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Parve nec invidio sine me (liber) ibis ad arma,

Hei inihi quod domino non licet ire tuo. Doone by George Peele, Maister of Artes, in Oxforde.

At London. Printed by J. C. and are to bee solde by William Wright, at his Shop adjoyning to St. Mildreds Church, in the Poultrie.

Anno 1589.

To the most famous Generalles of our English

Forces by Land and Sea, Sir John Norris and Sir Frauncis Drake, Knightes.

Your vertues famed by your fortunes, and fortunes renowned by your vertues (thryce honorable Generalles) together with the admiration the worlde hath worthily conceived of your woorthines; have at thys time encouraged mee, a man not unknowne to many of your brave and forwarde followers, Captaynes and Souldiers, to send my short farewell to our English forces, whereunto I have annexed an olde Poeme of myne owne, The Tale of Troy, A pleasant dyscourse, fitly serving to recreate by the reading, the Chivalrie of England. To whom, as to your ingenious judgements, I dedicate the same : that good mindes enflamed wyth honorable reports of their auncestry, may imitate theyr glory in highest adventures, and my countrymen famed through the worlde for resolution and fortitude, may marche in equipage of honour and armes, G3


wyth theyr glorious and renowned predecessours, the Troyans.

Beseeching God mercifully and miracu

lously, as hetherto he hath doone ta defend fayre England, that her souldiours may in theyr departure bee for- . tunate, and in theyr rețurne tryumphante.



Have doone with care my harts, aborde amaine
With stretching sayles, to plowe the swelling waves.
Bid Englands shoare, and Albions chalkye clyffes
Farewell: bid statelye Troy nouant adiewe
Where pleasant Thames from Isis silver head
Begins her quiet glide, and runnes along,
To that brave bridge the barre that th’warts her course,
Neere neighbour to the auncient stonye Toure,
The glorious hold that Julius Cæsar built:
Change love for armes, gyrt to your blades my boyes,
Your rests and muskets take, take helme and targe,
And let God Mars his consort make you mirth,
The roring canon and the brazen trumpe,
The angry sounding drum, the whistling fife,
The shrikes of men, the princelye coursers ney.
Now vaile your bonnets to your freendes at home,
Bid all the lovelie Brittish dames adiewe,


That under many a standarde well advanc'd,
Have bid the sweete allarmes and braves of love,
Bid theaters and proude trajedians,
Bid Mahomets Poo, and mightie Tamburlaine,
King Charlemaine, Tom Stukely and the rest
Adiewe; to armes, to armes, to glorious armes,
With noble Norris and victorious Drake,
Under the sanguine Crosse, brave Englands badge.
To propagate religious pietie,
And hewe a passage with your conquering swordes
By lande and sea : where ever Phæbus eye,
Th'eternall lampe of Heaven lendes us light:
By golden Tagus, or the Western Inde,
Or through the spacious Bay of Portugale,
The welthy ocean maine, the Terrhen sea,
From great Alcides pyllers braunching foorth
Even to the gulfe that leades to loftie Rome;
There to deface the pride of Antechrist,
And pull hys paper walles and


A famous enterprise for Englands strength,
To steele your swordes on avarice triple crowne,
And clense Augeus staules in Italie.
To armes, my fellow souldiers, sea and land

open to the voyage you intende,
And sea or land, bold Brittons, farre or neerey.
Whatever course your matchless vertue shapes,
Whether to Europes boundes or Asian plaines
To Affricks shore, or rich America,
Downe to the shades of deepe Avernus cragges
Sayle on, pursue your honours to your graves ;
Heaven is a sacred covering for your heads,
And every clymat vertues tabernacle.
To armes, to armes, to honourable armes,
Hoyse sayles, waie anckers up, plowe up the seas

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With flying keeles, plowe up the land with swordes;
In Gods name venture on, and let me say
To you my mates, as Cæsar sayd to his,
Striving with Neptunes bills: you beare, quoth he,
Cæsar, and Cæsars fortune in your ships ;
You follow them, whose swords successfull are,
You follow Drake by sea, the scourge of Spayne,
The dreadfull dragon, terror to your foes.
Victorious in his returne from Inde,
In all his hich attempts unvanquished
You follow Noble Norrice, whose renowne
Wonne in the fertile fieldes of Belgia
Spreades by the gates of Europe to the courts
Of Christian Kings and Heathen Potentates.
You fight for Christ and Englands peereless Queene
Elizabeth, the wonder of the worlde,
Over whose throne th' enemies of God
Have thundred curst their vaine successes braves
tenne times treble happy men, that fight
Under the Crosse of Christ and Englands Queene,
And follow such as Drake and Norris are?
All honours doo this cause accompanie,
All glory on these endlesse honours waite.
These honors and this glory shall he sende,
Whose honour, and whose glory you defende. .


G, P.



I am induced to describe the following production of this author, because it has escaped the researches of Ritson, and because it celebrates the Naval Victorics of one of the most illustrious of our countrymen.


“ THE TRUE AND PERFECTE NEWES of the woorthy and valiaunt Exploytes performed and doone by that valiant Knight, Syr Frauncis Drake, not onely at Sancto Domingo and Carthagena, but also nowe at Cales and uppon the Coast of Spayne. 1587.

Printed at London, by J. Charlewood, for Thomas Hackett."

It is dedicated “To the Right Honourable and hys singular good Lord George Clifford, Earle of Cumberland."

In the Introductory Address to the Reader, the author, speaking of the claims of his hero to honourable mention, has these singular expressions.

" At which time, heretofore, was there ever any English manne that did the like, as well for hys new navigation and long travel, and God be


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