Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
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A09538
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Times iourney to seeke his daughter Truth and Truths letter to Fame of Englands excellencie.
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Pett, Peter, fl. 1599.
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1599
(1599)
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STC 19818; ESTC S110438
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19,872
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52
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Times iourney to seeke his Daughter Truth And Truths Letter to Fame of Englands Excellencie 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 AT LONDON Imprinted by F. K. for Humfrey Lownes 1599. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE AND MY SINGVLAR GOOD LORD CHARLES EARLE OF Notingham Baron of Effingham Knight of the most noble order of the Garter Lord high Admirall of England Ireland and Wales c. and one of her Maiesties most Honorable priuie Councell YOur late fauourable intertainement Right Honorable vouchsafed to this my hard fauoured Childe is now my incouragement againe to present her to you clad in this new habite She hath cause to shroude her selfe vnder Honours wing for so rude is her habite and so meane her parentage that were not such patronage a safe refuge to her when the malicious shall persecute her I feare she would be accounted a roague and for wandring abroad in so vnfauourable a time be scourged with the whip of disgrace and lashed with the sharpe rod of euery Criticks censure Those many fauours which you honourably extended to my father whilst he liued and still continue to his name and children claime a farre greater testimony of gratefulnes then the greatest of my small indeuours can affoord notwithstanding accept a dutifull minde witnessed in a rude sort and when Time shall with some of his feathers better cloath my scarce-feathered Muse she will better testifie how highly she honours and admires your worth In meane time pardon her present vnworthines and once againe take in good worth this mine vnworthy present whereof hauing reason to rest perswaded I leaue further to interrupt your serious affayres and so humbly take my leaue Your Honours in all dutie Peter Pett To the Reader TO intreate their fauour that cannot be discourteous were superfluous to craue fauour of the churlish were friuolous VVhat thou art I know not but if thou meanest to peruse my Muses labour expect no great matters least thy expectation be frustrated It were folly to tell thee of my weakenes hauing laide it open to euery eye neither will I excuse it to thee because I am ignorant of thy disposition I am no Satyre to scourge thee if thou snarle at me yet feare I not the most piercing fang of peeuish enuie being sufficiently armed against all censures and therefore not to be harmed by thy censure Peter Pett TIMES IOVRNEY TO SEEKE HIS DAVGHTER TRVETH AMidst some graâ—er studies taking pause To giue my tyred spirits some delight And to refresh my wearie minde because Sometime repose is very requisite That I might take a little breathing flight I left a while to trace Philosophie To please my selfe with harmlesse Poetrie With harmlesse Poetrie not otherwise Lasciuious writing doth not please my vaine For vaine it is such matters to deuise As nothing else but note of folly gaine A bootlesse labour and a fruitlesse paine Offensiue to the wise and likte of none But those which in their hearts make Follies throne Disgrace to Poets commendable Art Making that loath'd which euery man would loue If loue and Cupids arrowes wanton smart Were not the greatest motiue that doth moue Poets their wits in sugred verse to proue Ah that to proue their wits most excellent To such base meanes their wils should so be bent Loue is too base a Subiect now to write of Common to euery ballad-makers time And farre vnfit for Scholers to indite of For they should holde more pretious their time And sure there cannot be a greater crime Then to mispend time in so lewd a wise As if we did the price thereof despise For doe not men the pretioâ—s time mispend Whilst they discourse of loues and louers â—one That cannot sort to any other end Then make the hart of man soule Vices throne That of it selfe to lewdnesse is so prone Adding to smoaking flaxe a burning flame Which at first touch doth set on fire the same Not such was my intent or purposde drift Pleasing to me was alwayes Poesâ— A soule-infused faire celestiall gift In rauishing with â—eauenly harmony But Loue vntunes that pleasant melody Makes sweetest tunes to iarre and disagree Makes Art a thrall but Arte loues to be free And therefore when I meant in measur'd style To please my selfe and other not offend I thought loue-matters ouer base and vyle Nor of such toyes to write I did intend But other wayes my cogitations bend Three speciall sorts of writ I then did find All which I well approued in my mind The first is morall and that sort indeed To carpe at Vices profitable is To shew amongst good corne the noysome weed And tell the World wherein it doth amis For though the VVorld doth little count of this Yet he that herein well imployes his pen Well pleaseth God and merits prayse with men The second sorte is call'd historicall That tells of sundry lamentable fates Declares the life the death the pompe the fall Of Emperours and mghty Potentates Of Princes and of other Magistrates And this in it much profit doth contayne By others harmes to warne them that remayne The third sort that is allegoricall Which vnder Metaphors and couert phrase Proposeth Vertue to the vew of all Clad in a rich attyre that whilst men gase Vpon the same and on her beauties blase Vnwares they learne to know fayre Vertues price And see the foule deformity of Vice And he that in this kynd can temper well Profit with sweet delight vnto his prayse Well may we yeeld and say he doth excell And for his skill his fame to heauen vp rayse So may we speake of Speâ—sers golden layes Whome neuer any man could equall yet That in our tongue hath as a Poet writ On these three sorts whilst I did ruminate As taking respite which of them to chuse That when I should my selfe thus recteate That little time I might not vainely vse Nor such a pretious gift of God abuse I found my wit more dull then it was wont And myne 〈◊〉 seemed very blunt Therefore I left my melancholy cell To set an edge on myne inuention Streight went I to a walke that likte me well That I might make some disposition In order of those things I thought vpon For many thoughts Maze-lyke the mynd inclose Confusedly till order them dispose No sooner to this walke I entred then But that a Subiect for my Muse I found And presently gan fit it for my pen For when I markt how chearefully the ground The herbes the plants the trees about me round Praysd their 〈◊〉 in their seuerall kynd Thus I began to reason in my mynd All creatures of thâ— Eternall God but 〈◊〉 In seuerall sorts doe glorify his nameâ— Things dumbe and â—â—â—â—ely sencelesse as they caâ— Yet seeme to prayse and magnify the same Is it not then an 〈…〉 That man should be 〈…〉 Of whome God 〈◊〉 him Lord 〈…〉 Each tree doth seeme tenne thousand tongues to haue With them to laude the Lord omnipotent Each leafe that with Windes gentle breath doth