Classic Poem

A Secret many yeeres vnseene,
 In play at Chesse, who knowes the game
First of the King, and then the Queene,
 Knight, Bishop, Rooke, and so by name.
Of euerie Pawne I will descrie
The nature with the qualitie.

The King.

The King himselfe is haughtie Care
 Which ouerlooketh all his men
And when he seeth how they fare.
 He steps among them now and then,
Whom when his foe presumes to checke
His seruants stand, to giue the necke.

The Queene.

The Queene is queint, and quicke Conceit,
 Which makes hir walke which way she list
And rootes them vp, that lie in wait
 To worke hir treason, ere she wist:
Hir force is such, against hir foes,
That whom she meetes, she ouerthrowes.

The Knight.

The Knight is knowledge how to fight
 Against his Princes enimies,
He neuer makes his walke outright,
 But leaps and skips, in wilie wise.
To take by sleight a traitrous foe,
Might slilie seeke their ouerthrowe.

The Bishop.

The Bishop he is wittie braine,
 That chooseth Crossest pathes to pace.
And euermore he pries with paine,
 To see who seekes him most disgrace:
Such straglers when he findes astraie,
He takes them vp, and throwes awaie.

The Rookes

The Rookes are reason on both sides,
 Which keepe the corner houses still.
And warily stand to watch their tides.
 By secret art to worke their will,
To take sometime a theefe vnseene,
Might mischiefe meane to King or Queene.

The Paiones.

The Pawne before the King, is peace
 Which he desires to keepe at home,
Practise the Queenes, which doth not cease
 Amid the world abroad to roame.
To finde, and fall vpon each foe,
Whereas his mistres meanes to goe.

Before the Knight, is perill plast,
 Which he, by skipping ouergoes,
And yet that Pawne can worke a cast
 To ouerthrow his greatest foes;
The Bishops, prudence; prieng still,
Which way to worke his masters will.

The Rookes poore Pawnes, are sillie swaines,
 Which seeidome serue, except by hap,
And yet those Pawnes, can lay their traines.
 To catch a great man, in a trap:
So that I see, sometime a groome
May not be sparèd from his roome.

The Nature of the Chesse men.

The King is stately, looking hie:
The Queene doth beare like maiestie:
The Knight is hardie, valiant, wise:
The Bishop, prudent and precise:
 The Rookes, no raungers out of raie
 The Pawnes, the pages in the plaie.

Lenvoy.

Then rule with care, and quicke conceit,
 And fight with knowledge, as with force;
So beare a braine, to dash deceit,
 And worke with reason and remorse:
Forgiue a fault when yoong men plaie
So giue a mate and go your way
And when you plaie beware of Checke
Know how to saue and giue a necke:
And with a Checke, beware of Mate;
But cheefe, ware had I wist too late:
 Loose not the Queene, for ten to one.
 If she be lost, the game is gone.