duty which to thee I owe:
And deign with sweet regard them to defend;
Which as condemnèd else are like to go.
In thee, it rests the stamp on them to set:
If current, Pass! Suppressed! if counterfeit.

[Sidenote: R and T stand here, and elsewhere, for the initials of the Author. E.A.]

And though the note, thy praises only fit,
Of sweetest bird, the dulcet nightingale:
Disdain not little Robin RedbreasT yet!
[_A line wanting._]
What he doth want in learning or in skill;
He doth supply with zeal of his good will

For only Thee, they were devised alone:
And unto Thee, they dedicated are.
Who knows? Perhaps this kindness, by thee shown,
Shall make this glimpse shine like a glittering star.
Such is thy virtue in the World his sight;
Thy crow though black, may go for swan most white.

Then doubt me not, though parted we remain:
In England thou; and I in Italy.
As I did part, I will return again,
Loyal to thee; or else with shame I'll die!
True Lovers, when they travel countries strange,
The air, and not their constant minds, do change.

_Coelum, non animum, mutant, qui trans mare currunt._

_Affettionatissimo servid, della
divina Bellezza sua_.

R. T.

LAURA.

THE FIRST PART.

I.

FORTUNE, cross-friend to ever-conquering Love,
Our bodies, Lady, hath divided far;
But yet our constant minds she cannot move,
Which over-strong for her devices are.
Woe's me! in England thou dost bide, and I,
Scarce shadow of my self, in Italy.
But let her do her worst, and what is frail
And mortal seek to separate and undo;
Yet what immortal is, she never shall!
A string too high for her to reach unto.
In spite of envious seeds, by malice sown,
My heart shall aye be thine; and mine, thine own!

_Padoa._

II.

THOUGH I do part, my heart yet doth not part;
My poor afflicted body parts in twain,
And doth in pieces two divide my heart:
One piece my fainting spirit doth sustain,
The other part I leave with thee behind,
(The better part, and of my heart most dear);
Then to that part, so parted, be thou kind!
And to the same impart thy loving cheer!
That I, returning, may again unite
This parted heart; and find for grief, delight.

_London._

III.

LIKE to the blacksome Night, I may compare
My Mistress' gown, when darkness 'plays his prize:
But her sweet face, like to the sun most fair;
When he in glory 'ginneth to arise.
Yet this no whit the other doth disgrace;
But rather doubleth Beauty in the place.
Contraries like to these set opposite,
So dainty and so pleasing in their show
To lookers on, do breed no small delight;
And pleasure great thereby to them doth grow.
O wonder strange! O solace sweet! to see
In one self subject, Night and Day to be.

IV.

IN the Egean dangerous Sea of Love,
In midst of faithless waves and wicked wind;
Where, to my cost, most bitter brunts I prove:
A new ARION, there, myself I find.
And though, as he, I play on harp and sing;
Yet cannot cunning mine so high aspire
As for to make the skipping fish me bring
Unto that wishèd shore I so desire.
Only my LAURA, peerless for to see,
May, in this troubled flood, my dolphin be!

V.

GREAT was the strife between the sun on high
And my fair Sun, when first she 'gan to 'pear,
Who should exceed in brightest majesty;
And show in sight of spacious world most clear.
The sun did shine; but she did lighten bright,
And so his burning beams extinguished quite.
Nay more, my Sun on sudden to the sun
Sent light; and yet no light at all did want:
Where else the other had been quite undone
For lack of brightness; which with him was scant.
The beauty then the sun doth use to show,
My Sun doth give; and from her, it doth grow.

VI.

TURNED to a stone was he that did bewray,
Unwitting, to the crafty thief himself
The theft; not thinking he had stolen the prey,
In hope to gain a little paltry pelf.
So I, who unawares to cruel Thee,
The robber of my heart, confessed the theft;
A senseless stone like BATTUS am to see:
Only in this unlike that shape bereft,
That where to worthless stone he turnèd was;
I for a Touchstone true of Love do pass.

VII.

DOWN from the neck unto that dainty Breast,
(Which Nature made a Mirror of Delight;
And where a World of Beauties sweet do rest)
Doth hang a costly Chain of Pearl most bright;
And of proportion are so just and round,
That such in India rich cannot be found.
Besides, their orient brightness is alike;
So that mine eyes are dazzled with the same,
And, not much used to see so fair a sight
(A sight which doth the sun in glory stain),
Cannot discern, though them they both do see,
If Breast be Pearl, or Pearl in Bosom be.

VIII.

TO give that life, which had not breath before;
PROMETHEUS, from above, stole heavenly fire:
For which his boldness he was plaguèd sore,
A just reward for such a high aspire.
So whilst I steal from thee, my heaven above,
The heat which doth revive my dying sprite:
For rashness, mine eternal grief I prove.
Yet, though our fault's all one--the plague's not like:
He feels of vulture one, alone, the smart;
But I have thousands, which still gnaw my heart.

IX.

LOVE, being blind, hath wrought me damage sore;
Thou, blind in this my loving, evil wast;
Nor would I see the snare, being blind far more,
Wherein myself, I did entangle fast.
Yet hath this blindness harm done unto none
But unto Beauty's buzzard, me alone.
When blinded Boy did catch my harmless heart;
Thou didst not see the net so intricate
Which bound me (being blind, blind as Thou art!)
To be a thrall in this most wretched state.
So that, alone to work my misery,
LOVE blind is; blind wert Thou; and blinder, I.

X.

IF, LAURA, thou dost turn 'gainst me in hate;
Then me, such busses sweet why dost thou give?
Why check'st thou not the Cheeks which give the mate?
The vital cause whereby I breathe and live?
Perhaps it is, because through too much joy.
As in sweet swound [_swoon_], I might away depart:
If so thou do, and think me so to 'noy;
Kiss hardly! and with kissing, breed my smart!
Content am I to lose this life of mine;
Whilst I do kiss that lovely lip of thine.

XI.

UPON triumphant chariot, 'passing rare,
(In which my Sun doth sit like Majesty:
And makes the day shew unto us more fair;
Whose cheerfulness delights each mortal eye.)
I, rash, like to another PHAETON,
With hare-brain haste, too hasty lept thereon.
But for my boldness dearly did I pay;
And had like plague, as he, for being o'er-brave:
Yet though in equal fortune both did stay
(For life he lost; and death She to me gave);
The punisher of both was not the same,
For he, by JOVE; and I, by LOVE; was slain.

XII.

THE beauty, that in Paradise doth grow,
Lively appears in my sweet goddess's Face;
From whence, as from a crystal river, flow
Favour divine and comeliness of grace.
But in her dainty, yet too cruel, Breast,
More cruelty and hardness doth abound;
Than doth in painful Purgatory rest.
So that, at once, She's fair, and cruel, found:
When in her Face and Breast, ah, grief to tell!
Bright Heaven she shows; and crafty, hides dark Hell.

XIII.

WHILST angry JUNO, from the scowling skies,
Thick swinging showers did downward send amain;
My Lady, mounting up in stately wise,
From heaven more fast did fiery lightning rain.
So that the people, passing, had less harm
By water wet, than by the fire o'erwarm.
The water only wet their outward skin;
A matter small, in which was danger none:
But this her fire did burn their hearts within;
And forced them, as they went, to sigh and groan.
So that their grief was greater, sans all doubt,
To have within fire, than water, without.

XIV.

THE swift Meander, turning, winds so fast,
And with his stream in circle-wise so runs;
That, wanton-like, from whence he springs, at last,
Back to his fountain-head again he comes.
In me, a river huge of tears, from heart
To watery eyes ascend; from whence they flow,
And running down, do from mine eyes depart,
Descending to my heart again below.
So that, through virtue of most mighty Love,
In heart, a new Meander I do prove.

XV.

THOU stranger, who with wand'ring steps dost wend,
Thy gazing eyes turn quickly unto me!
And to my speech, with list'ning ear attend!
In whom four Elements united be.
Mark well; and, as a wonder, tell the same
Of CUPID's force! poor Lovers' TAMBURLAINE!
First this my body's Earth, and earth most cold.
The Fire within my heart, in covert lies.
The Air's my sighs. Mine eyes do Waters hold.
Thus for my Saint, he doth me martyrize.
Earth is my body; (Strange seems not this same?)
The Air, my sighs; eyes, Water; heart, the Flame.

XVI.

IF lovely Lass, for Fairing thine, of me
Gold, in this Fair, thou meanest for to have;
Then give me of thy hairs! which golden be.
Give unto me! since thou of me dost crave.
Nor by this bargain, shalt thou loss sustain;
Or ought hereby shalt hindered be, sweet Wench!
Since I, to courteous thee, do give again,
As thankful, gold; for gold in recompence.
Thy treasure, so shall mine be; mine, as thine:
Nor shall th' exchange be worse than gold most fine.

XVII.

ROCKED in a cradle, like as infants be,
When I was young, a little wanton child,
Two dainty dugs did nourish life in me;
Whilst oft on them, with teat in mouth, I smiled.
Ah, happy I! thrice happy, might I say;
Whilst in that harmless state I then did stay.
But now that I am come to man's estate;
Such dugs as nursed me in delight and joy
Do seek my death, by poisonous sugared bait;
Whose sight, without possession, breeds me 'noy.
So what, in childhood, caused me to live;
Now, in my youth, doth death unto me give.

XVIII.

IF Sea, no other thing doth shew to be
Than most unstable waters moving oft:
With pardon, Lady, you this seem to me;
So most unstable is your changing thought.
I, likewise, hold a River, that o'erwhelms
With wat'ry salt, within these eyes of mine.
Then let us make a mixture 'mongst ourselves
Of this unsteadfastness and wat'ry brine!
Let's fashion, both of us, a novel Sea!
So heaven, the Haven; and Love, the Bay shall be.

XIX.

LADY, the sun was in _Aquarius_
When thou wert born; which is the reason why
The water of my plaints delight thee thus;
Without once viewing me with piteous eye.
But when as I was born, the Sign I guess
In _Cancer_ was; a show of my distress.
This is the cause, within my boiling breast
Doth burn a hot and unextinguished fire:
But contrary these Signs in us do rest;
Nor do they well accord to my desire.
Far better had it been, _Aquarius_'s Sign
Had happed to me; and _Cancer_'s had been thine!

XX.

WHAT time, with brow, the Loveliest 'gins to scowl;
Shewing disdain and fury in her face:
Methinks I see the clouds wax dark and foul;
And gloomy night begins to run his race.
But, then again, when She to show begins
Her smiling cheer, adorned with favour rare:
Straightways the sun, in chariot bright forth springs;
Clear are the skies; the gladsome day, most fair.
Thus, in one face, I see, against my will,
The rising of the sun; and falling, still.

XXI.

RANKLE the wound did in my head apace;
When fairest She, to play the Surgeon came:
And whilst her snow-white hand did me the grace
To lay the plaster on, which healed the same,
A wonder strange! No sooner did she touch
The hurt; but it appeared to be none such.
Yet, woe is me, no sooner by that hand
Was healed in head my outward fest'ring wound;
But that instead of that, as countermand,
One mortal scar at inward heart I found.
Thus, LOVE! thou seest is changèd my estate
She checks with Death, that 'fore gave Life for mate.

_Venice._

XXII.

IF in the midst of kindling burning fire,
That worthy Roman burnt his valiant hand;
I like another MUTIUS in desire,
Have scorched my fist likewise, through LOVE's command,
In freshest moisture; where my Lady sweet,
Her lily hands, for coolness, divèd oft.
But though desire between us was alike;
Yet was the matter diverse which we sought.
He chose to burn his hand, with courage bold,
In flaming fire; and I, in water cold.

XXIII.

THE Gentiles used, in sign of sacrifice,
The blood of men to offer; to appease
The warlike goddess's wrath, in humble wise;
And through the same, her angry mind did please:
But Thou, more wicked Warrior far than she,
In reason may'st more cruel termed be.
On Beauty's altar, to thee dedicate;
Thousands of Lovers, mustering on a row,
Offer their blood and hearts! yet mitigate
Thy hardened mind cannot: which flint doth show.
Then is she cruel less than Thou art now:
Since blood her pleased; and Thee hearts cannot bow.

XXIV.

FOR to behold my Sun, I from the sun
Did seek my face to shadow with my hand,
To shield me from the heat, that 'gan to come
In place, where gazing on her I did stand.
But I no sooner from that sun was free,
But that, in that self instant and that time,
I, of mine own Sun, found myself to be
Burnt with the heat; a most unlucky sign.
So whilst a shade from sun did me defend,
A Sun more hot did hurt me in the end.

XXV.

WHITE was the orient pearl which, on a day,
That hand me gave: which scorns the proud compare
Of purest white; and bears the palm away
As of all pearly Fairs, the orient'st fair.
And whilst She offered unto me the same,
I knew not which the Pearl was, of the twain.
So white the hand was of my peerless Pearl
As it did dazzle with delight mine eyes,
And pearl seemed to me, giving me the pearl;
Which made me, sighing, say in whisp'ring wise,
"Ah, why once may I not so happy be,
This Pearl to have; which th' other gives to me?"

XXVI.

WHEN you appear, appears the Break of Day;
And shews to be most fair and passing bright:
But if you keep yourself unseen away,
The Day shows not; but keepeth out of sight.
Then if again you 'gin yourself to show;
Behold the Day to shew itself afresh
With sky most clear. So both of you do grow
In beauty like: in heat nor are you less.
Thus if your beams you ope, or hidden been:
The Break of Day appears; else ne'er is seen.

XXVII.

JUSTLY of thee, Love partial, I complain
That, at one instant and with one self stroke,
Thou dartèd hast into my heart, with pain,
Cold chilly frost; and fiery flaming smoke.
Ay me! within me, both I secret hold:
And whilst th' one burns me, th' other makes me cold.
Then, Cruel, since thou wilt, two contraries,
Against my soul, within my heart shall rest:
Ah, yet make peace 'twixt them, in loving wise!
Or else, sweet Love, do promise this at least!
Flame to my frost, and water to my fire;
Life to my heart, to comfort my desire.

XXVIII.

DIANA shineth in the heavens clear;
Because from purest Sun she takes her light:
And Fair, she shews that of DIANA here
On Earth, doth borrow beauty passing bright.
The virtue then that is infused in her,
She from DIANA hath; or else from none:
For other thews do all in her concur;
And unto her beholding are alone.
O wonder strange of Nature to reveal!
She, DIAN' gives; yet doth from DIAN' steal.

_Sienna._

XXIX.

AS burnished gold, such are my Sovereign's Hairs;
A brace of stars divine, her blackish Eyes;
Like to the fairest black the raven bears;
Or fairer, if you fairer can devise.
So likewise fair's the beauty of her Breasts;
Where Pleasure lurks, where joy still dallying rests.
This VENUS' Bower, you rightly may compare
To whitest snow that e'er from heaven fell;
Or to the mines of alabaster fair.
Woe's me! 'Tis sweet to sleep in CUPID's cell!
Whilst he, the heart makes surfeit with delight;
Through golden Hair, black Eyes, and Breast most white.

XXX.

UNTO thy favour (which when Nature formed,
She went beyond herself with cunning hand),
I may compare what is, in world, adorned
With beauty most; and with most grace doth stand.
But every mortal whiteness, ne'er so white,
The ivory white of thy white hand exceeds:
So that my soul, which doth fair whiteness like,
Rests on fair whiteness, and on whiteness feeds.
For this is thought, and hoped of from thee:
White as thy hands, so white thy faith shall be.

XXXI.

LADY, thou seemest like FORTUNE unto me;
When I most wistly mark, how thou dost go
With golden tresses loose (a joy to see!);
Which gentle wind about thy ears doth blow.
And as thou her resemblest in this sort;
So dost thou in attire, and all thy port.
Only thou wantest for thy swift right hand
The rolling Wheel: and shadowing Veil to hide
Those eyes; which, like Controllers, do command.
But if thou long'st of these to be supplied,
Take me, thy prisoner, for to play this part!
For my desire's the Wheel, the Veil's my heart.

XXXII.

THOU, merry, laugh'st, and pleasantly dost smile:
I woeful weep, and mestful sorrow still;
Lest this thy mirth increasing, me beguile,
And weave a web for me of greater ill.
Too well perceive I this thy deep disdain,
By this thy feignèd looks and cloakèd glee.
Thou of disaster mine art glad and fain;
And fain my death, as basilisk, would'st see;
Since that of war and 'bate this laughter is,
And not of gentle peace and calmy bliss.

XXXIII.

SINCE thou hast changed thy gown and thine attire;
Ah, change thy thoughts! not always cruel be!
And with new clothes, put on a new desire!
That new, in every point, I may thee see:
And if thou heretofore unkind hast been;
Be courteous now, and gentle be thou seen!
Thy glory great, thy praise more shalt thou find;
If, of unconstant, constant thou become!
And of a foe, a faithful friend and kind!
Then change henceforth thy thoughts! else I, undone.
Give me that colour which so likes mine eyen!
If death, then black: if life, then carnatine [_rosy red_].

XXXIV.

CHANGED is my nature in me; where before
I like was to a chilly freezing ice;
I now a flame am, burning inward sore:
And such a flame that burneth in such wise
That if LOVE and my Mistress take no care
For this my hurt, my soul must quickly die.
Yet one doth see (for both not blinded are!)
The fire so hot doth burn, wherein I fry,
That fierce PERILLUS's boiling Bull of brass
May unto this for icy substance pass.

XXXV.

FAR better had it been, I had been dead,
And laid full low in latest home, my grave;
Than with that drink myself for to have fed,
Which LAURA mine in crystal glass me gave.
The liquor pleased me, I must needs confess:
Yet to my heart, 'twas poison ne'ertheless.
So that I had contrary quite effect
To my desire; which I so much did wish.
Love was in fault, who Reason doth reject.
And see my cruel luck, what happed in this!
The wine was sweet; yet did his nature turn:
It cooled my mouth, but heart within did burn.

XXXVI.

SWEET sang thy bird, in ebon cage shut fast,
And did delight thy dainty ears so much
As thou vouchsafedst to give him meat at last;
And gently did his feathers stroke and touch.
So, Lady, I likewise, in th' ebony
Of thy bright eyes am prisoner, and do sing
Thy Beauty's praise; and yet not fed am I
By thee: yet live through thee; a wondrous thing!
Love to my heart thy beauty doth supply
For food; which else, through famine starved, would die.

XXXVII.

IF white's the Moon, thou LAURA seem'st as white;
And white's the gown which you on body wear.
And if her whitely horns, in calmy night,
She, smoothly gliding, shows to us most clear:
You, in the daytime, more and brighter far
Your beauty show; like bright AURORA's star.
Like brightness both of you abroad do cast;
Though not effect alike _per accidens_:
You shine, she shines, your powers eternal last;
But yet between you is great difference.
Her brightness freezeth, causing deadly cold:
Yours doth inflame, and lovely fire doth hold.

XXXVIII.

EVEN as the lamp goeth out, that oil doth want,
Or as the sun doth fall in th' Occident;
So did my heart within me 'gin to pant;
My vital spirits away by little went:
When, taking on me pity, graciously
My Mistress's hem of garment, trailing down,
Touched me; and me revivèd suddenly.
Then if such virtue be within her gown;
Imagine what doth stay her corpse within!
Which who seeth, through sweetness needs must sin.

XXXIX.

SEATED on marble was my Lady blithe,
Holding in hand a crystal looking-glass;
Marking of Lovers thousands; who alive,
Thanks only to her beauty rare, did pass.
To pry in glasses likes her: but afterward
She takes the nature of the stone most hard.
For whilst she cheerfully doth fix her eyes,
Gazing upon the brightness of the one;
Her heart, by th' other's made, in strangy wise,
Hard as a rock and senseless as a stone:
So that if Love this breaketh not in twain;
It will a flint become, to others' pain.

XL.

NO more a man, as once I was, am I:
Since this new CIRCE, moved by fierce disdain,
Hath changed me to a Fountain never dry;
Wherein myself, with bitter tears I bain [? _bathe_].
Then am I one who always eyes do bear;
And breast of water flowing only full.
Take heed, you Lovers all, of her! and fear
The sugared baits of this deceitful Trull!
Lest by this CIRCE new, you be deceived,
As I have been; and be of shape bereaved.

_The Conclusion of the First Part._

THE Macedonian Monarch once did deign,
In cheerful sort, in kind and loving wise,
To feast in village with a homely Swain;
Who entertained him, as in country guise,
With curds and creams, and such like knacks he had.
Whereof the courteous Prince accepted glad.

So, Lady, boldly I presumèd have
To invite you to a sorry banquet base;
Nor to disdain the same, of you I crave!
Though cates too coarse for you; too poor, the place.
I cannot, as I would, give curds and cream;
But milk and whey: my fortune is so mean.

Yet (if you shall accept it graciously;
And with your favour sweet, this board adorn)
The virtue which is in you, presently,
The whey, to curds; the milk, to cream shall turn.
But if your look (you angry) turn away;
The milk shall still be milk; the whey, still whey.

Then as the sun in glorious wise doth shine
As well on valley low as mountain high;
Vouchsafe one cheerful glimpse of favour thine
On poor me, from out that heavenly eye!
Unworthy I, such grace! I do confess:
Yet worthy thou to do so, ne'ertheless.

R. T.

LAURA.

THE SECOND PART.

I.

IF I somewhile look up into the Skies,
I see, fair Lady, that same cheerful light;
Which, like to you, doth shine in glorious wise:
And if on th' Earth, I chance to cast my sight;
The moveless centre firm to me doth show
The hardness which within your heart doth grow.
If Seas I view, the flowing waves most plain
Your fickle faith do represent to me.
So as I still behold you, to my pain;
When as the Skies, or th' Earth, or Seas I see:
For in your seemly self doth plain appear
Like faith; like hardness; and like brightness clear.

II.

MARVEL I do not, though thou dost not see
My griefs and martyrs; which I still sustain.
For thou, the Mole of Love dost seem to me;
But if a Mole, th' art only to my pain.
How comes it then that, seeing thou art blind,
Thou me consum'st, as if thou had'st thy sight?
Why, as thy nature by instinct doth bind,
Stayest not below? Pack hence, and leave this light!
Either those eyes still shut, not me to grieve;
Or under ground, in darkness, always live!

III.

IF whilom, in times past, that Spartan Lass
("The Flower of Greece," Dan PARIS's costly joy)
Through her fair feature, the only causer was,
So many Knights were slain at Siege of Troy:
Thou, LAURA, art unlike unto her far!
In this our Age, a much more blessed star.
For she brought Wars, Strife, Death, and Cruelty;
Where thou, alone, bring'st Peace and Pleasure still.
Ah, happy thrice, that ligs in love with thee!
And if, by chance, un'wares, thou sometimes kill:
Thou, with thy smile, the wound canst heal again;
And give him life, whom thou before hadst slain

_Pisa_.

IV.