John Soowthern’s Pandora

Introduction: Who Was John Soothern?
New Facts Relating to the Identification of the Mysterious Author of Pandora, 1584

What was in the 1584 Pandora, dedicated to Oxford?

Below is Ron Hess’ transcription, translation, and notes of the 1584 Pandora attributed to “John Soowthern Gentleman.” Emphases from original but with slight modernizations of such things as “f” = “s,” backwards “F” = “I,” “v” = “u” (& vice versa), etc.; also inserted bold stanza #s, “/” = line endings, “//” = stanza endings, & “[End Pg. abc] ///” = page endings).


[Begin Title Page] PANDORA, / The Musyque of the / beautie, of his Mistresse / Diana . / Composed by John Soowthern / Gentleman, and dedicated to the right / Honorable , Edward Deuer, Earle / of Oxenford, & c. 1584. / June, 20. / Non careo patria , Me caret Illa magis. [By no means to absent from my native land, To me more dearly That way] / [Figure: Coin with right profile of a bust of a bearded man wearing a laurel wreath & the top part of a tunic] Imprinted at London for Thomas / Hackette , and are to be solde at his shoppe / in Lumbert streete , under the Popes / head. 1584 [End Title Page] ///


[Begin Pg. 1] To the ryght honou- / rable the Earle of Oxenford. & c. / Ode. I. Strophe.I. /

1.THis earth, is the nourishing teate, / As well that delivers to eate : / As els throwes out all that we can / Devise, that should be n[e]adefull fore / The health, of o[u]r disease or sore, / The houshold companions of man. / And this earth, hath hearbes [herbs] soveraine, / To empeach sicknesses sodaine [sudden], If they be well aptlie applide. / And this yearth, spues up many a brevage,/ Of which if we knew well the d[o]sage: / Would force the force Acherontide. / Breefe, it lendes us all that we have, / With to live: and it is our grave . / But with all this, yet cannot give, / Us fayre renownes, when we be dead. / and in deede they are onelie made, / By our owne vertues whiles we live. // Antistrophe. / 2. And Marbles (all be they so strong,) / Cannot maintaine our renownes long: / And neither they be but abuses, / To thinke that other thinges have puissaunce, / To make for time any resistaunce, / Save onelie the well singing Muses. / And the fayre Muses that provide, / For the wise, an immortall name: / [Printer’s Mark of “A ii.”] / [End Pg. 1] ///


[Begin Pg. 2] Doo never garnishe any head. / With Lawrell, by hearesay of Fame. / Nor everie one that can rime, / Must not thinke to triumph on time. / Nor they give not their Divine furie, / To everie doting troupe that comes. / For the touch of ev’rie ones thommes [tombs], / Is not of an eternall burie. // Epode. / 3. No, no, the finger is his / Alone : that in the ende must bee / Made proude, with a garland lyke this, / and not ev’rie ryming novice, / That writes with small wit, and much paine: / And the (Gods knowe) idiot in vaine, / For it’s not the way to Parnasse,/ Nor it wyll neither come to passe, / If it be not in some wise fiction, / And of an ingenious invension : / And infanted with pleasant travaill, / For it alone must win the Laurell. / and onelie the Poet well borne, / Must be he that goes to Parnassus : / And not these companies of Asses, / That have brought verce almost to scorne. // Strophe. 2 / 4. Making speake (her with a sweete brute) / The ten divers tongues of my Lute, / I will Fredone in thy honour, / These renowned songs of Pindar: / And immitate for thee ‘Dever, / Horace, that brave Latine Harper. [End Pg. 2] ///

[Begin Pg. 3, Continue Stanza # 4] And stand up Nymphes Aganapide, / Stand up my wantons Parnasside [Muses of Mt. Parnassus], / Stand up wantons and that we sing, / A newe dittie Calaborois, / To the Iban harpe Thebanois [of Thebes in both Greece & Egypt], / That had such a murmuring string. / For I will shewt [show it], heere with my verces, / (Following the auncient traces) / As high up to the ayre this Hymne, / (With a strong bowe and armes, presumptous) / As Dever is both wise and vertuous, / And as of my Harpe, he is digne [dignified]. // Antistrophe. / 5.Muses, you have had of your father, / Onelie, the particuler faver, / To keepe fro the reeve enfernall:/ And therefore my wantons come sing, / Upon your most best speaking string, / His name that dooth cheerishe you all . / Come Nimphes while I have a desire, / To strike on a well sounding Lyre, / Of our vertues Dever the name . / Dever, that had given him in parte : / The Love, the Warre, Honour, and Arte, / And with them an eternall Fame . / Come Nimphes, your puissaunce is divine : / And to those that you shew no favour, / Quicklie they are deprivde [deprived] of honour, / And slaves to the chaines Cossitine.// Epode, / 6. Amongst our well renowned men, / Dever merits a sylver pen, / [Printer’s Mark of “A.y.”] / [End Pg. 3] ///


[Begin Pg. 4, Continue Stanza # 6] Eternally to write his honour, / And I in a well polisht verse, / Can set up in our Universe, / A Fame, to endure for ever. / And fylde with a Furiae extreme, / Upon a well superbus ryme : / (On a ryme, and both strong and true) / I wyll (Dever) pushe thy lovanges, / To the eares of people estraunges [foreigners] : / And ravishe them with thy vertue. / But in trueth I use but to sing, / After the well intuned string, / Of eyther of the great Prophets, / Or Thebain, or Calaborois: / Of whether of whome yet the voice, / Hath not beene knowne to our Poets. // Strophe. / 7. But what shall I beginne to touch : / O Muses what have I begunne, / But speake wantons, what have I donne : / Take it of the charge is too much . / No, no, if I would there were made, / I could take an entyre Iliade, / Of onelie his noble antiquitie. / But his vertues would blushe with shame : / If I should not by his owne name, / Give him a laude to our posteritie . / But if I will thus like Pindar, / In many discourses Egar, / Before I wyll come to my point : / Or, or touch his infinitie / Of vertues, in this Poiesie, / Our song wyll never be conioint. [End Pg. 4] ///

[Begin Pg. 5] Antistrophe. / 8. For who marketh better then hee, / The seven turning flames of the Skie : / Or hath read more of the antique. / Hath greater knowledge in the toungues: / Or understandes sooner the sownes [signs?], / Of the learner to love Musique. / Or else who hath a fayrer grace, / In the Centauriane arte of Thrace,/ Halfe-horse, halfe-man, and with lesse paine, / Dooth bring the Coorsser, indomitable, / To yeeld to the raynes of his bridle: / Vaulting, on the edge of a plaine . / And it pleases me to say too, / (With a lovange, I protest true) / That in England we cannot see, / Any thing lyke Dever, but hee. / Onelie himselfe he must resemble, / Vertues so much in him assemble . // Epode. / 9. And nought escapes out of my hand, / In this Ode, but it’s veritae : / And heere I sweare Dever tis thee, / That art ornament of England. / Vaunting me againe of this thing : / Which is, that I shall never sing, / A man so much honoured as thee, / And both of the Muses and mee . / And when I gette the spoyle of Thebes, / Having charged it on my shoulders. / In verses exempts fro the webbes, / Of the ruinous Filandinge systers: / [No Printer’s Mark] / [End Pg. 5] ///


[Begin Pg. 6, Continue Stanza # 9] I promise to builde thee a glorie, / That shall ever live in memorie . / [a skipped line] / In means while, take this lyttle thing : / But as small as it is : Devere. / Taunt us that never man before, / Now in England, knewe Pindars string. // [a skipped line] / Non careo patria , Me caret Illa margis. //

Sonnet to the Reader. /

10.THou find’st not heere, neither the furious alarmes, / Of the pride of Spaine, or subtilnes of France: / Nor of the rude English, or mutine Almanes [Germans] : / Nor neither of Naples, noble men of armes. / No, an Infant, and that yet surmounteth Knights : / Hath both vanquished me, and also my Muse. / And vvere it not: this is a lawfull excuse. / If thou hearst not the report, of their great fights, / Thou shalt see no death of any valliant soldier, / And yet i sing the beauty of a fierce warrier. / And amore alone I must strike on my Leer [cavalier’s emblem], / And but Eroto [Eros = Cupid] I knowe no other Muse. / And harke all you that are lyke us amourous. / And you that are not, goe read some other where. // Sonnets. 1. To his Mystresse Diana. / 11.TIs fyrst to you Dian, that I have togethers, / Given me aud my voice, making you the Idoll : / To which I offer both the body and soule, / Of these teares of my eyes, that fall heere like rivers. [End Pg. 6] ///

[Begin Pg. 7, Continue Stanza # 11] But in some thinges fabelous, you must be content / To see what it is, of us Lovers the flame, / And reade you must under a Goddesses name, / Of your beates the delycate ornament. / And where as these which are to apayse [appease] your cruelties: / Shall not proscribe well, your excellent rareties. / Excuse mee Nymphe, as you would have in some asite, / Of heaven your fayre semblance : for I doo not meane, / To sing you now : but Dian, when you have bene, / More gratious unto mee : I well sing you better. // Sonnet. 2. / 12.THe Greeke Poet to whome Bathill was the guide, / Made her immortall, by that which he did sing : / And (were it so I knowe not but) of Corine, / We faine the patrone of the Latine Ovide, / And since them (Petrarque) a wise Flourentine, / Hath turnde his Mistres into a tree of Baye. / And he that soong the eldest daughter of Troye, / In Fraunce hath made of her, an astre Divine. / And lyke these knowne men, can your Soothern, write too : / And as long as Englishe lasts, immortall you . / I the penne of Soothern will my fayre Diana, / Make thee immortall : if thou wilt give him favour : / For then hee’ll sing Petrark, Tien, Ovide, Ronsar : / And make thee Cassander, Corine, Bathyll, Laura. // Sonnet. 3. / 13.THat death that despises at all kinde of beautie, / And would make all love, goe into Charons passage : / Would have hit the eyes, wherin I live in servage : / The eyes both to fayre, and too full of crueltie . / But Cupid that styll in those eyes was indompted [indentured?] : / The infant knew well, where after this death sought : / And began to crie (death) if thou ende thy thought, / We shall neither of us, be againe redoubted . / But (death) if thout let me live in these eyes styll : / Thou shalt see ( O then ) how nobelly I wyll. / [Printer’s Mark of “B.1”] / [End Pg. 7] ///


[Begin Pg. 8, Continue Stanza # 13] Hopst thy honour ? for I have not halfe thy might, / And yet in these eyes, I conquer all the world: / Death hearing this, let him live styll in the syght: / Fro whence he shewteth such sharpe arrowes of gold. // Sonnet. 4. / 14.WHen nature made my Diana, that before / All other Nymphes: showld force the heartes rebellant: / She gave her the masse, of beauties excellent, / That she keepe since long, in her coffers in store. And at her framing, Paphae came fro the skies. / With the sweetnes, and graces, of Eryceene:/ And swore that it should make her so fayre a Queene, / Of Beautie: that the Gods should dwell in her eyes. / But she hardlie was come to us, fro above: / Though ? but my soule was inflamed with her love. / And I serve her in spite of the troupe Celest. / For tell mee ? why did not they lykewise ordaine: That in reward of my love, she shewd againe, / Esteeme me onely, and onely, love me best. // Sonnet. 5. / 15.OF stars, and of forrests, Dian, is the honor: / And to the seas, to the Goddesse, to the guide: / And she hath Luna, Charon, and Eumenide:/ To make brightnes, to give death, and to cause horror. / And my warrier, my light, shines in the fayre eyes: / My dread is of thee, th[in]e to[o] great excellence: / Thy wordes kyll mee: and thus thou hast the puissaunce,/ Of her that rules the flodes, and lyghtnes the skies. / And as sylver Pheb, is the aster, most clare: / So is thy beauty the beauty, the most rare. / Wherefore I call thee Dian, for thy beautee, / For thy wisedome, and for thy puissaunce Celest[ial]. / And yet thou must be but a Goddesse terest[ial]: / And onely because of thy great cruelte. [End Pg. 8] ///

[Begin Pg. 9] Sonnet. 6. / 16.OF Pyladeus, and of Oresteus, we have / made many disputes, in the temple of death: / And in the Church of Troy, we proove Choreb’s faith, / Who made for Cassander, his harnes, his grave. / And there is one, on the mountaine Caucasein, / With an Eagle, on his heart Philosiphall. / And there is a stone of a mad Cisyphall, / Leaft alwayes behind him, and caried in vaine. / These temples, and this rocke, is in my object: / The church is my soule, the flint is my subject. / My verses are the labours of Sisypheus: / And for willing shew your fayre beauties, its vaine. / Of Promet[heus], for not canning. I have the paine: / Th’ Eagle’s crue[l]ti, and (Nymphe) you are rigrous. / Sonnet. 7. / 17.I Am not (my cruell warrier) the Thebain, / That my infancie, should be strangled with Serpents:/ Nor neither did my nurse give thee any torments: / nor I suckt neither Uropae, nor Elthain. / I came not (my warrier) of the blood Lidain: / Nor neyther am I of the race, of Ixion: / Nor Jove, neither bare my mother, affection: / Nor I am no infant Egier, nor Danain. / Nor I am neither the nephew of Atlas, / That made the earth dronke, with the blood of Arguss:/ But yet I know wherefore I have all my wounds. / I am none of these which I have sayd (Dian) / But I am that verie miserable man, / Who for regarding thee, was eaten of Houndes.// Elegia. I. To the Echon. / O Dolefull voice, that doost aunswer, / The weepings of my care: / And that heere in these mozic groves, / Hast pittie on my dolance, / [Printer’s Mark of “B.y.”] / [End Pg. 9] ///


[Begin Pg. 10, Continue Stanza # 18] And that of whome the emptie mouth, / (At least) dooth make a semblaunce, / To feele my wounds that proceede of / Two eyes, to greene, and fayre. / O speake since thou canst not live ex- / cept I shall give the breathe: / And since my greevous voice, is one- / lie the nurce of thy [es]steme: / I crying Dian, why makest thou / Dye John, aunswer agen: / Wouldst thou I lov’de no more, / Or doost thou Prophesie my death. / O noble Nymph tell mee, or doost / Thou now inflame againe, / With the antiqueus amor, that / Thou lovedst so in vaine. / Or is it that remembring my / Love, I should pittie thine. / For the like dolor that thou hadst, / Even the like doo I suffer: / And the like amore that thou hadst, / Even the like doo I suffer: / And the like amore that thou hadst, / The like to mee dooth offer: / Save that thy love was not so fayre,/ Nor so cruelly as mine. // Elegia. 2. To the Gods. / 19.WHen the eye of the world dooth washe, / his golden shining heaire, / In the large Occean seas: and that / They have coverd the lyght: / Amurmuring repose, and a / Restfull and sleepy night, / Is spreded both over the earth, / The waters and the ayre. [End Pg. 10] ///

[Begin Pg. 11, Continue Stanza # 19] But I chaunge nature then ? For than, / Doth my brightest Aurôr[a],/ In a sweete dreame present her selfe, / O dreame, no dreame: but well, / The Ambrozie, the Nectar, and / The Manna, Eternell./ And to be breefe, a vision that / I lyke a God adore. / Wherefore farewell, day of nights, and / Welcome night waking daye: / And farewell waking, of my sleepe, / Welcome sleepe, lyving joye. / But what say I, my wealth is false, / And my evill verita-ble: / And I plaine of them both, for I / Have in neither delight: / Except ye Gods will short[en] these dayes, / And eternishe this night: / And that God will doo it, shall / be a God charita-ble. // Elegia. 3. To his Diana. / 20.IF the secretnesse of my thoughtes, / Were opened to you, / Or if else my dolorous heart, / Had of speaking the usage: / Or (warrier) if my constancie, / Were painted in my visage: / Or that if ye knewe my torment, / How it is great and true. / Or, or if any golden wordes, / In well compased verse, / Could livelelie shewe the picture, / Of an amourous rage: / [Printer’s Mark of “B.iy.”] / [End Pg. 11] ///


[Begin Pg. 12, Continue Stanza # 20] Then should I without doubt amo- / lishe a Tigers courage. / And move to pittie (warrier) if / it were the univerce. / But since wordes, neither can prescribe / My amore, nor my paine: / Tyme shall it selfe, witnesse how much / Both are in me certaine: / And that of my passioned soule, / The Divine great loyalties: / Doo the sacrednesse of all o- / thers, I of the Gods passe: / And more then the sylver maje- / sties, of your Christall face, / Underneath, tother Phebes, doo / Excell all other Beutaes. // Sonnet.8. / 21.THough I wish to have your favour, which is such, / That it is but for Gods, thinke you my Audâce, / Like his that in your steede, dyd a clowde imbrace: / Or his that was a harte, by seeing so much. / Or would you else because of my hautaine though, / That I might augment the Sepulchres of Thraces / Or that I were as the giant Briarâs:/ Or paide lyke the wagoner so evelie taught. / No ? lybertie, Rome, thy wrath the seas (Dian) / Greese, Pirats ? thy merie Must save Ariôn./ Or if thou wylt none of these aforesayde thinges: / Because thou sayst that my mindes are set so high. / If thou thinkst I beginne lyke Icâr[us] to flie: / Since th’ eyes are my sonne, let thy love by my winges. // Sonnets. 9. / 22.IT is after our deathes, a thing mani-fest,/ We bothe goe to hell, and suffer hellishe paines: / [End Pg. 12] ///

[Begin Pg. 13, Continue Stanza # 22] you, for your rigour, I, for my thoughts hauitainess, / That attempt to love a Goddesse so Celest./ But as for mee I shall be lyttle afflicted. / Tis you (my warrier) that must have the torment: / For I that but, in seeing you am content: / you, with mee, I’ll blesse the place so much detested. / And my soule that is rav[ish]ed with your fayre eyes, / In the midst of hell, wyll establishe, a skeyes: / Making my bright day, in the eternall night. / And when all the damned else are in annoy: / I’ll smyle in that glorie, seeing you my joy: / and being once there, goe not out of our sight. // Sonnet. 10. / 23.THe heavens willing shew favour among our paines. / And to make both runne, of my weeping the streame: / And also eternall, your rigor extreame: / turnd your heart, to rocke, and my eyes to fountaynes: / And Cupid dooth bathe him in my sylver ryvers: / And being come out, of the flodes, of my yll: / He flies to your rocke, where as upon a hyll, / The lyttle wanton, dooth prime, and rowse his feathers. / But when thy winter comes, and that thou art olde, / Felling thy rocke-h[e]art, under his tallons colde: / Hee’ll byd thee adiew with an eternall farewell. / And then thou hast fayre to say Love is a rage: / Dide folke say so, cause Cupid dooth abhorre age: / But were they lov’de then, I doubt th[ey]’c[oul]d not be cruel!. / Elegia. 4. To the pri- / soners. / 24.CUpid hath swelde my stomack, with / On such a sacred poyson, / and I am in Queene Venus fet- /ters, so well entertained: / [No Printer’s Mark] / [End Pg. 13] ///


[Begin Pg. 14, Continue Stanza # 24] That lyke a captive, languishing, / And with dolour, tormented, / I thinke my selfe well happy, to / Be in a Womans prison. / Now ? As for you wretches that no- / thing, but yrons can punishe, / If you lyst[en] you may have a hope, / to be at lyber-tie: / But as for mee ? I tell you, I’ll / die in captivi-tie: / Consuming beere in the quick-sil- / ver-fayre-eyes of my Goddesse, / And well I am contented in- / deede, with her extreeme rigore. / Swearing, that I never fell in / My soule so great a dolore, / As when I thinke for her likewise, / Some other should have passion. / And with all this too, yet I have / Neither lost all my judgement: / For we saye that man is happy, / onelie, that is well content, / And I tell you, (you wretches) it / is all my contentation. // Elegia. 5. To his thoughts. / 25.MY thoughts, so full of thought, to thought- / full thoughts give now ? Repose, / Both to my dolefull soule, and to / my hope that is in vaine: / For well though my teares drop, fro[m] my / eyes like a swift fountaine ? / [End Pg. 14] ///

[Begin Pg. 15, Continue Stanza # 25] Murmuring my Alas: she hearke- / neth not to my propose. / My thoughts, too full of thought, and too / Farre engrav’n in my heart. / My thoughts too full of thought, that give / mee over to my dolore: / My thoughts too thoughtfull, if you pro- / pose yet any more langore: / My thought full of thoughts, (O Gods) doo ad- / vaunce therewithall my mort[ality]. / And Opin[ ]astres thoughts the cau- / sers of my extreeme paines. / And thoughts that boyle this sulfer hu- / mor in my drooping vaines. / Speake thoughtfull thoughts, why feede you me / With this Abist esperaunce,/ when possessing the joye, of which / I have had such desyres: / And for Idolling the fayre eyes, / In which are my plasyres: / In the end thoughtes, for reward thought / Dooth breede me a repentaunce. // Elegia. 6. To his Diana. / 26.MY hope dooth tell mee, that after / This great rigour, of you: / I shall with sacred guerdons, / Be recom-pensed for wrong: / Shewing mee that I merite it, / Being patience so long. / But this imagind hope, (my cru- / ell warrier) is is true, / My hope dooth tell mee too (Diana) / That your Divine beau-tie, / [Printer’s Mark of “C.1.”] / [End Pg. 15] ///


[Begin Pg. 16, Continue Stanza # 26] Cannot be accompanied with / Such crueltie as thine. / But what is’t (my angrie warrier) / That yeeldes this plagne of mine: / Fortune ? or the origens of / The cause of cru-eltie. / My hope dooth tell mee too (my war- / rier) that my dolefull langore: / Will in a passient ende, amo- / lishe your extreeme great rigore: / The which all if it can, when your / Mothers gone we shall trie, / But if it cannot doo it then, / But would yet feede mee styll, / With presses of time: I’ll give ov’r: / And ev’r after I will, / Esteeme our Fortune, too much lowe, / For a hope set so high. // Sonnet. 11. [the Gothic type of Stanzas 27 to 29 (called in the text Sonnets 11 to 13) were in smaller size, with consequently more characters per line] / 27.HE that was the first, that put these lyttle winges, / On the back of amore, that high God immortell: / He might better have had employed his pensell, / To paint hopping butter-flyes, or Genny wrens. / But if in place of them, the doting foole had / Painted his fierce bowe, and his rigorous shaftes : / Then had he beene apt to have painted a God. / And you that paint next, you must use other colore: / Wherewith you may better shew his divine rigore: / And for his bowe, give him a great harquebous. / Or beleeve you not, goe and looke on Dian, / And having seene her fayre eyes, I esteeme then, / You’ll give him some thing more then it rigorous. // [End Pg. 16] ///

[Begin Pg. 17] Sonnet. 12. / 28.AEn Las, Orph Lus, Cephall, and Demophôn: / Of Pocris, of Eurydice, Phyllis, and Creuse: / Have made complaintes, as they have beene amorous, / Saying, theyr mistresses, did doo them all wrong. / Though they themselves to theyr loves, did all amisse. / For one gave Phyllis, a poore mournefull se-quell, / And th’other, lest Procris, in the hall’s of hell, / And with t’others fault, di-ed Euridice. / Aen Las, the last was thought to have least fault. / Though the presumpsion is yet great for all that. / But (Dian) you knoe (Dian) your amourous, / Hath not learned lyke any of them Prot L. / Though you are Demoph, Cephall, Orpheus, Aen L: / And he be Eurid, Phyllis, Procris, and Creuse. // Sonnets. 13. / 29.HE that wyll be subject to Cupidos call, / Is chaungd everie day, I doo not knoe how. / And of this, I my selfe have made prooves enowe. / As Metamorphosd, but wot not wherewithall, / Fyrst ? I was turned to a wandering Harte, / And sawe my stomacke pierst with a dolefull arrow. / Next ? Into a Swan, and with a note of sorrowe. / I foresong my death, in Elegicall arte. / Since that, to a Flowre, and since with[e]red away: / Since that, to a Fountaine, and since, I am drie: / And now that Salamander, live in my flame. / But ye Gods, if ever I have my owne choyce, / I wyll be turn’d, into a well singing voyce: / And there in lovange, the fayre eyes of Ma-dame. // Ode. 2. to his Diana. Strophe / [Note return to larger Gothic type and shorter lines] 30.AS the little Melisset flyes, / (Wanton enfantines of the Skyes) / [Printer’s Mark of “C.y.”] / [End Pg. 17] ///


[Begin Pg. 18, Continue Stanza # 30] With their théevishe pretie tongettes, / Take the best of the fayrest blomes, / Masoning it on their thyettes,/ And therewith build their honny commes. / Evenso with a sprite [= spirit] vigelant, / I robbe héere, the most excellant / Blossomes: in the garden Theb Lin. / And will that through the univerce, / The honny destyld in my verce: / Beare out these fayre gréene eies of thine. / And I will that our England sée, / By this Nectar, that I let fall / On thee to annoint thee with all, / What kinde of beauties are in thée. // Antistrophe / 31. All the superbus frontispisses, / and all the threatning ediffices, / And all the high buildinges are lost, / Of Corinthia, in pride extréeme. / But that which their Poets did bost, / will ever triumph over tyme. / I I[f] golde is Eli[zabe]ths Palase: / And golde is the Church of Parnasse: / And those that can enter therein, / Happy are they, and ever shall / Treade on the blacke roofe enfernall, / Living with the enfant Troyen, / That sylles the Nectar Olympien, / Into-the great coope of the God, / That thondred the menacing head, / Of the high Orgulus Phlegren. / [End Pg. 18] ///

[Begin Pg. 19, Continue Stanza # 31] What, what, my too cruell Diana, / A number have excelde in Beautae: / And yet it is onelie Hellina, / That lyves: and where in save in Poisae. // Epode. / 32. But thou for whome I writ so well: / And that I wyll make eternell. / And thou for whome my holie paines, / Dooth chase ignoraunce held so long: / Conjoyning in a vulgar song: / The secrets, both Greekes, and Lataines. / Think’st thou it is nothing, to have / The penne of Soothern for thy trompet. / Yes, yes, to whome Soothern is Poëte, / The honour goes not to the grave. / And Juno, it’s an other thing, / To heare a well learned voice sing, / Or to see workes of a wise hand: / Then it’s to heare our doting rimors, / Whose labours doo bring both dishonors, / To themselves, and to our England. / FINIS. / [Colophon Bar of Cala Lilies] / [Printer’s Mark of an oversized “C.iii.“] / [End Pg. 19] ///

[For the next 4 1/2 pages of the text we use a less compressed format]

[Many notes are from Prof. Ellen Moody’s 1989 article as indicated]


[Begin Pg. 20]

[Grape leaf symbol] Foure Epytaphes, / made by the Countes of Oxenford / after the death of her young Sonne, / the Lord Bulbecke, & c. /

33.HAd with moorning the Gods, left their willes undon, / They had not so soone [in]herited such a soule: / Or if the mouth, tyme dyd not glotton by all. / Nor I, nor the world, were depriv’d of my Sonne, / Whose brest Venus, with a face dolefull and milde, / Dooth washe with golden teares, inveying the skies: / And when the water of the Goddesses eyes, / Makes almost alive, the Marble, of my Childe: / One byds her leane styll, he dollor so extreme, / Telling her it is not, her young sonne Papherne, / To which she makes aunswer with a voice inflamed, / (Feeling there with her venime, to be more bitter) / As I was of Cupid, even so of it mother: / ,, And a womans last chylde, is the most beloved. //

An other. /

34.IN dolefull wayes I spend the wealth of my time: / Feeding on my heart, that ever comes agen. / Since the ordinaunce, of the Destin[y]‘s, hath ben, / To end of the Saissons [seasons], of my yeeres the prime. / With my Sone, my Gold, my Nightingale, and Rose, / Is gone: for t’was in him and no other where: / And well though mine eies run downe like fountaines (here, / The stone wil not speak yet, that doth it inclose. / And Destin[y]‘s, and Gods, you might rather have ta[k]nne, / My twentie yeeres: then the two daies of my sonne. [End Pg. 20] ///

[Begin Pg. 21, Continue Stanza # 34]

And of this world what shall I hope, since I knowe, / That in his respect, it can yeeld me but mosse: /Or what should I consume any more in woe, / When Destin[y]s, Gods, and worlds, are all in my losse. //

An other. /

35.THe hevens, death, and life ? have conjured my yll: / For death hath take away the breath of my sonne: / The hevens receve, and consent, that he hath donne: / And my life dooth keepe mee heere against my will. / But if our life be caus’de with moisture and heate. / I care neither for the death, the life, nor skyes: / For I’ll sigh him warmth, and weat him with my eies: / (And thus I shall be thought a second Promet[heus]) / And as for life, let it doo me all despite: / For if it leave me, I shall goe to my childe: / And it in the hevens, there is all my delyght. / and if I live, my vertue is immortall. / ,, So that the hevens, death and life, when they doo all / ,, Their force: by sorrowfull vertue th’are beguild. //

An other. /

36.IDall, for Adon[is], nev’r shed so many teares: / Nor Thet’[is], for Pelid: nor Phoebus, for Hyacinthus: / Nor for Atis, the mother of Prophetesses: / As for the death of Bulbecke, the Gods have cares. / At the brute of it, the Aphroditan Queene, / Caused more silver to distyll fro[m] her eyes: / Then when the droppes of her cheekes raysed Daisyes: / And to die with him, mortall, she would have beene. / The Chari[o]ts, for it breake their Peruqs, of golde: 1 / The Muses, and the Nymphes of Caves: I beholde: [No Printer’s Mark] / [End Pg. 21] ///


[Begin Pg. 22, Continue Stanza # 36]

All the Gods under Olympus are constraint, / On Laches, Clothon, and Atropos to plaine. / And yet beautie, for it booth make no complaint: / For it liv’de with him, and died with him againe. //

[A backwards “P”] Others of the fowre last lynes, / of other that she made also. /

37. 11 My Sonne is gone ? and with it , death end my sorrow, / 12 But death makes mee aunswere ? Madame, cease these (mones: / 13 My force is but on bodies of blood and bones: / 14 And that of yours, is no more now, but a shadow. //

Another. /

38. 11 Amphions wife was turned to a rocke. O / 12 How well I had beene, had I had such adventure, / 13 For then I might againe have beene the Sepulcure, / 14 Of him that I bare in mee, so long ago. /


[Colophon Bar of 6 rows of fairly regularly repeated oval symbols, similar to what is also at the bottom of Pg. 29] / [End Pg. 22] ///

[Begin Pg. 23]

Epitaph, made by the / Queenes Maiestie, at the death / of the Princesse of Espinoye. /

39.WHen the warrier Phoebus, goth to make his round, / With a painefull course, to too ther Hemisphere: / A darke shadowe, a great horror, and a feare, / An I knoe not what clowdes inver[t] on the ground. / And even so for Pinoy, that fayre vertues Lady, / (Although Jupiter have in this Orizon, / Made a starre of her, by the Ariadnan crowne) / Morns, dolour, and greefe, accompany our body. / O Atropos, thou hast doone a worke per-verst. / And as a byrde that hath lost both young, and nest: / About the place where it was, makes many a tourne. / Even so dooth Cupid, that infaunt, God, of amore, / Flie about the tombe, where she lyes all in dolore, / Wleeping for her eies, wherein he made sojourne. /


[Poorly printed, hard to distinguish Colophon Bar of Lilies & foliage] /

[Grape leaf symbol] Verses taken out of his Stanses, /

Hymnes, and Elegias: all dedicated or sent / to his Mistres[ ]le Diana. /

40.IN which you ask’t my name (confesse Elegia. / your selfe, if’t be not so) / And whether I before, had e / [“Confession” of “e / ver”] ver beene in love or no. /

[Printer’s Mark of “D.i.”] / [End Pg. 23] ///


[Begin Pg. 24, Continue Stanza # 40]

My name, quoth I, is Soothern, and / [“Sooth” = truth = Vere] Madame, let that suffice: / That Soothern which will rayse the Eng- / lishe language to the Skies. / The wanton of the Muses, and / Whose well composed ryme, / Will live in despite of the hevens, / And Triumph over tyme. &c. //

41.Elegia. ,, But how farre are the wordes crontra- / ,, rie to the deedes of men. / The selfe same night I went where I / admyred you agen. / Your sylver Phebes eyes, and your / Well set and crisped heair: / Your Venus porte, and your counte- / naunce of the God of war: / Your Iban throte, your marble brow, / With your soft cheekes of Roses: / And your Stra[w]berie lyps, wherein / Your teeth of pearle reporses. / Breefe, I saw you (Dian) in whome / The Gods did all their best, / To see what they could doo, when they / Would frame a worke Celest. & etc. //

42.Elegia. ,, But how vaine and short are the de- / ,, lightes and plasires humaine. / ,, And of the solace of this world: / ,, What else dooth there remaine, / ,, Saving but repentaunce: and what / ,, Is it that beareth breath, / ,, But by the having life, it is / ,, Subjected unto death. & etc. //

[End Pg. 24] ///

[Begin Pg. 25]

43. ,, The more stronger the Castle is, Himm. / ,, And harder to be wonne, / ,, The more eternall honour hath, / ,, The man that can get it. / ,, And vertue never will give ov’r, / ,, Without a great conflict. & etc. //

44. ,, To judge a Humaine heart tis a Himm. / ,,Labyrinth, much unwide, / ,, Wherein we loose us, if we have / ,, Not experaunce for guide. & etc. //

45. ,, The woman nere so constaunt, or Elegia. / ,, the Castle nere so strong: / ,, If th’one will heare, and th’other speake, / ,, The doo not endure long. & etc. // [Backwards “P”] New kinde of verces devised by him: / and are a wofull kinde of meter, to / sing a love, or death in. /

46.LIke the dolefull birde languishing, / the which dooth sing, / Her fatall song in sweete accordes, / Betaking her selfe to her death, / wearie of breath: / On Meander her slorie borde[r]s. / And even so I, without hope that / it helpes me ought, / Bedew thy handes, heere with my teares: / For I perceive by thy rigore, / that-to my dolore: / The Gods themselves have stopt their eares. / Though speake Dian, what might thou meane, / by this extreame. / [Printer’s Mark of “D.y.”] /

[End Pg. 25] ///


[Begin Pg. 26, Continue Stanza # 46]

Crueltie, having such Divine / Fayre eyes: Doost thou thinke that when death, / hath tooke my breath: / That I will ende these cries of mine. / No, no, thou art deceit’d for then, / my sprite agen, / Shall followe thee fro[m] place to place, / Exclayming on thy crueltie, / voide of pittie. & etc. // FINIS. /

Ode. / 47.COme, come Simonid, and Anacreon, / Come and laye your money to mine: / And let us goe and finde out Corydon: / And be once dronke with new wine. / Boye: bring hyther the greatest glasse, / And fyll, though it runne tyll to morrowe. / Heere holde my Anacre-on quaffe, / When we are droonke, we have no sorrowe. / But first I would thy Bathyll were / Come with her Lute, that we might daunce. / And that our olde Ronsard of France, / With his Cassandra too were here. / And what sayst Simon’d shall we send, / For our Wenches, now at beginning: / Hâ, he that loves not Wine, and Women, / Will never make a holsome eude. /

[End Pg. 26] ///

[Begin Pg. 27] [Grape leaf symbol]

Odellet. / 48.DIan, if it might come to passe: / Or that I might have my desire: / I would to the Gods that I were, / Turned into thy looking Glasse. / Or to the pillowe of this bead: / Whereon thou layst thy daintie head. / Or to water, that I might wash thee: / Or to thy roabe, that thou mightst weare mee: / Or that hang here on thy teatine, / I would I were these pearles of thine. / Or my Dian, to tell thee true, / I would I could be but thy shew. // Odellet. /

49.SOme will sing the great feates of Armes / of Rome: some other the alarmes / of Theb[e]s: and some other of Troye, / And hath the sledge, and the esroye, / But what have I to doo with warriers: / Meddle I then with those that fit: / No, no, I nere hurt any yet: / Nor nere men to come among soldiers. / I care not for the Thracian God: / I am no man that seeketh blood: / But like the olde Poët Annacron, / It pleases mee well to be Biberon. / And thus in a Sellor to quaffe, / So that some Wench be by to lauffe. / And with Bacchus, and Citherais, / I meane to spend all my whole dayes. / [Printer’s Mark of “D.iii.”] /

[End Pg. 27] ///


[Begin Pg. 28]

Odellet. / 50.BOy: reach by ther the bottle, that / I may taste of the crimson lycor: / For when I am in any dolor, It onelie rejoyces my heart. / The devill made money I thinke: / For without money, what a living, / Have we that serve covetous women: / And without it we can not drinke. / Learning is not now woorth a penny, / And these wives care for no fayre lookes, / And what shall a man doo with Bookes. / Faith hang, if he can get no mony. //

Odellet. / 51.BUt why since, death will not retard, / For any gift that we her offer: / My Dyolle, what helpes it to gard, / This golde, a rousting in a coffer. / Is’t not better that whiles we live, / We give our selves to learning: when / Better then ought else we can give, / (Dead) it makes us to revive agen. /

FINIS. / [Colophon Bar of Calla Lilies] /

[End Pg. 28] ///

[Begin Pg. 29]

Stansse. / 52.DIeus que ie hay (ronsard) qui rien ne se propoz(er), / Qu’ a tromper une amour d’un l ăguage allechant, / Dian ie vos pry aiez loreille e cloz(er), / Affin de n’ouyr point la doulceur de son chant . / Non ie hay plus que mort sa Casandre implacable, / Au coeur ou le Burin d’une douce Pitye, / Ne feut graver benin un feull trait d’ amytie, / ,, Car on doibt payer l’amour d’une amitye semblable. //

Hess’ translation: Gods that will have him (Ronsard), whom trifles not himself intended, / That deceive a love with a luscious speech, / Evoking Diana’s aid then imploring her appearance, / Affinity not at all hearing the anguish of his song. / Not now more than dead his implacable Cassandra, / To the heart or the Graving tool of a sweet Pity, / Not burning-deceased to engrave a benign list of friendship, / ,, For one touch to atone for the passion of a similar harmony. //

Quadran. / 53. Lon ne peut iuger lefant dans le visage, / Sy ‘amant est fidelle, ou volage, en amoure : / Pour le scavoir au vray fueilletez le Courage, / ,, Car la durable amytye ne se’ prevue en un ioure. //

Hess’ translation: One can’t perhaps judge the child-citizen by their appearance, / However much the lover is faithful, or fickle, in love : / As regards the awareness from the quick perusal of a real Courage, / ,, Because the lasting friendship can’t anticipate its own hour. //

Quadran. / 54. Non non, Ie ne tiens point pour guerrier valeureux, / Ungtas de ieunes sots qui ventant leur Vaillance, / ,, Au fruit on congnoist larbre : a la perseverance, / ,, Lon remarque anssi to şt un gallant amoureus.

Hess’ translation: No no, none hold for a valiant warrior, / Ignorant youthful fools that puff up their Valor, / ,, For the fruit-bearing one freezes the tree : on behalf of perseverance, / ,, A distinguished ancient one toasts an amorous gallant. //


[No Printer’s Mark, but Colophon Bar of 6 rows of less-regularly repeated oval symbols than was at the bottom of Pg. 22] / [End Pg. 29 and End of the Booklet] ///.