Pleasant dialogues and dramma's, selected out of Lucian, Erasmus, Textor, Ovid, &c. With sundry emblems extracted from the most elegant Iacobus Catsius. As also certaine elegies, epitaphs, and epithalamions or nuptiall songs; anagrams and acrosticks; with divers speeches (upon severall occasions) spoken to their most excellent Majesties, King Charles, and Queene Mary. With other fancies translated from Beza, Bucanan, and sundry Italian poets. By Thomas Heywood

The DIALOGUE.

Anthon.

THou tel'st me wondrous things; Is that to saile, Where humane helpe so little can preuaile? Forbid it Heav'n, to come into my thought, That euer Wit so dearely should be bought.

Adol.

What hath as yet been spoke are trifles meere, If to what I shall speake thou lend an eare.

Anth.

So much from thee I haue already had, That I still tremble, and it makes me sad, As I had then been present.

Adol.

Dangers past Are vnto me of much more pleasing tast: That night there hapned what much tooke away All comfort from the Pilot.

Anth.

What, I pray?

Adol.

Dark was the night; when by the top-mast stand (Got thither by the help of feet and hands) One of the ship-men, and as from a loover He lookt from thence, if so he might discouer Some part of land: when on the instant, neare Vnto his side was seen a fiery Spheare; To Sea-men a sad Omen, if it shine Single: but twinnes, they better lucke divine: And in the times of old they call'd such too Castor and Pollux.

Anth.

What had they to do With Mariners? since those we understand Were Champions both, and vs'd to fight on land.

Adol.

The Poets so would haue it. He at th' sterne Casting his eye vp did the light discerne: Who calling said, My Mate (It is a word That Sailers interchangeably afford To one another) speake, dost thou not see The fire aboue that clings so close to thee? Who answer'd thus: I do, and I pray God That vnto vs it no misfortune boad. The flaming Globe straight by the tackles slid, And came close to the Pilot.

Anth.

I! But did Not he sinke downe with feare?

Adol.

The fright he' endur'd,

They being to such prodigies inur'd. There hauing staid a while, by the ship sides It rowles it selfe, but there not long abides, But leaping from the hatches, vanisht so. Towards mid-day the tempest 'gan to grow More and more raging. Didst thou euer see The Alps?

Anth.

I haue.

Adol.

Those hills appeare to bee But warts to such sea billowes, (if compar'd:) Be judge then, how with us it that time far'd; How often were we lifted vp so high, Till to the very Moone we came so nigh, To touch it with our fingers. Then againe So low cast, that the Channell rent in twaine, To let vs downe to Hell.

Anth.

Mad men, no doubt, Who leaue the land, to seeke such dangers out.

Adol.

The Sailers striuing with the Storme some space, (But all in vaine) the Pilot with a face Like ashes, came to vs.

Anth.

And now I feare, By his wan colour, some strange mischiefe neare.

Adol.

I am no more your Pilot now

(saith he)

My friends, the Windes command both ship and me: Prepare for all extremes, there's now no hope Saue in our God, no trust in Saile or Rope.

Anth.

('Twas an hard speech.)

Adol.

First therefore let vs ease Our ship

(saith he)

by casting in the seas Her weighty lading; for so now commands Necessitie: It with more safety stands, By losse of goods, death present to preuent, Than with them perish here incontinent. The truth persuades them; Instantly they hoise ••nto the Maine, rich Wares, and Vessels choise, And those in plenty.

Anth.

This a Wracke indeed May well be call'd.

Adol.

Silence till I proceed. Amongst the rest, a rich Italian there, Imployd in Embassy, who was to beare Some Presents into Scotland, and this Lord Had coffers, caskets, and stuft trunks abord, With plate, rings, Iewels, change of garments.

Anth.

Say, Was that man willing to cast all away?

Adol.

No: but being askt that question, made reply, He with his wealth would liue, or with it dy; And therefore storm'd.

Anth.

What said the Pilot then?

Adol.

Better it were, of these despairing men, That he alone should perish, than (to saue His proper wealth) all suffer in the waue: And therefore told him plainly, But if hee Vnto the generall safety would agree, (Need so compeld) that without further plea, Him and his wealth they'd tosse into the sea.

Anth.

A very Sailers speech.

Adol.

So, forc't at last, With his owne hands his goods away he cast, With many bitter curses; much inrag'd With gods and divels, that he had ingag'd Himselfe to such a barbarous element.

Anth.

A meere Italians pray'r.

Adol.

Obserue th'euent: (These our free-offrings notwithstanding) neither The windes nor waues were sated, but together Conspir'd: Our tackles were asunder blowne, And our torne sailes into the Ocean throwne,

Anth.

Distresse indeed.

Adol.

The Pilot comes againe.

Anth.

To preach as at the first?

Adol.

In a sad straine He thus salutes vs: Friends, as the case stands, I wish you would commend you to heav'ns hands, And so prepare for death. Some who had been At sea before, and in that Art well seen, Askt him, How long he thought he could maintaine His ship to liue? who briefely said againe, Not full three houres, (as being then at worst)

Anth.

Why this was harder doctrine than the first.

Adol.

Which hauing said, the Sailers he straight bid To cut the cords asunder: which they did. And next, To saw the main-Mast by the root: Who instantly apply themselues vntoo't; Which, with the saile and saile-yard, they soone threw Into the sea.

Anth.

Why so?

Adol.

Because they knew, Bee'ng torne, a burthen they might rather call Their sailes, than helpe, (now of no vse at all) For all their hope was in the helme,

Anth.

Meane space, What did the passengers?

Adol.

A wretched face Of things you now might see: Some then in place Began to sing, Haile Mary full of Grace; And the blest Virgin Mother to implore: She, who plaine Mary had been call'd before, They now stile, The Seas Star, The Queen of heav'n, The Lady of the world: Titles not giv'n To her in sacred Scriptures.

Anth.

I indeed Neuer that she at sea was yet could reed.

Adol.

But Venus (I haue heard) once tooke no scorne To haue the charge of Sailers, (as sea-borne.) But thinking she had quite giv'n vp her care; All their Devotions now directed are In stead of her, a mother, and no maid,

Her that was Maid and Mother, to persuade.

Anth.

Come now you jest.

Adol.

Some of them prostrat lie Vpon the hatches, and for succor crie Vnto the Storme, and (as had they been mad) pour'd out into the Maine what oile they had; Flattring the raging billowes of the seas, As if some angry pow'r they would appease.

Anth.

What did they say?

Adol.

O Sea most mercifull, O generous Sea, ô Sea most beautifull, O you the most rich Channels of the Deepe Saue vs, haue mercy, vs preserue and keepe.

Anth.

Ridiculous superstition. What the rest?

Adol.

Their stomacks some disgorg'd; one in his brest Was meditating Vowes. An English man (I well remember) said, O if I can But get to land safe, Pilgrimage I'l frame Vnto the blessed Maid of Walsinghame; And promis'd golden mountaines. Others vow'd To such a Crosse: but that some disallow'd. And nam'd another in a remoat place Thence many countries distant. In like case They with the Virgin Mary dealt, who raignes In sundry Regions: and since need constraines, They pray to her, but thinke they are not heard, Vnlesse they name some Temple to her rear'd.

Anth.

Vaine were such Orisons, since the Saints dwell In heav'n aboue.

Adol.

Some said, If they came well And safe to shore, Carthusians they would bee. One promis'd, If the sea he once could free, Bare foot and bare head, naked saue his shirt, And that of male close to his body girt, Nay, begging all the way, vow'd, steps hee'd tell To where Saint Iames yet liues in Compostell.

Anth.

Did none thinke of Saint Christopher?

Adol.

I heard Not without laughter) one to him indear'd: He in the chiefe Church of Lutetia stands, More like a mountaine than a man) his hands Lift vp: who with a voice strep'rous and loud That all they in the ship might heare him) vow'd To set before that Saint a waxen Light Big as himselfe. To whom one that fore-right Before him sate, (well knowne to him) reply'd, After he first had jogg'd him on the side) Take heed friend what you promise; should you sell Your whole estate, which is to me knowne well, You cannot make it good. He then in feare, Lest him perchance S. Christopher might heart) Answer'd in a low voice, Peace foole be still, Think'st thou my words are suting to my will; ••f once I finde safe landing may be had, I'l of a farthing candle make him glad.

Anth.

O stupid braine! Some Hollander?

Adol.

None such: He was of Zeeland sure.

Anth.

I wonder much, None that time of th' Apostle Paul did thinke; For he was wrackt, and when the ship did sinke, Got to the shore) who knowing shipwracke best, Would soone haue helpt them in that kinde distrest.

Adol.

Of him there was no mention.

Anth.

Did they pray?

Adol.

Yes; and at once some sung, and some did say Haile Virgin: others, their Beleefe: some mutter'd Certaine peculiar pray'rs, as had they vtter'd Soft Magicke spells' gainst danger.

Anth.

How distresse Makes men deuout? when they thinke nothing lesse Than of their God, if fortune seeme to smile,

Or of his Saints. But what didst thou the while? Vowd'st thou to none of them?

Adol.

No.

Anth.

Why?

Adol.

Because Cov'nants with Saints made, are still with some clause After the forme of Contract: This I giue, If thou performe: If at this time I liue, Then such a thing I'l do; I'l at thy Shrine Offer a Taper, if I scape the Brine; Or if thou keepst me, vnto Rome I'l go On Pilgrimage.

Anth.

But to none prayd'st thou?

Adol.

No.

Anth.

Shew me the cause?

Adol.

I thought, Heav'n far extended: To any one Saint should I haue commended My safety, say Saint Peter, who bee'ng neare Vnto the doore, most likely was to heare; Before he could haue left the gate, to finde where God was, or deliver'd him my minde, I might haue perisht.

Anth.

What then didst thou do?

Adol.

Tooke the next course, and did direct vnto The Father my Deuotions, and began, Father which art in heav'n, &c. I perceiv'd than, None of the Saints could sooner heare, nor any Abler to saue or helpe, though they be many.

Anth.

Did not thy conscience pricke thee the mean time Remembring with how many an hainous crime Thou hadst offended him?

Adol.

Shall I speake true? Part of my confident boldnesse it withdrew; But straight it thus in my conception runne: No Father is so angry with his Sonne, But if he spy him in a brooke or lake,

Ready to drowne, hee'l by the haire him take, And plucke him from the danger. 'Mongst the rest, A woman who a childe had at her brest Then sucking, in that feare seem'd troubled least.

Anth.

And what did she?

Adol.

Nor clamor loud, nor weepe; Nor promise what she neuer meant to keepe: Only embrac'd her infant, softly pray'd Vnto her selfe, none hearing what she sayd. Meane time the Barke inclining neere the shore, The Master fearing lest she would be tore And split to pieces; her with cables bound From helme to the fore-decke.

Anth.

Comfort vnsound.

Adol.

Vp then a sacrificing Priest arose, Ag'd sixty yeares, through doublet and through hose His torne shirt seene,

(call'd Adam)

who his shooes That had no soles) cast off, and 'gins to vnloose His wretched habit; bidding all prepare Themselues to swim, who of their liues had care. And standing on the decke, begins to preach Alowd to vs, and out of Gerson teach Five truths; what profit from Confession growes, Wishing we would make ready to dispose Our selues to life or death. Then present there Was a Dominican Frier of looke austere, To whom some few confest themselues.

Anth.

But what didst thou mean space?

Adol.

I well perceiuing, that All things were full of tumult, soone confest My selfe to God, 'gainst whom I had transgrest; Blaming mine owne injustice, and commended My selfe to him, whom I had most offended.

Anth.

Hadst thou then perisht, whither hadst thou gon?

Adol.

That I committed vnto God alone,

As most vnwilling mine owne judge to be: And yet a faire hope did still comfort me. Whilst these things past, the Pilot came againe, With his cies full of teares, and saith, In vaine We striue 'gainst heav'n: each man himselfe prepare; The shaken ship in which distrest we are Cannot the fourth part of an houre well last, At sundry leaks the water poures so fast. Soone after he brings newes he did descry A Chappell afar off: bids vs apply Our pray'rs, the small space that the ship still floated, Vnto that Saint to whom it was deuoted: When suddenly most part are groueling throwne, Deuoutly praying to the Saint vnknowne.

Anth.

Had they but nam'd him, he would sure haue heard

Adol.

But that they knew not. Then the Pilot steard His torne ship that way, ready now to sinke, (Such quantitie of water forc't to drinke) And split she had in pieces in that weather, Had not the cables bound her fast together.

Anth.

'Twas an hard case.

Adol.

It drawing now towards even, Vpon the sudden we so far were driven Towards the coast, that vs th' inhabitants spy'de, And seeing our extremes, call'd out and cry'de; And with their hats vpon their staues end, stand Pointing to vs the safest place to land: Then with their armes stretcht out, seeme to deplore Our wretched case, distrest so neare the shore.

Anth.

I long to know what happen'd.

Adol.

Our Barke now Had tooke in so much water, that I vow There hardly any diffrence could be knowne, Because the ship and sea appear'd all one.

Anth.

To th' holy Anchor it was time to flye.

Adol.

And yet small comfort, seeing death so nye.

The Sailers hoise the boat, and let it downe ••••to the Sea: then there's a tumult growne, ••ho should presse soonest in. Some gan t' exclaime, ••rying, Why throng you thus? Be rul'd for shame; ••he Boat's but small, and were you not thus rude, ••ncapable of such a multitude. They bid them search, and what came neerest, get ••o saue themselues. When now there was no let, ••ut ev'ry one, that which came next him snatches: One lights vpon a piece of the torne hatches: ••n empty barrell he: another takes •• planke: that man a pole: and none but makes ••ome shift or other: so themselues commit ••nto the sea.

Anth.

You haue not told me yet, What of the woman and the childe became, ••he only that was heard not to exclaime.

Adol.

She got to shore first.

Anth.

Tell me how that past?

Adol.

Her to a crooked planke we ty'de so fast, That hardly she could slide thence: in whose hand We put a boord (such as she might command) ••n stead of a small oare: then hauing prayd ••or her successe, as she was thereon layd, Expos'd her to the waues, and with a speare, Thrust her from off the ship, which now was neare Hid in the sea, her infant she bestow'd ••n her left arme, and with her right hand row'd.

Anth.

A stout Virago.

Adol.

When nought else remain'd, One snatcheth an old Image, blur'd and stain'd, Part of it eat with rats, which once presented The mother Virgin: and with that contented, Begins to swim.

Anth.

But came the boat to shore?

Adol.

They were the first that perisht, none before;

For thirty had therein together got.

Anth.

By what ill chance was that?

Adol.

'Twas their hard lot; For e're they from the ship themselues could free, The weake boat split, and sunke immediatly.

Anth.

A sad disaster: But what then?

Adol.

I cherisht Others, and had my selfe like to haue perisht.

Anth.

As how?

Adol.

I stayd till nothing did appeare Helpfull to swim.

Anth.

Corke had been vsefull there.

Adol.

I tell thee Friend, iust at that instant space I'de rather had a Corke tree to embrace, Than a rich golden Candlesticke. About Looking, to spy what best I could finde out, I soone bethought me of the poore remaine Of the split Mast, at which I tugg'd in vaine; And therefore call'd an helper. We combine Our double strength, and both to it incline, Trusting our selues to sea; and in that fright He by the left part holds: I take the right. Thus by the billowes tost, the Predicant, whom I nam'd before, iust at our backs did come, And threw himselfe vpon vs: like an hulke To us he seem'd, being of a mighty bulke. Wherewith much troubled, both aloud 'gan call, Who is that third who meanes to drowne vs all? He gently vs bespake, and bad vs bee Of comfort, there was roome enough for three.

Anth.

But wherefore did he leaue the ship so late?

Adol.

He purpos'd in the boat to try his fate With the Dominican Frier; the rest to grace Their Orders, willing to afford them place. But though they both were in the ship confest, Belike forgetting some word 'mongst the rest,

They fell to it againe, and somewhat s'ed ••aying ones hand vpon the others head: ••eane time the boat sunke, by the waues controld: For so much, after, to me Adam told.)

Anth.

But what of the Dominican became? ••e, first invoking sundry Saints by name. So Adam said) did strip himselfe to th' skin; And hauing left his cloathes behinde, leapt in.

Anth.

What Saints did he invoke? ••e named (thick, ••s fast as he could speake) S. Dominick, ••aint Thomas, and Saint Vincent, and one Peter, I know not which) but one she-Saint, with sweeter ••nd fairer words hee'ntreated; and her name, ••atherine Senensis, she, it seem'd, the same To whom he trusted most.

Anth.

I, but Christs aid ••mplor'd he not at all?

Adol.

So the Priest said.

Anth.

Me thinks he better might haue far'd that day, Had he not cast his holy hood away. For being naked like another man, ••ow could the Saint know the Dominican? Touching thy selfe proceed.

Adol.

Whilst we were tost Neere to the barke, still fearing to be lost, Part of the sterne then floating, burst his thigh, Who held the left part of the mast, whilst I Made good the right: who soone his hold lets slip, And so was drown'd. Into whose place doth skip Adam the Priest, repeating a short prayer That his soule (then departing) well might fare; Exhorting me to be of courage bold, ••tretch out my legs, and with my hands keepe hold: Mean time we drunke much brine out of the Ocean, Twas not a salt bath only, but salt potion.

(So Neptune then would haue it) for which he (Adam I meane) would shew a remedie.

Anth.

And what was that?

Adol.

Still as he spy'de the waue To come vpon vs, he himselfe to saue, Oppos'd it with the hinde part of his head, Keeping his mouth fast shut.

Anth.

I neuer read Of a more stout old fellow.

Adol.

Floating long, And mouing somewhat onward, he bee'ng strong, And wondrous tall, saith to me, Be of cheare, For by my foot I finde the ground is neare. But I that time more timerous and afraid, (Hoping no such good fortune) to him said, Most certaine we are farther from the shore, Than to hope land. He now incourag'd more, Saith to me, With my foot I touch the sand. Perhaps, said I, some chest driv'n neere the land, Wrought thither by the sea. He affirmes No, And saith, the ground he toucheth with his to. We still were tost, and he againe feeles shore: Do what thou wilt

(then said)

for here no more I'le trust my selfe, but towards land make hast; So farewell, for I'le leaue thee to thy mast. Then watching when the waue began to breake, With speed pursues it, and no more would speake: But as the billow (shrinking backe) he sees, With either hand embracing both his knees, He waits for it, drencht ouer head and eares, (As Ducks or sea-Birds) and againe appeares When the waue's past, and runnes. Finding his fate So well succeed, I thought to imitate Him in his course: There stood vpon the sands Some people with long javelins in their hands, Men strong and vs'd to stormes; these reacht their sta••

To ev'ry faint hand that their succor craues. ••ho catching hold, some by that means they drew ••fe to the shore.

Anth.

How many of that Crew?

Adol.

Seven only, of which, two brought to the fire, ••ut feeling warmth, did instantly expire.

Anth.

How many were i'th ship?

Adol.

Iust fifty eight.

Anth.

O cruell sea, to ruine such a freight. I might with the tenths at most haue been suffis'd, ••riests aske no more when they are best advis'd. ••ut of so great a number did so few Escape the Wracke?

Adol.

I speake it who best knew: And there we found a remarkt approbation Of a most generous and indulgent Nation; Who with alacritie and much cheare gaue ••arbor, meat, drinke, with all things we could craue.

Anth.

What country?

Adol.

Holland.

Anth.

None I take to bee More generous, fuller of humanitie, Though girt with barbarous countries. But I feare Thou'lt not to sea in haste.

Adol.

Troth not this yeare, No nor the next: I'le be no more such pray, Vnlesse (quite mad) Heav'n take my wits away.

Anth.

For such discourses I so little loue them, That I had rather heare them far, than proue them.

Notes

• It is commonly called the Bowland.
• Or Pari