viii
Introduction
...married Sir James Granado's only daughter and heiress, i.e., father and son married respectively mother and daughter. This took place at Royston on 27th November 1564. The wife of Edward Chester survived her husband and was again married, viz., to Alexander Dyer, Esq. He was admitted to Gray's Inn in 1562, and was subsequently in service as a Colonel in the Low Countries. Besides two daughters' (a) Mary, who married an Edward Thornburgh, or Thornborough of Shaddesden, co. Southampton, Esq. (b) Another, who married an Edward Roberts - Edward Chester left a son ROBERT, who was declared heir to his father by Inquisition post mortem, dated 15th January 1578-9, being then aged twelve years, six months and sixteen days, which fixes his birth about the last of June 1566. This Robert Chester, I indentify with the author of Love's Martyr. In 1596 HENRY HOLLAND dedicated his Christian Exercise of Fasting to him, in grave and grateful and admiring words [n1 See Postscript A to this Introduction for this golden little Epistle-dedicatory. ]. He was a J.P. for Herts and Sheriff of Herts in 1599. From NICHOLS' Progresses of King James I, I glean the following slight notice of him :--“His Majestie being past Godmanchester, held on his waye towards Royston; and drawing neere the Towne, the Shiriffe of Huntingtonshire [Sir John Bedell] humbly tooke his leave; and there he was received by that worthy Knight Sir Edward Denny, High Shiriffe of Hartfordshire... and... in brave manner he conducted his Majestie to one Mafter Chester's house, where his Majestie lay that night on his owne Kingly charge." [n2 Vol. i, pp. 104-5.]. On this Nichols annotates:-- “Though ‘Master Chester' was then owner of the Priory at Royston, and attended on the King at his entrance into the Town, it was more probably at his mansion of Cockenhatch (in the parish of Barkway, near Royston), that he had the honour of entertaining his Royal Master. A view of this house may be seen in Chauncy, p. 102." [n3 Ibid, p. 105.]. The words that the King “lay" at “Master Chester's house" on “his
ix
owne Kingly charge" does not seem to indicate lavish hospitality on the part of the host. But he must have given satisfaction to the King; for he was knighted along will a shoal of others, at Whitehall, on 23rd July 1603 [n1 Vol. i, p. 218. Doubtless when the King afterwards built himself a residence at Royston there would be frequent intercourse.]. The exact date of his marriage does not appear; but his wife was Anne, daughter of Henry Capell, Esq., of Essex, by his wife, the Lady Catherine Manners, daughter of Thomas, first Earl of Rutland. She survived him not quite two years, residing at Hitchen, Herts [n2 Her Will is dated 12th and was proved the 26th of March 1642.]. They had issue at least six sons and six daughters; and their issue in turn were for a time equally numerous, but the late Mr. Harry Chester (who died in 1868) believed himself the last representative of the race [n3 The chief line of descent of these Chesters was by this Edward, son of our Sir Robert, who was also knighted. The sons entered the various professions. I notice two of them onward. Harry Chester, above mentioned, was son of another Sir Robert Chester, well-remembered as Master of the Ceremonies during the reigns from George III to Victoria.]. He died on 3rd May 1640. On his death he was possessed of the manor and rectory of Royston, the manors of Nuthamsted, Cockenhatch, Hedley, &c., &c. His Will, dated 3rd May 1638, with codicils, 16th March and 7th April 1640, was proved in. the Prerogative Court of Canterbury on 3rd February 1640-1, by his eldest son and heir, Edward Chester, Esq., "Whose age at his father's death was, according to the Inquisition, forty years and upwards [n4 See Postscript B for Abstract.].
On these facts I would note--(a) In 1601, when Love's Martyr was published, he was in his thirty-fifth year; but the phrase in his Epistle-dedicatory to Salisbury, 'my long expected labour,' may carry its composition back some few years at least. (b) Specifically, while long portions were probably written much earlier, the' Turtle-dove' being Essex and being in Ireland, ascertains date of composition of all referring to 'Paphos Ile' 1598-9—the period of Essex's absence. (c) In 1611 he was in his forty-fifth year, ' and no longer plain' Robert Chester,' but Sir Robert Chester
x
Knight, and husb:ll1.d of an Earl's daughter linked to the Sidneys. Is the explanation of the withdrawal of his name from the new title-page of 1611 that his early literary fervours had chilled with his social dignities? (d) At his death he was in his seventy-fourth year. One longs to know more of a man who in his prime personally acquainted with Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Chapman, Marston and other of the 'mighties,' survived them all. The "new compositions" for his own book, drawn from them, especially the fact that it stands alone in having a 'contribution from Shakespeare, would make any man remarkable.
(b) WHO WAS SIR JOHN SALISBURIE? Love's Martyr is dedicated to him as "To the Honourable, and (of me before all other) honored Knight" and "one of the Esquires of the bodie to the Queenes most excellent Maiestie" (p. 3), and in the title-page of the "diverse Poeticall Effaies" he is designated" the true-noble Knight" (p. 177). Even these slight descriptions guide us to the Salisburys or Salisburies of Lleweni, Denbighshire—long extinct. Dr. Thomas Nicholas, in his Annals and Antiquities of the Counties and County Families of Wales, commences his account of the Salusburys thus :--"The long standing and distinguished alliances of the Salusburys of Lleweni, in the Vale of Clwyd, and the high character, borne by several of the line, render them a 'notable house, and awaken regret at their disappearance. The name is spelt differently in early writings—Salusbury, Salesbury, Salsbury; Dwnn almost always adopting the phonetic method, spells this name "Salsberie." They were of Lleweni and Machymbyd. At what time they first came to Denbighshire, or how the surname originated, is not known, but it is believed that their origin was Welsh. John Salusbury, the third of. the name known to us, was the founder of the Priory of White Friars at Denbigh, and died A.D, 1289. He must therefore have witnessed the great struggle of Llewelyn and Edward, which was very hot in those parts. His grandson, William Salusbury, was M.P.
xi
for Leominster 1332, long before members were appointed for Wales. William's grandson, Sir Harry Salusbury (died circa, 1399), was a Knight of the Sepulchre, and his brother John was Master of the House for Edward III, and suffered death in 1388." (p. 392.)
He thus continues: "Sir Harry's grandson, Sir Thomas Salusbury, Knt, the first mentioned in the pedigrees as of Lleweni, was a man of. great note as citizen and soldier. His consort was Jonet, daughter and heir of William Fychan of Caernavon. He took a distinguished part in the battle of Blackheath (1497) against Perkin Warbeck's, insurrection, for which he was rewarded by Henry VII. with the order of knighthood. He died 1505, and was buried at the White Friars, Denbigh (Whitchurch). Sir Roger, his son, married a Puleston of Emral, and was followed by Sir John of Lleweni, who married a Myddleton of Chester, of the Gwaenynog line. He was constable of Denbigh Castle in 1530, and served in several parliaments for the county of Denbigh - died 1578. His son, John Salusbury, Esq., of Lleweni, was the member of this house who married the celebrated Catherine Tudor of Berain; and his son by Catherine, Thomas Salusbury, Esq., married Margaret, daughter of Morys Wynn, Esq., of Gwyder, but had no male issue; his second son, John, married Ursula, daughter of Henry Stanley, Earl of Derby, and was succeeded by his son, Sir Henry Salusbury, Bart, who married Hester, daughter of Sir Thomas Myddelton, Knt, of Chide Castle. His line terminated with his grandson Sir John, whose daughter and sole heir married Sir Robert Cotton, Bart, of Combermere, Cheshire, from whom the Combermen family are derived. Cotton-Hall, named after the Cottons, was the birth-place of the great General Lord Combermere. The Lleweni estate was sold by Sir Robert Cotton to the Hon. Thomas Fitzmaurice" (p. 392).
Turning back on these names, our Sir John Salisburie was John, second son of John Salusbury—who died in his father Sir John Salusbury's life-time—by (as above)
xii
Catherine Tudor of Berain [n1 Dr. Nicholas, as before, gives an interesting account of this famous “Catherine"; and I deem it well to avail myself of it, as follows: - "Catherine of Berain," the most noted of her race in this country, was of the clan or tribe of Marchwerthian, and was left sole heiress of Berain. She married four husbands, each of a high and honourable house, and had such a numerous offspring that the name was given her of Mam Cymru, “the mother of Wales." Her first husband was John Salisbury, Esq., of Llyweni, and her estate of Berain was inherited by her children gotten by him. The second was Sir Richard Clough of Denbigh, Knt. of the Sepulchre, who made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land; the third, Morys Wynn, Esq., of Gwyder; and the fourth, Edward Thelwall of Plas-y.Ward. Catherine of Berain's father was Tudyr ap Robert ap Ievan ap Turlyr ap Gruffydd Lloyd ap Heilyn Frych, which Heilyn Frych was ninth in descent from Marchwerthian, Lord of Isaled, founder of the eleventh noble tribe." ... “The portrait of Catherine, given in Yorke's Royal Tribes, marks a person of firmness and intelligence, and these qualities, added to her estate and numerous alliances and offspring, supplied her with a charm which the bardic heralds of the time knew not how to resist; they spared no pains, accordingly, to provide her with a lineage whose antiquity would comport with their idea of her merits. Tudyr was carried back to Urien Rheged, and he of course to Coel Godebog, who, although a reputed contemporary with Herod the Great, was vouched by the bards to have a full blown heraldic coat - . Arg., an eagle displayed with two heads, sable.' Coel was in the twelfth—degree from Beli Mawr, King of Britain 72 B. c., who bore, they said, . Az., three crowns Or in pale'; and he was about the fifteenth from Brutus, who, as the bards believed, came to Britain about B. C. 1136, bearing along with his father Sylvius, an escutcheon charged thus: - . Quarterly: I, Or, a lion rampant passant Gu.; 2, Az., three crowns Or in bend' 1" (p. 393.)]. He was born “about 1567" –a portrait of him having been at Lleweny, dated 1591, aet.24 [n2 Pennant's Tour in Wales, vol. ii, p. 145.]. He became heir of his brother Thomas, who was executed, in 1586, for conspiring to deliver Mary, Queen of Scots, from imprisonment. His wife was (as above) Ursula,' a 'natural' daughter of Henry, fourth Earl of Derby. The record of administration of her estate, as of the town of Denbigh, is dated 9th May 1636. They had four sons and three daughters. Henry, the eldest and only surviving son, was created a baronet, as of Lleweni, 10th November 1619, and died 2nd August 1632. His only surviving son was Sir Thomas Salusbury, author of “Joseph," a poem (1636)—who died in 1643 [n3The Bibliographers overlook that Sir John Salisbury has a longish poem prefixed to Eromena, 1632, folio.].
xiii
Our Sir John was surnamed “the strong"; and that explains Hugh Gryffith's playing on 'might'—of which anon. He was M.P. for co. Denbigh 43 Elizabeth (1600-1). All the authorities say he died in 1613; but no Will nor administration of his estate has been found. A shadow of obscurity thus lies on the memory of Chester's " true-noble Knight" –unlifted even from his (exact) death-date. Spelling of names was so arbitrary and variant then, that I should have attached no difficulty to the family spelling of 'Salusbury’, as against 'Salisburie' of Love's Martyr. As I write this I am called upon to annotate a Sir Stephen Poll—according to one of Nicholas Breton's Epistles-dedicatory—while he really was Sir Stephen Fowle, and so is it endlessly. But I am enabled absolutely to identify Sir John Salusbury of Lleweni with Chester's Salisburie. For this is placed beyond dispute by another Epistle-dedicatory addressed to him as—be it noted—(a) of 'Llewen,' (b) as 'Esquier for the Bodie to the Queene's most excellent Maiestie,' as in Chester; and which, in the sorrowful absence of other information, is of peculiar interest. It is found in the following little volume of Verse, of which only a single exemplar (preserved at Isham) is known:
" SINETES
Paffions vppon his fortunes,
offered for an Incenfe at the
fhrine of the Ladies which gui
ded his diftempered
thoughtes.
The Patrons patheticall Po-
fies, Sonets, Maddrigals, and
Roundelayes. Together with
Sinetes Dompe.
Plena verecundi culpa pucloris erat.
By ROBERT PARRY
Gent.
At LONDON
Printed by T. P. for WilIiam
Holme, and are to be fauld on
Ludgate hill at the figne of
the holy Lambe.
1597" (sm. 12mo)
xiv
The Epistle-dedicatory shews (I) That being plain 'John Salisburie' in 1597 he must have been knighted between 1597 and 1601, (2) That he was of the Queen's household; and so could well introduce his friend Chester into court. It thus runs:
“To the right worfhipfull John
Salisburie, of Llewen, Esquier,
for the Bodie to the Queenes
moft excellent Maiestie.
THe Hope of thefe, and glaffe of future time,
O Heros which eu'n enuie itfelfe admir's,
Vouchfafe to guarde, & patronize my rimes,
My humble rime, which nothing elfe desir's;
But to make knowne the greatnes of thy minde
To Honors throne that euer hath been inclyn'd.
Geue leaue a while vnto my breathing Muse,
To pause vpon the accent of her fmarte,
From the refpite of this fhort-taken truce.
For to recorde the actions of my Harte:
Which vowed hath, to manifeft thy worth,
That noble fruites to future age bringes foorth.
Eu'n thou alone, which ftrengthn'ft my repofe,
And doeft geue life vnto my dead defire,
Which malice daunt'fte, that did thy fame oppofe,
Now, with reuiuing hope, my quill infpire:
So he may write, and I may glorie finge,
That time, in time, may plucke out enui's fting:.
Renowned Patron, my wayling verfe,
To whofe protect I flye for friendly ayde,
Vouchfafe to heare, while I my woes rehearfe:
Then my poore mufe, will neuer be difmaide,
To countenance the babling Eccho's frowne,
That future age may ring of thy renowne.
I that ere-while with Pan his hindes did play,
And tun'd the note, that beft did pleafe my minde,
Content to fing a fheapheard's Round-delay;
Now by thy might, my Mufe the way did finde,
With Madrigals, to ftore my homely ftile,
Graced with th' applaufe, of thy well graced fmile.
Eu'n thou I fay, whofe trauaile hope doth yeilde,
That honours worth, may reape a due rewarde,
Which flyes with natiue plume vnto the fielde ;
Whofe paines deferues thy cuntreys juft regarde :
xv
Time cannot dafhe, nor enuie blemifh thofe,
Whom on fam's ftrength haue built their chiefe repofe.
Tis only that, whIch thou mayft clayme thine owne,
Deuouring time, cannot obfcure the fame,
In future age by this thou mayft be knowne,
When as pofterities renue thy fame:
Then thou being dead, fhalt lyfe a newe poffeffe,
When workes nor wordes, thy worthynes expreffe :
Then fhall my rime a fort of ftrength remaine,
To fhield the florifh of thy high renowne,
That ruin's force may neu'r graces ftaine,
Which with fame's found fhall through the world bee blowne:
Yf that the ocean which includ's our ftile,
Would paffage graunt out of this noble Ifle.
For fteling tyme of mufes lowe remaine,
Will from the fountaine of her chiefe conceyte,
Still out the fame, through Lymbecke of my brain,
That glorie takes the honour to repeate :
Whofe fubiect: though of royall accents barde,
Yet to the fame, vouchfafe thy due rewarde :
So fhall my felfe, and Pen, bequeath their toyle,
To fing, and write prayes, which it felfe fhall prayfe,
Which time with cutting Sithe, fhall neuer fpoyle,
That often worthy Heros fame delayes :
And I encouraged by thy applaufe,
Shall teach my mufe on higher things to paufe." (pp. 2-4.)
ROBERT PARRY, Gent, is but a sorry poet; for, except here and there a touch of passion and a well-turned compliment, 'Sinetes' is sere and scentless. But it is clear that Salisburie's patronage was highly valued. Besides, an ‘H. P.’ who writes "In prayfe of the Booke" thus speaks of him:
. . . . . . "thy worthie patron is thy fort Thou needes not fhunne t'approch into ech place,
Thy flowring bloome of wit fhall thee report."
Still further helpful in identification is another poem in the tiny volume, signed “Hugh Gryffyth, Gent," which is headed "Poffe & nolle nobile." That by this our Salisburie was intended is confirmed by our Chester's placing the same motto at the head of his Epistle-dedicatory (p. 3), in addition to his name being introduced in the poem itself. I gladly make room for the lines:
xvi
“A worthie man deferues a wort1lie motte,
As badge thereby his nature to declare,
Wherefore the fates of purpofe did alot,
To this braue Squire, this fimbole fweete and rare:
Of might to fpoyle, but yet of mercie fpare,
A fimbole fure to Salifberie due by right.
Who ftill doth ioyne his mercy with his might.
Though lyon like his Poffe might take place,
Yet like a Lambe he Nolle vfeth aye,
Right like himfelfe (the flower of Salifberies race)
Who neuer as yet a poore man would difmay :
But princockes finde be vf'd to daunt alway:
And fo doth ftill: whereby is knowen full well
His noble minde and manhood to excell.
All crauen curres that corns of caftrell kinde,
Are knowne full well whe[n] they their might would araine,
The poore t'oppreffe that would there fauour finde ?
Or yeilde himfelfe their freindfhip to attayne:
Then feruile fottes triumphes in might a mayne,
But fuch as corns from noble lyons race,
(Like this braue fquire) who yeeldes receaues to grace.
Haud ficta loquor.
I suppose “Poffe et nolle, nobile"—evidently his motto or impressa—gathers into itself Sir John Salisburie's name of "the strong" as over-against his gentleness = To have the power [strength] to do and yet to be unwilling to do [harm] is noble. It is just Isabella's pleading in Measure for Measure (act ii, sc. 2, 11. 107-9):
--" O, it is excellent
To haue a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To ufe it like a giant"
Nor is this all' Sinetes' gives us. For before the ‘Posies' –within an arched temple gate-way—is this repetition of the principal title-page:
"The
Patrone his pa-
thetical Pofies,
Sonets, Maddri-
galls, & Roun-
delayes.
Together
with SINETES
Dompe.
Plena verecu[m]
di culpa pu-
doris erat"
xvii
This is somewhat ambiguous; for one is left in doubt whether the 'pathetical Posies, Sonets, Maddrigalls, and Roundelayes' are Salisburie's, as his productions, or by gift of Parry. The following are the contents of the division: 1. The patrones conceyte; 2. The patrones affection; 3. The patrones phantafie; 4. The patrones pauze an ode; 5. The dittie to Sospiros (2); 6. The patrones Dilemma (2); 7. The Palmers Dittie vppon his Almes; 8. The Patrones Adieu; 9. Fides in Fortunam (2); 10. My forrow is ioy; 11. An Almon for a Parrat; 12. The authors mufe vpon his Conceyte; 13. Fides ad fortunam; Sonnettos 1-31. To Paris darling—Buen matina—Maddrigall—Roundelay—Sinettes—Dumpe—Poffe & nolle nobile—The Lamentation of a Malecontent, &c. I select from these verses, three, to give a taste of the quality of this other eulogist of our Chester's Salisburie, and because it is just barely possible (though I confess improbable) that Sir John Salisburie is their author. There are gleams in these selections from 'the Patrone's' division, not in the body of the poems [n These hitherto utterly unknown and unused 'poems' form part of that lucky find of my friend Mr. C. Edmonds at Isham. But he had no idea whatever of their bearing on Love's Martyr. I am indebted to Sir C. Isham of Lamport Hall for a leisurely loan of this, as of other of his book-treasures. Note that I have silently corrected two or three slight misprints and punctuations, as 'Whose' for' Who,' &c. With reference to the possible Salisburie authorship of the most of the second division of the small volume, perhaps ll. 37-40 in the Epistle-dedicatory, were meant to refer to his Verses—thus:
"Tis only that, which thou mayfi clayme thine owne,
Deuouring time, cannot obfcure the fame,
In future age by this thou mayft be knowne,
When as pofterities renue thy fame, &c."
Then the phrase in the title, 'The Patrone his pathetical Pofies,' &c., and especially its interposition between' Sinete's Dompe,' makes one hesitate in rejecting the Salisburie authorship. It does not add to the belief that these Verses are by the Patron that the lady addressed seems to be one 'of honour' or 'high rank'; for Parry himself was a ' Gentleman' as he tells us in his title-page.].
I. The Patrone's Pauze an Ode.
Dimpl's florilh, beauties grace,
Fortune fmileth in thy face,
Eye bewrayeth honours flower,
xviii
Loue is norif'd in thy bower,
In thy bended brow doth lye,
Zeale impreft with chaftitie.
Loue's dar1ing decre.
O pale lippes of coral hue,
Rarer die then cheries newe,
Arkes where reafon cannot trie,
Beauties riches which doth lye,
Entomb'd in that fayreft frame,
Touch of breath perfumes the fame.
O rubie cleere.
Ripe Adon fled Venvs bower,
Ayming at thy fweeteft flower,
Her ardent loue forft the fame,
Wonted agents of his flame:
Orbe to whofe enflamed fier,
Loue incenf'd him to afpire.
Hope of our time.
Oriad's of the hills drawe neere,
Nayad's come before your peere :
Flower of nature fhining fhoes,
Riper then the falling rofe,
Entermingled with white flower,
Stayn'd with vermilion's power.
Neftl'ld in our clime.
The filuer fwann fing in Poe,
Silent notes of new-fpronge woe,
Tuned notes of cares I fing,
Organ of the mufes fpringe,
Nature's pride inforceth me,
Eu'n to rue my deftinie.
Starre fhew thy might.
Helen's beautie is defac'd,
Io's graces are difgrac'd,
Reaching not the twentith part,
Of thy gloafes true defart,
But no maruaile thou alone,
Eu'n art Venus paragone.
Arm'd with delight
Iris coulors are to[o] bare,
She would make Apelles gaze,
Refting by the filuer ftreame,
Toiling nature feame by feame,
Pointing at the chriftall skie,
Arguing her maieftie.
xix
II. Loues rampire ftronge.
Hayre of Amber, frefh of hue,
Wau'd with goulden wyers newe,
Riches of the fineft mould,
Rareft glorie to behould,
Ympe with natures vertue graft,
Engines newe for dolors fraught, :
Eu'n there as fpronge.
A Iem fram'd with Diamounds,
In whofe voice true concord founds,
Ioy to all that ken thy smile,
In thee doth vertue fame beguile,
In whofe beautie burneth fier,
Which difgraceth Queene defier:
Saunce all compare.
Loue it felfe being brought to gaze,
Learnes to treade the louers maze:
Lying vncouer'd in thy looke,
Left for to unclafpe the Booke :
Where enroul'd thy fame remaines,
That Iuno's blufh of glory fhines :
Blot out my care.
Spheare containing all in all,.
Only fram'd to make men thrall:
Onix deck'd with honor's worth,
On whofe beautie bringeth foarth ;
Smiles ou'r-clouded with difdaine,
Which loyall hearts doth paine:
Voyde of difgrace.
Avrora's blufh that decks thy smile,
Wayting lovers to beguile:
Where curious thoughts built the neft.
Which neu'r yeilds to louer's reft :
Wafting ftill the yeilding eye,
Whilft he doth the beautie fpie.
Read in her face.
Lampe enrich'd with honours flower,
Bloffome gracing Venus bower:
Bearing plumes of feathers white,
Wherein Turtles doe delighte,
Senfe, would feeme to weake to finde,
Reafon's depth in modeft minde :
Yeilding defire.
Lode-ftarre of my happie choyfe,
In thee alone I doe reioyce :
xx
O happie man whofe hap is fuch,
To be made happie by thy tutch :
Thy worth and worthynes could moue,
The ftouteft to incline to loue.
Enflam'd with fier.
III. Pofie xi.
An Almon for a Parrat
Difdainfull dames that mountaines moue in thought,
And thinke they may Iouves thunder-bolt controule,
Who paft compare ech one doe fet at naught,
With fqueamifh fcorn's that nowe in rethorick roule :
Yer fcorne that will be fcorn'd of proude difdaine,
I fcorne to beare the fcornes of fineft braine.
Geftures, nor lookes of fimpring coy conceyts,
Shall make me moue for ftately ladies' mocks:
Then SIRENS ceafe to trap with your deceyts,
Leaft that your barkes meete vnexpected rocks:
For calmeft ebbe may yeild the rougheft tide,
And change of time, may change in time your pride.
Leaue to conuerfe if needes you muft inuay,
Let meaner fort feede on their meane entent,
And foare on ftill, the larke it fled awaye,
Some one in time will pay what you have lent,
Poore hungrie gnates faile not on wormes to feede,
When gofhawkes miffe on hoped pray to fpeede. (pp. 18-20.)
I add just one other snatch :
Buen matina.
Sweete at this mourne I chaunced
To peepe into the chamber; loe I glaunced :
And fawe white fheetes, thy whyter skinne difclofing :
And fofte-fweete cheeke on pyl1owe fofte repofing;
Then fayde were I that pillowe,
Deere for thy love I would not weare the willowe.
As with SIR ROBERT CHESTER himself, it is to be lamented that no personal details have come down to us concerning SIR JOHN SALISBURIE. It demands infinitely more than rank and transient influence to keep a name quick across the centuries. How pathetically soon the small dust of oblivion settles down—not to be blown off—on once noisy and noised lives! So is it—spite of Chester and Parry and Gryffyth—with our ‘true-noble-knight.'
xxi
One little after-link between a Salisbury and a Chester I like to regard as going toward the identification of our Chester along with Sir John Salisbury of Lleweni. It is this—Our Sir Robert Chester, having two sons in the church, viz., Dr. Granado Chester, Rector of Broadwater, co. Sussex, and Dr. Robert Chester, Rector of Stevenage; it is found that the former was in the gift of Sir Robert Salusbury of Llanwhern, Monmouthshire, Baronet, of the same house. One is willing to think that the ancient family friendship between the two houses led to this 'presentation' to a son of Sir John Salisburie's friend by a Salisbury. It is likewise to be recalled that the Chesters of Derbyshire—as we have seen—would be brought into relation with the Salisburys by their common opposition in the field to Perkin Warbeck, and in support of Henry VII.
(c) WHO WERE MEANT BY THE 'PHOENIX' AND THE 'TURTLE-DOVE' OF THESE POEMS? Turning to the original title-page, we find that immediately succeeding the large-type words:
"LOVES MARTYR:
OR,
ROSALINS COMPLAINT."
are these other:
"Allegorically fhadowing the truth of Loue,
in the conftant Fate of the Phoenix
and Turtle."
Then below is this further or supplementary explanation:
"To these are added some new compositions, of seuerall moderlte Writers
whose names are subscribed to their seuerall workes, vpon the
first fubiect: viz. the Phoenix and
Turtle."
xxii
Looking next at "The Authors request to the Phoenix"—which, as it is annexed to the Epistle-dedicatory to Sir John Salisburie, 'one of the Esquires of the bodie to the Queenes most excellent majestie,' so it is in itself a second dedication, though not so designated—I ask the student-reader to weigh the compliments in these Lines, and especially these:
“Phoenix of beautie, beauteous Bird of any"
"That feedft all earthly fences with thy fauor”
"------------ "thy perfections paffing beautie "
I ask also that it be noted how the 'allegory' of the birds—as Phoenix and Turtle-dove—is incidentally, though not I think accidentally, dropped even thus early, and two things indicated (a) That the Author's poems in so far as she, the 'Phoenix,' was concerned, sang the "home-writ praises" of her ‘love' :
“Accept my home-writ praifes of thy loue "
(b) That he was not pleading for himself but another; viz., her ‘loue' or him whom she loved. He seeks that she will accept these “home-writ praises." and her 'kind acceptance' of him (the 'loue' of the prior line)
------------ “kind acceptance of thy Turtle-doue "
Thus far the 'home-writ praises' are comparatively in “a lowly flight" (p.6); but in the Poems-proper all is exaggerate and hyperbolical. As pointed out in the Notes and Illustrations frequenter, it very soon appears that the ‘Phoenix' is a person and a woman, and the' Turtle-doue' a person and a male. and that while, as the title-page puts it, the poet is "Allegorically shadowing the truth of Love," it is a genuine story of human love and martyrdom (Love's Martyr). It further very evidently appears—as also shewn in the Notes and Illustrations (p. 17, st. 2) that the 'Phoenix' was not woman merely, but a queen, and queen of 'Brytaine' (st. 3,1. 4). In short, no one at all acquainted with what was the mode of speaking of Queen Elizabeth to the very last, will hesitate
xxiii
in recognizing her as the 'Rosalin' and 'Phoenix' of Robert Chester, and the “moderne writers," of this book. Let the reader keep eye and ear and memory alert, and he will (meo indicio) find throughout, that in Love's Martyr and the related poems, he is listening to the every-day language of the Panegyrists of the 'great Queen.' That is to say, apart from theories, he will see that all the epithets, and much of the description pointed, and could point alone, to Elizabeth. Her 'beauty' and her kind of beauty, "beauty that excelled all beauty on earth"—her 'princely eyes,' her 'majestical'
appearance, her palms kissed like a saint's, her chastity over and over celebrated—her 'deep counsels,' her fondness for and skill in music, her gift of poetry, her eloquence, the “sweet accents of her tongue," her being a 'Phoenix,' 'Earth's beauteous Phoenix' (p. 9), and a Phoenix a prey to the want of a successor—all inevitably make us think of Elizabeth, and none other possible. Let anyone
who may hesitate, take NICHOLS' 'Progresses of Elizabeth’ [n 2 vols., 4to. See Postscript to this Introduction, C, for quotations from Nichols. Even Sidney—whose fortune was made—did not publish ‘Astrophel and Stella.' Besides, it differs toto coelo.] and study the addresses in verse and prose or the incense of flattery of the 'Devices' and similar entertainments of her nobles. It will surprize me if he hesitate longer. There is this also to be remembered, that so peculiar, so fantastically unique, was Elizabeth's position, that no one—with his fortune to make—would have dared to write thus hyperbolically of any woman on English ground while Elizabeth was alive, he thereby putting Elizabeth in the back-ground, and infinitely below her. Even Sir Walter Raleigh in 1602—i.e., subsequent to the date of Love's Martyr, thus closes a letter to her Majesty: "And so most humblie imbracing and admiringe the memory of thos celestial bewtyes, which with the people is denied mee to revew, I pray God your Majestie may be eternall in joyes and happines. Your Majesty's most humble slaue." [n Edwards' Life if Sir Walter Ralegh, vol. ii, p. 260 (2 vols., 8ye, 1868, Macmillan.)]
xxiv
By my Notes and Illustrations I put it in the power of anyone to confirm (or to confute if he may) this interpretation of the 'Phoenix' as intended for Elizabeth. I am not aware that anyone has ever so much as hinted at the interpretation; but neither do I know that anyone before has read or studied the extremely rare book. The exceptional interest of the "new compositions" by Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Chapman, Marston, and others, seems to have over-shadowed the larger portion, and thereby, likewise, left these" new compositions" without a key [n I must state that, having communicated my interpretation of the 'Phoenix' and 'Turtle-dove' to my dear friend and fellow-worker in Elizabethan-Jacobean literature, Dr. Brillsley Nicholson of London. I was more than gratified to learn that, on reading the proof-sheets of Love's Martyr (which he had never been fortunate enough to see previously) he had come to the same conclusions. Thus wrought-out in absolute independence, the conclusions themselves may, perhaps, be deemed all the more probable. I must add, that I have had the very great advantage of Dr. Nicholson's reading of the entire proof-sheets of the text and of my Notes and Illustrations. Nothing could exceed the enthusiasm and insight of my richly-furnished friend, whose restored health we are all rejoicing over. As I write this a letter reaches me from Dr. Nicholson with additional illustrations and confirmations of the 'Phoenix ' being Elizabeth - as follows:
"In reading Henry Peacham, M. A., his Minerva Britannia or Garden of Heroicall Devices, 1612, a series of pictorial Impresas or Emblems, with verses in English and Latin, glorifying James and his family and the chief men of rank and note in England, I came across a passage which seems to shew that Elizabeth had adopted the Phoenix as 'her own' Emblem. At the conclusion he has a poetic vision in which Minerva Britannia, as I suppose, shows him a hall filled with their Impresas and Emblems limned on the shields of renowned Englishmen, both kings and peers; and having enumerated some he continues:
With other nnmberleffe befide,
That to haue feene each one's deuice,
How liuely limn'd, how well appli'de
You were the while in Paradife:
Another fide fhe did ordaine
To fome late dead, fome liuing yet,
Who feru'd Eliza in her raigne,
And worthily had honour'd it.
Where turning frift I fpide aboue,
HER OWN DEAR PHOENIX HOVERING,
Whereat me thought in melting Loue,
Apace with teares mine eies did fpring;
But Foole, while I aloft did looke,
For her that was to Heauen flowne.
This goodly place, my fight forfooke,
And on the fuddaine all was gone.'
It is worth adding, that in the body of the book, Peacham gives the Phoenix to Cecil." It may be recalled here that Shakespeare put the 'emblem' of the ‘Phoenix ' into Cranmer's mouth at the baptism of Elizabeth—as thus:
“Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but, as when
The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,
Her ashes new create another heir
As great in admiration as herself,.
So shall she leave her blessedness to one."
(Henry VIII, Act V, sc. 5, 11. 39-43.)
Cf. also my edition of Sylvester, p. 5, for kindred prefatory compliment.
This internal evidence, from Love's Martyr, as to Elizabeth having been meant by the ‘Phoenix' is equally established by external. That is to say, another contemporary Poet—and only supercilious ignorance will deny the name to the author of The Tragedie of Shores Wife, were there no more—THOMAS CHURCHYARD—the 'Old
XXV
Palaemon' of Spenser's Colin Clout—had explicitly celebrated Elizabeth, years before (1593), as the 'Phoenix.' His 'Churchyard's Challenge' is so very rare and unknown, that I think it well to reproduce here his celebrations; for as I take it, it makes what was before certain certainty itself.
The Poems I refer to are these: (a) A fewe plaine verfes of truth againft the flaterie of time, made when the Queens Maieftie was laft at Oxenford; (b) A difcourfe of the only Phoenix of the worlde; (c) A praife of that Phenix; (d) A difcourfe of the ioy good subiects haue when they fee our Phenix abroad; (e) This is taken out of Belleaux made of his own Miftreffe. The whole of these follow. I prefix the Epistle-dedicatory of the entire volume, because in it the 'Queenes Maieftie,' as being the 'Phoenix,' is again designated.
xxvi
I. The Epiftle-dedicatory of " Churchyards Challenge." (1593.)
To the right worfhipfull the Ladie
Anderfon, wife to the right honorable
Lord chiefe Iuftice of the common
Pleas.
My boldnes being much, may paffe the bounds
of duty, but the goodnes of your honourable
husband (good Mac.lame) paffeth fo farre the
commendacion of my renne, that vnder his
iudgement and fhield (that is fo iuft a Iudge) I make a
fauegard to this my prefumption, that bazardeth where
I am vnknowen to prefent any peece of Poetrie or mat-
ter of great effect, yet aduenturing by fortune, to giue
my Lady your Gfter fomewhat in the honour of the
Queenes Maieftie, in the excellencie of her woorthy
praife that neuer can decay; I haue tranfiated some ver-
fes out of French, that a Poet feemed to write of his
owne miftreffe, which verfes are fo apt for the honou-
ring of the Phenix of our worlde, that I cannot hide
them from the fight of the worthy, nor dare commit fo
groffe a fault as to let them die with my felfe: wherfore
and in way of your [auour in publHhing thefe verfes, I
dedicate them to your good Ladiiliippe, though not fo
well penned as the firft Authour did poliili them, yet in
the beft manner my mufe can affoorde, they are plainly
expreffed, hoping they shalbe as well taken as they
are ment, fo the bleffed and great Iudge of
all daily bleffe you.
II. A few plaine verfes of truth againft the flaterie of time, made when the Queens Maieflie was laft at Oxenford [n In the Contents it is entitled “A difcourfe of the only Phenix of the world.” Lady Anderson, supra, was Magdalen, d. of Christopher Smyth, of Annables. co. Herts.].
SIth filent Poets all,
that praife your Ladies fo:
My Phenix makes their plumes to fall,
that would like Peacockes goe.
Some doe their Princes praife,
and Synthia fome doe like:
And fome their Miftreffe honour raife,
As high as Souldiers pike.
Come downe yee doe prefmount, [sic]
the warning bel it founds:
xxvii
That cals you Poets to account,
for breaking of your bounds.
In giuing fame to thofe,
faire flowers that foone doth fade;
And cleane forget the white red rofe,
that God a Phenix made.
Your Ladies alfo doe decline,
like Stars in darkfome night:
When Phenix doth like Phoebus fhine,
and leands the world great light.
You paint to pleafe defire,
your Dame in colours gay:
As though braue words, or trim attire,
could grace a clod of clay.
My Phenix needs not any art,
of Poets painting quil :
She is her felfe in euerie part,
fo fhapte by kindly fkil
That nature cannot wel amend:
and to that fhape moft rare,
The Gods fuch fpeciall grace doth fend,
that is without compare.
The heauens did agree,
by conflellations plaine :
That for her vertue fhee fhould bee the only queene to raigue,
(In her moft happie daies) and carries cleane awaie :
The tip and top of peerleffe prayfe, if all the world fay nay,
Looke not that I fhould name, her vertue in their place,
But looke on her true well-won fame, that anfwers forme & face.
And therein fhall you read, a world of matter now,
That round about the world doth fpread her heauenly graces throw.
The feas (where cannons rore) hath yeilded her her right,
And fent fuch newes vnto the fhore, of enemies foile and flight.
That all the wqrld doth found, the glorie Phenix gote
Whereof an eccho doth rebound, in fuch a tune and note,
(That none alive fhall reatch) of Phenix honor great,
Which fhall the poets mufes teach, how they of her fhold treat.
O then with verfes fweete, if Poets haue good ftore,
Fling down your pen, at Phenix feet, & praife your nimphes no more.
Packe hence, fhe comes in place, a flately Royall Queene :
That takes away your Ladies grace, as foone as fhe is feene.
FINIS.
xxviii
III. A praife of that Phenix [n I take this heading from the ‘Contents,'—there is added, “and verfes tranflated out of French." Throughout these poems of Churchyard there are various instances of verb singular after nominative plural.].
Verfes of value, if Vertue bee feene,
Made of a Phenix, a King, and a Queene.
My Phenix once, was wont to mount the fides,
To fee how birdes, of barer feathers flew:
Then did her Port and pretence pleafe our eies :
Whofe abfence now, breeds nought but fancies new.
The Phenix want, our court, and Realme may rue.
Thus fight of her, fuch welcome gladnes brings,
That world ioeis much, whe[n] Phenix claps her wings.
And flies abroad, to take the open aire,
In royall fort, as bird of ftately kinde :
Who hates foul ftorms; and loues mild weather fair,
And by great force, can lore the bloftring wind, =lower
To fhew the grace, and greatnes of the minde,
My Phenix hath, that vertue growing greene,
When that abroad, her gracious face is feene.
Let neither feare of plagues, nor wits of men,
Keepe Phenix clofe, that ought to liue in light:
Of open world, for abfence wrongs vs then,
To take from world, the Lampe that giues vs light,
O God forbid, our day were turnde to night,
And fhining Sunne, in clowds fhould fhrowded be,
Whofe golden rayes, the world defires to fee.
The Dolphin daunts, each fifh. that fwims the Seas,
The Lion feares, the greateft beaft that goes:
The Bees in Hive, are glad theyr King to pleafe,
And to their Lord, each thing their duety knowes.
But firft the King, his Princely pretence fhowes,
Then fubiects ftoopes, and proftrate fals on face,
Or bowes down head, to giue their maifter place.
The funne hath powre, to comfort flowrs and gras,
And purge the aire, of foule infections all :
Makes ech thing pure, wher his clear beams do paffe.
Draws vp the dew, that mills and fogs lets fall :
My Phenix hath, a greater gift at call,
For vaffalls all, a view of her doe craue,
Becaufe thereby, great hope and hap we haue.
xxix
Good turnes it brings, and fuiters plaints are heard;
The poore are pleafde, the rich fome purchafe gains,
The wicked blufh: the worthy wins reward,
The feruant findes a meanes to quit his paines ;
The wronged man, by her fome right attaines.
Thus euery one, that help and fuccour needes,
In hard diftreffe, on Phenix fauour feedes.
But from our view, if world doe Phenix keepe,
Both Sunne, and Moone, and ftars we bid farewell,
The heauens mourne, the earth will waile and weep.
The heauy heart, it feele,s the paines of Hell,
Woe be to thofe, that in defpaire doe dwell.
Was neuer plague nor peftlence like to this,
When foules of men haue loft fuch heauenly bliffe.
Now futers all, you may fhoote vp your plaints
Your Goddes now, is lockt in fhrine full faft :
You may perhaps, yet pray vnto her Saints.
Whose eares are ftopt, and hearing fure is paft,
Now in the fire, you may fuch Idols caft.
They cannot helpe, like ftockes and ftones they bee,
That haue no life, nor cannot heare nor fee.
Till that at large, our royall Phenix comes,
Packe hence poore men, or picke your fingers endes,
Or blow your nailes, or gnaw and bite your thombs,
Till God aboue, fome better fortune fends.
Who here abides, till this bad world emends,
May doe full well, as tides doe ebbe and flow,
So fortune turnes, and haps doe come and goe.
The bodies ioy, and all the ioints it beares,
Lies in the head, that may commaund the reft :
Let head but ake, the heart is full of feares,
And armes acroffe, we clap on troubled breft :
With heauy thoughts, the mind is fo oppreft,
That neather legs, nor faete haue will to goe,
As man himfelfe, were cleane orecome with woe.
The head is it, that ftill preferues the fence.
And feekes to faue, each member from difeafe :
Devife of head, is bodies whole defence,
The fkill whereof, no part dare well difpleafe :
For as the Moone moues vp the mighty Seas,
So head doth guide the body when it will,
And rules the man, by wit and reafons fkill.
xxx
But how fhould head, indeede doe all this good,
When at our neede, no vfe of head we haue :
The head is felt, if feene and vnderftood.
Then from difgrace, it will the body faue,
And otherwife, fick man drops downe in graue.
For when no heIpe, nor vfe of head we finde,
The feete fals lame, and gazing eies grow blinde.
The lims wax fiiffe, for want of vfe and aide,
The bones doe dry, their marrow waste away:
The heart is dead, the body liues afraide,
The finnowes fhrinke, the bloud doth ftill decay:
So long as wor1d, doth want the Star of day,
So long darke night, we fhall be fure of heere, ;
For clowdy fkies, I feare will neuer cleere.
God fend fame helpe, to falue fick poore mens fores,
A boxe of baulme, would heale our woundes vp quite:
That precious oyle, would eate out rotten cores,
And giue great health, and man his whole delighte.
God fend fome funne, in frostie morning white,
That cakes of yce may melt by gentle thaw,
And at well-head wee may fome water drawe.
A Riddle.
Wee wifh, wee want, yet haue what we defire :
We freefe, wee burne, and yet kept from the fire.
FINIS.
IV. A difcourfe of the ioy good fubieCts haue when they fee owr Phenix abroad [n This heading is from the 'Contents.'].
This is to be red fiue waies.
IN hat a fauour worne, a bird of gold in Britaine land,
In loyall heart is borne, yet doth on head like Phenix ftand.
To fet my Phenix forth, whofe vertues may the[m] al furmou[n]t.
An orient pearle more worth, in value, price & good account.
The gold or precious ftone, what tong or verfe dare her diftain,
A peereleffe paragon, in whom fuch gladfome gifts remaine.
Whofe feemly fhape is wroght as out of wax wer made ye mold
By fine deuife of thought, like fhrined Saint in beaten gold:
Dame Nature did difdaine, and thought great fcorn in any fort,
To make the like againe, that fhould deferue fuch rare report.
Ther needes no Poets pen, nor painters pencel, come in place,
xxxi
Nor flatring frafe of men, whofe filed fpech giues ech thing grace,
To praire this worthy dame, a Nimph which Dian holds full deer
That in fuch perfett frame, as mirror bright & chriftal deer
Is fet out to our view, threefold as faire as shining Sunne,
For beauty grace and hue, a worke that hath great glory won,
A Goddes dropt from fky, for caufes more than men may know,
To pleafe both minde & eie for thofe that dwels on earth below,
And fhew what heauenly grace, and noble fecret power diuine
Is feene in Princely face, that kind hath formd & framd fo fine.
For this is all I write, of facred Phenix ten times bleft,
To fhew mine own delite, as fancies humor thinketh beft.
FINIS.
V. This is taken out of Belleau made of his own Miftreffe [n While this piece has nothing of the 'Phoenix ' in it, it is equally good for our purpose, as shewing how Elizabeth was addressed (as in Chester') by the titles of ‘Sun,’ &c.].
Sad sighes doth fhew, the heat of heartes defire,
And forrow fpeakes, by fignes of heauie eyes:
So if hot flames, proceed from holly fire,
And loue may not, from vicious fancies eyes
In tarrying time, and fauour of the fkies,
My only good, and greateft hap doth lie:
In her that doth, all fond delight difpies :
Than turne to mee, fad fighes I fhall not dye.
If that bee fhee, who hath fo much mee bound,
And makes me hers, as I were not mine owne :
She moft to praife, that maie aliue be founde,
Moft great and good, and gracious througly knowne.
Shee all my hope, in briefe yea more than mine,
(That quickly maie, bring life by looke of eye)
Than come chaeft fighes, a close record diuine,
Returne to mee, and I lhall neuer dye.
If from young yeares, fhee gainde the garland gaye,
And wan the price, of all good giftes of grace: =prize
If princely port, doe vertuous minde be wraie,
And royall power, be found by noble face,
If fhee bee borne, moft happie graue and wife,
A Sibill fage, fent downe from heauens hie,
O fmothring fightes, that faine would clofe mine eyes,
Returne to mee, fo fhall I neuer die.
xxxii
If moft vpright, and faire of forme fhee bee,
That may beare life, and fweeteft manner fhowes,
Loues God, good men, and Countries wealth doth fee,
A queene of kinges, all Chriftian princes knowes,
So iuftly liues, that each man hath his owne,
Sets ftraight each ftate, that elfe would goe awrie :
Whereby her fame, abroad the world is blowne;,
Then feace fad fighes, fo fhall I neuer die.
If fhee the heart of Alexander haue,
The fharpe efprite, and hap of Haniball,
The conftant mind, that Gods to Scipio gaue.
And Caefars grace, whofe triumphs paffed all,
If in her thought, do dwell the iudgement great,
Of all that raignes, and rules from earth to fkie:
(And fits this houre, in throne and regall feate).
Come fighes againe, your maifter cannot die.
If fhe be found, to taft the pearcing ayr,
In heate, in colde, in froft, in fnowe and rayne :
As diamond, that fhines fo paffing faire,
That funne nor moone, nor weather cannot ftaine :
If blaftes of winde, and ftormes to beautie yelde,
And this well fpringe, makes other fountaines drye,
(Turnes tides and floodes, to water baraine feeld,)
Come fighes then home, I liue and cannot die.
If her great giftes, doth daunt dame fortunes might,
And fhe haue caught the hayres and head of hap:
To others hard, to her a matter light,
To mount the cloudes, and [all in honours lap.
If fhee herfelfe, and others conquers too,
Liues long in peace, and yet doth warre defie :
As valiaunt kinges, and vertuous victors doe,
Then fighe no more, O heart I cannot die.
If fuch a prince, abafe her highneffe than,
For some good thing, the world may geffe in mee:
And ftoupes fo low, too like a fillie man,
That little knowes, what Princes grace may bee.
If fhee well waie, my faith and feruice true,
And is the iudge, and toutch that gold fhall trie:
That colour cleere, that neuer changeth hue,
Heart figh no more, I liue and may not die.
If I doe vfe, her fauour for my weale,
By reafon off, her gracious countenance ftill:
And from the flame, a little light I fteale,
To keepe the life, in lampe to burne at will.
xxxiii
If robberie thus, a true man may commit,
Both I and mine, vnto her merits flie :
If I prefume, it fpringes for want of wit,
Excufe me than, fad fighes or elfe I die.
If thee do know, her fhape in heart I beare,
Engraude in breaft, her grace and figure is,
Yea day and night, I thinke and dreame each where,
On nothing elfe, but on that heauenly bliffe,
If fo transformde, my mind and body liues,
But not confumde, nor finde no caufe to cry,
And waite on her, that helpe and comfort giues ,
Than come poore fighes, your maifter shall not die..
If fhe behold, that here I wilfh no breath,
But liue all hers, in thought and word and deede:
Whofe fauour loft, I craue but prefent death,
Whofe grace attaind, lean foule full fat fhall feed:
If any caufe, do keepe her from my fight,
I know no world, my felf I than deny,
But if her torch, doe lend my candle light,
Heart figh no more, the body doth not die.
But if by death, or fome difgrace of mine
Through enuies fting, or falfe report of foes,
My view be bard, from that fweete face diuine.
Beleeue for troth, to death her feruaut goes,
And rather fure, than I fhould ill conceiue :
Sighes mount to fkies, you know the caufe and why
How here below, my lufty life I leaue,
Attend me there, for wounded heart muft die.
If thee beleeue, without her prefence here,
That anything, may now content my minde :
Or thinke in world, is fparke of glorlfome cheere,
Where fhee is not, nor I her prefence finde :
But all the ioys, that man imagine may,
As handmaides wayt, on her heere vnder fky,
Then fighes mount vp, to heauens hold your way,
And flay me there, for I of force muft die.
If I may feare, that fragill beauty light,
Or femblance faire, is to be doubted fore:
Or my vaine youth, may turn with fancies might
Or fighes full falles fains griefe or torment more,
Than heart doth feele, then angry ftars aboue,
Doe band your reines, gainft me in heauens hie.
And rigor worke, to conquer conftant laue,
Mount vp poore fighes, here is no helpe, I die.
xxxiv
And fo fad fighes, the witnes of my thought,
If loue finde not, true guerdon for good will :
Ere that to graue, my body fhalbe brought,
Mount vp to clowds, and there abide me ftill,
But if good hope, and hap fome fuccour fend,
And honor doth, my vertuous minde fupply,
With treble bliffe, for which I long attend,
Returne good fighes, I mean not now to die.
Tranflated out of French, for one that is bounde much to Fortune.
FINIS.
It were easy to multiply contemporary and funereal ‘flatteries' of Elizabeth under the name of the 'Phoenix,' and from Cynthia in Spenser to the Rosalind and Orianas of many 'Madrigals,' [n See an interesting paper on 'Madrigals' in honour of Elizabeth in Notes and Queries, first series, vol. iv, pp. 185-188. See Postscript D for additional ‘Phoenix' references, &c.] and Atropeion Delion of Thomas Newton (1603), shew that she was even to old age receptive of the loftiest names and the most celestial praise, especially if they lauded her 'beauty' or her intellect. But for our present purpose more cannot be required.
Having thus determined that Elizabeth was the 'Phoenix,' I proceed now to inquire who was intended by the' Turtledoue.' As with the' Phoenix,' I must request attention to our Notes and Illustrations on the places wherein the ‘Turtle-doue' occurs. It will there be found that, contrary to ordinary usage, the 'Turtle-doue' is distinctly ‘sung’ of as a male, by the necessities indeed of the 'love' relations sustained towards the 'Phoenix,' and of the 'Phoenix ' towards the' Turtle-doue,' e.g.:
Nature.
" Fly in this Chariot, and come fit by me,
And we will leaue this ill corrupted Land,
Well take our courfe through the blue Azure fkie,
And fet our feete on Paphos golden fand.
There of that Turtle Doue we'll vnderftand :
And visit HIM in thofe delightful plaines,
Where Peace conioyn'd with Plenty ftill remaines." (p, 32.)
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It will also be found that, as with Elizabeth as the 'Phoenix,' so with the (Turtle-doue,' epithet and circumstance and the whole bearing of the Poems, make us think of but one preeminent man in the Court of Elizabeth. Let the Notes and Illustrations on portions of these Poems relative to the 'Turtle-doue' be critically pondered; and unless I err egregiously, it will be felt that only of the brilliant but impetuous, the greatly-dowered but rash, the illustrious but unhappy Robert Devereux, second earl of Essex, could such splendid things have been thought. Inevitably 'Liberal Honour' and 'Love's Lord,' are accepted as his titles of right; while his Letters to Elizabeth and of Elizabeth to him reveal the 'envy' and 'jealousy' and hatreds against which he fought his way upward [n See Lives and Letters of the Devereux, Earls of Essex, &c., &c. By the Hon. W. B. Devereux, 2 vols. 8vo, 1853. (Murray.)]. I invite prolonged scrutiny of this description and portraiture:
"Hard by a running ftreame or cryftall fountaine,
Wherein rich Orient pearle is often found,
Enuiron'd with a high and fteepie mountaine,
A fertill foile and fruitful plot of ground,
There fhalt thou find true Honors louely Squire,
That for this Phenix keepes Prometheus fire.
His bower wherein he lodgeth all the night,
Is fram'd of Caedars and, high loftie Pine,
I made his houfe to chaftice thence defpight,
And fram'd it like this heauenly roofe of mine:
His name is Liberall honor, and his hart,
Aymes at true faithfull feruice and defart.
Looke on his face, and in his browes doth fit,
Bloud and fweete Mercie hand in hand vnited,
Bloud to his foes, a prefident moft fit
For fuch as haue his gentle humour fpited :
His Haire is curl'd by nature mild and meeke,
Hangs careleffe downe to fhroud a blufhing cheeke.
Giue him this Ointment to annoint his Head,
This precious Balme to lay vnto his feet,
There fhall direct him to the Phoenix bed,
Where on a high hill he this Bird fhall meet:
And of their Afhes by my doome fhal rife,
Another Phenix her to equalize." (pp. 19-20)
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The 'Turtle Dove,' as thus described, was then in 'Paphos Ile'; and what was meant by it will appear in the sequel. But I ask anyone familiar with the men and events of the reign of Elizabeth, if Essex is not instantly suggested by these and parallel passages and allusions in Love's Martyr? This being so, we should expect that Essex would be found elsewhere similarly described; and if, in giving Churchyard’s remarkable 'Phoenix' poems, I felt that I was by them placing our interpretation beyond cavil, I have much the same conviction in now submitting certain extracts from a poem avowedly in his honour, when he was in the golden sunshine (yet not without broad shadows) of his favour with Elizabeth. I refer to "An Eglogve Gratvlatorie. Entitled: To the right honorable, and renowned Shepheard of Albions Arcadia: Robert Earle of Essex and Ewe, for his welcome into England from Portugall. Done by George Peele." (1589.) [n Dyce's Greene, pp. 559-563, I vol., 8vo, 1861. It is much to be regretted that, here as invariably, so competent a scholar and so noble a worker as the late Mr. Dyce modernized the orthography of his texts, thereby obliterating all philological and critical value.]
Let these speak for themselves, by help of our italics occasionally:
Piers..
“Of arms to flng I haue nor luft nor fkill ; list?
Enough is me to blazon my good-will,
To welcome home that long hath lacked been,
One of the jollieft fhepherds of our green;
Io, io paean!
Palinode.
Tell me, good Piers, 1 pray thee tell it me,
What may thilk jolly fwain or fhepherd be,
Or whence y-comen, that he thus welcome is,
That thou art all fo blithe to fee his bliffe?
Piers.
. . . . Thilk fhepherd, Palinode, whom my pipe praifeth,
Where glory my reed to the welkin raifeth,
He's a great herdgroom, certes, but no fwain,
Saue hers that is the flower of Phoebe's plain;
Io, io paean!
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He's well-allied and loved of the beft,
Well-thew'd, fair and frank, and famous by his creft;
His Rain-deer, racking with proud and ftately pace,
Giveth to his flock a right beautiful grace;
Io, io paean!
He waits where our great fhepherdefs doth wun,
He playeth in the fhade, and thriveth in the fun;
He fhineth on the plains, his lufty flock him by,
As when Apollo kept in Arcady;
Io, io paean!
Fellow in arms he was in their flowring days
With that great fhepherd, good Philifides; Sir Philip Sidney.
And in fad fable did I fee him dight,
Moaning the mifs of Pallas' peerlefs knight;
Io, io paean!
With him he ferv'd, and watch'd, and waited late,
To keep the grim wolf from Eliza's gate; [Anjou, Tyrone, &c.]
And for their miftrefs, thoughten thefe two fwains,
They moughten neuer take too mickle pains;
Io, io paean!
But, ah for grief! that jolly groom is dead,
For whom the Mufes, filver tears have fhed ;
Yet in this lovely fwain, fource of our glee,
Mun all his virtues fweet reviven be ;
Io, io paean!
Palinode.
"Thou foolifh fwain that thus art over-joy'd,
How foon may here thy courage be accoy'dl
If he be one come new from weftern coaft,
Small caufe hath he, or thou for him to boaft.
I fee no palm, I fee no laurel boughs
Circle his temples or adorn his brows;
I hear no triumphs for this late return,
But many a herdsman more difpos'd to mourn.
Piers.
Pale lookeft thou, like fpite, proud Palinode ;
Venture doth lofs, and war doth danger bode :
But thou art of thofe harvefters, I fee,
Would at one fhock fpoil all the filberd tree;
Io, io paean!
For fhame, 1 fay, give virtue honour's due!
I'll pleafe the fhepherd but by telling true:
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Palm mayft thou fee and bays about his head,
That all his flock right forwardly hath led;
Io, io paean!
Then comes ENVY, as so frequently in Love's Martyr and the Essex letters (to and from), with sinister influence:
" But woe is me, lewd lad, fame's full of lies,
ENVY DOTH AYE TRUE HONOUR'S DEEDS DESPISE,
Yet chivalry will mount with glorious wings
SPITE ALL, AND NESTLE NEAR THE SEAT OF KINGS;
Io, io paean!
Finally, Chester's ‘Liberall Honor’ is introduced :
" O HONOUR'S FIRE, that not the brackifh fea
Mought quench, nor foeman's fearful 'larums lay!
So high thofe golden flakes done mount and climb
That they exceed the reach of fhepher