Classic Poem

Awak'd, and trembling betwixt Rage and Dread
With the lowd slander (by the impious Time)
That of my Actions every-where is spred,
Through which to honour falsly I should clime:
From the sad dwelling of th'untimely dead,
To quit Me of that Execrable Crime,
C ROMWELL appeares, his wretched plight to show,
Much that can tell, as one that much did know.

Roughly not made up in the common mould,
That with the vulgar vilely I should die,
What thing so strange of C ROMWELL is not told?
What man more prays'd? Who more condemn'd then I?
That with the World when I am waxed old,
Most't were unfit that Fame of Me should lie,
With Fables vaine my Historie to fill,
Forcing my good, excusing of my Ill.

You, that but hearing of my hated Name,
Your ancient Malice instantly bewray,
And for my sake your ill-deserved Blame,
Upon my Legend publikely shall lay;
Would you forbeare to blast Me with Defame,
Might I so meane a priviledge but pray,
He that three Ages had endur'd your wrong,
Heare Him a little who hath heard you long,

Since Romes sad Ruine here by Me began,
Who Her Religion pluckt up by the Root,
Of the false World such Hate for which I wan,
Which still at Me her poisned'st Darts doth shoot;
That to excuse it, doe the best I can,
Little, I feare, my labour Me will boot
Yet will I speake my troubled Heart to ease,
Much to the Minde, Her selfe it is to please.

O powerfull Number, from whose stricter Law,
Heart-mooving Musike did receive the Ground
Which Man to faire Civility did draw,
With the brute Beast when lawlesse He was found:
O, if according to the wiser Saw,
There be a high Divinitie in sound,
Be now abundant prosp'rously to aide
The Pen prepar'd, my doubtfull Case to plead.

Putney the Place made blessed by my Birth,
Whose meanest Cottage simply Me did shrowd,
To Me as dearest of the English Earth;
So of my bringing that poore Village proud,
Though in a time when never lesse the Dearth
Of happie Wits, yet Mine so well allow'd,
That with the best She boldly durst prefer
Me, that my breath acknowledged from Her.

Twice flow'd proud Thames as at my comming wood,
Striking the wondring Bord'rers with Feare,
And the pale Genius of that aged floud,
To my sicke Mother labouring did appeare,
And with a Countenance much distracted stood,
Threatning the Fruit Her pained Wombe should beare:
My speedy Birth being added thereunto,
Seem'd to fore-tell, that much I came to doe.

Who was reserved for those worser daies,
As the great Ebbe unto so long a Flow,
When what those Ages formerly did raise,
This, when I liv'd, did lastly overthrow,
And that great'st Labour of the World did seize,
Only for which immedicable Blow
Due to that Time, Me dooming Heaven ordain'd,
Wherein Confusion absolutely raign'd,

Vainly yet noted this prodigious Signe,
Often Predictions of most fearefull things,
As Plagues, or Warre, or great Men to decline,
Rising of Commons, or the Death of Kings;
But some strange Newes though ever it divine,
Yet forth them not immediately it brings,
Until th'effects Men afterward did learne,
To know that Me it chiefly did concerne.

Whilst yet my Father by His painfull Trade,
Whose labour'd Anvile only was His Fee,
Whom my great tow'rdnesse strongly did perswade,
In Knowledge to have educated Mee:
But Death did Him unluckily invade,
Ere He the fruits of His Desire could see,
Leaving Me young, then little that did know,
How Me the Heavens had purpos'd to bestow.

Hopelesse as helplesse most might Me suppose,
Whose meannesse seem'd their abject breath to draw:
Yet did my Brest that glorious fire inclose,
Which their dull purblind Ignorance not saw,
Which still is settled upon outward Showes,
The Vulgars judgement ever is so raw,
Which the unworthiest sottishly doe love,
In their owne Region properly that move.

Yet Me my Fortune so could not disguise,
But through this Cloud were some that did Me know,
Which then the rest, more happie or more wise,
Me did relieve when I was driven low,
Which as the stayres by which I first did rise,
When to my hieght I after ward did grow,
Them to requite, my Bounties were so hie,
As made my Fame through every Eare to flie.

That height and Godlike puritie of Minde,
Resteth not still, where Titles most adorne
With any, nor peculiarly confinde
To Names, and to be limited doth scorne:
Man doth the most degenerate from kinde,
" Richest and poorest both alike are borne;
" And to be alwaies pertinently good,
" Followes not still the greatnesse of our Bloud.

Pitie it is, that to one vertuous Man
That Marke him lent, to Gentrie to advance,
Which first by Noble industrie he wan,
His baser Issue after should inhance,
And the rude Slave not any good that can,
Such should thrust downe by what is his by chance:
As had not He beene first that him did raise,
Ne'r had his great Heire wrought his Grandsires praise.

How weake art thou that makest it thy end,
To heape such worldly Dignities on thee,
When upon Fortune only they depend,
And by her changes governed must bee?
Besides the dangers still that such attend,
Livel'est of all Men pourtrayed out in mee,
When That, for which I hated was of all,
Soon'st from me fled, scarce tarrying for my fall.

You that but boast your Ancestors proud Stile,
And the large Stem whence your vaine Greatnesse grew,
When you your selves are ignorant and vile,
Nor glorious Thing dare actually pursue,
That all good Spirits would utterly exile,
Doubting their worth should else discover you,
Giving your selves unto Ignoble things;
Base I proclaime you, though deriv'd from Kings.

Vertue, but poore, God in this Earth doth place,
'Gainst the rude World to stand up in his right,
To suffer sad affliction and disgrace,
Not ceasing to pursue her with despight:
Yet when of all shee is accounted base,
And seeming in most miserable plight,
Out of her Power new Life to her doth take,
Least then dismayd, when all doe her forsake.

That is the Man of an undaunted spirit,
For her deare sake that offereth him to dye,
For whom, when him the World doth disinherit,
Looketh upon it with a pleased Eye,
What's done for Vertue thinking it doth merit,
Daring the proudest menaces defie,
More worth then Life, how ere the base World rate him,
Belov'd of Heaven, although the Earth doth hate him.

Injurious Time, unto the Good unjust,
O! how may weake Posteritie suppose
Ever to have their merit from the Dust,
'Gainst them thy partialitie that knowes!
To thy report, O who shall ever trust,
Triumphant arches building unto those,
Allow'd the longest memorie to have,
That were the most unworthy of a Grave!

But my cleere mettle had that powerfull heate,
As it not turn'd with all that Fortune could:
Nor when the World me terriblest did threat,
Could win that place, which my high thoughts did hold,
That waxed still more prosperously great,
The more the World me strove to have controll'd,
On mine owne Columnes constantly to stand,
Without the false helpe of anothers Hand.

My Youthfull course thus wisely did I steere,
T'avoid those Rocks my wracke that else did threat:
Yet some faire Hopes from farre did still appeare,
If that too much my wants did me not let:
Wherefore my Selfe above my Selfe to beare,
Still as I grew, I knowledge strove to get,
To perfect that which in the Embryon was,
Whose Birth, I found, Time well might bring to passe.

But when my meanes to faile me I did find,
My selfe to Travell presently I tooke,
For 'twas distastefull to my Noble mind,
That the vile World into my wants should looke,
Being besides industriously inclinde,
To measure others Actions with my Booke,
My Judgement more to rectifie thereby,
In matters that were difficult and hye.

When, loe, it hapt, that Fortune as my Guide,
Of me did with such providence dispose,
That th' English Merchants then, who did reside
At Antwerpe , me their Secretarie chose,
(As though in me to manifest her pride)
Whence to those Principalities I rose,
To plucke me downe, whence afterward shee fear'd,
Beyond her Power, that almost shee had rear'd.

When first the wealthy Netherlands me trayn'd,
In wise Commerce most proper to that Place,
And from my Countrie carefully me wayn'd,
As with the World it meant to winne me Grace,
Where great experience happily I gayn'd;
Yet here I seem'd but tutor'd for a space,
For high imployment otherwise ordayn'd,
Till which, the Time I idlely entertayn'd.

For Boston businesse hotly then in hand,
The charge thereof on C HAMBERS being layd,
Comming to Flanders , hapt to understand
Of me, whom he requested him to ayd;
Of which, when I the benefit had scand,
Weighing what time at Antwerpe I had stayd,
Soone it me wonne faire Italy to trie,
Under a cheerefull and more luckie skie:

For what the meanest cleerely makes to shine,
Youth, Wit, and Courage, all in me concurre:
In every project, that so powerfull Trine,
By whose kind working bravely I did sturre,
Which to each high and glorious designe
(The Time could offer) freely did me spurre,
As, forcing Fate, some new thing to prepare,
(Shewing successe) t'attempt that could me dare:

Where now my Spirit got roomth it selfe to show,
To the fayr'st pitch to make a gallant flight,
From things that too much earthly were and low,
Strongly attracted by a Genuine light,
Where higher still it every day did grow;
And being in so excellent a plight,
Crav'd but occasion happily to prove,
How much it sate each vulgar Spirit above.

The good successe th'affaires of England found,
Much prays'd the choice of me that had beene made:
For where most Men the depth durst hardly sound,
I held it nothing boldly through to wade,
My selfe, and through the straitest wayes I woond.
So could I act, so well I could perswade,
As meerely Joviall in my selfe was I,
Compos'd of freedome and alacritie.

Not long it was ere Rome of me did ring,
(Hardly shall Rome so full dayes see agen)
Of Freemens Catches to the Pope I sing,
Which wan much licence to my Countrimen,
Thither, the which I was the first did bring,
That were unknowne to Italy till then:
Light humours, them when judgement doth direct,
Even of the Wise winne plausible respect.

And those, from home that Pensions were allow'd,
And there did for Intelligence remayne,
Under my power themselves were glad to shrowd,
R USSEIL and P ACE , yea, oftentimes were fayne,
When as their Names they durst not have avow'd,
Me into their Societie t'retayne,
Rising before me, Mightie as they were,
Great though at home, yet did they need me there.

In forraine parts neere Friends I yet forsake,
That had before beene deeply bound to mee,
And would againe I use of them should make,
But still my Starres command I should be free,
And all those offers lightly from me shake,
Which to requite, I fettred else might bee;
And thought that oft great perils me oppung,
And meanes were weake, my mind was ever strong.

Yet those great wants, Fate to my Youth did tye,
Me from the pompe of those rich Countries drive,
Thereby inforc'd with painfull industrie,
Against affliction manfully to strive,
Under her burthen faintly not to lye:
But since my good I hardly must derive,
Into the same I thought to make my way,
Through all the Power against me shee could lay.

As a Comedian and my life I led,
For so a while my need did me constraine,
With other my poore Countrimen (that plai'd)
Thither that came in hope of better gaine:
Whereas when Fortune seem'd me low to tread
Under her feete, shee set me up againe,
Untill her use bad me her not to feare,
Her good and ill that patiently could beare.

Till C HARLES the fift th'Emperiall Power did bend
'Gainst Rome , which B URBON skilfully did guide,
Which fast-declining Italy did rend;
For th'Right that him her Holinesse denide,
Wholly her selfe inforced to defend
'Gainst him that justly punished her pride,
To which my selfe I lastly did betake,
To see thereof what fortune meant to make.

And at the siege with that great Generall serv'd,
When he first girt her stubborne waste with steele,
Within her Walls who well-neere being starv'd,
And that with faintnesse shee began to reele,
Shewing her selfe a little as shee swarv'd:
First her then noting I began to feele,
Shee, whose great power so farre abroad did roame,
What in her selfe shee truely was at home.

That the great Schoole of the false World was then,
Where her's their subtill practices did vie,
Amongst that mightie confluence of Men,
French plots propt up by English policie,
The German powers, false shuffling, and agen
All countermin'd by skilfull Italy ,
Each one in possibilitie to win,
Great rests were up, and mightie hands were in.

Here first to worke my busie brayne was set,
(My inclination finding it to please
This stirring World which strongly still did whet)
To temper in so dangerous assayes,
Which did strange formes of policies beget;
Besides in times so turbulent as these,
Whereto my studies wholly I did bend
To that which then, the wisest made their end:

And my experience happily me taught
Into the secrets of those Times to see,
From whence to England afterward I brought
Those slights of State deliv'red there to mee,
In t'which there then were very few that sought,
Nor did with th'humour of that age agree,
Which after did most fearefull things effect,
Whose secret working few did then suspect.

When though 'twere long, it hapned yet at last,
Some Hopes me homeward secretly allur'd,
When many perils strangely I had past,
As many sad calamities endur'd:
Beyond the Moone, when I began to cast,
By my rare parts what place might be procur'd,
If they at home were to the Mightie knowne,
How they would seeme compared with their owne.

Or if that there the Great should me neglect,
As I the worst that vainely did not feare,
To my experience how to gayne respect
In other Countries that doe hold it deare,
I no occasion vainely did reject,
Whil'st still before me other rising were,
And some themselves had mounted to the skie,
Little before unlike to thrive as I.

When now in England Bigamie with blood
Lately begot by Luxurie and Pride,
In their great'st fulnesse peremptorie stood;
Some that those courses diligently ey'd,
Slily were fishing in that troubled Flood,
For future changes wisely to provide,
Finding the World so rankely then to swell,
That till it brake, it never could be well.

But floting long upon my first arrive,
Whil'st many doubts me seemed to appall,
Like to a Barke that with the Tide doth drive,
Having nought left to fasten it withall,
Thus with the Time by suffring I doe strive
Into what Harbour doubtfully yet to fall;
Untill inforc'd to put it to the chance,
Casting the fair'st, my fortune to advance.

Making my selfe to mightie Woolsey knowne,
That A TLAS , which the governement upstay'd,
Who from meane place in little time was growne
Up to him, which that weight upon him lay'd,
And being got the neerest to his Throne,
He the more easly this great Kingdome sway'd,
Leaning thereon his wearied selfe to breathe,
Whil'st even the Greatest sat him farre beneath.

Where learned M ORE and G ARDINER I met,
Men, in those Times, immatchable for wit,
Able that were the dullest Spirit to whet,
And did my humour excellently fit,
Into their Ranke and worthily did get
There as their proud Competitor to sit.
" One Excellence to many is the Mother,
" Wits doe, as Creatures, one beget another.

This Founder of the Palaces of Kings,
Whose Veines with more then usuall Spirit were fild,
A Man ordayned to the mighti'st Things,
In Oxford then determining to build
To C HRIST a Colledge, and together brings
All that thereof the great Foundation wills,
There me imployes, whose industrie he found
Worthy to worke upon the noblest Ground.

Yet in the entrance wisely did he feare
Coyne might fall short, yet with this worke on fire,
Wherefore such Houses as Religious were,
Whose being no necessitie require,
But that the greater very well might beare,
From Rome the Card'nall cunningly did hire,
Winning withall his Soveraigne to consent,
It colouring with so Holy an intent.

This like a symptome to a long disease,
Was the forerunner to this mightie Fall,
And but too unadvisedly did ceaze
Upon the part that ruinated all,
Which, had the Worke beene of so many dayes,
And more againe, recover hardly shall:
But, loe, it sunke, which Time did long uphold,
Where now it lyes even levell'd with the mold.

Thus, thou great Rome , here first wast overthrowne,
Thy future harmes that blindly couldst not see,
And in this worke they only were thine owne,
Whose knowledge lent that deadly wound to thee,
Which to the World before had they not showne,
Ne'r had those secrets beene descry'd by mee,
Nor by thy wealth so many from the plow,
Worne those high Types wherein they flourish now.

For which, my Master Woolsey might and mayne,
Into such favour with the King me brought,
Tow'rds whom my selfe so well I did demeane,
As that I seem'd to exercise his thought,
And his great liking strongly did retayne,
With what before that Card'nall had me taught,
From whose example, by those Cells but small,
Sprang the subversion lastly of them all.

Yet many a let was cast into the way,
Wherein I ranne so steadily and right,
And many a snare my Adversaries lay,
Much wrought they with their power, much with their slight,
Wisely perceiving that my smallest stay
Fully requir'd the utmost of their might,
To my ascendant hasting then to clime,
There as the first predomining the time.

Knowing what wealth me earnestly did woo,
Which I through Woolsey hapned had to find,
And could the Path most perfectly unto,
The King thereafter earnestly inclin'd,
Seeing besides what after I might doe,
If so great Power me fully were assign'd,
By all their meanes against me strongly wrought,
Lab'ring as fast to bring their Church to nought.

Whil'st to the King continually I sue,
And in this businesse faithfully did stirre,
Strongly t'approve my judgement to be true,
'Gainst those who most supposed me to erre,
Nor the least meanes which any way I knew
Might grace me, or my purposes preferre
Did I omit, till I had wonne his Eare,
Most that me mark'd, when least he seem'd to heare.

This wound to them thus violently given,
Envy, at me her sharpest Darts did rove,
Affecting the Supremacy of Heaven,
As the first Gyants warring against J OVE ,
Heap'd Hills on Hills, the Gods till they had driven,
The meanest Shapes of Earthly things to prove:
So must I shift from them that 'gainst me rose,
Mortall their hate, as mightie were my Foes.

But their great force against Me wholly bent,
Prevail'd upon my purposes so farre,
That I my Ruine scarsly could prevent,
So momentarie worldly Favours are,
That till the utmost of their spight was spent,
Had not my spirit maintain'd a manly Warre,
Risen they had, when I had layne full low,
Upon whose Ruine after I did grow.

When the Great King, their strange Reports that tooke,
Who as pernicious as they potent were,
And at the faire growth of my Fortune strooke,
Whose deadly Malice blame Me not to feare,
Me at the first so violently shooke,
That they this frame were likely downe to beare,
If Resolution with a settled Brow,
Had not upheld my peremptorie Vow.

Yet these Encounters thrust Me not awry,
Nor could my Courses force Me to forsake,
After this Shipwracke I againe must try,
Some happier Voyage hopefull still to make:
The Plots that barren long we see doe lie,
Some fitting Season plentifully take.
" One fruitfull Harvest frankly doth restore
" What many Winters hindred have before.

That to account I strictly call my Wit,
How it this while had managed my State,
My Soule in counsell summoning to sit,
If possible to turne the course of Fate,
For wayes there be the greatest things to hit,
If Men could find the peremptorie gate,
And since I once was got so neere the Brinke,
More then before, 't would grieve Me now to sinke.

R USSELI , whose Life (some said) that I had sav'd
In Italy , one that Me favoured most,
And Reverend H AYLES , who but occasion crav'd
To shew his Love, no lesse that I had cost,
Who to the King perceiving Me disgrac'd,
Whose favour I unluckily had lost,
Both with Him great, a foot set in withall,
If not to stay, to quallifie my Fall.

High their regard, yet higher was their hap,
Well-neere quite sunke, recover Me that could,
And once more get me into Fortunes Lap,
Which well my selfe might teach Me there to hold,
Escap'd out of so dangerous a trap,
Whose prayse by Me to Ages shall be told,
As the two props by which I only rose,
When most supprest, most trod on by my Foes.

This Me to urge the Premunire wonne,
Ordain'd in Matters dangerous and hie,
In t' which the heedlesse Prelacie were runne,
That backe unto the Papacie did flie,
Sworne to that Sea, and what before was done,
Due to the King, dispensed were thereby,
In t' which first entring offred Me the Meane,
That to throw downe, alreadie that did leane.

This was to Me that over-flowing Sourse,
From whence His Bounties plentifully spring,
Whose speedie current with unusuall force
Bare Me into the Bosome of the King,
By putting Him into that readie course,
Which soone to passe His Purposes might bring,
Where those which late imperiously controld Me,
Strooke pale with feare, stood trembling to behold Me.

When State to Me those Ceremonies show'd,
That to so great a Favourite were due,
And Fortune still with Honours did Me load,
As though no meane, She in my rising knew,
Or Heaven to Me, more then to Man had ow'd,
(What to the World unheard of was and new.)
And was to other sparing of her store,
Till She could give, or I could aske no more.

Those high Preferments He upon Me laid,
To make the World Me publikely to know,
Were such, in judgement rightly being wai'd,
Seemed too great for Me to undergoe,
Nor could His Hand from powring on be stai'd,
Untill I so abundantly did flow,
That looking downe whence lately I was clome,
Danger bad Feare, if further I should rome.

For first from Knighthood rising in degree,
The Office of the Jewell-house my lot,
After, the Rolles he frankly gave to Me,
From whence a Privie Counseller I got,
Then of the Garter: and then Earle to be
Of Essex: yet sufficient these were not,
But to the great Vicegerencie I grew,
Being a Title as Supreme as new.

So well did Me these Dignities befit,
And Honour so Me every way became,
As more then Man, I had beene made for it,
Or as from Me it had deriv'd the Name:
Where was he found? whose love I not requit,
Beyond His owne imaginarie aime,
Which had Me succor'd neerely being driven,
As things to Me that idly were not given?

What Tongue so slow, the Tale shall not report
Of Hospitable F RISCOBALD and Mee,
And shew in how reciprocall a sort
My thankes did with his Courtesie agree,
When as my Meanes in Italy were short,
That Me reliev'd, I lesse that would not bee,
When I of England , was Vicegerent made,
His former Bounties lib'rally repaid?

The manner briefly gentler Muse relate,
Since oft before it wisely hath beene told,
The sudden change of unavoided Fate,
That famous Merchant reverend F RISCOBALD ,
Grew poore, and the small remnant of His State,
Was certaine Goods to England He had sold,
Which in the hands of Creditors but bad,
Small hope to get, yet lesser Meanes He had.

Hither His Wants Him forcibly constrain'd,
Though with long travell both by Land and Seas,
Led by this Hope, that only now remaind,
Whereon His Fortune finally He layes,
And if He found that Friendship here were fain'd,
Yet at the worst it better should Him please,
Farre out of sight, to perish here unknowne,
Then unreliev'd be pittied of His Owne.

It chanc'd as I tow'rd Westminster did ride,
'Mongst the great concourse passing to and fro,
An aged Man I happily espide,
Whose outward lookes much inward griefe did show,
Which made Me note Him, and the more I ey'd
Him, Me thought more precisely I should know:
Revolving long, it came into My minde,
This was the Man to Me had beene so kind.

Was there withall so joyed with His sight,
(With the deare sight of His so reverend Face)
That I could scarsly keepe Me from t'alight,
And in mine armes Him kindly to embrace;
Weighing yet (well) what some imagine might,
He being a Stranger, and the publike place,
Checkt my affection, till some fitter houre,
On Him my Love effectually might showre.

Never, quoth I, was Fortune so unjust,
As to doe wrong to thy most Noble Heart,
What Man so wicked could betray the trust
Of one so upright, of so good desert?
And though obey Necessitie thou must,
As when th' wast great'st, the same to Me thou art,
Let Me alone the last be left of all,
That from the rest declin'd not with thy Fall.

And calling to a Gentleman of mine,
Wise and discreet that well I knew to bee,
Shew'd Him that Stranger, whose dejected Eyne,
Fixt on the Earth, ne'r once lookt up at Mee,
Bid yonder Man come home to Me and dine
(Quoth I) bespeake Him reverently you see,
Scorne not His Habit, little canst thou tell,
How rich a Minde in those meane Rags doth dwell.

He with my Name that kindly did him greet,
Slowly cast up His deadly-mooving Eye,
That long time had beene fixed on His feet,
To looke no higher then His Miserie,
Thinking Him more Calamitie did greete,
Or that I had supposed Him some Spie,
With a deep sigh that from His heart He drew,
Quoth He, His Will accomplisht be by you.

My Man departed, and the Message done,
He whose sad Heart a strange Impression strooke,
To thinke upon this accident begunne,
And on Himselfe suspiciously to looke,
Into all doubts He fearfully doth runne,
Oft Himselfe cheering, oft himselfe forsooke:
Strangely perplext, He to my House doth come,
Not knowing why judg'd, nor dreading yet His doome.

My Servants set His comming to attend,
That were therein not common for their skill,
Whose usage yet the former did amend:
He hop'd not good, nor guiltie was of ill,
But as a Man whose thoughts were at an end,
Fortune (quoth He) then worke on Me thy will:
Wiser then Man I thinke He were that knew,
Whence this may come, or what will it ensue.

His Honour'd presence so did Me inflame,
That being then in presence of my Peeres,
I sdaigned not to meete Him as He came,
(That very hardly could containe my teares)
Kindly salute Him, call Him by His name,
And oft together aske Him how He cheeres;
Which still along maintaining the extreme,
The Man thought sure, He had beene in a Dreame.

At length to wake Him, gently I began
With this demand, If once He did not know
One T HOMAS C ROMWELL , a poore Englishman,
By Him reliev'd when He was driven low?
When I perceiv'd He my remembrance wan,
Yet with His teares it silently did show:
I wept for woe, to see mine Oast distrest:
But He for joy, to see His happie Ghest.

Him to the Lords I publisht by my praise,
And at my Table carefully Him set,
Recounting them the many sundrie wayes,
I was to this good Gentleman in debt,
How great He was in Florence in those dayes,
With all that Grace or Reverence Him might get:
Which all the while yet silently He heares,
Moisting, among, His Viands with His teares.

And to lend fulnesse lastly to His Fate,
Great Summes I gave Him, and what was His due,
Made knowne, my Selfe became His Advocate,
And at my Charge His Creditors I sue,
Recovering Him unto His former State:
Thus He the World began by Me anew,
That shall to all Posteritie expresse
His honour'd Bountie, and My Thankfulnesse.

But Muse recount, before thou further passe,
How this great change so quickly came about,
And what the cause of this sad downfall was,
In every part the spacious Realme throughout,
Being effected in so little space,
Leave not there of Posteritie to doubt,
That to the World obscured else may bee,
If in this place revealed not by Thee.

If the whole Land did on the Church relie,
Having full Power Kings to account to call,
That to the World red only Policie,
Besides Heavens Keyes to stop or let in all,
Let Me but know from Her Supremacie,
How She should come so suddenly to fall:
'Twas more then Chance sure put a hand thereto,
That had the power so great a thing to doe.

Or ought there were had biding under Sunne,
Who would have thought those Edifices great,
Which first Religion holily begunne,
The Church approv'd, and Wisdome richly seat,
Devotion nourish'd, Faith allowance wonne,
With what might make them any way compleat,
Should in their Ruines lastly buryed lye,
But that begunne and ended from the Skye?

And the King late obedient to Her Lawes,
Against the Clerke of Germanie had writ,
As He that first stirr'd in the Churches cause,
Against Him greatliest that oppugned it,
And wanne from Her so gratefull an applause,
Then in Her Favour chiefly that did sit,
That as the prop, whereon She only stay'th,
Him She instil'd D EFENDER O F T HE F AITH .

But not their Power, whose Wisdomes them did place,
In the first ranke, the Oracles of State,
Who that opinion strongly did imbrace,
Which through the Land received was of late,
Then ought at all prevailed in this Case;
O powerfull Doome of unavoyded Fate,
Whose depth not weake Mortalitie can know!
" Who can uphold what Heaven will overthrow?

When time now universally did show
The power to it peculiarly annex'd,
With most abundance then when She did flow,
Yet every houre still prosp'rously She wex'd,
But the World poore did by loose Riots grow,
Which served as an excellent pretext,
And colour gave to plucke Her from Her Pride,
Whose only Greatnesse suffred none beside.

Likewise to that, Posteritie did doubt,
Those at the first not rightly to adore,
Their Fathers that too credulous devout,
Had to the Church contributed their store,
And to recover only went about,
What their great Zeale had lavished before,
On Her a strong hand violently laid,
Preying on that, they gave for to be pray'd.

Besides, the King set in a course so right,
Which I for Him laboriously had tract,
(Who till I learn'd Him, had not knowne His Might)
I still to prompt His Power with Me to act,
Into those Secrets got so deepe a sight,
That nothing lastly to His Furth'rance lackt,
And by Example it to Him was showne,
How Rome might here be easly overthrowne.

In taking downe yet of this goodly Frame,
He suddenly not brake off every band,
But tooke the Power first from the Papall Name,
After awhile let the Religion stand,
When limbe by limbe He daily did it lame,
First, tooke a Legge, and after tooke a Hand,
Till the poore semblance of a Bodie left,
But all should stay it, utterly bereft.

For if some Abbey hapned void to fall,
By death of Him that the Superiour was,
Gaine, that did first Church-libertie enthrall,
Only Supreme, promoted to the Place,
'Mongst many bad, the worst most times of all,
Under the colour of some others Grace,
That by the Slander, which from Him should spring,
Into contempt it more and more might bring.

This time from Heaven when by a secret course,
Dissension universally began,
(Prevailing as a Planetarie sourse)
I'th' Church beleeving, as Mahumetan ,
When L UTHER first did those Opinions nurse,
Much from great Rome in little space that wan,
It to this change so aptly did dispose,
From whose sad Ruine, ours so great arose.

When here that fabrique utterly did faile,
Which powerfull Fate had limited to Time,
By whose strong Law it naturally must quaile,
From that proud height to which it long did clime,
Letting 'gainst it the contrary prevaile,
Therein to punish some notorious Crime,
For which at length just dooming Heaven decreed,
That on Her Buildings Ruine here should feed.

Th'authoritie upon Her Shee did take,
And use thereof in every little thing,
Finding Her selfe how oft She did forsake,
In Her owne bounds Her selfe not limiting,
That awfull feare and due Obedience brake,
Which Her reputed Holinesse did bring,
From slight regard and brought Her into Hate,
With those that much dislik'd of Her Estate.

Seeing those parts She cunningly had plaid,
Beliefe to Her great Miracles to winne,
To the wise World were every day bewrai'd,
From which the doubt did of Her power begin,
Damnation yet to question what She said,
Made most suspect the Faith they had beene in,
When their Salvation easly might be bought,
Found not this yet the way that they had sought.

When those ill humours rip'ned to a head,
Bred by the ranknesse of the plentious Land,
And they not only strangely from her fled,
Bound for her ancient Libertie to stand,
But what their Fathers gave her being dead,
The Sonnes rap'd from her with a violent Hand,
And those her Buildings most of all abus'd,
That with the waight their Fathers Coffins brus'd.

The wisest and most provident but build,
For time againe but onely to destroy,
The costly Pyles and Monuments we gild,
Succeeding Time shall reckon but a toy,
Vicissitude impartially will'd,
The goodlyest things be subject to annoy,
And what one Age did studiously maintayne,
The next againe accounteth vile and vaine.

Yet Time doth tell, in some things they did erre,
That put their helpe her braverie to deface,
When as the Wealth, that taken was from her,
Others soone raysed, that did them displace,
Their Titles and their Offices confer
On such before, as were obscure and base,
Who would with her, they likewise downe should goe,
And o'rthrew them that her did overthrow.

And th' Romish Rites that with a cleerer sight
The wisest thought they justly did reject,
They after saw, that the received Light
Not altogether free was from defect,
Mysterious things being not conceived right,
Thereof bred in the ignorant neglect,
For, in opinion something short doth fall,
Wants there have beene, and shall be still in all.

But negligent Securitie and Ease
Unbridled Sensualitie begat,
That only sought his appetite to please,
As it in midst of much abundance sat,
The Church not willing others should her praise,
That shee was leane, when as her Lands were fat,
Her selfe to too much libertie did give,
Which some perceiv'd that in those times did live.

P IERCE the wise Plowman, in his vision saw
Conscience sore hurt, yet sorer was afraid
The seven great Sinnes to Hell him like to draw,
And to wise Clergie mainly cry'd for aide;
Falne ere he wist (whom perill much did awe)
On uncleane Priests whil'st faintly he him staid,
Willing good Clergie t'ease his wretched case,
Whom these strong Gyants hotly had in chase.

Clergie call'd Fryers, which neere at hand did dwell,
And them requests to take in hand the cure,
But for their Leechcraft that they could not well,
He listed not their dressing to endure,
When in his eare Need softly him did tell
(And of his knowledge more did him assure)
They came for gayne, their end which they did make,
For which on them the charge of Soules they take.

And voluntarie Povertie profest,
By food of Angels seeming as to live;
But yet with them th'accounted were the best,
That most to their Fraternitie did give,
And beyond number that they were increast:
If so (quoth Conscience) thee may I beleeve,
Then 'tis in vaine more on them to bestow,
If beyond number like they be to grow.

The Frier soone feeling Conscience had him found,
And hearing how Hypocrisie did thrive,
That many Teachers every-where did wound,
For which Contrition miserably did grieve:
Now in deceit to shew himselfe profound,
His former hopes yet lastly to revive,
Gets the Popes Letters, whereof he doth shape
Him a disguise, from Conscience to escape.

And so towards goodly Unitie he goes,
A strong-built Castle standing very hie,
Where Conscience liv'd, to keepe him from his Foes,
Whom, lest some watchfull Centinell should spie,
And him should to the Garrison disclose,
His Cowle about him carefully doth tie,
Creepes to the Gate, and closely thereat beat,
As one that entrance gladly would intreat.

Peace, the good Porter, readie still at hand
It doth un-pin, and prayes him God to save,
And after salving kindly doth demand
What was his will, or who he there would have?
The Frier low lowting, crossing with his Hand,
I'speake with Contrition (quoth he) I would crave.
Father (quoth Peace) your comming is in vaine,
For, him of late, Hypocrisie hath slaine.

God shield (quoth he) and turning up the eyes,
To former health I hope him to restore,
For in my skill his sound recoverie lyes,
Doubt not thereof if setting God before.
Are you a Surgeon, Peace againe replyes?
Yea (quoth the Frier) and sent to heale his sore:
Come neere (quoth Peace) and God your comming speed,
Never of helpe Contrition had more need.

And for more haste he haleth in the Frier,
And his Lord Conscience quickly of him told,
Who entertayn'd him with right friendly cheere:
O Sir (quoth he) intreat you that I could
To lend your hand unto my deare Cousin here,
Contrition, whom a sore disease doth hold,
That wounded by Hypocrisie of late,
Now lyeth in most desperate estate.

Sir (quoth the Frier) I hope him soone to cure,
Which to your comfort quickly you shall see,
Will he awhile my dressing but endure;
And to Contrition therewith commeth hee,
And by faire speech himselfe of him assure,
But first of all going thorow for his Fee:
Which done (quoth he) if outwardly you show
Sound, 't not availes if inwardly or no.

But secretly assoyling of his sin,
No other med'cine will he to him lay,
Saying that Heaven his silver him should win,
And to give Friers, was better then to pray,
So he were shriev'd, what need he care a pin?
Thus with his Patient he so long did play,
Untill Contrition had forgot to weepe:
This the wise Plowman shew'd me from his sleepe.

He saw their faults that loosely lived then,
Others againe our weaknesses shall see:
For this is sure he bideth not with men,
That shall know all to be, what they should bee:
Yet let the faithfull and industrious Pen
Have the due Merit; but returne to mee,
Whose fall this while blinde Fortune did devise,
To be as strange as strangely I did rise.

Those secret Foes yet subt'ly to deceive,
That me maligning, lifted at my State,
The King to marry forward still I heave,
(His former Wife being repudiate)
With A NNE , the Sister of the Duke of Cleave ,
The German Princes to confederate,
To backe me still 'gainst those against me lay,
Which as their owne retayn'd me here in pay.

Which my destruction principally wrought,
When afterward abandoning her bed,
Which to his will to passe could not be brought,
So long as yet I bare about my head,
The only Man her safetie that had sought,
Of her againe and only favoured,
Which was the cause he hasted to my end,
Upon whose fall Hers likewise did depend.

For in his high distemp'rature of blood,
Who was so Great, whose Life he did regard?
Or what was it that his desires withstood,
He not invested, were it ne'r so hard?
Nor held he me so absolutely good,
That though I crost him, I could not be spar'd,
But with those things I lastly was to goe,
Which he to ground did violently throw.

When W INCHESTER , with all those Enemies,
Whom my much power from Audience had debarr'd,
The longer time their mischiefes to devise,
Feeling with me how lastly now it far'd,
When I had done the King what did suffice,
Lastly thrust in against me to be heard,
When what was ill, contrarily turn'd good,
Making amayne to th'sheading of my blood.

And that the King his action doth deny,
And on my guilt doth altogether lay,
Having his Ryot satisfied thereby,
Seemes not to know how I therein did sway,
What late was Truth, now turn'd to Heresie:
When he by me had purchased his prey,
Himselfe to cleere, and satisfie the sin,
Leaves me but late his instrument therein.

Those Lawes I made my selfe alone to please,
To give me power more freely to my Will,
Even to my Equals hurtfull sundrie wayes,
(Forced to things that most doe say were ill)
Upon me now as violently seyze,
By which I lastly perisht by my Skill,
On mine owne Necke returning (as my due)
That heavie Yoke wherein by me they drew.

My Greatnesse threatned by ill-boding eyes,
My actions strangely censured of all,
Yet in my way, my giddinesse not sees
The Pit wherein I likely was to fall:
O were the sweets of mans felicities
Often amongst not temp'red with some Gall!
He would forget by his o'rweening skill,
Just Heaven above doth censure good and ill.

Things over ranke, doe never kindly beare,
As in the Corne, the Fluxure when we see
Fills but the Straw, when it should feede the Eare,
Rotting that time, in ripening it should bee,
And being once downe, it selfe can never reare:
With us well doth this Simile agree,
(By the Wise man) due to the Great in all,
By their owne weight being broken in their fall.

Selfe-loving Man what sooner doth abuse,
And more then his prosperitie doth wound?
Into the deepe but fall, how can he chuse
That over-strides whereon his foote to ground?
Who sparingly prosperitie doth use,
And to himselfe doth after-ill propound,
Unto his height who happily doth clime,
Sits above Fortune, and controlleth Time.

Not choosing what us most delight doth bring,
And most that by the generall breath is freed,
Wooing that Suffrage, but the vertuous Thing,
Which in it selfe is excellent indeed,
Of which the depth and perfect managing
Amongst the most, but few there be that heed,
Affecting that agreeing with their blood,
Seldome enduring, and as seldome good.

But whil'st we strive too suddenly to rise
By flatt'ring Princes with a servill tong,
And being Soothers to their tyrannies,
Worke our much woes by what doth many wrong,
And unto others tending injuries,
Unto our selves it hapning oft among.
In our owne Snares unluckily are caught,
Whil'st our attempts fall instantly to naught.

The Councell Chamber place of my Arrest,
Where chiefe I was, when greatest was the store,
And had my speeches noted of the best,
That did them as high Oracles adore:
A Parliament was lastly my Enquest,
That was my selfe a Parliament before,
The Towre-Hill Scaffold last I did ascend:
Thus the great'st Man of England made his end.