A pleasant discourse of court and wars with a replication to them both, and a commendation of all those that truly serue prince and countrie. Written by Thomas Churchyard, and called his Cherrishing.

A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars : with a replication to them both , and a commendation of all those that truly serue Prince and countrie . Written by Thomas Churchyard , and called his Cherrishing .

Imprinted at London , by Ar. Hatfield , for William Holme . 1596.

To the Honorable sir George Cary Knight , sonne and heire to my Lord Chamberlaine , gouernour of the Ile of Wight , and Knight Marshall of England , Tho. Churchyard wisheth great worldly hap , encrease of honor , and heauenly blessednes .

IN remembring many curtesies , good turnes , rare fauor , and friendship flowing from your Honorable disposition in this ebbing age , I vowed being found in seruiceable maner to requite : but sicke , am forced to write the opinions of many Lords , Knights , and Gentlemen ( captaines and cheefetaines of great charge ) touching the court and the wars . And for that I serued vnder them , I set downe the words I heard many of them speake of those two honorable points , and discourses . First at Lawndersey sir Thomas Wyet , Wallop , Bellingam , & many more knights there . Then at Bollain the Lord Poynings , sir Rafe Elderkar , sir Iames Crofts , and other knights there . The Lord Gray at Giens , sir Harry Palmer , sir Lewis Dyue , sir Richard Bray , & many more there . At Hams the Lord Dudley , and many gentlemen there . At Callis the Lord Haward , sir William Drury , sir Anthony Ager , sir Thomas Cornwallys , and a number of knights and gentlemen there . In Flaunders sir Anthony Sturley , captaine Matson , Sybyll , Horssey , Ieynks , Plonket , Hynde , and many more captaines there . At Metts in Lorraine captaine Farnam , and in that towne the Lord Admirall that now is , I being without with sundry English Gentlemen there . In France captaine Krayar , Sutton , Twytty , Blunt , Dryuar , and numbers of captaines there . In Scotland where I was taken prisoner , sir William Winter , sir William Woodhouse , and many knights and captaines there : the Lord Clynton our Admirall then . At Burty Cragge sir Iohn Luttrell . At Dondee captaine Marry Church , and sundry gentlemen there . In Haddington sir Iames Wilford , sir Arthur Manering , and many other knights and captaines there . In Lawtherfort , sir Hue Wyllowby , captaine Colby , captaine Hales , and many more there . In Ireland sir William Bellingam , sir Anthony Sellenger , sir Henry Sydney , sir Iames Crofts : all these then deputies , and many knights and captaines there , at their commaundment . In Anwerpe after these things my selfe the chiefe captaine there then . In Brabant , Zeland , and Holland vnder sir Thomas Morgan , sir Humfrey Gylbart , and sundry knights , there seruing a great season . In Scotland before vnder the Lord Gray at the siege of Leeth , where sir William Pellam , sir George Haward , sir Andrew Corbet , and a number of knights were , besides many captaines and gentlemen of good woorth . In Gyens when it was lost , a captaine my selfe , and taken prisoner vnder the old Lord Gray , sir Harry Palmar , master Cripps , and other captaines there . In Ireland againe vnder sir Harry Sydney , where sir Harry Harrington , sir Edward Moore , sir Nicholas Bagnall , and a great company of knights and captaines were , from whom I went to the noble Earle of Ormond . In Garnzey , with sir Thomas Leighton in good credit and charge a good while . In Anwarpe againe , when sir Iohn Norrice , sir Thomas Morgan , sir Edward Hobby , and a number of honorable personages brought ouer Mounsior thither . Thus making those seruices and many more a benefit to my knowledge , & gathering some od notes and sentences among those Honorable and marshall people , I bethought me thereof now in my last sicknes peraduenture , and willing not to smoother them vp in silence , haue published as followes in verse , what the opinion of many dead and aliue hath been both of honorable Court and Warres : dedicating the whole iudgement thereof to your good consideration , bicause you are Knight Marshall of England , and knowes much of marshall causes . After whose good liking I do commend the work to the whole world , humbly desiring you to reade with good will , iudge with milde discretion , and rather commend than condemne : not thereby crauing better credit than it may merit , nor lesse thanks than an honest writer looketh for : though not finely written yet faithfully meant in plainest termes , bicause cunning phrases sauour of the schoole , where seldome I haue stolen any great learning , nor robbed good schollers of their bookes . If God freely gaue , I haue frankly bestowed it , neither a niggard of my verses , nor sparing of my words , but spending my muse and matter as plentifully as though I had good store thereof : take it in good part so the writer stands pleased , God so knoweth , who encrease you in honor and durable credit .

From my chamber in Richmond , this new yeeres day . 1596. Yours in all at commandement , THOMAS CHVRCHYARD .

TEn thousand spend their time in vaine , That haunteth either court or wars , In both of them some hopes to gaine , When both God wot full few prefars : Then bluntly said , and truly told , Long courting maketh yoong men old . Not rich , nor wise , till wit be bought , Wealth followes few that thither run , Some trudge to court to bring home thought , Or see abrode how shines the sun : But leaues Gods blessing far behinde , And liues vpon an aspiring minde . The court is but a pleasant cage For birds to prune their feathers in , A ioy to youth , a paine to age , Where many lose , and few do win : A step of state , where honor stands To bring free harts in bondage bands . A gladsome house of goodly gests , That pay small seruice for their foode , A body full of hollow brests , Where hatreds egs brings foorth their broode , A place of pompe , and perill both , Where finenes ioines , with little troth . A heaunly image heere on earth That lookes like saint without a shrine , An outward signe , and shew of mirth , Where many smarts are cloked fine , A glasse of steele in some od case , Where each man may see his owne face . A randevou , where millions meet In one kings raigne or other sure , A whetstone to a dulled spreet , That many sweet conceits procure , A pallace fraught with faire delite , That prooues but blacke , when it seemes white . A drawing hope , that hath no end , In harts that labour still for fame , A strong crossebowe that will not bend , Till courtly archers wins the game , A plot where cunning digs vp pence , And yet a place of great expence . Court is a maze of turnings strange , A laborinth , of working wits , A princely seate , subiect to change , Where Goddesse like , dame Pallas sits , A fountaine frozen hard as ice , Where cloked craft turnes oft the vice . The well and spring that cooles the thirst , And quencheth each consuming heat , The cooling carde that harts doth birst , The worme that life and lim doth eat , The gladsome gazing mirror bright , That showes brode day , but brings darke night . The field where fortune runs at bace , And showes foule play where she doth please , The parke , the forrest , and the chace , Where Dians Deere lodge safe at ease , The feasting house , where surfets breed , By tasting some things more than need . The soile where Venus built hir bowre , And Cupid shootes his shafts too fast , The onely grace of earthly powre , That was or is , and so shall last : The meane to make meane men to mount , Yet court of no man makes account . The path to hit prefarments right , But when or how , good hap must shoe . The torch that giues a flattring light , A blaze that quickly out will goe : The candle cleere of comforts all , Yet downe vntoucht , the snuffe will fall . The feeding hope of all good hap , Till want coms home with weeping eie , The smiling cloud where thunder clap Fals ratling from a pleasant skie , The calmy aire , that stormes doth hide , Till winde bewraies a blustring tide . The platform where all Poets thriue , Saue one whose voice is hoarse they say , The stage where time away we driue , As children in a pagent play , To please the lookers on somtime , With words , with bookes , in prose or rime . The mount where might and mercy dwels , The one may kill , the other saue , The spring that maintains many wels , Where thirsty throtes do water craue , The nurse that milke and pap may giue , To those that in great lack doth liue . The ciuill sword of worldly sway , That cuts off many a canker cleane , The head that secrets can bewray , And teach rash wits to keepe a meane The eie that sees both hie and loe , Much further than our feete can goe . The ground where plenty planted was , When bounties blossoms brought foorth frute , Then gold was but esteemd as glas The prince so freely gaue a sute : The onely spring and flowing spout , Where all good turnes came flowing out . The royall house of all repaire , Where subiects swarme , and still do run As thick as flies flocks to the aire , In sommers day when shines the sun , The paradise of earthly show , Where many goodly frutes do grow . The way to toull men on to spend , As profit straight should rise thereon , The ready rule to giue or lend , Play best be trust till all be gon : The place where promis is forgote , Or where faire words make fooles to dote . The ankor hold we trust vnto , If cord and cable do not breake , The gallant ship that may vndo With charge : most men whose purse is weake : The quiet port when tide coms in , For all bare barks that harbor win . The swelling sea where some do sinke , ( That waues and surges swallow vp ) The doubtfull banket where some drinke Their bane out of a spiced cup : The stage where many a part is plaid , That makes some lookers on afraid . The costly , sumptuous golden hall , That eats vp many a thatched hiue , The bulwarke and the brazen wall , Against whose state no force dare striue : The stay and prop to weakest things , And vnto man most comfort brings . The flowre and blossom of each land , That yeelds sweet sent like mirr or balme , Which doth not on base fortune stand , But safe in either storme or calme . O God that guides each fortune now , Preserue our court and kingdom throw . FINIS .

COurt cannot pleas , ech one that still doth craue No more than seas , can make all sailers ritch , Though few thereby , do gaine yet some may saue , And keepe a meane , if folly be not mitch , There foode is free , and all belongs to health , Fire , rest , and ease , and pleasures of the eie , Then for those ioies , who bids them spend their welth ? Or follow gaine , or waste their goods thereby ? If in one cloke , or sute a Lordship stands , Blame not the court , but blame vnthrifty hands . Though shining robes , becoms a Courtier well , Meane men may weare , good garments of small price . If waste will needes , his patrimony sell , Or play away , his lands at cards and dice , Court is not cause , of that expence and charge , No more than plow , and carts makes Farmars poore . If gallants gay , cuts their owne clokes too large , That they like brooms , sweepe rushes from the doore , Short capes in Court , were fitter for a shoe , In such light weeds , of yore did Courtiers goe . If men could sort , themselues in Court aright , The good may meete , as good as he therein , And stately Court , hates all lewd maners light , No coosning knack , can there no fauour win . Finenes and fraud , are often frownd at thear : Dissemblance shames , to show a double face , And though good wits , in Court can speake full fear , Rip iudgement soone , finds out a courtly grace , And will not be , ore reacht with shoe or signe Of wily heads , though they be ner so fine . Court is a well , and fountaine full of springs That runs to those , that watch their seasons due , Who to the cock , their empty bucket brings , When bounties streames , spouts water fresh and new . All cannot thriue , that daily sell and by , Some merchant prooues , bankrout ere he be ware : All shafts will not , against ill weather flie : They hit the marke , that cunning archers are : Court is not bound , to pleasure eury one : Court is a king , and subiect vnto none . If fauorits rise , dame Fortunes babes they bee Begot and bred , by sudden destnies lot , Lads that good hap , hath dandled on hir knee , Tooke all their pap , out of the sweete creame pot : The rest are faire , yoong children borne to soone , Or out of time , as many yoonglings bee No Planets birds , nor darlings of the Moone , Nor fixed stars , that stands in highst degree , But retrograde , in some aspects but base Falne fro the clouds , from Iupiters good grace . Though many names , to court these Poets giues , Whose fained Art , are full of fables vaine , When they themselues , by gifts of Princes liues And by the Court , their betters far do gaine , Court cares not for , their stretched termes nor muse , That in a moode , finds fault with this or that , Whose hie conceits , doth out their pen abuse , Which on the spleen , may write they know not what : Court thinks great scorne , to stoup or seem so weake , As answer make , to any word they speake . FINIS .

THe wars that marshall men do like , For countries cause was first begun , To shield and sword , to launce and pike , The lusty soldiers then would run , And glad was he in towne or field , Could force a forren foe to yeeld . No walls nor rampire could hold out A lions hart in manly minde , Men did in courage grow so stout , They traueld far hot wars to finde , And when these men abrode did rome , They brought great skill and knowledge home . Kings gaue them grace , and honor great , Fame sounded trumpet in their praise , World placst them in the highest seate , So that like gods they raignd those daise : Yea honord , made of , and extold Aboue the woorth of pearle or gold . By them great empires did encrease , Kingdoms were woon , and conquerd all , They held vp wars , they made the peace , They had the world at becke and call : The sword subdues , and makes them slaues , That stands vpon their greatest braues . Long in this course did soldiers liue , Beloud and feard as victors are , They felt no want , but had to giue , The people tooke of them such care . Kings and their treasure eury way Kept noble soldiers from decay . But when that kings from bounty fell , And made but wars for their owne gaine , The wars were then , a second hell , Pleasure therein , was turnd to paine : Profit was gone , honor lay lame ; And soldiers sought no more for fame . Yet countries cause mooud men to fight , As hirelings worke for wages still , But take esteem , once from a knight , You lose his hart , and warme good will , Then after money doth he looke , And licks his fingers like a cooke . When kings forget to giue good turns For good desarts : then soldier shrinks , The lampe of loue , but dimly burns , And God doth know , what soldier thinks : All one we liue ( both daies and weekes ) By loue as larks do liue by leekes . Wars now is worse , than walking horse , For like a hackney tied at rack , Old soldier so ( who wanteth force ) Must learne to beare a pedlers pack , And trudge to some good market towne , So from a knight become a clowne . As good serue sowter in his shop , As follow wars , that beggry brings , Nay play the childe , and driue the top Or fauor many fonder things , And thriue there by , seemes better far , That run a gadding to the war . Wars wins the workman scarce his bread , A fig for fame , if that be all , Wars quickly gets a broken head , And gaines no better fruit at all , But when good blood is wasted out , Into the ioints , wars thrusts the gout . Lame lims and legs , and mangled bones , Wars brings a man vnwares God wot , With priuy pangs , sad sighes and grones , Then come to court where nought is got , Saue s●auls and shels when kernell sweete The hogs haue , trampling vnder feete . If fiue and forty sons I had , Not one to court nor wars should goe , Except that some of them were mad , So prooud both where I would or noe : But wars of all the arts that is , Stands most from hap or heauens blisse . Wars is a woorme in conshence still , That gnawes the guts and hart in twaine , Who goes to wars must make his will , For feare he coms not home againe : But at his welcom home in deed , He gets but words , so starues at need . Or at court gate must sit and watch , Like goodman Cockscom keeping croes , Go supperles to bed like Patch , Or for his lodging gage his cloes : A warme reward , a whip , a whood Would do a silly foole more good . Sell house and land , to follow drom , And so bring home an empty bag , Then like bare Tom of Bedlem com , With broken breech and many a rag : And see what pity world will take On thee for thy great seruice sake . Keepe that thou hast is counsell good , What wars may win thinke that is lost , For prince do hazard life and blood , If enmies breath but on this cost : Shun other wars as from a snake , Whose sting a mortall wound will make . Wars is but cald the scourge of God , A plague for man , and each things foe , A whisking wand , a cruell rod , That drawes out blood at eury bloe : A fearfull bug , a cursed feend , That driues good daies and yeers to eend . If dyuels dance when drum doth sound , And saints do weepe , where blood is shed , If wars doth shake the heauy ground , Whereon fish , fowle , and beasts are bred : O wars packe hence , and run away , From me and all my friends this day . For where thou goest all plagues repaire , All mischeeues march , all sorrowes swim , All filthy facts , infects the aire , All sin and vice is at the brim : All dearth and famin are aflote , And all or most , haue God forgote . Fie , fly from wars , as from a fire That all burns vp , or kils in haste , Spoiles and robs all , leaues all in mire , Consumeth all , brings all to waste : Yet when the wars rules all like king , Wars is himselfe , a beggry thing . But if proud wars , begin to brall , And quarrels picks , to wrong our right , Then clap on armes , corslets and all , To put a wrangling foe to flight : And make them run like rats away , That robs our cheese house eury day . Loe knights , how plaine poore poets shifts , In scambling world to scowre the coast , With rimes , and sends such new yeers gifts , From sicke mans couch to court in poast : Where this may make a merry hed , To smile before he goes to bed . FINIS .

WElth , pomp and pride , with malice of the mind Bred wars & broils , between two brethren furst , The one feard God , the other most vnkind , For his foule fact , in world was held accurst . Though wars began , throw pride and great offence , As rods are made , to scourge leud vicious life , Yet fearfull wars , hath wrought great goodnes sence , And planted peace , where was but blooddy strife : Wars makes men looke , to soule and body too , Which in no sort , proud peace can neuer doo . Who sees but death , and danger feareth God , A greater feare , no man aliue may haue , As horse fears whip , and scholler fears the rod , So sword is feard , that quickly brings a graue . Wars makes men meeke , vertuous , valiant and wise , Hardy and bold , forward , faithfull and true , Goodnes imbrace , and villany despise , Killeth old vice , and forms a man anue : Quickneth the sprites , and kindleth courage still , That else growes cold , weake , resty , dull and ill . Wars is no trade , for milksops , dawes and dolts , Meacocks of kinde , and cowards from their birth , A spur for old Iades , a snaffle for yoong colts , For lusty lads , the greatest ioy on earth , Breeds gallants vp , puts lions harts in men , Breathes blood and life , into a trembling brest , Makes hand draw sword , and fling away the pen , Mount a great horse , and clap the launce in rest , And woonders do , as Samson did in feeld , Whose stoutnes made , the proud Philistines yeeld . Wars wisely made , Brings triumph to the towne , Sends victors out , to fetch great wealth from far , Keepes kings in seat , giues honor to the crowne , And no great fame is found where is no war . Set wars aside , bid men go spin and card , Distaffs are fine , when launce is flung away , Make no more knights , let cowards be prefard , Set lowts aworke , bid soldiers then go play : So pluck downe wars , and set vp Robin Whood , Or Iohn a Stile , that near did countrey good . Wars was a wand , for wantons that were wilde , It made them tame , and greater maruels wrought , But where you see , that wars are clean exilde , Stout people faint , and kingdom coms to naught : Venus and lust , are great togither still , Right taketh wrong , and reason rules no whit , Weake knees must bow , strong head will haue his wil , And bayard blinde , in teeth doth take the bit : Thus want of wars , confounds a woorthy state , And breeds at home , both quarrels and debate . Wars was and is , and shall be till worlds end , Till iudgement day , you shall haue little peace , You say it is , a scourge that God doth send , A common plague for sin that shall not seace , Thinke so and make of wars your profit then , For soule at least . thus wars ve ought to loue , Bicause wars doth reforme the faults of men , And by sharpe means , it doth his pashence proue : If such effects , a blooddy wars brings foorth , When wars doth com , do take it well in woorth . FINIS .

A COMMENDATION TO ALL THOSE , THAT EITHER BY INVENTION OF WIT , STVDY OF MINDE , TRAVEL of body , expences of purse , or hazard of life , seekes the aduauncement of their Prince and countrey . THe world throwout , breeds men of sundry kinds , Som of great spreet , great skil and deep engine , Som meane and base , and som of noble minds , Som grosse of wit , and som most rare and fine , As gifts of grace , and nature shapes them forth , To show themselues , in actions men of worth . Som plant and graffe , and still manures the ground , Gains much thereby , as labrer liues by toile , Som loues to saile , about the world so round , To search what may , be seen in eury soile : Som trudge to wars , and far abrode they rome , For knowledge sake , to serue their prince at home . Som haue delite , to build and purchase still , Thus all haue not , one motion , mind nor will . But such that seekes , for fame in forren place , Forsakes great ease , & welth where they were bred , Are speshall men , and do deserue more grace , Than all the rest , what euer may be sed . Leaues wife and friends , to try the tumbling seas , Makes open sale , of life and all they haue , Are men that may , both prince and countrey pleas , Who shall of right , be honord to their graue . Then step in place , sir WALTER RAWLEGH now , Show foorth thy face , among the woorthiest sort , Thy trauell long , thy charge and labor throw , Crowns thy great pains , with prais and good report . Bid enuy blush , for vertue hits the white , Malice may barke , but hath no powre to bite . World babbles much , but wit doth all behold , The touchstone must , at length try out the gold . Who reads his booke , and waies what he hath don , Shall sound his fame , as far as shines the sun . FINIS .