Whyle tyme dooeth serue, can tyme so well reteyne;
That in good tyme hym tymely can aduyse,
Tyme well to spende, and tourne it to his gayne.
For tyme well spente to gayne and not to waste
The gayne will byde, though tyme dooth passe and runne,
But all to late, yf tyme shall ones bee paste,
For tyme ones loste, can not agayne be wonne."
Tl Some account of a Manuscript in Dr. Rawlinson's
Collection in the Bodleian Library,
I see no reason why the pages of theBiBLiOGRAPHER
should not be open occasionally to descriptions of manu-
script as well as printed curiosities, provided the con-
tents of such as are noticed appear interesting to the
generality of readers. I shall therefore, without further
preface, commence by enumerating the contents of a
volume bequeathed by Dr. Rawlinson of St. John's Col-
lege, to the University of Oxford, and now preserved
among his extensive and extremely valuable collection in
Mss. Rawl. Poet. 108.
A thin quarto, written about the year 1570, on paper,
containing a miscellaneous collection of verses, songs,
&c. in the same hand, and apparently used as a common-
place-book by its original possessor. From folio 1 to 5
are several epigrams in Latin, transcribed from various
vol. 11. r r authors
authors. The first is by Sir Thomas More, although no
name is subjoined to the manuscript :
" Res gravis est vxor, poterit tamen vtilis esse,
Si propere moriens, det sua cuncta tibi."
Fol. 6. Lines to Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, by
Walter Haddon and Thomas Wi'Uson.
Fol. 6, (b) " Epitaphiu" clarissimi viri &c militiss.
principis Joh~is nup. ducis Northumbrie." This noble-
man was beheaded in 1553.
Chaucer's epitaphs, as printed in Urry's Life, Sign,
e ii. with the following, which I do not remember to
have seen before.
" Vertue flouresshethe in Chawcere styil,
Though death offhym hath wrought hys wyll."
Fol. 7, and 8. Couplets, and short proverbs in meetre,
English and Latin.
Fol. 8, (b) " Laurentij Humfredi, S. theologian doc-
tor : pro R. Eliz. ad deum, precatio."
Fol. 9. Short verses, of which the following will serve
as a specimen :
" The hunter when one bedde he doth his weried corps n pose,
Yet on y e woods and game theirein his mind hit alwayes
goes: [sty 11
And those w ch all yeir youthe haue spent in wantones, do
(When strength of bodi aige hathe tam'd,) retaine their
Fol. 10 11. The figures of the following dances.
"Thepavyan; Turquylonye le basse; Mv lord of f s-
sex measures; Tynternell ; Lorayne Allemayne ; The
old Allmayne; Broumswycke; the quene's Allmayne;
The newe Allemayne ; The longe pavian ; Cycyllya Ale-
mayne ; The nevvc cycillia allemaine ; Cycyllya pavyan,
Quanto dyspayne; The nyne muses."
<l The quene's allmayne.
ij singles forward, cast of, a dnble rownd, ij singles syde, re-
prynce backe twyce. A duble forward, hoppe iiij tymes."
Fol. 1 1. (b) When shall all cruell stonnes be past?
Shall not your love my rigour slake ?
T wyl! no more, whyle liffe dothe laste,
Meddell with loue, but hyt forsake,
With owt you answere, and rehersc
Thee first word of eury verse
When stormes are bryme, the calme is next :
Tyme triethe all thinges in eurye place :
Dothe not eurye wise man knowe this text,
Serve trulye, thereof commethe grace ?
You are no foole, your wyellye brayne
Shall serve to find my answere playne
Fol. 12. A song, in dialogue, beginning,
" Maddame d'Angloye, me tell you verve true,
Me be verye muche enamored wythe youe."
Fol, 13. Short verses as at fol. 7 and 8.
Fol. 13. (b) 14. Several medical and other recipes,
among which this curious one: " To knowe yf a man
be sycke wheather shall lyve or dye. Take great nettle
and put them in the vryne of the sicke, and lett them
stand all night, and yf y e herbe be grene as they were
when they were put in, he shall live for y l sicknes, but
yf ye herbe be deade he shall dye."
Fol. 14 19. Several short poetical peices, of which
I select, as best,
" Of famed frynds.
" As bees in meadowes thicke do swarme,
When clade theye are with flowres,
So heapes of frynds thow shalt uot want,
As long as welthe endures:
But, as the bees the meades forsake,
When winter cold drawes one,
So yf thy goods do chaunce to faile,
Thy trynds will all be gone." Fol. 1(5.
*' A wyddower who is once become,
And sekes a second wyffe,
Is lyke to hyme who from shyppe wracke,
Agayne dothe renter lyffe,
r r 2 In
In broken shepe, forgetting clene
Tle danger of the wayve;
And trusteth styll (as once before,)
Good fortune maye Lyme save." Fol. 1/, b.
This appears to be borrowed from an epigram by Sir
Thomas More :
" In Digamos.
" Qui capit uxorem defuncta uxore secundam,
Naufragus in tumido bis natat ille freto."
Epigr. edit. 12. Lond. 1638. p. 53.
Fol. 20, 23. A few explanations of the contractions
usual in old writings.
Fol. 24. " The copye of an oration made and pro-
nounced by Mr. Pownde of Lyncolnes Inne, with a
brave maske ovvt of the same howse, all one grealte
horses att the marriage off theyonge erJe of South hamp-
ton to the lord Mountague's dawghter, abowtShrouetyde,
1565." Bolton tells us, that " Henrry Wriothesley suc-
ceeded his father as Earl of Southampton, in 1550. He
married Mary, the daughter of Anthony Brown, Vis-
count Montague, and died in 1581." Extinct Peerage,
page 245. The present MS. enables us to add a date to
Bolton's account, which, in its turn, corroborates the
authenticity of the oration.
Fol. 29, b. " The copye of an oration made and pro-
nounced by Mr. Pownd of Lincolnes June, with a maske
att y e marriage of y e Earle of Sussex syster to Mr. Myld-
maye off Lyncolne's Jnne, 1566."* This is somewhat
longer than the former, and a3 it shews the nature of
the entertainments provided at the marriages of the
higher classes, shall be noticed more particularly. It
* Lysten ye lords and ladyes all,
For nowe, lo, J begynne :
But knowe ye fyrst from whence we come
Most part from Lincolne's Jnne.
* Frances only daughter of Henry Ratcliffe, Lord Fitzwaller
and Earl of Sussex, by Eliz. Howard, one of the daughters of
Thomas the second Duke of Norfolk, being the wife of Thomas
Mildmay, carried the ancient barony of Fitzwalter into his family.
See Bolton's Extinct Peerage, p. z$z ; and Coll. Peer. IX. 44.9,
Where vnto me the chaunced of latte,
A thinge most straunge to heire,
And to yo r . honours what it was,
In fewe it shall appeare.
This weke last past, one daye, att night,
When late J went to bedde,
And gaue my selfe to quiet rest,
Reposinge downe my hedde :
J was no sonere layd a slepe,
But there appered to me
The fowre most famouse goddesse $
You wotte well w ch . they bee.
Faire Venus, and Diana chast,
Pallas, and Juno to,
W ch in my dreame amafcde me muche,
As suchie a sight might do. "
The poet, as may well be supposed, was not a little
alarmed at the celestial company he found himself com-
pelled to entertain ; and not knowing, as he says, how he
might salute them, he fell down at their feet. Whilst
in this humble posture, his sole idea was to learn for
what purpose the goddesses had descended from their
celestial abodes, when, very kindly, they condescended
to relieve his curiosity by declaring the object of their
" Jn voyce humane they tould me straight.
The cause why downe they came;
There is, q th . they, a nimphe of ours,
A wyght of worthye fame,
A starre in dede in all respects,
Accordinge to here lyne;
W th . uadiand rayes of bewtie's beames.
So gallantlye to shyne,
That from a clyffe of burninge gould,
It semethe to dyscend,
W Ul . such a bryght reflexion.
As Phebus scarce can lend
From his angelicall face y e like,
When it is clerest to see,
nede not tell here name q th . they
She is well knowen to the.
k it 3 Givatf;
Greatc fame goes f her marriage daye
Nowe to be nere at hand,
And of yo r . house here husband is>
As we do vnderstand.
And J, q r! . Pallas, knowe him well,
A try me younge man in dedej
As mylde by natare as the maye,
And one y* wyll exccde
Jn all respects, for wise he is,
Well lerned, and of harte,-
When anye cowrage shuld be shewed
To playe y c manlye parte."
After these, and some other praises of the pair whose
nuptials were about to be solemnized, Minerva informs
the poet that he is fixed on as ambassador "once more"
to congratulate them on the happy occasion; and she
here alludes to some services of the same nature which
Mf. Pownd had before performed.
" For Pallas' sake, whose knight you were,
Yf you reniembre well,
When cownte Philos was yo r . name-,
The Templers yet could tell.
And greys' Jnne can not since forgette,
Yf wytnesses dyd nede;
Howe then you conquered Envye cleane :
They joyed in the dede."
The chosen messenger of the deities, upon hearing the
distinguished office he was called on to perform, would
have declined the task, fearing his inability to do justice
to the merits of those he had to address, but his scruples
were soon overcome by the promise of inspiration from
his heavenly mistresses. Upon this, Venus " stepped
fourthe," and the poem then proceeds with a very elabo-
rate description of her charms and person.
" Here fore hedde was lyke cristall eleare,
Well bewtyfyed to see,
Here heart- lyke wyer of burnynge gold;
It seemed so to me."
It is somewhat remarkable that this golden hair is
represented as the more engaging because it was " most
finely fryzeled vppe," but the poet accounts for it by
telling us that its roughness formed a beautiful contrast
" The smothenes of here sylken skynne."
At the end of this poetical portrait, the goddess, we
learn, delivered a golden apple to the messenger, and
" From Juno and Minerva bothe,
This gyft was gyven me,
By Parys, when he iudged y l J
Was fairest of y e three.
And here y e word is wrytten in,
W ch signifyeth as muche :
Lo, (detur pulchriori,) tell
His sentence then was suche,
A fytter token haue J not,
To send vnto this dame,
Then this, q shej hold, beare it here,
And greet her in my name.
For, lycke as Parys then sawe none,
W ch was so fayre as J,
So, she is fairest where she goes,
Of all the co~panye."
But this oration, as it is termed, gives us a piece of in-
telligence not uninteresting ; and shews how highly Mr.
Mildmay and his bride were honoured, since it is very
evident from what follows, that Elizabeth herself was
present at the nuptials. He tells the lady, that perhaps
she feels repugnance at accepting the gifts, since
<< you do thinke J flatter yon,
For y' J do amisse,
To geue it you, whyle all men see,
A fayrere nowe in place.
But, as for y l [ wyll appeale,
For pardon to here grace j
J must suppose she is not here,
As thowghts (we saye) be free,
And then J do here grace no wronge,
No faulte there is in me.
r n 4 J' do
J do but my commission,
W eh J may not transgresse,
For seynge y c I came from ye gods,
Nowe J cane do no lesse.
But lyke a messenger to shewe,
What they dyd byd me saye,
But this had not bene sent to you,
(That knowe you by y e waye,)
Yff so it bad benne knowen before,
That suche a royall state,
Would haue beene present here 5 but nowe
I taulke of it to late.
Thinke y f you haue it yet by cbaunce,
And not so muche by rygbt,
For due it were men see to whom,
Except men lacke theire sight.
And what disgrace is that to you?
No, no, the brightest starre
Js darkened when the sonne dothe sbyne :
Theire beames do dyffer farre."
Compliments like these could have been addressed to
no person but the maiden Queen.
When Venus had bestowed her present, Juno ap-
proaches the " bachelere," and perceiving the agitation
he felt at her august presence, cheered him with the
kindest assurances of favour and protection.
" And howe longe lyngeryou, quoth she,
In this same single lvrre?
A tyme theire is when to be free,
And tyme to take a wyffe."
After promising to assist him in the choice of a
" faithfull fair," Juno displays her offering, which was
a splendid picture of her own peacock, given, as she
says, to induce all nymphs, when they see the tail of the
" To haue most eyes uppon them selves,
For takinge greatest heede."
Minerva next delivers her shield with the Medusa's
head, which she desires the bride to present to her hus-
band, and for her own acceptance, the goddess sends her
picture in token of her affection and favour.
" Go, saythe she, with this gyft of royne
A present in here prayse.
And so, good ladye, take it you
With raanye happye dayes."
The poet then awakens, finds the goddesses flown, but
the presents surrounding him. He immediately rises
and betakes himself
" To make some kynd of speache for this,
In mytre or in prose."
How far he has succeeded in his attempt has been al-
The conclusion is of little importance; after inform-
ing the company that his companions are the followers-
of Minerva, and the supporters of virtue and learning,
he requests the fair ladies and noble dames ' to maske' y
with the gentlemen as a reward for their exertions, and,
wishing the newly married couple every happiness and
blessing that wedlock bestows, and merit deserves, he
concludes his oration :
" Yet in your ioyes to joye the more,
J pray too, Jyke your frynd,
That God may blese your fruiytfull sede.
And thus P make an ende."
Fol. 38 4.1. A description of several religious sects :
the donatists, anabaptists, Sec
Fol. 43, 44. Two ballads, beginning
1. " Shall distance part our loue,
Or daylye choyse so chaunge,
Shall spryghts benethe, or bodyes aboue,
Have povvre to make vs straunge? &c.
2. " Ffayne wold J haue a pretye thinge,
To geue vnto my ladye ;
I meane no hurt, J meane no harme,
But as pretye a thinge as may be " &:c.
This last is to be found, with some variations, iir
Fol. 44, (b) " Verses made by the Quene's Ma*''*."
See Puttenham's Arte of English Poesic, by Haslewood,
Fol. 45. A glossary of words, beginning with the let-
ters A and B. from which the following are those only
not commonly known :
" Abject, forsake. Ambage, circumstance.
Affectation, curiosity. Animadversion, counsel.
Alacrity, mirth. Anchilation, frustration."
After several folios left blank, or with a word here and
there, which seems to have been an index to some book,
the MS. concludes with
" Costs in the escheker of my kdye abbesse of Ambres-
burye for maykinge quitte of here fraunches in the Conf of
% A newe Booke called the Shippe of safegarde, tvryt-
ien ly G. B.* Anno 1569. Imprinted at London by
IV. Seres. i2mo. in eights, extends to Fij.
The above initials remain unapplied, and the poem
to which they are prefixed is now, for the first time, in-
troduced to ihe knowledge of modern readers. By the
dedication, as will be presently seen, the author de-
scribes himself as brother-in-law to " Mistresse Phillyp
Da r el! and Mistresse Fraunces Darell, of the house of
Scotney;" a family that obtained particular attention in
the researches of Hasted for the History of Kent, f though
that work does not supply any thing conclusive towards
discovering the name of our poet. Thomas Darell,
whose lands were disgavelled in the reign of Edward the
Sixth, was twice married ; first, to a daughter of Hedde,
* The same initials were prefixed to a work called " Be-ivare
the Cat" composed temp. Edward VI. which being levelled aga'uvst
The popish shifts, was for a rime obscured ; as the introductory
vests express. I have not been able to rind a copy of this tract,
and am doubtful if it could be by the same writer. It is mentioned
by Herbert, p. 11-8, who gives the date 15S4, but in the Bib.
Poetica. p. 1 ig, it is 1 561.
f See al"> Stemmata Chicheleana, No. 108, p. 64, by which it
appears that Bsrnaby Googe had seven sons and two daughters,
which has not b:en hitherto noticed among the few circumstances-
coi'ected of him. His son Robert was elected a Kentish Fellow
of Ail So'iis, Oxford, 15S6. See Cens. Lit. II. 212, and Theatr.
Pcet. Anglic. 126.
by whom he had an only daughter, married to John
Brookes; and secondly, to Mary, daughter of Roy don,
of East Peckham, by whom he had one son and four
daughters, of whom it is only necessary to notice two :
Maria, married to Barnaby Goughe, * [or Googe] Gent,
and Frances, who married Robert Green, of Bobbing,
Gent. Upon these slender materials ingenuity may easily
advance a double argument: first, the presumption that our
poet was a relative of the above John Brookes, and married
into the familv: second, that he was Barnaby Googe,
and reversed his initials. Conjectural as these points
are, the second, though somewhat strained bv inversion,
appears the most tenable from the fact of Googe being
brother-in-law to Frances; however, it fails in being
supported by a " M isiresse Phillyp," as not any of the
family is mentioned with that name; though that cir-
cumstance might arise from her dying young; and the
dedication speaks of their * yong and tender yearcs."f
As a poet, he is not without merit, and may be par-
ticularized for unusual smoothness of versification. He
was probably well received by contemporaries, which
is proved bv being one of those noticed by Webb in his
extremely rare Discourse of English Poetry, 15S6 ;
where also may be found the name of Darell. % That
* So Hasted ; however the name of the poet was variously spelt.
There is in the possession otTVlr. Phelps the Editor's presentation
copy or Ch alon tR's De Republica Anglor-vm, 1579; at the top of
the title p-ige is written " To Mr. Barnabee Googe, W. M." ami
at the bottom " Barnabee Gochc, ex dono Guiielmi Malim, 1579 j
f It must be taken for granted that G. B. was the husband of
one of the daughters of Tho. Darell. The omission in the pedi-
grees of such a daughter and such an husband is but o\ little
weight in itself. But I incline to the ingenious conjecture of
Mr. Haslewood that G. B. were the initials of Barnaby Googe
reversed, on the ground of Googe 's literary charterer ; and his
habit of alluding to his Kentish alliances. B.
t The following are the words of Webb " One gentleman
notwithstanding among them I may not ouerslyppe so fane
reacheth his fame, and so worthy is he, if hee haue not already,
to weave tie 1 iwrell wreathe, Master George Whetstone, a man
singularly weli skyld in this faculty of Poetrie : to him I wilt
ioyne Anthony Munday, an earnest traueller in this arte, and in
register was all that Ritson met with respecting both of
them, which may excuse the present article being ex-
tended beyond usual limits, to afford a knowledge of the
genius and merit of a poet whose laurels have unusually
withered on the brow of time. It is dedicated
** To hys verie good sisters Mistresse PhillypDarell.andMis-
tresse Fraunces Darell, of the house of Scotney. Often with
myselfe considering (my nowne good sisters) your vertuous and
well disposed minds, in these your yong and tender yeares, I
thought it meete (as well to sbewe my good will towards you,
as to satisfie your well inclined affectio~s) to take some trauaile
in finding out such matter, as neither I might acco~pt my time
vainly spent in wryting, nor you yours euill employed in read-
ing. Debating thus a whyle with myselfe what matter myght
best herein serue both our turnes, I was thorowly resolued
with as much diligence as I could to make some discourse vpon
the perfite estate of a true christian, an estate aboue all others
most happie and worthy, if it were as well renowmed for lyfe,
as it is reuerent for name, and perceyuing the lyues of Chris-
tians in these dayes so farre differing from the sinceritie that
is required in a christian professour, I gaue for title to my
booke the counterfeyt Christian, wherein I declared the great
disorders of this our tyrne, as also the wonderfull vertues and
puritie of lyfe, that gloriously shyned among the first and
auncient professours of Christ, which Booke beyng encreased
to some largenesse of volume, and euen almost readie to be
publyshed vnder the patronage and protection of your two
names, by yll fauourd misfortune perished. Wherwithall
somthing discontented that both I should thus bee defrawded
of the effect of my long trauayle, and you of that which so
long and so earnestly I ment you : With a scarse quiet mind I
hastily began this volume, which (bicause of the daugers of
this worlde, whereby the soule enclosed in the barke of sinfull
fleshe wyth great hasard passeth) I named the Ship of safe-
garde, a ship but rudely furnished, and God knows symply
rygged, as the great haste and small tyme enforced, wanting
whose name I haue seene very excellent vvorkes, among which
surely, the most exquisite vaine of a witty poeticail heade is
hewed in the sweete sobs of shepheardes and nymphes : a worke
well worthy to be viewed, and to be esteemed as very rare poetrie.
With these I may place John Graunge, Knyght, VVylmott,
Darrell, F. C. F. K. G. B. and many other, whose names come
not ncwe to my remembraunce. , '' Re<v. c liij.
both strength of tymber and comlynesse of proportion, two
euydent signes of an vnskilfull workeman. Notwithstanding
howsocuer it be, I dedicate it vnto you as an earnest token of
my good wyll towardes you, not doubting but >ou will so ac-
cept it, whervnto I had also thought to haue added .bicause I
know you delight in stories) the lyues and actes of dyuers men
in the primitiue church, whereof I began with one or two; but
bicause they were tedious, and my leisure but little, I left them
and proceeded no farther. God poure vpon you long and pros-
perous yeres on earth, and after your passage from this vale of
wretchednesse, euerlasting rest and ioy in the kingdome of
Heauen. From London the fourtenth of Februarie. Your
louing brother in lawe. G. B."
Some monitory lines et to the reader," bid him tread
the " path that mounteth vp to place where God doth
liue," and that the pleasures thereby enjoyed far exceed
those of the world. The Ship of Safeguard follows,
which is an allegorical poem, founded upon the life of
man ; and extends as far as 219 octave stanzas. It thus
" The wandring wight that in the raging seas
Wyth sayling barke doth seke the happy port,
No leysure hath to giue himselfe to ease:
No time he findes wherein to play or sport ;
Eche long delay, eche calme doth him displease:
Hym listeth not to lynger in such sort ;
In nothing ioyes, in nothing pleasure findes,
Saue in the blastes of prosperous happie windes.
His carefull braine is busied enermore,
In vewyng well his compasse and his cardej
And minding still what daungers lye before,
What swelling sands, what rocks, what hauens barde^
Wyth skilfull head he s ekes the safest shore,
And thetherwarde doth sayle with good regarde,
Brings home his Bark through storms & te~pests great,
To happie port and long desired seat.
The vnskilfull head, and rechelesse ydle minde,
Contrarie wise doth giue himselfe to rest,
Not fearing stormes nor boystrous blasts of winde,
But in the middest of daungers feareth least ;
And thinkes the hauen happily to finde,
When stormes are past, and tempest cleerely ceast.
Thus guyded e u i ! 1 his shyp on rocks doth fall,
And castes awaye both frayght and foole and all.
Enen so the will and fansie vayne of man,
That through this worlde his painefuil passage makes.
Who ought to seeke by ail tiie raeanes he can,
Through daungers deepe, and lothsome lowring lakes.
That hippie port lor which his course began ;
For which eche carefull minde his trauaile takes ;
In thousand harmes and thousand daungers prest,
Doth giue himselfe to carelesse ease and rest.
PifgfardinEC not the hasard of himselfe,
Nor taking heede his fleshly foyst to guide,
i'ull fraught with sin and care of worldly pelfe,
Makes no account of wether, winde or tide,
But blindly strikes himselfe on euerie shelfe,
And in the flouds of mischiefe wanders wide,
Till on the rocks he desperately doth light
And loseth all for lacke of guiding right.
Within the seas of fonde affection blinde,
That through the world in euerie place doth flowe,
Sayles euerie wight that liueth here by kinde,
And runnes the race that fancie forth doth blowe,
And kepes the course that pleaseth best his minde,