V. MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS. THIS excellent philosophical song appears to have been famous in the sixteenth century. It is quoted by Ben Jonson in his play of Every Man out of his Humour, first acted in 1599, Act i. Sc. i. My minde to me a kingdome is; Such perfect joy therein I finde As farre exceeds all earthly blisse, That God or Nature hath assignde: Though much I want, that most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave. Content I live, this is my stay; I seek no more than may suffice: I see how plentie surfets oft, And hastie clymbers soonest fall: I see that such as sit aloft Mishap doth threaten most of all: No princely pompe, nor welthie store, No shape to winne a lovers eye; Some have too much, yet still they crave, I little have, yet scek no more: I laugh not at anothers losse, I grudge not at anothers gaine; No worldly wave my mind can tosse, I brooke that is anothers bane: I feare no foe, nor fawne on friend; I joy not in no earthly blisse, I weigh not Cresus' welth a straw; I feare not fortunes fatall law: I wish but what I have at will; I wander not to seeke for more; In greatest stormes I sitte on shore, I kisse not where I wish to kill; I feigne not love where most I hate; I wayte not at the mighties gate; The court, ne cart, I like, ne loath; Extreames are counted worst of all: Doth surest sit, and fears no fall: My welth is health, and perfect ease; My conscience clere my chiefe de fence: I never seeke by brybes to please, Nor by desert to give offence: VI. THE PATIENT COUNTESS. THE subject of this tale is taken from an entertaining colloquy of Erasmus. The following stanzas are extracted from William Warner's poem, entitled Albion's England. Warner is said to have been a Warwickshire man, and to have been educated in Oxford at Magdalen Hall. He died in 1608-1609, at Amwell in Hertfordshire. He held a fair rank as poet in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and was by profession an "attorney of the Common Pleas." IMPATIENCE chaungeth smoke to flame, Some wives by patience have reduc'd Ill husbands to live well: As did the ladie of an earle, Of whom I now shall tell. An earle "there was " had wedded, lov'd; Was lov'd, and lived long Once hunted he untill the chace, Long fasting, and the heat Did house him in a peakish graunge Within a forest great. Where knowne and welcom'd (as the place Browne bread, whig, bacon, curds and Were set him on the borde. A cushion made of lists, a stoole The poore old couple wisht their bread Mean while (in russet neatly clad, With linen white as swanne, Herselfe more white, save rosie where Whome naked nature, not the aydes The good man's daughter sturres to see Yet fals he to their homely fare, But as his hunger slaked, so An amorous heat increast. When this repast was past, and thanks, The hearing of the mayd : Yee know, quoth he, that I am lord And I can spare you pownes. Soe will I, so yee will consent, May bargaine for her love; at least, Doe give me leave to trye. First they mislike, yet at the length And then the gamesome earle did wowe He took her in his armes, as yet So coyish to be kist, As mayds that know themselves belov'd, In few, his offers were so large She lastly did consent; With whom he lodged all that night, And early home he went. He tooke occasion oftentimes In such a sort to hunt. And lastly was informed of His amorous haunt elsewhere; It greev'd her not a little, though She seem'd it well to beare. And thus she reasons with herselfe, Some fault perhaps in me; How may I winne him to myself? To checke him were to make him checke,* Although hee now were chaste; A man controuled of his wife, To her makes lesser haste. If duty then, or daliance may I will be dutifull, and make So was she, and so lovingly Did entertaine her lord, As fairer, or more faultles none Could be for bed or bord. Yet still he loves his leiman, and Did still pursue that game, Suspecting nothing less, than that His lady knew the same: To check is a term in falconry, applied when a hawk stops and turns away from his proper pursuit; to check also signifies to reprove or chide. It is in this verse used in both senses. Wherefore to make him know she knew, She this devise did frame: When long she had been wrong'd, and sought The foresayd meanes in vaine, She rideth to the simple graunge But with a slender traine. She lighteth, entreth, greets them well, Did wish themselves without her; The lesse they did misdoubt her. When she had seen the beauteous wench Who would not bite at such a bait? Thought she; and who (though loth) So poore a wench, but gold might tempt? Sweet errors lead them both. Scarse one in twenty that had bragg'd Of proffer'd gold denied, Or of such yeelding beautie baulkt, Thus thought she and she thus declares Hath often lodged in your house; I bring his owne, and come myselfe With that two sumpters were discharg'd, When all was handsomly dispos'd, And, Damsell, quoth shee, for it seemes Do me that good, else would to God So tooke she horse, and ere she went Full little thought the countie that No sooner sat he foote within 'The late deformed cote, But that the formall change of things His wondring eies did note. But when he knew those goods to be His proper goods; though late, Scarce taking leave, he home returnes The matter to debate. The countesse was a-bed, and he Sir, welcome home (quoth shee); this night For you I did not looke. Then did he question her of such Your love to be a proper wench, Well wot I, notwithstanding her, Your lordship loveth me; Then for my duty, your delight, Expect your wonted 'haviour. Her patience, witte and answer wrought When (kissing her a score of times) Amend, sweet wife, I shall : He said, and did it; "so each wife VII.-DOWSABELL. THE following stanzas were written by Michael Drayton,* a poet of some eminence in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth, James I., and Charles I. They are inserted in one of his pastorals, and are inscribed with the author's name at length, "To the noble · and valerous gentleman master Robert Dudley," etc. FARRE in the countrey of Arden, As bolde as Isenbras: Fell was he, and eger bent, As was the good Sir Topas. He had, as antique stories tell, * Drayton was born in 1563, and died in 1631. K The silke well couth she twist and twine, And make the fine march-pine, And with the needle werke: And she couth helpe the priest to say And sing a psalme in kirke. She ware a frock of frolicke greene, A hood to that so neat and fine, Her features all as fresh above, As is the grasse that growes by Dove ; Her skin as soft as Lemster wooll, Or swanne that swims in Trent. This mayden in a morne betime To deck her summer hall. Thus, as she wandred here and there, Y-picking of the bloomed breere, She chanced to espie A shepheard sitting on a bancke, He lear'd his sheepe as he him list, To feede about him round; Whilst he full many a carroll sung, Untill the fields and medowes rung, And all the woods did sound. In favour this same shepheards swayne Was like the bedlam Tamburlayne,* Which helde prowd kings in awe : *Alluding to Tamburlaine the Great, or the Scythian Shepheard, 1590, 8vo, an old ranting play ascribed to Marlowe. But meeke he was as lamb mought be; An innocent of ill as he Whom his lewd brother slaw. The shepheard ware a sheepe-gray cloke, Which was of the finest loke, That could be cut with sheere: His mittens were of bauzens skinne, His cockers were of cordiwin, His hood of meniveere. His aule and lingell in a thong, And pyping still he spent the day, Which liked Dowsabel : That would she ought, or would she nought, This lad would never from her thought; She in love-longing fell. At length she tucked up her frocke, Thy sheepe, quoth she, cannot be leane, The which can pipe so well : Yea but, sayth he, their shepheard may, If pyping thus he pine away In love of Dowsabel. Of love, fond boy, take thou no keepe, Come forth to gather maye. With that she gan to vaile her head, |