Nay, nay, not soo; ye shal not goo; and I shal telle you why;
Your appetyte is to be lyght of love, I wele aspie;

For right as ye have sayd to me, in lyke wyse hardely
Ye wolde answere, who so ever it were, in way of company,
It is sayd of olde, sone hote sone colde; and so is a woman,
Wherfore I too the woode wyl goo alone a banysshid man.

Yef ye take hede, yet is noo nede suche wordes to say bee me;
For ofte ye preyd, and longe assayed, or I you lovid perdee;
And though that I of auncestry a baron's doughter bee,
Yet have you proved how I you loved, a squyer of lowe degree,
And ever shal, what so befalle; to dey therfore anoon;
For in my mynde of al mankynde I love but you alone.

A Baron's childe to be begyled, it were a curssed dede;
To be felow with an outlawe Almyghty God forbede:
Yet bettyr were the power squyer alone to forest yede,
Than ye shal saye another day that be wyked dede
Ye were betrayed; wherfore good maide, the best red ye I can,
Is that I too the greene wode goo alone a banysshed man.

Whatsoever befalle, I never shal of this thing you upbraid;
But yf ye goo, and leve me soo, than have ye me betraied.
Remembre you wele, how that ye dele, for yf ye, as the sayde,
Be so unkynde to leve behynde your love the notbrowne maide,
Trust me truly, that I dey, sone after ye be gone,
For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but you alone,

Yef that ye went, ye shulde repent, for in the forest now

I have purveid me of a maide, whom I love more than you.
Another fayrer than ever ye were; I dare it wel avowe;
And of you bothe eche shulde be wrothe with other as I trowe,
It were myn ease to lyve in pease; so wyl I yf I can;
Wherfore I to the wode wyl goo alone a banysshid man.

Though in the wood I understode ye had a paramour,

All this may nought remeve my thought; bat that I wil be your;
And she shal fynde me softe and kynde, and curteis every our,
Glad to fulfylle all that she wylle commaunde me to my power i
For had ye, loo, an hondred moo, yet wolde I be that one.
For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but you alone,

Myn

Myn awne dere love, I see the prove, that ye be kynde and trewe;
Of mayde and wyf, in all my lyf, the best that ever I knewe.

Be mery and glad; be no more sad; the case is chaunged newe;
For it were ruthe that for your trouth you shuld have cause to rewe.
Be not dismayed; whatsoever I sayd to you whan I began,

I wyl not too the grene wod goo; I am noo banysshyd man.

Theis tidingis be more glad to me than to be made a Quene,
Yf I were sure they shuld endure; but it is often seen,

When men wyl breke promyse, they speke the wordis on the splene.
Ye shape some wyle me to begyle and stele fro me I wene;
Then were the case wurs than it was, and I more woo begone;
For in my mynde of all mankynde I love but you alone.

Ye shal not nede further to drede: I wyl not dispage,
You God defende; sith you descende, of so grete a lynage,
Now understonde, to Westmerlande, whiche is my hery tage,
I wyl you bringe, and wyth a rynge, Le wey of maryage,
I wyl you take, and lady make, as shortly as I can,
Thus have ye wone an Erles son, and not a banysshyd man.

Here may ye see, that wymen be in love meke kinde and stable.
Late never man repreve them than, or calle them variable;
But rather prey God that we may to them be comfortable,
Whiche somtyme provyth suche as loveth, yf they be charitable.
For sith men wolde that wymen sholde be meke to them echeon,
Moche more ought they to God obey, and serve but hym alone."

ART. II. A Divine Centurie of Spirituall Sonnets. "Altera Musa venit, quid ni sit et alter Apollo." London: Printed by John Windet. 1595. 4to. 31 leaves.

These sonnets have already been hinted at in CENSURA, III. 173. They are inscribed by Barnabe Barnes to his very good Lorde, Tobie [Matthews]

"

*

Bishop and Comte Palatine of Duresme and Sadberge." B. Barnes, according to Wood, was the son of Richard B. bishop of Durham, was born in Yorkshire, about 1569, and at the age of seventeen became a student of Brasen Nose College, Oxord, but left the university without a degree. In 1591 he appears to have accompanied a military expedition to France, † under the Earl of Essex, where (if satiric Nash is to be credited) he acquired no laurels as a warrior. After his return he published "Parthenophil and Parthenope;" a most rare collection of sonnets, madrigals, &c. described by Mr. Beloe in his Anecdotes of Literature, II. 77; § and he took part with Harvey against Nash, by contributing three sonnets || to Pierce's Supererogation,

• Athen. Oxon. I. 350.

† In the dedication to Bp. Matthews, he also speaks of "this last yeere [1594] in his late travailes had through some partes of France," as devoted to the daily and prescribed task of composing his spiritual poems.

‡ This work is inscribed to "M. William Percy, Esq. his dearest friend:" doubtless the same person who published Sonnets to the fairest Cælia, 1594, and closed them with a madrigal to Parthenophil. See CINSURA, III. 374.

The unique cory cited by Mr. Beloe, was obtained by the Bishop of Rochester for a mere trifle; and the copy of Barnes's Spiritual Sonnets, now before me, which may also be unique, was obtained from a London bookseller's catalogue, about fifteen years ago, for the sum of six pence. Such, however, is now the furor of competition at book-sales, that it might be struggled for at six pounds.

One of these, addressed to Harvey, has the signature of Barnabe Barnes, and is dated from his " lodging in Holborne, June 1593." Another, signed Parthenophil, is entitled "Nash, or the confuting gentleman :" and a third, signed Parthenope, is superscribed ❝ Harvey, or the sweet doctour:" which, from its incidental mention of contemporary writers, I am induced to extract.

"Sidney, sweet cignet, pride of Thamesis,
Apollo's laurel, Mars his proud prowesse

Bodnit,

rerogation, 1593. This drew upon him, as was to be expected, the contumelious asperity of Harvey's bitter opponent, in his "Have with you to Saffron Walden," 1596: where the following sarcasm on the title-page of the present work occurs. "Of late he (Barnabe of the Barnes) hath set foorth another booke, which he entitles no lesse then A Divine Centurie of Sonets: and prefixeth for his posie, Altera Musa venit, quid ni sit et alter Apollo? As much to say as, 'Why may not my Muse be as great an Apollo, or god of poetrie, as the proudest of them?' But it comes as farre short, as Paris-Garden Cut of the heigth of a cammell, or a cock-boate of a carricke. Such another device it is, as the godly ballet of John Carelesse, or the song of

Bodine, register of realmes happinesse,

Which Italye's and Fraunce's wonder is;
Hatcher, with silence whom I may not misse,
Nor Lewen, rhetorique's richest noblesse,
Nor Wilson, whose discretion did redresse
Our English barbarisme; adjoyne to this
Divinest morall Spencer; let these speake
By their sweet letters, which do best unfould
Harvey's deserved prayse; since my Muse weake,
Cannot relate so much as hath bene tould
By these forenam'd; then vaine it were to bring

New feather to his fame's swift-feathered wing."

Nash has the following gibe at this complimentary tribute, in his “Have with you," &c. a pamphlet that seems to have closed the wordy conflict between himself and Gab. Harvey. "Here is another sonet of his [B. Barnes], which he calls, Harvey or the sweet doctour, consisting of Sidney, Bodine, Hatcher, Lewen, Wilson, Spencer, that all their life time have done nothing but conspire to lawd and honour poet Gabriell! Respond. Miserum est fuisse felicem. It is a miserable thing for a man to be said to have had friends, and now to have nere a one left."

* Cut seems to have been the cant term for a horse: and the Paris-Garden fut was probably a conjuring pony, or possibly Bankes's horse.

Greene

Greene Sleeves✶ moralized." + Wood further records of Barnes, that he published "Five Books of Offices,"

• Mr. Steevens has pointed out a ballad of "Greene Sleeves moralized to the Scriptures," as licensed to Edw. White in 1580. See Reed's Shaksp. V. 64.

Nash thus proceeds to lampoon, not only the heroism but the honesty of Barnes :-"For his Cavaliership, it is lewder by nine score times than his poetry, since his doughty service in France five years ago: where having followed the campe for a week or two, and seeing there was no care had of keeping the Queene's peace, but a man might have his braines knockt out, and no justice or constable neere hand to send forth precepts, and make hue and crie after the murdrers; without further tarrying or consultation, to the generall he went and told him he did not like of this quarrelling kinde of life and common occupation of murdring, wherein (without any jurie or triall, or giving them so much leave as to saye their praiers) men were run thorough and had their throats cut, both against God's lawes, her Majestie's lawes, and the lawes of all nations. Wherefore he desir'd license to depart; for he stood everie houre in feare and dread of his person, and it was alwaies his praier From suddain death good Lord deliver us!' Upon this motion there were divers warlike knights and principall captaines, who rather than they would be bereaved of his pleasant companie, offered to picke out a strong guard amongst them for the safe engarrisoning and better shielding him from perill. Two stept forth and presented themselves as muskettiers before him; a third and fourth, as targatiers behinde him; a fifth and sixt vowd to trie it out at the push of the pike, before the malicious foe should invade him. But home he would (nothing could stay him) to finish Parthenophil and Parthenope,' and write in praise of Gabriell Harvey! He was wise; he lov'd no blowes.-One of the best articles against Barnes I have overslipt, which is, that he is in print for a braggart, in that universall applauded Latine poem of Master Campion's, where in an epigram entituled In Barnum,eginning thus, Mortales decem tela inter Gallica casos, he shewes how he brag'd, when he was in France he slew ten men; when (fearfull cowbaby) he never heard piece shot off, but he fell flat on his face. To this effect it is, though the words somewhat varie.

"What his Souldership is, I cannot judge: but if you have ever a Chaine for him to runne awaye with, as he did with a nobieman's steward's chayne, at his Lord's installing at Windsore, he is for you.”

Wood has not specified whether this was a translation from Cicero De Officiis.

in