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A18752
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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.
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Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.
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1596
(1596)
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STC 5249; ESTC S105042
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8,064
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24
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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 VVhen 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 VVars 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 VVars 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 VVars brings a man vnwares God wot VVith priuy pangs sad sighes and grones Then come to court where nought is got Saue sâ—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 VVith 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 VVhat 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 VVhose sting a mortall wound will make VVars 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 VVhereon 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 VVars 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 VVith rimes and sends such new yeers gifts From sicke mans couch to court in poast VVhere 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 aud 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 VVho shall of right be honord to their graue Then step in place sir VVALTER 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 VVorld babbles much but wit doth all behold The touchstone must at length try out the gold VVho reads his booke and waies what he hath don Shall sound his fame as far as shines the sun FINIS
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 VVhen 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 VVealth 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 VVhere 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 VVhere hatreds egs brings foorth their broode A place of pompe and perill both VVhere 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 VVhere many smarts are cloked fine A glasse of steele in some od case VVhere 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 VVhere Goddesse like dame Pallas sits A fountaine frozen hard as ice VVhere 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 VVhere 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