[Bagford Collection, I. 82.]

Londons Plague from Holland,

Dr,

Inquiries after the Natural Causes of Her Present
Calamity.

Hat's Englands Metropolis become forlorne ?
Europes late Glory, now a Pesants scorne!
The Mistress of the Seas, She that outvi'd?
Her ranting Sister Cities, th' Gallick Pride?
Room resurrect, in her great Ela State?
Must she now truckle to the Dooms of Fate
Without a rescue? 's no bold Champion sent
To wrest her from the rudest Ravishment
O'th Rawbon'd Rascall, must he triumph thus?
And timpanize himself with blood of us
Poor Mor[t]als? Devour more at a meal
Then Bell and Dragon in an age could steal ?
Where's all the Quixots of our age? has none
Th' Elixir, the long-look'd-for Stone?

8

12

No Cure for her, whose Tenants make their boasts

Till now, they'd rout the most victorious hosts

16

Of all Diseases? Here's a Goliah stands

And bids defiance 'gainst th' united bands
Of Art: Then muster up your Forces, say,
Who shall command? or who begin the Fray?
If Seniority takes place, the Galenist's
Oblig'd in honour first to enter th' Lists.
What weapons must he use? a Weavers Beam,
Too great for him to wield, His Apozemes,
Electuaries, Julips, Bolus, and the rest,
Are all too gross to touch this Spirituallist.
More refin❜d weapons (though defensive all)
Some say may shield us from this Canniball.
Enter Van Helmont then, who like another
Jacob, endeavours to supplant his Brother,

And with more right perhaps; take but this story,
What feats hee'l do with his Elabratory,

32

How hee'l unravel Nature, th' causes find

By Chimick art what 'tis compounds the wind:
Yet h's Aquafortis, Regis, and Cœlestis,

(With choicest spirit, which esteem'd the best is)

36

Though elevated higher then the gross
And fæculent composure of a Dos[e],
Are too terrene t' encounter or contest
With this invincible Antagonist.

Quartans no more shall Galenists defame,
Nor th' Altahest the Paracelsian blame.
Here's a Disease so subtle (though impure)
Baffles them both to find the Cause or Cure.
Let's force Art to her Zenith then, and try
The Virtuosoes Etimology.

How they define, or gravely descant on
This grand invisible Contagion.

Malignant vagrant Atomes are the quaint
(Say they) Compounders of this mortal taint,
Their qualities and motions yet obscure,
Till the Dioptricks can discern th' impure,
Though subtle exhalations that proceeds
From the first matter, which infection breeds.
A Quere may be urg'd, whether they be
Not vivid Atoms, since we daily see
All sulphurous Fumes these wanderers expels,
With other Insects to remoter Cells.
What ere they be, extrinsique first they are,
And Vagrant too, why suffered then so farre
T'entrench on humane nature? cannot Art
Contrive a Statue Law; and whip this tart
Unruly Vagabond from mortal bounds,
Or (as the Country-man the Stragler pounds)
Confine him? No, This Hoegan Mogan Lord,
(Though wafted higher on a Shipwracks bord)
Takes so much state upon him, (like his Sire,
The sink of Christendome, Europes Quagmire)
That Civil Laws this Gaderen defies,
With Arts and Sciences as Enemies.
Is Art then stinted? a non ultra here

To her proceedings? Th' Question is not cleer;
The fountain's muddy whence this taint first came,
Why then should th' English Artist foul his name,
In pudling into th' Cause, thus much Ile say,
If sympathetick Atomes bear the sway,
Our Calvenist with 's motled Brotherhood,
Draws Dutch Opinions, and his Countryes blood.

[No date or printer's name. In White-letter.]

BAGFORD

[Bagford Collection, I. 83.]

Sonets and Histories,

to sundrie new Tunes.

AGFORD has collected in the early pages of this volume numerous fragments, not necessary to be reproduced by us. But at this place we find a solitary leaf of a small blackletter volume; with the head-lines, as above, marked alternately on the pages. It is valuable, in our eyes, for it supplies an important link in the history of a book which must always be precious to Shakespearian students, and concerning which we hope to say more a few months hence. The leaf, hitherto unrecognized, undescribed (to the best of our knowledge), is of nothing less than the celebrated "Handefull of pleasant delites, containing sundrie new Sonets and delectable Histories, in diuers kindes of Meeter. Newly denised to the newest tunes that are now in use, to be sung: euerie Sonet orderly pointed to his proper Tune. . . . By Clement Robinson, and diuers others. At London: Printed by Richard Ihones, . . 1584." Of this 36-leaved volume only one specimen is known, which is dated 1584. It had belonged successively to Colonel Byng, the Marquis of Blandford, Mr. Perry, Mr. Jolley,' and the Rev. Thomas Corser (lately deceased). It is now safely harboured in the British Museum. Before the present Editor made from the book a transcript in fac-simile, for his own use, he had discovered this odd page preserved in the Bagford Collection (apparently quite unknown to Mr. James Crossley, who edited the Spenser Society reprint, 1871). It is not merely that here is a fragment of another individual volume, the one hitherto known being supposed to be unique: It is more, for there are such numerous differences from the 1584 specimen (itself, by the way lacking two pages, 27 and 28, each of thirty lines), that we feel assured it belongs to a different edition. It starts one line earlier than the 1584 corresponding page; and in thus commencing it breaks a stanza. It has a different page signature (sign. D 2, and verso; instead of being D 4, and verso), and every line shows variations. Moreover, where important differences of reading occur, it is evidently superior in correctness (we think)

1 It has the book-plate and signature of Thos. Jolley, Esqre., F.S.A., dated 1822. For the British Muscum it was purchased 4 Oct. 1871.

to the 1584 edition. All this points towards the conclusion that our Bagford fragment may be part of an earlier edition.

To the publisher Rich. Iohnes was entered in the Stationers' Registers (recently printed by the trusty and laborious Edward Arber, to whom we all owe so much gratitude), for 1564-5, a licence for "a boke intituled, Of very pleasaunte Sonnettes and Storyes in myter, by Clement Robynson." A little before the same date we find entered to him one or more of the ballads contained in the Handefull, for separate publication, probably as broadsides in Black-letter. Moreover, the title-page of the 1584 unique exemplar announces it to appear "With new additions of certain Songs, to verie late deuised Notes, not commonly knowen, nor vsed heretofore." This statement would confirm the impression of there having been an earlier issue of the book (perhaps more than one such; our present fragment included therein), even without the indisputable testimony of the Stationers' Registers. These show that R. Ihones received sundry licences to print these "Sonets and Histories," both separately and collectively, as early as 1565. Our fragment may be a part of some such volume, as having been then issued; unless, indeed, it belonged to one of still later date than 1584.

No collection of early poetry offers more convincing proof of having been the companion of Shakespeare than does the Handefull. Elsewhere we demonstrate this. For the present we confine ourselves to giving (verbatim et literatim et punctuatim, except that we divide the verses by spaces, and extend the contractions) the precious fragment of the early lost edition. Its preservation and discovery encourage a hope that even yet some other copy may be found, supplying the missing leaf of the 1584 volume.

The leaf begins with the twelfth line of A proper new Dity: Intituled, Fie upon Loue and al his lawes. To the tune of lumber We give the portions that precede and follow, to complete the sense, in smaller type. All the verses are in Black-letter:

me."

UCH bitter fruict thy loue doth yeelde,
Such broken sleepes, such hope vnsure,

Thy call so oft hath me beguilde,

That I vnneth can well indure:

But crie (alas) as I have cause,

Fie vpon Loue and all his Lawes.

¶ Like Piramus, I sigh and grone,

Whom Stonie wals, keept from his loue,

And as the wofull Palemon,

A thousand stormes for thee I prooue,

Yet thou a cruell Tigers whelpe,]

All slayest the heart, whom thou maist help. [fragment

begins sign. D 2.]

¶ A craggie Rock thy cradle was,
And Tygres milke sure was thy food:
Whereby Dame Nature broought to passe,
That like thy Nurse should be thy moode:
Wilde and unkind, cruell and fell,

To slay the heart that loues thee well.

The Crocodile with fained teares,

The Fisher not so oft beguiles :

As thou hast fild my simple eares

To heare sweet words, full fraught with wiles
That I may say, as I doo prooue,

Wo worth the time I gan to loue.

Sith thou haste vowd to worke my wrack,
And haste no will my wealth to way,
Farewell vnkind, I will keepe backe
Such toyes as may my health decay:

And still will crie, as I have cause,
Fie upon loue and all his lawes.

The Louer being wounded with his Ladies beautie,

requireth mercy.

To the tune of Apelles.

He liuelie sparkes of those two eyes,
My wounded hart hath set on fire:

And since I can no way deuise,

To stay the rage of my desire :

With sighes and trembling teares I craue
my deare, on me some pitty haue.

¶ In viewing thee, I tooke such ioy,
As one that sought his quiet rest:
Untill I felt the feathered boy,
Ay flickering in my captiue breast:

4

8

12

16

19

6

[sign. D 2 verso begins]

Since that time loe, in deepe dispaire,
all voyd of ioy, my time I weare.

12