thicke and thinne and after lye in strawe And feede on what thei finde but loe plaine countreymen Doeth saie our horse eats vp their corne and Coignie now and then Maks wife and children crie and leaus the lande full bare T is hard to knowe if commons poore or soldiours feels moste care The greef so common is that eche one beares a peece And God he knowes who licks the fatte or shears awaie the flece But now to tell the toile and trauaill soldiours take To those that knowes not what it means it would a wonder make For who that there can serue and suffer what doeth fall Maie bide the bront of any warre in Christen Kyngdoms all The strength and straits are suche that men must passe somtyme The rocks and mountains are so straunge whereon the soldiours clime Thei can not well be tolde nor numbred here a right And touchyng mightie woods and boggs I could name suche a sight As would you wearie make to read or looke vpon And who demaunds the trothe of those that hath the iourneis gon Shall heare a thousande thyngs whiche worthie is the note The labor paine and proofe thereof will neuer be forgote Some feels it in their ioynts and shall whiels liues thei beare And so be bolde who tries that soile maie venter any where For toile doeth daiely growe amidde that troubled lande But how the cause thereof doth rise with wisedome bee it scande To heare the people crie and see their bare estate Would sure moue tears in any eye that doeth the countrey hate I can but wishe them well my duetie claims the same For that thei are our neighbors nere and ought with equall name Like subiects liue with vs for since one Prince wee haue One minde maner should we shew good order that doeth craue The hande doeth loue the arme and arme with leggs agree And all the ioynts the bodie bears in perfite peace must bee So head shall well bee serude but where those members iarre There wil burst out some bold abuse some braule or irksom warre Though Irelande hath bin long in moste vnquiet cace It wil be well when God shall plant in peoples harts his grace I hope to see that daie and that in season short That my plain pen shall finde greate cause to yelde them good report FINIS THE TROBLES of Scotlande IF Flaunders Fraunce or Portugall compare With Scotlande now for trobles straunge it were For that is soile of sorrowe and of care And cheefest seate of sadnesse any where That ofte hath had within it self suche stoore As spoilde the lande and kept the countrey poore And when that warrs awhile had taken leaue And woe bade want to laie doune speare and sheelde The one by sleight the other would deceaue And than sharpe sworde should plead the case in feelde Yea in the house short dagger did the deede When murther might serue tyme or turne for neede And nousled thus thei were God wot in blood In rage thei would not spare ne hye nor lowe Not one might buye his life for worldly good If murthryng hands were bent to giue the blowe Their hainous actes sufficient proofe doeth showe I neede not name the persons thei haue flaine For slaughters crie through highest clouds doeth goe And daiely craues of God redresse againe The murtheryng minde is neuer free from foe Nor sure of freende nor yet of life in fine But dwells in doubt and lius like curssed Caine O happie wight that hath suche grace deuine That neuer will his harte nor conscience staine With brothers blood and blessed is that hedde And hande withall that neuer blood did shedde Bothe beasts and birds will fall out sondrie waies And striue awhile and yet at length agree But as thei waste their coller so decaies And cleane forgotte the quarrells are you see Shall man that hath the reason to forbeare Bee worse then beast O God that fault forbid Shall mallice finde a place and succour there Where Gods greate gifts ought lye like treasure hid Shall harts of men the temple of the Lorde Lodge murther vile and nourishe foule discorde Shall those that knowes what lawe peace is worth Breake Lawe and Peace and breede dissention still The tree is badde that bryngs suche braunches forth The hedds are vaine that showes no deeper skill The ground is nought that breeds but scratting brers And soile not good where murther still appers And yet the grounde can beare no blaâ—â— of this Mens harts vnsounde turns many thyngs amis Or els the fate that is from heauen sent And cruell course of Planetts 〈◊〉 be cause That people are to troubles 〈◊〉 bent And so forgetts good rule and wholsome lawes If Planetts could woorke that effecte in man Where should Gods grace haue force and vertue than It were a faulte and errour wonders greate To trust or thinke that Planetts could doe ought In man who taks his force and kindly heate His forme and shape his sence and feelyng thought From hym that sitts aboue the Starrs and sees How Planetts moue and how the worlde agrees Would God those soiles where greatest iarrs haue bin And all the sorts and people of the same Would from henceforthe suche trade of life begin As in our worlde might purchace endlesse fame For bloodie brauls that hurlie burlie breeds With murthers foule and treasons voide of feare Coms out of vice and spryngs from wicked seeds Thei are a drosse and Darnell in good Corne A gracelesse graine that poisons man and beaste An open plague a priuie prickyng thorne A bankette fine to grace a filthie feaste A dishe of swill dreste vp like daintie cheare A messe of brothe that marrs the Dâ—â—â—er quite A colde conceite of Cookrie boughtfull deare A connyng knacke of knauâ—ie spiâ—ste with spite A tricke newe learnde beyonde the Alps I trowe A toye brought home by those that trauells farre A simple Snake a smilyng suttell shrowe A signe of Peace but grounde of greâ—â—ous warre What can be named of all vile earthly thyngs But murthers reache and monstrons treason bryngs The lande that hath aâ—â—d his bowels bred This sore disease and will no medson take Is sure not well and sicke from feete to hed And of it self but small account doeth make No state can stande where Iustice bears no swaie The leggs are lame that full of humours are The man must fall that hath no certaine staie Where vertue wants vice walks but thin and bare A patched waule is shakte a sonder streight It lasts no while that is set vp by sleight Our Nature haets the thyng that is not good And suche as halte are spied by vpright seuce And kinde abhors the blade embrued in blood Who striks the weake that can not make defence Dare not in feeld a point to meete his foe Who maeks a bande to murther one alone Loues neither Prince nor commonwealth I knowe And who delites to here the giltlesse grone Doeth beare mans shape and Tygers nature showe Well
THE MISERIE OF FLAVNDERS CAlamitie of Fraunce Misfortune of Portugall Vnquietnes of Irelande Troubles of Scotlande And the blessed State of ENGLANDE VVritten by Tho. Church-yarde Gent. 1579. ¶ Imprinted at London for Andrewe Maunsell dwellyng in Paules Church-yard at the Signe of the Parret TO THE QVEENES MOST â—xcellent Maiestie Thomas Church-yard wisheth all heauenly blessednesse worldly felicitie and vnremouable good Fortune HAuyng a duetifull desire moste redoubted soueraigne to be daily exercised in some seruisable deuice and action that maie please my Prince and countrey I neither spare paines nor season to purchace through practise of pen and studie of heade my desired hope But waiyng the greatnesse of your Maiestie and Princely iudgement I am to seeke not onely what woordes dooeth best become me but likewise what woorkes I should present especially to her highnesse that hath suche giftes froÌ„ the heauens as all our earthly imaginations base matter here belowe maie of right giue place vnto And to offer any present where suche parfections doe abounde and the fountaine of many graces dooeth freely flowe the presumption were greate and the boldenesse scarce pardonabel Yet moste gracious Ladie albeit I dare not bryng water to the well heade of knowledge and comfortable spryng froÌ„ whence all kinde of people doe drawe succour and releef yet my hope is that my humble and vpright meanyng of this my woorke shall finde fauour in your highnesse sight In whiche worke I compare Flaunders FrauÌ„ce Portugall Irelande and Scotlande to bee the shell of a precious Nutte the sweete Kirnell whereof is the blessed state of ENGLANDE And though with worldly wickednesse and troubles of our tyme the goodly shell is somewhat wormeaten and cracked the Kirnell shewes it self so sounde that Gods greate goodnesse glorie is partly or altogether therein expressed And now by my verses and description is onely touched by all curtuous and reuerent meanes but the troubles and misfortunes of euery countrie a parte goyng no further in any frase of speeche then Christian zeale loue and duetie maie commaunde a good minde to sette out as knoweth our liuyng Lorde who sende your Maiestie many good and gracious newe yeres with a blessed and prosperous olde raigne ouer vs. FINIS THE MISERIE of Flaunders THE soile and welthie seate where people plentie founde w t scarcities scorge is plaged sore and made a barraine grounde Where fruitfull pleasures greate was lookt for in our daies And where for wealthe worthie thyngs did ronne our worldly praise O what a chaunge is this that neighbours mourne therefore And forraine foes are greeu'd at harte to see the euerelesse sore That now no sence can salue nor witte can helpe in haste Nor man maie sone by force reforme till warrs and will maks waste O Hauocke Reuells sonne and Riotte sister dere To foule misrule a mother vice that raignde full many a yere In vieu and corners cloase O nourse of noughtie prancks And needlesse pains and labour loste that can deserue no thanks Why should I blame abuse where Gods greate wrath bears swaie And peoples heads will haue it so and worldlie witts decaie So ronnyng on the race of crooked carelesse stepps Out goes good order at a iompe and in rude maner lepps That at his firste rebounde Shaks all in sonder streight And eche thyng cracks that feels the force of wilfull hauocks weight Now leaue that long discourse that hatefull hauocke bryngs By meane of rage and reuell route and speake of other thyngs That Flaunders groens to feele and sondrie sighe to see And none but wails that weyes the weight of stacts in eche degree Why should riche Flaunders now to Fortune poore giue place That had the harte and happe with all from harmes to holde her face Among the beste of name that wealthie state could showe Doe aske no more but leaue the cause to hym that all doeth knowe Yet I with speeches free maie tell what troubles are In Flaunders now for that their broils began of countreis care And matters fitte for penne awhile to treate vpon Good Whetstons for to sharpe dull witts the reste I looke not on That seru's for speciall spreetts that seeth through Moone and Starre So thus to leaue of weightie thyngs and come to Flaunders warre That worlde bewails and weeps that sees thereof the ende And knowes that head and shoulders must their countries cause defende My muse bidds me bee bolde for therein wants no skill To vse apt woords and searche out woorks to straine the ynkchorne quill For causes knowne to worlde then why if men maie aske Doeth Flaunders learne the dolefull daunce and comes in open Maske With drom and trompet loude to wake the worlde from sleepe That at sweete reste and peace will laugh and at sowre warre will weepe Why doeth freends faule at iarre and slide in sects by swarms And heapyng mischeef on their heads are grounde of their owne harms Why leaps some from their holde and taks the weakest parte And so forsaketh God and man to winne a worlde by arte Why haâ—lls the horsses wrong that in right course should goe Why doe the wise heads embrace self will and weaue a webbe of woe The cause doeth shewe it self for where dissention is There are fewe matters well in frame and many thyngs amis Now is no nother noyes but howlyng vp and downe And doubt and daunger bryngs greate feare in many a noble towne Now wanders peoples mynds like waues of troubled seas And neither man nor childe God wot is free from warrs diseas Death dwells in eche mans dore and threatens mischeeus greate The riche but maeks a hongrie meale the poore he starus for meate Was neuer seen suche want in any soile before And feawe haue little commyng in but spendeth on the store The Soldiour liu's by spoile the Marchaunts trade is don The Plowman letts the plowe alone and out poore people ron â–ª As though that men were madde and knowe not where to goe In doubt to finde a faithfull freend and sure to meete a foe The Pater noster men Or Mal content thei saie Hath brought our people suche a plague as breeds their whole decaie Eche Christian harte doeth weepe to knowe the carefull cace Of Flaunders now who to the chaunge of worldlie chaunce giu's place FINIS THE CALAMITIE of Fraunce WHat Kyngdome maie compare with wofull Fraunce Whose ciuill warrres did laste God wot too long The mightie men thereby felt greate mischaunce The feeble folke were forest to suffer wrong And no estate was free from scath and â—oile Suche furie raingde in rage of peoples mynds The weaklyngs went to ruin to wracke and spoile As trees be torne with blast and whirlyng wynds Strong goodly tounes were beaten doune to grounde Hye walls and towers were battred flat as Cake When trompetts blast and drum did slaughter sounde And bloudie blade did wicked murther make O listen now and heare my tale a while The warrs of Fraunce so sharpe and cruell
let that passe greate troubles maie a rise In angrie worlde that is displeasde for nought But suche as fall to murther are not wife Their witts can not conceiue how man was wrought Nor who regards the wrongs good people haue Whils giltlesse blood a right reuenge doeth craue FINIS THE BLESSED state of Englande WHat blessed hap and happie daies our Kyngdome doeth posses the welth peace that here aboūds to worlde maie well expres VVhat greater ioye cā people haue than rest and riches bothe And many other fruitfull thyngs that on those braunches groweth VVhat earthly fame is like to this what wisedome can bee more Than shunne the broiels that follie bryngs and laie vp wealthe in store For warrs when cause commaunds the same what can wee wishe so well Than at a tyme of troubles greate in quiet house to dwell But waye a while with iudging witte what woe our neighbours taste VVhat wealthe goes out what worlds vnreste comes in with warre and waste A lustie brute cries all for warre and suche as little haue VVith Princes paie or poore mens goods would faine goe gaie and braue But tastyng warrs bothe he and more that buyes their knowledge dere That goes out well coms home with losse and than rests quiet here Cries out of warrs finds fault with toile and trusts to that will laste And so with sadde and heauie minde forgetts the labours paste And faulls to take the ease we here enioye with peace at home A Iewell whiche full fea we shall finde that lists abrode to rome For rounde about vs euery where the worlde so runs on wheels That we are blest that here no parte of their affliction feeles Here haue wee scope to skippe or walke to ronne and plaie at base Still voide of feare and free of minde in euery poincte and cace Here freends maie meete and talke at will the Prince and Lawe obaied And neither straunge nor home borne childe of Fortune stands afraied Here hands doe reape the seeds thei so we and heads haue quiet sleeps And wisedome gouerns so the worlde that reason order keeps Here mercie rules and mildenesse raigns and peace greate plentie bryngs And sollace in his sweetest voice the Christmas carrowle syngs Here freends maie feast and triumphe too in suertie voide of ill And one the other welcome make with mirthe and warme good will The grounde it bryngs suche blessyng forthe that glad are forrains all Amid their want and harde exstreems in fauour here to faull Heer wounded staets doe heale their harms and straungers still repaire VVhen mischeef makes them marche abroad and driue them in dispaire Heer thousands haunt and finde releef that are in heauie cace And freendly folke with open armes doeth sillie soules enbrace Heer thyngs are cheape and easly had no soile the like can showe No state nor Kyngdome at this daie doeth in suche plentie flowe The trau'lar that hath paste the worlde and gone through many a lande VVhen he comes home and noets these thyngs to heauen holds vp hande And museth how this little plotte can yeeld suche pleasures greate It argues where suche graces growe that God hath blest the seate Bothe Prince and people euery one and where his blessyng is There neither wants no earthly ioye nor hope of heauens blis This I LE is Kirnell of the Nutte and those that neare vs dwell Our forraine neighbours rounde about I counte them but the shell That holdeth in this Kirnell sweete as Nature hath a ssiende And as some shells worme eaten are yet Kirnell sounde we finde So sondrie soils about this I le are crackt and croshte ye knowe VVith furies rage and force that fills their countrey full of woe VVhiche force of men or rage of warre maeks calme the lookers on And bids wise heads to quenche hotte fire and stande as colde as ston VVhen strief would storre vp quiet state to striue for feeble strawes And leaue the loue of countries zeale and holde with forraine cause O ENGLANDE thou art blest in deede thy necke is free from yoke Thy armes are strong thy body sounde and in good howre be spoke Thy youth and age haue able ioynts to trie thy cause in feelde And as that now in troublous tymes the Lorde hath been thy sheelde So looke when comes in cunnyng knacks thy whole account is made That plainnes shall make finenes feele the weight of Bilbowe blade More blessed than thy neighbours all by proof thou art as yet More likely art thou by that cause in peace and reste to sit More good in season hast thou doen than thousands well can waye Moste happie is thy state therefore and surer stands thy staye Than maiest thou be the Kirnell sweete that many wishe to haue But none can spoile nor scarce dare touche suche grace greate God thee gaue That garde shall keepe the Kirnell long from worme and wicked foile And sende good fortune sondrie waies vnto this blessed soile FINIS