Sir Thomas Ouerburies vision With the ghoasts of Weston, Mris. Turner, the late Lieftenant of the Tower, and Franklin. By R.N. Oxon.

SIR THOMAS OVERBVRIES Vision . WHen poyson ( O that poyson and foule wrong , Should euer be the subiect of my song ! ) Had set loud Fame vpon a loftie wing , Throughout our streetes with horrid voice to sing Those vncouth tidings , in each itching eare , How raging lust of late , too soone did beare That monster murther , who once brought to light , Did slay the man whose vision I recite : Then did th' inconstant vulgar day by day , Like feathers in the wind , blowne euery way , Frequent the a a Guild ball . Forum , where in thickest throng , I one amongst the rest did passe along To heare the iudgement of the wise , and know That late blacke deede , the cause of mickle woe : But from the reach of voice too farre compel'd , That beast of many heads I there beheld , And did obserue how euerie common drudge , Assum'd the person of an awefull Iudge : ● description ●f the vulgar . Here in the hall amidst the throng one stands Nodding his head , and acting with his hands , Discoursing how the poysons swift or slow Did worke , as if their nature he did knowe : An other here , presuming to outstrippe The rest in sounder iudgement , on his lippe His finger layes , and winketh with one eye , As if some deeper plot he could descrie : Here foure or fiue , that with the vulgar sort Will not impart their matters of import , Withdraw and whisper , as if they alone Talk't things that must not vulgarly be knowne ; And yet they talke of naught from morne till noone But wonders , and the fellowe in the moone : Here some excuse that which was most amisse ; Others doe there accuse , where no crime is , Accusing that which they excus'd anon , Inconstant people , neuer constant known : Censure from lippe to lippe did freely flie , He that knew nothing , with the rest would crie , The voice of iudgement ; euery age shall finde Th' ignoble vulgar cruell , mad in minde : The muddie spawne of euery fruitlesse braine , Daub'd out in ignominious lines , did staine Papers in each mans hand , with rayling rimes Gainst the foule Actors of these wel-knowne crimes : Base wittes , like barking currs , to bite at them Whom iustice vnto death shall once condem . I that beheld , how whispering rumour fed The hungrie eares of euery vulgar head With her ambiguous voyce ; night being come , Did leaue the Forum and returned home ; Where after some repast , with greife opprest Of these bad dayes , I tooke me to my rest : And in that silent time , when sullen night Did hide heau'ns twinckling tapers from our sight , A description of midnight . And on the earth with blackest lookes did lowre , When euery clocke chimb'd twelue , the midnight houre , In which imprison'd ghoasts free licence haue About the world to wander from their graue ; When hungrie wolues and wakefull dogges do howle At euery breach of aire , when the sad owle On the house top beating her balefull wings , And shreeking out her dolefull ditty , sings The song of death , vnto the sicke that lie Hopelesse of health , forewarning them to die : Iust at that houre , I thought my chamber dore Did softly open , and vpon the floare I heard one glide along , who at the last Did call and bid me wake ; at which agast I vp did looke , and loe , a naked man Of comely shape , but deadly pale and wan , Sir Thomas Ouerburies ghoast .

Before me did appeare , in whose sad looke , As in the mappe of griefe or sorrowes booke , My eye did reade such characters of woe , As neither paintings , skill , nor pen can showe : With dreadfull horrour almost stricken dead At such a sight , I shrunke into my bed , But the poore Ghoast to let me vnderstand For what he came , did waft me with his hand , And sorrowes teares distilling from his eies , His poyson'd limbs he show'd , and bad me rise , Which fearefull I , not daring disobey , Rose vp and follow'd , while he lead the way Through many vncouth wayes , he led me on Ouer that Towers fatall hill , whereon That scaffold stands , which sithence it hath stood Hath often lickt vp treasons taynted blood : Thence ouer that same wharfe , fast by whose shoares From Londons bridge the prince of riuers roares , He in a moments space by wondrous power , Transported me into that spacious Tower , Where as we entred in , the very sight Of that vast building , did my soule affright : There did I call to minde , how or'e that gate , The chamber was , where vnremorfefull fate Did worke the falls of those two 〈◊〉 and 〈…〉 Princes dead , Who by their foes were smothered in their bed . And there I did behold that fatall greene , Where famous Essex woefull fall was seene : Where guiltie Suffolks guiltlesse daughter Iane The scaffold with her noble blood did staine : Where royall Anne her life to death resign'd , Whose wombe did beare the 〈…〉 praise of women kind : And where the last 〈…〉 Plantaginet did pore Her life out in her blood , where many more , Whom law did iustly , or vniustly taxe , Past by the sentence of the bloody axe : And here as one with suddaine sorrow stroke , The Ghoast stood still a while , with dolefull looke Fixt on the ground , and after sad sighes giuen With eyes and hands vp-lifted vnto heauen , As calling them to witnesse of his woe , In sad complaint , his griefe he thus did show . Great God of heauen , that pittiest humane wrongs , To whom alone reuenge of blood belongs ; Thou , that vpon the wings of heauen do'st ride , And laugh'st to scorne the man , that seekes to hide And ouer-burie guiltlesse blood in dust , Thou know'st the paines of my impoyson'd ghoast ; When men more changing then th' inconstant winde , Or doe not know , or knowing wilfull blinde , Will not behold dead Ouerburies griefe , But thinke his losse no more then losse of life ▪ ( Ye friends vnkind and false ) that after death Doe let your friendship vanish with the breath Of him that 's dead , and thinke since truth begun To trie my cause , more satisfaction done Then all my wrongs require ; giue eare , and say When I haue told my griefe , if from the day That mans first blood to heauen cri'd out of earth , For vengeance 'gainst the first mans eldest birth Vntill this time ; if man for life so lost , More iustly may complaine , then my dead ghoast . I was ( aye me , that I was euer so ) Belou'd in court , first step to all my woe : There did I gaine the grace of Prince and Peeres , Knowne old in iudgement , though but young in yeers ; And there , as in this Kingdomes garden , where Both weedes and flowers doe grow , my plant did beare The buddes of hope , which flowring in their prime And May of youth , did promise fruit in time : But lust , foule lust did with a hand of blood Supplant my plant , and crop me in the budde : Yet to my selfe had I my counsells kept , Or had I drown'd my cares in rest , and slept , When I did breake my quiet sleepes , and waite To serue a false friend , and aduance his state , I had not met with this inhumane wrong , But might perhaps haue happy liu'd , and long . Did euer fortune pinch him with constraint ? That little wealth I had , supply'd his want : Did euer cares perplex his feeble braine ? What wit I had , his weakenesse did sustaine : Did euer error make him doe amisse ? What wisedome I had learn'd , was euer his : My wit , my wealth , and wisedome with good chaunce , In his great honours May game , lead the daunce . I doe not falsly boast the gifts of mind , Best wittes can iudge , my Wife I left behind Vnto the world , a witnesse may remaine , I had no dull conceit , no barren braine : But as a dogge that at his pray doth ame , Doth onely loue the water for his game , Which once obtain'd , he playing then no more , Shakes off the water when he comes on shore : So my great Friend , no friend , but my great Foe , Safe swimming in that way which I did showe , Through dangers waters after honours game , Did shake me off when I had gain'd the same . Vaine man , too late thou do'st repent my wrong , That huge great sayle of Honour was too strong For thy great boate , wanting thy friend to steare : In this , thy weakenesse and my worth appeare : O hadst thou kept the path by me begunne , That other impious race thou hadst not runne : In wayes of vice thy steps I did not guide , Onely for vertue Ouerburie di'd : But had in gratitude no further gone , I had not wail'd with many a piteous grone These poysoned limbes ; O how will future times Blushing to heare such execrable crimes Beleeue report , when then it shall be said , Thou wast that man , that man that me betray'd , That sauage man , that wanting meanes or heart , Or rather both to meete with my desert , Too cruell didst deuise to stop my breath , To end thy care , and my deare life by death : Death , oh no death , but thousand deathes in one , For had it bin but meere priuation Of loued life , my greiued Ghoast had fled Without such paine and anguish to the dead : O wretched foes ! why did yee take delight To excercise your hate with such despight Vpon a guiltlesse man ? what had I done ? But that yee might , when as ye first begunne Your tragicke plot , and did my life awaite , With single death haue satisfied your hate ? Was it , ah was it not enough to giue One poyson first , and then to let me liue ? Till ye did please to giue an other , then , An other , and an other ; but as men , All made of flint , to laugh my plaints to scorne , And scoffe at me , while I alas did mourne : When in my chamber walls , the very stones Sweat droppes for teares to heare my greiuous grones ; As sencelesse , they would simpathize my woes , Though my sad cries were musicke to my foes . Let ages past vntill the worlds first day , Shew all records of antique times , and say If euer any did by poyson die , That at his death had greater wrong then I. It was not one dayes space , nor two , nor three , In which those cruell men tormented me : Month after month , they often did instill The diuers natures of that banefull ill Throughout these limbs ; inducing me to thinke , That what I tooke in Physicke , meate , or drinke , Was to restore me to my health ; when all Was but with lingring death to worke my fall . Oh how my Ghoast doth quake , when it suruayes This fatall house , where I did end my daies ! And trembles , as it suffered now againe , Onely to thinke vpon that woefull paine ; When the slow poyson secretly did creepe Through all my veines , and as it went , did sweepe All ease with paine , all rest with griefe away , From euery corner of my house of clay : Then did I loath my life , but could not die , Sometimes to God , sometimes to men I crie To giue me ease of my tormenting hell , Whose paine no pen can write , no tongue can tell : In vaine my tongue thou vtterd'st forth my cries To wicked men , with teare-tormented eyes ; In vaine mine eies in you the teares did stand , While I to heauen for helpe did lift my hand ; In vaine my hands were ye stretcht forth to heauen , My time was set , my life to death was giuen : Tongue , eyes , and hands did often plead in vaine , Nothing but death could ease me of my paine : And death at last to my desire did yeeld , Who with such furious force did take the field T' assayle my soule , that 'gainst his matchlesse might , In greater torment neuer man did fight ; With poison'd dart he at my life did strike , The venome seazing on me vulture-like , With torment tore my entrayles ; thence did runne Into my vaines , and boyling there begunne A fresh assault , which beeing a while withstood By natures force , at last did seaze my blood : Then victor-like , possest of euery part , It did assaile my yet not yeelding heart , The soules cheife seate , where hauing vanquisht all The powers of life , while I to God did call For grace and mercy , after sad sighs giuen With greiuous grones , my soule fled hence to heauen . O thou sad monument of Norman yoke , Whose great foundation hee , whose conquering stroke Did stoope our neckes to Norman rule e e Out of a ●●●●ster booke of the acts of the Bishop of Rochester in 〈◊〉 suruay . first laid , Looke thy records of those , to death betray'd Within thy fatall chambers , and there see If any murdered , lost his life like mee . Those royall roses of Plantaginest , Which that white boare of f f Richard the third . Yorke , that bloody beast Hath rooted vp , within those walls of thine , In death felt little paine compar'd to mine : Thou knowest that g g Henry the 〈◊〉 . King , son to that kingly Knight , Beneath whose sword in Agincourts great fight , France fell vpon her knees , thy flore did staine With his deare blood , by bloody Richard slaine : Thou didst looke on , when Clarence blood was shed , And didst behold , how hee poore Duke halfe dead , Yet bleeding fresh , in Malmesie-but was dround , Whose body sithence neuer could be found : Thou sawst when h h 〈…〉 Tirrels bloody slaues did smother This kingdomes vncrownd King , and his young brother : Those princely babes of Yorke , thou heardst them crie , When they betwixt the sheets did strangled die ; But to their paine death did swift end assigne , Thou know'st their greifes were not so great as mine . T' was not for naught , that thy first builders hand Did temper i i 〈…〉 blood with burned lime and sand , So to conglutinate thy stony masse , And bring the Conquerours will and worke to passe : Well may it be , thy walls with blood were built , Where so much guiltlesse blood hath since bin spilt . But here an end of all my paine and woe , Death shuts vp all our greatest greifes , for so All men would thinke ; but past all thought of minde , My greatest greife , alas , is yet behind . Oh why should fiercest beast of all the wood , When hee hath slaine his foe , and lickt his blood , End hate in death , and man with man in strife , Not end his malice with the ende of life ? Can they be men and lords of beasts , that beare Their Makers image , and will yet not feare That ill , which beasts abhorre in brutish minde ? Men , O no men , but monsters against kind : Such monsters were my tyger-hearted foes , Who vnremorsefull of my forepast woes , When from their cruell hands my soule was fled , Did with their tongues pursue me beeing dead ; And yet not dead , for heauen such grace doth giue , My soule in heauen , my name on earth doth liue : My name , as great Apollo's flowring bay Lookes greene when winter clads the earth in gray , Did flourish , blowne vpon by fames faire breath , In euery eye , long time before my death ; When my proud foes of great and glorious name , Were blasted by the breath of foule defame : At good report , that on her golden wings Did beare my name , their tongue like adder-stings Did shoot foule slanders poyson , so to spill The same with foule defame , as they did kill My body with foule death , that men might loath My liuing name , and my dead body both , False rumour , that mad monster , who still beares More tongues about with her , then men haue eares , With scandall they did arme , and sent her out Into the world , to spread those lies about ; That those loath'd spots , marks of their poysning sinne , Which di'd with vgly marble , paint the skinne Of my dead body , were the marks most iust Of angry heau'ns fierce wrath for my foule lust : O barbarous cruelty ! oh more then shame Of shamelesse foes ! with lust to blast my name , When wonder t' was , heauens iudgement did not seaze Their wanton bodies , with that great disease , Since death to me by poyson they did giue , That they in am'rousiolity might liue . Now when false rumours breath throughout the court And citty both , had blowne this false report , Many , that oft before approu'd my name With praise for vertue , blusht , as if the shame Of my supposed vice , thus giuen forth , Did argue their weake iudgement of my worth ; My friends look't pale with anger , and my foes Did laugh , to see too light beleefe cause those That lou'd me once , to loath that little dust I left behind me , as a lumpe of lust . O most inhumane wrong ! O endlesse greefe ! O sad redresse ! where sorrowes best releefe Is but dead hope , that helpe may chance be found With those that liue , to cure my credits wound : For this , my restlesse ghoast hath left the graue , And stole through couert snades of night , to craue Thy pens assistance , ( O thou mortall wight ) Whose mournefull Muse , but whilome did recite Our Brittaine Princes , and their wofull fates In that true ( Mirrour for our Magistrates . ) O let thy pen paint out my tragicke woe , That by thy Muse all future times may know My stories truth , who hearing thy sad song , At least , may pitty Ouerburies wrong . This said , the grieued ghoast with sighs did cease His rufull plaints , and as in deepe distresse , Vnder the Towers gate with me he stood , This accident befell on Thames great flood . South by this house , where on the wharfe fast by Those thundering Canons euer ready lie , A docke there is , which like a darkesome caue Archt ouer-head , le ts in Thames flowing waue , Vnder whose Arch , oft haue condemned men , As through the Stygian lake , transported been Into this fatall house , which euermore For treason hoards vp torturing racks in store : At landing of this place , an yron gate Locks vp the passage , and still keeping straite The guilty prisoners , opens at no time But when false treason , or some horrid crime Knocks at the same , from whence by lawes iust doome , Condemned men but sieldome backe do come : ( What'ere thou art may chance to passe that way , And view that place , vnto thy selfe , thus say ; God keepe me faithfull to my Prince and state , That I may neuer passe this yron gate : ) There in the docke the flood that seem'd to gape , Did suddenly giue vp a dreadfull shape ,

Weston ghoast . A man of megar lookes , The description of Weston . deuoy'd of blood , Vpon whose face deaths pale complexion stood ; Of comely shape , and wel compos'd in limme , But slender made , of visage sterne and grimme ; The haires vpon his head and grisly beard With age growne hoarie , here and there appear'd ; Times iron hand with many a wrinckled fret , The marks of age , vpon his front had set : Yet as it did appeare , vntimely death For some foule fact had stopt his vitall breath With that great shame , which giues offence the checke , The fatall rope , that hung about his necke : Trembling vpon his knees in great affright , When he fast by beheld the poysned Knight , He humbly fell , and with sad greife opprest , Wringing his hands , and beating on his breast , While sorrowes droppes vpon his cheekes did run , To vtter forth these words , he thus begun . O worthy Knight , behold the wretched man , Who thy sad Tragedies first sceane began , Through whose each act , vnto this last blacke deede , With bloody minde , vnblest , I did proceede : My hands , alas , did mixe the poisned food , Which kindled cruell fire in thy blood ; Mine eares did heare thy lamentable grones , When the slow-working-poyson wrackt thy bones ; Mine eies without one droppe of sorrow shed , Beheld thee dying , and beheld thee dead ; For which both hands , eyes , eares , and euery part , Haue suffered death , and conscience bitter smart . I was that instrument , alas the while , By thy great foes instructed to beguile Thy lingring hopes their mighty state did whet Mee on in mischeife , and their bounty set A golden edge vpon my dull consent , At once to worke thy fall , and their content . The doctrine of that Whoore , that would dispence With subiects for the murther of a Prince , Taught me that lust and blood were slender crimes , And he that serues his turne , must serue the times . Oh had I neuer knowne that k k Doct. Turner . Doctors house , Where first of that Whoores cup I did carouse , And where disloyalty did oft conceale Romes frighted rattes , that ouer seas did steale ; My thoughts perhaps , had then not giuen way , Thy life for gold with poyson to betray . But yee that doe , and who doe not condem My blacke offences ? when yee thinke on them , In such imaginations , ponder too What with weake man , the power of gold may doe . Ye seruile sycophants , whose hopes depend On great mens wills ; what is the vtmost end At which ye aime ? why doe ye like base curres , Vpon your Patron fawne ? why like his spurres , Will ye be euer ready at his heeles , With pleasing words to clawe him , where he feels The humour itch ? or why , will ye so waite , As to lie downe and kisse the feete of state ? And oft expose your selues to wretched ends , Loosing your soules to make great men your friends ? Is it not wealth yee seeke ? and doth not gold Ingenuous wittes ofttimes in bondage hold ? The stout sea-rangers on the fearefull flood , That hunt about through Neptunes waterie wood , And o're a thousand rockes and sands , that lie Hid in the deepe , from pole to pole doe flie ; Who often , when the stormy Ocean raues , Fights with fierce thunders , lightnings , winds and waues , Hauing but one small inch of boord , to stand Betwixt them and ten thousand deaths at hand , Expose themselues to all this woe and paine , To quench the greedy thirst of golden gaine . O strong inchauntment of bewitching gold ! For this , the Syre by his owne sonne is sold , For this , the vnkind brother sells the brother , For this , one friend is often by an other Betray'd to death ; yea euen for this , the wife Both sells her beauty , and her husbands life : And I , ay me , for this did worke thy fall By poysons helpe , hauing this hope withall , That great mens greatnes , would haue boren out My crime , though knowne , against all dangers doubt . But now too late , my wretched ghoast doth proue , That his all-seeing eye from heauen aboue , To whom blacke darkenesse selfe , is far more cleare Then the bright sunne , makes guiltlesse blood appeare Out of our deepest plots , to murthers shame , Though greatest men doe seeke to hide the same . Ye haplesse instruments of mighty men ; Ye spunges , whom the hands of greatnes , when That they by you haue wiped out the spot Of that disgrace , which did their honour blot , Do squeeze so long , vntill that ye be drie , And then as needlesse things doe cast ye by : Where one of these your seruice would imploy , Our makers heauenly image to destroy , By violence of death in other men , Thereby with blood to satisfie his spleen : O do not trust the hopes of such a man , Nor thinke his policie or power can Hoodwinke all-seeing heauen , nor euer drowne The crie of blood , which brings swift vengeance downe . When many men , but one mans life will spill , Their liues for his , heauen euermore doth will . Offend in murder , and in murder die , No crime to heauen , so loud as blood doth crie . In other wrongs , when man doth man offend , We restitution may in part pretend : But where the wrong is done by murthers knife , No price for blood the Law sayes , life for life . The eye of wakefull iustice , for a season May seeme to winke at murthers bloody treason ; Yet from the houre of so blacke a deede , The worme of conscience on the soule doth feede ▪ And dreadfull furies , whose imagin'd sight In euery place , doth horribly affright The guilty man , pursue the steps that flie , While swift-wing'd vengeance makes the hue and crie Iustice to me did seeme to sleepe a while , And with delay did all my hopes beguile ; But in short time now in my riper yeares , When grauer age on my gray head appeares , Death and reproach attach't my life and name , To bring me to my graue with greater shame : To you therefore that hunger after gold , To you , whom hope of great mens grace makes bold In any great offence , henceforth let me For euermore a sad ensample be . This said , he sighing shrunke into the flood , And in a moments space , an other stood

Mist. 〈◊〉 ghoast The description of Mist. Turner . In the same place ; but such a one whose sight With more compassion moou'd the poysned Knight : It seem'd that shee had been some gentle dame , For on each part of her faire bodies frame , Nature such delicacie did bestow , That fairer obiect oft it doth not show : Her chrystall eye beneath an yuorie brow , Did shew what shee at first had been ; but now The roses on her louely cheekes were dead , The earths pale colour had all ouer-spread Her sometimes liuely looke , and cruell death Comming vntimely , with his wintrie breath Blasted the fruit , which cherrie-like in showe Vpon her dainty lips did whilome growe : O how the cruell cord did mis-become Her comely necke , and yet by Lawes iust doome Had been her death : those locks like golden thred That wont in youth t'enshrine her globe-like head , Hung carelesse downe ; and that delightfull limme , Her snow-white nimble hand , that wont to trimme Their tresses vp , now spitefully did teare And rend the same : nor did she now forbeare To beate that breast of more then lilly white , Which sometimes was the lodge of sweete delight : From those two springs where ioy did whilome dwell , Griefes pearly droppes vpon her pale cheeks fell , And after many sighes , at last with weake And fainting voyce , shee thus did silence breake . Thou gentle Knight , whose wrongs I now repent , Behold a wofull wretch , that did consent In thy sad death : for I , alas therefore By gold my seruant did suborne to pore That death into thy cup , thy dish , thy diet , Whose paine too long did rob thy ghoast of quiet : Yet neither thirst of gold , nor hate to thee For iniuries receiu'd , incensed me To seeke thy life ; but loue , deare loue to those That were my friends , and thy too deadly foes : With them in Court my state I did support , Ah , that my state had neuer known the Court ! Vertue and vice I there together sawe , But like the spider , I was taught to drawe Foule poyson , where sweet hony might bee had , And how to leaue the good , and chuse the bad : At last , through greedy going on in sinne Made senselesse , by degrees I did beginne To rise from great to greater , till at last Mine owne sinnes did mine owne destruction hast . O heauy doome ! when heauen shall so decree , That sinne in man the plague of sinne must bee . But here let chastest beauties when they blame My follies most , and blush to heare my shame , Remember then best beauties are but fraile , And how that strongest men do oft assaile Our weakest selues ; so may they pitty me , And my sad fall may their fore-warning be . Yee tender offspring of that rib , refin'd By Gods owne finger , and by him assign'd To be a helpe , and not a hurt to man ; How is it possible your beauties can Be pure from blemish , treading such vaine wayes As now you doe in these prophaner dayes ? Must flesh that is so fraile still feare to fall , And ye the frailest flesh not feare at all ? Can ye , ah can ye , with vaine thoughts to please Your wanton soules , on yuorie beddes of ease Spend pretious time , and yet suppose in this Ye doe no ill , nor thinke one thought amisse ? Can ye to catch the wandring thoughts of him Whom ye affect , decke euery dainty lim , Powder your haire , and more to please the eye , Refresh your paler cheekes with purer die , Lay out your breasts ; and in the glasse thus drest , Obserue what smile , or frowne becomes yee best ? And yet not feare heau'ns iudgement in the end , At least in this , not thinke ye doe offend ? Can ye on wanton meates to mooue desire , Though of your selues too full of Paphian fire , Feede euery houre , and when hot blood begins To hurrie you vnto those horrid sinnes , That spots your beddes , your bodies , and your names , Blot your blacke soules with many greater blames ? And yet not thinke , ye doe deserue heauens hate , At least to turne , doe thinke no time too late ? O doe not sooth your selues in these foule crimes , Heare not the tongue of these inchanting times : Your too much idle ease , which opes the gate To vitious thoughts , I know is counted state : Vpon your curious pride and vaine aray , Fond men the name of cleanlines do lay : Your lust whose sparkles , in your eyes doe shine , On wanton youth , is called loue diuine : Thus they that would for each foule fault excuse you And turne your vice to vertue , doe abuse you . But be ye not so blinded , looke on me , And let my story in your clossets be As the true glasse , which there you looke vpon , That by my life , ye may amend your owne . Obserue each step , when first I did begin To tread the path , that lead from sin to sin , Vntill my most vnhappie foote did lite , In guiltlesse blood of this impoisned Knight : After I had in Court begun to tast Of idle ease , I daily fedde so fast Vpon false pleasure , that at last I did Climbe Citharaeas hill , like wanton kid In fertile pastures playing ; naught did feare me , I thought that roaring Lyon would not teare me . Two darling sinnes , too common and too foule , With their delights did then bewitch my soule ; First pride aray'd me in her loose attires , Fed my fond fancie fat with vaine desires , Taught me each fashion , brought me ouer-seas Each new deuise , the humorous time to please : But of all vaine inuentions , then in vse When I did liue , none suffer'd more abuse Then that phantasticke vgly fall and ruffe , Daub'd o're with that base starch of yellow stuffe : O that my words might not be counted vaine , But that my counsell might find entertaine With those , whose soules are tainted with the itch Of this disease , whom pride doth so bewitch , That they doe thinke it comely , not amisse : Then would they cast it off , and say , it is The baud to pride , the badge of vanity , Whose very sight doth murther modestie ▪ Ye then detesting it , they all would knowe , Some wicked wit did fetch it from belowe , That here they might expresse by this attire The colour of those wheeles of Stygian fire , Which prides plung'd ofspring with snake-powdred haire , About their necks in Plutoes Court doe weare . Thus pride , the pandar to luxurious thoughts , Did guide me by the hand through those close vaults , That lead to lusts darke chambers , darke as night , The eyes of lust doe ne're abide the light . But here perhaps some curious dame , who knowes No good , but what her outward habit showes , Will iudge my true complaint , as most vniust , In that I call her pride , the band to lust : But had her bodie windowes in each side , That each one might behold her heart of pride , There might one see the cause , why she doth trimme , Tricke vp , and decke defects in euery limme ; And hauing seene the same , may iustly say , Her loose attire doth her loose mind bewray . Of this the sad effects of yore were seene In Lady k k 〈…〉 Alfrith , sometimes Englands Queene , Whose Lord Earle Ethelwald , at first held deare To her affection : when that he did heare That his great Sou'raigne , royall Edgar , hee Whom eight Kings row'd vpon the riuer Dee , Vnto his house did purpose to repaire , Knowing his deerest Lady wondrous faire , And the King young and wanton , did desire That shee would lay aside her rich attire , And choosing meaner weeds , her art apply To dimme that beautie which did please the eye : But shee , inconstant Lady , knowing well , That beauty most set forth , doth most excell ; As precious stones when they are set in gold , Are then most faire and glorious to behold ; Arai'd her selfe in all her proud attire , To set victorious Edgars heart on fire : Who caught like silly flie into the flame , At suddaine sight of such a dainty dame , To coole the heat of his lust-burning will , Her wronged husbands guiltlesse blood did spill . With pride thus tasting of that wanton cup Which lust did giue me , I was giuen vp To loose desire : which bruitish sinne , since here In it's owne shape it may not well appeare , Least it offend all modest eyes and eares , I onely doe lament with my true teares : Yet giue me leaue , in some few words to tell This wanton world , into what horrid hell Of wicked sinnes , foule lust did make me fall , That vnchast youth from lust I may recall . As euery euill humour , which is bred In humane bodies , couets to be fed With that ill nutriment which doth increase The same , vntill it grow to some disease Incurable ; so did my loose desire In vaine delights , seeke fewell for the fire So long , vntill ( aye me ) vnto my shame It did burst forth , and burne me in the flame . I left my God t' aske counsell of the deuill , I knew there was no helpe from God in euill : As they that goe on whooring vnto hell , From thence to fetch some charme or magicke spell , So ouer Thames , as o're th' infernall lake , A wherrie with their oares I oft did take , Who Charon-like did waft me to that Strand , Where Lambeths towne to all well knowne doth stand ; There Forman was , that fiend in humane snape , That by his art did act the deuills ape : Oft there the blacke Inchanter , with sad lookes State turning ouer his blasphemous bookes , Making strange characters in blood-red lines : And to effect his horrible designes , Oft would he inuocate the fiends below , In the sad house of endlesse paine and woe , And threaten them , as if he could compell Those damned spirits to confirme his spell . O prophane wretches ! ye that doe forsake Your faith , your God , and your owne soules , to take Aduise of Sorcerers , againe to finde Some trifle lost ; why will ye be so blind On some base beldam for lost things to fawne ? To gaine whose losse , ye leaue your soules in pawne . Too many , too much wronged by the time , Do thinke this great idolatrie no crime ; But let them marke the path which they do tread , And they shall see , that in it they are lead From hope and helpe , to hurt and all annoy , From him that made , to him that doth destroy . But without mercie here , let no sterne eye Looke on my faults ; alas for charity , Let all with pitty my offence bemone , Since that it was not my offence alone : The strongest soone doe slip , as I did fall , For woe is me , I was seduc'd to all . Yee that detest my now detected shame , And thinke that ye shall neuer meet the same , Thinke how the friendship , and the auncient loue Of some great Lady long enioy'd may mooue : And thinke with that , how much the rising state Of some great man , my sex might animate : I was not base , but borne of gentle blood , My nature of it selfe inclin'd to good , But wormes in fairest fruit doe soonest breed , Of heauenly grace best natures haue most neede . Iust heauen did suffer me , as I begunne To hasten on from vice to vice , and runne My selfe in sinnefull race quite out of breath , That sinne at last might punish sinne by death : For when those wantons , whose vniust desire Had vrg'd me on so farre , that to retire I knew was vaine , as I before to lust Had beene a minister , so now I must Ioyne hands in blood , which they did plot and studye O who would thinke that women-kind were bloody ! But when our chastitie we doe forgoe , That lost , what then will wee refuse to doe ? This did that Romane proud m m 〈◊〉 anna● 〈◊〉 Scianus know , Who hating Drusus as his deadly foe , And basely seeking to betray his life , Did first allure faire Liuia Drusa's wife To poyson her owne Lord , that in his stead The base Scianus might enioy his bedde ; Who rais'd by Caesar from ignoble place , In Liuiaes lustfull eie did finde more grace Then Drusus , Caesars sonne , a manly youth : O who knowes how to feed a womans tooth ! In mischiefe I went on , and did agree To be an actor in thy Tragedie , Thou iniur'd ghoast ; yet was I but a mute , And what I did was at an others suite : Their plots I saw , and silent kept the same , For which my life did suffer death and shame ; For see , ah see , this cord about my necke , Which time sometime with pretious things did decke , Reuenge hath done , and Iustice hath her due , Let none then wrong the dead , let all with you O gentle knight , forget my great offence , Which I haue purg'd with teares of penitence : For thousand liuing eyes with teares could tell , That from my eies true teares of sorrow fell : Then iudge my cause with charitable minde , Who mercie seekes with faith , shall mercie finde . This said , she vanisht from before our sight , I thinke to heauen , and thinke , I thinke aright . She gone , the poyson'd ghoast did seeme with teares To chide her fate : but loe , here straight appeares 〈…〉 .

An other in her place , The description of Sir ●arius ●●lo●●● , the late Leiftenant of the Tower . who seem'd to be When he did liue , some man of good degree Mongst men on earth ; one of so solemne looke , As if true grauity that place had tooke To dwell vpon ; his person comely was , His stature did the meaner size surpasse ; Well shapt in euery limme , well stept in yeares , As here and there appear'd by some gray haires . When first he did appeare , with wofull looke He view'd the Tower , and his head he shooke , As if from thence he did deriue his woe , Which with a sigh he thus begun to show . O thou sad building , ominous to those Whom with thy fatall walls thou dost inclose , For thee , I haplesse man , as for the ende Of my desire , did falsly condiscend Vnto that plot , by others heads begun , Through which in thee such wrong was lately done . Thou that didst poyson'd feele thy foes despight , See here the ghoast of that vnhappy Knight , Which whilome was Leiftenant of this place , Though now a wretch , thus haltred with disgrace . I was , alas , what boo●s it that I was , Of good report , and did with credit passe Through euery act of my liues tragedie , Vpon this world the stage of vanity , Till the last sceane of blood by others plotted , Concluding ill , my name and credit blotted . I must confesse I did conni●e at those That were the ministers to thy proud foes , Closely imploy'd by them thy life to spill By secret poyson , though against my will : Feare of their greatnesse , and no hate to thee , Inforst my coward conscience to agree . When first to me this plot they did impart , O what a tedious combate in my heart , Vnto my soule did feelingly appeare , T'wixt my sad conscience , and a doubtfull feare : Feare said that if I did reueale the same , Those great ones great in grace , would turne the shame Vpon my head , but conscience said againe , That if I did conceale it , murders staine Would spot my soule as much for my consent , As if at first it had bin my intent : Feare said that if the same I did disclose , The countenance of greatnes I should lose , And be thrust out of office and of place ; But conscience said that I should lose that grace And fauour , which my God to me had giuen , And be perhaps thrust euer out of heauen . Long these two champions did maintaine the field , Till my weake conscience at the last did yeild ▪ O let those men that doe condemne my feare And follie , most in their remembrance beare , What certaine danger stood on either side As I should passe , and how I should haue di'd In either way , at least with some great fall For euer haue been crusht : and thinke withall , How prone our nature is in feare , to rest Vpon those seeming hopes that promise best . I speake not this to mitigate my sinne , O no , I wish my fall may others winne From the like , feare , and that my life may be A president to men of such degree , To whom authoritie doth thinke it fit , The trust of such a function to commit . Let such men to remember still be moou'd , That which by sad experience I haue proou'd ; T' is good to feare great men , but yet 't is better Euer to feare God more , since God is greater : If Gods good Angel had imprinted this Into my thoughts , I had not thought amisse ; Nor I , vnhappie I , should haue consented , But all this mischeife I had then preuented . Here some perhaps will thinke the former race Of my sad life , t' haue beene debosht and base , Because at last it had so base an ende ; But for our selues , might modestie contend In opposition , I might iustly say , How many now liue glorious at this day , Whose honour greater staines doe daily spot , Then any which my former life did blot : Yet those my crimes which did my God offend , For which his finger did point out this ende , Vnto my life I 'le shew , though to my shame , That others as from death may flie the same . Note . My Father , from whose life my breath I drewe , When sicke vpon his bed he lay , and knewe That at his doore of flesh deaths hand did knocke , And did perceiue weake nature would vnlocke To let him in , did with his blessing giue This charge to me ; that I while I did liue Should neuer seeke for office at the Court , But with that meanes be left my state support : With reuerence his will I did obey , Vntill ( O that I might not tell the day ) In which I did with greedy eie affect That place in this great Tower , without respect To my dead Syres behest ; yet since it was A touch to conscience , on I would not passe Vntill by some I was resolu'd amisse , That as in other things , so I in this Which in it selfe was of indifference And lawfull vnto others , might dispence With my obedience to my Fathers will , And that mine owne intent I might fulfill : Yet one there is ( O euer may he be Belou'd of heau'n for his great loue to me ) Who by the light of truth did show the way Which I should goe , but I did not obay : Ambitious mist did blinde my weaker eyes , I thought by this preferment I should rise ; Yet no desert but gold did gaine me grace , Mine owne corruption purchas'd me that place : For brib'rie in the soule a blemish makes Of him that giues , as well as him that takes , And bribing hands that giue , must guiltie be Of their owne want of worth : for who , but hee That in himselfe the want of merit findes , Will be the baude to base corrupted mindes ? Ye , that neglect performance of the will Of your dead parents , thinking it no ill To disobey their precepts , now in me The curse of disobedience ye may see : And yee whose golden fingers , as in sport , Like lime-twigges catch at offices in Court , In which obtain'd ye euer after liue Corrupt in minde , to gaine what ye did giue ; Behold , vntimely deaths disgracefull come About this necke , my bribing hands reward . Before this suddaine , and vnlookt for fa●e Did fall thus heauy on me , when my sta●e Did flourish among men , to mind I call An accident of note which then did fall . Note . Bewitcht with loue to that too common vice In this our age , of hazardy and dice , I loosing once my coine ( for few thereby Haue euer gainers beene ) did wish that I When I againe did vse the dice , might come To die this shamefull death , which by the doome Of righteous heau'n , againe I vsing game , As I had wisht , to mee vnlook't for came . Vaine gamesters that too commonly vse Strange deprecations , when ye doe abuse Your selues in game , by my sad fall take heede , And let your word be euer as your deede ; Least your hand meete mine in the selfe-same dish , For heau'n doth often heare when men doe wish . But of no sinne had my most sinnefull soule Beene euer sicke , yet this one sinne most foule , This act of poyson , to my house a staine , With future times for euer shall ramaine : The die of blood on murderers hand doth stay , No teares , no time , can wipe the same away ; But if true teares of forrow may with you , ( As all true sorrowes teares with heauen may doe ) Mooue pittifull regard of my sad fall , Ye then remembring how I fell withall , Will out of charity , with lesser blame Censure my fault , when ye shall heare the same : Thus quit by death from doome of Law , and heauen Out of free mercy hauing me forgiuen , Let all calumnious tongues their mallice cease , That so my soule may euer liue in peace : O let the world abate her sharpned tongue , And since I haue done pennance for thy wrong Thou wronged Knight , what can thy ghoast now craue ? Grieue thee no more , goe rest thee in thy graue : Thy foes decline , proud Gaueston is downe , No wanton Edward weares our Englands crowne ▪ This said , he vanisht ; and an other stood In the same place , midway aboue the flood ,

The description of 〈…〉 Whose strange demeanour with amazement strooke The description of 〈◊〉 . Vs that beheld him ; for with startled looke , And haire stiffe standing , as a man agast He star'd vpon the Knight , from whom in hast Into the flood he would haue shrunke away , Had not , I thinke , that fury forst his stay , Which while he liu'd his guilty soule pursu'd , Till he his owne offence had freely shew'd . A man he was of stature meanely tall , His bodies lineaments true shap't , and all His limbes compacted well and strongly knit , Natures kind hand no errour made in it ; His beard was ruddie hewe , and from his head A wanton locke it selfe did downe dispread Vpon his backe , to which while he did liue Th' ambiguous name of Elfe-locke he did giue : And now fantasticke frenzie , as before When he did liue , did seeme to vex him sore ; The shamefull rope which 'bout his shoulders hung , Hither and thither carelesly he dung , And as a catiffe of that cursed crewe , Whom sad despaire doth after death pursue , Howling and yelling , while the teares did run Downe by his cheekes , at last he thus begun . Since that slie serpent of soule-slaying-sin , Which feedes vpon the guiltie minde within Each wicked breast , doth force me to reueale Vnto my shame , what I did long conceale : Giue eare , ye cursed Atheists all that been , Ye vnbeleeuing dogges in shape of men , That thinke the name of God and his great Lawe , But things deuis'd to keepe the world in awe , Who mocke the times last dreadfull day to come , Which at the length your wicked deeds shall doome : And ye blasphemous Exorcists , that are With Plutoes factors so familiar Here vpon earth , that ye each day doe deal For transportation of blind soules to hell : Whom fooles doe wisemen call , giue eare to me , And in my wretched fate your follies see . I was ( aye me , that still I was not so ) When Aprill buddes of youth themselues did show Vpon my chin , a Student in the Law , From which fantasticke thoughts my minde did drawe To the more pleasing studie of that art Of Physicke , to the which though little part Of learning gaue me helpe , yet strong desire To know that worthy science , set on fire The fond affection of my forward will , To search the secrets of that noble skill : But he who from that facultie shall fall , To which ineuitable fate did call Him at the first , forsakes that happie way , Which he should go , and haplesse runnes astray : Diseas'd with vanities fantasticke fi●tes , Which ague-like doth vex our English wittes , Who thinke at home all homely , and doe plough Deepe furrowes vpon Neptunes waterie browe , From forreine shoares to bring the worst of bad , And in exchange leaue there what good they had ; The seas I past to helpe out my weake skill In th' Aromatike Art , but O the ill , Which there our ignorant English oft do finde , Did first corrupt my vncorrupted minde : O vaine conceit of those , that doe repute In euery Art the most admired fruite Of any braine ; if of domesticke wit , But base and triuiall , if compar'd to it Of forreine heads , that onely vs can please , And such hath beene our Englands old disease : There did I finde , O neuer had I found , Murthers close way to kill my foe , the ground Of that deuise ( thou wronged Knight ) whereby Thou most vntimely wert inforst to die : There was I taught , with vaine words to command The spirits from below , who still at hand Will ready bee , as seeming to obay Those soule-blind men , whom they doe most betray . Thus hauing , as I thought , my minde enricht With deepest knowledge , and with pride bewitcht , To blow that vaine blast on the trumpe of fame , Which through the world I thought might bear my name , I backe return'd for England , there to showe That wondrous skill , which I would seeme to knowe : There as the Fowler doth with whistle call The silly birds , vntill they hap to fall Into his net ; so did my name each day , Once blowne abroad , lead simple fooles away From helpfull heauen , to seeke aduise in hell , And there for toyes themselues and soules to sell : But in this path long thus I did not tread , Which downe vnto the house of death doth lead , Before that old slie serpent did beginne T' entice me , to that selfe-accusing sinne Of horrid murther , shewing me the way By art of poyson , closely to betray What life to death I would , nor did he leaue Vntill my soule he did so farre bereaue Of euery feeling sense , that wicked I Did closely poyson her , that vs'd to lie In mine owne bosome , that shee beeing dead Might to me liuing leaue an empty bed : After this fact , that to my gultie soule It might not as it was , seeme vgly foule , My subtile foe did whisper in my eare These seeming happy newes , how fame did beare My name vpon her wings , with loud report Of my strange deedes as farre as to the Court ; Where hauing beene employ'd , I with all skill Apply'd my selfe to please ; no damned ill I did refuse , not making any doubt While greatnesse wings did compasse me about . Forman that cunning Exorcist and I , Would many times our wicked wits apply Kind nature in her working to disarme Of proper strength ; and by our spels would charme Both men and women , making it our sport And play , to point at them in our report . Thus fatted with false pleasure for a while , Still with good hope of hap , I did beguile My selfe in all imployments , till at last Thy death ( thou iniur'd Knight ) did with it hast My vnexpected fall : I was the man , That did prepare those poysons , which began And ended all thy paine , which I did giue Vnto that man , 〈…〉 who did attendant liue On thee in thy distresse , who since that time Was he , that first did suffer for this crime . O what a suddaine change of cheerefull thought To sadnesse , selfe-accusing conscience brought After this bloody deed : before all ease Did seeme to waite on me ; for what could please Which I did want ? that idol gold , which all Or most men closely worship , seem'd to fall As thicke vpon me , as the golden shower That fell on Danae in the Dardin Tower . Swimming in streames of false delight , and prickt With pride and selfe conceit , at heau'n I kickt : The names of God , and Maker , I did sleight As bug-beare words the childish world t' affright : I did impute the spheares eternall daunce , And all this all , to nature and to chaunce ; But all men laugh my follies vnto scorne : For who so blinde , will say being mortall borne , He hath a reason , and will yet denie The same to this Vniuersalitie , Of which , alas , he is the lesser part : As who should say , his feete , his hands , his heart Might well be wise , and he himselfe a foole , Such is the wisedome of th' Atheisticke schoole . The eye of heau'n , from whome no heart can hide The secret thoughts , my close intents espi'd ; And when I did with most inuentiue braine , Deuise to wipe away my conscience staine , And thy sad death most closely to conceale , Heauen forc'd my selfe , mine owne selfe to reueale : The shadowe of the dead , or some foule fiend , Or furie , whom reuenge did iustly send To punish me for my detested sin , With snakie whippes did scourge my soule within ; Forbidding me my rest , or day , or night , Till I had brought mine owne offence to light : For which condemn'd vnto that shamefull end Of strangling torment , still the franticke fiend Did follow me vnto my liues last breath ; As was my life before so was my death . This said , he vanisht , and with him that night The vision ending , our empoysoned Knight Thus spake : O England , O thrise happie land , Who of all Iles most gracefully dost stand Vpon this earths broad face , like Venus spot Vpon her cheeke ; thou onely garden plot , Which as an other Eden heau'n hath chose , In which the tree of life and knowledge growes : Happie in all , most happie in this thing , In hauing such a holy , happy King ; A King , whose faith in armes of proofe doth fight , 'Gainst that seuen-headed beast , and all his might : A King , whose iustice will at last not faile , To giue to each his owne in equall scale : A King , whose loue doue-like with wings of fame , To all the world doth happy peace proclame : A King , whose faith , whose iustice , and whose loue , Diuine , and more then royall , him doe prooue : O thou iust King , how hath thy iustice shin'd Vpon my iniur'd ghoast , which beeing confi'nd From hence for euer , neuer had , vnlesse Thy iustice had beene great , obtain'd redresse . If earnest pray●rs wi●h heauen may ought auayle , And earnest prayers with 〈◊〉 doe sieldome fayle ; Let all good men lift vp 〈◊〉 ●earts with me , That what I beg , of 〈…〉 granted be . If euer heart with wicked ●●●ught , shall aime To harme thy State , let heau'n reueale the same : If euer hand lift vp with violent powre Shall seeke thy life , heauen cut it off that houre : If euer eye of treason lurke about , Or lie in waite for thee , heau'n put it out : If heart , hand , eye , abroad or here at home , Shall plot against thee , neuer may they come To their effect , as they haue euer been So may they be ; and let all say , Amen . Here my dreame ended , after which a while Soft slumber did my senses so beguile , I thought the Towergate was o'r● my head , Vntill I wake and found my selfe in bed ; From whence arising , as the wronged Knight Had giuen in charge , this Vision I did write . FINIS .