Bi Literal Cypher of Francis Bacon

!
î'-literal
Cypher of
J^rancis SSacon.
AM
in good hope that if the first reading move an objection, the second reading will make an answer. Adv. of L.
ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP
THE
Bi-literal
of
Cypher
S" Francis Bacon

difcovered in his works
AND DECIPHERED BY
M/^S.
ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP

THIRD EDITION
DETROIT. MICHIGAN, U.S.A.:
HOWARD
PUBLISHING
LONDON:
COMPANY
GAY
6 BIRD
St.
2i Bedford
Copyright, 1901.
BY
V.
KING MOORE.
Entered at Stationers' Hall,

London,
1 901.
All rights reserved.
M16641
CONTENTS*
PAET
Personal
I.
Mrs.
Elizabeth Wells Gallup
1
5
Explanatory Introduction First Edition

Preface, Second Edition
15
Argument
Notes on the Shakespeare Plays
18
28
35
Stenography in the time of Queen Elizabeth Francis Bacon, Biographical

Ciphers
39
46
Cyphars in Advancement of Learning, 1605 Cyphars in De Augmentis Bi-literal Cipher Plan and Illustration Fac-simile pages from De Augmentis, 1624 Fac-simile pages from Novum Organum, 1620
Fac-simile
title
4^
50 51
55
61
67
page Vitae
et
Mortis
Method
of Cipher in
Novum Organum
Quarto Title Pages
73
76
Publisher's Note
Shakespeare Plays
^Fac-simile
85
BI-LITERAL CYPHER. DECIPHERED SECRET STORY. 1579

Shepherd's Calender
1579
. .
to 1590.
79
Anonymous
George Peele Robert Greene Robert Greene
T. Bright
The Ar aygfnement of Paris The Mirrour of Modestie.

Planetomachia A Treatise of Melancholy.
.1584
.1584
80 82
87
1585
. .
.1586
89 91 93
Euphues-Morando
Perimedes-Pandosto Spanish Masquerado
1587
1588
1589
Robert Greene Robert Greene Robert Greene
94
PAKT
II.
DECIPHERED SECRET STORY FROM

EDMUND SPENSER:
Complaints, 1591
Colin Clout, 1595
PAGE 1
3 4 7
Faerie Queene, 1596
Faerie Queene, second part
SHAKESPEARE QUARTO:
Richard Second, 1598
10
GEORGE PEELE:
David and Bethsabe
11
SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS:
Midsommer Night's Dream, 1600 Midsommer Night's Dream, Fisher Ed Much Ado About Nothing, 1600
Sir
12 13 14
John Oldcastle and Merchant

1600
of Venice, Roberts Ed.,

15
Richard,
Duke
of York, 1600
18
FRANCIS BACON:
.
Treasons of Essex, 1601
20
SHAKESPEARE QUARTO:
London
Prodigal, 1605
23
FRANCIS BACON:
Advancement
of Learning, 1605
25
King Lear, 1608 King Henry The
Pericles, 1609
33
Fifth, 1608
34 35
36
38
Hamlet, 1611 Titus Andronicus, 1611
EDMUND SPENSER:
Shepheards Calender, 1611
Faerie Queene, 1613
PAGE 40
43
BEN JONSON:
Plays in Folio, 1616
49
Richard The Second, 1615 Merry Wives of Windsor, 1619 Contention of York and Lancaster, 1619
Pericles, 1619
72
73
74
77
Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619
78
79
Romeo and
Juliet,
no date
ROBERT GREENE: A Quip For an
Upstart Courtier, 1620
80
FRANCIS BACON: Novum Organum,
1620
81 133
The Parasceve Henry The Seventh,
1622
136
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE:
Edward The Second,
1622
,
151
FRANCIS BACON:
Historia Vitae
&
Mortis, 1623
153
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS:
First Folio, 1623
165
ROBERT BURTON:
Anatomy
of Melancholy, 1628
218 220
"Argument
of the Iliad"
FRANCIS BACON:
De Augmentis Scientiarum, "Argument of the Odysses"
1624
310
313
New
Atlantis, 1635
334
339 341 368
Sylva Sylvarum, 1635, Rawley's Preface Natural History
William Rawley's Note
CONCORDANT INDEX OF DECIPHERED WORK

FRANCIS BACON:
Parentage2,
347, 351.
4,
17,
23,
45,
57,
78,
139,
172,
208,
312, 334,
Heir to Throne of England 5,

205, 311, 342, 350, 353.
10, 14, 16, 20, 28, 33, 38, 49,
53, 66, 75, 83, 91, 100, 129, 132, 137, 141, 152, 166, 177, 190, 201,
Story of Life28,
49, 55, 65, 83, 108, 109, 119, 121, 133, 153, 166,
172, 181, 186, 190, 192, 200, 206, 208, 310, 343, 335.
Remorse over Essex and

112, 160, 181, 211.
self justification
21, 40, 47, 104,
Fârs1,
346, 348.
3, 9, 11, 13, 27, 69, 81, 102, 129, 148, 187,
212, 343,
Hope from the Ages13,

201, 208, 312, 346, 348.
27, 36, 47, 49, 53, 71, 82, 116, 189, 190,
Hope
of
Kingdom
of
46.
Kingdom
Science190,
312.
Prayers42,
104, 139, 160, 178, 186, 211, 338.

71, 189, 190, 201, 219, 358.
Posterity16,
QUEEN ELIZABETH:
1, 5, 10, 14, 16, 19, 22, 28, 33, 38, 41, 51, 59, 67, 69, 73, 83, 90,
108,
111, 119, 121, 130, 137, 154, 172, 177, 179, 181, 199, 205, 210, 311,
334, 351, 366.
EARL LEICESTER:
1, 4, 16, 17, 45, 59, 69, 71, 75, 84,
140, 207, 210, 359, 363.
Their Marriage3,
16, 22, 28, 38, 46, 73, 75, 83, 90, 108, 133,
139, 142, 154, 172, 312, 334.
EARL OP ESSEX:
14, 17, 43, 59, 62, 68, 84, 111, 134, 183, 210, 310, 353, 360.
Essex Rebellion20,
29, 38, 40, 47, 76, 172, 180, 208.
Essex Trial42,
172.
55, 112, 151, 159, 172, 174, 178, 188.
Essex Murther20,
MARY QUEEN OP
61, 63, 68, 362.
SCOTS:
Death Warrant signed by Davison
365.
MARGUERITE OF NAVARRE:
12, 72, 79, 118, 120, 174, 181, 203, 205, 214, 311, 336, 345.
ROBERT
CECIL:
10, 12, 18, 28, 172, 174, 335, 362.
WILLIAM RAWLEY:
137, 340, 368.
PRIVATE SECRETARY (RAWLEY):

198.
CIPHERS:
Bi-literal23, 25, 37, 51,
65, 70, 102, 111, 118, 120, 126, 129, 136,
165, 167, 189, 192, 196, 203, 215, 218, 310, 338, 357.
Word 38,
40, 47, 49, 52, 54, 56, 69, 75, 80, 82, 84, 101, 106, 110,
114, 118, 143, 148, 155, 159, 161, 165, 171, 177, 181, 183, 187, 189,
191, 194, 200, 215, 218, 312, 343, 346.
Other Ciphers21,
338, 340.
37, 47, 66, 118, 152, 166, 181, 191, 196, 310,
Directions 34,
40, 47, 49, 51, 55, 57, 98, 122, 147, 151, 310, 338.
Method
Iterant
of Construction 53, 94, 119, 146, 187, 196, 214, 341,
343, 356, 360.
Rules52,
215, 349, 352.
Bi-literal
made
difficult66, 67, 82, 101, 136, 196.
MASQUES USED:
Edmund Spenser4,
204, 311.
10,
27,
53,
81,
85,
111,
168,
180,
198,
William Shakespeare3,
Christopher
200, 204, 349.
39, 54, 56, 63, 70. 93. 101, 111, 115,
157, 158, "166, 181, 198, 200, 204, 348.
Marlowe3,
10, 26, 53, 93, 111, 166, 180, 181, 198.
Robert Greene 3,
311, 349.
10, 26, 53, 111, 166, 180, 181, 198, 200, 204,
George Peele 3,
204, 214, 311, 349.
10, 26, 53, 93, 111, 152, 166, 180, 181, 198, 200,
Robert Burton 10,
111, 114, 152, 198, 200, 204.
Ben Jonson 26,
54, 59, 68, 111.
PARTIES KNOWING OP THE HIDDEN WORK:

76.
CIPHER WRITINGS:
165, 166, 202.
HIDDEN PLAYS:
23, 59, 90, 97, 103, 117, 125, 151, 180, 189, 194, 213, 352, 360, 367.
HIDDEN POEMS:
36, 95, 118, 165, 175, 202, 345.
NEW ATLANTIS COMPLETED IN CIPHER:

47, 130, 165, 359.
SPANISH ARMADA IN CIPHER:

63, 184, 199.
ARGUMENTS OP THE HIDDEN PLAYS:

5, 60, 85, 92.
TRANSLATIONS:
34, 36, 49, 53, 57, 114, 151, 165, 166, 167, 169, 170, 171, 173, 180,
202, 204, 214, 216, 218, 219, 341, 345, 352, 360.
Iliad220.
Odyssey 312.
ORIGINAL EDITIONS OF WORKS USED IN DECIPHERING. CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED.
EDMUND SPENSER:
Complaints,
1590-1591
Colin Clout, 1595 The Faerie Queene, 1596
The Shepherd's Calendar, The Faerie Queene, 1613
1611
Co. and Harvard Library. Howard Publishing Co. ' Howard Publishing Co.
Dodd, Mead Dodd, Mead Dodd, Mead
& & &
Co.
Co.
ROBERT GREENE: A Quip for an Upstart

1620
Courtier,
Marshall C. Lefferts,
New
York.
GEORGE PEELE:
David and Bathsabe,
1599
Boston Public Library.
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE:
Edward
II.,
1622
Howard Publishing
Co.
BEN JONSON:
Entertainment, 1616 King's Coronation, 1616 A Panegyre, 1616 The Masques, 1616 ,
Sejanus, 1616 Plays, in Folio, 1616. (Perfect copy.)
'.
Mrs. Mrs. Mrs. Mrs. Mrs.
C. C. C. C. C.
M. M. M. M. M.
Pott, London, Eng. Pott, London, Eng. Pott, London, Eng.

Pott, London, Eng.
.
Pott, London, Eng.
Marshall C. LefEerts,
New
York.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE:
Richard
II., 1598
Midsummer Night's Dream, Roberts Ed., 1600
Lenox Library, New York.

BostOH Public Library.
Nothing,
1600.... Boston
Midsummer
Night's Dream, Fish-
er Ed.. 1600
Much Ado About

Sir
Public Library.
Boston and Lenox Libraries. John Oldcastle, 1600 Merchant of Venice, J. Roberts Boston Public Library. Ed.. 1600
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: Richard Duke of York Henry VI.), 1600 A London Prodigal, 1605
King Lear, 1608 Henry V., 1608
Pericles, 1609
(Third
Lenox Library.
Boston Boston Boston Boston Boston Boston Boston
Public Public Public Public Public Public Public
Library. Library. Library. Library. Library. Library. Library.
Hamlet, 1611 Titus Andronicus, 1611 Richard IL, 1615 Merry Wives of Windsor, 1619 The Whole Contention of the
Houses
of
York and Lancaster,

1619
(Second Henry VL),

Pericles, 1619
Yorkshire Tragedy,
Juliet,
1623
1619
Romeo and
(No date)
Boston Boston Boston Boston
and Lenox Libraries. and Lenox Libraries. and Lenox Libraries.

Public Library. Publishing Co.
Plays in Folio,
Howard
and
Boston and Lenox Libraries.
FRANCIS BACON:
Declaration of the Treasons of John Dane, M. D., Boston, Mass., Essex, 1601.^ and Boston Library. Advancement of Learning, 1605.... Ho ward Publishing Co. Howard Publishing Co. Novum Organum, 1620 Howard Publishing Co. The Parasceve, 1620 Howard Publishing Co. History of Henry VII., 1622 John Dane, M. D., Boston, Mass. Vitae et Mortis, 1623 De Augmentis Scientiarum, 1624... Mrs. C. M. Pott, London, Eng. Howard Publishing Co. New Atlantis, 1635 Howard Publishing Co. Sylva Sylvarum, 1635
."
ROBERT BURTON:
The Anatomy
of Melancholy,
1628..
Ho ward
Publishing Co.
PART
I.
The human understanding, when

an opinion
port and agree with
it
has once adopted
(either as being the received opinion, or as being agreeable to itself), draws all things else to sup-
And though there be a greater it. of instances to be found on the other side, yet these he neglects and despises, or else by some distinction sets aside and rejects, in order that by this great and pernicious predetermination the authority of its
number and weight
former conclusions
may
be inviolate.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
For as Soloman saith: He that cometh to seek after knowledge, with a mind to scorn and censure, shall be sure to find matter for his humor, but no matter for his
instruction.
ADV. OF LEARNING.
have set it down as a law to ourselves to examine things to the bottom, and not to receive upon credit, or reject upon Improbabilities, until there have been passed a due examination.
We
NATURAL HISTORY.
to
it
it
In which sort of things it is the manner of men, first wonder that such thing should be possible, and after is found out, to wonder again how the world should miss so long.
VALERIUS TERMINUS.
PEESONAL.
TO THE READER:
The discovery
of the existence of the Bi-literal Cipher
of Francis Bacon, found embodied in his works, and the
deciphering of what
it tells,
has been a work arduous, exis
hausting and prolonged.

of the
It
not ended, but the results
work
so far
brought forth, are submitted for study

field of investi-
and open a new and large gation and research, which cannot fail to and
discussion,
interest all stu-
dents of the earlier literature that has

a mirror of the past,
as
come down
to us as
and in many respects has been adopted
models for the present.

Seeking for things hidden, the mysterious, elusive and
unexpected, has a fascination for

for
many
minds, as
it
has
my
own, and
this often
prompts to greater
effort
than
more manifest and material things would command.

this
To
diffi-
may
be attributed, perhaps, the triumph over

to
culties
which have seemed
me, at times, insurmountable,
the solution of problems, and the following of ways tor-
tuous and obscure, which have been necessary to bring out,

as they
sp.ges
appear in the following pages, the hidden mes-
ings, that three
which Francis Bacon so securely buried in his writhundred years of reading and close study nave not until now uncovered them. This Bi-literal Cipher is found in the Italic letters that
Students of these old
appear in such unusual and unexplained prodigality in the

original editions of Bacon's works.
editions
have been impressed with the extraordinary num-
ber of words and passages, often non-important, printed in
where no known rule of construction would require their use. There has been no reasonable explanation of this until now it is found that they were so used for the
Italics,
PERSONAL.
These
purpQses of this Oiplier.

V-.i-^s^;
for2ns-4-tw-0 fonts of type
with
letters are seen to
be in
distin-
marked
differences.
In the Capitals these are
easily discerned,
letters,
but the
from age of the books, blots and poor printing, have been more difficult to classify, and close examination and study have been required to separate and sketch out the variations, and eduguishing features in the small
cate the eye to distinguish them.
How
will
I found
the
Cipher,
its
difficulties,
methods of
working, and outline of what the several books contain,
more
fully appear in the explanatory introduction.
In
lished,
assisting Dr.
Owen
in the preparation of the later
books of "Sir Francis Bacon's Cipher Story," recently pub-
and in the study of the great Word-Cipher discovis incorporated Bacon's more extensive, more complete and important writings, I became convinced that the very full explanation found in De Augmentis, of the bi-literal method of cipher-writing, was
ered by him, in which
something more than a mere
treatise
on the subject.
applied the rules given to the peculiarly Italicised words
and
tJie
^letters in
two forms,"
as
they appear in the photo-
graphic Fac-simile of the original 1623, Folio edition, of
Shakespeare Plays.
The
disclosures, aS
they appear in
this
volume, were as great a surprise to me, as they will
be to
my
readers.
Original editions of Bacon's
known
works were then procured,
as well as those of other authors
named
in these,
story deciphered
eral headings.
and claimed by Bacon as his own. The from these will also appear under the sevall these, it is
From
that
to
the disclosures found in

this Bi-literal
it
evident
first
Bacon expected
Cipher would be the
would lead to the discovery of his principal, or Word-Cipher, which it fully explains, and to which is intrusted the larger subjects he desired to have preserved. This order has been reversed, in fact, and the earlier discovery of the Word-Cipher, by Dr. Owen, becomes a more remarkable achievement, being entirely
be discovered, and that
PERSONAL.
evolved without the aids which Bacon had prepared in
for
its
this,
ehicidation.
The
ser,
proofs are overwhelming and irresistible that
Bacon
was the author of the delightful
the
lines attributed to Spen-
fantastic conceits of Peele
torical
immortal plays and poems put forth in Shakespeare's name, as well as the
of Melancholy of Burton. of these masques, behind which
romances of Marlowe,
the
and Greene,
^the his-
Anatomy
The removal
concealed himself,
idols.
Bacon
that
may change
the names of some of our
It
is,
however, the matter and not the
name
appeals to our intelligence.
The
plays of Shakespeare lose nothing of their dramatic
power or wondrous beauty, nor deserve the less admiration of the scholar and critic, because inconsistencies are removed in the knowledge that they came from the brain of the greatest student and writer of that age, and were not
a "flash of genius" descended
less
upon one of peasant
birth,
noble history, and of no preparatory literary attainments.
The Shepherds' Calendar
is
not less sweetly poetical,
because Francis Bacon appropriated the

several years after his death, under
name
of Spenser,
which
to put forth the
musical measures, that had, up to that time, only appeared

as the production of
some Muse without a name; nor

its
will
Faerie Queene lose ought of

interest
rythmic beauty or romantic

title
from change of name upon the
page.
The supposed
are
writings of Peele, Greene and
Marlowe
not the
less
worthy, because really written by one
greater than either.
The remarkable
attracted
similarity in the dramatic writings at-
Marlowe and Shakespeare has and the biographers of each have claimed that both style and subject-matter have been imitated, if not appropriated, by the others. The practical explanation lies in the fact that one hand wrote them all.
tributed to Greene, Peele,
much
attention,
PERSONAL.
I fully appreciate what
it means to bring forth new from unexpected and unknown fields, if not in accord with accented theories and long held beliefs. ^Tor what a man had rather were true, he more readily be-
truth
lieves,"
is
one of Bacon's truisms that finds
many
to
illus-
trations.
I appreciate what
it
means
to ask strong
minds
change
long standing literary convictions, and of such I venture

to ask the withholding of
judgment
until study shall have
made
while,
the
new matter
familiar, with the assurance
mean-
upon
is
my
part, of the absolute veracity of the
work
which
books,
here presented.
has
sufi[icient
Any
one possessing the original

illustrations
who
patience and a keen eye for form,
can work out and verify the Cipher from the

given.
tion.
ISTothing
is
left to choice, chance, or the
imagina-
The
statements which are disclosed are such as could
not be foreseen, nor imagined, nor created, nor can there be
found reasonable excuse for the hidden writings, except for the purposes narrated, which could only exist concerning,
and be described by, Francis Bacon. I would beg that the readers of this book will bring to the consideration of the wôrk minds free from prejudice, judging of it with the same intelligence and impartiality they would themselves desire, if the presentation were their own. Otherwise the work will, indeed, have been a thankless task.
To doubt
to light
the ultimate acceptance of the truths brought

distrust that destiny in
would be to had such an abiding

in
fact,
faith for his justification,

centuries, has
lifted
which Bacon and which,
after three
the veil, and
brought us to estimate the character and accomplishments,

trials
and sorrows of that great genius, with a feeling of
nearness and personal sympathy, far greater than has been

possible
from the
partial
knowledge which we have here-
tofore enjoyed.
ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP.

Detroit,
March
1st, 1899.
EXPLANATORY INTRODUCTION.
(FIRST EDITION.)
The most important literary discovery of the day is that the well known Bi-literal Cipher of Francis Bacon runs through a considerable number of the original editions The present volof the books of the Elizabethan era. Gallup^ The present vol(^made by Mrs. Elizabeth Wells
umeiis the result of nearly three years spent in examining
and translating from these old books the hidden stories which they contain stories startling and marvelous, which,
serve to illumine
much
and
that has been mysterious and unex-
plainable concerning a most interesting period

scientific progress
marked by
high order.
prolific in literature of a
It
was an age of intrigue and secret communication, and

life.
cipher writing was a necessary branch of education to those

in public
To
Francis Bacon
life,
it
became an absorbing
passion throughout his
as
volimiinous and important matter

in his writings
may be judged from the now found to be infolded

now, escaped attention.
and which
has, until
In
his
work published
in 1605,
"Of the Advancement of

at,
Learning," he makes a topic of Ciphers, as a branch of

educational progress, and hints
but does not explain,
the bi-literal method of Cipher-writing, while he was at

the same time infolding, in the Italic letters of the book
itseK portions of his
own
secret history,
and
facts concern-
ing the rebellion of Essex, in the manner in which he

asserts
such messages might be hidden.

continued to write Ciphers into his various works,
He
published from time to time, until 1623, when, none
having discovered the
secret, the
its
very success of the system
seeming likely to defeat
object,
and when
all
personal
INTRODUCTION.
danger from a premature exposure of what he had written
was
past,
he published in the Latin version of "De Aug-
mentis Scientiarum" a clear and minute description and

illustration of this Cipher,
hoping that
less
stood,
and fearing that nothing
would be underwould lead to its disit
covery and translation.
The
occasion for writing in cipher has been
made
appar-
it became the means of conveying to a future time the truth which was being concealed from the world concerning himself, his royal birth his right to be King of England secrets of State regarding Queen Elizabeth his mother and other prominent characters of that day the correction of English history in important particulars, and the exposure of the wrongs that had been put upon him.
ent as the decipherings have progressed, for
tions of his latter days,
and most important of all to the ambiwas the hope of thus bringing to the knowledge of the world the greater field of literature which he had occupied, unknown at that time, and unsuspected until recently, as the author of many books which
to this,
Added
had been accredited

craved, and which
to other
names, and thereby secure in
the world of letters the wider fame and glory which he
was
his just due.
The names,
other than his own, under which
Bacon
published the brilliant literature of that era, were Christo-
pher Marlowe, George Peele, Eobert Greene,

Ciphers (more than one) are found in
literal
all these.
Edmimd
The
Bi-
Spenser, "William Shakespeare, and Eobert Burton.
The
Cipher runs through the works of Ben Jonson and
five of the shorter parts are
from Bacon's pen. Shepherds' Calendar was first published in 15T9, nor was it till 1611, twelve years after Spenser's death, that it was published
That Francis Bacon wrote the Shakespeare Plays, and
the existence of Ciphers in them, has long been suspected, and much time and study devoted to arguing, ^ro and con^
with Eaerie Queene and attributed to Spenser.
INTRODUCTION.
the several phases and probabilities of the question. The same questions had not been raised, nor suggestion of other authorship than appears upon the title pages, regarding the others, until the discovery by Dr. 0. W. Owen of the principal, or Word-Cipher, in the works of all of thenr, portions
of which have already been published
as
"Sir
Francis
Bacon's Cipher Story."

the Word-Cipher
The
translation of this bi-literal

its
Cipher in the following pages, with

is
directions as to
how
to
be constructed, the keys to the
different stories to be written, the guides as to find the matter pertaining to them, fully confirms
where to what had
already been found by Dr. Owen, and removes
all possible
doubt as to Bacon's authorship.
den
In the present volume is presented that part of the hidAvritings which the bi-literal Cipher reveals in the fol(1605),
lowing works:
Learning,
Francis Bacon's Of the Advancement ^King Henry Seventh, (1622),
of
^De
Augmentis Scientiarum, (1624) Sylva-Sylvarum and 'New Atlantis, (published by Kawley, 1635), Spenser's Shepherds' Calendar and short poems, (1611), Faerie Queene, Jonson's Sejanus, and Masques, (1616), (1613), Mar-
lowe's (Folio
Edward Second, (1622), ^the" Shakespeare Plays, 1623),Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, (1628).
all
In
of these are fragments of Bacon's personal history,
the statement that Elizabeth was the lawful wife of the
Earl of Leicester by a secret marriage, before becoming
cis
marriage was two sons, Franand Robert Devereux, afterward Earl of Essex; that Francis was at birth received by Mistress Ann Bacon and was reared and educated as the son of
issue of this
Queen; that the

Bacon,
so-called,
Nicholas Bacon.
It appears that at about the age of six-
teen Francis discovered the facts of his nativity through

the gossip of a Court lady, and in a fit of anger the Queen acknowledged to him her motherhood and his son-ship, and that he was immediately thereafter sent to France, and subsequent action was taken by which he was barred from
INTRODUCTION.
In several of the books, though more notably in the Shakespeare Plays, are explanathe succession to the throne.
tions of the "great
keys to the different

deciphering them.
Word-Cipher which shows all," with stories, their titles and directions for
In the Shakespeare Plays, the chief dramatic work of is found the most important of the secret writings committed to the Ciphers. Here, in. exttnso, are the principal directions and manner of writing the Word-Cipher,
Bacon,
the keys and guides, the different works to be used and the
names under which they appear, the titles of the hidden stories to be written out, and where the matter of which
they are to be constructed
brother, Robert,
may
be found.
Much
space
is
devoted to the secret personal history of himself and his
which the Queen saw fit to have concealed from general knowledge. His references to the trial and execution of Essex and the part he was forced to take in his prosecution, are the subject of a continual wail of unhappiness and ever-present remorse, with hopes and prayers that the truth hidden in the Cipher may be found out, and published to the world "0 God! forgiveness cometh from in his justification. Thee; shut not this truest book, my God! Shut out my if it soe please Thee, and ^love's little sunny hour, past, some of man's worthy work, yet Essex's tragedy here shew forth; then posterity shall know him truly."
The
various Introductions, Dedications, the Catalogue
of Plays and Characters, the Prologues, the headings of
the different Comedies, Histories
and Tragedies
(in the
order named), comprising
a series of short passages, giving
general directions for the work, are complete in themselves,
and
at the
end of each division occurs seme one of the
sig-
natures by which Bacon was known, as if to authenticate
what had been written. The more connected narrative

and in the Plays themselves
is
in the Plays,
combined
in the order as given (in cipher) in the E'atural History,

as the deciphering advanced.
INTRODUCTION.
In
this order the plays are linked together in the
most
unmistakable manner, parts of words and sentences unfinished at the end of one finding completion or continuance
in the next.
Eour breaks or omissions
occur, however,
from
inability thus far to gain access to the original edi-
tions of the books required, and from the fact that the modern editions do not contain this Bi-literal, though the Word-Cipher is easily traced in them. The first missing link is Peele's Old Wives' Tale, which should precede
Twelfth
precede
Night.
Its
absence causes the latter to begin
abruptly, showing the omission of something which should

it
in the deciphering.
The second omission The
is
the
Pinner of Wakefield, published as Greene's work, which

should precede the Merchant of Venice.
sion
is
third omis-
the
Jew
of Malta, of Marlowe, which should precede
the
at the
Merry Wives of Windsor. The fourth missing link is end of Much Ado About Nothing, which closes with
Hiren the Fairs Greek
(sup-
an incomplete sentence, the remainder of which will be
found in the Tale of Troy.

ter's Tale,
posed to be a lost play) should follow this and precede Win-
which
last
begins with a continuation of some-
thing to be found in the missing work.

these books
is
The absence
of
not material, however, as the substance of

is
the Bi-literal story
so often repeated in the other works,
they are not necessary to an understanding of the whole.
as
On another page is copied from De Augmentis, as nearly may be with modern type, the illustration of the method
by means
of ^letters in two
of infolding cipher writings
forms," the letters infolding being (quintuple thiose infolded.
This plan was applied to the Italic
letters, in
the
books mentioned, with results which have been most surprising in the variety
The
rule
is
and simple and
interest of the deciphered work.

easily
comprehended, but
many
stumbling blocks occur in the books, placed there with the

evident purpose of
which bring confusion
making the deciphering more difiicult, Each to the work until removed.
10
INTRODUCTION.
its
book has
own
peculiarities
different letters
and forms
as it
a separate study.
The
first
page of Henry YII.,

letters,
herein appears, will explain some peculiarities, the changes

in the readings of the
same forms of
the meaning
of the dots and other unusual markings, which close stu-
dents of the old books have noted.
Occasionally will be
found a
Roman
letter in an Italic word; this has to be disItalic letters occur in a
regarded.
Not infrequently
is
word,
must be used. There are occasional words in Roman type between words in Italic that have to be used to form the groups necessary In the illustration given in to complete a Cipher word. the original De Augmentis, one of the Latin words ends
the remainder of which
in
Roman;
these
with a wrong termination, making one too

the group, and must be .omitted.
many
is
letters for
The
error
corrected in
the English translation of 1640 and in subsequent editions.
One
of the most puzzling of the
many
strange things
that have been observed but not explained has been the
duplication and misplaced paging in the originals.

all
These
the books that have been deciphered. occur in nearly There are several in the Folio Shakespeare Plays, and they
are
still
more prominent
in
some of the other works.
list is
appended, with explanation of the pages which are to
be joined together in the deciphering. They bring the work into instant confusion, until the proper duplicate page
is
found and the two joined together in the order of preall
cedence in which they occur, until

story until
of that
number
are
deciphered, after which the consecutive pages continue the
some other break occurs, which has in turn to Sometimes three, and in Advancebe properly solved. ment of Learning four misplaced pages are found of the same number in the same book. To illustrate more fully: the first T\Tong paging in the Folio Shakespeare occurs in Merry Wives of Windsor. After page 49 are 58-51. In the consecutive order there-
"
INTRODUCTION.
is
11
after,
first
and following 58,
another 51.
In deciphering, the
51
is
58 must be omitted until the
first
deciphered;
this
must be followed by the second
51, then the regular
When page 57 has been deciphered, it order resumed. must be followed by the first 58, and this by the second 58. There is no 50 or 59 in this division. In Comedy of Errors, page 85 is followed by page 88, then 87, then 88 again. In deciphering, page 85 must be followed by 87, this by the first 88, and this by the second 88. There is
no 86.
In Tempest,
etc.
as
deciphered,
this
direction
occurs:
Juliet
"]Nôw join Ejing Lear,
Ih the closing
story.
King John, Romeo lines of King John,

Cressida if
&
this:
"Join
Romeo
with Troy^s famous
you wish
my
Cressida in this play with Juliet, b
know " which

to
ends the Cipher in King John, with an incomplete word.
Turning
to
Romeo and
Juliet (page 53) the remainder of

is
the word, and the broken sentence
continued, being a
part of the description of Marguerite,
and the love Francis
entertained for her.
The deciphering
page
is
of
Romeo and
Juliet proceeded with-
out interruption until page 76 was finished.

79, but an attempt to go forward with
The next
it
brought
confusion, the subject-matter not joining or relating to the
preceding subject.
After much speculation and study, it was recalled that Troilus and Cressida was to follow, and
that the first page of that play was 78. trial of this page brought out the letter and words which connected with those on page 76 of Romeo and Juliet. At the end
of 79, of Troilus and Cressida, again came confusion, but by joining Romeo and Juliet, 79, to this^ and following by page 80 of Troilus and Cressida, the narration was continued in proper order. There is no page 77 in Romeo and Juliet, or in this division of the book.
Had
the Cipher, been less arbitrary, or subject to varia-
tion, or the story
the invention of the decipherer,
less
time

12
INTRODUCTION.
and study would have been spent in finding joining parts, and nothing would have been known of the reasons for
wrong paging. Some Keys
relating to other Cipher
work not yet
deci-
phered are omitted.

Spelling was not an exact science in any of the works Bacon and if the old English is thought to be unique, it must be attributed to the unsettled orthography if the sixMany abbreviations occur, marked by the teenth century. ^'tildd'^ in the old English, but which are not used in modIn the deciphered works the same diversity ern type.
of
exists as in the originals, the exact text
being followed letter
by
letter.
Proper names, even, are not always spelled
There was marked progress, howêver, in the period between the production of Bacon's first works and the last. To Bacon, in greater degree than to any other, has been
alike.
accredited the enriching of the English language with
new
words, but the spelling and expression of them have been

three centuries in crystalizing into the simplicity and uni-
formity of the present schools.
The
lâtural History, and
New
Atlantis,
was published
some years
after Bacon's death,
secretary of
whom Bacon
speaks.
by Dr. Rawley, the private In the Introduction and

(in
table of contents,
Rawley
worked
tells
Cipher) the circum-
stances of
its
preparation.
first
In the decyphering, the body

out.
of the book was there
In the Eighth Century

it
came confusion
of letters and
required considerable
study to find that the fonts of type had been changed in
some of the letters, i. e., what had been used as the "a" font was changed to the '^" font, either by mistake, or for After the main part of the book purposes of confusion. had been finished, the Introduction by Rawley and table of
contents were deciphered, and this brought out that from
the Eighth Century
Rawley had completed the work,
INTRODUCTION.
*'yet
13
I have stumblingly proceeded with

letters
used some
wrongly, as
LMi^
it
and unwittingly S ^P
and
Z.''
He
also refers to his finishing Burton's
Anatomy,
(1628) the edition used in this volume.
The reference to the signing of the death, warrant of Mary Queen of Scots, by the Secretary, Davison, instead of by Elizabeth, and unknown to her, confirms what tke
most recent historians have noted, and explains some
in-
consistencies in the earlier accounts of Elizabeth's action.
Perhaps the most remarkable results, and certainly the most unexpected, and greatest surprise, came from deciphering De Augmentis, and Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy.
The
history
of
the
Anatomy
is
peculiar.
It
Museum under the assumed name of T. Bright, in the year 1586, or when Burton was only about ten years old. Greatly enlarged,
appears in the Catalogue of the British
it
appears in 1621, and again in 1624, and again in 1628,

at
and
two
later dates,
under the name of Robert Burton, a

is
person of
whom
author of this
known, except as the supposed work alone, and as a living example of the
little
it
melancholy which
so felicitously describes.
The Cipher
mentions both Bright and Burton as names under which
Bacon wrote the book, and
also that the different editions
contain a difl:erent Cipher story.
The extraordinary
ment. Bacon
calls it
part
is
that this edition conceals, in
Cipher, a very full and extended prose
summary
argu-
of a translation of Homer's Iliad.

as to its being
In order that there may be no mistake
Bacon's work, he precedes the translation with a brief reference to his royal birth and the wrongs he has suffered from being excluded from the throne. The Cipher also tells that in the marginal notes, which are used in large numbers in the book, may be found the argument to a translation of the ^neid, but this has not been deciphered.
14
INTRODUCTION.
In
De Augmentis
is
found a similar extended
synopsis,
or argument, of a translation of the Odyssey.

is
This, too,
introduced with a reference to Bacon's personal history,

is
and although the text of the book

in English.
in Latin the Cipher
is
The
decipherer
is
not a Greek scholar and would be in-
capable of creating these extended arguments, which differ
widely in phrasing from any translation extant, and are

written in a free and flowing style which will be recog-
nized as Baconian.
Homer was
Iambic
evidently a favorite author, and in

it
is
all
the
books deciphered
verse, will
repeated that the translations, in
be found in the Word-Cipher, and these

them.
Close
summaries are
plays and poems
to aid in the production of
students of Shakespeare and Spenser have noted in the
many fragments
of the Iliad, and a portion
of that epic has already been deciphered.
The books deciphered cover

years, in
a period of about twenty

secrets
which Bacon was writing into them the
of his
life.
the different
The repetitions of the sorrowful story take on moods in which he wrote and the variations
of mental activity during that long period.
Grieving over the tragic death of his brother, and his

part in bringing
it
about,
which was an ever present cause

his
of remorse, and brooding over the wrongs and sorrows that
had been forced upon himself,
mind
passes through
many
changeful emotions as the years progress, and the
Bi-literal
Cipher becomes the receptacle of his plaints
escape valve of his

lost hopes,
momentary
and the expression of
ished for the future in
the record those which he "I look out the prophecy,

passions
the
of his
cher-
still
to the
future, not of years, but of ages, are for the benefit
knowing that my labours of a land very farr off, and after great
ED.
length of time
is
past."
Detroit, March, 1899.
PKEFACE.
SECOND EDITION.
Since the issue of the
first
small edition of
"The
Bi-literal
private circulation) the

story
Cipher of Sir Francis Bacon" in April, 1899, (limited to work of deciphering the hidden
found in the old original books has gone
steadily for-
ward, and the results are

filled,
now
presented with some gaps
and chronological order of writing much more closely
followed through the increased

access has
number
of volumes to
which
been made
possible.
The securing
no
slight task.
of the old original books necessary has been
The
sources
from which they have been
obtained have been numerous.
The first to be deciphered was
our own photographic Fac-simile of the 1623 Folio-secured

in London,
book ha^dng
from the scattered library of Lord Coleridge, the his signature upon the title page. The disclosures found in this were the inspiration, and held the directions which have led to the prosecution of the work
thus far so successfully accomplished.
of old editions belonging to Mrs. C. Baconian savante, of London, was placed
The private library M. Pott, the eminent

at
our disposal,
The old book stores of London furnished some volumes. The collection of rare old books of Dodd, Mead, & Co. was drawn upon. An old original Henry Seventh was found and purchased from a "New York
yielding valuable material.
collection.
In the invaluable collection of rare old books
in the private library of Marshall C. Lefferts, of
'New York, were foun^ some volumes not elsewhere procurable, and these were kindly loaned to us. To Dr. John Dane, of
16
PREFACE.
Boston,
we
are also indebted for the loan of rare volumes
not in the libraries.
held a considerable
facilities for their
The Boston and Harvard Libraries number of old editions and afforded
use during several months of research.

of 'New
The Lenox Library
York
also
opened
its
choice col-
lection of original editions of Shakespeare,
from some of
dedica-
which photographic reproductions of

tions, etc.,
title pages,
were taken.
Upon
another page will be found
list
of the editions used and where they were obtained.
In all, about 6,000 pages of these original editions have been gone over, the Italic letters transcribed "in groups of
five,''
and each
letter
examined for the
peculiarities
which
it
should determine the particular font of type from which
was printed, and

plan.
its
resulting significance in the Cipher
We
date,
have so far been unable to gain access to the necesdangerous experihowever,
sary editions between 1579 and 1590 to determine the exact
and the book which holds the

of this Cipher.
first
ment of the inventor
Sufficient,
has been translated to outline the object, scope and main

features of the Bi-literal, as well as the plan of the
Word
and
Cipher, confirming both, as has been

establishing
elsewhere stated
beyond question the authorship in Bacon of
the works in which they are found.
The Cipher Story is unique in literature, first from the It peculiar method of hiding, and next, in what it tells. is not ours to reason why Francis Bacon should have taken this method to communicate with the "far off ages.'V That
the reasons were sufficient to him, to induce great pains in
their transmission,
is
evident.
It
is
sufficient for us to
find, as
have found
find
it.
the secret story,
and record what we
we
The mystery surrounding much
of the Elizabethan
PREFACE.
period,
17
and
shall
its
conflicting records, suggest
many
things yet
to be discovered.
which
The prosecution of the investigations unearth these must be left to those nearer the
scenes of action, having facilities beyond our present opportunities.
The discovery
of the Cipher will doubtless put
many on
the search, and finding so
throwing side lights upon
much will aid in delving deeper, many things that have been inIt is to be hoped
comprehensible, leading to further disclosures of value to

the historian and lovers of truth.
that further search
may be made 'for original papers, clues followed that may lead to their location, that no stone be left unturned which may seem to cover the hiding place
of manuscript or written line that will clear
of that which remains undiscovered.
up any portion
HOWARD PUBLISHING COMPANY.

Detroit, June, 1900.
AKGUMENT.
All agree that two names stand at the head of the literary
achievements of the Elizabethan era

speare, as a dramatic writer,
William
Shakeas the
and Francis Bacon,
greatest of writers in all branches, scientific, philosophic,

legal
and
literary,
taking
all
knowledge for
his province
the most learned
man
of his day.
all
Concerning the
kno^^Ti of
first,
writers agree that nothing
is
him
personally which points to eminence.
Quot-
ing from George Branjies, the Danish writer, whose book

is
among the
strongest of the late writings

is
upon the Plays,

notabilities of
and whose keen analysis of them

light,
an education and a de-
we
read:
^'When we pass from the

all
the nineteenth century to Shakespeare,

critical
our ordinary
as a rule,
methods leave us in the lurch.
We have,
no lack of trustworthy information

spirits of
as to the productive
our owti day and of the past two centuries.

lives of authors
We
many
know the
cases
and poets from their own accounts
of themselves or those of their contemporaries; in
we have
their letters;
and we not only possess works
attributed to
to the press.
^'Tt is
them but works which they themselves gave
otherwise with Shakespeare and his fellow drama-
tists
of Elizabethan England.
He
died in 1616, and the
first
biography of him, a few pages in length, dates 1Y09.

letters of
We possess no
Shakespeare and only one (a busi-
ness letter) addressed to him.

IS
Of the manuscript
of his
ARGUMENT.
works, not a single line
his
is
19
extant.
Our
sole
specimens of
hand writing
two to
consist of five signatures, three
appended
to his will,
contracts,
and one other of very doubtful
authenticity.
"We do not know how far several of the works attributed

to Shakespeare are really his.
In the case of some of the
Plays, the question of authorship presents great and mani-
fold difficulties.
In
his
youth Shakespeare had to adapt

* * *
or retouch the plays of others; in later life he sometimes
collaborated
with
younger men.
He
seems
never to have sanctioned any publication, or to have read

a single proof sheet.
"It has
become the fashion
to say, not without
some
show of
he
justice, that
we know next
to nothing of Shakeeither,
speare's life.
We
do not know for certain,
when
from
left Stratford or
when he returned
to Stratford
London.
abroad,
We
do not know for certain that he ever went
ever visited Italy.
We
can form -but tentative
conjectures as to the order in which his works were pro-
duced, and can only with the greatest difficulty determine

their approximate dates.
so careless of his
We
do not know what made him
fame
as
he seems to have been.
We
only
know
that he himself did not publish his dramatic works,

his will."
and that he does not even mention them in

There follow nearly 800 pages of
critical analysis of
the plays, but so far as connecting Shakespeare's personality in

is
any way with the authorship of them
is
concerned,
it
admittedly pure romance and every statement a con-
jecture.
Concerning Francis Bacon, his

twelve years,
life,
from the age of

an open
when
in the halls of learning, he took issue

is
with his preceptors upon the gravest questions,
20
ARGUMENT.
is
book, in which
recorded the formative progress of a
great mind, advancing in knowledge and in honors to the

position of
Lord High Chancellor of England, and in the

world-wide fame as the greatest genius
world of
letters to a
of that age.
For nearly
fifty years
now
there has been growing doubt
as to the authorship of the plays
appearing under the
of William Shakespeare, and a growing belief that the
name name
was the nom-de-plume of another person or persons, and

only by
its similarity,
coupled with the fact of his being an
actor, did it attach to the
man
Shaks-perfrom
Stratford.
first
That Bacon was the

gested
real author
was apparently
sug-
by the
similarity of philosophy
and sentiment
of
parallelisms in thought
and expression, and with the deeper

us.
study of these, the Bacon-Shakespeare question was upon
Mr. Fiske
Folly,''
tells
of 'Torty Years of the Bacon-Shakespeare
and although the books that have been written upon

he "forgot
but as an afterthought
the subject would form a considerable library of themselves,
to classify them,''
considered they should have been placed with those of
"Cranks and their Crochets," which he consigned to the

department
of
"Insane
or
Eccentric"
literature.
He
brushes aside, in that delightfully sarcastic
unimportant, the deep researches

of data and facts that throw
way
of his, as
^the
gathering together
new
light
upon the Elizabethan

in
period
the evolution
of
which has resulted in placing
our hands the positive proofs that not only the plays, but
some other
literature attributed to other authors,
came from
the hand and brain of Francis Bacon.
Bacon
says that
'tis
the mysterious that attracts.
The
discussion of authorship has given impulse to the

It
is
study of that period.
found
to be full of mystery.

ARGUMENT.
The
records of
its
21
literature
and history lack conciseness and
certainty,
are in
many
things irreconcilable, leading to
much
speculation and conjecture, stimulating the search for
documents, manuscripts, data, anything authentic to correct

manifest inconsistencies and furnish missing links in the
narrative.
The
question of Ciphers in the Plays dates back to the
early discussion of authorship.
Much
time and
effort in
searching for
them have been expended without
avail.
Two
principal Ciphers have now, however, been found and devel-
oped, not only in the Plays, but in some other of the old
books of that day which throw a flood of light upon the

mysteries that have been so puzzling.
The first to be discovered was the Word Cipher, by Dr. Owen; the second was Bacon's Bi-literal Cipher, by Mrs.
E.
W.
Gallup,
who had been
associated with Dr.
Owen
in
the preparation of the later books published under his name.
Both Ciphers have been worked out

nearly 2,000 pages
to sufficient length
to disclose their great historical
and
literary value, to confirm

ally
them
both, and to solve effectu-
and
satisfactorily
many
of the questions that have been
in doubt.
They furnish
tell
positive proofs of their
own
exist-
ence,
tic, as
and
a narrative as varied, as interesting, as roman-
any on the printed page, holding much of truth that
has never been told.
The
Bi-literal
Cipher
is
not new.
is
It is the invention of
Bacon while
in France,
and
more
or less familiar to every

is
student of his works, for no
"De Augmentis"
without
its
chapter on ciphers^ and the illustration of
this, as
Bacon
it
terms
it,
the highest type of cipher writing.
And
is
familiar to
many
is
in a practical way,
who may never have
known that it
the basis of the most important cipher codes
22
ARGUMENT.
in use at the present day.
What
is
new, and
startling,
and
what renders the work of Mrs. Gallup of inestimable value,

is
her discovery that this Cipher exists in the original writits
ings of
inventor,
and records the
secrets of his
own
life,
with the reasons for their hiding, a

for its use.
fitting object
and motive and yet
The
revelations of the Ciphers are startling,
they are repeated in the different books with such circumstantiality of detail
far as the records

wills to
such accord with recorded show we forced

that
history, so
are
against our
acknowledge their truth.

:
First
Bacon
tells
us
how and why he wrote

The
these im-
portant Ciphers into his works.
Bi-literal describes
the other and contains full instructions for writing both,

the topics and an epitome of what was to be written out, the
keys and where the material was to be found from which

to build the
more important
a
structure of the
Word
Cipher
which would comprise History, Tragedy, Comedy and Romance, in

fact,
new
literature as fascinating as strange,
concerning the
life
and times of Bacon
as they were,
and
to
differing materially
from what they had been made
appear.
Secondly:
as such,
That he was the author, though unknown
of works
masqued under the name of Spenser,
Shakespeare, Marlowe, Greene, Peele and Eobert Burton;

that
^ve short plays written by Bacon were printed
as
Ben
to
Jonson's; that Jonson's

in the Italic letters,
own works
contained the Cipher,

fact
is certified
by permission, which
in a Cipher letter over Jonson's in the Cipher narrative,
own name, and

and
repeated
found in the other books.

secret per-
Thirdly:
sonal history.
The
details of his parentage
As
these were being vigorously denied and
ARGUMENT,
28
suppressed by the Queen, the hidden story was a dangerous
one for Bacon to record, and the fear of

earlier years of its infolding
its
discovery in
th>e
its
was ever present with

it
author; but as time passed, and with
the personal peril,
came the fear that

would be
work,
lost.
these most important matters

life
would not
be brought to light and his
work
in recording
them
After at
least thirty-five years of ciphelr
writing, as so far traced, he published in the Latin his great
De Augmentis, and
in the chapter
on Ciphers gave a
and yet
it
full explanation
and the key
to the system,
has
waited for three hundred years for an eye sufficiently acute

to note
its
existence in the
numerous books, and the indomitit,
able patience and perserverance to follow
letter
by
letter,
through nearly
six
thousand pages of original editions, as
the long story has been unfolded.
In almost every work are found repetitions of some of

the chief statements, though in different form.
The
rea-
son given for this was that the writer could not expect the
decipherer would begin where the Cipher
also that, should
itself
began, and
still
any book be
lost,
the plan could
be
followed from what the others should reveal.
A marked feature of the deciphered work is his agony of

spirit
and remorse over the action he was compelled to

Queen's commands, in the
trial
take,
at the
of Essex, his younger

Leicester.
brother
eiforts to
later
His the second son of the Queen and a excuse and himself before the world appear age the extreme made
justify
in
^pathetic in
is
to
as
one of the strong motives for the use of the Cipher.
The
earliest edition of
books so far accessible to us in

is
which the
Bi-literal
Cipher has been found,

It
Spenser's
this that
Muiopotmos, 1590.
was
at
an
earlier date
than
it is
the dangerous experiment was launched, and
a matter

ARGUMENT.
we have been unable
some of
these,
24
of regret that so far
to gain access to
earlier editions, for in
between 1579 and
1590, the
initial or starting
point will be discovered.
Eor a period of about

said
thirty-five years, then, as
we have
all
between 1590 and the death
of
Bacon
this progres-
sive narrative has

list
been traced, and while
it is
not
the
of works to be deciphered, the repetitions establish the
scope and time and plan of the work.
Two
The
distinct purposes are served
by the two Ciphers.

to
Bi-literal
was the foundation which was intended

is
lead to the discovery of the other, and
of prime import-
ance in
its
directions concerning the construction of the
Word
were
Cipher, the keys, and the epitome of the topics which

to be written out
by
its aid.
It seems, also, to
have
been the expression of the writer's thoughts of the moment,

a sort of diary
tions,
which caught and recorded the passing emoto
day by day, without regard

follow,
what had gone before
or
would
and
as in
many
another diary,
we
find ex-
pressed in different words the trend of the
mind
as affected
by the varying moods

in despair, that his
again defiant and rebellious
sometimes sad and mournful and again despondent, almost

fail of discovery,
wrongs might
even in
the times and land afar off to which he looked for greater
honor and fame, as well as vindication.

Chafing under the cloud upon his birth, the victim of a
destiny beyond his control which ever placed
position,
him
in a false
defrauded of his birthright, which was of the
highest,
he committed to
this
Cipher the plaints of an out-
raged
soul.
of his inmost heart.
The decipherer alone shares the confidences To the decipherer he unbends to
the rest of the world maintains the dignity which marked

his
outward
life.
To
the decipherer, and behind the

ARGUMENT.
scenes, throws off restraint
25
and records the bitterness of the
thought which the moment brings
to the
world exhibits
the stately movement, the careful thought, the studied

expression.
It is a
wonderful revelation of the undercur-
rents of a hidden
life.
But
it is less
smooth
much
of
it
as a literary production
than the other, except in those
parts given to the historical portions

as the
which he sketched out
frame work for amplification in the

of the
to
Word
Cipher.
The method
Word
Cipher, discovered by Dr.
Owen now found

closes
be so fully explained by the great auis
thor in the Bi-literal Cypher,
quite different, and dis-
matter of rare value as literary productions and of
the most intense interest,
embodying that which was the
hope of Bacon, would not only establish his true character
and birthright, but would bring added fame

that
to the writings
had been published, through those of nearly equal

lines, as first writ-
volume which were concealed within the

ten, for the
pages with which
we
are familiar are a recon-
struction to hide the secret story.
The
Bi-literal
is
exact
scientific
inflexible.
The
translation of the
from the Greek
Word
^the
Cipher, however, like translations
Iliad or the Odysses, for

elastic.
example
is,
within certain limitations, more

variation in the phrasing of
There might be
two people, but the substance
would be in accord from the hands of experienced cryptographers.

literal
letters.
In the modern editions of the works the Bi-
has been obliterated by the elimination of the Italic
The Word
Cipher, however, can be followed in
modern
nals,
editions, not wîth quite the exactness of the origi-
but in substance, and with the smoothness gained by
editing and eliminating
some seeming
incongruities.
But

26
ARGUMENT.
says,
Bacon himself
'^Commonly, the most corrected copies
are the least correct."
To many
it
will
seem strange,
if
not well nigh incredible,

to us in this way,
that a Cipher message could
come down
uncovering matters that had slept through three centuries,
hidden within the splendid literature so carefully studied,

dissected
and analyzed for hidden meanings
as
it
have been
the Plays and the works of Bacon.

a blow;
traditions
To some
comes
like
^yet
shattered
:
history turned
awry
there
is
no destruction
It
all is
there that was there before
and much more.

man!
is
the matter
we have
loved, not the
The mind's the man!
'tis
simply change
and
We are asked Vhat matters it" ^whether this be so or not? Why delve into the mysteries of the past, and un'
"what's in a name?"
settle things'^
It
is
true, effort in this direction does not

it
build magnificent bridges, nor does
plan or dig tunnels

It does
of gigantic proportions and tremendous utility.
not develop a
Liquid Air!
new use for Electricity, or the possibilities But when we contemplate the building
of
of
great temples of knowledge, where shall be gathered and
exposed for study the best that past and present has to
offer, is it
not worth the cost to study truth for truth's sake?

to decorate the
And when we come

past
memorial arch with the
figures that best typify the greatest
and best in the world's
of Arts, Sciences, Sculpture, Painting, representing
the acme of
shall seek to
human
achievements in each of these,

face, a figure or a
and
it
surmount by a
name which
shall typify Literature as
embracing
all
Arts,
is
not
worth our while to be very sure we name the

It
is
man
aright?
laudable as well as duty to pursue
all
threads of light
which, may illumine what has been admittedly a
âve
ques-
ARGUMENT.
tion,
27
and be very sure the monumeiit
.shall
be truthful.
Music, Sculpture, Art,
may
be inspiration, with a modicum
of preliminary instruction, and
we have the
careers of those
who
justly typify these in records of
acknowledged authen-
ticity
but can we
believe that a finished Literature, with
a vocabulary thrice that in previous use, can come from

inspiration alone?
Granting that the Shakespeare Plays stand at the head

of
all
English literature,
we can now
speak with the boldauthor, and
ness of certainty that Francis
Bacon was the
hence Truth and Justice demand that no other face or
form
theon
shall
occupy the highest place in the
modem
Pan-
^that
no other should stand
first
in the galaxy of
all.
great names, as the greatest genius of
them
M.
]SrOTES
ON THE SHAKESPEAKE PLAYS.
Justin Winsor, in his BibliogTaphy of Shakespeare, says
regarding the
'Ît is
first
Folio edition of 1623
not likely that, even at this late day,
all
the copies
existing in
England are known
to such as
may
be cognizant
of their value.
ter's shop,
One was discovered in 1857, in a carpenamong a lot of old books that had been bought
shillings;
for a
few
and similar surprises
will doubtless
again happen.
Copies are
known
to exist in
Germany, in
Spain, and probably elsewhere on the Continent.
"Steevens says that he discovered in a manuscript note

in a copy belonging to White, a bookseller in Fleet Street,
London, that the book was published
at 1, a
sum
repre-
senting, of course, several times the value at the present
day; Grant White giving
it at
$26.00.
"It was in 1864 that the bibliomaniac fervor over the

first folio
of Shakespeare
made
its
most pronounced display
at the Daniel's sale.
bidder representing
Almon W.
all
Griswold, of
New
York, carried the figures high above
previous reckonings; but the agent of Miss Burdett-Coutts
secured
it
for that lady's collection at 716, the highest
mark then
since
reached, and
it
has not since been surpassed."

first
Prices at which original copies of the
Folio,
have
been sold have largely exceeded the above amount.

to the late
The copy belonging

$5,400
Augustin Daly brought
at the great sale in
March, 1900.
NOTES ON THE SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.

At the time
biat
29
of the publication of Winsor's Bibliography,
nineteen copies of the Folio were

States,
United
but the
of
'
number
is
known to be in the now greatly increased.
Under the head
'Copies in the United States, as far as
Known," commenting upon
the copy in possession of the

it
Boston Public Library, Mr. Winsor writes that
''was
bought by Mr. Barton of Thos. Eodd, the London bookseller, in
1845, standing 'No. 8127 in his catalogue for that
year; and
110 was paid for
it."
" ']ô such copy, in point of completeness
and
size,'
wrote Mr. Rodd,

first,
who
reserved
it
for Mr. Barton
from the
'had been sold by public auction for
many
years; and
for a fine one, Mr. Pickering, the bookseller, gave four
years since 150, and sold

advance.'
it
immediately for a considerable

in an old, but not original,
it
Eodd
received
it
binding, and was careful that, while

it
was
in Lewis's hands,
should neither be cut, nor the ink-marks or other stains

''
removed.'
Mr. Winsor further
states
"A
copy belonging to Mr.

.Joseph Lilly, the
Lenox has seemingly the date 1622; but

1862, gives his view, that 'there
bookseller, in a note to 'The Literary Gazette,'

is
March
8,
no copy with the date
1622, the figure "3" being imperfectly worked (or battered) " in that particular copy in which
it
appears.' It
is
This copy cost in 1855, 163 16s.

copy.
called the
Baker
One
of the assistant librarians at the
Lenox Library
dis-
covered the secret of the apparent date, 1622, which has
been verified by a representative of the Howard Publishing

Co.
The
title
page was "inlaid" in such a manner that an
edge of the margin covered the lower part of the long "3,"
and a
slight
pen stroke made the upper part appear
as a
30

Examining the
leaf with a lens, the entire figure
"2."
'^S" is plainly seen, the
lower part showing through the
paper when held to the
light.
In
first
fact, it is well
known
that the Folio appeared for the

it is
time in 1623, and in the Cipher
seen that
it
follows
VitsB
& Mortis, published in the same year.

old vexed questions regarding pirated editions of
first
The
the quartos, or attempts to determine which was
of
those put out in the same year, find answer in the Bi-literal,
directly or
by plain
inference.
If connected in such a
way
that the Cipher Story
would otherwise be incomplete,
prior-
ity is thus determined.

editions.
Often one work mentions other

Folio, it
In deciphering Ben. Jonson's
was found
that sixty plays were written as early as 1616.

fifty-six
Of
these,
had been
traced.
Search for the missing four led

critics
it
to
an examination of those which some

under suspicion.
Old-castle,
have rejected
as spurious or
Of
these
was found that
Pericles, Sir
John
London Prodigal, and York-
shire
list
Tragedy contained the Cipher, thus completing the
of sixty referred to, and establishing the genuineness of
these four.
The Yorkshire Tragedy has the
peculiar title
ALL'S
or
o:nte
ONE OF THE FOUR PLAIES IN ONE, CALLED
A YORKSIHEE TRAGEDIE,
as it
was plaid by
THE KING'S MAIESTIES PLAYERS.
31
These are by no means the only plays weighed in the

balance.
In Justin "Winsor's
Three Parts of Henry
^'JSTote
on the Authorship of the
Sixth''
we
read
"Hudson
6,043
lines,
says that ^Malone figured out that the
two plays
contain
[second and third parts], in their present
state,
and that of these 1,899, or nearly one-third
were original in the Folio; 2,373, something more than a

third,
were altered from the quarto; and 1,771, which

less
is
something
all
than a third, were the same in both.

is
ISTearly
the matter of the quartos
retained in the Folio; the
rejections being
few and
small.'
"That one or both were written in part by Shakespeare

is
the opinion of Drake,
who
holds that Shakespeare im-
proved the works of others; of Hartley Coleridge,
who
says, cer-
^The True Tragedie of Richard

tainly the original
Duke
of
Yorke was
which Shakespeare
partially retouched
much improving the rudeness of the outline'; of Hunter, who says, ^They have evidently much of Shakewithout
speare's hand, but there are in
them
portions of an inferior
says, 'Shakespeare
hand'; and of Part
II.,
Hunter again
was employed in altering and amending the work of a

ceding and inferior dramatist, but there
hand, and some parts in this and
in his best manner'
;
prehis
is
much from
in the third play are even
of Halliwell,
who
thinks 'Part III.
is
an older drama, with such interpolations from Shakespeare

as could
be collected from notes

editors,
at the theatre';
of the
Cambridge
who
think 'Shakespeare had a consider-
able share in them'; of Grant White,
who
holds that* 'they
contain the
work
of Greene,
Marlowe and Shakespeare, and

as
of such material parts of
them
were transferred to the
32
Second and Third Parts of Henry Sixth were Shakespeare's

own.'
"Staunton
agrees
with
Halliwell that the old plays

to
showed Shakespeare's additions
an undiscovered
original.
Kives, in his Essay, agrees with Grant White, that Shake-
speare wrote the parts of Clifford and Warwick, and Greene

those of Eichard and Edward.
"They
speare's
ness, etc.
are held to be of other authorship than ShakeAAârburton, Drake, Hallam, Har-
by Theobald,
"That they are attributable to Kobert Greene

Gervinus to be a plausible conjecture.
is
held by
"They are given to Marlowe in the Chalmer's Catalogue. Malone ascribes Part III. to Marlowe; and Hartley Coleridge says of the same part, that
ît is
ascribed to
Marlowe
with
to
much
probability.'
Dyce
strongly suspects both parts
have been wholly from the pen of Marlowe.
"They
read
are ascribed to
Greene and Marlowe by many."
In George Brandos scholarly work of recent date we

:
"Though there
\/
are doubtless in the older plays portions

like the
unworthy of Shakespeare, and more
handiwork of
Greene, while others strongly suggest Marlowe, both in

matter, style and versification, there are also passages in
them which cannot be by anyone
else
than Shakespeare.
And
mark
while most of the alterations and additions which are
found in the second and third parts of Henry VI. bear the
of unmistakable superiority, and are Shakespearian
in spirit
no
less
than in style and
versification, there are at
the same time others which are decidedly un-Shakespearian
and can almost certainly be attributed
to
Marlowe.
He
must, then, have collaborated with Shakespeare in the

adaptation, unless
33
we suppose that
his original text
was
care-
lessly printed in the earlier quartos,
and that
it
here reap-
pears, in the Shakespearian
Henry
VI., corrected and com-
pleted in accordance with his manuscript.
"Other additions
older
also
seem only
to have restored the
form of the plays
those, to wit,
which really add
nothing new, but only elaborate, sometimes more copiously

than
is
necessary or tasteful, a thought already clearly indi-
cated.
tions
But there
is
another class of additions and altera-
which surprises us by being unmistakably in MarIf these additions are really
lowe's style.
by Shakespeare,
''
he must have been under the influence of Marlowe to a

quite extraordinary degree.
Swinburne has pointed out ^

act of the
how
entirely the verses
which open the fourth
Second Part are Marlowesque in rhythm, imagination and

choice of words; but characteristic as are these lines
are
to
^they
by no means the only
additions which
seem
to point
Marlowe."
Regarding the variations
"additions and alterations"

says
in
)C
and oftentimes omissions

Cipher:
adde, and I
Bacon
the Bi-literal
"I alwaies alter even when there bee more to
may
take
many
of the parts put out in Quarto
form
one,
to reset th' same,
having made a planne to increase

in
th'
by making a likeness
theame
easily suit th' It
thoughts and ene sundry verses of others.
may
be a
long time ere I can put into use most choice lines so cuFd * from early plays"
Concerning the diversity of

Cipher
:
style,
he
also says in the
"I varied
th'
my
stile to suit different
men, since no
two shew
*Page
156.
same
taste
and
like imagination."**
200.
And
*Page
34
again: ^'When I have assumed men's names, th' next step

is
to create for each a stile naturall to the

let
man
that yet
should
my
owne bee
seene, as a thrid of
warpe in
find,
my
entire f abricke/'*** while in his

is
open work we
"Style
as the subject-matter."
The
Bi-literal
Cipher has been extracted from more
than one edition of some of the plays.
On
comparison,
it
appears that while some of the different editions vary but

slightly in the text, yet in the
words that are
Italicised the
is
changes are very great, and in that manner each

tell a different
,
made
to
hidden
story.
Two
quarto
editions
of
Pericles (1609 and 1619),
Merchant of Venice (both dated

and
1615), and
1600), Richard
I
II.
(1598
Midsummer
!N"ight's
three
Dream (1600), have been deciphered, besides the last named plays as they are printed in the Folio,
Italicised
where the
words are
still
different
from those in
in the
either of the quartos.
I'he Italics used in Richard II
Q615),
quarto, are nearly double the
number used
edition of 1598, and in the Folio are
still
greater variations
in the particular words Italicised and in the
number
of
them, as well
^
as in the fonts of
type from which the letters

variations, as well as
were chosen.
Thus
is
shown that the
other seeming inconsistencies in typography, style, and

matter, are for the purposes of the Cipher, and,
we
repeat,
they prove conclusively that Bacon was the author.
KATE
***Page
54.
E.
WELLS.
ste:n'ogeaphy,
m
it
ok ^^SHOET-HAINTD" weitin^g THE TIME OF QUEE:Nr ELIZABETH.

expression that
The opinion has not infrequently found

was beyond the
ability of Francis
all
Bacon, great writer
as
he was, to have written

is
the matter that, through the
Cipher,
sion
now
is
attributed to him, and to correct the impres-
which
prevalent that "Short-hand" methods were not
in use at that time,
we
give place to the following article

Pott, in Baconiana, London,
from the pen of Mrs. C. M.

January, 1900.
"
an argument against the possibility Alban being the author of all that has been claimed for him, is based upon at least one great fallacy, namely, that Francis St. Alban could not have transmitted his thoughts and conceptions (as some of
It appears that
of Francis St.
us maintain that he did) verbally, so that his utterances
could be taken
secretaries.
down
in "short-hand"
by some of
his
"It is,"
says one correspondent, "the gen-
eral belief that there
were no 'short-hand' methods in

process,
those days, and that transcribing as well as printing
was a slow and laborious
and
we cannot
the intention
make people believe to the contrary." The present lines are written not with
and for
our
belief
all to
of giving a history of stenography, but in order once
own
circle of readers,
may
do away with this mistaken idea amongst however much the erroneous remain with "the general."
35
36
STENOGRAPHY, OR SHORT-HAND WRITING.

The first English book on Stenography seems to have been that published by T. Bright, in 1588. Here we may pause to note three particulars 1. T. Bright was Dr. Timothy Bright, under whose name the "Anatomy of Melancholy" was first published in 1587. This edition is entered in the British Museum Catalogue as the work of T. Bright. The subsequent editions take no notice of Bright, but are published in the name of Burton. "What's in a namef In the introduction to the "Biliteral Cipher
'
"
of Francis Bacon'' the Editor, calling attention to

these facts,
adds that "The Cipher mentions both Bright and Burton as names under which ^Bacon' wrote the book, and also that the different editions contain each a different cipher story." 2. "T. Bright" dedicated his book on short-hand writing to Queen Elizabeth, with the title "Characterie, or the Art of Short, Swift and Secret Writing." 3. At the time of the publication of this book, Francis was 27 yeai*s of age, and passing through a
to 1590 there is hardly a trace of his dobut the press was teeming with and issuing works of all kinds the English Renaissance had begun. To the Treatise on Short Writing of 1588, there followed "The Writing School-master," by "Peter Bale." Here we are told that "Brachygraphy, or the art of writing as fast as a man speaketh treatably, may in appearance seem difficult, but it is in effect very easy, containing a many commodities under a few principles, the shortness whereof is obtained by mem-
period of the greatest leisure which he ever enjoyed.

1
From 1586
ings,
j
ory, the swiftness
by
practice, the sweetness
by indus-
try."
most Baconian utterance suggestive of its The date of this book is 1590. true source. The next attempt towards improvement in the art seems to have been printed in 1602 by "John Willis." It was entitled "The Art of Stenographie or Short Writing by Spelling Characterie," and after this had
IN
THE TIME OP QUEEN ELIZABETH
37
passed through numerous editions, a fresh treatise was
published by
in 16f30,
Edmund
Willis, in 1618,
by Witt and Dix.
and two more These few facts must
surely be sufficient to prove that short-Tiand writing
began and flourished in the reign of Elizabeth, and was vigorously used and improved upon during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. That Francis not only first introduced the art, but that he made good use of it the present writer does not The scanty records publicihed for an instant doubt. of his mysterious private life seem in many pldces to hint, although they do not plainly affirm that this was
the case.
Hear the saying

of his conversation.
of Dr. Rawley,
when
descyibing his
master's habits of perpetual industry and the delight
"His meals were refections of the ear as well as of stomach, like the Koctes Atticse, or Conviviae Deipno-sophistarum, wherein a man might be refreshed in his mind and understanding no less than in his body. And I have known some, of no mean parts, that have professed to make use of their notebooks when they have risen from his table" (so they went prepared with note-books). Peter Boehner, private secretary and medical attendant to Irancis "Bacon," describes how in the morning he would call him or some other of his secretaries to his bedside, and how they wrote down from his lips the thoughts and ideas which he had conceived in the night. Had this process been so "slow and
the
laborious" as the general belief
is supposed to warrant, our indefatigable and nimble-minded author would have had to pass most of his days in bed. On the contrary, we think it far more probable that the amanuensis could write as fast as a man could speak "treatably," or in other words slowly and with deliberation, as (in the Short jSTotes for Civil Conversation) he en-
'^'
STENOGRAPHY, OR SHORT-HAND WRITING.

joins
upon others who would speak pleasantly and to be understood: "In all kinds of speech it is convenient to speak leisurely, and rather drawingly than hastily' ^^ giving as one reason for this, that "a slow speech confirmeth the memory." Doubtless it
is
a great help to the writer from dictation.
'Now
if
Francis did from the age
of,
say 25, dictate
to his short-hand writers the thoughts
which followed
each other through his wonderful brain, his reflections on the philosophies which he was studying, his comments upon books, which he read, notes and sketches of proposed works, or revised matter ready for the if he seldom put pen to paper, but in elbow press
chair,
wrth head resting on his hand (and "thus he

to his expert short-hand writers,
and due course transcribing and writing fair the sheets which he had but to read, and if needful to correct and polish what a mass of matter could he thus have produced and given to the world under any name but his own Would that our own thoughts and utterances were worthy of a like method of preservation. We could then exclaim with Armado in Love Labour's Lost: "Devise wit; write pen; for I am for whole volumes
sat") dictated in the abundance of his full heart
mind
they in
in folio."
fka:^cis
bacok
The
trasts.
life of
Trancis Bacon presents

his earliest childhood,
many and
sharp confull of the

life,
From
which was
promise of a bright intelligence, until the end of his
he was in touch with
all
that
was deemed great and most
to
he desired.
It
was
full of
high hopes deferred, with great

disapfruit,
and well-warranted expectations alternating with

pointments.
The apparent
lips.
fulfillments, like
dead sea
turned to ashes on his
After a
life of
weary but im-
successful place seeking, success
and splendor were speedily
followed by deepest humiliation.

cies in his
Seeming
inconsisten-
conduct and his character have been the fruitful
theme of the highest eulogy and of strongest condemnation;

those
who knew him
best, loved,
admired and revered him,
and
his biographers
have been able to give, or suggest, rea-
sons, if not excuse for certain episodes in his life, for
which
others have had but unsparing censure.

his literature to-day does not
As
his
the value of
depend upon
conduct three
hundred years ago, we can leave
this question
where
it
stands, rather than dull with censure our appreciation of his
genius.
This
man who,
in 1561.
as
many
authorities assert,
was endowed
with the greatest intellect of the
human
race,
was born in
London
89
40
FRANCIS BACON.
The
recent Cipher discoveries go to show that he was the
son of Elizabeth, afterward Queen of England, who, while
imprisoned in the Tower of London, before her coronation,
was
secretly married to the Earl of Leicester,

title.
and
this son
should by right have borne the
Prince of Wales.
The
dates of the imprisonment of Leicester
and Elizabeth in
the
Tower correspond
sufficiently
with the assertion.
matter so vitally affecting the destinies of England and

Elizabeth's succession to the
crown could not then be
divulged and the child was given to
Anne and Mcholas

father was Lord
Bacon and reared
as their
own, under the name by which
he has since been known.
His
foster
Keeper of the Great Seal of England.

was eminent for
skilled in the
His
foster
mother
piety, virtue
and learning, and was highly
Greek and Latin tongues.

years of age,
At twelve
where,
when most
children are but be-
ginning to think, he entered Trinity College, Cambridge,
we
are told, the students were forbidden to use even
in conversation, any other language than Latin,
Greek or
Hebrew.
While
at this College,
from
his thirteenth to his
fifteenth year, this marvelous boy, studying the philosophy
of Plato and Aristotle in the original tongue,

satisfied
became
dis-
with the futility of
much
that was taught.
He left
College before he was sixteen, with his
mind formed, and
habits of research fixed, thenceforth to mature in intellectual independence
and
to
become the supreme scholar of
the age.
When
and was
dor,
sixteen years of age he discovered his parentage
at
once sent to France with the English Ambassayears, until
where he remained something over two
recalled
by the death of
Sir
Mcholas Bacon, who, contrary
FRANCIS BACON.
to expectation, left
41
no provision for Francis in
his will,
which becomes
coveries.
significant in the light of the recent dis-
It has
always been thought
strange by his
biographers that his supposed father, Nicholas Bacon,
made
no provision for
his support.
Eeasons of State, and reasons

of England, united with the
of vast import to the
Queen
unwdllingness of the
tions,
Queen
to
acknowledge early indiscre-
prevented the recognition of the rights of Francis, as
heir apparent.
shift for
He
was made to understand that he must

required by the
himseK, and taking up the study of law as the

five years
most promising resource, the next
course, he spent largely at Gray's Inn.
How much
and
time
was devoted
to law,
is
and how much
to literature
philo-
sophical studies
unknown.
amid exciting times, he was elected
to
At
twenty-five,
Parliament and was a

for several sessions.
member
of the
House
of
Commons
His aspirations for preferment were
held in check during Elizabeth's reign, but with the advent
King James he was more rapidly advanced came Lord High Chancellor of England.
of
until he be-
Three years
tion to a
later
fine
he was sentejiced for judicial corrup-
heavy
and imprisonment, but the sentence

was too patent
life
was remitted,
enforced.
as if the injustice of it
five
to be
The
remaining years of his public
were
spent in his literary labors, and the publication of his works,
and
his career closed at the age of a little less
than 66 years
in 1626.
By
his will,
drawn
just after his sentence,
he be-
queathed his name
''to
the next ages and to foreign na-
tions," k bequest literally carried out, as those of the present
day
hai'
>
become in the broadest sense

:
his legatees.
as a politician or as a
is
recent writer says
"Whether
justiciary, a philosopher or
man
of the world, there
in
42
FRANCIS BACON.
English history no nobler character than that of Francis
Bacon, yet no one has been more misapprehended, more

misrepresented, more maligned, than has he."
the most remarkable
man of whom any age
can boast."
"He was "He
soared to such a height that his contemporaries could not

fully estimate his genius, the justness of his views, and the
importance of his labors."
Lord Macaulay says
"Bacon's
mind was the most
exquisitely constructed intellect that has
ever been bestowed upon any of the children of men."
Pope, that "Lord Bacon was the greatest genius that England, or perhaps
any other country, ever produced."

of the
De-
Quincy
calls
him "the glory
human
intellect."
Welch
tion,
writes that "he belonged to the realm of imagina^
of eloquence, of jurisprudence, of ethics, of meta-
physics.
His writings have the gravity of prose, with the

Addison, that "he posthose extraordinary talents which were
fervor and vividness of poetry."

sessed at once
all
divided
among the greatest One does not know which
authors of antiquity
to admire most in his writings,
the strength of his reason, force of style, or brightness of
imagination;" while
that hearing the
Edward Burke wrote, "Who is there name of Bacon, does not instantly recogof discovery, the most penetratlife,
nize everything: of genius, the most profound; of literature, the

ing^;
most extensive
of observation of
human
the most distinguishing
and most refined."

him,
His friend Tobie Mathews wrote of

knowledge, of so
"A man
so rare in
many
several
kinds, indued with the facility

all,
and
felicity of expressing it
in so elegant, significant, so abundant, and yet so choice

allusions, as
and ravishing words, of metaphors and

the world has not seen since
it
perhaps
was a world."
And Macau-
lay avers "no
man
ever had an imagination so thoroughly
FRANCIS BACON.
subjugated.
43
In truth, much of Bacon's
life
was spent in a
\^sionary world, amidst things as strange as any that are
described in the Arabian
tales.''
The German author and

of Literature"
is
critic Schlegel,
:
whose "History
almost a
classic, says
"This mighty genius

as
ranks as the father of modern physics, inasmuch
he
brought back the
spirit of investigation
from the barren,
verbal subtleties of the .schools, to nature and experience;
he made and completed

self,
many
important discoveries him-
and seems
to
have had an imperfect foresight of many
others.
"Stimulated by his capacious and stirring
intellect, ex-
perimental science extended her boimdaries in every direction; intellectual culture, nay, the social organization of
modern Europe
plection."
generally, assumed a
new
shape and com-
In Lord Macaulay's essay these
extracts occur:
"With
to
great minuteness of observation he had an ampli-
tude of comprehension such as has never been vouchsafed
any other human being.
Though Bacon did not arm

"In
his
his
philosophy with weapons of logic, he adorned her profusely

with
all
the richest decorations of rhetoric."
mag-
nificent
day dreams, there was nothing wild, nothing but

reason
sanctioned.
what
sober
He knew
that all the
secrets,
feigned of poets to have been written in the books
of the enchanters, are worthless
when compared with
the
mighty
secrets
which are really written in the book of

that all the wonders wrought
nature; and which w^th but time and patience will be read
there.
He knew
by
talis-
mans
in fable were trifles compared to
the wonders which

fruit,
might reasonably be expected from the philosophy of
and that
if his
words sank deep into the minds of men, they

44
FRANCIS BACON.
effects
would produce
such as superstition never ascribed

It
to the incantations of the magicians
was
here that he loved to let his imagination loose.

to picture to himself the
He
loved
his
world as
it
would be when
philosophy should, in his the bounds of Europe/ "
own noble
phrase, ^have enlarged
Bacon's central tJiought was that religion, philosophy
and
literature should
have a direct and practical bearing

life easier,
upon the well-being of mankind, and make

important, more interesting.
more
its
That progress must be
purpose and end, for the good of the world, and this will
be found to be the key-note throughout.
Our
estimate of the life and character of Bacon, as well
as the political history of the reign of
Queen
Elizabeth,
his-
must needs be revised frona the auto-biographical and

torical material
which the Cipher furnishes.
It has
been
claimed that he was cold-blooded, and without affection or

regard for the gentler sex.
The contrary
is
the fact.
Dur-
ing his stay in France occured the absorbing romance of his

life,
in a passionate love for
and beautiful wife of Henry of
Queen Marguerite, the young ISTavarre. The life of a
young Prince
though
ter
in the
gay Court of France, accredited from
the Court of England, a descendant of

his title
Henry
the VII.
bet-
was unacknowledged
can perhaps be
of
imagined than described.
The conduct
Henry of
Throughsufficiently
Iâvarre had led to expectations of a divorce.
out the Cipher Story are found references which
show the powerful influence
this absorbing passion exer-
cised over the after life of Francis.
marriage
was
planned, to take place

N'avarre,
and Sir
when divorce could be obtained from Aymas Paulet attempted to negotiate the
FRANCIS BACON.
arrangement with Queen Elizabeth, but
this not
45
meeting
with her approval, the marriage scheme failed and the

divorce was not obtained.
is
The Play
of
Romeo and
Juliet
based on this love story, with Marguerite and Francis

its
for
real characters.
In the "^N'ew
Atlantis,'' published
after his death, the Cipher says

'^Th'
fame of
it
th'
gay French Court had come
to
me
even
then,
and
was
flattering to th'
youthf uU and most naturall
love
o' th' affaires
taking us from
my native land,
inasmuch
as th' secret
commission had been entrusted to me, which

true wisdome for safer, speedier conduct
if left to th'
required
tlien
much
'twould have
common
course
o'
businesse.
Soe with much interessed, though sometimes apprehensive

minde, I made rayselfe ready to accompanie Sir Amyias
to that
sunny land
o' th'
South I learn'd soe supremely to

left
love, that afterwârds I
would have
remain
England and every

life there.
hope
o'
advancement
to
my
whole
Iôr
yet could this be due to th' delights of th' country, by

itselfe,
for love
o'
sweete Marguerite, th' beautiful! young

th'
sister o' th'
Idng (married to gallant Henri

it
King
o'
Xavarre) did make
Eden
to
my
innocent heart, and even
when
I learn'd her perfidie, love did keepe her like th'
angels in
my
thoughts half
o' th'
time
as to th' other half
she was devilish, and I myselfe was plung'd into hell.

lasted duri'g
This
many
o' life
yeares, and, not until four decades or
eight lustres
were
outliv'd, did I take

th'
any other
to
my
sore heart.
Then I married
woman who
hath put
Marguerite from
my
memorie
rather, I should say, hath
banisht her portrait to th' walles of memorie, onely, where

it
doth hang in th' pure,
undimmed beauty
of those early
dayes
while her most
lovelie presence doth possesse this
entire mansion, of heart
and braine.
46
FRANCIS BACON.
Yet here I have a
little digressed,
although the matter
doth appertaine iinto

Sir
my
story at a later period.
When
Amyias Paulet became
avised of
my
love,
he proposed
that he should negotiate a treaty of marriage, and appropriately urge
on her pending case
o'
the divorce from the
young Huguenot; but for reasons of very grave importance

these buds of an early marriage never open'd into flower.
But the future

to cover every
race will profit
by
th' failure in
the field of
love, for in those flitting dales afterward,
having resolv'd
marke
of defeate with th' triumphs o'
my
minde, I did thoroughly banish

th' regions o' clouds as unreall,
my
and
is
tende' love dreams to

let
my
works of
vari-
ous kinds absorb
my
minde.
It
thus by
my
disappoint-
ments that I do secure to many, fruition."

M.
CIPHEKS.
Bacon, from childliood, was intended for a public career.
At
that time
all
diplomatic, and
much
personal correspond-
ence was committed to cipher.

benefits, conferred
tion,
Among
known
the substantial
upon mankind by Bacon, was the invenis
while in France, of what
as the Baconian, or
Bi-literal Cipher,
which
is
adaptable to a multitude of means
and
is
uses.
It
may
not be generally
known
that this Cipher
the basis of nearly every alphabetical code in use in telegIt

is
raphy, and in the signal service of the world.
in brief,
its
an alphabet which requires only two unlike things for

operation.
These
may
be two slightly differing fonts of
type on a printed page, as illustrated in the example given,

at length in his
his death; or
it
De Augmentis, published not long before may be a dot or slight disfigurement in a

and dash, or short and
alter-
single font, or the alternating dot
long sound space of the Morse telegraphic code, or the
nating long and short flash of light as in the heliographic

system; the "wig-wag" of a flag or signal light, or two col-
ored lights alternately displayed; in short any means whatever alternating any two unlike or unequal signs, sounds,
motions or things.
gression, almost
Under the
rules of arithmetical pro-
innumerable alphabets can be constructed,

its
by
these
means undecipherable without

limitations
particular key.
It has
no
upon
its
usefulness and has never been
surpassed in security, ingenuity or simplicity.

self called this
Bacon himin
all
the Omnia-per-omnia, the
all
cipher,
and the name
is
completely descriptive.
47
48
CIPHERS.
On
a following page, from

is
"Advancement
tlie
of Learning,"
(1605),
Bacon's
first
reference to
plan,
Bi-literal Cipher.
its
The next reference with the

appears eighteen years
Scientiarum, in 1623.
and the key to

Latin
use,
later, in the
De Angmentis
day
The system has been

that
recognized, and used, since the
De Augmentis was
published, and has had
its
place
in every translation and publication of that work since,
but the ages have waited to learn that

the original books themselves
it
was embedded in
his earliest
from the date of
writings (1579 as
sonal history.
now known) and
infolded his secret per-
The two
of the
editions of
De Augmentis form an
tell
illustration
manner
in which the different editions of the
same
work form each a separate study and

Story.
a different Cipher
issued, accord-
The
first,
or
"London"
edition,
was
ing to Spedding, in October, 1623.

edition,
The
next, or "Paris"
was issued in 1624.
They
differ in the Italic
printing,
first.
and some errors in the second do not occur in the

edition has been deciphered; and the hidthis
The 1624
den story appears in
volume (page 310).
The 1623
edition has not, as yet, been deciphered.
It seems to be a
rare edition.
There are two copies in the British Museum,
one in the Bodleian library at Oxford, two in Cambridge,
and one in the choice collection of old books in the library

of Sir
Edwin Durning-Lawrence.
In the course of the work, Marlowe's Edward Second
had been deciphered before De Augmentis was taken up.
At the end
"
of
Edward Second
it
occurs this veiled statement,
referring to
. .
De Augmentis
(page 152 Bi-literal Cypher)
the story
contains (our twelf t king's nativity
since our sovereign, whose tragedy
we
relate in this
way)
CIPHERS.
shall
49
now know
the day
."
Had
Francis succeeded to
the throne, he would have been the twelfth king (omitting
Edward Second, hence the inference that De Augmentis would contain much of his personal history. The disappointment was great when instead of this, the hidden matter was found to be the Argument of the Odysthe queens) after
sey,
something not anticipated, or wanted, and would never
have been the result of choice or imagination of the decipherer.
At
the close of the deciphered
work in Burton^s
Anatomy, in which the Argument of the Iliad was most

unexpectedly
found
another
great
disappointment
is
this veiled statement:
(page 309)
"...
aid
while a Latin
work
De
Augmentis
will
give
upon the other
(meaning the Odyssey).

."
As
in this wôrk (meaning the

it
Iliad) favorite parts are enlarged (in blank verse) yet as
lendeth
ayde
i.
e.,
sets
pattern
for
the
writing out of the Odyssey in the
Word
Cipher.
is
This exthat the

to
plained the 1624 edition, and the inference
1623 edition will disclose the personal history referred on page 152.
In the 1624 edition there are some errors in the

tration of the cipher methods
illus-
and in the Cicero Epistle

edition.
which do not occur in the 1623
The Latin words
midway on page
282, "qui pauci sunt" in the 1623 edition,
are "qui parati sunt" in the 1624, page 309,
an
error
referred to on page 10 of the Introduction of the Bi-literal
Cypher
as
wrong termination, there being
too
many
letters
for the group, and one letter
must be omitted.
Other
variations show errors in
making up the forms on pages
307 and 308 in the 1624 edition, w^hether purposely for
50
CIPHERS.
it is
confusion or otherwise,
impossible to
tell.
The
line
on page 307,
^'Exemplum Alphabeti Biformis

308, while
"
should be placed above the Bi-formed Alphabet on page
"Exemplum Accomodaiionis'
should be placed above the example of the adaptation just
preceding.
The repetition of twelve letters
of the bi-formed
alphabet could hardly be called a printer's error, as they

are of another form, unlike those on the preceding page,
and may be taken
as
an example of the statement that "any
two forms will do."

to
In these
illustrations the letters
seem
be drawn with a pen and are a mixture of script and pe-
culiar forms,
and unlike any in the regular fonts of type

N'o part of the Cipher Story is
letters
used in the printed matter.
embodied in the script or pen
on these pages.
Whether or not the changing of the

posely, the
lines
was done pur-
grouping of the Italic

ilie
letters
from the regular
fonts is consecutive as
printed lines stand, the wrong
make-up causing no break in the connected narration.

There are many obscure statements throughout the Biliteral
Cypher, such as are noted in Edward Second and
in Burton.
To
the decipherer they have a meaning, indi-
cating what to look for and where to find that which is
necessary for correct and completed work, as well as to
guard against errors and incorrect translation.
ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP.
Of the
Advancement of Learning.
(London,
1605.)
CYPHARS
they are commonly in Letters or Alphabets, but may bee in Wordes. The kindes of C Y p H A R s, (befides the Simple Cyphars
For
CYpHARs
with Changes, and intermixtures of
Nonsignificant
s)
are
N v l l e s, and many, according to

:
the Nature or Rule of the infoulding &c.
WheeleCyphars, Ka y-C yphars, Dovbles,

;
But the vertues of them, whereby they are to be preferred, are three that they be not laborious to write and reade; that they bee impofsible to difcypher; and in fome cafes, that they bee The higheft Degree whereof, without fufpition. Per Omnia; which is is to write vndoubtedly pofsible, with a proportion Quintuple
Omnia
and
;
at moft, of the writing infoulding, to the writing
infoulded,
no
other
reftrainte
whatfoeuer.
of Difcypheringe
hath for Relatiue, an Art by fuppofition vnprofitable but, as things are, of great vfe. For fuppofe that Cyphars were well mannaged, there bee Multitudes of them which exclude the Difcypberer. But in regarde of the rawnefTe and vnskilfulneffe of the handes, through which they paffe, the greateft
This Arte of
Cypheringe,
Matters, are
Cyphars,
many
times carryed in the weakeft
De Augmentis Scientiarum
(Translation, Gilbert Wats, 1640.)
Wherefore
let
us come to
y p h a R s.
Their kinds
Cyphars of
are
UûlloeSy
many, as Cyphars (imple; or non - fignificant Characters;

Cyphars of Words; Others.
Cyphars intermixt with
double Letters under one Character; IVheele-Cyphars ; Kay-
Cyphars;
But the virtues

That they be
if it he
of
them whereby they are

and
lie
to be preferr'd are Three;
That they he ready y and not laborious to write;

jure,
not open to Deciphering;
And
laflly,
pofsibky that they be
managed without fufpition.
But that jealoufies may be taken away, we will annexe an other invention, which, in truth, we devifed in our youth, when we were at Paris : and is a thing that yet feemeth to us not worthy to be It containeth the higheji degree of Cypher, which loft.
is
to fignifie omnia per omnia, yet
fo
as the writing
infolding,
may
beare a quintuple proportion to the
writing infolded;
no other condition or reftriction whatfoever is required. It fhall be performed thus: Firft let all the Letters of the Alphabet, by tranfpofor the fition, be refolved into two Letters onely tranfpofition of two Letters by five placings will be fufificient for 32. Differences, much more for 24. which is the number of the Alphabet, The example of fuch an Alphabet is on this wife.
;
An
Example of a î-literarie Alphabet.
<^
C
I
T>
E
L
F
04
oAaaaa aaaah aaaha. aaabb. aahaa. aahah.
H
O
aabba aabbb abaaa. abaab, ababa. ababb.

3SC Q^ S Ti abbaa. abbab, abbba. abbbb, baaaa. baaab,
7
have, and
V
is it
IV
X
:
baaba. baabb, babaa. babab, babba. babbb.

Neither
opened,
a fmall matter thefe Cypher-Characters
may performe For by this Art a way is whereby a man may exprelTe and fignifie
the intentions of his minde, at any diftance of place, by objects which may be prefented to the
and accommodated to the eare provided thofe objects be capable of a twofold difference onely as by Bells, by Trumpets, by Lights and Torches,
eye,
:
by the report of Muskets, and any inftruments of like nature. But to purfue our enterprife, when you addreffe your felfe to write, refolve your inward-infolded Letter into this Say the inter iotir Letter be
Fuge.
"Bi-literarie
Alphabet,
Example of Solution,
F
aabab,
V
baabb,
G
aabba.
E
aabaa.
Together with this, you muft have ready at hand a 'Bi-formed Alphabet, which may reprefent all the Letters of the Common Alphabet, as well Capitall
Letters as the Smaller Characters in
a double
forme, as
may
fit
every mans occafion.
An
Example of a "Bi-formed Alphabet.
)a Âaa
i
bah
a b
a b
a b a b
"BBbi CCccT>Ddd EEee FFff a 6 a 6 a bah a b a b a b a b a b a b a b a b \GGgg HHbh J Hi KKkh ILll

(
MMmm
a a a a a a abababab OOoo %Iirr TPpp QJiqq XtJ^Nnn SSss Sab a a a a a abababab ab ia JTttVVvvuulVWwwXXxx YYyy ZZ^z
I
a b
Now
you
to the interiour letter, which
is
Biliterate,
fhall fit a biformed exteriour letter, which fhall anfwer the other, letter for letter, and afterwards fet it downe. Let the exteriour example be,
OAanere
te volo,
donee venero.
An
Example of Accommodation.
F
a
V
b
b.
G
a a
b b a, a a
E
baa.
a b a b.b a a
{Manere
te
volo donee venero
We have annext likewife a more ample example

of the cypher of writing omnia per omnia:
letter,
An
interiour
which to expreffe, we have made choice of

ftaffe.
a Spartan letter fent once in a Scytale or round
cypher'd
Spartan Dispatch,
j^ll
is lost.
{Mindarus
is
killed.
The soldiers
longer
want food.
here.
We can neither get hence nor stay

firft
An
exteriour letter, taken out of the

is
Epiftle
of Cicero, wherein a Spartan Letter
involved.
Cicero's First Epistle.
Jn
a a
all
A
\
duty or rather piety towards

a\a
\
aaa\ahab
L
a\ab
\
a a a\b a I
\
a a b \a b a b
you, I satisfy everybody except myself. a b b a a\ a a\ a b b a b\i a a a b \baaba\ab a b b\ab a a a M o [My self J never satisfy. For so great are
I
|^|r|
a a\b a a
r/|iv|
\
a a
d\a\r\u\
b b\a
a a
a a\b a a
b b
a a
a b a a a\ b a a I S
\
the services
a b\a b a a b\ab a a I
\
which you have rendered me,

a\a
\
abaa\aaab D 1^1 that seeing you did not rest in your enaaba\aabbb\a aba E |^|<9|i;| H
a b
a\a
\
a\a
b\ b
\
a\b a
a a b\a b b a
b [a
a b a
a a
deavours on my behalf
abb\abaaa\aa b I E D
\ \
done,
abba
N
E
\r\s\w\a\ had J \t\f\o\o\d\w\

a
a\b a a a a
\,b
till the
aaa
b\b a
thing was
a a
a\
b a a\a a
feel as if life
baab
a\a
lost all its sweetb\aa
ab a
b\a b
b a b
abb a
abb
\b a
baa
ness, because
a a
b
J cannot
a
do as
a a
\
much
b
in this
a\a a a b
\
a\a
\
a a a a b b
\
cause of yours. a a a b a a b a a a b b I T H
\ \
b a a\a b N N The occasions are these:

\ \
a b
a a\a a
1^1
\
b\
\
a a
a a\b a a a a\a
\
abb
G
a\a a b a
^mmonius,
a
\
the king' s
\
ly
a\a
\
is
a b b a\a b a b a
v\l\o\n\
\
H E N C besieges us with money. The business b b a a\a b b a b \b aaaa\baaab baa b a\a a a a a\b N O R S r A carried on through the same creditors
T
\
\ \ \
I
a a
b a\ a
ambassador, openbbblaaba a\aibaa\aaaba\aaba
a b
b a
b\a b
a\a a
b b
abaa\baaaa\ e r
\
\
who were employed

a a b
in it
\
when you were

a\ a a a
I
b b\a a
\
a a\b a a a a
\
a a
a a a
a aa a
here S-c.
(
N o T K ) This Translation from Spedding,
ElHs
& Heath Ed.
(REPRODUCTION .)
Epistle,
Jn all duty or rather piety towards you, I satisfy everybody except myself, OAyself J never satisfy. For so great are the services which you have rendered me, that, seeing you did not rest in your endeavours on my behalf till the thing was done, 7 feel as if life had lost all its sweetness, because J cannot do as much in this cause ofyours. The occasions are these: Jlmmonius, the king's ambassador^ openly besieges us The business is carried on through the with money. same creditors who were employed in it when you were here &^.
Cipher infolded.
Jill
is lost.
want food.
here.
We
The soldiers zMindarus is killed. can neither get hence nor stay longer
hath drawne on with it a knowledge relative unto it, which is the knowledge
The knowledge of Cyphering,
of Difcypheringy or of Difcreting Cyphers, though a
man
were utterly ignorant of the Alphabet of the Cypher, and the Capitulations of fecrecy paft between the Parties. Certainly it is an Art which requires great paines and a good witt and is [as the other was]
confecrate to the Counfels of Princes: yet notwith-
ftanding by diligent previfion
it
may be made
it
un-
be of great ufe. were invented & practifed, many of them would delude and foreftall all the Cunning of the Decypherer^ which yet are very apt and eafie to be read or written: but the rawneffe and unskilfulneffe of Secretaries^ and Clarks in the
profitable, though, as things are,
For
if
good and
faithfull Cyphers
Courts of Princes, is fuch, that many times the greateft matters are committed to futile and weake Cyphers.
BARONI S DE VERVLAMIO,
VICE-COMITIS
SANGTI ALBANI.
DE DIGNTTATE ET JrGMMNTIS
FRANCISCI
SClENTlARrM.
L
I
B R
X,
^ D KEC E M
yVM
luxta ExempIatLondini IttiprclTum.
P A
Typis
S,
Petri METTAYER,T)npograpbiK'^j
M. DC.
XX I V.
3o6
Dejdugmentii Sciemiarum.
Litcras fojuantur
y;
tumtnodo
.carum.
per Tranfpofitioftcm
duarum Literarum , per Locprquinquc, Diflrercntiis.triginra duabus, multd nragis viginti quatuor ( qui cS: Numerus Jlpha^ ^mapudnos ) lufficrct. Huius jilfhahen Excmpluiu
tale eft.
Nam Tranfpofitio
Excmplum K^l^hdhetiMlteurpj^
^
"^
^
V)
(h
CrPPaa.awap âppfa^ MPPPpSaaaOrJaraap-
00
y ^
,
laapar.paaPP^paSaa 'PapapJapfa.SaSSf
Neque Icucquiddara obiter hocjnodo perfedum cftÊtenim ex hoc ipfopatet Modus quoadoinncm
Loci Diftantiam,per Obicd:a>qu2e vcl Vifui^vcl Auditui fubijci poflint^Senfa
liceat :
fi
Animx proferre, & fignificarc
raodo Obieda illa,duplicis tantum DifFcrcnticapaciafunt, velutipcrCampanas , per Buccinas^ per Flammeos,pet SonitusTormentorum,& alia quunque. Verumvtlacoeptumpcrfequamur^cum ad
Scribendum accingoris , Epiftolam intcriorem va^sAlr fhcthemmhocîliseramm (biues. Sit cpiftolaintcriori

Fnge.
LiherSextus'.
507
Exeinplunl SolmionU.
bcLdbu^ (LdLbpci^ ddpaa JidM^ Prfto fimul Git^lmd Jphal?tum

Biforme,nitniTuio\
quod iingulas
j^lfbaheti
Communis Literas ^ tarn Capi-
taics^quam miriores^duplici Forma , prout cuiqj
com-
modam^fit cxhibeat-
Exemplum
Al^nahctiBiformiSo
Turn demum Epiftolae Interiori;, iam fa6ta^ Bdlterdt^y

Epiftolam Exteriorcm Bi/ir^;f;^ literatim accommodabis,&pofteadefcribes. Sit Epiftola Exteriors
Manefe te ôlo donee venero.
Exemplum Accommoddtionis.
paopamm. Pafm^ (afap. bcippor. pMk

Appoluimus ctiam Exemp'lum
aliud largius eiuf^
dem Ciphrac
Scr'thendi
OmnU per Omnia.
Epiftok Interior , ad quam dolegimus Epijlolam Sârtanam , miflam olim in Scytalc,
Verdiu %js. Q:PifCindarm
cecidit t:^tlites eju'
riunt. y^^que hincnos extricare,
neque
hicdmpins manerepojfumm.
Q^
ii
jo8
DeiAfigmemliSctemiarum,
J.â.A<i^.^.Q. (f.ccM/I
a. /-<?r.A d'
p*a,kar.p,
aS
a, p.a.b.
(t'
PdJ- <^'
p,
O'.
P' c(,p* a* P' d' p, u. /.
a.
<^.
P, a^
p,<ir p.
a,
/.ft.
A <f. p. cp.c
XMn.n.O. e.s.K
p
'tt'P'a.p.OrP.d* p-a^'Pâ.
p.Apâp
<^.
P' a^.p*
<v, p^
a^,p*
d'P-aP'aP'U.f,
Epiftola Exterior, fumpta ex Epiftol^ Prima

in
CkmfnSi ûa />iô/<(5p4rf<f4inuoIuitur.
LihrSextif,
op
iudo itmim zr^ mc
mmivrwfi,yiyuom-
VcreosJBnt ctcdlhrc^ pzTdVLcrs,
cumiu adsz
jui Pemf^jttipa^ r<ifimnôntms ai$imt>iz

iwii rem
^tonis-
h^mômnt
Senahs Îi=
cammmam non t[mont iictiwi^
Q3
iij
PARS SECVNDA OPERIS,

CtVAE
DICITVR
V
E
NOVVM ORGAN VM,

S
I
INDICIA VERA
T>E
I3^TE%T%ETATlO:hQE
VEEST TA%S T%IMA
INSTAVRATIONIS,
QVjE comtlectitv\ PARTITIONES SCIENTIARVM*
lUa tamen ex Secmdo Libro de Progrcriibus faciendis in Dodtrina Xî'
uina& Humana, nonnuU

lou ex parte feti
fojfunt.
SBQVirV%^SSCVtNi'DA TA.%S
NSTVARATIONIS,
Qjr^
Interpretandi
A%TSM ITSAM
neque earn ipfam
iujii;
^^turam,0* yeriom adoperatio*
nis Ineelie3us exbihet :
tamen in Corpore tra&atus
fid tantum digeftam per

fummastin Apho'
rifmos.
PRAE.FA'
FRANCISCI
BARONIS
VERVLAMIO, VICE-COMITIS
S
ANCT
A LBANI,
Hiftoria Vita 6c ^SMorlis.

S
I
V E>
TITVLVS SECVNDVS
inHiftoriaNaturali Experiniencali ad conêndam Philolbphiam
Qua?
eft
&
msrAV%ATioiiis magt^^
PARS TERTIA.
Zf^^^-
%^^
In Officinal o.
Hav
l a n.d, impenfis
1(525.
Matthaei Lownes,
The fifft pare
Of the true & honorable hiftory,of the Life

Sir lohn Old^callle, thegood
of
Lord Cobham.
As it hath hem lately a2ted by the "Right honorable the Earle ofôtingham Lord High tAdmiraUof England,
hisSeruantu
Writtenby William ShakcTpore.
Londonprintedfor T T.
1600.
LONDON
ProdigalL
As it was plaide by the Kings Maicflies
TJfE
feruants.
By FfîUiamShake/peare,
LONDONVnntcihyT.C.foxKathaffki Suiter, imd

are to be fold ncerciy. t^fiins qzxc^ at the figncof the pydcBuSt
YORKSHIRE
TRAGEDIE.
ôtjo ^^(p>,
Lamentabk and True.
as
Written by W,
Shakespeare.
Printed for
T,
*P,
1619;
FRANCIS BACON'S
BI-LITERAL CIPHER
THE DECIPHERED SECRET STORY
From
Original Editions in British
Museum
i^yg
to
i^go.
PUBLISHEKS' NOTE.
THIRD EDITION.
The publication
Cypher
of the second edition of the Bi-literal
of Francis Bacon, which embraced the period of his
Cipher writing between 1590 and the end of his career,

emphasized the importance of finding the earlier writings
preceding
summer
1590.
The
old books necessary to the re-
search could not be procured in America, and during the

of 1900 Mrs. Gallup and her assistant, Miss Kate
E. Wells, visited England to carry on the work in that

treasure house of early literature, the British
Museum.
The
investigations yielded rich returns, for in Shepheard's
Calender of 15Y9 was found the commencement of what
proved to be an important part of Bacon's
life
work.
Following Shepheard's Calender, the works between
1579 and 1590,

1584.
so far deciphered, are:
Araygnement of
Paris,
1584; Mirrour of Modestie,
Planetomachia, 1585.
Treatise of Melancholy, 1586.
Two
editions of this
Italics.
is
were issued the same year, with differing
The
first
in.
ends with an incomplete cipher word which

the second for the continued narration, thus
completed
making evident
which was
the
first
published, unless they were published at
same time.
These two
also join
first
Euphues, 1587; Morando, 1587.

together, with
an incomplete word at the end of the
finding
its
completion in the commencement of the Cipher
in the second.
Perimedes the Blacke-smith, 1588; Pandosto,

These two
also join together.
76
1588..
Spanish Masquerade, 1589.
Two
editions of this
work
In
bear date the same year, but have different Italicising.
one edition the Cipher Story

signature:
"Fv., Prince."
is
complete, closing with the

is
In the other the story
not
complete, the book ending with an incomplete cipher word,

the remainder of
which will be found in some work of a
near date which has not yet been indicated.

Several months were spent in following, through these
old books, the thread of the concealed story until
the
it
joined
work which had already been published.

from the
Overstrained
eye-sight,
close study of the different
forms of
Italic letters,
and consequent exhaustion on the part of

all
Mrs. Gallup, compelled a cessation of the work before

that
would have been desirable

;
to
know
concerning that
all
early period was deciphered
and while these are not
the
works in which Cipher will be found, between the years
1579 and 1590, they are
sufficient
unmistakably to connect
the earlier writings with those of later date which
had
already been deciphered
as published in the Bi-literal
Cypher
so that
we now know
the Cipher writings were
being continuously infolded in Bacon's works, for a period

of about forty-six years,
from the
first to
the last of his
lit-
erary productions, including some matter he had prepared,
which was published by Rawley subsequent
to 1626.
to that
These few pages of deciphered matter, now added
published in the Second Edition, haVe a unique distinction

in the costliness of their production, but they are of ines-
timable value, historically, as well as from a literary point

of view, in demonstrating with certainty the scope and
completeness of the Cipher plan which has so long hidden

the secrets of a most eventful period.
77
yEta-tts sucR Id-
2378.
FKAXCIS BACOX'S BI-LITEEAL CYPHEE.
SHEPHEAED'S CALENDEE.
1579.
DEDICATION BY "E. K." 1579. ATTRIBUTED TO ED. SPENSER, 1611.

E. K. wil bee found to be nothing lesse then
signifying
th' th' letters
future
sov'raigne,
or
England's
King.
Th' present Queene, purely

sorte
selfish in all that
doth in a
make
for proper, tho' tardie recognition of that true
prerogative of roiale bloud, doth most boldly and co'sta'tly
oppose with h'r arguments
th'
puny
which hath most disproved

partlie ghest)
abilitie to
effort in our cause uphold our true and
rightful (but at this present time, very little scene or onely
her Ma.
who bore in honourable wedlocke Eobert,

Walter Devereux, as wel
as
clayme
to roiall pow'r.
In event
o'
death of
known
as sonne to
now him who now
speaketh to th' yet unknowne aidant discypherer that wil
open the dores of the sepulcher to break in sunder the bonds and cerementes of a marvaillous historic, we the eldest
borne, should, by the Divine right of a lawe of
God made
binding on man, inherit scepter and thron'.

Lest most vilde historie have no penne so bolde as to
write out some daungerous matter' that have of late beene
layd bare to us,
we have made
search for anie such secret
mode
of transmission as might conceale this whollie, yet in

it
chose the readers. Fayling meanes have alwaie[a] like sorte of keie held by each interpreter, wee devis'd two Cyphars
time, or
in this, as all our existing
may chance ere long,
now
us'd for th'

safe,
first
time, for this saide secret historie, as
cleere,
and undecipherable,
79
whilst containing th'
80
BI-LITERAL
CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON.
keyes in each which open the most important,

device that witholdeth th' same.
a prepared, or readily discovered, alphabet,
as anie
Till a discypherer finde

it
semeth to us
is
a thing almost impossible, save by Divine gift and heavenly

instinct,
that he should bee able to read
what
thus
reveal'd.
It
may, percha'ce, remaine in hiding

this heavilie barred
untill a future
people furnish wittes keener then these of our owne times

to
open
house of treasure.
entrance-way and enter the Yet are we in hourly terror least th^
It is for good cause, there-
Queene, our enemie at present, altho' likewise our mother,

be cognisant of our invention.
fore, that
our worst feares cling to us so constantly that our

is alter'd,
intention
and the cheefe Cyphar be not heerein

FR. B.
set forth in
such manner as was meant.
THE AKAYGIÊME:NtT of
By
waiting
usi'g our
PAEIS.
1584.
GEORGE PEEDB.
Word Cyphar
heere, our labours are
greatlie increast.
also, at
Wittes must be keen in a like search
other seasons, as a warie
mind must
oft to
get th' game, yet
making noe noyse in
his rejoyci'g over th'
great discoverie.
our secret history
Wee may
write in this constant dread least
be found and sette out ere
safe ev'n fro' th' butcher's deadlie axe, and

shift sodainely for saftie.
Be
not then caste
we be make manie a downe if there
be
much
that
is
promist you for which you shal long hunt

so oft bene seyzed with violent f eare
vainlie, since
we have
The', manifold times, our tho'ght sodainely changeth answer therto. But it wil
in due time bee related wholly.
of that which might arise thence.
Safety should
arise,
no
IN
lesse
THE ARAYGNBMENT OF
PARIS.
81
then knowledge, from time's passage.
Our mother
ân hardly be immortall.

It is also true that increast writings greatlie lessen our
chaunces of losse
as herein,
for
when
portions are widelie scattered,
most shal see buf Latine and Greeke in diverbs of rare worth, nor see our free use of great VirgilFs vers', translated in the schools, and the more wôndrous Homer,
his poemes.
th' secret is
it is
Their
eies rest
on our Cyphar, yet
to divulge
not in th' power of any that live at present ; for
yet in meere infancy and none recognise th' forme and

it is at
features that
length,
wee doubt
not, to donne, as it
commeth
to height of developed body.

set
In sorrowe we
th' luckles
wordes herein: we know not their
fate nor ours in a future near or f arr, for
we
are in truth
Prince of Wales, whome,

it
alas,
wit no
way o'
safe
escape hath taughte, if
bee not in hiding wel our mar-
vaillous storie, in order to

friends,
whose
loialtie
may
ing
serve, at
God's morn of aidance, as e'courageme't.

is
uniting
til'
many
pow'res such
to
communicate it to some distant princes of a rank such as ours
By
lofty endevou' for perfect-
knowledge that
in the world, joined also with a
strife for th' elevation, in all
this
whole people
:
kingdoms under heaven, of

shall bee given wise-
th'
Divine wil or planne doth perchance
have full swaie
for
when mankinde
dome
artes
in so great fullnes, idle courtiers
may
find
no true
use of subtile arts.
We ourself hate,
God hath
laid
with princely hatred,
now
exercised to keepe th' vanitie of our regall parent

fire,
glowing like
for
on that head a richer
crowne then
displaie
it
this
before
all eies.
is
diademe upo' her brow, yet wil she not It is th' rich crowne of mothe'PR.
hoode.
Our
true title
OF WALES.
82
BI-LITERAL
CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON
THE MIEKOUK OF MODESTIE.

ROBERT GREENE.
For our
to
latest booke, it will, at first,
1584.
seeme probable
our disciph'rer, one part doth lacke here

created, as
it
a part that
whose
had
were, some secret world into which the

e'ter.
unseing can by noe meanes
Our
discoverer,
sight lookt through all th' disguises, hath bin fro' th' first
familiar with a most secret, as

fession that
is so
it is
most dangerous, conit
framed
it
hinteth th' strange things

letters
would
relate,
hath also scene in these

^wee
two kinds
necessarie to the Cypher, and will teach this discipherer
our designe,
once cost
having invented two excellent waies of

it
co'cealing in our workes a secret so dangerous

life,
fame, fortu'e
would
at
all
that
wee hold
deare.
We
are firstborne to th' soe-called virgin that gov-
erneth our realme, Queene Elizabeth.

Francis, Prince of Wales,
In event of the
and
this
abdication or death of the Queene, wee this sonne,
inherit this throne

it shall
crowne, and our land shall rejoice, for

soveraigne.
God e'dued
us with wisedome, th'
have a wise gift granted
in answer to Salomon's prayers.
It is not in us aught
unmeet or headie-rash
prais'd.
to say this, for our Creatour onlie is
'None will charge here manifestation of worldly
vanitie, for it is but th' pride naturall to
we
injoye, indeed, in
pri'ces.
If
it
mindes such as youthfuU roial should bee wanting, then might all men saye
common with
all
wee lack'd
is
th'
very essence of a roiall or a ruling

to raigne over
spirit, or
judge that we were unfit
mightie England. It
onely one of our happie dreemes of a day to come, that
doth draw us on to build upon this grou'd, inasmuch as

shall be long, perhaps,
it
if soe
bright a daye dawne,
ere
we
shal bask in his
sunny
rayes.
Even now,
th'
mother who
IN
THE MIRROUR OF MODESTIE.
83
her imployment.
might proclayme our succession cloth scarcely keep us in At no time doth a love for her two sonnes so move her, as to lead her, a queene by inherited right, to do as her roiall pare't had providently done, or to declare
the succession should be to her right heyres by a just union with that wel markt sutour, Robert D.
Fine mindes
fame,
if
as ours cannot suffer this fortune without

to recover
making anie attempte

from
style,
by
skillfull
meanes
th'
not th' honour, which unkind fates have taken away
us.
Wee
fain would write workes.most lofty in their

th'
which, being suited as well to representation upon
stage as to bee read in libraries,

re'ch
may
soe go foorth
and
so
manie in
th'
land not as wise, mayhap, in knowledge,

If that
yet as great as others in loialtie and in fierie spirit.
deficiency be in a measure filled in our realme, this labour
in
unknowne
as a
coming yeeres wil surely bee of benefit, although it bee for a long season what is the cause and ultimate
designe, and, in the end, our
new
inventio' wil excell this
mode
of transmitting
all
matters of a secret or delicat'

since pains
nature.
It requyreth
more time in preparation,
must
necessarilie be used least the keyes bee lost in giving
the parts locatio' that altereth th' sense. As naught else was intended when our original designe was fourm'd, change of that which shal bee imparted in this way, the hidden epistle thus safely preserv'd from th' wrackes of
time's floode, can bee imderstood as importa't to our people
of Brittain, even as to us, for
'tis
their
own
roiall Prince,
th' silent
who, sufferi'g such wrongs, can patie'tlie heare
houres noe longer, though

ance for th' rashnesse.
life
should ever hang in the balfaith
One thing doth somewhat encourage our young

in enjoyment heereafter of our kingdo'e
;
that
is,
our advice
from a friend whose wise counsaile hath long bin aidante and comforting. It is to this effect That in age is a sense of dutie most felt, as is made plaine in freque't marked
:
84
BI-LITERAL
of

restorations
examples
tardie
late
in
life
many
power
exaijiples of a
deathbed arousing a man, his dormant coni'
science, to such sense of justice, that all wrong,

to see rectified, in wisedo'e
his
have beene righted. Wee therefore have beene in hope of our winning this inheritance in due time. We know how wearie, ever, is hope deferr'd. In th' Holy Booke of th' Scripture it saitli '^Hope deferred
:
maketh the heart

to
sicke."
Bee not, however, of opinion our hope is immediately become England's King. Wee request but our naturall
:
right
that
we be
;
declared the true heyre as the first borne
son to our Queene, borne to her in honourable marriage
with Robert D.
livi'g,
Wales whyles our parent be but the propper souveraigne wdth name and stile
the Prince
o'
quite disstinct fro' others
English kings having
soe f arre
had no Francis on th' scrowl that co'tayneth their worthy in proper course o' time, as other that Christian names were princes have had fortune before this in our realm.
Th' earliest shews of favour of this roial mother, as

patronesse rather than parent, were scene
ored our roofe so f arre as to
Nîcholas
then, as
when
she hon-
Bacon well wee might, for
become th' guest of goode Sir that kinde man wee supposed our father
his unchangeable gentle kind-
nesse, his constant carefullnesse for

"
our honour, our
safetie,
and true advancement. These become marked that wee pursew'd did make our tong sharp to
seldome, lacking Greeke epigram to
fit
as th' studie
replie
when
shee asked us a perplexing question, never, or at least

those shee quoted,
liveth, as
and wee were ofte bro't into her gracious presence. It do dreemes of yesternight, when now wee close
our eies
the
statelie
moveme'ts, grace of speech, quick

oft, as
smile and sodaine anger, that
April cloudes come
acros the sunne yet as sodainly are withdrawn, fiU'd us
with succeeding dismay, or brim'd our cup immediately

with joy.
IN
THE MIRROUR OF MODESTIE.
85
It doth as ofte recur that th' Queene, our roiall mother,
sometimes said in Sir Xicholas' eare on going to her co^ch ^'Have him wel instructed in knowledge that future station
shal
make
necessary."
]âturally quick of hearing,

o' th'
it
reaching our eares was caught
wing, and long turned
witte,
and pondered upon, but wê found no meaning, for all our no whispered woorde having passed th' lippes of noble Sir Nicholas on the matter. It wâs therefore long ere we knew our birth roial, and th' fond love of both foster parentes was restrainte and stave to our young spirit when the wild and fierie tempest sodainelie brast upo' us. This dread force wôuld otherwise have ruined, wasted and borne
us adrift like a despoil'd harvest.
In course of time, in a horrible passio' of w^tles wrath, was thus flasht, like as lightning, upon us by our proude roial parent her self e. We were in presence as had manie and oftentimes occurred, Que. E. havi'g a liking of our manners with a nomber o' th' ladies and severall of the gentlemen of her court, when a seely young maiden babied a tale Cecill, knowing her weakeness, had whispered in her eare. A daungerous tidbit it was, but it well did
th' revelation
satisfy th' malicious soule of a tale-bearer such as R. Cecill,
that concerned not her associate ladies at
all,
but
th'
honour,
the honesty of Queene Elizabeth,
ôe
sooner breath'd
truth, then half e
was hearde by the Queene, noe more, in hearde then 'twas avenged by th' enraged Queene. Never had we scene fury soe terrible, and it was some time that wee remayned in silent, horror-strook dismaye, at the fiery overwhelming tempest. At last when stript of al her fraile attire, the poor maid in frightened remors' lay quivering at Queene Elizabethes feet, almost
aloude then
it
depriv'd
o'
breath,
stil
feeblie begging that her life be

till
spar'd nor ceasi'g for a mome't
sense
was
lost
no
longer might wê looke upon this in silence; and bursting

like
fulmin'd lightning through the waiting crowde of the
86
BI-LITERAL
astonished courtiers and ladies, surrou'ding in a widening
angry Fury and her prey, wee bent a knee craving that wee might lif te up the tender bodie and bear it thence. A dread sile'ce that foretels a storm fell on the Queene for a space, as th' cruell light waxed brighter and th' cheeke
circle this
burnt as
th' flame.
As
the fire grew to blasti'g heat,
it fell
upon us
like the bolt of Jove.
Losing controU immediatelie
of both judgement and discretion, th' secrets of her heart
came hurtling forth, stunning and blasting the sense, till we wanted but a jot of swooning likewise. Iôt onely did wee believe ourselfe to be base, but also wêe beleeved the
angry reproaches of such kinde as never can bee cleared awaie, for she declar'd us to be the fruit of a union of the the secret and in sorte that is oft lustf ull and lascivious suppressing th' name of our father, she did in very truth
we speake. When, however, Ladie Anne Bacon, hearing th' tale which wee tolde, made free and full relation how this secret marriage with th' Earle, our fonde sire, whom we knew little and lov'd not more then was due, was consumated,
give us reaso' to f eare the blot of which
it
greatlie excited our imagination,
so that wê wrote
it
downe
in a varietie of formes,
and intende the

closelie to
use, both as
one part of her history relating

stage.
our owne, and as

bee acted on our
suited to representative historie that
may
The
preparatio' that
wel understood to be
secret as the grave
;
much
it
must naturallie be made, can bee greater, inasmuch as it must be

can yet bee accomplished,
if
but
time
be granted to carrie out our Cyphars as devis'd.

th'
Seeke, in
:
kind of
letters
now
us'd, for
one more secret storie after
disciph'ring the same, then look onely to the Italicke

printing.
F.
PLAIN-ETOMACHIA.
ROBERT GREENE.
With great and
labour, such as
1585.
patie't perseverance, unending, resolute
shew at eventide and at morne or finde lawrells, a cyphar none will have winne you the honour or th' favour to employ, asuredlie, for a short periode, this work is dutifully persued for our advancement. As all may know, in time, the reason why 'tis yet hidden history of our present time and a time not very far
you
shall also
if
fro' th' present,
doubt not, our
title to
England's throne
must soone bee known. Althoug' a life, no other then our mother's, removi'g our naturall claym yet another degre, must keepe us still
subject to the uncertaine duratio' as well as the fortune of
one other being beside our owne

sire,
self e,
we have
faith in our
who, whilst now hee loveth his peace, and quiet enjoieth' roiall
ment of
is
kindnese soe
ii^
much no
love of his offspring
manifest, hath
his naturall spirit that
which yet might

is,
leade to a matching of a roiall spouse 'gainst the princes,

that a ballance
may
be maintayned.
Hee
it
wil no
doubt bee remembered, the Lord Eobert Dudley, Earle of

Leister,
whom our historic so oft nameth. Hee who beareth

Baron of Denbigh, Master of th' th' Order of th' Garter,
doth see a lacke on the part of a
likewise the titles of
Queene's Majestie's Horse (s), of

tio'
her Highnesse' Privie Oouncilour, et caetera, in affec-
nor in honours no
way
woman, who, in ascending the English throne, did, like a common mayden of her realme, hide those secret counsells in her owne f aire bosome. Aye, few ghest that her suitour was her wedded lord. In truth, had not our f arre seeing sire exercised more then the degree that was his wont, or his privilege, of au87
88
BI-LITERAL
had rested contente with th' marriage ceremony performed in the Tower, and would not have, asked for regall, or even noble pompe with attendants and witnesses; nor would she have wished for more state, because being quite bent upon secrecy, she with no want of justice contended, ^^The fewer eyes to Avitnesse, the fewer tongues to testify to that which had beene done."
thoritie, Elizabeth
the daye
As hath beene said, Earle of Leicester then foresaw when he might require the power this might grant
th' first-
him, and no doubt this proved true, altho' we,
bome Sonne
therfrom,
of the secret union, have profited by no

since
meanes
we unfortunately
ill
incurred his great and
most rancourous
tiful!
will,
many
yeares backe.
As you no
to beau-
doubt are cognisant of our summarie banishment

us the gates of Paradise, you
France, which did intend our correction but oped to
know
that our sire,
more ev'n
then our roiall mother, was bent upon our dispatch thither,
and urg'd vehemently that subseque't, artfuUie contriv'd

business
concerning
affaires of state
intrusted to us in
much
th'
were laid French Court.
same manner, wê thought, as waighty affaires upon Sir Amyas, with whom they sent us to th'
strange Providence, this served well the pur;
By some
poses of our
owne heart
for,
making cyphares our
choyse,
we straightway proceeded
therein, to find a
to
spend our greatest labours
historic to others outside the realme.
methode of secret communication of our That, however, drew noe suspition upon this device, inasmuch as it did appeare quite naturall to one who was in companie and under the instruction of our ambassadour to the Court o' France and it seemed, on th' part of our parents, to afford peculiar relief, as shewing that our spirit and minde had calmed, as
;
the ocean after a tempest doth sinke into a sweete rest, nor
gives a signe of th' shippewracke belowe the gently roUi'g
surface.
IN
PLANETOMACHIA.
89
FoT such simple causes were we undisturb'd in a

search after a meanes of transmitting our secret history.
Eayli'g this
nowe
the
no doubt our discypherer doth know, we devised double alphabet Cyphar which with
as
ere
this
patience
may
be discovered, with another having within

to separate it into parts, that it
body the keies
may
be
joined by our lawe and come forth in that forme which

it
first
bore under our hand.

in the
as,
Thus shal we see our work arise, Judgement Day, the soules that death set free shall
first
rise
again in their celestiall bodies, such as they were
created, or as they existed in the thought of
God and
;
as the
glory of the terrestriall

celestiall, so
is
different
from
th' glorie of the
the beauties of the one shall not be as th' other.
It hath beene our practise,

th'
from
th' first
Cyphar
epistle to
present letter, to scatter th' history widely, having great
feare alwaies that our roiall mother may,
by some
ill-
chance, come upo' the matter, and our life bee the forfeit
ere half this labour bee ended.
the epistle, no eie save her
Should she laie hand upon owne would evermore read this interiour history. Where our Cyphar shiftes with suddennes, our decypherer needeth more patience.
FRA.
B.
A TKEATISE OF MELANCHOLY.
T.
1686.
BRIGHT.
of mouthpeeces for our voice,
Verily, to
is
make choyse
;
farre fro' being a light or pleasi'g, but quite necessarie
and important, missio' and it oft in truth swaloweth all we Iône receive from our writtings ere such cost be paid. must thinke, however, that this doth moove us to forego th' worke. Rather would a slowly approaching death bee
desir'd, or haste'd to
summo' us
quicklie, then that

out,
weaken in our great undertaki'g of writing
we now
in our
90
BI-LITERAL

transmitting,
secrete but playne
manner of
our
history, as
hath here bene sayd in our other Cyphar
also a
most full
and compleat
marriage,
storie of this so-styl'd
when prisonner
at
maiden queene, her the Tower at command o'
Queene Mary, and her prior mad love profess'd for Seymour, a man manie a yeare elder yet not greatly wiser then
th' willf uU princesse.
The
proove,
is
early piety, that manie credulou'
men
attempt to
most disproved by so unnecessary intemperance, wantonnesse, and over vehemence of affection, betrai'd towards a gentleman olde enough, if vertuoslie inclined, to guide a young princesse to piety, when in her co'fide'ce, for sundry thi'gs come with experience, rather the' give
her greefe, or future sorrow, never asswag'd on earth.
Friendshippe alone should binde a man's mind strongly,
and sin. He, by disownei'g the child, subjected the princely heart to ignominie, and compelled Elizabeth to murder this infant at the very first slight breath, least she bee openly sham'd in Court, inasmuch as King Edward was intollerant of otheres foibles, whilst partiall to his owne.
that he curbe well his inordinate concupiscence
This sad narrative
is
in the other Cyphar. It could not

It must be quickly scene, therecommingle manie stories in one
bee at once incorporated, because the parts should not bee

plact near to one another.
fore, it
was needfuU
to
booke.
E'one having beene finished at this* time, the faith-
full decypherer is
most solemnlie enjoin'd to follow th' one he can worke out at once, because it hath manifold instructions for
great use in a future
Cyphar writing, which should doubtlesse be of work of a sorte much unlike anything
hee hath yet scene.

It is undoubtedly possible so to write anything whatsoever, that
any who hath
sufficient witte, join'd
with as
his-
great a measure of patience,
may work
out
th'
hidden
*Second Ed., published same year.
IN
/
A TREATISE OF MELANCHOLY.
91
torie without other directions then he heerein

finde.
may
duly
have in our idole times amused and likewise well assured ourselfe of our inve'tion, of which wee most frequently speake, by ourselfe wôrking from our published
worke, that which formerly bore other names,
th'
We
some-
times weak yet not unwôrthy portio's translated from noble
Homer, his poemes, or great Yirgill's verse. By such maner of finding parts of the hidden stories, this contrivance
is
very constantlie in emploiement, and

prevision,
all
our future
discypherer's difiiculties, by
made
lesse, so that
he should not, in
backe.
th'
midst of his Avork, in wearinesse turne
In many workes
such
as the
poemes
posed to belong to Spenser and Greene
the
at present sup-
discypherer
wil see portions of a secret storie chieflie co'cerning

lovely Marguerite of IN'avarre,
our
Queene of that realme and Love of her had power to make the Duke of Guise forget the greatest honours that France might confer upon him and hath power as wel to make all such fleeting glory seeme to us like dreames or pictures, nor can wee
our heart.
;
name ought
reall that
hath not origin in her.
At one time
a secret jealousy was consta'tlie burning in our vains, for
Duke Henry then

given
-US
followed her day in and out, but she hath
proof of love that hath
now
sette
our hart at rest

O'
on
th' quaery.
FRANCIS, PRINCE
WALES.
EUPHUESMOEA^^DO.
ROBERT GREEJNE.
Happie
th'
1587.
man, who, wearing in humble
life a
crowne
such as the Jewes of former dayes platted for
th' Christ,
must win later the much priz'd golden rigoll which is worne by mortall men who are blest. Shut our eyes we cannot. A hand upon th' heart would not crush out the life, as doth
92
BI-LITERAL

win our proper crowne though
th'
feare that
we may
fail to
Queene be our *mother.

Dailie
we
see
cause of this co'stantlie increasing
dread, in the favour shewne to our brother rather than to

ourselfe, despite the prioritie of our
clayme to
all princelie
honour.
And
th'
frenzied eagernes hee doth bewray,
when
and vauntlinglie marked favours, give co'firmatio' strong as proofes o' Holie Writ of our wisedome, maketh us to inquire sadly of our owne hart
these shews
whether our brother returneth our

love
warm
affection.
The
we beare him is as fresh at this day, as it was in his when the relationship was for some time so carefully kept unknown as th' fact was, for yeares,
boyhoode,
guarded of our high birth and

enter'd th' brain, that
share.
it
station.
E'ot a thought then

to
was not a ple'sure for us both
in twaine
were thus two-fold, our sorrowes all cut pride of his heart having beene aroused, our eies can but note th' change, for hee seldom doth keep the former waies in remembrance. Even in his manner now, we thinke, one thought hath a voyce: ^'Without a brother like ours that hath come before us by sixe short
joies
;
Our
but
th'
yeares,
we
could rely whollie upon ourselfe, and, furtherth'
more, bee
heyre to England's throne."

;
]ôthing soe
open, so unmistakeable
but at times he maketh a great
shew, stranger to our heart then the colde ungracious
manner.
noe more when minde can furnish few thoughtes, wrought thro' pain, from mem'ries of th' past houres o' joy, Whe' th' heart hath suffer'd to comforte and console it.
this spirit of kindnes is felt this shall be lost
When
th'
change, and a breach beginneth to widen, noe wordes

up.
fill it
An altred affection, one weakly parteth

is suitable.
from, of neede,
for noe redresse

*Morando.
IN
MORANDO.
of the nneasiiiesse
is,
93
The
and clayme
chiefe cause
nowe
however,
the questio' that hath risen regarding these plots of
those of th' olde faith

to the throne,
Marj,
a question of Elizabethe's
and therefore, likewise, our owne. With everyone whose aime putteth him very seldom to blush, in heart, we desire onelie that this supreme right This doth more depende shall bee also supreme power. then this secret royale espousall Henries, work of some upon wee mention oft. Hence a wish that is not perhaps unworthie in us, under such peculiar circumstances surrounding not only ourself e but our brother, to write another history.
F. B.
PERIMEDESPA:NTD0ST0.
ROBERT GREENE.
1588.
Til other writings have bene finished, you cannot carry
out the wish
erer shall take
we doe so frequentlie utter, that the deciphup a grave taske that of writing againe a
historic that shal be as strange as one in a suspitious
drama
'Tis,
not claiming to be narrative save of a fayned storie.
however, true in everie circumstance
as true as truth.
Our
heart
is
;
almost bursting with our indignation, grief,
and sorrowe
and wee
feel
our penne quivering, as a steed

flies to
doth impatientlie stand awaiting an expected note of the
home o'
across
the hunt, ere darti'g, as an arrowe
the targe,
ing to
they
moor and glen. We write much in a feverous longlive among men of a future people. Here in the
is
Court, th' story

sit
but as
th' tale that

fire
in comfort
by the
'tis
the olde wives
tell as
tho' it
be tolde as truth,
seldome accredite'.
quently waived
;
It is ofttimes repeeted, yet is as freas dangerous sorte of speech as can
for
94
BI-LITERAL
come within th' compasse of faithful courtiers' intercourse. 'Twould show ill, if publisht so that all within reach might
know
ceal'd.
it,
besides costing our

is now Rex you must know
life,
altho' it is truth itself.
Manifestly the truth
da'gerous and should bee conto be our future title.

F.,
PR.
OF W.
SPANISH MASQUERADO.
Turn
befo'
EDITIONS
1589.
ROBERT GREENE.
to a
booke entituFd Alcida, a Metamorphosis,,

Troie,.
you decipher that most interesting Tale of
lately written to
make
a piece suited to our translatio' of th'
divine workes of Homer, Prince of Poetes, and also of
noble Virgin, co'ceal'd in cyphars.
Thinking
to be,
by a
waie of our devising, able to write the secret story so that it may in a time not f arre off acquaint many of our peoplewith our true name, we also do ask, (in
bee used to take th' Cyphre out.
al of
our work we
printed,
publish under names that be almost trite) that every arte
Works
o'
Homer,
cannot go to oblivion
those rich
and
if
our caref ull planne preserve
gemmes,
it
shal build our
owne moniment of
that
which
tlie
shall outlast all els,
reflect the glorie, that
must
and make our name

as long as
at least
our changing, subaf arre.

FR.,
altering mother-tongue endure
be seene
PRINCE.
Another edition of above printed same year.
Turn
befo'
to a
booke entitul'd Alcida, a Metamorphosis,,
you decipher that milde Tale o' Troy, that may, truth nam'd a cistur', because severall riven rockes verses of Homer of unmatch'd yet give sacred dewe therto
to say, well be
beautie
of th' prince, soe nam'd, of those that
it
pleas'd
to-
IN SPANISH
write in Latine, Virgill
;
MASQUERADO.
;
95
Petrarck in a fine line or Ennius,
braving daily surly critike but miraculouslie kept soe free

as to strike all
with dismaie.
Our one hope
of leaving our
soe-
cipha' historie in like surrou'dinges, you,
by marking
cal'd joining or combining keies, doe as easily
unmask
of our
do inve't a meanes to hide.
The furtherance
we much
as
cherrish'd plan, keepeth us heartened for our work,
making
con-
hope, or wish even of immediate recognizance, of

a farre off age thorow our invention.
little
sequence beside such possible renowne as might bee ours in
When
first
our
wo'drous Ciphar, surging up in the minde, ingu'ft our

nightly thought, th'
mind
far out-ran al posi
(Incomplete
joins with
some other work not yet deciphered.)
FRANCIS BACON'S
BI-LITERAL CIPHER
PART
II.
{Reprint^ Second Edition.
THE DECIPHERED SECRET STORY.

i^go
to i6^^,
CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED.
*A
Complaints.
Qontainwg fundne
fmall
Toemes of the Worlds Vanitie.
FFhereofthe next Page

mal^th mention.
By Ed.
Sp.
L O H D O N. Imprinted iox yFilIia.91

Pcnfonbiey dv'clling in Paules
Churchyard at
tlie
fignc
of
the 'Btpjops head.
A note of the fundric Poemcs contained

in this Volume.
/
The 7(Hms of Time\ The Ttares of the tJ^nfes.

Trofipopoiaôt
S VirgiU Gnat,,
toother H/ibberJsTale^ 5 The RmnesofRome : by BelUy. 6 tyûiopotmoSyOt The Tale of the^Htterflic. 7 Vifioni of the Worlds vanme.
'Bellayes vijions.
Tetrarchesvifions,
EDMU:^[D SPENSEE.
COMPLAINTS.
1590
AND
1591.
As
feares for life are powerfull motives for the adoptio'
of secret methodes of inscribing such portions of history

as the sovereign chooseth to
have shut within the memory,

if
you may not think strange

epistle,
you discover here a Ciphe'
but
we
earnestly beseech and
humbly pray you
to
be the guard to our secret as to your owne.
In truth our
life is
now put
in real deadly dange'

o'
from
her that hath our ^destiny as in the hoUowe

palme.
her smal
Her
selfe-love
*more then our good fame dom-
inates in her
whole heart, being powerfull to ôreballance

^Betray not our dear hope, for soe seeme made up of nought
signe.
else,
sweete mothe' love.
much
bee
doth our
life
if it
lost
wee dye and make no
A
when
open
man
doth slowly eat his very inmost soule and hart,
there shall cease to bee a friend to

his inner thought,
little
whom
and
it is
he
may
knowledge, or
life,
to you,
by means
ing, that
knowne and lesse suspected at present writwe now addresse an epistle. But if you bee as
lost, as
blinde to this as others, this labour's

in th' play
much
it
as love's
we have staged of Our name is Fr. Bacon, by

Being of blood
*late.
adoption, yet
(for the
shall
be
dif-
ferent.
roial,
Queene, our
sov'-
raigne,
who maried by
a private rite the Earle Leicester
and
at a subsequent time, also, as to
make
*surer thereby,
etc.
*V|sions of the World's Vanitie. Visions of Petrarch.
*Visions of Bellay.
*Epistle Dedicatory, *Tears of the Musea
Ruine
of Time.
BI-LITERAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON.

i'
without pompe but

witnesses,
th'
presence
o' a
suitable
number
of
bound
herself e
by those hymeneall bands againe

be Francis First, in
is
our mother, and wee were not base-born or base begot)

stile shall
all
we be Tudor, and our

Early in our
as othe,
life,
proper cours of time, th'- king of our realme.
wee greatly
binding made by our doubt was

othe
or threat as
if this
in effect
wilful parent
concerning ^succession, and be not in time withdrawn,

shall
cannot bee changed, or

th'
wee know not how

then
kingdome
it
be obtain'd.
But
'tis
thus seene or shewn that

is
can
bee noe other's by true
desce't,
set
down.
To
Francis First doth th' crowne, th' honor of our land belong.
Some have won

Xavarre.
this right
take, in example, th'
Yet, not
Of such first Tudor; or, at our day, Henry of being of a martiall temper, we bee
by force
in battaile.
slightlie
naturally averse,
and
impatie't
of
fighting
to
^secure a place which by Divine right pertaineth unto the

first-borne of a soveraigne.
If
you note
th' saltnesse of this relation, let it

it if
not great-
lie surprise
you: rather marvell at
you
see
no worse
things, for
we
are
somewhat
bitter in spirit oft-times as
other
men would
be.
It killes joyes blossomes
on seing by one's side glide

tiring
all
feares;
and some by
struggles,
ene the might of

t'
noblest and th' most daring of soldiers, strive
get an
advantage
of
*their
besetting
foes.
But wee choose
another waye, and a different course.
ruler, especially
a ruler of so mightie a kingdome as this, having power in

a
wondrous degree, sho'ld winne
like fame.
It is this
wee
seeke.
F. B.
*Virgirs Gnat.
*Pro.sopopoia.
*Ruines of Rome.
IP
COLIN CLOVTS
m Come nome againe.

Sjl
Ed. Skewer,
^''
LONDON
Viintcd iotFyillMW tonfirAie.
I S
5'-
TO THE RIGHT
\;vorthy and noble Knight
Sir
Walter Raleigh ^ CaptaineofherMaiefties Guard, Lord Wardeinofthe Stanncries, and Lieutenant of the Countie of
Cornwall.
CO
/ iJ, that you
may fee thatlamnotal waiesydle as yee thinke^ thou^ not

,
greatly well occupied
nor altogithet
fully though not frecifely vndutt

ficiousy
of
Imakeyou frefent of this fm^ pie paBorally 'vnworthie ofyour higher conceiptforthemeanejfe of thefile hut agreeing with the truth in circumstance and matter. The which 1 humbly hefeech you to accept in part
ofpaiment of the infinite debt in which 1 acknowledge my felfehounden vnto yoUy for your fngular ftuours andfundrie good turnes shewed to me at my late being
in Bnglandy
and with your good countenance protect a-
gainst the malice
of euill mouthes , which are alwaies wide opento carpeatandmifconliruemyfimple meaning.
TheEpiftleDedicatorie*
1 prayconfinmlly for your

I
hnppinejfe.
.
Fromny
houfe
the 2 7 cfDecember^ iff Kilcolman,

J
I.
Yours cuer humbly.
IN COLIN CLOUT.
COLIN CLOUT.
1595.
As
in th'
rest,
all eies
have glanc'd but lightly on such a Cyphar

this
former poems put out in

is
name, our fear may
for surely no eye

anie.
bente suspiciouslie or with inquiry
upon
Often was worke, when in danger of too

note, divided,
strict or careful
and but a part given foorth
at a time, e. g.
some
latelie set forth in th'
in this, a
few yeares
ago.
name of Greene and Peele, or Marlow is also a pen name

masque or
as
emploi'd ere taking

vizard, that
Wm.
Shakespeare's, as our
wee should remayne unknowne, inasmuch

worked in
drama,
history
wee,
having
that
is
most
vig'rously supprest, have put ourself e so greatly in dange'
that a
word unto Queene Elizabeth, without doubt, would
give us a sodaine horriblle end

trance
an
exit without re-enthis,
^for
in truth she
is
authour and preserve' of

call'd
our being.
sov'raigne,
We, by men
D.
Bacon, are sonne of the

confined
i'
Queene Elizabeth, who whe'
th'
tow'r, married Ro.
FR. B.
BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON.
FAERIE QUEENE.
1596.
E. Sp. could not otherwise so easilie atchieve honours

that pertyne to ourselfe.
his head, if this
Indeed
this
would alone crowne
were
all
but of lawrell
I speake not of golden crowne,

is
for our
pen
dipt deepe into th' Muses'
pure source.
Although
appeared,
to
conceale
in
these
Cyphe',
th'
works thus
we were
good hope that whe' our divers small

th' approvall o'
poemes might bee seene in printed forme,
Lord Leicester might be gain'd: hee,

found in
earlier decyphering,
as doubtlesse
you
being our owne father, and
in a waie, having matters in his hands regarding the recognition,
and
th'
remuneratio'
Her Ma.
should
offer, suit-
ably rewarding soe great labours.
Th' wish to shew our
God-given powers and gifts of song warr'd with th' resolve
made
ried
in heat of
young bloud
soule,
aide.
alreadie familiar as a
as it
vow
car-
from your own

on
thro'
inasmuch
can onely bee
your
The hidden
if
letter taketh
man back
to a
time in Elizanight blacker,
beth's raigne, cloaked, as
might bee
said, in a
that be possible, then Night, or Êgyptian, Stygian or
anie blacknesse
knowne
of
so
to anie times or peoples.

not,
Fewe women
single,
any countrey, royall or
married or
would play
as
madly
,
dari'g, so wildly
venturing a
game,
Queene
our willfuly blind mother,

th'
who
hath for
Leicester.
many
long yeares been wedded to
Earle of
king's daughter gave a worthie president to
all states, in
that shoe
would wed
as
her wishes dictated,
not thro' negotiation and by treaty.

ent appear to be forgotten since
But
it
would
at pres-
we hoped
to
winne youth-
IN FAERIE QUEBNE.
full love's first
blossome for
life's girlo'd
but were refus'd,
and helde
to
customarie observances as firmlie as anie cereIt

at
monial court migbt require.

failure
was upon
this grievous
(much more grievous
that blacker houre of

earliest
mourning for our kind father of our

if
remembrance,
not our sire in th' naturall
way
of bloud) a great attract
wonne more on our minde

divine gift,
that were
sion;
our
true right,
our
kingdome more
from
true, lawful!,
plain statements
yet
made concerning our true hope of the succesHer Ma. though given to rashnesse, seldome
i'
speaketb out of her hart in presence-hal, or whylst
th'
councell, having a desire of showi'g foorth the royal tem-
per of her
sire rather
then a woman, her

th'
spirit.
All this work'd with some power in

historick
yong
heart.
One
drama afterward, gave

are in hope
th' first full history therein,
but
it is
in a Word-Cypher, that doubtful

is
as
our aventure
seem'd,
we
mastered.
Th' Cipher playes are

write,
a good ensample of th' dramas
we now
and
tho'
it
be
not secret, the history of
King Edward
First
and King
th'
Edward Second
letters
will not appeare in our
name,
Cypher
being contained in these, but Edouard Third was
us'd for proof e of th'
Cypher we
give.
Th' keies
may
bee
found soone, and wee will now shew an argument of the

play for ayd to a correcte writing.
You
will thus observe that in plays, onlie scenes
which
hold the eye are of use.

th' seizure of
We
commence, therefore, with

rul'd with the ayd, so
Roger Mortimer who

Queene-mother.
cald,
of th'
Edouard was leader of a
choyce number, bardie and bold in temper, so that when
he demanded that he should be declared king, Parliament
promptly issued the proclamation making him
ruler.
No
sooner was hee well establisht in England in great
BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON.
power, then he straightwaie claim'd the crowne of riche
France since he was sonne

late
t'
the sister of
th'
King
Philip, th'
in
sov'raigne,
whereupon
councel
make answer
strong deni'l of such right, as by the Sa[l]ike lawe th'
throne
is neither held nor can be transmitted thro' a woman. The warres which folow'd were long and cruell. At Crecie Prince Edward, named the Black Prince, could by
noe means be restrained

charge of
fro' battaile.
He
was then giv'n

so
th' troops at their right,
which he array'd
that th' men-att-armes,
who being more
sturdy of build,
stood fastest in line; then with English weapon'd archers
he formed a mighty hearse and comanded

firme, nor advance.
all to
remaine
Seeing
th'
knights rushing tumult-
uously to battaile, his eager
men
chafed and faine had
dis-
obey'd their orders but the Prince bade his train'd warriours
stone's
stand firme and await their foes.
When
but a
stride
throwe distante they were allow'd a single

cool,
forward; their aime, being so
was sure
o'
as th' shafts of
Death.
sheepe.
France saw her bravest

he
souldiers slaine like
Warwicke, and
in th'
also
th' troopes
led,
folowed the example

his left wing,
maine body; and Oxford, commanding
kept his eager troopes in checke after the same manIt
ner.
was the good fortune of the Prince to

th'
slaie
by
his
owne hand
king of Bohemia, aydant
o'
the French.
"Wearinesse seem'd far from his limbs and his corage

flagg'd not, but seeing
him rushing
Edward's
"hath
sire
into the conflicte, a
messenger went
t'
find
beseeching aide.
"But," asked the
sire,
my
sonne fallen?"
^ô, Your Ma."
"mr
woimded?"
"Iôe, unhurt.
Your Ma."
IN FAERIE QUEENE.
"A
prisoner?'-'
"Free, Yo'
Ma."
"Say yee he needeth ayde?

glory to-day.
My
lion's
whelp
shall
win
This
it
is
mighty
vict'ry
none may share."

it
victory
was. but hardly wonne, and
did not end
our troulDles in that land

also Callice.
afterwards
there was Poictiers,
Then was
th'
black death sent upon the peo-
ple
from
farre-of
Cathay and the dead were numberlesse.
All Europe by that dread scorge felt th' heavy hand of
God.
By th'
black death was Laura snatcht from th' poete.

its
Divine sorrow gave his pen
theme.
England was almost

o'
depriv'd of labourers, for the plague was heavie
those
whom
In
noe
coarsenesse of
comon food
ingrOsed, yet those
who
have
were fed with fare
o' th'
king perish'd likewise.
th' third division, since (i) it
was necesary
to
lesse
then these in order
t'
represent his long raigne,

in th' south.
you
see th'
waning fortunes of Prince Edward
Losse of faire Limoges not long afte' th' putting of th'

worthlesse king of Spayne on the trembling throne of that
countrey by th' aide of their soe c
FAERIE QUEENE. SECOND PART, JOINS.

1596.
[c] ailed free
companies
Pedro
it
of surname, th' cruell

it
unth'
favourably looked upon as
was,
in noe
waye daunted
However,
him, our conquering prince, nor restrai'd him.
hee had but half enjoyed this triumph of his troopes in

South, before th' Bastard unseated Pedro and
seeke shelter in France.
lesse courageous, I
made him
Following slowly, Edward, no
[ay] more gallant even, found
many
life,
thinges captivating to th' hero.

his spoiles
In such a mode of
were quickly expended.
Th' sweating hast of

long marches, compleatly exhausting the
th'
men and
dim-
inishing the eagernesse to goe into battaile, th' seductive
and
as
thoroughly enervating revells that the souldiers follow'd

eagerlie as they
sarie to
had pursu'd the
foe,
nowe made
it
neces-
go home to bring ove' his
forces,
and alreadie he
began
to bee
aware that his returne wou'd lacke much of
the interesse and excitement that attended

occasio'.
him on
former
Also hee knew that his honour wo'ld bee far
lesse, his entrie lesse glorious
and triumphant then when
th'
King
It
of Fra'ce rode as a prisonner beside him.
might then, we sho'ld have sayd, bee
readilie seene
that hee stood high in all the people's harts.
London
seemed
to stryve to outshine ev'n herselfe, soe that they
spar'd neither pains nor

glory.
money
to
adde to the honour or his
On
this occasion lesse glory
comon Are we
for
hindes,
and
th' bonfires
was given him by th' which they love best were

^'Ts
soe few, hee, himself e, inquired
there no
more f ewel ?
povertie strucken?"
spirit
After soe milde a wellcome, his
yearn'd greatly
more
conquests, yet hee fell quicklie into the Syren's
snares of pleasure, like his sire, that was for long in stro'g
bondes, not becoming or kinglie.
Many
courtiers eagerly
imitating a well honour'd king in his vices, our good olde
England
soe well renown'd thro' Europe,
and ev'n unto
Jewrie for sobriety, nowe began to bee knowne for her
mirth and gaiety. After

th' decease of the
vertuous Phillipa,
greatly in the power of one of a great
Edward was number of ladies
which surrou'ded
of "Th'
all this traine,
even as the gay
women
name
no
it is
els'where thro'g round courtiers.
He
I
had given
th'
Lady
of the
Sun"
to the fayre being,
and
doubt quight a prope'
style, being,
am
assured, every
IN FAERIE QUEENE.
wave
fitting;
for fewe
on earth have
so dazling beauty,
verilie, like to that lovelinesse of Circe, faire
daughter of
Phoebus.
Her triumphs Were
compleat, as
it
may
well be
conceyv'd, whilst Edward's supreame sovereignty lasted,
but after awhile she drank the sweetnese from her full
glasse
and found
its
dregs as bitter as wormewoode.
Wise
Solomon would have foretold

had but read
it,
"^
this sodain downefal, if she
it
in th'
Book
of
Wisdom.
You
m^ seeke
But I
if it
be doubtf uU to yourself e.
Blind fate could not bee
a sterner, or in truth, soe sterne an executioner.
do digresse.
After these portions have their great contrasts most

clearlie set out, I
shew
th'
death of this hero, yet not too

is,
fully.
That of the King
however, omited,
my
wish
being to fixe men's mindes rather upon the doughtinesse

that he exhibited, his other qualities of a true and wise
man
wear
of th' olde times, whe' to bee king compelled
him
to
armoure, and leade into a

of valew,
sions.
life,
battell,
kingdome, people,
aventuring retayne
to
last into
everiethi'g
his posses-
To mine owne
right
th'
is
selfe this
waye
by
of maintaining the Divine
repugna't, and
when
shall
I come at
my
as
right,
power of the minde
my
may
wisdome
may
is
be
said
by
th' writer of
Cypher workes that

se
possiblie
be conin
ceal'd so well that noe other eie

his coneeipt
how
wise he
bee shewne
to be greatly exceeding that of

is
the sinewy right arme.
This
my
hope in labour,
oft as
hard and as fatigui'g as falleth to him that hath alwaies

toyl'd for his bread, as
'tis
by such meanes that kingly
mindes should bee
disciplin'd.
all
Th' fears that fiU'd and harrassed
my
minde, when
with a strong motive for secrecy soe well knowne to
my
dis-
10
ciph'rei'j this
Cypher was
i'vented,
have become farre more

to
constant, for I can observe
manie things which pointe
great watchfulnes
o'
th' part of those
whom my
mother,
thorow that spye

everie interest
Cecill,
hath beene induced to
set to
minde
and employ nie't that I have.

is
This writing
doth attracte attention, yet

penne, therefore I
not
known
to
come
fro'
my
still
may
freely open
my
soule herein and
give to posterity this sad story of
my
misfortunes and
cherish this hope that a time shall

prevayl.
come when Your humble servant,
right shall
FRA'C. BACON.
SHAKESPEARE QUARTO.
RICHARD SECOND.
1598.
By
having Arte for a guidi'g word,
it
must be only
hath
bin
to
quicke sight could see where

directed.
my
discipherer
as
Other men, indeed, or such
were indue' d
take
my
works wil winne
his attention
is
by word
or signe
known
to the f aithfull
man who
to bring this history to

off,
that vast world which lieth dreamlesse far, far
as a
said.
thing apart.
These are as Greene, his worke, hath
First all those great yet
lame
lines,
none having sight of

guide.
think to contayn anie Cyphe', and the epickes of Faerie
Queene,
Peele's,
rieth.
Honour;
guide
is
Marlowe's
fine
Reputation;
car-
Kature; Melanc'olie, Truth; Greene, Fortune
My
Time,
as all that I do, tho' great, sus-
taineth such change of forme as

little hatli at this w^riting
Time maketh
as
desired, and
come forth
Time's other then
little prose,
for great secrets will surelie have to guard
all
doores
t'
avoid surprises and capture.
Men
call
me Bacon
but I
am
the Queene's future heyre.

F.
IN DAVID
AND BETHSABE.
11
GEOEGE PEELE.
DAVID AND BETHSABE.
1599.
You looke thprowe

Cypher
would
of use to
all.
our worke and finde but part of noted
Axes and every kinde

th'
of
weapon
fall
with swifte justice on
head of
th'
adventurous
man
that should openlie inserte such historic here.

so
Her
Ma. should by
mad
daring,
dubbe me,
to th' courageous
men
of our broad land, as a

it
Sonne of
Follie.
You, I know,
so oft over-
muse on
lookt
wond'ri'g at a tale soe hidden
when
by
my many
inquiring or inquisitive enimies; but

told.
none hath yet found the secret herein

everything grav' attentio'
found.
if
You must
give
any other famed Cyphars be
'None must hold the opinion that our history
may
be giv'n with speedy pen, since there be
much
of a secret
nature closelie conjoyn'd, and in puting foorth our Cyphe',
must nere be passed by.

Although not our
life, it
can at once, wee do assure you,
be cleerly shewne, noe chapter
may
wel be
lefte,
as all sep-
twinetli closelie, bindi'g such firme bands
noe one
may
arate them.
The
must
story that
we
related o' th' life that
we
led at the Court at
Fr
(pages missing)
.... but
all
first
bee found in our workes.
Confessions do somewh't discompose anie that doe think
our work but a pastime.

labor.
It is quite well
worth our weary

FRA'CIS
B.
12
SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS.
MIDSOMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. ROBERTS EDITION 1600.
That unfinish'd work may furder occupy your time and until one play have beene wel deciphered let noe othe' have
attention for the storie, oft in disjoined
and broken work,
will give ayd.
Read
spy on
of a
man
of our realm that at morn, or eve, plai's
my
everie act under great secrecy, and gave

to
me
manie a cause in m' youth

beneficent.
make
life in
o'
Eraunce most
greatest sor-
Of
his great hatre',
one
my
rowes grewe, and

close, that at that
my
hasty banishme't following quite

th'
time seem'd maddening, but as in
most commone of our youthful experiences, became the

chiefe delight.
story of bane
forth.
In plays that I wrote about that time, the

blessings, of joies
and
and
greefes, are
wel
set
Indeede, some might say

fire,
my passion the'
i'
youthly
but
th' hate that
raged
had much mee then was not

burning
i'
so fierie, in truth, as th' fierce hate so continualy

th' breast
and of te unwiselie betraid by
th' overt acts of the
man
o'
In
whom I have writ many things. my hart, too, love so soone ore-threw
o'
envie as wel as
other evil passions, after I
found lonelie Margaret, the
Queene
Iâvarre,
who
willingly fram'd excuses to keepe

suitors, ever at
me, with other right royall
her imperiall
commandeme't.
earth was
favour,
to save
i'
A wonderful pow'r to create heav'n upon

To winne
a shewe
o'
that lov'd eye.
her fond
we were
f aine to adventer even our honor, or fame,

her.
and shield
five other plays,
filled
Thorow love I dreamed out these up as we have seen warp in some
MIDSOMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.

hand-loome, so as to bee
13
made
a beautious color'd
ofte, like to a
webb
with words Marguerite bath soe
busy hand,
shot dailie into a fayre-hued web,
and made
a riche-hued
damask, vastlie more

interiour
dear; and should life bewwraie [an]
room
in
my
calme but aching

seene.
brest,
on everie
hand
shal her
work be
F.
BACON.
MIDSOMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.

FISHER EDITION
It
is
1600.
noe matter
if,
on discyph'ring one of
my
Cipher
playes, part of
which may be already taken forth, something

matter come from hiding.
o'
shal lacke.
Th' play must of necessity bee an unfinished
worke
untill its entire
This no one can doubt, without manifest lacke
judge-
ment,
th'
is
yet f arre
offe.
'Tis th' labour of yeares to provide

th' lines of verse
widely varied prose in which
have a
faire haven,
and lye anchored

:
untill a
!
day when
th'
coming
pow'r
kisse
may say
!"
"Hoist sayle, away for the windes of heav'n

th' tide is a-floode.
your fairy streamers, and
On
to
thy destiny
You would
plays close
do well to keepe these numerous, ornate

th' disguyse in
by
many
cases, of
more
seri'us
history then I plac'd in writings noted as works
on grave
on inno-
and most important matters.
As noe
eie is turn'd
cente seeming plays of any kinde, the well hidd'n history
may
long be safe
too safe to
work me good or
it
ill
in
my
lifetime I
now
beleve, yet I have a faith that
will some-
time be marked and decipher'd, whilst no

present being a possibility, terror
is
reall
asurance at
in
my
it
nightly dre'mes
ene as
it is
in
many
daye-visiones least
should bee while

or
my
selfish,
vaine, unnaturall
and selfe-wilFd
kingly
14
mer[e]
who
nere lov'd a sonne, although that Heaven

as a
gave her these twoo, Essex and myselfe, halfe so well

parent should
can doe me more harme.

and
am
on
Francis,
saf'tie
unacknoweleged prince, who was,
at a time
love,
when
made
it
prudent, giv'n to kinder care
th' side o^
mv
adoptif mere, then a parent's.

F. B.
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

1600.
Some kinds
shew of
in the
of
little
imprints were invented, as former
my
timelie suggestion here, would, I dare to be
sworne, cause some sharpe-eyed foe to seek
my
lost
name
Pru-
name used
as
my
list
one true instructor dictateth.
dence hath as good counsels in times of danger as sadder

Experience, and I
onely to her voyce,
when
my
life
would, none can doubt, be a spedy,

For, old as
ay' insta't forfeit.

is,
my
mere, Elizabeth, England's Queene,
none can make
th' proud, selfish,
hating parent, though
bound to name him who should

shew what most might prove
Heaven-given,
in time succe'd to th' throne,
my just,
lawful, or, if th'
word
bee a proper one in such a place, a divine,
as
by a right
heyr-shippe, having bin borne, as manie
times you have f oimd tolde elsewhere, child to th' Queene.
Xo man
dull, sloAv
hath claime to such pow'r as some shal se in

th' decease of
mighty England, after
Virgin Queene E. by
mortalls farre or near, loved,
wooed
like
is
some
both
gen'rously affected youth-loving mayden, whylst she
wife to th' noble lord that was so sodainely cut

full tide
th'
off in his
and vigour of
life,
and mothe'
in such
way
as
women
of the world have groaninglie bro't
mankinde
foorth,
and must whilst Mature doth raigne
of two noble
SIR
JOHN OLD-CASTLE AND MERCHANT OF VENICE.
15
sonnes, Earle of Essex, train' d
up by Devereux [and] he
sonne to two wel fam'd
who doth speake

'and counselor,
to yon, th' foster
frie'ds o' th' Que., Sir Nichola'
Bacon, her wo'thie adviser

dutie,
and that partne' of loving labor or
my
most loved Lady Anne Bacon

truly not to
none needeth
soe mentio',
my
new, true, bold fr'end, that far from mee

both of duration as well
through
th' spaces o' th' universe,
as distance, wil take forth the secret history.

F.
SIR
JOHN OLD-CASTLE
ROBERTS
th'
AND MERCHANT OF VENICE.

J.
ED.
1600.
See or read.
earliest devices
In
stage-plaies, two, the oldest or
prove these twentie plays to have bin put

is
upon our
stage
'tis
by the actor that
suppos'd to
sell
dramas of
value, yet
rightlie
mine owne labor.
Withal after I did

doubt the quick
;
dilatate with carefull arte th' plan, I did not
decipherer would from
it trie
other devices also
yet as too
markt care might place a worke in more

saith as clearly to a
perill,
indeede
of eke
babe
'Ît is
secret work, see!" as [to]
deciph'rers,
th'
even may
th' rule
it.
evade inquiry
now
sharpe eyes bending upon
Law,
it is
a f aire code,
was
trite
and
is
nowise so plact when

his declaratio's,
written as was jesting

trees, to
John Premier,
upon
bee th' target of idle archers.
It
was with
as
bare-faced audacitie, I doubt not, habituallie assailed as
might have bin wel
fortho't.
it
Eare were a
[is]
sight, indeed,
when men,
Avho ever hold
man's very need of
lighter workes
and enter taynme't bri'geth back bard, sweete
16

criticks
poetes
neAêr
shal
spare,
crown'd with blig'ted
wre'ths of baye, saying that noe authour with an interesse

in rude humanity,
as 1
who
serving
God
hateth wro'g, wil write
have
i'
both prose and poetry of crime, or aught thai

not of
th' jesting fooles saye or sing, I kno'
pangs or the joy

kepte
I
o' love,
may see any

stage.
o' their
whom, owne
or th'
so
wel
evills acted
upon our
am
base,
if,
in sight
o' th'
God
both
Jew and
Chret'en
revere,
[ay]
who
av/ed th' gods of other lands,
not
th'
lawe, but evil, governed
my
mother, Elizabeth, as shee
join'd herselfe in a union with Eobert
Dudley whilst
oath sworne to one as belov'd yet bound him.
I have bene
told hee aided in th' removall of this obstructio',
when,
turni'g on that narrowe treach'rous step, as

lightly leaned
is
naturall, shee
upon
th' raile, fell
on
th' bricks
th'
paving
of a court
as
his
'tis
and
still
is
so died.
'Tis I greatly fear, as true, ev'n,
misterious,
and
left a foul blot that is cli'ging yet to
name,
keeping of his
this universe.
closelie
done
ill,
a thou't f arre-
reaching as
This shal
all
be scene on the stage, and a play shal

not keepe, because I
tel a
tale pride shall
am
justlie, or
by
th'
lawe, th' Pr.
o'
Wales, *royall and soe honour'd, grac'd with
senses most sharpelie struck or

lie
mov'dby the meteor

ma' vail' d
at,
of world-
grandeur.
This
is little
to be
for th' sensi-
bilities ofte
cause our fancies, and are like an instrume't in
the musicia's skilful fingers.

If noe cadent teares
come
to
my
decyph'rer, I thinke
'tis
it
stranger then hardnesse in others, as
his part
t'
take the
'tis
hidden secret
fro' this outer false cov'ring

it
with which
disguised, give
to a posterity that is distant,
and neither
will seeke for, or bee at all cognizante of th' same, without
*Merchant of Venice.
SIR
JOHN OLD-CASTLE AND MERCHANT OF VENICE.

with patience put
it
17
th' aide of a friend that shall
forth.
If
this [be] cleared, fann'd,
and
clarified, that all
unworthy
thi'gs
be removed as dregs from wort, as bad orts from grain

is
or as lees fro' wine, doing this, hee
but part of myself e
doth
know
interiour workings of the minde, as he doth

is
understand or
consciou' of those of his
own minde.
all
is
In truth a man's thorough opening thus to a fr'end

that his braine co'ceiveth, or th' soule
oft save his reason.
conscious of, will
He will
eat his heart in lonelie musi'gs,
for oft a feav'rous fire burneth in him, as worldes visions

shifting
and looming with wondrous swiftnesse on
th' view,
wooe
is
th'
minde from its labours to a

broken to
pieces, or soone
restless tosse, as a shippe
beaten by mercilesse windes, or like to egg-shells crush'd
togethe',
made wrack.
is
This cannot be otherwise, with one knowing that he

heire-apparent to this
kingdome, outraged, wrong'd,
dis-
honoured by one whose maternall love was not of so great

strength as a desire for pow'r.
In such a sonne,
th' wisest
our age thus farr hath she wen,

a phrase, I
pardon, prithee, so u'seemly
must speake
it
heere,
th'
mother should
lose
selfish vanitie
and be actuated only by a desire for
his
advancement.
With
in regall
Elizabeth
it is
not markt.
duties,
A sonne can nere share

gay mere's hon-
and governeing
but Essex at one time grew
verie arrogant havi'g for a f aire season our
ourable and sustayning favour and the aydant interesse of
our pere.
At
that time I
knew
my owne
claime to favour must,
yeelded publikely, bee as truly yielded up afterwards.
make a boast in speaking so, yet, Robt.

(Joins with some other
shall c
work not yet deciphered.)
18
RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK.

1600.
(Some work precedes this, not yet deciphered.)

*
#
-jf
jgj-^
none.
They
consider that, our stage,

half light
at th^
of no suitable furniture
[the] rivall of palmie
no way bettered by
or proud
G [r]eece
Rome when
pinacle of glorie.
Mine had
for a period lesse honour, as
you without any doubt know quite wel
in truth, not
on
accompte of the season or such well known or feigned

sons.
rea-
You
name
should assuredly also find
al these, an' so th'
true
these plays must, at some remote epoch of th'
worldes great history, wear, when,
my
first
Cypher
letter
having bene made an
epistle of wishes
my
faithefull fr'end
must fulfil,
yeeres.
they have bene published

is
as the fruict of
many
But, at this writing, saf'ty
as
much
enda'ger'd by
accompting on such Cipher disguising,

as a surly curre
as at anie past daye,
keepeth on with espionage or questiongs, to
give us
mad thoughts o' revenge, making it as difficile as may
be thought, to escape his eyes.

It
must send Mr. Robert Cecil on one errand with many

but
a sorrie, idle, and fruictles day to report to an instigator,
wily as he, and fully as
slie,
it
must preclude the

thro'
possible
sev'rall
renowne I might some dale enjoy

playes^;-as I
these
manie times ere now have made
cleere
if,
in time, a future fr'end, through most improbable but yet
equally
desired
seeking, as
my
discyph'rere, into
many
subtily co'triv'd devices, cary not to completio'
mine owne
incite this
good work.
'venturer.
For
Rare
to
is
decypher plays will
much
such royall apparell upon so strange
RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK.

inner
storie, liid like a
19
crime.
ill.
Ay,
so are
Cipher histories relationes of

doth command
Penne, or
many of the man his arte,
visions of th' dread,
infamous actes dreamt of
by
fiends, yet niark, all this,
amidst so truely brutall hor-
rores,
hath
little
that horrifies.
Soe maskt, shut uppe, hid-
den,
doth
much dread evill. Of truth the nearnes at present now oppres liartes noe-wise affected, but it doth requite
is
labour since
'tis
soe true.
Th' tardie epistle shal turne over an unknowns leaf of

the historic of our land. Presto, mark w^hat words this strange
epistle thrust out.
Th' booke herein hidd'n hath
th'
names
t'
in middest o' the other parts o' those writers suppos'd
pro-
duce
th' plaies
here mention'd.
having come from but a

herein, or amidst
si'gle braine, that o'
None in fact were so created, him not long
shewne
th'
as such.
men that dar'd state an unpopular thing, Her Majesty surely put great weight upon
These made so great hate in our
fed a most unwomanly notion
vain and empty theories of th' seeres she most wîsh'd to
have cast her horoscope.

hearts agay'st th'
men who
renowne
thoughts.
fathe',
as
Maiden Queene
as to
make us
more
f eare our
owne
Knowing
well her hatred of th' desire
o'
my
by one other
sin,
which
tho'
dire indeed then
others,
work'd to give
me
th' presidence
mine
in right,
it i'
made
to bee cognisant of his duty, I
have plac'd
Cyphre.
F.
B.
FRAx\TCIS BACO]^.
A DECLARATION OF THE TREASONS ATTEMPTED AND COMMITTED BY THE EARL OF ESSEX.

1601.
I write mildly of so terrible events, so galli'g memories

of fifteene such woful, ay, such dre'dfull daies,
i'
'tis
limn'd
iire
on gloom of
th'
night or daye, Essex, thy murther.
To
sharper
clamours, stifled cries or piteous moans are

eares heare Robert's voyce, soe entreati'gly,
all
added, and
my
opening sealed dores, hau'ting

daie that doth
dreemes, greeting everie
dawne on our home.

enf an's of a queene no wilful rebelion
As wee, wrong'd
must
raise (up) its
pow'r upon, the heires, by law, to gold of

to
most umbratike crowne,

created
men
pow'r wholly royale, lov'd by

th' surer
^th' first
wrecking
honor and naturall
empire put upon him, that knowledge and consequently a

wider ki'gdome's rule thorow knowledge be gained
th'
also
heyres of honor, next in ranke to soveraigne power,
made
it
effort to
win a promise and
assurance of this right, our royall

a
aspirations received a
dampening,
checke soe great,
co'vinc'd both,
wee were hoping

and some holde
for advanceme't
we might
Lord, his
never attaine.
It
may
bee,
it
excusation,
my
ambition, received the spurre in th' failure of soe reasonable
dema'ds.
It
is
undeniable,
all as it
I must say, to
if
make
these
things as plain to
these sentences,
could bee
hee himself e repeated
his originall
planne
much more
intended
my
plaine right the' his owne, but I refused to

20
liste to th'
TREASONS BY THE EARL OF ESSEX.

charmer in
2l
th' ill-deserving, ill-succeedi'g designe, so that
some such
fiery rebellion
on the Earle,
his part,
was perhaps
onely a manifestation by waye of bragging shews or

flaunts of various intents, that not I, but
many
my
gayer brother
was the darling, or the minion, of our people, specially of

th' Citie.
How it was overthrowne, dissprov'd, shattered, not Cipher

epistles
have related in
this
it
mark'd
sort, for
lacke of opporo'
tune houres to work, but

present booke.
may
be read in the body
the
But
least soe evill a
rumour
shall rise that
this record should
bee quite made waie with or bee after-
wards supprest, every truth must bee in a frame, inside a

verie greatly differing work.
By mine unsuspected small devices,

served, that
his story
may be prelesse
my newer capitals seen plainlie,

must surely by
this
as anie eye that
look'd but keenly
time have noted,
valew'd matter
may co\ej.
this that is
The
capitalls of a part of
some
hath
of th' stage plays are often thus twice serving these secret
works.
"When
now
bei'g
discyph'red
reach'd completion, I have this request to prefer that th'
minor Cypher may bee
us'd.
It proveth that a little of one's
reward, derived as such bee from gaining information,
may
revive one's courage soe that hee do his longer taskes with
pleasure.
Whilst I write
but
all,
I se most cleerly not

it
my owne
folly
my
sinful weaknesse like as
must in the
sight of one
Divine and Supream Judge of
all
creatures apeare.
In the
blindnesse and confusio', th' moment's question loom'd
up
before
me
and blotted out
love, honor, all th' joyes of the
past or dreames of farre offe fame.
That briefe duration

It is sad to looke back,
much outvalewed
Eternity
itself e.
yet sadder to co'template th' future.
All
my
late brothe'
22
hazarded will not so
much
linger, or
it
may
be
said,
have see
much waight
in such thoughts, as
my owne
o' th'
evermore accueffects of
mulating and abundant evidence

his rash doings.
unhappy
Her Majestie's regard and favour was by noe means

on account of our secret claime.
as a m.ark'd law, I
ours
It should rather bee noted
may say
without timorousnesse, the onely
shews of
th' affection
shee might be suppos'd to manifest,
sham'd us that they were understood.

this
Time
to tell
whence
curse
came, doth serve, as I

realme. hid so long, be
oft
am
desirous that
tli'
o' this
most blinde waie, and
made clear, yet shal I use a make sudden, unwisht, unprofitt'
able change to allowe a seeker

as smal worth as
th'
thinke
it
something of almost
wo'derfully curious devices wee have
heard
it
said
much
occupied people of a'cient ^gipt.

is it
But
the device, soe well

able
manag'd, doth holde
as in imperish-
amber the
story given in this way.

th'
Que. Elizabeth and Robert,
Earle
o'
Leicester,
were
join'd lawfully in wedlock before
my comming.
a
Essex
who
was
also
sonne unto
Her Ma. and

Yet
brother bredbone,
to death
bloud, sinnewxs as
my owne
was sentenced
by that
at
mere and
my owne
;
counsel.
this truth
must
some
wel
time be knowne had not I thus allowed myself e to give some
countenance to
th'
arraignement, a subsequent
lost th' life that I
triall, as
as th' sentence, I
lesse.
must have
is
held so price-
Life to a schola'
but a pawne for mankind.

FR.
B,
LONDON PRODIGAL.
33
SHAKESPEAEE QUAETOS.
LONDON PRODIGAL.
1605.
Do
not pause for a
moment
to delve 'mid
Cyphers where
rules put forth in the Bi-literall possesse whatever directions
you might need.

It
is
not far
off or
undisciph'red
drama hath such
a proof,
and methods that in manie ways shew
all our subtile intri-
cate inventions, but such as doth have on th' severall partes
printed one or other of the various pen-names used.
Kot
.^schylus, not Plautus, must be studied in this work,

and, as hath bene in Ciphars,
assistant, th' storie this
many
times over said to our

othe'
worke co'taineth cannot in anie
Cypher be seen
soe long upon.
in its
full, naked, unblushing truth, for in
some plays we blench'd somewhat, this story our love staieth

In each great part that wee shal bring into the world of
reading or thinking men, from this to our
finis, th' tale
may
be fou'd,
th' saddest in anie or
all th'
known
languages,
It
is scat-
the historic of th' Earle of Essex, our brother.

t'red with a lavish
hand through
th'
manie and varied plays
which, in divers names are published, fro' th' numerous unsign'd yet mark'd or sealed manuscript, and, as time
suit, are to
may
be deciph'red, and,
after our
owne part have
most
o' th'
secrets fitly hidd'n there,

^fiônes
so
brought out that
men o' th' future
must know our birth and parentage.
When
hour!
one, decypheri'g so
many
different workes, shal
write a story oft as th' same shall appeare,
woe worth the

this,
'None can attempt history soe reiterate, and
decyphr'd, must straight bee tried, and, as gold that shall
24

all
adorne Solomon, his temple, have

taken forth.
It shall be neyther
th'
which can dim its glory

tho' so tried
more nor lesse
our designe, from
mome't
it
was conceived, being

o^
to put
great and important secrets in everie part
these works, that

o' ours,
a decipherer shall not by any fault or omissio'

short of
come
and
manie wonderful
truths.
Make this such

pen greatly
entire
suitable history, none,

see this Avork, shal find
who
it
liking our
rejoice to
d'ficiente
eene by a word.
FR. BACON.
FEANCIS BACON.
OF THE ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.
1605.
Take, reade!
this
it is
sore necessity that doth force

difficile
me
to
very dry and also quite
Cyphar
as a
way
or
methode of transmission.
booke
Seldome (though occasionalie
in th' bright but infrequent verse) lines of a published
may
artfullie
come, plact in
my
Cypher amongst
be
as
new
matter; for
all this bi-literall
may
do, shall
an
helpe and aide to
my
former: one must cary on the other.
Therefore as you cease to be attracted by one, you

folow another, but I
spent
may
am most
assured that
my
long labor,
making such small
devices with this scope, end, and
ayme, when completed and put out, boldlie given forth
under
my
signature or in some other name, shall have full
recompence of reward.
As one
minde
shall
a pre-notion^more quickly, and

my
aide,
findeth that which doth already exist in his

will
more
readily
arrive at th' goal
when he doth keepe his eyes on it, soe my discipherer make farre more advancement, keepnere turning aside with a
ing steadilie on with
wandering eye.
It
is
for his advantage or benefitt, also, that th' lines

shall occasionally
that I
have mentioned
come
to view; th'
prenotion being thus formed greatly asisteth
many
times,
and doth ayde
th'
eye to see
th'
symboles (signes) to shew

concealment, or
my
discyphere' works of
my
25
penne in
rather in
masque or
disguise.
26
My
stage plaies have
all
beene disguis'd
(to wit,
many
in Greene's
name
or in Peelers, Marlowe's, a fewe, such

this
as th' Queene's
Masques and others of
kind published
for
me by
Jonson,
my
friend and co-worker) since I relate
a secret history therein, a storie of so sterne and tragick

qualitie,
it
illie
suited
my
lighte'
verse,
in the
earlier
workes.
It surely
must proove that they are the work of
my
hand when you, observing

th'
this varietie of forms, find out
Cyphar
soe devis'd to ayde a decipherer in the study
of th' interiour historie.
By
the use of this Bi-literall
Cypha', or the highest degree of
Cyphar writing, I may

an
exa'ple.
give not meerely simple plain rules for such matters, but
also
some hint that may bee of
use, or
It is
fame that
all seeke,
and
if
surelie so great
renowne
can comC' in noe othe' studie:

th' study,
therefore
you commence
the lawrell must at some future day be bestow'd

interesse
upon you, for your
must dayly grow and none
could winne you awaye.
On mee
shall
it
doth impose a great labour, but the part you
doe shall be
o'
much
lighter.
It
is
many
is
dales,
(ay,
best part
a yeare now) th' worke that
before you
'tis
hath beene in hand: noe wonder, then, that

som' taske and somewhat
clod: whe', however,
it
a weariveriest
drie.
It
would weary the
shal
be completed,
my
joy will
exceede th' past wearinesse.
Soone
labour
it
can but be scene that I have undertaken great

behalfe of
in
men
for the furder advancing of

it
knowledge, awaiting a time when
shall
bee in everie
kept to
is
language
other ages
excited
as in
our owne, but that this
may be
we may
th'
use th' Latine, since our feare
often
by
want we note
in this, th' English, of a degree
IN
ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.
its
27
or measure of stability or of uniformity of

tion;
construc-
and
also
many changes
in usage
shews
it is
wise to
use for a
Still,
monument, marble more

so great is
lasting.
our love for our mother-tongue, wee

as are
have at times made a free use, both of such words

consid'r'd antique,
spiritt of
and
of
stile,
theme, and
th'
innermost
Spenser
an earlier day, especially in
Edmunde
th'
poemes that are modelled on Chaucer; yet

ancient
is
antique or
lightly woven, as
you no doubte have before

both comon
this noted, not onlie with expressions that are
and unquestionablie
quently
with
English of our
own
daie,
but
fre-
French wordes, for the Iôrman-French

left its traces.
William the Conqueror introduced

Beside nought
is
furder from
my
thoughts then a wish
to lop this off, but,
on the contrarie, a desire to graff more

th' tree
thoroughly on our language, cutts that will make
more delightsome and
its
fruits
more
rare,
hath oft led
me
to doe the engraffing for
my
proper self e.
Indeed not
th'
gemmes
of their language alone, but the
Jewells of their crowne are rightfullie England, her inheritance.
Furthermore many words commonlie used in

parts of England,
strike th^ eare of citizens of
different
townes in
southerne England like a foreine tongue, combinations
whereof make
all this varietie,
that I finde ofttimes melo-
dious, againe lesse pleasing, like the
commingling of counreason,
in the cause of all
is
trey fruites at a market faire.
Yet you, seing the
approve, no doubte, th' efforts I
make
students of a language and learning, that
yet in
its
boy-
hood, so to speake.
The inwarde motive
is
noble, onlie as
it
cometh from a
selfish
pure love of the people, without a wrong or
thought
28
of
my
right to rule this
kingdome
as
her supreme gov-
ernour: but this deathlesse, inalienable, roiall right doth

exist.
Queen
th' Earle,
Elizabeth, the late soveraigne, wedded, secretly,
my
th'
father, at th'
Tower of London, and
afterre-
wards at
house of Lord
this
ceremony was
peated, but not with any of the
pompe and ceremonie
that
sorteth wel with queenly espousals, yet with a sufficient
number
should
of witnesses.
I, therfore,
sit
being the
first
borne sonne of
this
union
upon the throne, ruling the people over whom
the Supreame Soveraigne doth shewe
my
right, as
hath
beene
power.
said,
whilst suffering
others to keepe the royall
A foxe,
back
seen oft at our Court in th' forme and outward
appearance of a
man named Robert

th'
Cecill
must
my
the
hunchto
answer at
Divine Araignment
my
Th'
fol-
charge agains', him, for he despoyled
me
ruthlessly.
Queene,
mother, might, in course of events which
low'd their revelations regarding
my
birth and parentage,
without doubt having some naturall pride in her offspring,

often have shewne as no
little
attenntion
had not the
crafty foxe aroused in that tiger-like spiritt th' jealousy

that did so tormente the Queene, [that] neyther night nor
day brought her respite from such suggestio's about hope that I might bee England's king.
my
He
tising
told her
my
endeavours were
all
for sov'raigntie and
honour, a perpetuall intending and constant hourlie prac-
some one thing urged or imposed,

roiall dignity.
it
should seeme,
by that
absolute, inhere't, honorably deriv'd necessitie of
a conservation of
IN
29
He
bade her observe the strength, breadth and com-
passe, at
an early age, of
th'
th' intellectual
powers I displaied,
and ev'n deprecated

speech which
gifts
gen'rous disposition or graces of

friends,
wonne me manie
steale
implying that
my
would
thus,
no doubt, uproot
awaie
her, because I would,
like
Absalom,
th' people's harts

alive.
and usurp the

be exorcised,
throne whilst
my
mother was yet
The
in
terrors
he conjur'd up could by no
art
and many
trialls
came therefrom, not alone

th'
in youth, but
my
earlie
manhoode.
horror each dreem'd of
th'
Neyther one supposed

last of the
th'
mindes waking notiones and
one that, draw-
ing th' darke curtaines as night departed, had entered with

th' light
each morning
would
take forme of th' other
offshoot, th' favourite heyre, Eo.bert
at th'
time known
onelie
by
th'
it
borowed cognomen of Devereux, Earl of

indeed was hee, who, as though
th'
Essex: yet
booke of
their suppositions or feares
was to him the one that con-
tain'd easie lessons in treason, at last let loose th' dragon.
For a short
space, this rebellion of th' Earl of Essex
hardly shewed as such, having beene by the counsel of his

friends, kept wisely backe
large bodie of souldiers at Mil ford Haven, expecting

to
when he purpos'd landing a many
joyn his forces
as
they mov'd on towards London, and
contenting th' proude soule, swelling to bursting in his

breast, to
by taking forth two-hundred of his choycest give a show of greatnesse and aide him in th'
was hatching.
lesse
spirits
secret
projects that hee
His planne was nothing

to
than [a]
mad
designe
take possession of th
'
Court; his assistants, Davers,

e'ter unchal-
Davis and Blount, being well known, might
lenged with a sufficient number of aydes that, scatter'd

about, should likewise cause
no remarke;
at th' given signe
30

seize,
they were to
without confusion,
th'
halberdes of the
guard, take stand, each in his previously assigned place
one
to
holde the guard- chamber, one to possess himself of
the hall, and a third to keepe watch at the gate
whilst
Essex should enter
th'
presence chamber and virtually get
possession of the Queene, under the pretense of complain-
ing that certaine of her advisers and informers were his

mortal 1
enemies, and,
maki'g bold
to
desire
Her Ma.
should bring these
men
to triall, should
promptly name
some who were neither wanting

in courage to
in
good favor nor deficient
occupy the places so made vacant.

to
Then
and the
was Parliament
citty itselfe to
be
call'd to
make
concessions,
be under his controle.

to
This planne knowne perfectlie
Southampton, the
chiefe of his frends, manifestely suited that aventurous

assistant well,
but
it
failed in execution as
we know.
The unwonted
had
th'
stir
in all quarters, while Earle Kobert
measure of liberty he enjoied, made*Her Majesty
watchful; also the assembling from every county of England of noteworthie men, nobilitie and militarie being
chief ely observed
not, however, throngs bitt slowe gath-
erings as though one drewe afterwards
another
escapt
not her
eie,
aware
o'
danger and
to the
whereupon the guards at Court were made th' numbe' doubled. Keport therof,
Earle of Essex, greatly excited his feares
coming
least his plot
had beene discovered, and hasten'd the end.
From
th' first,
my
lord of Essex,
whose whole thought

th'
clung to his originall planne of seizing

ing upon th' inspector of the ordinance
Tower,
rely-
who had vowed
to
o'
surrender the keyes,
and afterward,
from such point
vantage surprising and possesing
th' cittie,
attempted to
winne
th'
favour of the Protestants overtlie, and of his
IN
81
Jesuit acquaintances covertly, promising the latter, I

trulie
am
informed, that he would
restore the Catholick faith,
and, as his innermost being was mightily sway'd

ination, I thinke
by imag-
he persuaded himselfe that hold on the
people was sufficient to carry out these simpler plots,

whilst hee doubted
Her
his
Majestie's graces
would under-
mine a hope
built
on
th' faith
and
affection of th' gentle-
men
that were
among
companie; therefore hee deter-
mined that a surprise would be attended by too many

dangers, and trusting greatly to the love of th' citizens,
fell
backe on their ayde.
'Twas
th'
Candlemas term ere

he had ample and
his plan
was soe farre digested.

little
His liberty being
restrained
constant meanes of carrying on his plans.

confined to his chambers at Court,
for
it
As he was not
to send
councill, but
was necessary
him when he should appear before the

this
when
was done
my
lord boldly refus'd to go,
and
straightwaye disseminated a rumour that in going thither

in the evening
he was
set
upon and nearly drowned by
Cobham,
himselfe.
th' tool of Sir
Walter Raleigh, and Sir Walter was frequently varied by
But unfortunatelie
th'
this tale
Earle,
and
at
one time hee did give out that four
Jesuits
had made an attack foure dales before, for the

This weaken'd his case so
same or similar purpose.

that but
much
few came
at his call
when he went
out, for
forth bidding
them arm and
fight for their king.
In truth he saw not many people

in readinesse within for th' call."
Her Majesty
waite
tooke the wise precaution to give order:
"Arm and
32
the principall gentlemen, a
But with him were now not lessa than fifteen company well chosen,
score of
contain-
ing on th' part of th' nobility, Earls of Eoutland and of
Southampton, Lords Sandes, Mountegle, with others; behind him he had

left
Earle of Worcester, Lord Keeper,
Lord
Chief
Justice,
beare' of th' Seal,
themselves
party met
Her Majestie's Comptroller, and who had come to meet Earle Robert,
enduring imprisonment in his house, but
they remained not long in duresse.
Th' tour of
th' citty
being well nigh made,
my
lord's
Her
Ma.'s troopes led forth by th' Admirall.

kill'd;
Blount was wounded, Tracy

to his
then
my
lord return'd
owne
th'
house, and baricading the two great gateSj
defended
house on
all
sides,
but
it
avaPd not long.
First hee begg'd for th' safe co'duct of th' Countesse, then
surrendered.
SIR
F.
SHAKESPEAKE QIJAKTO.
KING LEAR.
1608.
Xo
one in whose
spirit is
no loê of pow'r,
spirit.
will
know
tli'
nature of th' flame

date, speaki'g in a
i'
my
wilde
Tli'
death of recent
comparative way, of
my
mother Queen
Elizabeth, should put
me upon
th' royal
chayre of England,
because, borne in lawfull wedlocke, I

birth, true sov'raigne.
am by
th' rights of
I aske only justice, but Divine, ay, God-giv'n
rig't.
Honor
denied
tliat
had by precedent usage and by lawe long apperfirst
tayn'd unto the
borne sonne to the sovereigne, was

direct pursuance
me in the life-time and in
and
fulfil-
ment
oft
of the wishes of
Her Majesty, my mother.
"Noe fame
could holde up brighte' temptation than this that hath most
beene refus'd
power, and in transferring our scepter to

Her Majesty's intention and wish was
could not be r aught by anie outstretcht
the
King
it
of Scotland,
to put
where
it
arme.
Beating in
my braine with this injustice, Avhich the yeares

is
can have no soothing influence upon, there

that fate,
memorie of
this,
by farre more
sad, cruell,
and unjust then
met
by rash Kobert.
It
must be acknowledg'd that

any wise be
th'
crime for which hee
sufer'd could not
palliate
by
his past services or
bravery, but, had a signet-ring that hee did desire to present
reacht Elizabeth, Kobert, th' sonne
madly
lov'd,
it
might have
well-
received a roiale remitment, inasmuch as
was her
known
sea]
and token.
This did
faile,
however, to act as
peace-maker as it came not, for good reason, to Her Majesty's

88
34

Dredf ul was her passion of anger and her bootlesse
on finding that our proud hero had
so stoopt,
sor-
eyes.
row
of hart
and
to
was not met.
As hee had beene led

th'
to
beFeve he had but

at a
send the ring to her and
same would
mome't's
warni'g bring rescue or relief e, he relyed vainly, alas! on

this
promised ayde.
it
A bitter griefe
dearer, as
was, not the lesse because he was -f arre

tho' but a
is th'
you know,
younger
child,
then one as
worthy her love who
heire.
It shal bee well depicted in a play
and you wil be
in-
structted to disc^^plier
it
fully, as soone as suits
with such
duty
ev'n
as e'grosseth
you now.
bee ended.
Keepe
at the great
Cipher
B.
when
th' plavs
SIR FRA.
KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

1608.
^
Stay in this work to get your

lines or iêrses
as
first
directe rule relating to

at the
which were much employed
beginning
aydes in the work that had not advanced farre towards

Vergill, with all of
co'pletio'.
of poets,
Homer, I have made
my most cherisht, or revered, to serve my designe as there
could hardly so
lopt if noe
much
bee divided, mangled, cut, hewen or
penne save
my
unskilled quill
for I was yet
youthful!
prepar'd
all
i'teriour materiall.
This
new
contr'vance also lack'd some s-uide or hand in
order to shew th' way, meandering in tortuous farre-reach-
ing course, in
bookes that I designed, and at that time I

th' key, at th'
had great feare that no sharp eye would note aught

or such name-wordes, purport.
How to
disguise,
but
same instant give unmistakable, manifold

grave but very constant quaere with
instructio's
was a
me
that with
manie
IN KING
excellent plannes
HENRY THE
FIFTH.
lesser
36
and by diverse repeated
experiments
in time slowly brought the desir'd but dificile respondeat
contrivance
an
inge'ious waie
by which
lines
and frag-
ments of
forme.
scatt'r'd story s are collected as in their original
Scholars of great note have this:
When
it
aniething
new
hath bin shewn them, they recognise in

alreadie
that
which they
know, rathe' then they will discover that they know
not; ther'fore I have emploied these translations for the

benefit of such.
FRA'CIS FIRST OF ENGLAND.
PERICLES.
1609.
This
is
simply another portio' greatly occupying a plaie
too poor to work to our true or permanent renoune.
In
it
were these shames, (foul horrors we fain leave unfinisht

while fairer portions
tlr
may
be found) that are base as aught

fit
rude countrey hindes bee supposed to thinke as
for
creatures
give,
human
;
as for any.
th'
As indeede
this horror
is
wee
our
'tis
merely doth repeat
horror to be found, this

storie
argumen' none will aske another, for a

told hath beene a
paining as
weary eno'gh relation without any

telling.
uselesse
third
It
and fourth time
may win
;
true acclamations, real or just applause,' or
greater blame
which
it
may
ill,
be
is
not knowne at present,

is
but wee, an historian, must needes write that which

if it
true
to
bee good or nere so
and must hold
a glasse
up
others that none

of his
life.
may taint with
a slime like this th'
fountayn
36
But doe not

as th'
forget to seeke for your Cipher poeraes such

his
two poemes of noble Horner^
most worthy verse,

our Pastorale of
and those great Virgill gave manki'de,
also
the Christ, with a fantasy, and sev'rall that have lesse importe but are
stil
worthy, meth ought, to keep, for the excel-
lence sustayn'd through

are written in
poems now used only in workes that

shal aide one
Cypher
when
these shall be
brought forth
cease with
t'
shew their authorship.

so
But work must not

which
shall
poems herein nam'd,

o'
much time hath beene

o'
given to th' waiting
diverse plai's, nine
have
a time of dark dayes without a future, if such an eager seeker
be never scene
as is visible to th'
is
eye of our minde.
Howere, great
our co'fidence in some name as well
knowne
to
Him who go^êrneth al as is our name,

at last as
and
it
shall
t*
be united to ours
th' light so that
our writings shall be brought
one
may
sec.
Heede
These are words of
FRANCIS BACON, KT.
HAMLET.
1611.
Our new play
hatli breasted th'
wave
so
galantlie, so
brightly, a thrill runneth
thorow minde,
spirit,
and
heart,
and great joy beateth in artyries even

youth.
as in our earliest
To man,
ted, yet
lesse in
his sight, forthwith,

eie
our secretes were submit-
no
but ours seeth our interior history hid not

sucli as th'
workes
one
now
in your emploie, then in
many much more worth ie

tion to
of note, through a timely attenhis cheefe slips, or errata.
most of old Atlas,
This
in the
should not be understood to bee anie Atlas to
whom
antient time was committed th' waight of our world, but
IN
HAMLET.
it
37
one wee designate thus foolishly, since
doth entirely deof printing, the
pende on him to superintend

correction of so
his
own worke
Some
much
matter co'taini'g bi-form'd letters

attempt.
having bin
all
we could
things in a follow-
ing editio'
may
be altered but wee depende on our decy-
ph'rer, as in recognition of the merits of our stage-plaies, at
some day, not verie long after our history hath bin decyph'red, to collect these all into one tome.
It shall bee noted in truth that
some greatly exceede
their
fellowes in wôrth, and

varied, yet
it is
easily explained.
Th' theame
to
was alwayes a subject well selected
convey the
secret message.
Also the plays being given out as tho'gh

actor to
written
by the
whom
each had bin consigned, turne
one's genius suddainelie
In
this actour that
many times to suit th' new man. wee now emploie, is a wittie veyne
In truth
it
different
from any formerly employed.
suiteth
well wîth a native spirrit,

ourselfe.
humourous and grave by turnes in

It
later
Therefore w^hen wêe create a part that hath him

is
in minde, th' play
corresponsively better therefor.
must bee evident
to our friend
and co-wôrker that these

all
dramas are superior in nearlie

genius hath swaie
:
those scenes where our
these Cyphers do
much
limit th' expres-
sions of th' exteriour part
and when narration predominates,
genius f eeleth the rein that doth governe th' movements and
th' course.
With feelings,
ferent,
reveries,
and contemplation,
th'
it is
quite dif-
and the interiour story aydeth in
production of
these exteriour plays w^hen they have sway.
FRANCIS BACON
(RIGHTFUL)
R.
TITUS ANDRONICUS.
1611.
Few thought
our decypherer
an adoptive heire and suppos'd sonne to Sir

stage-plays
Mcholas Bacon, wrote
and
it
was
to
know
of our
ought without the
so-call'd author's
new drama that name upon

crushed by
its
make onely we publisht

the page.
But knowing
also that truth
one strong
enemy, errour, commeth up in fresher vigour, whilst truth

in obscurity hidden, oft remai'eth long enwrapt
from
sight,
most playes wee had sent out before our new one, had the
stile
or
name
of an actor
he who wil put

it
it
foorth
but
anon the one who bringeth
on our
stage.
Rules for that other Cipher,
of thing'
found
at the
present day best for interiour stage-plays, in some degree

like
and rivaling
th' diverse exteriour dr apings,
will bee
giv'n soone, as
we
wish
th' storie in that
way most
ple'santlie
concealed, disciphered and
made
cleere to all
upon the
earth.
So great wrongs must bee
sette right, here, else posterity
may
not bee richer, as shall concerne knowledge of English
historic of our times, then
most of
this dull generation.
Very few know, to-day, th' injustice done us by the late Queene of our most powerfull realme Elizabeth of England for she was our owne royale mere, the lawf uU wedded
wife to the Earle of Leister (Leicester, as oft
it
will be
found)
who was our true
sire,
and we the heire
to
crowne and
throne ought to Avield her scepter, but were barr'd the succession.
We should,
like other princes, the first that blest
that royale union, succeed the Queene-mother to soveraig'ty,
but punished through the rashnesse of our late artf nil

brother this right shal bee denied us forever.
IN TITUS ANDRONICUS.
39
We can win bayes, lawrell gyrlo'ds 3,nd renowme, and we

can raise a shining monumente which shall not suffer the
hardly Avonne, supremest, croMîng glory to fade.
shal the lofty
!Nere
as
and wide-reaching honor that such workes
these bro't us bee lost whilst there
|ound
to aii'orde opportunity to
may even a work bee actors who may play those
powerful parts which are
clayme
to
now soe greeted with great acwinne such name and honours as Wil Shaketo earth's finale
th'
speare, o' th' Glob' so well did win, acting our dramas.
That honor must

but
al
morn
yet folow him,
fame won from
authorshippe (supposed) of our

after our
plays must, in good time,
owne worke, putting
away
it,
its
vayling disguises, standeth forth as you only

to us.
know
F.
bee yeelded
EDMUND
SPENSEE.
SHEPHEARDS CALENDER.
1611.
works,
Two parts of my booke, which I set may be placed behind everie othe'
and
th' Faerie
before
as
my
lasf
you arrange
the whole to decypher your instruction.

opo.
I speake of Pros-
Qu. but the other parts must stand

Let
all
thus, as here
you
as
finde them.
the remainder bee
work'd
history
first,
they ayde in the writing of
my
brother's
which was begunne in the second
part, or book, that
doth commence one of
my
great workes of Scyence and,

stiled
continued in the
little
work
The Wisdome
of the
is re-
Auncients, and taken up in this poeticall worke that

published for this purpose,
maketh
a compleat abridge-
ment of the
history given fully in the great Cypher.

said,
As hath
bin
destroyed by the
many importante papers having beene Earle, many features of their plot were
tell tales.''
never brought out, E. Essex himself e saying, "They shall
be put where they cannot

sufficient to
But evidence was

brother and Earl
prove
th' guilt
both of
my
of Southampton.
at
Essex, his plea, that hee was not present
the consultation that five treason-plotting noblemen
helde at Drury-house, ayded

ciates incriminated
him not
a whit, for his asso-
him, and such of their writings as had
not beene destroyed were in the handwriting of

Essex, as was shewne at the
triall,
my lord
of
as
and they were acting
hee directed.
How
like
some nightes horrible
vision this triall
and
awful torture before his execution must ever be to me,

40
IN
SHEPHEARDS CALENDER.
sitteth aloft
41
none but the Judge that

All the scenes come before
to put
it
can
justlie
knowe.
but how-
me
like the acted play,

to
awaje, or drive
it
back
Avernus,
its
home, O,
who can
that all
divulge that greatest

is
o' secrets?
None.
This thought onelj
fraught wdth a measureles pain,

If hee
had but heard

tempt
my power can doe nought for his memorie. my advice, but he heeded his owne
Whilst succeeding barely in
as
unreathis at-
soning wishes only.

to so
much
winne a hearing, yet did

that,
th'
true
love I bore soe
moove mee
occupy
from
tooke a charge that greatly imperiled

sions, as I did
my care o' Essex, I my personall pretenand even aventure
my
utmost
witt,
my own
fortunes with th' Queene, to attempte th' reintehis.

it
gration of
This, however, though

benefitt,
had
th' will to
doe Essex great
was truely
little lesse
harmful unto
to me.
my
lord RobEliza'tis
ert of
Ewe, I may now admit, then
Queene
beth,
my mother,
yeelded nought upon the questio', tho'
knowne commonly that persuasions swayed her often, even when object seem'd as armed agaynst it. Yet this disposition was not paramount when I made my plea in behalf of him, whom loving trust haplie kept in checke when a wôrd of dubitancie would pricke as with a spurre. Thus
the breach between
my
haplesse kinne widen'd

silence both.
and nothing
uncertaine
may
close
it,
for a
tombe doth
Vantages acompted great,
simply
as
th'
dreames or visiones of night seeme
to us in after time.
Ended now
to wield th'
to
is
my
great desire to
sit
in British throne.
offer:
Larger worke doth invite
my hand then majestic doth

Ay, I cry
to th'
penne doth ever require a greater minde then

royall scepter.
all,
sway the
Heavenly
Ayde, ruling ore and contente.
ever to keepe
my
soule thus
humbled
42
O
Thee.
Source
infinite of light, ere
Time
in existence was,
save in
Thy
creative plan, all this tragedy unfolded before

us.
night of Stygian darknesse encloseth

its flight
My
hope, bannish'd to realmes above, taketh

th' clear aire of the Scyences,
selfe.
through
unto bright daye with Thy-
enfolde
infuse
As Thou them in from Thy
didst conceale
Thy
lawes in thick clouds,
shades of mysterious gloom.

spirit a desire to
Thou
didst
put the day's glad worke,
th' evening's
thought, and midnight's meditation to linde
out their secret workings.
Only thus can I banish from

brother's untimely cutting
his tryall.
his death
off,
my
thoughts
my
beloved
and
my
wrongfull part in
th' great
O, had I then
ojie
thought of
life's
change
would
cause,
how
this
worth would shrinke,
and
this world's litle
golden sunshine be but as collied
night's swifte lightning,
had never come
as a
hound
me.
of th' hunt to
my
idle thoughts.
As it is now, the true meaning of The heavens declare God's glory, but
nowhere of His
undertake
struc'ion.
this,
events
is
loste to
Scripture doth speak
will
being thus declared.
In order to
in-
our mindes must bee inclin'd to His
This abridgement
notes given,
is
now
ended.
By
the ayde of the
work out
this history, for if this
be
lost
my
his.
history will also bee unfinisht, so close
my
path lay by
This you duelie have noted.

Besides our secret storie no correcte one shall be
as
left,
Her Ma., takeing

course, (which
a liking, early, of
my
writings
upon
part of late negotiations, required a species of justification

o' th'
none surely shew'd) carried

Robert
is
it
indeed
th'
so as in
man,
his sight,
helde abhorr'd; but I
clerk, did the writing, or acted as Secretary, th' report fully
satiating everyone.
IN FAERIE QUEENE.
43
FAERIE QUEENE.
1613.
Some
did not
I,
want-wit,
may
it
be, desiring note, if it uproot all
love's fibres,
would have welcomed such a
taske; so truly,
less
for to
me
grew
to
be more indirect,
honor-
able, so to
Queene
put forward
's
my
as
a
dear lord, his misdeedes, at

it
beheast though I did
but at^her expres
commands, and always

Verilie scarce a
Secretary to
worde remained unaltered.
Her Majesty. The language,
even, was not wholly such as I wish'd to use, as all was
subjected to her painefully searching scrutiny, and manie

a sentence did her
weake
fear, her
dread of execratio',
make
o'
her weigh and alter whilst her jealousie cull'd out
my every
name
of th'
noblemen who were charged with a lack

th' stile that I
loyalty,
and
emploied when I said* ought

honorable and just
stile
concerning Robert.
For
my
a
of
Earl of Essex and of Ewe, as

lord
"my
lord of Essex'' and

similar
it
"my
and
Robt.",
tearmes,
Her Ma. would suggest

itself to
on
many
page
names
that
be meerly plaine
It
Essex, or in place of that "th' late Earle of Essex."
approbv'd
her in such degre, that
my
first
bookes
were suddainely and peremptorylie supprest and (and)

printed according to
commande, de novo, thereby only

judgement sharp on
th'
sure proofe giving of a

illes,
his lordshipp's
th'
but subtile concearning her owne; and assuredly
world
may
see that
though she might be excelent in great

i'
matters she was exquisite
the
lesser.
So
much
did some
earlie
worke on
this noblest
noble youthes, our brothe' Robt. annoy th' Queene,
among we
manifested a willingnesse to suppresse

soe doing
it,
and because of
our work.
were
at
some
losê to continue
To
44

the world doth owe most
this secret device, or invention,
gracious thanks
iovf^Si
large part of his historic.

S.
To
Sir
Clyomen and
Clamydes, you must conjoyne
Orlando Furioso, and Alphonsu' King of Arragon, then

Descensus
zar;
Order of the Garter, The Battayle of Alca-
add next David and Bathseba, and Edward.
For
as
this
earlie
work nothing from
othe' parts
neede be taken,
th'
we
made an attempt about that time to put space, in order to make your task of
history easy, feari'g
as
it
work
into lesse
writing th' secret
my
labours' losse if broadly scattered,

to
was of a character more worth
me
then
to
my
times,
and not of a secret nature after page

o' th' first leav's,
three, or at
most two
regarding Robert's true name,
and certaine matters

family whose name
relative to his adoption into the kind
that
by which
all
England knew him,

untill this blot of
excepting th' principall actors that played well their parts

i'
th'
drama
noe
it.
staine
had touched
treason fell on
He
was one of the adventurous,
valiant, bolde spirits

it
not easilie hidden in any place, and
was
not, therfore,
unseemly that the sonne of one

reputed as th'
first
so
widely and favourably
Earl of Essex,
made
so bolde
[as] to
wooe
th'
goddesse Fortune at Court.
iSTone
knewe
so trulie
as Elizabeth, our
proude unbending,
roial mere, the cause
of manie of our willfuU Essex' orebearing ways.
Th' knowledge that he was princely in truth, despite

pretense,
and, whilst at
Court his nominall place and

stile
standi'g was onelie th' Courtier's, his rightful
was
Prince, th' Queene's lawful sonne,
warm'd
into life and
action the ambitions that were his inherited, primal instinct.
How
far he ventured
upon
this royal 1 prerogative, this
IN FAERIE QUEENE.
45
propper right of favour and advancement, historie plainlie

relateth, yet onelie in
our Cipher-historie
may
scales
be
oped that guarde the secrets hid long in silente halles: for
'tis said,
walles have ears, none saye walles have a tongue,
trulie,
none who doe
visit Courts.
Daring, indeed, the
pen that can write
a royal story, tho' it
be in Cyphe',
many
pens
It
times as daring he that doth this task openlie. There
bee fewe
who
will attempt
it,
and
it
shal not be
tel
by
their
we
is
shal finde out the result

clear to
dead men
no
tales.
my
minde, the Earle, our father, hoped
that his darling wishes relating to a declared heir to suc-
ceede to the throne, were neare realization, as hee observed

the advance in marked respect or favour th' younger sonne
made from day to manner and free

soule
o'
dale.
Our vayne mother
lov'd his bolde
spirit, his
sodaine quarrells, jealousy in
honour, strength in love.
She saw in him her
owne
spirit in
masculine moulde, full of youth and beauty.
To
to
her, fate, a turn of Fortune's wheel,
had given
th''
gift of royaltie,
and
th'
throne of mighty England was hers<

heart
beestow on
whom her
mought
choose.
Little
won-
der that false fancy sway'd where better judgement, infected,
had
loste
power, and that impatient Lo.

distresse.
won
just
nought in that struggle but feare and

thus they tearm'd
My
claime he set aside liking belter their valiant lion-heart
him
howsoever unmeete,
my Qu
or unjust.
desire
t'
foyl yeeldes luride light on everything ther-
after: his
one wish ever gleaming brightlie through the
clouds of pretense, and I receive
from that
alter 'd
appearance of
doth suppose.
th' skies,
ISTot
yet doe not trulie give over, as he
withstanding overtly any of
my
ill-
advised sire's aspiring purposes, or planus,

dissimulation, though a faint kind of
for often shall
wisdome prove verie
46

policie,
good
still
yet, in th' secrecy o'
my owne
bosome, I do
hold to
til'
faith that
my
heart has never wholly surerror
rendered, that truth shall
come out from
and
my
my line o' life be severed. How many times this bright dreeme hath found lodgement in my braine how manie more hath it beene shunn'd
head be crowned ere
!
as
an influence of Pluto's darke realme!

I
It
were impos-
sible,
am
assur'd, since witnesses to th'
marriage and to
my
a
birth (after a proper length of time) are dead,
and the
is it
papers certifying their preasence being destroyed, yet
wrong
that will rise, and a crye that

it is
none can hush.

braine by th'
th'
Strive as I may,
onely driv'n from
my
unceasing tossing of this sea of laboring cogitations for
advancement of learning.
sodaine wind or tide,
its
Ofte driven as 'twere with

strike 'gainst the
waves
very vault
of th' heav'ns and breake in uselesse wreaths

froth.
o'
bubbling
Think not
in your inmost heart that
you or any others

would mani-
whom you would

fest a wiser or
put in the same case
as ours,
calmer minde, because none
who doe
not
stand, as I stood,
on Pisgah's very height, do dream of the

have scene.
is th'
faire beautie of that land that I
England
as
she might bee

vision I see
It
is
if
wisely govern'd,
dream
or beautious
from Mt. Pisgah's
loftie toppe.
self e,
noe improper exaltation of
when
fit
one, feeling
in heart
and brayne the divine
giftes that
him
for his
Princely destiny
or that rightly inherited albeit wronglie
withholden soveraignty
in true, noble, kingly spirit doth
looke for pow'r, not for th' sake of exercising that gift, but
that he
into
may
uplifte his people
from
th'
depth of misery
which they constantlie sink, to th' firm rocke of such mode of life as would change cries to songs of praise.
IN FAERIE QUEENE.
47
You
will, ere
your work be compleated, see
either in
my word
method
of imparting these inner epistles, or writ

shall fayl to
soe plaine that
none
comprehende
a form
or
designe of a modell land, as anie might be with propper
governours; but you must tarrie for

as it existeth, as yet,
it
a space, inasmuch
but in
my thought.
till
However I say
not, wait idly
wê carrie this to its
full perfection, since a great part
remaineth
now
to
work
out from these various Cyphers that I here use, and, friend,
to cease labour
now would
truly be to lose that history that
I have desired above every other
work
to write, that a
com-
ing people in th' future, having read the false declarations
made
in writings given then, blinding eyes to deepe, justlie
censured wrongs, might understand motives of action as

well as the true historic of events.
And you
will soone observe that I
have told
my
owne
th'
sad story with the same openheartednesse as that which

revealeth other secrets for
my
verie soule
is
opened that
lot,
world might looke on

to choose
it
and reade of
my
hard
having
between
life, libertie
of the citty, freedom, and
a promise of future recognizance of service, and th' same

for
my
dear Robert.
Reasoning that no pow'r should prevaile with her Majestic,
I felt
how
ill-advis'd
a sacrifice o'
life
and
its
enchantments must be, that surely would be of no

I have
spirit of sufficient fire,
effect.
is
I thinke, for such hap as
probable to
ture,
my
station,
not enough to support
me
in torth'
nor to lead forth anie enfans perdus.
Seeing
hopeless state treason-loving Essex was in, I
knew
I had
but to continue
my
plea,
urging that forgivenes might bee

last egi'csse
accorded to Essex, to close th'

lead to th' gallowes.
from
a cell, or
Thus was
my way
hedged about,
thick clouds hid th' path from sight.
48

In
tlie last
stanzo
is
a directio' to th' next following
works to co'tinn the

before any othe' for
storie thus
'tis
begun.
It
must be
writte'
most
complete,
and
interio' writings,
while pleasing
when
discjpher'd, are
somewhat wearying.
As work
ruinam,
trulie,
it
of anie kind was
meant by
Him
that impos'd
et
the curse on sinfull
man
to
be ad correctionem
non ad
will benefit us both.
meete punishment,
and one that
bless'd,
and everie
make the very curse man most envyde who can say as doth
shall in turne
:
your attentive friend
This hand will accomplish a worthie
labour for future use, which shal bee the

th'
monument where
whole of these studies are shewn forth and deficiencies

Since
it
enumerated.
out what
is
doth more ayde mankind to point

all
lacking then to prepare
your woorke
so that
it is
nothing shall longer remaine to bee found out,
for
man's delight to find out mysteries, but

conceale some matters,
urelesse,
th' glory of
God
to
with a
is
preside't of highest, ineas-
supreme wisdome,
a divine modell for
man
to
foUowe.
Nor do we
find that Holie Scripture hath
any
prohibition against an acquisition of knowledge intended
only for th' world's betterment.
He who
it
is
not against us
ît
is
noe
lesse true to-day

it
then
was sixteene centuries
ago, so that I say, nor shall
aske anie further explanation,
noe man's hand

If
is
better employ'd then his who searcheth
out a hidden matter.
you continue
sufiicient I
this
worke
to the
end you
shall
have
reward
think to advantage you as well as ad-
vaunce
my
invention, and
th' better satisfaction of
make knowne my historic for those who see deeps in Engla'd's
historic that
have
th'
blood of her sonnes therein.
A
man
Queene's
edict, if
not her yron hand, killed such a
that for valour and
manly
spirit
was unequal'd.
FR. BACON.
BE]\^
JONSOK
POLIO.
1616
ENTERTAYNMENT.
Keepe many
are
keies
and joyning wordes in minde, that

for your writing will pro-
now employed
if
in
my Homer,
ceed faster
decypher this work.
you have many well memorized when you Allthough th' parts are small, and a
it
great manie workes containe the scattered portions,

th'
hath
that
th'
joy and som.ewhat th' excitement of sport
of th' chase
even
in pursuite, therefore doe not fall out

to passe
by
waye nor allow anie

to
by you,
as it doth surely
ope
you a path
as
wondrous
as anie that doth
th' fields of
knowledge, to that divine hight,
ere th' feete
may
attayn unto
it,
It
winde through
în
view long
ûpon Olympus' toppe.
Oft doe I muse upon
th' ultimity of this Ciphe',

it.
and aske
whose hand may compleate
may be
that of
some
th'
man whom
dayly I have seene going to and fro in

th' Citty.
martes and halls of
It
may, perchance, be some
sharpe spye of th' court whose zeale would be
my
death.
But
my
hope
is,
that not th' yeares but th' ages shall
unfolde
my secret historic,
th'
and reverse a decision that hath

Queene,
beene given respecting

birth-right,
so small
my
mothe',
my
th'
owne
com-
and many othe' things of

as that, did
interesse,
but of ev'n
valew
they rather conceam
monalty then royal persons, they might not bee read.
However, admiration of greatnesse

foibles of a
is
naturall.
Ev'n the
Queene would please
at so
remote a day.
BACON.
50
KINGS CORONATION.
This work
is
also Bacon's,
intended meerelie to ayde in
producing some parts of the translations.
Some have beene

all
found repeated too often, yet as the partes should not bee
lost, this
Entertaynment was devis'd that
should appear
in convenient order.
this
Bee not
th'
too hasty in condemning
meanes unto
my end,
for manie were th' devices,
much
th' patience,
and long
houres giv'n to the work, so that

should
very
little
might bee
left unfinish't
my summons
morning.
come unexpectedly
It
at midnight, at noon, or at
eie single to
was done with an

your owne
your best good.
Here
is
no
in
strife after excellence of stile
and
diction,
but an
effort
interesse.
You
and
all
should joyne to this Entertaynment,
Panegyre,
the following Entertaynments in their naturall

B.
order.
A PANEGYRE.
There
keyes.
is
more Yirgil
here, but a part
is
Homer. Marke
BACON.
MASQUES.
In Essay Of Masques and Tryumphs you may much esteemed device mention'd. In my plays
longer heed.
see this
matters
are chosen not alone for value as a subject to heare and no
Each play
is
the meane, or th' medium, by
which cipher
least, serve a
histories are sent forth.
Thus
all will, at th'
twofold purpose, and in Homer's two mightie
workes
(as in Yirgill's) a trebble, for
we
treated all transla-
tions in th' first of our cipher
work
in a
manner very
like
IN MASQUES.
that
51
we followed
of parts.
in concealing our secret historic,

th'
but you
can see easily that
former are separated into a greater

o' th' stories
number
This was necessarie because
told in them, that could not be used in large porti'o's, in
Cypher writing.
pose,
as
ISTe'erthelesse
they serv'd well their pur-
which was
to
emploie this method of transmitting,
it is
my
invention, possessing th' nature of simple ques-
tioning and experiment,
and
to preserve
my
works.
I wish'd to have th' translations kept untill a future

race of men, or at th' least scholars of our
owne day
rathe^
then
th'
commoners, have mark' d, in

same, because
untill all th'
all th'
my open workes
under
different names, a certaine stile that shall prove their origin

to
be
th'
it
will bee impossible to deijypher
them fuUie
this is
works shall be conjoyn'd.

th' parts
When
th'
done and
keyes to put
together have
beene found, seeke

Bi-literall
th'
arguments which are given in

th'
Cypher, and
most of your
difficultie shal
bee
overcome.
Do
where
not turne backe untill
all th' secret histories shall
have been written, for you can find the true records no
else.
From
portio's o'
my
Cypher, secrets which the

to publish,
Queene suspected some one would attempt

bee work'd out with a measure of
perseverance.
difficulties,
life.
may
skill,
patient labour and

to avoid
Those who
shall turn
back meerely
should ever look to have none of the prizes of

:
Th' Holy Scripture saith

th'
Whoever putteth his hand

is
upon work
plough and looketh backe

is
not
fit
for th' heavthis
enly kingdome; nor

fit
he that turneth backe from
for th'
kingdome of knowledge.
i.
Th' work you here note,
e.,
th'
Masques, must bee

th' Iliads that
employ'd in writing whole portiones of

difficult to
were
adapt to moderne poetry or to stage plays. This
52

will, I
you
doubt not, see ere
this,
but
least it escape
your
attention I have mentioned

parts of th'
it
in this place
and in other
work.
If iterant rules should weary you

this: the
beyond endurance, pray remember

:
work
is
as a
first
circle with no apparent beginning those parts written
may
bee
last
found, therefore I repeat
all
these directions,
and, too, I would fain
make
easier th'
heavy taske impost

one end
on you, and
my greatest labour hath been to but

work
that of so ayding your part of th'

successe.
as should assure its
If once well understood th' chief requiring can
bee quickly seen to bee perseverance.

lesse
Of
this I
have not
neede myselfe then

all
my
decypherer, as this must be
done carefuly, and

as
hath beene at least twice written,
my cypher work or th' interior letters must have cov'ring.

is
Th' exterior part
so varied, so diverse in both matter

it
and
con-
methods of treatment, that

cealing a great
to
serveth
my purpose well,
th'
work yet
also revealing th' keyes design'd
open
th' secret portalls.
And
rules.
although
waye may
sometimes seem like an endlesse labyrinth, you cannot f aile

to thrid
it if
you heede
my
at
You
tasks
will finde as
you progresse that I have made your

first,
more pleasing then

is,
and remember, pray, that
your owne name

mine: therefore,
th'
or
must yet be, inseparably joyn'd with

to
if
honour cometh
me by my
wise use
o'
heav'n sent talents emploied in this invention, you must

It
is
share in th' renowne.
to
none other I may looke for

to
ayde to bring
my
work forth
It
men's
sight.
Your hand
may roll
set this
the stone
away from the door

is
of the sepulcher and

it
Cipher
free.
not dead
sleepeth, not for
four short dayes like Lazarus of old, but doubtlessly for

yeares, perhaps for, centuries.
Is it not then
an act deservfaile.
ing world-wide fame?
Trust
mee
it shall
not
but in
IN MASQUES.
53
every land in which the English language hath a place,

shall
it
be known and honoured.

already been said
As hath
Homer
(Iliads
and a great
of the
part of the Odysses) and Yirgil
(^neid and some

first
^glogues) were helpfull

which I
to
me when
this invention, of
am now
giving the historic, was at
emploied.
Finding that
toric
this
might be followed with ease in

us'd, I
my
his-
by a key that I
then followed a similar plan

it
respecting the whole, separating

these fragments after th^
into parts
all
and using
the workes
same manner in
(so calPd)
that I published in
others.
theirs,
my owne
name, or that of
sold
Spenser, Greene, Peele,
Marlowe have
upon
me
two,
am
or three others I have assumed
certaine
occasions such as this, beside th' one I beare
among men.
My
since I
owne should be
sonne to
like that of
my
mother
Tidder,
as her eldest
th' Queene who came of that line, and bom, should now sit in her throne in place of him whom she made her heire, according to Cecill's report; but as I am known among English speaking peoples by the name you (untill now) thought to be rightfully
mine,
i.
e.,
th'
name
of
my
foster parents
^yet
Bacon,
it
is
honourable and honored,

worthier, greater, and
have I vowed to make

either stile, then
it
more renowned
hath beene since
it
wâs first bestowed.
The voyce
of
Fame
should be as lowd as thunder,

for all
when
she doth speake of
me in comming years,
my labour,
inhabit.
looking toward the future, would bring our harvest-time
when our dayes

Shall not
it
are not
upon the sphere wee now
my
work endure while Homer's
doth, since
from
I have form'd here a beauteous casket, well-wrought,

set,
curiously joyn'd, with Jewells richly

gift,
for his pricelesse
no other having such beauty and worth?
Even
as

54
BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRAN'CIS BACON.
Alexander when he was given that rich and costly casket

o'
King
Darius,
his
commanded
that
it
bee reserv'd to hold
Homer,
furnisht
two bookes
the Illiads and the Odysses,
since he could think of nothing
more
precious.
This storie
me
a pretext
and suggested the plann which I

it
forthwith carried to perfection, and as I have said,
so
well serv'd the purposes of the great Ciphe' which I have
been teaching you that I have never regretted the experiment.
When th'
with Part
Masques
th'
in
my
friend
Ben Jonson's name

and Peele's workes
o'
King's Coronall Entertaynment have
been
entirely deciphered, take Greene's
in th' order giv'n in th' Faerie Queene.
My
plaies are
not yet
finisht,
but I intend to put forth severall soone.
However,
bi-literall
work requiring
is
so
much
time,
it
will
readily be scene that there
much
come
to doe after a
boake
doth seeme to bee ready for the presse, and I could not
well saye
will
when
other plays will
out.
The next volume
be under
W.
Shakespeare's name.
As some which
title
have now beene produced have borne upon the

his
page
it
name though
all
are
my owne
work, I have allow'd
to stand
on m^nie others which I myself e regard as equalL
in merite.
When
I have assum'd men's names, th' next
step
is
to create for each a stile naturall to th'
man
that
in
yet should [let]
my
owne bee
it
scene, as a thrid
o'
warpe
my
al,
entire fabricke soe that
may
be
all
mine.
if it
"End" may seem

vet
is
to
my
decyph'rer as
should bee
bv noe means
tinall.
F.
BACON.
IN SE JANUS.
55
SEJANUS.
Question, or some other form or
mamier
of inquiry,
and answer are your word-signs by which you

out
may worke
first
my
secret story herein co'cealed.

th'
This story concerns

realme,
of
all,
some of the chief personages of

our late despised parent,
ills
th'
cause and th' renewer
o' th^
that .we endured.
My
sole object doth appeare in this
later
work
the play of
t'
Sejanus.
I,
None know
unexampled
whose right
half so wêll as
th'
underplay carried
along in court in order

field,
secure
my
withdrawall from an
wherein a mother strove against a sonne
to the succession to th' throne she did ignore
and co'stantly avoid.
Her unbending steme temper,
strong in death, set the seal upon

past
life,
my
future as on
my
since her will
was
th'
law governing both.
My
owne
ill
spirit
alone doth atteste
the dicta of such a
how potent woman may bee.
for good or for
Here alone
Take
will
is
that long epistle to
my
to-bee decipherer
it
that must be most, observed in this worke. ^Seeke
out.
my keies my hidden
and unlocke
my
inner chamber.
There
secrets be revealed fully, that he that shal
willinglie lift the
heavy
vaile,
should
now ope
life, as
th' treasure-
casket which contains th' story of

late
my
well as
my
brother,
his
:
death.
It
is
ev'n with wrought-ores
thickly covered gems

in the small
rare and costive shine

will find
upon
its
sides
room within you
uncounted treasure,
riches
beyond your dreames of

shall
earthlie acquisition.
The
whole
be the reward of
my
decypherer and will repay

to this labour.
most generouslie his entire devotion
56
As
after
I have said, our
newe designe
shall give
much
pleas-
ure, while it so
amplie rewardeth the true worker.

is
Seeking
is
any learning
a pleasure; seeking after what

soe pure
hid-
den, a delight,
none
is
forever springing
up
in
fresh joy, as th' water of a

to th' light.
meadowe
spring gusheth forth
My
come
next work
not begun here:
much
of
it
shall
bee
found in
out.
th' playes o'
Shakespeare which have not yet

i^
We
our
having put forth a numbe' of plays
his
theatre, shall continue soe doing since

th' thrall to
will.
we doe make him

anie
Our name never accompanieth
play, but
it
frequently appeareth plainly in Cypher for
witty minds to translate from Latine and Greeke.

is
As
this
never seen, the secret
still
remained inside
is
its
treasure-
house unsought of every one. This
yet hidden as in dim

th'
shadowy
mists,
but soone shall you have the whole of

this great cypher-writing,
most worthy parts of
wrought
much more
finely then gold.
FRANCIS BACON.
NOTE The preceding five divisions were written by Bacon. Jonson was the author of the remaining works in the 1616 folio, but Bacon's Bi-literal Cipher Story was infolded in the Italic
printing, as explained in
what
follows.
IN
COMMENDATORY POEMS.
57
COMMENDATORY POEMS.
Reade some
plaies
by our Ben's
active
hand.
Whe'
more of our
plaies,
stories,
which had truly

it
fill'd all
of our chiefs
sought more room,
was almost more then penne of
one
man
could do to prepare such bookes,
much
less write
them
also.
Soone he, publishing
this
famous work, afforded
us this waie by which th' Bi-litterate

pherers
too
may
lead all our decipossiblie
from bookes manie a suspecting enimie may

note.
much
Seeke not our chief e of Cj^^hers
Cypher unfolded by this nowe in use

our play of Sejanus, for
date, that containeth
it is
th'
untill
you have found
that stage-play, one of earlie
much
of that translated
is
poeme wee
play of an
as
nam'd
that
it
as
having great value. It
spoken of more than once,

(storie, or a
be well imprest on the minde,
early day having no

it
charme for some
readers,)
insoemuch
seem'd a work not unworthy to be preserved.

to our
See that
oft
you give most carefull heede

without observing
is
numerous words,
occuri'g to give our patie't friend ayde,

all
and
let passe nothing
worthy
instructions.
Our
progresse
along a devious waye, and by divers quaint devices hath a

storie
wondrous
one
o' th*
the
storie ere this
time familiar to you as
nurserie tales
It
is
wee heard
in our childhood
beene
related.
the storie of our owne birth and parentage,
which must be given to other ages.

FR. FIRST of
ENGLAND.
Puny little mindes, th' type most familiar to us, take much delight in talke. Th' surer methode to secure attentive ears
is
to
put his writen works in such a peculiar, or

it
secret form,
that
wakeneth
th'
curious to seeke the'
58

Whilst I do not
'tis
wherever they should have beene hidden.

i'tend to put
my
Heaven-bestow'd powers on this plane,
true that I have noething in

[it] is
comon with vulgar mindes,

it
that
our wish to have our words heard, nor should

it is
bee
tho't vanitie since
not alone that I wish fame amongst I desire that the time to come
humankind, in such thinges.
should correct the errors of the unfortunate present, hut
more I doe not hope
to winne.
It
is
to
you I
trust.
Y'r Serva't
FR. BACON.
THE FOX.
(BEN JONSON'S CIPHER LETTER.)
Few eyes,
unassisted, will take proper note of a Cipher in
my
not.
dedicatory prsef atio, intended onely to
make more room
well adapted to guard thinges secret, whether
my
mater or
nor
My v/rongs,
besides,
may not look to distant dayes,
to a land in mid-sea
if th' Atlantis be fo'nd

its
for
redresse;
a just sentence
from our owne countrey,
scholars, is
my
great desire.
But
my
friend,
by whose constantly urged request I use
so secret a
way
of addressing the decypherer to aid
him
in a
is
difficult task, trusteth all to
the future, and a land that
very far towards
th' sunset gate.
To speake more
clearly,
I write to ayde
fame
in heart
my friend with whom I, having, in truth, his as much as my honour and dignitie, often
way by which hee
counselled much, but could devise no
should winne his throne and scepter.

It shall bee noted, indeed,
when you uncover his stile, my

for I shall
fro' Sir F.
works do not
all
come from mine owne penne,
name
his
to
you some plays that came forth
Bacon,
worthy hand, or head, I bein' but the masque behind
IN
THE
FOX.
59
which he was surely

drama, and
hid.
Th' play entitled Sejanus was his
th' King's,
Queene's, Prince's Entertainments;

his, as also th' short
the Queene's Masques are
Panegyre.
Heerein you see the names hee used
to pointe the
way to the
into
various workes, but I use no signes to bring

notice.
them more
th'
When
you
have
Avill
you looke
not
let his
cursorilie over
our part of
volume,
names escape your
eye, but will seeke
such plays hoping to finde the Cypher.

this use.
]âmes like these
Fame
or Glorie, Keputation, Fortune,

scatter' d in
Naany
ture, Arte,
Time, Truth and Honour, when
of our workes say to you,

eyes," for
'Took for things hid from most

in his
wee thus ayded
Cypher worke.
'
*^
Yo'rs most dutifully,
BEN JONSON.
This plaie Avas borowed.
after matters
I could work to turne seekers,
which were hidden, into
my
othe' fieldes
and
thus cause them to loose the s'ent.

so freely strewn
Th' instructions I have
throughout
my
work must give
my
ready
decypherer sufficient ayde, as I doubt not his eie hath, ere

his lesson could be learned,
caught such signes as were
named by my
friend,
Ben
Jonson, in his dedication of th'

It is that I
work, and hath well guess'd a purpose therby.
may
write out
my sad
secret,
life
and give
a compleat history of
our owne land in the

call'd
and raigne of
that of
o'
my mother,
the so-
Mayden Queene; with
my
father, th' Earle o'
Leicester;
tions of
my brother, th' Earle my owne story that are
Essex; and diverse por-
important as parts of this
secret storie.
This must not be lightly pass'd, since you
wish
t'
get a true recitall of most deepe and dangerous mat-
ter, told as
you could not
finde
it
elsewhere.
60

It
were a man both bolde and foolhardy that should

require th lesse boldnesse and
it
write, or publish, in his time such dangerous truth, yet, thus
disgufd,
it
more perseverance;
mine
for I grant
seemeth most wearisome worke in cyphering as
in discyphering, yea tedious, but necessarie, during
early youth and manhood, to protecte
my
(v) life
from a
thousand threatning calamities,
as
no doubt you know, havSurely,

if it
ing followed our mazie Cypher.

wise, I should be
lost labours if
were otherThese are
working
to
noe end or purpose.
my histories be not found.

th'
This containes
of one part
o'
abridgement and a number of keyes

o'
that history
Robert Dudley,
my
father, not
included in the play spoken of in diverse othe'

character was not understood
letters.
His
by those with
whom
his lot
was
caste, for
hee had more than one closely guarded secret
as shall
bee scene in time.
His true motif in many subseth'
quent
acts,
may
be found in
premises
unknowne
to th'
writers of our day.

It
is,
I doubt not, well
remembred
that hee sufPer'd im-
prisonment because he was in a measure concern'd in the

attempt to enthrone Lady Jane Grey
releas'd, his
;
yet,
being at length
sun of prosperity rose high, for his union with
Elizabeth, afterward queene,
dome, next to
this royal spouse.
made him first in this kingBut not being acknowl-
edg'd such, publicklie, nor sharing in her honours,
my
poor
father was but a cypher, albeit standing where he should

multiplie th' valew of that one.
A suspicion was generall that th' death that overtooke his

sweet
Avife
could be laid to his charge.
Aye, a treacherous
stairwaye betraid her step, falling beneath lightsome

foot, cast her violently
Amy's
on the paling belowe, and the tidings
of her demise was not altogether newes to one whose minde
IN
THE FOX.
To
61
was too eager to heare
it.
divert curious questioning
from the
necessity.
royall union,
many
shiftes
and turnings were a
For
th' space o'
nineteene or twentie yeares,
my
father,
gay court-idole as he was, guarded his secret and basked in

the sunshine of royall favour.
By degrees he was giv'n title

minde better then would the
and
stile
suiting soe vayne a
weight of governement, were that conferred on him.
Hee
was
first
made Master
of th' Horse; this gave
him
controule
of th' stables,
and gave him such place in
th' royall proces-
sions as he very truly desired, next
Her
Majestic; also, she
conferr'd
upon him the Order of the Garter, and diverse

be done. Her Majesty, most like
other markes of favour, whilst to beare out their stage-play

untill their parts should
some loud player, proclaimed Baron Dudley, Earle of

Leicester, suitor to
Mary Queene
of Scots, and at
all
*ad-
monitory protests which the haried husband uttered, this
waieward Queene went on more

Therefore
recklesslie.
vantage of
we must marvell to see him later claime adHer Majestie's bold moode to take another partfitly
ner to his bosome, rightly divining that she would not shewe
cause
why such an union could not be
considered or con-
sumated, but venturing not upon full confession thereof.
However, Her Ma. dwelt not for long in ignoble
inactio'
the force that she gave to her angry denunciation affrighting

th' wits of this
poor earle, untill he was againe turning over

rivall.
expedientes to rid her of this
Suspicion againe fel on
the misguided man, of seeking to murther th' partner of his

joyes, but
Heaven brought
this act end.
his
owne doome suddenly upon
him.
So doth
Silent
Woman.
62
My
mother was nearlie distracted with grief e, remorse,

space.
and despaire for a

her heart and gave
th'
Upon my
brother, his returne, to
take the favorite's place, she bent on Essex th' fonder love of
much
gracious attention to his honor and
furtherance of her designes regarding him.
Indeed,
much harm was wrought to
others then themselves, for great
the court scandall regarding love messages betwixt them, as
though they had bin mindfull onely
o' pleasure, so
it,
that th'
lords of her councill wink'd visiblie at
least it enter at
their eies; for 'twas dangerous for anie onlookers if the eye-
sight were keene

'^Th'
and saw behind those masques.

I
men, to-day are too nigh for good sight, but my faith
to write
it
was formally pledg'd
as I believ'd
it,
may
say,
knew it, not blenching nor omitting

hath beene
said,
th' sinne of either.
As
upo'
my
lord of Essex presum'd too
much
lesse
secret liking,
and in a short time found himself e
hon-
or'd then crost or chided.

see
Should we, therfore, marvell to

chaft, geniall
him haughtie and overbearing when
and
gen'rous
when smooth'd? nor

and imagining that
so
much
as doubt this swift

effect
change upp and down of

his spirit?
his fortune
had much
were
upon
his footing
th'
secure, fell
from
safetie into great
danger as
astronomer
who was
gazing on th' heaven to study the
stars, fell into
the water ?
But
doth
his historic
is
contained in various other workes, nor
my deciph'rer neede furder ayde then hath beene thus provided, to inable him to write, by meanes of my other great Cypher. Take courage, I pray thee, and continue my prolong'd writings that my Cypher relating most important
thinges shall come
t'
th' birth, for it
can avayle us nought
while lying conceal'd.
But
to
go on.
The
Alchemist.
IN
THE FOX.
63
Her
sider.
Majestie soone had matters of great importe to con-
Events crowded verie close upon the preceding, and
whilst a lion watcht in strong holds, foxes spoil' d the grapes,

as in
former ôns, according to
tradition.
Th' Armado had come and gone,
dispersed
partly
through
through
th'
readie action of England's seamen, partlie
th'
tempest
o'
th'
flood,
but Catholick Spayne
needed
still
a warines, subtle, sleeplesse.
Many
th'
o' th'
olde
faith, as it
o' th'
was then
stil'd,
remayn'd in different portions
countrie;
these, yet smarting

th'
under
to
blowe to
th'
hope of restoring
th'
Church
o'
Kome
supremacy that
execution
o'
Mary
but
of Scots gave them, were not at heart

spirit
good
subjects,
th'
and daring that Elizabeth
shewed, had
effect.
With her oreweening

stro'g hatred of warre,
passion of vanitie, was mingled a
and wish
to outcraft th'
enemies
or in
of a roial government whose head was a
woman,
common
speech, not of the ablest sexe.
Events duelie
sanction'd a claime to th' heart of Henry, her grandsire;
for Henry, the

line o' kings of
Tudor who most upheld

which hee was
things.
first,
th'
glory
o'
that
was a mirrour to
my
mother in divers
This history
is
contain'd in some stage plays that
came
out in Shakespeare's name.

of like
stile,
Ere long there will be many

This should make
stiles
purpose and scope added thereto, which shall

th'
both ayd and instruct you in

it
work.
cleare, e. g. *sixty stage-plays
which, in varyi'g
that
are contrary to
my owne
well
known
stile
of expression,
whylst for more of our lighter work, an impenetrable mask,

for a history,
much
too varied; hence these great plays
have bin devis'd which, being similar, often held this inne'
history
therein
unsuspected.
This wo'drously
co'ceal'd
Catiline.
64

sheweth how history repeateth
itselfe,
story, therefore,
and
simplie shifting the scenes doth bring in

th'
new
actors to take
same parts
soe,
where the names only being altered
caus-
eth somewhat of doubt within you, paie no heed

of such sorte, for
is
it
to counsels
shall soone be
made manifest
that this
th' universall, unalterable, and undeviating lawe, and
all
must yielde
to its
governement.
All are borne and

parts,
all
die;
though each must play many

that
is
he findeth noe
his
part
his
alone.
In wise Salomon
words:
have,
it
^'There's nothing
new
may
be, acted this
part my proud mother play'd
'neath the sunne."
Many
^fewe so
successfullie.
Goe
to Jonson, his spicy poemes,
caFd Epigrammes that

th' sev'rall keies or
folow where, perhaps ^seeing herein

guide-words you wil thinke these
my
worke, but as
my
friend said in his most pleasing epistle,

here,
when they come
my
decypherer will knowe
that he should expect
many key-words and

entituled
shpuld go from this final work [to one]
Humour. PaBse The first shall to Cynthia's Revells and th' Poetaster. bee last, as you have scene ere now when studying th' Holy
by him Every
out of His
Scripture.
Man
Your keyes
cesse,
are
Earle, Lord, Leicester,
Ayme
death,
train,
Eobsart,
Prin-
tyne, report, marrie, othe, priest, Elizabeth,
Mayden
Virgin
art,
Queene,
'
hatred,
remorse,
falling,
artfull,
treachery,
amazement, court, feare,
shame, jalousie, anger,
triall, suspition, favorit,
Mary, Scot-
land, Prance, Ireland, Spanish, Infanta, Philip, Spaine,
Master
sellor,
o'
Her
Majestie's Horse, Order of th' Garter, coun-
Ayrshire, London,
Flanders,
commander, Dover,
"Epigrams.
IN
L.
THE FOX.
65
Duke Alva, Parma, *Queene-mother,

wrong
loves.
Paris, French, gal-
lantry, courage, glosse, fate, deathless, marriage, fury, poyson, sacke, intent,
*Make
to
th'
keyes thus nam'd in Th' Forrest, your guides
sundry othe' parts of
my play
may
then have generally beene
put out, for while I thus
hide aides, keies, or abridg-
ments, I feel no feare of discovery and proceed calmlie.
Witts that be so sharpe and keene that our foxe having
none other covert might come suddenlie

the device here adopted fayle to s'ent
to griefe, shall
by
in
it.
Yet
are
we
good hope that
my
it
faithful interpreter will understand

forth, but the play shall not bee us'd
it
how hee
shall bring
except for directions in Bi-letter Cyphar (because
hath
but that Cyphar) being from
my
friend, his
if
worthy penne.
You have decyphered

turnes.
it
already
you have foUow'd our
I have
little
myselfe to do except give directio' unto

writi'gs being chiefly sent foorth at this
your work,
my
time which bee readie for printing.

of
How
soon
my
story
my owne
known
life shall
lack but obit, I
know
not.
Manie
others are compleated, as I think must, out of doubt, bee
well
to
you
th'
most that our endeavors could, by

put forth.
consta't, tirelesse labours
Yet hath
my
plann
many worthy
pleat in
things of accompt, or of mark, yet to comvarious,
my
and dayly growing
fields.
But no
doubt a part must be put upo' hands that we trained to our
work but by
a patient reiteration,
much
like our instructor's
in th' elementary learning of our childhoode.
Time must bee
carefullie hoarded
by one who would use
a Cypher in his publisht works, for his labour, multiplying

The Forrest.
*Every
Man Out
of His
Humor.
66

spirit
thereby from once writing to two or three, tryeth the

sorelie,
and requireth soe much

it
leasure, that
fewe would
pursue
soe long as I have done,
and fewe have soe great
cause, as
you know.
yet I have also emploied
And
hath
my
Cyphers for other
then secret matters in
now become
so
many of my later bookes, because it much an act of habite, I am at a losse

lesse dificile labour,
at this present,
having
now, then in
is
former times in Her Ma.'s

(for
service.
My
owne study
not
my
Cyphar writings) omitted, and

se, is
lesse estimated,
but
most diligent work, I
ever delightful for mankinde
and
their benefit.
The
little,
lacke of
my
just
honour and dignity oppresseth

set
if
my
minde be constantly
upon others besides
myselfe, nor can any pow'r but th' Divine

heart happie or sad.
make man's
"Minde
is
the true kingdome, ever,'*
in the words of the song
my friend
quoteth most aptly, and

greatnesse therein,
my
constant hope
as
is
to atchieve as
much
and win
much
honour, as would belong to
me by
right of
my
greater birth,
pow'r or desert,
then
as th' wôrld
is
maketh
its
accompt of
surely
supposed mine.
You
must
know
am by
right of bloud. King,
no
other then th'
true, right or proper inheritour o' th'
Crowne.
am
per-
suaded one
who
should work soe patiently, hath found
manie
a revelation.
As unto myselfe,
I have layd
planne open herein, and as shall bee scene, spare

not at
all,
my every my pride
would
in relating the story.
Polity, doubtlesse,
this,
counsell the suppression of
some of
but
it
suiteth
mee
to put thoughts as freely heere as I
would inscribe them
in a private booke noe eye but this
might reade.
In order to conceale
my
Cypher more perfectly I am
preparing for th' purpose a sette of alphabets in th' Latine
IN
tipe,
THE FOX.
67
not for use in th' greatest or lengthy story or epistle,

for, in
but as another disguise,

fatio,
ensample, a prologue,
prse-
the epilogues, and head-lines attracted *too

I,
much
mine
notice.
therefore, have given
much
trouble to
cyders by making two kinds or formes of these
letters.
These bee not designed for other use then hath but now
beene explain'd, nor must you looke to see them employed
if
a reason for th' change appeare, but there will be warn-
ing given you for your instruction or guidance.
Koe
othe'
waie of diverting
exteriour epistle
is
th'
curious could be used where th'

it
but briefe, however

is
will not thus
turne aside
my
decypherer, for his eye
too well practised
in artes that easily misleade others
who
enquire of th' waye.
If I deceive your hope and leade

flitting vision o'
you on
to pursue a
fame, fortune, and great delight,

th'
may
th'
whole injury bee mine, for

yet I cannot beleeve
already bin us'd
vaine.
hope and desire are mine;
my
noble invention, which hath
many
yeares, shall proove valuelesse or
I am, in very truth, confident of

o'
my
dues of honor
in the course
time, and that shall bee shared with
my
I
decypherer.
Can he
say this
is
nought and laugh
at it?
thinke not, nor can hee say that I have any other objecte
in view, or other motive then to give a corrected history
of
my times,
albeit
my owne is more
changed by
my recital
features
then any othe' save Her Majestic, her story.

'Tis just that the vayle bee torne
from
th'
admired
so long, to expose her true character to all th' world.
Yet I make
that
it
inquirie of you,
who hath
o'
a penne soe perfect

evill?
could shew th' colours

is
good and
Onlie
one who
th'
gifted with
more then common wisedome, but
hand
so
guided worketh out lines as doth inspired pennes.
"Cynthia's Revels.
68

sit
Surelie a sonne doth

to limne truely.
close at
hand and should
se clearly
This I
know
I have accomplisht, nor
glozed, nor blench' d in

rathe'
my
accompt, although wider, or
more searching
lookes, sliew'd
mee
tha' undercur-
rant, stronger ev'n then vanity,

will,
partly
Tudor strength of
that
and partly her owne

as fate,
selfe-love,
all
moved on
as
resistlesslie
bearing
before th'
unsuspected
force.
This
it
was, altho' soe well disguis'd, that kept

th'
me from
soe farre
my
crowne, and as
days and moneths wore towards th'
close o' life, her desires master'd her
wisedome
that shee did meditate
naming
my
brother successor;
but
his attempt to snatch this prize did thwart alike her hope,
and
his, at forfeit of his life.
All joys died with Essex in both our bosomes; for her,
all
peace, as well, and she declin'd toward her
owne end
most to
from daie
to day, visiblie, even while she stroove
hide her weakenesse.
Some, doubtlesse, suppos'd that some

wtis arous'd respecting
spirit of justice
it
her owne right, and beleev'd that

th' choice of
manifested
itself e
very plainly in
Mary's sonne
to succeed her, but I
know
th'
that her strong othe concerning
mee, the
then
all
reall
heyre to
else.
kingdome, had greater waight

still
things
It
was
most constantly in her

th' Scripture, so that,
minde, more perhaps, or as much, as

as
Ben Jonson
me.
saith, she
made
it
her religion ^to doe injury
to
Yet have I accomplisht much by most thorough manner

and unceasing appliance of time.
But
in
Cypher
writi'g,
you know
well, nothing can
be accounted finished whylst
*The Poetaster.
IN
THE FOX.
69
anie Cypher historie bee inco'pleat.
My
grande Cyphre
prooveth true, but
tli'
work
is
heavie.
Much
a
doth
still
remayne
to build
up into a new forme
new
edifice
but
having exercised patience

for so
and most
ceaslese perseverance
manie yeares,
'tis
not probable that I shall

parts be left
but I dread
finall exit,
least too
many
now falter; when I make the
and mar the whole.
Of that none but the Divine
Kuler knoweth.
Noe hand
epistles,
save this could carry out
my
dessein,
and con-
clude so well both th' Cyphe' narrations and the exteriour

yet are the secret letters soe divided
th' story that
when
assorted,
no one would see
had not the Cypher key.
Very
little,
the care this causeth me.

called dread as to the
My
feares
growe
from that which I

Th' time
is still
end of the work.
in
minde when
my
thoughts had no rest
in th' hours o' idlenes lest
out
my
secret.
Shee
is
Her Majestic, my mother, finde now gone to that undiscover'd

from her hand, but death
shall
dis-
country from whose borne no traveller returnes; nor feare
nor hope
is left
me
of ought
not burie this that her
life conceal'd.
Th' truth here
cover'd must live in ev'ry age, for a Eighteous
Judge doth
pronounce
to
this sentence irrevocably.

if
'Tis simple justice
her spouse and her two heyres,
too tardie to availe

like
ought.
is
But your recompence should be

say,
my owne,
that
to
honor.
Kone,
if
due you by following our

so deprive
Cypher, will come short.

that, hence, for
No man may
from
th'
you of
your owne sake we trust that your strength

bookes
and
patie'ce shall continu' until

this
we
leave,
you work out
gem
of stored truth, most like a worker
in th' earth's hidden

see the treasure.
mines
as
you put down your bar you
70

Severall comedies, which be
now
titles
strangers, as
might be
said,
bearing at th' most such
'mongst the plaiers as
they would remember, but

it
th' author's
name
e.
in disguise, if
bee seen at
all, will,
as soone as
may
be found toward and

i.
propitious, be publisht
by Shakespeare,
in his name,
having masqued thus manie of the best plaies that wee
have beene able to produce.
To
these
wee
are steadilie
making
year.
additions, writing
from two
to six stage plays every
With
th'
state
duty
latelie
devolved on us this
is
seemeth surely a great taske, since as

decypherer, th' Cyphers must be
first
knowne
to our
divided, (put out so
fragmentary, soe well scatter'd that no such purpose be
dreamt
i.
of),
and when
being
set
all is
prepared, this Bi-literall part

into
e.
as it is
up
must pass
th'
no scrutiny but
mine.
Th' great prease of these labours doth take from one,

as
must be undertaken,
which
is
required leysure for correc-
tions
doubly noted herein.
In some places the
reader will not find

tions, in others
'tis
hardlie
much hindrance from such obstrucwonne; yet we take heart since

is
we
assure ourself th' decyph'rer's eye
ever soe keene,
he shall let noe simple errour blind him.

important parts
And
many
is
though
a time,
may
be frequently, aye
repeated, hee shall acknowledge our device
as truly
waie to transcend small works as writing

doth farre outgo history.
th' usual
dramas
As one
writi'g the true story

ISTox,
must throw
our
all
dread and feare into
her gloomie for-
getfullnes, this
Cypher
is
as a strong guard, its meandri'gs
safetie, so shutti'g
out harassing inquirers.
SIR
F. B.
IN
THE FOX.
this tale
its
71
*At our
father's
most emest request
must be
made very
place.
full, so that
no reader could doubt
true design.
Other thinges, noe matter how great, or
vast,
must yield
Yet
it
was his wish to have
it
told ope'lie in our
books.
That wee hold imprudent.
Th' decipherer hath no

th'
grave task.
in hand.
N'o more must he decypher after

It is
play
now
not,
my
work noe furder then doth concern

which have, I doubt
having soe oft beene spoken of
alphabets, excepting those portions
beene found long ere

in
this,
manie of
my
epistles.
if writ-
Th' Cyphe' therein contained hath great worth

ten out, but like th' treasure in f am'd
little
mines
it
o' distante isles,
can
its
valew be knowne whilst
lyeth hidden.
Where manie
authours receive the reward of their applica'tis
tion at once, ours awaits man's future; but
th'
future
of time, and posterity
must make
just
amends for our present
want.
th'
The future peoples

saith
:
of a distant shore will prove true

is
word which
"A man
not without honour save
in his
owne countrey,"
since they be true, to-day, here,
for us
who
dwell where th' Divine footsteps have nere trod,
as they
were sixteene hundred yeares ago in Palestine^

FR. BACO'.
Wee
awaite that day.
*Every
man
in his
humor.
SHAKESPEARE QUARTOS.
RICHARD THE SECOND.
1615.
Winne
honest rewardes in the praise

in onr voyce,
all
o'
yonr generation sonnd
by greeting them
and
like a sweete violl,
such musicke that
shal recognise the

all
hand that made of

Sweete
lines
olden time, musicke that
men found
good.
of our ever new poeme, Faerie Queenej fresh in their minds

still rest,
and when these
in
new forme come
out from the
shelte' of
prises.
our exteriour workes, they afforde pleasant sur-
The same
charme
is
is
noted in respect of
all
works, and the pleasant
such as doth come in
th'
dance on removi'g the
masque wh'ch hath concealed
a face that
we
love.
We lose
is
remembrances unreal, fantasies and a strangenesse (even

where wee bee most sensible that onely the
and we welcome the familiar
epistle
shell
altered)
features.
Sometimes
is
th' secret
seemeth a harsh note and jarreth; discord

is it all
sodainely
thund'red forth, yet
necesary,
if
truth
is
to
be seen
and understood.
"VVel
knowing how rude some notes
shall sound, f aine wdll
our musike, wrought soe
silentlie, ofte resou'd
one stra'gly
sweete straine of one our early fancy,
pai'ting not
what we
knew, but ev'ry winsome grace, or proud yet gentle motion

of
lilie
hand or
daintily tripping foot,
divine
heavenly Marguerite, Queene

r
long worshipt
as
of Nâvarre. So ghall
the ruder jar, slightly lessened, sound almost harmonious.

78
IN
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

story, or this
73
Soe also shall the disclosed

of secret working at Court,
shall bee reveal'd that
broken accompte
come
to bee
knowne.
F. B.
A truth
OR
T.
much wrongeth
us.
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

1619.
Write out the Graves Inne

our Cyphar in one
set of playes
epistle
and by following
not yet put out, there, hid
with a penetrable masqueing device, a great number of

secrets
may
be learn'd which are not elsewhere fullie
told.
The
to
secret carried, utterly reverseth the
common
opinion
at present currant,
though some do know Queene Elizabeth
have wedded.
Ere
she,
coming
to th' throne like
an imperiall Tudor,
in every
word
that she let fall at the councell board,

i'
might
hold these idole, subtile whispers
leash, there
were many
rumors
as it will
be in truth prov'd, passing quicklie from
tongue to tongue.
By
undulie bandying about a ring
as
one might say
to speak lightly, since our observing search fi'deth
nought
that could not bee said to ende at the same place at which
it
may have
started
^there
hath bin strange proof that
maids put their

libertie of th'
lives in
numberlesse jeopardies, buying

th'
thoughts or
tongue with losse of liberty
of the bodie; or that men, ev'n,
when some
strong drinke
loos'd propper controllment of th'
member, thorow rash
speech, were reft sodainelie of lands and treasure [and] paid
penalty to th' hight of her owne plesure.
There needed no other pretexte were

the noble no
this offender
lowly
waye was advantag'd
eyther.
Sundrie were
never in any case wanting to shewe her
th' safe
waye
to
74

will.
her
Among
th'
com'ons
it
is
sayd, in great feare,

o'
more simple mindes sustayned

perill as did
th'
shocke at suck time

it
a very
control
may be thought binding oath made on th' Sacred Word could so trulie garruUous tongues, and that of the common
unhinge stronger ones, and
rank example might have bin foufid necessary.

say this was the case.
in
It is told
We
must
for truth, to our belief
many such
cases the racke
was
us'd,
and one man suffered
th' losse of th' offending
member for
his word.
BACON.
THE WHOLE CONTENTION BETWEENE THE HOUSES OF YORK AND LANCASTER.

1619.
Like
ill
thought, fly curses, and doe not light,
when
causeles, to
do injury.
In
this
just judgement, or right dealing,
doe we see onelie simple, when we waigh the clayme
of divine birthright to an exercise proper and right of a
man's owne
will.
When
ill
succes with one most aspiring ambition, not
yet likely or I
might say ev'n possible
o'
that degree of
fullfilme't I desire, followed
upon my first serious differences and subsequent open rupture with our mother, I tooke counwith one, who, tho' not an oracle, possest wisedom that
lacke, that
is,
sel!
most
wisedome for himselfe.
Hee bad me
call
manifest no f eare of curses such as anger shall oft

yet cannot governe.
downe
We may
shudder at a dreadf ull winged

life.
word, but
it
cannot doe harme to our

deserv'd
Qu.
E.,
who
more honour
as a
wife then could
otherwise come to her,
who
should, followîng Cornelia,
her gracious yet solemne ensample and worthie wôrd, have

helde her sonnes as precious even as England's costliest
IN
THE WHOLE CONTENTION.
75
gemmes, was much moy'd by

aside her wrath ere
it
my rash
interference to turne
had blasted utterly the f ayre flowret
on
whom
it fell,
yclipt
me
every dred
bitterly.
could speake and cursed
mee
name her tongue? Manie say it still

*
doth work
me
harme.
This cannot be true, inasmuch as I
am innocuous of any premeditated ill to Elizabeth.

That
this shall
bee such true historic that
it shall
be
worthy of preservacion, I have not blench'd ought howsoever
much
it
may
irk mee, or wearie those

it
who
read
it,
but some of
it
I would I could forget after
hath bene
set
downe.
I cannot, as one that would write the evill with
such plaine and hideous feature, th' sight shall turne pure
eyes from
it,
narrate this in wordes lesse strong.

its
A
shall
truth cannot well chose
outside apparell, but
it
wear unsullied
robes.
Th^ great Cipher shal contain
most important matters that will not elsewhere bee found,

because this king
is
nothing lacking in diligence to suppres
any printing that would acquaynt very youthfuU yeomen

with this strange clayme
strange
since
he who thus
demanded
Tower.
It
is
right
was sonne to the Queene,
th' first to blesse
her union with Robert Dudley whilst a prisoner in the
well
knowne
at
home and abroad
that England's
yeomanrie, informed that England's lawful Prince walk'd
humblie without his crowne, would joine in one mightie

force that he be enthronized.
This it is which now maketh me assured it had bene much to advantage me, if my claime had th' sturdy yeomen, their support. The commons, in such a cause, can, I have
no doubt, ayde or advance one farre more then a forraine

royalty, or this nobilitie, if once these matters shall be wel
understood
so that the wish to leav'n th' stout youths of
76
our land in western and

vastly gaini'g strength,
to interesse, in plays,
if th'
many
northern country towns
is
and many workes have bene plann'd
men who can

th' epistles
get
-little
else.
Yet
times yield
of this
them noe one
that shall interprete to
some
number,
within the huske, I can

start.
nere reach their minde's, or rouse them for this
Some would yeeld
his cause sooner, or aske

this,
ayde in a
lande removed far from
yet I have turned to
my
long
estranged yet wholy honest peopl' that I
may come
to the
power.
Watching
put forth
th'
storms but saying no unmeani'g word, I

It
my
secret letters.
may
bee noe eie will note,
no hand will ayde
if this
be true I die and make no signe.
If a Divine Pow'r intend noe ayde, I can only look
forward towards the future.
It shall thus perchance, some-
what content
my
heart at that farre off day that those
who
dwel on the globe
may
fully learn
how
great
is th'
wrong
turbulent K-obt. did by thus endang'ring as well a worthy
and devoted friend and a loving brother

rous'd
to
to
strange, I fay], bold designe, since 'twas this
worke out a which sudenly
Her Majesty
evill
this,
to hatred or jealousie great as th'
mind
a
which that
demon came.
The
sail
events that follow'd
prooved
but I could onlie

lest the
in th' waters
all
when
milde wind blew,
sodaine wracke of
my cherish'd
root of th'
dreames might
worser
evills
fill
my
heart with en vie
the
that become our portio' at our birth.

th'
Th' renew'd maidenlike pretence made mee know

intent
held by this vayne-minded, selfe-loving
woman.
Daily, a sonne with proud
humour mirrour'd her best graces,
but shee was nere mov'd to retract a single wrathful oath

or yield a
word
o'
it
approvall, be
my
deservi'g whatsoever
and whensoeever
might.
This continued estrangement
IN PERICLES.
77
wore on or increased.
so profound
At
last
she fell into a mela'colia
none conld rouse

a
her.
This was more unforas I spake
tunate for
of,
mee then
most mark'd resolve such

oft
for a
whim may
be removed and banished, but

'
mania
trulie
is difficile
to controll, else
my
most able powers had
shewn men what both equally desired

rise,
that height
to
which England should
ruled by a kind, wise king.
FRANCIS OP
E.
PERICLES.
1619.
When
this
and various
plaies
put out in diverse names
have bin joined, you
shall finde that I
am the
authour that
is
inasquing his work thus, that a secret, ay a perilou'
historie,,
may
if
bee written in better form then I could well employ

all
I wished to speak so plain e that

voyce.
might heare and know
my
For
All
men who
write stage-playes are
this reason
none
say,
h^d in co'tempte^ "How strange," when a plaie

name by which
cometh, accompanied with gold, asking a
one puting
it
forward shall not bee recognised, or thought

its
to bee cognisant of
stories
th'
existence.
For
this cause, if rare
must have
any man,
a hidi'g, noe other could be so safe, for
men who had won
gold in any
way
did not readily
acquaint
least o' these a stranger,

-,
with his source
of wealth as
you may well understand.

o'
For space
many
long yeeres therefore I have cent'red

as
my
yet
thought and giv'n
much
of
my
time as th'
calls
of
our businesses do permit.

it
My motive some might question,,
seemeth to mee a worthie and right one to be giv'n
waie,
my
wishes or plans being myracles to some' slighte
78
degree, th' great thought
comming
to
me
in th' silente
life at
night
vigils.
For a youth could

aside.
o'
see his
whole
word turn'd
As
by
a stream soe often, out
wild mou'tayn gorg rising,
carry'd thro' a
meade
in bounds that have bin set, or trameld
devices, doth lose its spirit, so hee felt his hart
change
in his breast.
bolt th' truth
There was a momente when
as
by a thunde'must deliver
was hurtled forth in soe hard, stem, unbending

;
waye it shockt young minds

a cry of sorrow
and sensible
is
souls
when
wound
wa'tonlie inflicted.
In
doe
my plaies,
and
therefore, I have tossed
my f eeli'gs as they
way.
Observe,
roll
swell, or hurtle along their
tho' 'twas th' seco'd daughter of
Henri the Eight was

hart
my
mother, these things do bring

never, in a f arre time, bee
my
many
a f eare I shal
FRANCIS THE FIRST OF ENGLAND.
YORKSHIRE TRAGEDY.
ED.
1619.
This play should joine our othe' playes

of Cyphres, or
o' all artes
if
our greatest
be found.
These must be sought
v/here wee previously directed you, and by noe meanes
must
th'
work bee layd by,
tho' so tiresome
'tis
sometimes
lesse pleasure to followe with co'stancie, then to take up as
occasion and liking shall serve.
But
so great
is th'*
importance that
may
attach to seem-
ingly small incidents, this history should not bee pass'd
over by one seeking the true and ungloz'd story as seldome

related ene unto
bosom
friends.
In no part be
faithles
and
rash.
FR. BACON.
IN
ROMEO AND
JULIET.
ROMEO AND JULIET. WITHOUT DATE.

Since th' former issue of this play, very seldome heard
without
plaudite
most stormie weeping
we have
life
you'
poets
commonest
al
but determined on folowing the forles
tunes of thes ill-fated lovers by a path
thorny.
Their
partlie
was too briefe
its
rose of pleasure
had but
drunk the sweete dewe
o'
early delight,
and evrie
hour had begun to ope unto sweete
love, tender leaflets
in whose fragrance was assurance of untold joies that th'
immortalls know.
Yet
'tis
a kinde fate
which joyn'd them
together in life and in death.

It
was a sadder fate befel our youthful!

it
love,
my
Mar-
guerite, yet written out in the plays
scarce
would bee
life.
named our
it
tragedie since neither yeelded
up
But
the joy of life ebb'd from our hearts with our parting, and
never came againe into this bosome in full
flood-tide.
O we
is
were Fortune's foole too long, sweete one, and arte
long.
This stage-play in part will

part
is
tell
our briefe love
tale,
in the play previously nam'd or mentioned as having
therein one pretty scene, acted
by the two.
it
So rare (and
most briefe)
th'
hard-won happinesse,
all
afforded us great
content to relive in th' play
that as mist in
th'
summer
con-
morni'g did roule away.
It
hath place in
dramas
taining a scene and theame of this nature, since our fond

love interpreted th' harts
of heaven
o' others,
and in
this joy, th' joy
was
faintlie guess'd.
Farre from angelique tho'
man
his nature, if his love
bee as cleare or as fine as our love for a lovely

as a rose
woman
(sweet
all
and
as
thorny
it
might chance)
it
sweet'neth
80

waste into lovely
th' enclosure of his brest, oft cliangeing a
gardens, which th' angels

uplifts our life
would fayne
seeke.
That
it
soe
who would
ere question.
Jôt
he,
our
o'
friend and good adviser,

these hidd'n epistles, Sir
It
is
knowne
"Eô
to all decyph'ring
any
sometimes
it
said,
Amyas Paulet. man can at

we long agoo
The
once be wise and
love,"
and yet
would be wel
to observe
many
til
will
bee
wiser after a lesson such as
conn'd.
There was noe ease

of
life
to our suiTeri'g heart
our yeares
were eight
lustres.
faire face liveth ever in
dreames, but in inner pleasances onely doth th' sunnie vision
come.
This wil make clearlie scene
why
i'
th' part a
is
man
doth play heerein and wherere man's love

strength hath remain'd unto the end,
recov'ring
evident,
^th'
wanto' Paris
by
his latter venture
much
previouslie lost.
BACON.
ROBEKT GREECE.
A QUIP FOR AN UPSTART COURTIER.
1620.
This work
may
not be
knowne
as mine, as anothe' i&
now
giv'n
all o' th'
wreathes and girlonde' certaine bookes
bring.
'Tis
known
tory in
to you,
among more worthy productions alreadie and is made valuable to my compleated his-
my
this
long-sought interiour epistles, as
my
labours
must by
Cypher.
time clearlie
have shewne, by that
pri'cipall
FRA'. B.
FEA^^CIS BACON.
NOVUM ORGANUM.
1620.
All that learne that
I,
who accompte
th' truth better
then wicked vanitie, published manie
late playes
under
other cognomen' will think the motive some distaste of the

stage.
In noe respect
were
is it
true, yet I shall
make knowne
stronger
to
him who can reade Cypher-writing, a motive

this,
it
then
live
such, since
man
hath a greater desire to
then hee hath to winne fame, and

it,
my
life
had foure
also.
eager spyes on
It
not alone by day but by night
may
thus bee surmis'd that devices of some sort were
soe needful,
lie
even
to publish
poemes which might natural-
bee but such as doe afPorde pleasure,
^that
my
wit,
not
at all lessened,
but sharpen'd, by constant dangers, found

to those
meanes unknown
out
who were most
warie, to send
much hidden
dangerous matter, (using tearmes in re-
gard tc myself e onely) that was not ev'n doubted.

Severull
small works under no
name .wonne worthy

they ventured into an
praise; rext in Spenser's
name,
I, at
also,
unknowne
diverse
world.
When
length, having written in

sufficient
stiles,
found three who, for
reward in gold
added to an immediate renowne as good pens, willingly

put forth
all
workes whch I had composed, I was bolder.
Feare
is
lest
noe reader
may
note an inner or Cipher story,

to
more present now, and doth question how

81
make
82

sort that it
change of such
be simple but not playne, for
no strong Cypher
is to be read as wee reade a booke. Having with some care prepared twoo setts both large
and small of accented or marked
letters,
in this type comfre-
monly cald
Italique, I
have emploied the same more
quently to hide secret matters, not as a meanes to render

discyphering easy, per contra, making
ever I
it difficult.
How-
now purpose
their
employment
in
my
future labour
in lieu o' th' plain' type, beleeving that the eie will be
more
readilie strucke thereby
not
in the present writing
further then hath already beene mentioned.

reflection,
Upon more
am
assured
it will,
at length, accomplish all
intended
when
it
was
devis'd, which, as must, methinkes,
ere the present time bee well knowne, was but to aide in
decyphering
my
great
Word-Cypher
so
called
because
key- words are emploi'd in joining the parts.

It is farre
more labour writing
thus, since a mistake
causeth
much harme, and
a frequent and tiresome repeti-
tion hath beene needfull to assure th' revelation of th'
whole hidden story; nor can

to
it
prove to be
secret hath
lesse
wearyi'g
my
decipherer whe'
all
my
beene brought
out, yet doe I maintaine that the principall
work hath
life, as
beene, or
is,
writing a secret storie of
my owne
well
as a true historie of th' times, in this greater
Cypher.
I have lost therein a present fame that I may, out of

anie doubt, recover
it
in our
owne and
othe' lands after
manie a long yeare.

I shall
I thinke some ray, that farre offe

th'
golden morning, will glimmer ev'n into

lie,
tombe where
to
and I
shall
is
know
that
wisdome led me thus
wait unhonour'd, as
meete, until in the perfected time,
which the Ruler, that doth wisely shape our ends, rough hewe them how we will, doth ev'n now knowe, my justi-
fication bee complete.
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
83
In
of
I
th'
Cyphers heere given, you will run ore the story
my
life
from yeere
to yeere,
wherein you
may
find that
was of
roiall birth, th' first
whose clayme
to th' scepter
was denyed by his foolish mother, herselfe a queene.

being th'
after
first
sonne, and borne in proper and just time
my
roial
mother, her marriage, should sway Engsit
land's sceptre
and
in her chaire of state; but Elizabeth,
who thought
all
to outcraft all th'
powers that be, supprest

if it
hints of her marriage, for
no knowne object
bee
not that her desire to swaie Europe had some likelihood,

thus, of
comming
to fulfillment.
Many were
her
suitors,
with
whom
shee executed th' figures of a dance, advanc-
ing, retreating, leading, or following in sweet
sympathy
to the musicke's call.
But ever was
there a dying fall in

or
those straines
none might heare onely she

to
my
father
altar,
and
th' dancer's feete
never led to Hymen's lofty
thereafter.
A
Xew
f eare
seemed
haunt her minde that a king might

to seeke
suit th'
mounting ambitions of a people that began
Atlantis beyond th' westerne seas.
long'd for a roiall leader of the troopes,

eagles threat'ned th' realme,
Some doubtlesse when waxres blacke
which Elizabeth met in two
when subjects were admitted into th' presence chamber, and by th' most consta't opposition to warre, as was well knowne to her counwayes
shewi'g a kinglie spirit
cill.
by
Manie supposing miserly love of gold uppermoste

spirit,
in
mind and
made but
partial
and cursorie note of

o'
her naturall propension, so to speake, or the bent

disposition,
th'
for behinde every othe' passion and vanity
mooving
her, the feare of being depos'd rankled
and urg'd
her to a policie not yet understood.
Th' warres of Edward, cald The Third,
but who might
84

first
bee nam'd the

Sonne,
amongst heroes,
and
of
his
bolde
known
Fift,
Henry
Edward the Blacke and her grandsire Henry

as
strifes,
Prince, of
brave
Sevent, as well as
one of her father, his short
were not yet out of

all
memorie of
th' people.
Many
pens kepte
these fresh
in their mindes.
Shee, as a gTave physitian, therefore,

so,
kept a finger on th' wrist of the pnblique,
doubtlesse,
found
it
the part of prudence to put the Princes,
^my
sight
brother, th' Earle of Essex, and myselfe
out
o' th'
of th' people.
father, handled matters so that
Yet in course of time the Earle of Leicester, our hee came nearer to
subtile
obtain-
ing th' crowne for
my
brother then suited
my
wishes and
claymes, making pretense of consulting [my] tastes and

fitnesse for learning.
That Robert was of bolder temper

can by no argument disprove, but
and more
I
fiery spirit I
want not
roiall parts,
and right of primogeniture may

sacrifice, as
not be
set aside,
without some costly
modesty
or good fame.
Stopping shorte of this irreparable wrong,
my
father tooke but slight interesse in the things he had

th' trouble
beene so hot upon, and

jects
regarding his wilde proto th' death of
was
at a
time
much
later
subsequent
aBout,
our fathe^
Though
constantly
hemmed
threatened,
kept
under surveillance, I have written
this history in full in
the Cypher, being fully persuaded, in

heart, that not onelie jesting Pilate,
my owne
th'
minde and
but the world aske: hidden history
^What
in
is
truth?''
and when they reade

it
my
work, must thinke
a worthie labour to write a

o'
true history of our times, and
that greatly renown'd
mayden-queene,
Elizabeth,
it
shall
appeare
misplact
IN
NOVUM 6rGANUM.
as
85
when you put my work,

form readily understood.
you here
shall finde
it,
into a
As may bee
beth,
knowne unto you, th' questio' of Elizaher legitimacie, made her a Protestant, for the Pope
well
th' union, tho' it
had not recognis'd

sire
were royale, which her

Still
made with f ayre Anne Boleyn.

some restraining
feare,
it
we may
see that
despite
suited her to dallie with

settling the
the question, to
make
a faint
shew of
if
mater
as
her owne co'scie'ce dictated,

facts;
we
take th' decisions of
but the will of
th' remorse-tost th'
king
left
no doubt
fact, as
in men's
th'
minds concerning
former marriage, in
crowne was giv'n
first to
Mary,
his
daughter of that
marriage, before commi'g to Elizabeth.
In
th' storie of
my
most infortunate grandmother, the

not
th'
sweet ladie
who saw
headsman's axe when shee
went forth proudly
to her coronation,
you
shall read of a
sadnesse that touches
me
neere, partlie because of neerebeliefe
nesse in bloud, partlie
from a firme
and
trust in
her innocencie. Therefore every act and scene of this play

of which I speake,
is
a tende' sacrifice,
It
is
and an incense
to
her sweete memorie.
a plea to the generations to

life,
come
in
for* a just
judgement upon her

o'
whilst also giving
the world one of the noblest
my
plays,
hidden in Cy'hre
many
other workes.
A
ayde
short argument, and likewise th' keies, are giv'n to

th'
decypherer
when
it is
to
be work'd out
as I wish.
This doth
to our
tell th' story
with sufficient cleames to guide you
hidden
storie.
This opeth at
first
th'
palace,
when King Henry
for the
time cometh truely under the spell of her beautie,

th' highest perfection of
then in
spoiled,
dainty grace, fresh, un-
and
the charme
of
youthlie
manners.
It
is
86
thought this was that inquisition which brought out feares

regarding th' marriage contracted with Katharine of Arragon, so that none greatly wond'red whe' prolonged consultation of the secret voyce in his soule assur'd the questioner
noe good could ever come from the union.

this conviction
Acti'g upon
titles
he doth confer money and
upon
his
last choise to quiet objections
on score of unmeetnes.
shall
But
tho'
an irksome thing, truth
be
told.
Tho'
it
be ofttimes a task,
th' lesse,
if
selfe-imposed, not
by any meanes
completion. For
but more Avearisome, since the work hath noe

praise,
voyce of approvall or
I intend
its
many
from
but
simple causes th' historic of a man's life cometh

acts that
we
see
through stayned glasse darkelie, and

doth perceyve
heere give
is
of th' other sexe, a
man
lesse, if possible,
th' picture that I shall
limn'd most careto
fully.
However m' pen hath
greatly digress'd, and
returne.
Despite this
mark
of royall favour, a grave matter like
the divorcement of a royall spouse to
wed
a maide, suited
not with f ayre Anne's notions of justice, and with a sweete

grace she
"I
made answere when

become your
th'
the
King sued
for favour:
am
not high in birth as would befit a Queene, but I

mistresse."
am
too good to
to
So there was no waye

o' th'
compasse his desires save to wring a decree out
Pope and wed
maide, not a jot regarding her answer
unlesse to bee the
more eager
to
have
his waye.
Th' love Lord Percy shew'd
my lady,
his
although so frankly
return'd, kept the wish turning, turning as a restless mill.
Soone he resolv'd on proof of
owne
spirit,
doe
th'
Pope
how he might, and

wedded
th' too
securing
civill
decree, privately
youthfuU Anne, and hid her for space of
severall dales untill th' skies could
somewhat
cleare; but
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
87
when
th'
earlie
sumer came, in hope that there might
soone bee borne to them an heyre of th' desir'd kinde,

order'd willinglie her coronation sparing noe coste to
it
make
soft
is
outvie anie other.
And when
she was borne along, surrounded
by
white tissew, shielded by a canopie of white, whilst she
wafted onwards, you would say an added charme were to

paint the
lillie,
or give the rose perfume.

th'
This was onely

briefe,
beginning of a triumph, bright as
in a short space 'twas ore.
Henry chose
to con-
sider th' infant princesse in the light of great anger oi a
just
God brought upon him

spirit,
for his sinnes, but bearing this
with his daring
he compelleth the Actes of Suprem-
acy and Succession, which placed him at the head of the
Church of England,
by Queene Anne
in th'
one
case,
and made
his heires
th' successours to th' throne.
Untill that
time, onely male heyres
had succeeded
to th' roiall
power
and the act occasioned much surprise amongst our
nobilitie.
But Henry
th'
rested not the\
The
lovelinesse of
so potent to
Anne
winne
and her natural opennesse of manner,
weake heart
o' th'
King, awaken'd suspition and

th'
much
to
for-
cruell jealousie
when hee saw
gay courtiers yielding
th' spell of gracefull gentility,
heightened by usage
But
if
rayn, as also at th/ English Court.

th'
truth be said,
fancy had taken him to pay lovi'g court unto the faire
Jane
young,
Seymour,
who was more

most ordinary
as
beautifull,
and
quite
but
also
doth regard personall

th'
manner, and
ing,
th' qualitie that
made
Queene
so pleast'
Lady
them
Jane permitting marks of gracious favour
be freelie offered.
And
pris'd
the Queene, unfortunately for her secret hope, surin a tender scene.
Sodaine griefe orewhelm-
88

viole'tlie,
ing her so
she swoiind before them, and a

so
little
space thereafter the infant sonne
constantly desired,
this selfish
borne untimely, disappointed once more

arch.
mon-
This threw him into great fury, so that he was
cruellie harsh
port,
where [he] should give comfort and sup-
throwing so
much blame upon
the gentle Queene,
that her heart dyed Avithin her not long after soe sadde
ending of a mother, her hopes.
Under
pretexte of beleeving gentle
Queene Anne
to as
to be
guilty of unfaithfullnesse,
Henry had her conveyed

to
Lon-
don Tower, and subjected her to such ignominy

barelie beleeve,
one can
ev'n basely laying
her
charge the
gravest sins, and
summoning
a jury of peeres delivered the
Queene
pitch.
for tryal and sentence.
His
act
doth
blacken
Ev^n her
father, sitting amidst the peeres before
whom
shee was tried, exciteth not so
much
astonishment
înce hee was forc'd thereto.
Henry's will was done, but hardly could hee restraine

the impatience that sent
him
forth
from
his pallace at th'
hour of her execution to an eminence neare by, in order

to catche th' detonation (ation) of th' field peece
whose
fell,
hollow tone tolde the
moment
tha;fc
at
which
th' cruell
axe
and
tell
see the blacke flag,
signall
which
floated
wide
to
the world she breathed no more.
Th' hast with which hee then went forward with his
marriage, proclaym'd the reall rigor or frigidity of his
hart.
It is
by
all
men accompted
this lady,
strange, this
subtile
to
power by which soe many of the peeres could be forc'd

passe sentence
upon
when
far
proofes of guilt were
nowhere
to
to bee produced.
In
justice to a
memorie dear
upon
It
myself e, I must aver that
it is
from
cleare yet,
what charge shee was found worthie of death.
must of
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
th' lawe, that
89
neede have beene some quiddet of
chang'd
some harmlesse words into anything one had in minde, for

in noe other
waye conld speech
of hers be
made
wrongful!.
Having
fayl'd to prove her untrue,
nought could bring
about such a result e, had this not (have) beene accomplish' d.
Thus was her good fame made

shal
a reproache,
and time
hath not given backe that priceles treasure.
If
my
plaie
as
shew
this
most
clearly, I shall
be co'tente.
And
for
my
roiall grandsire,
whatever honour hath beene
lost
by such
a course,
is
re-gain'd
by
his descendants
from the
union, through this lovi'g justification of
Anne
Bulle', his
murther'd Queene.
Before I go further with instructions, I make bold to say

that th' benefits
we who now
live in
our free England
reape [are] from her faith and unfayling devotion to th'
advancement, that she herselfe

undertaken.
It
promoting, beheld
well
was her most
earnest beliefe in this re-
markable and widelie spread

evidence of workes be taken,
eifecte
o'
on
th' true prosperitie
of the realme, and not a love
dignity or power,
if
the
that co'strain'd her to take
upon her
out
all th'
th' responsibility of roialtie.
And
am
fullie
carry-
perswaded in mine owne minde that had shee lived to
work, her honours, no doubt, had outvied those
of her world-wide
tinu'd that
famed and honour'd daughter who conso well
which had beene

artes
also
commenc'd.
am aware many
waned
in the raignes of
Edward
and bloodie Mary,
that their recovery
must have
requir'd patient attention
and the expenditure of money
my
mother had no
desire so to imploy, having
many
other
things at that time

subtly; but that
it
by which
th'
coffers
were drayn'd
must require farre greater perseverance

and
in order to begin so noble work, devising th' plannes
90

be
ayding in their execution, cannot
impugned.
Many
times these things do not shewe lightness or th' vanitie
which some have
laid to her charge.
However
wish
shall
t'
th'
it
play doth reveale this better, farre, then I

in this Cypher, therefore I begge that
it
give
bee written out and kept as a perpetual
monument
of
my
wrong' d, but innocent ancestresse.
My keies mentio'd in the beginning

work, will follow in this place:
*
th'
of this most helpfull
As hath most
you.
frequentlie bin said these will write th'
play, but th' foregoing abridgement, or argument, wil ayde
In good hope of saving
same from olde Father
Time's ravages, heere have I hidden this Cypher play.
To
it
you I entruste
th' taske I, myselfe, shall
never see com-
plete, it is probable,
but soe firme

its
is
my
conviction that
must before long put up

Soone wil
leaves like th' plant in th^
sunne, that I rest contente awaiting that time.
my
discypherer finde another kind of
drama
that shall give as great varietie to th' interiour plays as
bath beene noted in the exteriour.

for
its
It is a
comedy having
should be
actors divers
whom
I have used to masque myselfe

lest
from
Ill
sight,
having a constant f eare
my name
found.
would
finish'd,
and
my work fare if fate remov'd me ere they were ill my very life itselfe would have fared, if
to
my
the
plays,
which I then composed, had bene knowne

o'
be
work
my
hand, to Queene
who
as
hath beene
a
said previously, publiquely tearm'd herselfe
mayden-
queene, whylst wife to th' Earle of Leicester.

union, myselfe and one brother
princes
By
th^
were
th'
early fruits,
by no meanes basely
begot, but so farre were

in our youth
wee
did
from being properly acknowledged,
we
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
91
not surmise ourselves other then the sonne of the Lord
Keeper of the
Seale, lîcholas Bacon, in the one case,
and
of th' Earle of Essex, Walter Dev'reux, in the other.
Several yeares had gone by ere our true

th' conditions
name
or anie of
herein mentioned, came to our knowledg'.
In truth, even then the revelation was in a measure

dentall
albeit 'twas
made by my mother
acci-
^her
wrath over
one of
quite
my
boylike impulses
driving her to admissions
unthought, wholy unpremeditated, but
when thus
as,
spoken to our hearing, not to bee retracted or denyed.
But
f arre
all
as
wel might
all this sleep
ev'n yet in the past
from advancing the
state of these sonnes, shee cast off
thought, or interesse in th' wellfare of her owne, to
advance that of
men no waye depending on

by lawe Divine due
her.
So this
ill-advised disregard of the birth-right prerogative, powV,,
dignity and honour,

this realme,
to the princes
many
times
made
evidente to us,
moved my
o'
brother to the rash measure that was soone conceyv'd and

as
sodainlie
ended.
Without doubt, sense
injustice
stung a proud
at
spirit like his past th'
boundes of a patience-
noe time remarkable or well f oster'd by the atmospheare
of the Courte.
Furthermore noe thought

youth
rell
so holds th' imagination of
as that o' imperiall power.
We
crave Caesar's law-
crowne
at cost of sleepelesse houres in the night,
and
wearie toyle by daye.

better then most, having
I can undertake
such a feeling
had
th'
same
interesse in a degree
title.
much
greater,
and in
so vastlie better right or

is
Th' comedie that I nam'd here

boldlie,
entituled
somewhat
Solomon the Second.

th' seeker in the
am
myselfe represented
by him,
depth of learning, appall'd at th^
daring of mine almost unpremeditated plunge but like that
93

still
antient heroe, asking
for light to go
on in
my my
quest.
Much
ing,
of this
is
in
my
play of altogather differe't kind but

think-
not more suited in th' young hero of th' one, in
then in the second which hath

it
th'
ending soe happy

if
that
can, in right, have
mention
as
one quite pleasing,
not th' best
among my
comedies.
it
Herein
is
a short historic of
that will assist verie
much
Gor-
in the task of bringing the play together
as seen in all I
first is
have done.
Th' scene oft
is
chang'd, yet the
hambury: time early morne; day shewing faintlie in th' sky and low lights burning, partlie revealing a scroll, a
penne,
an ink-stande,
many
bookes
having the leaves

th' caseme't.
turned by a wind very softly comming in at
My foster-father
my
standing by
me
thus spake:
"Tell me,
Salamon, wilt thou embrace
graven in thy heart
"
thy
fatheres
precepts
with some of the following lines

will also be found.
where the answer that I gave

his exit is the soliloquy.
After
The next
putting
scene openeth on th' faraway sea-coast duely
my
numerous devices
into
immediate examination,
making many
finished.
enquiries in th' fielde of nature concearning
hidden things, beginning thus
my
Sylva Sylvaru' not yet
Th' next in
verse, earnest
my owne
chamber a second time,
in con-
and impassioned, with
my
mother persewing
a similar theame.
The
earliest
fourth scene
of
is
in a publique hall,
is
where one of the

Half
my
dramas
on
this
poore stage.
still
my
heart goes out after fame, while half

justly approv'd itselfe
longes, as hath
by
th'
foregoing scene, after greater

or suspect.
or fuler truth, free
from doubt
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
93
To
leave a true record of th' chiefe incidents of th'
raigne of
my
mother, Queene Elizabeth, which for various
reasons requir'd seciêcy, manie were

fnllie
o'
my
devices so
skill-
brought forth that

are,
all
escapt notice, simple as
many
them
and
as th' play is supos'd to
bee that of Chrisi'
topher Marley,
much
secret matte' doth

it
masque
th' play.
Seeing
th'
good favour
such
doth win,
my
plan doth at once
put
forth
compleate forme that I no longer ask

th'
myselfe a question, but carrie forwards

in
many dramas
of the
much hast. The second
act doth
give
the
th'
resulte,
many
authors, soe call'd, appeas'd
by
balm of gold when the
plays were thought of noe valew, disputing fiercely
when
beholders aplaud, each claymeing the author, his lawrells.
In these scenes
is
much
wit ingaged,
many
songs shall also

joviall.
bee used therein making th' action light and
Place,
where
th'
remayni'g acts transpire,
is
London.
Those
part
act.
o'
jests of
Geo. Peele have place in acts twoo, three,
four
(th' first portion)
and a small part
o' th' finall
In scene two,
act four, diverse strange acts
by
experi-
ments in magicke are seene, for which the discyph'rer shal

seeke in
many
places, chiefly in that
youthly production*
which was
Faustus
entitul'd
is
Friar
Bacon
and-so-forth.
To
this
add a play that
entitled George-a-Greene
and one named
(to write these
comicke
see's)
the David, as hath

plaies
beene
Fift,
said,
with two of the Shakespeare

th'
Henrie
Th'
statelier
with
Taming
o' th'
Shrew.
You
will not finde this as oppressive as th' tragedy.
wittie speakers are

ladies or
more cheering [than] those
and a
spirit of
gentlemen of that early time, for various reasons, moving mirth informs each scene. * * * *
Now
are your working keis ready for th' decyphering,
94

if
is
t'
and
tions
a rule long since conceal'd in the former publica-
well con'd, I thinke

th' light.
it
may
forth
I will however,
many weeks come repeate heere, much of

ere
th' necessary rule and th' cheefe plannes, soe that clear
notions
may
greatly ayd our inve'tio'.

structure, or
This doth somelike as o' severall
what resemble a stone

varieties,
many,
this red sand-stone, that granite, divers o' noth-
ing but
th'
common
The
stones
o' th' field,
yet
all so
arranged,
so fitted for the intend' spaces, that
no mistake doth seeme
probable.
into
keie-words that are given, are to signify
which
especiall structure th'
numerous hewen stones

see repeated so
to
are to bee built.

frequently,
The joining-words you

portions
marke the
which are
bee joyned
together in th' perfect whole, even as in the modell.

It doth not rest with the stone-mason to shape or invent
his planne,
ple, the
this is prepared to his use,
so in this
my
tem-
model hath not fayFd
to
limne
as
bold a designe,
which
th'
decyphere' must dutifullie, and with patience,
bring to perfection.
In several works I have giv'n
rules,
example
to
ayde
you, keyes, various arguments, abridgments like to that
given above, soe that

âsilie as
my
ca'
decypherer
may
write this as
any other work

th'
be accomplished.
they were separated by
to place,
th^
In preparing
portions,
keyes that wil bring
them againe
and
as hath
beene oft mentioned,
this will set decipherers
on their way;
but th' joining-words must be found to match the parts

togather.
Begin
at once,
and doe not turne from

whole be
finished.
o'
it
th' taske
I have assigned
you
untill the
In order
to present the greatest
number
poemes
to th^
people of our time, while in this work,
may
be
made
somVhat
easier in such portion' of this history as are not
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
many
such I finde
it
95
of secret subjects; and in
possible to
use large parts in one place.
Furthermore
(e) th'
work,
becam' very pleasing to such a degre that I concealed matters
most commonplace, and harmefuU truly to none, I

say.
may
One
intends a lesson in Christian doctrine,
shewing out
Christ.
clearlie
God's purpose, in the passion of the

o'
Th' moderne poeme, working like a consenting

to th'
human
whole.
its
Divine rainde, soe followeth the ancient story
that th' very spirit of a time farre past doth informe the
However, writing
it
in a secret
manner had
for
chief e object the use of an invention I greatlie wished
to
make
th' best in use' to
transmit most worthie subjects.
Being easy
the
to insert, not
hunted or recognis'd soe readily,
new Cypher hath
required les of patience and. giv'n
more
pleasure then others.
If for
my owne
hidden story this
now
in
your use
lefte
a doubt as to th' suspition' which rise within th'
minde
that
the mater m'gli be dangerous, I have as you know, from
time
to time, writte'
such thinges in this also as were not
secret, neythe'
important; but
The
Pastorall
is
of worth,
of interest to the whole world, and no one should think th'
worke put on
this
is (is)
not wel spent.

carefree, idole,
The
story
is
to
work on
and many times

like the story in
it
youthfull and unthinking ones

poetry, if of
will
who might
melody and power,
so stirri'g th' heart that
seeme
like to
musick lightly stealing hither
fro' th'
courts of th' sky.

its
Wise men,
reading.
too,
may
find this story in
new forme goodly
You need
this,
not soe
much ayde
is
to
decypher a work like

in
for th' whole story
as it is related
the
Holy
Scripture.
Five stanzos in Spenser give a planne, or model
96
of th' poeme, forming a prologue.

sary, th' keies
Noe
other being neces-
may now
keies.
bee deciphered.
*
I put
These are
my
With purposes most devout

its
forth this epick which hath for
theme
a Divine
Lord
and Master, made

everie waye,
pect,
like to
man, that a sin-cursed world
might be redeehaed, and whylst

it is
my
work
is
youthfull, in
sav'd
from
th' puerilitie
one might ex-
by the hight
th' subject, in its exalted, divine char-
acter, still sustaineth in prose
and poetry.
It
is
in
its
nature farre above that forme which would

as tlr
expresse
uplifted
it,
and
mighty musicke of the

loud,*
sea
when
come
by winde soundeth
though wind be soon
stayed, so
my poeme
maketh
a load sound that doth
home to men's bosoins, albeit moved by a passing breath. The life of the man who was the living God, doth shew
what
all life
might
be, in unselfish ministry to th' worldes
needes.
It is given to every
man who
will inquire of a
as it
Heavenlie Kabbi regarding these things,
hath beene
spirit,
given myselfe to knowe what the power within, His
hath come into this world to do.
ITone, I think,
would
make
th' old plea that fate or
chance doth control his owne
nature, yet
must hee owne some power that doth sway
men's hearts and that holdeth our existence,

life,
the
issues of
in time which
is
now, and
is
to be.
I,
myselfe,
am
assured that to labour continually tho'
nere bringing in
my
ripe'd grain,
is
^ny imposed taska

is
The only worke

forth, as
that I have completed,
concealed in
Cypher which awaiteth another hand then
this to
bring
it
you know, and I am loath
to shut its portalls.

so
Oft I ask vainlie who will bee

other can winne
endowed that none
him from
my
work, since the most are so
lacking in sufficient perseverance, that no severe or weary-
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Some few think
abilitie to
it
97
some taske
ful for ere
is
ere concluded.
disgrace-
men who boast godlike
give ore their hunt
winning some trophic, yet their triumphes are not

Soe weake and inconstant
is
certaine.
judgment, when
thinges not familiar be submitted,

that there should be anything to be
first
wondering much
out,
found
then on the
othe' side, marveling to thinke that th'
world had soe long
gone by without seeing
it.
But
as floodes
sweepe awaie such things
as
bee of light
waight, leaving along the course heavy bodies, metals or

rockie masses, in like
cient
manner the thinges which have sufiiwaight when borne on downe the great River o' Time
be found preserved
dista't,
shall soone
fro' waters,
although ofte
very farre
perchance, and amid newe scenes.
At
that time, sooner or later,
my
triumph must
thrill
my
heart, for long hath the labour beene,
and ofte
difficile.
The future may thus
in a
measure make good the

Th' hope maketh
past, so
that I shal, perchance, recover [somewhat] with th' generations that are to come.
my
work
lesse
heavy and m' heart
lesse sadde.
A
is
play,
which I
person
am
of
at present writing
engaged upon,
is
entitled,
because
is
of the sweete lady

all
o'
who
the most
repre-
important
sented,
having beene therein

Britaine.
Th' White Rose

versified doe
large portion of
the aforesaid
Seventh.
to
in that unfinished History of
King Henry
part of
one,
It is prose chief ely.
Th' parts which I intended
have
make up such an important

would have bin a
that great historic th' taske
difficile
yet in manie written at an earlier date I have some large

portions in both forms.
This hath
made my owne work

decypherer's
lesse,
greater, but hath in nowise
made
my
inasmuch
as the
changes had aâine to be made by him-
98

engaged in the decyphering, but vice versa.
if
selfe while
In example,
I have
made
the interio' epistle poetrie and

if th' interiour
is
the exterior not soe, hee must versifie, but
be in prose and the exterior in verse his taske

both be the same
it is
light; if
easy both to read and write.
The
keies will not be given untill th' history mentioned
be finished but when
he
doth
see
the
Katharine Gordon in any of

I speake of her,
my
workes, he
name o' Ladie may know that

th'
th'
daughter of a nobleman of Scotland,
mine
Earle
o'
Huntley,
by
th'
King Henry
pretended
Sevent
named White Kose

title
of Brittaine, giving to her beautie th'
assumed by her husband,
Duke
o'
Yorke.
She was in truth verie sweete and

feature, gracing the
faire in
forme and
name
hee, dishonouring, speedilie lost.
Her
also,
wifely devotion to th' false Duke, hath
made many
It winneth,
tender and most saddening scenes in the play.
much
love and honor, and a wondering admiration,
her heart shewing great strength and constancy.

If
God doth
grant
it
me
a long life so to complete these

th' world, since
varied labours,
shall
bee well for
am
seeking not
my owne
honour, but th' honor and advanceall
ment,
th' dignitie
and enduring good of
mankinde.
o'
The discipherer may finde it strange I write th' history Henry the Seventh both as a play, for purposes of my
it
Cypher, and as a prose worke to publish openly, but
may
bee understood at some future day farre or neare.
The reason will then approve (i) itself e, for a play should make a linke in this chaine and the history mention'd was requir'd by the King. Secret matters do not make up these interiour epistles,
in
many
th'
cases.
Th' evidence such plays give of being
from
brayne of one who hath for manie yeares made
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
and
th'
(^
methode
liimself acquainted with th' formes

art
of
my
or
this
dramaticke or representative poetry, maketh
xilso
claime to other workes, which have beene publisht

undeniable.
in various names,
The worke despight
variety of styles,
is
mine owne.
masque a perfecte
might possibly
it,
Manie
asmuch
will not thinke the
vizard, in-
as a keene, sharp eye
at
some time
have scene
my
features beneath
yet
it
hath (ath) oc-
curr'd so seldome nothing hath
it
endangered
as
't
my
secret
which
th'
Cypher doth herein conceale,

Divided many,
hath ever a
strong safeguard.
scattered into
many
times and freely
my
is
divers playes, prose writings, or poemes,
truly no eye
so wel-seeing or strong it could pursue a

th'
thread so fine without
Qu.
Th' keie-words so ofte mention'd are not noted by any

save one wel-instructed in th' Cyphers which have beene
-consta'tlie
employ'd in
my
worke.
Even
in
the
lesser
Cyphers I have so shifted the course of

that some
I' th'
all
these stories
must have tum'd
aside.
King Henry the Seventh you shall finde some porKing Henry Eight is also requir'd, with Richard. Of most historicall plays note one mark'd pointe or feature. Some likenesse or paralell
tions to co'plete that plaie, but
is
to
bee observed in them, also
th' events of
one raigne
folt'
seeme link'd to those of time that precedeth or doth

lowe, as scene in such as I have sent forth
time, for the purposes of
from time
my
Cypher.
The
part in Richard [is] of so mark'd purpose, some

requir'd,
might suppose a keye might not bee
but his wit
would not be
sufiicient to
put the portions where each doth

little
belong when found, soe that
can be accomplish'd, as
may
bee scene; neyther would ought of secret Court mat-
100

bee so exposed in print
tii'
ters ever
torie
th'
nor ev'n
Danger
personall his-
as that in
Cypher
epistles
oil*.
cannot even yet have
disguise torne harshelie
might
shewe
a head.
Th' play, of which I have given the

pleasing as
it
title,
is
not soe
might be with sweete Katherine Gordon's
love scenes, and th' Duke's

th'
happy songs of the gaiety of

all this
princely Court of England, but since

it
may
be
seene to be a part of another play,
will bee thought well

th'
.
^
when completed that I robb Henry grace to my White Eose. Of this

discyphered.
Sevent to add a
I leave posteritie to
judge, confident of th' decision whe' they shall both bee
am
in good hope, ev'n yet, I
may
see this
work comas
is
pleted in
eare
my
owne mortall
th' prophesy,
life,
yet voyces sound to th'
making
manie times repeated here

a land that
you probablie know, of a long future and of

very far
off.
But
for th'
hope of a future, how could we

o'
bear the heat and burden
th' daie.
In
my
heart th'
whispers of hope thus have long

th' night, that is
made
a sweete song in
more glad and joyous then anie love hath
sung.
All
tie to
th'
promises of th' world's glory and th' opportuni-
acquire gre't learning have sometimes
made havocke
honour that
within
my
minde, for I have yearn'd for

to
th'
would now come

since, I thinke,
me
if
I had not, as you knewe long

off
beene cut
by
th'
whim
of
my
roiall
mother
fro' princely station,
shut from hope,
naturall sequence of time and events,

th' throne.
th' first
then, or in
of succeeding to
directly to
By
lawe
th'
kingdome should goe
borne sonne.
How
right and Divine justice, havspirit,
ing beene controled by a woman's unyeelding
suf-
IN
fer'd a change,
is
NOVUM ORGANUM.
clear e
101
made
it
and evident 'lieerem/
MucH
,
of historic thus recorded will bee strangp

it is
t6\GV}f;^'ey;(/,',^ê:t
soe true that
can but bring convictio' to

is
all
who
dis-
reade.
shall
Th' principall Cypher

our worke thrive well
eniploied for this, nor
if it
bee not throughlie
cypher'd.
Some might
hope that
it
not trust a labour of yeeres to oblivio', and
may one day
be summon' d to take upon

its
't,
one happy sunlit morning,
owne forme; yet doth some
thought upholde me,

its
so hopefully
my
hart doth cling to
last
desire,
I write on each "Resurgam,'' beleeving
they
shall, .ev'n like
man,
life.
arise
from the dust

to
to rejoyce
this
againe in newnesse of
In order
make
most
since
complete assurance I shall emploie other methodes
wee
see that in miracle-working
nought was done without
meanes
and
note the result, having prepar'd alphabets
of Latine letters soe that everie

faces, in
running
titles,
prologues et csetera.
word may be used in preSometime I
intende th' use of these dotted letters as a Cypher-planne,
compleate in
the
itselfe, rathe'
then a meere shift to confuse

first
decypherer.
Th' latter I purpose using
in
i'
my
th'
history not yet finished, the other I wish to

plaies
employ
whe' republisht.
as
first
So few can bee put forth

îghte revision,
written without a
and many new

or noe rest.
being also made ready,

I
my
penne hath
plaies
little
am
speaking
of
those
that were suppos'd
Wm.
Shakespeare's.
If these
should be pass'd over and none should disceme th' secret

epistles,
I must needs
make
alphabets shewing th'
manner
of employing th' Cyp'er.
However, I
shall use letters that
differ from th' type I heere emploie, not wishing, at present, to give a device that
hath caused so manie sleepelesse
ipa
nights and such troubled dales, freely, even as one

tell
would
school-
tbe mean/r'g of a riddle to a child,
o'
solve
some
boy's problems.
I have shewne some wit heerein.
Let him that would

strife,
be a discypherer do the same and win the prize by

if
indeed at
all.
When
waye,
first
unburdened
my
o' o'
heart
o' th'
story in this
secret bee
I had co'stantlie
much
feare lest
my
s'ented forth
by some hound
th'
Queene Elizabeth;
my
life
might paye
before.
forfeit
and the world be no wiser then

is
But
that danger
past long ere

is
now and nought

and that
but the jealousy of the King
to bee feared,
mare in dread of
any feare of
effecte
on the hearts of the people, then
th' presentation of
my
claime,
knowing
as
he
doth, that all witnesses are dead
and the required docu-
ments destroyed.
!N"aturallie it
must cause some
inquiry within the

it
minde
as to
my
intended course or what
would be
like to bring
to pass, for His true that his clay me
would ranke second

little
onely to Elizabeth's
to his
issue.
It
must give some

his
pause
mounting thoughts when

this worthie reason
realme hath a claimant
in th' aforesaid issue.
For
the
secret
should bee kept

it
within th' hearts of th'

as
men who
will hold
sacredly, even
one doth a pledge.
Future dales
shall give th'
world
my
worke and I
shall
then be contente.
In
hand.
my
great Cipher you
mil
se
manle finished workes,
besides the two mentioned not quite ready fo' this
now
in
As you know
well, this
slip
must be done while
it is
printing,
ô
time doth
by unoccupied, and everie

th'
day hath
but
its tasks.
"Without wearying of the selfe-assum'd

a time
i'
as
hath soe
many
Cypher
epistles
beene

NOVUM ORGANUM.
our
IN
noted
103
essentiall
labours,
hand
will
work
untill
Death's blacke shadowe fall acrosse th' day.
The
exteriour plays will bee the sure proofe,
if
such
proof e be necessary, that
my
word
is th'
truth; for no one
hath ability to write with greater ease then myselfe, yet

without
much time
spent on
work [s]o
shall
difficult this
should
be a number very
to rewrite
th'
much
his
smaller.
But one who thinketh

imploy his time in
my
hidden matters,
same way, or
work
shall
come somewhat behinde
mine in quantity.
When
Of
mostlie,
i.
all
shal be complete th' plays
number
thirteen.
th' histories I
e.,
have already mentioned, two are prose,
a life of
th' title,
my
brother
o'
who
bore th' cognomen

o'
Devereux,
Earle
Essex,
I,
that of Th' Raigne

it
King Henry the Sevent; but

in th'
having scene
it
emploi'd
thus with very good eifect, founde
very convenient here

play th' forme
is
Cypher
playes, since
i'
th' interiour
the same as that of th' exteriour,

easier.
making
my
labours farre
For
others, I
have made use generally,

as
as
hath beene
said, of verse,
employing the same
found in the plays
I have published, but as
many
parts that appertayne to
such interiour plays have been chang'd into a prose forme

in th' finish'd work,
he who decyphers these should knows

to th'
somewhat of
other.
th'
manner of turning from one forme
Th' White Rose, giveth a good experience in
labour of th' kind mention'd, but in both the others of
which wee now speake, hee

him, even there,
if all
shall see that it
is
requir'd of
be put [in] order.
As
Earle
there be two workes entitled th' Historic of

o'
R
th^
Essex,
some of the key-words
will bee scene to bee
similar, yet the parts are easily kept
from confusion by
104
joining-wordes.
They
is
are alike dramaticall
and
historicall.
One, however,
still
a tragedy giving that awefull death that
doth seeme fresh within
my
memory,
as if
no long
night-vigils,
comming betweene longer

sense.
daies of labour,
duird the quick

yesternight,
it
If
it
were noe longer past then
could no' come before
mee more
distinctly
then
it,
to-day, standeth forth, wringing
my
heart with
Grod,
paine that never ceaseth by day or night.
Father
of all that dwell above or below, give blessed light from
Thy
owne
close
throne on high.
Shed
cleere radiance
from Thine
can
Lift
to
glorie acrosse th' blacke night,
ô weary work
my
heart's doors 'gainst
Heavenly Guest.
Thou me up
shine
If
in gentle love
as of olde.
and make Thy countenance

reveal' d to
upon
it
me
be decipher' d alreadie,
it is
my
discy-
pherer that remorse doth
make
my
griefe so bitter, for
very
life
did hang on that thread, and by th' truth
my my
brother was attainte, yet faine would I
now
chose an hun-
dred shamefull deaths then ayde to send a brothe' into

Etemitie.
In
this shall
bee made cleare, in
my owne
history, for
my
off
rightfull and true justification before the world. Farre
the day
may
be, yet in time here or hereafter, it shall
Though sorrowe is my constant companion now, joy shall come on that m'rning. Having
bee
understood.
these hopes, then, though
many
a sorrowe smite mee,
my
heart faileth not.
In
th'
Cypher
history, everything relative

o'
t'
th' actes
that can give truer conception

freely set forth as all
th'
whole, will bee as
must be
at the great
Day
of Judg-
ment.
When
one doth write with feare of betrayal, hee car-
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
tume
to
105
rieth l^he historie brokenly; hee warily doth
some
other thought, not liking to appear occupied with a great
theame, nor to value his labours.
The hidden
scarcely
th'
historie is
somewhat
head out
like th'
tortoise,
that
putt(t)eth his
o' th' shell

is
but he endangereth
whole body,
and
my
worke
lesse pleasi'g to write, or decypher,
from
owne,
th' shifts of
many
sortes necessarie to preserve th' secret.

is,
Th' principall history

yet
it is
as
you may suppose,
my
soe
much mixt
it is
or twin'd into manie others herein
given, that
a taske putting
them
together, as
you
per-
haps well know.
The work
then
will not
be complete
untill
my
death.
It
may
fall short of
many
things I have
long desir'd to chrystalize, as might be

unperishing rock.
said, in
a solide,
However, when Deathe

bee another to carry
as possibl'.
shall cut short

it
my
it
toyle, there should
forward that
shall
may
lacke as
little
Th'
labour
be
lighter then
mine hath ever

hath
bin.
Th' whole being of soe

omit any,
fully
or, as
much worth, he cannot meetly many times [been] me'tion'd, willth' reasons
marre
this
planne save where for

is
knowne,
much many
repetition
employ' d, at
first,
in order to aford
beginnings, so that the decypherer would most asursize,
edly find a door of such

ance, he must, I doubt
of so inviting outside appear-
it
not, enter to see
what he perhaps
conceal'd herein,
may
let
discover.
If he shall publish
it
what
it
is
him winnowe
Manie might
well; if
he doeth
not the booke must
displease
which should afford pleasure.

find this not like a well arrang'd work,
carefully plann'd throughout.

rise
Such an opinion might

I assure you
from a
slight
knowledge of the design.
that anie
history,
who
will patiently
work out the whole hidden
minding well
my
instructions, shal
make much
106
progresse in th' knowledge that I desire to shewe him,
which
sufficiently
rewards
his
efforts.
Atchieveme't
is
itselfe a
reward, yeelding sweetest renowme.
This of which I
pherer in full possession of

other
now am speaking, putteth the much knowledge he can
decyin
no
way
obtaine, not onely the unpublished history, but
newe meanes communicate

is th'
of transmitting, so that he may, himselfe,

all
kinds of messages, according to his will
and pleasure, and write "omnia per omnia," which indeed

highest degree of such art thou'h fewe have attained
to soe unusuall
knowledge for manie purposes.

that hath not only
Any man
his
who hath
bloud, for
mind
power but a faculty
of invention, hath
way
ills
of getting the
humoures from
it allaieth
paine,
when
clear;
distrust,
discontentment
and
of,
secret woes,
may mildly worke and

may
shal
oft
or wrongs one liketh not to speake
but wounds bleeding
in-
wardly,
be the cause of ulcers yet more malignant,

ill.
or imposthumations sowing seeds of future
So
this
Cypher
be us'd to give
it
my
illes
and tortured thoughts
expression, albeit
doth without doubte, seeme incredible

this principle that a
unto those that
know not
by
man
is
[more] refreshed and cheer'd within the mind by profiting

in lesser matters, then
standing at a stay in greater.
'Tis not of others that I write soe
much,
as of experi-
ences
uncommon, and
I hope to most, impossible, but this
hath beene a me'nes of achievement of a labour for our

fellowes
pell'd
few could performe.

then
If
my
selfishnesse hath im-
me more
was proper, I
trust
somewhat
these
to
knowledge of
like errors in their conducte;
teach
man
to judge his brother leniently.
man must
life,
observe
all sortes
of forme or ceremony in his oute'

its
but the
ruler.
heart hath
own freedome and hath no humane
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
is
107
However, himself e
but meager end to a man's seeking

chiefe, soe also
is
when
it is
made
first
and
hee a poore
middle pointe, center and axis of

is little
least action.
His soule
akin to things
celestiall, if like th'
earth he stand-
eth fast on his center, for things that have afiinity with
th'
heavens,
move on
th' center of another.
If hee
would
not be too earthy, akinne to th' dust, let him go forth in

quest of knowledge, so we wide this true seede which
may
beare fruit to give glad harvests in the Eones to come.
This Cypher doth
tell
our motiv's for a labour

least, as
we com-
menc'd, long since, in so farre, at

,them himselfe.
'Tis lacke of
man knoweth
its
some predominant wish, a

all
longing that putteth in order
others
by
t'
force, that
doth render
th' heart
hard
t'
sound, or
finde; but our
predominant desire shew'd
so plaine the greatest things,

illes
and the
not
least,
in
life, as it
doth nowe seeme, and
can-
make
the purpose weaker.
Long
e't,
yeeres ago,
in th'
when th' Cypher in use at workes we publish as those of authors

past, togather
th' pres-
that
wee
nam'd some time
with
all
published with th'
name by which we
might
safelie
it
are
now known put

its
upo'
of
title
pages,
gave such a good asurance that secrets
great valew
be entrusted to
keeping, strong wish to
make made
soe carry our invention itself e, to other times, also,

it
constante employment of
a necessitie.
'tis
Although
the resolution grew ever stronger,
a thing rare, as you
well know, this keeping of a purpose unalter'd through
every change of a man's

possible; yet are
life,
so difficult as to
seeme imit
we
so firmly fix'd
now
in the resolve,
would be impossible for us
to yeeld it up.
In actus quartus, scena quinta, of the play entituled
Salomon
th'
Second, th' motif clear lie sheweth.
Every
108

its
hart knoweth
not with
its joy.
owne bitter, and a strange' intermeddleth As our story shall be fully decypher'd
Queene Elizabeth, her
whylst confined in
you may understand twoo things that doe not appeare in

anie history written openlie, viz.
secret
union with
;
th'
Earle
o' lieicester
London's Tower
also a story relative to early scandals, this
Queene's intercourse with Seymour, Admirall of England,

sent buzzing through all this realme.
As
a portion of this
history, th' other sad tale giving th' storie of the unwell-
come
late
birth of the Queene's offspring, ourselfe,
and Kobt,
Earle of Essex, and also of Ewe,

is
may
soone reveale
pub-*<
what
our wrong that did
make
meanes securing
lique triall of a waighty case, a necessity.
Our light hath burned lowe, the beames of morning now burst upo' our longing gaze and put to flight the
black night's dragons of brooding gloom.
th'
For ourseKe
secret
future bringeth surcease of sorrowe.
Had we no
is
labours to performe, gladly would
we
listen for th' footfall
of Death, the somber herald; yet our wish

afford our
not as might
own
life pleasure, till
it,
our work, be compleate,
inasmuch
as this is
more
trulie
good and important, wee do
nothing doubt, then the works which our hand openlie

performeth.
Th' want
o'
truth in items our pare't
had recorded,
destiny
\vould hold backe
from
th'
world
all
true knowledge of this

lives'
leaf of her history
which doth cone erne other

all
nearly.
'None write
that doth
shew in our
epistle;
fewe
have seene the
that
would bee
like proofes o'
Holy
Writ; but of
all
which may by eythe' Cipher lend colour of
good or evill to characters here pourtray'd,

such confirmation as doth shut
ask:
wee can give
th' lips of those
who
still
"How
could these things bee?"
IN
It
NOVUM ORGANUM.
passi'g, that
9,
109
must be
said,
seiz'd,
however, in
number
of
papers were
and many have beene subsequentlie

could not wel lay clayme to th' scep-
destroyed, so that
ter,
we
it
and
establish
beyonde
doubt, ev'n whylst our
parents be
known
to
be royall and honourable, being truely

late,
wedded.
Furthermore, being
having like others who

in deliberation,
have bin drawne two waies

th'
lost
much time
face of our claime clouded, so that, questioning of
England's prosperity,
we doubted our proper
right to sever
Brittaine, fortunatelie united, but unfortunatelie king'd.
Love hath
was
th'
good of the dear object most
at heart,
and
with our true love of our kingdome on the one hand, there
th' ability to rule wisely
and
to edify
and build up
th'
broken walls, on the other;
also as
hath beene mentioned

that th' pow'r
before, a firm persuasion in our
owne mind
of a soveraigne doth not shewe most in large domains, in
having more people, but ruling with equity.

be wise to bee great.
as th' prince
is,
A king shall
Th' state
is
as th' sovereigne is; or
ev'n so are the people.
"With firm faith in simple justice for everie suitor, and

divers
ways by which one end, one
goale,
is
won,
this
our
desire hath slightly bent, or diverged,
and tum'd upon
tracks not so well made, so that our object
may some day

doore of hope
be attained, although fate haste to close

0'
th'
entering upon our true right.

Bitter the portio' that wâs ours
till
our mounting
spirit
rose above th' Styx that encircled us, as in th'
under world;
heroes
Greeke poets have sung of the
souls
of ancie't
hem'd round, [that]

in
its
tasted
its
waters, standing breast high
blacke
filth.
In the workes which appeare bearing our plaine name

on
th' title pages, this
doth so manifest
itselfe it
needeth
110

In
th' early
not that wee pause to explaine.

Philosophical!
plain,
Essays and
Workes
it
is
these purposes do stand forth so

love's lost labour to point out the
we
thinke
designe.
However
this is otherwise in th' secret part, for
altho' our apparent designe
must be our
self e-advancement,
th' royall
none can holde that
to
be unpardonable in
prince
whom
stirre
destinie hath despoil'd in so great
degre.
Th'
desire to leave the world true, unbiased history, doth so
and rouse our energies, that we doubt
th'
worst motif
chideth the best by no such question.
Palliation of that
offence x3an bee found, and this long labor be awarded
the honor due this invention.
And
also w^hen
our patient hand and penne, our un-
wearied worker, our discypherer, hath done the part our

devise imposeth on him, there shall not,
we
thinke, be any
minde that doth waigh things

the case
justly,
ill
or well suited as
may
bee, that, seeing th' result of our labor, shall
finde faulte or speake lightlie of our simple planne
which
may
In
thus come forth in complete forme ev'n as created.

th'
beginning our
Word Cypher
is
such as will be
deciphered with most ease, after the designe shall bee fully
seene,
early.
and the entire planne well learned.

In many
o'
It
was in use
all
th'
inventions
ones
one
this
and
smaller
all
booke, or at the most two or three, contained
of a single worke.
This
is
otherwise in our
Word
Cypher,
inasmuch
as the
hidden history extendeth through works
of numerous designes and kinds that have beene put out
from time
lished
to time for severall yeeres.
All workes
we pubhath
under names, have some parts of the

said, for
story, as
beene
our whole Cypher plan doth possesse one
feature
much
to be
commended, that of perf ecte

all shall
safety.
storie
cannot be followed untill
be found.
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
Ill
Tt' different stories being placed therein as our work was

done, none can
chaine bee followed,

as a river
make an end untill th' links o' th' twisted now into one booke, now into another,
historic
doth bende, or roads by manie tortuous waies,
wind by these countrey houses, for no

yet.
hath ended
these
Kone who began to reade Cyphers, came to an end

itself e,
this story, or
worke out
This
of anything, because no
part could be compleated untill
all
bee compleated.
doth grow from the plann
the fragments being kept
many
long yeeres, small portions being used at one time,
sometimes in our Spenser's name, Marlowe's, Peele's and

Shakespeare's, anon Greene's, mine,
also
Ben
Jonson's,
affording our diverse masques another colour, as 'twere, to

baffle all seekers, to
which we
shall
add Burton's.
As when
harried beasts haste to th' shelter of a boskie knoUe
death seemes sure, soe doe wee, in danger, hide in

hills,
these woodie
safe as
any conie 'mid the

deciphering that
rules.
rocks.
This Cyphar will make the
Word Cypher more

all
plaine,
and
it is
chiefly in
ayding
its
others that
have beene found do give some

porta't Cypher,
this, also, is
It
is
our most im-
having
th'
complete story told therein, but
of
much
use giving rules and instructions to
aide in our worke, and setti'g forth th' arguments of
many
workes such as playes, poemes, that are onely the early

translated workes, mentioned
some time ago, in
th'
bookes
wee published
It will
in divers names.
t'
make known
posteritie the reall cause,
as
one
moving
in scenes that are tlius given
must surely underLord of Essex ap-
sta'd better
than others,
of that strange devotedness that
Queene Elizabeth manifested when

peared,
my
(soon pointing to a
that th'
much
scorned sinne) more,
when knowne
newe
favorite
was by right a prince
112

lov'd
who
as
power more then ought upon
earth.
Also, led
hee then was,
many
courtly matters or great affaires
were
as puppet's gyrations or
mad, jesting quips, winning
his notice little.
Most persons in
my
lord's liking,
but
least
honoured,
who
served honourably, however, in the forraine fighting,
will perhaps
come under men's censure when the truth is made knowne; whilst most of our Irish troopes found
th' intentions their leader
they had not well understood
had cloaked in
his
owne high
by
spirit or
bold
will.
He found
which conadventured
simple and quite easy wayes of binding

treasonable undertaking,
men
to th' great
a representation
tayn'd but a modified figure of truth.

fortunes soe unthinkingly, that
Men
mine
of their hope
was
ruine against which nothing availed.

It cannot
now
alter th' fates of anie,
high or lowe,
it is
if
the matter bee giv'n a full rendering as
now foimd
herein; but our great struggles in the interesse of Earle
Robert, have
many most
saith:
indisputed retumes ev'n as the

as
Holy Scripture
doe mete
it
"With such measure
ye yourself
shall
be meted to you."
plays co'taine all our historie so truelie
But other Cyphe'

wherein
forthe.
th'
recorded, our whole life can be scene spread like a map,
winding course of many streames are limn'd

to
Longing
bee no more held imworthy,
ac-
compted unfaithful of those

of all
ill
whom wee
honor'd, and, worst

it
that doth visit mortall, disregarded of posterity,
doth barre us from houres of despayring melancholic, and

bringeth to th' minde a vision, so sweete and assuring, that
wee have found a great
solace in our
life,
work even when
writ-
ing th' story of our early
or writing the harrowi'g exe-
cution scene of that deare Earle Robt., or Prince Robt. as
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
name
of that brother,
113
we should
speake the
since
'tis
well for us to
make
th'
horror of that murther as familiar
as other sensations.
We
there
mention
is
this part of th'
work frequently, because

th' least as
nowe
least
nothing as importante, or at
much
ill.
talked of, as this event that was mildly pass'd over at.
first,
our royall mother should worke us a worse

th'
Aee entreat
decyphera by every arte of speech that

th'
wee possesse to heede our request, and decypher

which wee speake ere the pleasure he hath
play of
felt in his taske
may
disappeare.
If this be done faithlesse
men
will not
jonge have th' daring to throw anie question of doubt upon
our conducte.
When
all is
knowne and understoode,
there
will be nothing but approvall,
where there was once harsh
judgement.
But
self e
of
some
little
matters, appertaining rather to
my-
then others,
th'
decypherer
may
followe his owne
wishes.
In our
earliest play,
slightlie
young boy, subdued

they have tasted
is the happy spirrit of a by our future into whose
gloomie depths, plunging, wee tasted a bittemesse such as
who
drinke the waters of Styx.
When
still
remaine
our owne worke hath beene compleated there will many things for a discipherer to doe if hee
would winne reward.

farewell to earth and
When
our time shall come for our^

of joy or paine, our
is
all its gifts
work
must
still
proceed since our inve'tion

is still
not yet discem'd.
Our
hope, however,
strong,
and
faileth not, that ere
long our story shall burst

truth
known
of
all
men.
its cereme'ts and rise to make the Then must our name bee knowne
farre as man's foot hath trod,

lost in th' present,
and that which hath beene
may be
recover'd in th' future.
114

as the
A man's life consisteth not,
Holy Scripture
is
saith,
of eating or drinking but of that life which
within us,
perpetuall as the Creator of earth and the heavens, and hee
doth not cast
off all
care that he hath carried in his hart.
He
leaveth behind
a hold
upon
th'
him some kind of labour and that taketh future making ev'n th' life on this earth as
itselfe.
enduring as the globe
This
is
true onely as th'
labour shall bee a worthie one, that
may
well endure, for
such things of similar proprietie to stubble, doth burn as
hay and
There
heart,
st'aw,
is
and disappeare.
i'
vanity and some pride

his steps
th' noblest
humane
which drive
but nature.
on in
th'
path he doth pursue,
and
'tis
As when
sunnelight maketh th' plant
growe upwar',
so this light of nature driveth our shoots out
in profuse, f arre-reaching vines.
His fruit
its
may
not ripen
in his daye, and the taste
may
prove
quality unsavorie
it is,
when
and
it
it
shall be brought into
th' bins,
but his owne
could afford none other ought of blame or prayse.
When
you have fully decypher'd

'tis
this,
you
will not at
once see our nexte worke, since

matters of a private nature.
of our Word-Cipher.
publisht to co'ceale
You
will find therein
more
This to which you give
th' greater
part of your time, if

^hitherto imparted,
is
you followe
also
th' directions
it,
wee have
beene
It
it is
emploied in
having
given to convey instruction concerning our
tra'slations.
will co'taine large portions of all hidden epistles, for
our bin or
th'
granary into which the various kinds and
sortes gather'd are
put awaiting the hands of

is
th' sower,
who, as you knowe,
our owne well beloved discypherer.

title
Th' worke beareth the
of th'
Anatomy
of Melancholy
and
will bee put forth
by Burton.
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
of those Shakespeare plays
115
With
&-oone
this are
many
wee
will
bring forth, for our work cannot be carried to com-
pletion without them.
As wee have
said
bookes containe these twoo Cyphers, soe
many when
times, our
our discyfirst
pherer doth see anie works of ours, he knoweth at the

cursory glance,
it
doth speak to him verie forcibly and
make
th'
a plea for aide, that, a prisoner
may
bee
set free.
It shall well
repaye his time, and his hart shall rejoice in
rich treasure that shall
come
to
gladen and
fill
his
thoughts.
The matter
which
is
not at
all
times joyous but

to
it is
truth, in
men
are coimselled always
rejoyce.
In our
plaies, just
spoken of as being in the name of a
living, there is still
more of
this secret historic.
man By
not
fol-
lom^g our good
friend's advice
we have not
would,
lost that
maske
not,
tho' our Shakespeare
noe longer
liveth, since
twoo others,
1
fellowes of our play actor,
publish those playes,
who would
we doubt
work
G^ti^Zt/i
disguise our
as well.
This wil not, however, bee done untill a most auspicious

time.
Much work must

desirable,
be accomplished in a short time
if
manie new plays should bee added which doth now seeme
inasmuch
as it suiteth us farre better
it
then prose
or a lighter verse, whilst

readers.
giveth more satisfaction to our
Represented on our stage they give more pleas-
ure
still,
and yield their author much more, be

is
it
in gold,
or in honour, since th' theater
becoming more popular.

comedie and
but those already put
Our
plaies are of diverse kindes, historic,
tragedie.
Many are upon
th' stage,
forth in
"Wm. Shakespeare's name, we doe nothing doubt, have won a lasting fame, comedy, th' historick drama and tragedy, are alike in favour. For this reason wee have
116
resolv'd to write in these formes, tho' tragoedie doth

to th' sensiblest
come
mindes mo'
easily,
because to such, high
and
tragicall things are

reall,
more
suited then those that are
onely somewhat
too crude, vile
yet
much
too nice and daintie, or
and
unfit.
As
for historicall drama,
some principall and important
facts require gracing with such elegancies as
wee
and
see
many
doe admire and praise.
'Tis th'
changing
shifting
movement
tion,
that doth catch the eye, and please the imaginaall
and plays of
kinds seeme manie times to give delesse attracted us in
light in th' action,
which have
it is
our
study.
Candidly speaking,
better to consult men's
liking then their judgements, but writing truthfully, there

shall
be no
sacrifice
here to hurt the sense or lose sight of

are expos'd, be they ours or others,
the ayme.
Wrongs
and
ofte of unpleasantly plaine character.
We
stood close at
hand and saw thinges with
cleare eie to write
them
in this
record, having desir'd with exceeding desire of the heart to
be giv'n a righteous judgment in matters of most import
and
interest
t'
ourselfe, yet of worth, finally, to others,
inasmuch
as there
would bee without
[it]
noe true
historic
left to other times.
This shall bee
th' great
work of
this age.
Its
fame
shall
spread abroad to farthest lands beyonde th' sea and as th'
name
too,
of Fr.
Bacon
shall
bee spoken, that of his
disci-
pherer, joined with his owne,
must receive equall honour,
when
this invention
doth receive reward.

at
Hee
it is,
our fellowe,
who hath kepte

vision
work despight manie

eyes,
temptation to give waie, as some doe.
With propheticke
and
light.
our
looking into
.
th'
future, see th' day that give' these
Cypher
histories life
Glad must
th'
day be
to all that helde
our
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
harme should
117
story in closed bosomes that no
befall us.
It
is
Love, waki'g in fear, shall rejoice with untold joy.

a simple historic
wee must owne, yet
'tis
soe closelie interit
woven with many more knowne and renowned

with reflex honour.
shineth
Let him not grow weary nor leave following our queast
if
he would recover his rightes of reward.
It needeth not
it
that our eies look on this
worke in order that
should
come forth
rules
It
in the
forme soe
desired, nor that our
hand
divers
pointe out each step his feete must tread, for the
and directions leade him
so that
he shall not
falt'r.
may
bee well
th'
now
as
we approach
the end, to give

will find in
summaries of
Cypher,
numerous workes which he

us'd,
and the methodes wee have

^ve of which are nam'd
of the plays
we have not long

number,
since spoken in this place as thirteene in

as histories, five as his-
toricall tragoedies, three as comedies.
Of
all these, in
one
to
work
aide
or another, keies
and arguments may bee found
the
discypherer.
latter
Th' former are his indispensable
guides,
the
ayde him greatly to re-build these
broken, scattered pallaces.
Th'
histories are not completed, at this writing, in their
exteriour
masque.
Comming
as
latelie
into
newe honours
and newe duties wee have,
may
be supposed, written
much
lesse
then formerly.
All interiour worke, neverthefor th' incorporation
lesse, is
completed, and
made ready
into these divers works.
of these plaies here foUowe The Life of ElizThe Life of Essex: The Life and Death of Edward Third; The White Rosse of Brittaine; Th' Life of King Henrie the Sevent; The Earle of Essex (my late brother);
Th'
titles
abeth;
Earle of Leicester (our late
sire);
The Life
of Marlowe;
118

o'
Anne Bnllen; Mary Queene
Scots;
Th' Seven Wise
Men
Trap.
of the
West; Solomon the Second; and The Mouse

Th' Iliad and Odyssey of
Besides the playes, three noteworthie translations
are found in our workes, viz.
Homer, and the ^neid of

There and
Virgil, togather with a
number
poemes.
of lesser workes of this sort, and a few

is
short
also the story, in verse, of th'
Spanish Armada,
th' story of
my owne
life.
The
love,
last
nam'd
co'taineth
the wooeing of our
owne dear
these hidden love poemes,
and the
o'
this
Marguerite of
story of our misforlingers.
tune in France, the
memory
which yet
Wee
have sometime found our other inventions of some
worth, in our worke, and Ave have spente occasionall idole
minutes making such maskes serve instead
of
the
two
of
Cyphers
so
much
us'd, for of soe
many good methodes

that the
speaking to the readers of our workes, wee must quite naturally have a preference, and
wee owne
Wordin-
Cypher seemeth
vented.
to us superiour to all others
wee have
We
have, however, devis'd six which wee have
us'd in a
few of our bookes.
These are the
Bi-literall;
Wordd;
Capital Letter; Time, or as more oft call'd Clocke;
Symboll; and Anagrammaticke.
The
first,
surely, needeth
noe explanation
[it]
if
our inve'tion have beene found out;

it
demandeth
fuller instructions, if
be
still
unseene;
a most cleare playne ensample shall

soe that hee
make
it
stande forth
It doth re-
who but runneth
b}^ shall reade.
quire some fine worke of the tooles as well as of th' minde.

Jêxt the great
Cipher spoken of soe frequentlie,

'tis
tearm'd
th'
most importante invention, since
of farre
greater scope,
rules
shall heere
bee againe explained.
More
and instructions are necessarie then were needed in
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
119
any of the
others, but in the first work, only such as will
be readilie seene neede be sought.
These now followe:

be used in
Keyes are used

this
to pointe out the portions to
worke.
These keies are words imploied in a naturall

capitalls,
and common wave, but are mark'd by

these, or
the paren-
by frequent and unnecessarie
iteration; yet all
these are given in the other Cypheres also

cipher's part lesse difficile.
making the
de-
Next
place
it
assort carefully all th' matter thus obtained
and
will,
in boxes and drawers for timely use.

little
There
with a
observation, bee discerned wordes
which are
repeatedly used in the same connection.
These must bee
noted specially since they form our series of combining or
joyning wordes, which like the marks
th' builder putteth
on the prepared blockes of stone shewing the place of each

in the finisht building, pointe out with unmistakable dis-
tinctnes
its
relation to all other parts.
This will shewe the
fiecessitie of
keeping everything ready and orderly.
As
whilst writing these interior works these keies and

it
joining words did deter th' advancement,

contrarie effecte on this part of th' designe,
shall
work a
and
th' part of
our ready decypherer
is
made
easie for his hand, but his
sight shal accordinglie have neede to bee as th' sight of

th'
keene-ey'd eagle,
if
hee would hunt this out, losing
nothing.
A part of our life relating and linking itselfe to

ill
another
marked degree,
as
no doubt you know, required more

the
time and studie then
all
Queene-mother concern'd,
Not onely was our whose life we have dulie set

rest.
still
forth in th' dramas mention'd, but one dearer, and as our
memorie doth painte
her, fairer
then the fairest of our
120
English maydens, sweet traitresse tho'

her,
we should tearme
Marguerite
our pearle of women.

wee emploi'd words
to set off these por-
In order
to indicate clearly the parts belonging to our
early love story,

tions,
using those wee have spoken
of
in
Ciphers, such familiar and
comon termes
as
as th'
number of mind and
every faculty or power, memorie, reason and-so-forth, also

heart with
its affections,
wee tearme
th' spirit
th'
emotions or
passions slightly understood,
and
soule.
These
accompanying a key-word shewe that

eth to the part of
this portion belong-
my
history I have just mentioned in this

th' decy-
waye.
Th' same keies were employed and yet

so
pherer shal finde his guides thus indicated
easily, it
would truely be
arguments
ter of
difficile, as it
doth appeare, to goe astray.

cleare, or those
is
For other workes our joyning-words are

so fully given, th' discyphering
this
onely a mat-
time and patience, but
would surely not be
wanting in the
man who
hath worked out the Bi-literall
Cipher that doth require soe much.
In many places will there bee found instruction for the

discypherer and in divers waies, so that, fayling one, he
should see others, as hath noe doubt beene discov'r'd since

this Bi-literall
Cypher hath made everything
cleare,
shewit
ing the workes that joyne, and giving ayde as often as
may
pleat
bee required.
it
The
designe, however, being so com-
should seeme a thing that
men
of keene eyes and
quick minde
.
may
discover readily and pursue with ease.
Of
my
devices nothing excells that of th'
employment
Tables
of words in
common
all
use to direct our decypherer.
should .contayne
such because no man's memorie can

all will clearlie
long retayne such a number of words; but

see
how
great an advantage
it
must bee
to
bee able to
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
common
121
masque
all
our divers pen names in
tearmes, so
naturallie, that not a
man
of
common
intelligence will sus-
pect the presence of anything of a secret nature.
The
tion.
preparation and distribution of th' Cypher wordes
requir'd
much
time and this time was soon at
my
disposi-
Th' numerous works that will be sent forth, soone,
will prove the truth of
my
assertion of a ceaselesse indus-
try
and an unflagginge
zeale.
Iô one living in the midst
o' th'
tumults and distractions which are found in our great
townes could (could) better hold to a purpose,

years younger, in truth, then
I,
but a few
me
which
for
it
stirred within
when
first
was told of
my
great birth, and tooke forme
shortly after that scene at th' Court of our mother

led soe quickly to
and care of
stantly, untill
Sir
my be'ng sent Amy as Paulet.
to
France in
th'
company
It
waighed on
me
con-
I devis'd a
waye by which I could communiyou know, and
cate this strange thing to th' world, as

restlesse
my
minde
unsatisfied with one or

triall
two good Cyphers,
continually
made
of
new
contrivances, in order to
write the true story fully, that wrongs of this age bee
right in another.
made
As my work hath
late,
beene, from
my
it
earlie
youth untill of
one of unflagging
say manie
intereste, I
have made great propleasing at

first,
gresse in Cypher-writing, finding
Î
may
times
mildlie
in
exciting.
But one must

o^ th'
is
wearie of th' one
now
employment on accompt
unchangeablenesse of the worke, for variety

possible to this
almost im-
kinde of Cyphar, and nothing availeth to

it
applie witty invention in this waye, if
bee not clearly
shewn, for without helpe
th'
most constant of discypherers

it
must finde many

attention,
shifts
weariesome, as
must require more
and therefore some of
my
labour
may
be hidden
most compleatly from every eye.
122

Whilst
it is th'
object of such work, in

desir'd this to
its
nature and
use,
none could suppose I
be soe conceal'd
that no future discypherer

secret.
may
lift
the vayle from

devices
my
If that should occur,
numerous
which
have grown in
secretlie,
many
directions, this waie
and
that,
it
but
dayes
and
like a root turning in th' soyle as
extendonlie of
eth,
^have a grave in
my
work where I thought

Life
is
giving hiding for a
little.
too precious,
its
too fleeting, to be so used if noe time should ever

roll
come to
away from
is
th'
door of th' sepulcher this great stone.

th'
It
not easie to reveal secrets at
same time that a

wel con-
Avail to
guard them
it
is built^
but
this
hath beene attempted,

not, for tho'
how
successfull
shal be, I
it,
know
trived so no one has found
the cleere assurance cometh
onely in th' dreemes and visions of th' night, of a time
when the
from
all
secret shall bee fully reveal'd.

it
That
it
it
shall
not
be now, and that

eyes in
shall
be then
that
shall
be kept
my
owne
time, to bee scene at

is
some future
daye, however distante
my
care,
my
studie.
With manie
of
things in hand, now, I devote somewhat less
my time to Cyphers, and my good assistant promise

containe the storie of
had I not in
of
th'
Cypher, giv'n
things to aide
many
is
little
liim, this
should not continue.
Since the part which doth
my
birth
one I cannot have
lost,,
it is
frequently giv'n.
th'
Th' directions to
decipherer oft occur, for
it
cannot
bee that hee doth decypher everything I write, yet

part be done,
th' history;
it
if
but a
would bee
sufiicient, doubtlesse, to
reveale
but I must strive to soe double
th' rules as
write, that
no
failure shall bee possible.
At
o'
the
first,
asto-
sured that th' interesse doth increase each houre, change
matter lesse personall, led would-be delvers

matter, to followe noe longer.
hidden secret
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
much
123
No
doubt
my
Avanderings
resemble the chatter a
senseless creature of Caliban's
temper and nature might
give out
is
if
hee were to speak in a secret manner, but such
my
designe.
And
it
hath so well preserved
my
historie
it
for
many
yeares fro' th' sight of inquiring eyes, that
seemeth
at last necessarie,
in th' revelation,
thie
and but
owne
little
danger doth lurk
to
put forth a full treatise on

to use all ordinarie
my
wor-
Cyphars to shew that
methods of
if
giving one's message to th' world suficeth not,

to pick out and choose his
one wish
readers.
little
Therefore there
is
soone to bee a
work which
shall
set cleerlie forth these artes that
have held many,
many
secret
from
my
times to carry
it
it
on
[to] th' great future.
If there bee none to decipher
at length,
how many weary

the constancy of
rest,
days will have beene
hope in our brests
lost;
yet
such
at
is
^we
hold to th' work without
firmly trusti'g that coming times and th' future
men
of
our owne, and other lands, shall
last
rewarde these
labours as they soe manifestly shall deserve.
Though
ance that
it
shal not
happen in mine owne day,
this assuiv
it
cannot
fail to
come
It
forth in due time,

is
maketh
to wait,
weary labour
lesse tiresome.
noe doubt long
but whatever should have beene ordain'd by that Supreme
Govemour
mounteth
of our lives doth give such a satisfaction,

it
it
doth fully sustaine and succour th' heart, so that

all fears.
surth'
If some call
it
vanitie, I
must make
wise man, his timely replie, for

truelie vanitie,
all
things
is
upon earth are

and
and the
spirit
thereby
vext.
What
care?
remaineth to
man
at th' last of all this labour
Ought?
Shall he leave
the
dearest labours, th'
great designes, th' marvayles that he hath wrought, and
beare from hence to that
new
life a
memory
onely, or, it
124
BI-LITBRAL CYPHER
be,
OB^
FRANCIS BACON.
loose his hold
is
may
even
lesse?
Must hee
all?
upon
all
earthlie
obj^ts to take hold on that that

all
eternal?
Must
hee part from

survive
'tis
and leave
Ay; and
yet, if his arts
wel
as
hee can naturallie wish.
If hee
may have
knowledge, when
th' last
long night of
death oppresseth him, seeling the eyes and shutting from
him the
died
blessed light of day, that the things that he loved

also, it
not
wil not bee utter losse, utter oblivyon.
Shall not his soule live after him?
Surely; nor can you
or I have that farre sight that looketh into the future,
and
we knowe
preme,
'tis
that
by the Divine wisdome of the Ruler Su-
soe ordain'd.
But one thing may

is,
serve well
when we
take departure, and that

it
to leave
many and
hand can
successe,
widelie varied work';
could not bee that nought could

th'
bee sav'd from a vast quantitie, and ought

produce shall
have a greater worth

a wish in
at such a distant dale.
With many
my
minde for honours,

alter
approvall, I put these things away, as th' Saviour put Satan
behind him, and do not for a moment

mination to make good this time, and
future day.
my
fixt deter-
this labour, at
some
times
as-
But
of this I have spoken so
many
already, I fear that

sistant
my
patient, but not
super-humane
may have become
awearie, and have giv'n over th'
pursuite of this strangely hidd'n story.

It
might surely bee
lesse tiresome to
him
if
my
story
might be made cleare in a single worke, but there would

have bin such danger, in soe writing out
my
secret, it
would but bee well commenced before

mine.
foUow'd
th'
it
would work
my
Tor the good of
all
these companions
who have
my
fortunes in th' shifting, changing scenes at
Court, and elsewhere, as well as for
my
advantage, I
strive to continue th' history; yet duties of office
do rarelie
IN
permit
NOVUM ORGANUM.
this
^^^Nôrk,
125
me
to doe
much with
th'
which
will ac-
compte for a few of
mistakes that have occurred.
But, truth to say, severall of the plays that I

to
am
about
occu-
put forth are yet incomplete, and I am, too,
much
pied with a work on the life of
my
m'temall great grande-
father, which doth include most of my Cypher plaie, The White Rose of Brittaine. Many earlier plaies are to bee somewhat alter'd in order to have some portiones of my
historic
put into
whicl).
th'
Cypher.
'Tis of th' great
key-word
Cyphar of
for
I
it,
by
th'
use of
am speaking, I may make
chief e of these inveHions,
a work of beautie, as you
know, while some of these being of such [nature] that

they are not easily kept in minde are easily overlookt like
the
way
of ships on the ocean.

this,
Bui by no other then

without change.
which I hope you are

in
at pres-
ent following, doth anie epistle continue

If I wish to
our worke
triall
make such
of
my
work
as
must
it
occasionally
be done, you
can
doubtlesse
th' ex-
understand
periment.
requireth onely a few dayes to

a little time
th' epistle
make
With
and patience, therefore, I

is.
can easily finde what
In many I have plact rules and instructions but in some

parts I have written th' thoughts haunting
rest.
my
hour of
If th' decyphercr
to
is
to finde out th' rules, each part
must convey
him
a secret message.
If
it
shall not
be
found in every
part. I could
have
little
assurance of any of
my
epistles
coming Cypher
forth, since
no one might accidentally
come upon widely

Bi-literall
scatter'd fragments.
is
unlike others in respect to
this, for
while
it
doth change the subjectes more frequently than

its
anie other,
course
is
continuous.
all
If
my owne
storie
be written out fully and
mles and instructions for a
126
decyph'rer in th' other inventions be be

as
left til
made
out,
it
may
then
such other decyphering shall have beene finished
hath beene most frequently mentioned, taking care in

case, or for
no
noe
reaso' of lesse value, in fact

let
then mat-
ters of
prime importance, [to]
anything distract your
minde.
And
lie
if since
making the
discoverie of this that
is
here
used there have beene found
many an
exhortatio' fervent-
beseeching you to continue your labours, consider these

I,
doubled.
that
it
[ay] let this great
number bee
th'
so increast
all
cannot bee forgotten, that

is
cheef e of
my
in-
ventions
the key- word Cypher.

first,
Therefore
wish to
have
shall
it
given
and most, of your time after

an end.
this
worke
have come
it is
to
Whilst
true regarding that
Cypher of which I
bee found,
speak,
much must
decypher
yet be written, and that none can learn

full instructions
how
to
it till
may
I am
my
giv-
ing great attention to th' completion of severall plays that

containe
all th'
instructions,
time
much
so
will
not permit
the
great catalogue to swell to

'tis
greater proportions; but

tirelesse
trulie colossall already,
and doth approove
spirit.
The work hath occupied

set forth
much
as a habit
than a matter of free choice

purposes
time,
it is
more
other
^but for
good and well

tinued.
this
work hath
soe con-
Also new devices were to have beene made plain, but

the complete illustration of these artes
sh'll
be found in
pleasure in
some
later
work, for
it
hath given
me
no
little
the imploiment of these contrivances, knowing so

th'
much
of
Cypher would no doubt be a sealed booke, even to the

first partes.
decypherer of the
And
no decypherer will
it
make
of this a cause o'
complaint e, for
afiordeth to
him
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
man
137
a newe mysterie and the minde of
ever doth rejoice

relish of the chase
most in that forme of search that hath a

therein.
Therefore, whilst I
last
am
still
in very good hope
that
sort,
my
contrivance
is
is
not^solv'd,
noe feeling of anie
save kindlinesse,
in
my
soule toward
my
decy-
pherer.
If he discover the key of
my newe
invention, himself e,
to his credit.
before
it
bee explained,
it
shall
redound
Much
de-
as hath
beene the case in
all discoveries
worthy of note
soe
since man's creation, this

lighte, whilst it
may
furnish
him
much
doth occupie his minde, that time shall
seeme
short.
In
my
History of
Henry Seventh
this shall
all bee explained.
But
as I
doe not accompte

is
th'
time wasted which one

taske of publishing
may
soe imploy, soe difficult
my
my
that
plays under th'
name
of one
who hath
departed,
being out already, but
an almost equall number new,
manie
much of my thought in leasure houree is upon the questio' how it may bee done. For the purposes of the Cypher it
is
required that no alteratio' be made, for that
manner
that
I have adopted shewing different workes by
common words
discipherer will
must not
suffer unnecessarie change.
The
which
doubtlesse need all the assistance
can
thus
be
giv'n nor could I

correspo'sive
now
so alter the
new, without making a

print,
change in that now in
a thing
soe
nearly impossible as to be out of
all questio'.
Taking carefuU thought
of
these conditions, I have
made choyce already

able.
of meanes to give great ayde to a disis
cypherer, while no doubte of the matter or motive
probat th'
To make use
might
still
of
many masking names
same time, without some way of instructing

pherer,
resulte in the losse of
my
discy-
more labour
at length
128

It openeth a
then I have yet expended.
new
invention in
a place well occupied, as shall be seen, with one little

pe'ceyv'd.
It cannot bee that
bread which
is
is
cast
on waters taketh
othe' then a cours' that
intended.
all
How
might
it
then
give promise that shall requite
teaching found in God's sacred

thus
if it saith,
who Word?
soe obey th' holy
"Caste thy bread,"

soe
"upon those surges."

it
Ay,
must ye
doe,
yee would have

I,
back once more when
many
dayes and
moneths,
[ay] and long, long yeeres are swept into the
abyss of eternity.
Without one
foorth
question, then,
my owne
fruit
hand must send

and flourishing
so as
upon the wast of waters,
boughes from fruit-bearing garden es, that one finding

rich
and abundant harvest,
may
trace
them backewards
of
hath already beene mentioned, to this garden
mine
wherein
'Tis
all
have come to perfection of rondnes.
my
Cypher that
'tis
is
portant labour yet

it
so
now my constant and more immuch to the banishment of care

lesse for one's personall busispirit to these
might well bee thought

then as
th'
nesse,
as it
unbending
to
amusements,
must bee knowne
my
decypherer such a thought
doth sort with

sta'di'g
my
wishes and in this fortunate misunder-
doe I owe the safetie of

not so
difficile to
my
work.
it
It
is
keep a secret while
shall
bee
unsuspected because none turneth over so much, bookes

that seeme to have but a simple
and single method of im;
parting his thoughtes, or th' results of his experiments but

if
once the booke hath an ayre of mystery, noe secret can
bee secure and safe in such keeping.

I thought not, however, to
as
my
most worthy
Bi-literall
it
has
make a device so compleate now proven, and its comdifficult to
pletenesse
may make
very
shew forth
this
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
129
designe clearlie, yet at the same time guard the treasure

that
first
it
keepes.
It certaynlj requireth as
much
wit as th'
inventio',
is
though much
in
lesse pleasure
cometh therein.
it,
It
so
much
my minde
that I speak thus oft about

it
and take
my
decypherer into confidence, as
were, which
doth shewe one of those strange weakenesses of soules in-
drawn, like mine, since

that a demonstration
it
needeth noe proofe of the fact

if
would be wholly unnecessary
there
were anie
man
living in the world
who
could understand
these things here hidden; but I speake or write as if the
discypherer sat at
deliberations.
my side
to take part
when
required in th'
Many times
tliis
I have a sense of
my kinde
com-
panion's presence, yet at the bottome of every other desire,

is
a hope that
Cypher
shall
not have beene scene or
read
when my summons
an impossible
state,
shall
come.
Therefore tranquil-
lity is
it
and I
am
torn betwixt feare that

all
bee too well hid, and a desire to see

this
my
devices for
transmitting
wondrous
history, preserved
and be-
que'th'd to a future generatio', undiscovered.
The wish
that
none of
soe happily occupieth
my day may discover the Cypher my owne thought, there is time for
aire
hope to try her wing in that uppe'
above
th' skies,
where
it is
so clear
and
still th' evills
of life are forgotten,

"Will
feare, for a time, conquered
and
co'fin'd.
my
part
in the task be anie the lesse a great benefit e to mankind,
or a worthy
monument
to
my own
name, because secret?
'Tis the king,
or prince if the stile do better please
some
who
are of co'viction that an uncrown'd soveraigne hath

to such a distinction,
no right
In
that speaketh,
and
it is
true history that will be herein related.

th'
Parasceve that foUoweth, a number of short tales
of th' life in our royall parent's reig-ne
must be sought.
130

th'
These have never yet beene put where

arte
discypherer^s
luster to
to
would be of
use, but royall
power giveth a
these quaint tales.
Do
not, pray, relinquish
your work
decypher others wherein fairer labour doth seeme
to lie.
There are seasons for

observe.
all to
be brought foorth, as you shall
Crowd
nothing further
till
when
th'
the discovery
is
fully completed, I beg,
this
and
two other Cyphers

to sight.
of which I have spoken most, have
come
There
may
be a part of
my
tale concerning a
Newe
say,
Atlantis printed,
a part onelie being used in the other
Cypher.
It hath as yet bin in question, as I
may
there having bin some plans in
my
minde which have
beene, as
we
all
say, discussed
throughly with deliberation,
weighing
to
the^ro**, and msLnie coil's, to

th' result.
make
th'
it
cleare
myselfe what mil be

really
Will
discypherer
be thereby
ayded and made joyfuU in a work
alreadie prepared for one folowing,
from
whom must
be
requir'd
all his
more
dutious, obedient, co'sta'cy of devotion of
powers then might naturallie bee expected?
This
must ever continue unto
my
minde an open
is it
question, haptriall.
pily or otherwise, yet nightly
allowed a
But
there
must come
sit
lesse interessed
judges to court.
Men
to
cannot
in judgement, to passe sentence,
who
wish
adventure their fortunes
both as plaintiffs,
and on
defense; all are too
much
given to that self-love borne in
the hearts of weake mortalls.
There can bee no correct
opinions given, if the judgement bee warpt or twisted, but
the man's wishes rule his minde; therefore, I say, the wis-
dome might bee questioned of anie decisions which I might râch, or, when all hath beene said and done, I might
myselfe be no better pleased.
There are more such questions then can be answer'd
IN
NOVUM ORGANUM.
131
here in th' time that doth remaine, yet I beleeve
my
dis-
cypherer to be
much accustomed
if this
to
these
debates,
wordy musi'g,
modest
It
th'
paradoxe will be more cleare.
shall bee scene that to

co'fessor,
my
minde the discypherer
is
who
listeneth behind a lattise to
what I
do impart; and
so discreet is he, a
word doth nere
circulate
which hath beene given

Indeed he
across the
is
to his eare.
to
me
a friend
who can
reach out his hand
abysm
of the ages, and give such aide as none
present hath given, or in truth can give to me, in labour

of wondrous pow'r, inasmuch as herein
is
writ a history of
that most remarkable royale daughte' of the
Tudors who
united qualities
little
esteem'd, to traits worthie of the
soveraigne of soe important a nation as England

beth, daughter of
Eliza-
grandedaughter of him
Henry the Eighth, and therefore th' who was wise enough, or had such
wise counsel to guide him, that he established himselfe
upon the strongest claime, but with a prudent forethought,

learn'd
from
earlie
experience,
caste
behind him that
enticing one of conquest.

If
my
title
were given away too weakly, 'twas through

that kingdomes got
wisdome gained in part from the lesson that hee thus

earlie acquired,
i.
e.
by conquest may
a necessity
as to
be
lost
by the same.
as large
Without doubt I should repente

it
employement of such meanes when

to
became
maynetain
same.
an army
a
to holde th'
power
win
the
Not being
souldier,
though not whollie
opposed in
to
my
naturall temper to armes, I

is
am
well inclined
satisfactory
knowledge, which
to
my
live
minde
farre
more
then anie honours,
It hath beene ere this very well said:
"A
soldier's
name doth
but an age, a scholar's unto
eternity."
132
And
paine wliich
is
surely th' constante attendant of

life
studies, better suiteth
with this
to
then mirth and

vanities,
follies,
and hee that can say
pompes and
"Tempt me
not," conquer eth all other temptation.
No
one can sub-
due worldlie passions without most worthy demonstratio'

that
to
power
is
beneath
th'
apparent morall weaknesse.
'Tis
this
myselfe and
my
discypherer that I
am now making
confession, not to th' world,
and
it
needeth not to saye to
one of his discernment, I speake to give some one beside

myselfe entrance to the Councell Chambe' of
my
heart.
True
that
it
must not weigh much, for
'tis
th' restlesse heart
is
thus making frequent arguments
mth
itself e,
ask-
ing, with Pilate,
"What
shall
is
truth?"
By no meanes
who knoweth
sion,
wordy arguments proove that one

is
his birth
royall,
but
is
barr'd
from
succes-
can soe
-&x his
thoughts on things of price, that there
are noe mome'ts of regret.
The booke
shall tell
all.
In
perfect trust, to
you I bequeathe
my
labours.
FRANCIS BARON OF VERULAM.
IN
THE PARASCEVE.
133
THE PARASCEVE.
Speculative thoughts doe
relate, yet
still
their
owne unsure hope

ofte
must I undoe the story of our times soe
spoken
of, tho' it is folly in
a royale prince whose birth-
righte hath, like Esau's, bin given to another, to spend

his
time in opposing the wrongs of his unblemished heart
to such as
would jeere or laugh
at his paine.
There
is
one
in
whom wee may
not onelie confide with childlike faith
a spirit seldome scene
^but
upon
whom we may
put
off a
worke too important to lye hidd'n longer then

This
necessarie.
we neede
not say
is
our unfaltering, ever constant,
decyph'rer.
In
the' following pages, as
this historie
be co'tinued.
reach'd.
it
we previously mentioned, will Be faithfull till the last page

This
shall
have beene
Aphorisme somewhat
co'tayns of interesse, for
doth reveale to
This
is
my
faithful
friend the
name
I should beare.
Tudor.
Since
Elizabeth was
and by right
purple.
my mother, 'tis my owne lawfuU cognomen, my brow deserv'd th' rigoU, my body roabs of
knowne, that these things were
It is a truth little
not well understood, but none doubt witnesses and papers

of such a nature as those seen or heard co'ceming th' same.
In nine places
is
this told in
some Cyphe' or
if too
other, that
it
cannot well bee omitted.

this discreet
Indeed,
and patient discypherer
many times seen, must make wise selecout,

it
tion
and leave that which hath previously beene work'd

th'
but
is
decipherer should omit none of the pages since
quite important that
everything published.
directions.
he should know what is co'tain'd This now sufficeth by waye
in
of
To resume
a narratio' o' th' event of this secret
marriage.
134
Whilst
my
it is
mother, the Queene, lay prisoner in London

Earle,
Tower she wedded the

of
my father
Robert Dudley
my
whom
suppos'd the young princesse had become so
enamor'd
philter,
that, to
produce a like passion in his heart a love

assistant
which an
by some
strategia administered,
set
seale, tho'
was made.
To such a
tho't
can I never
there be in my minde no doubt of her great fondnesse for my youthfull, well-favor'd sire. They came into our world,
not th' same daie onelie, but the same houre.
To
the
phantasie soe abnormall as the Queene's, this was proofe of

destiny.
It
might perhaps be
a questio'
whether a Divine
acte.
foretho't determined all that
grew from that
Some
that as
as hath
would
it
ascribe a part at least to evill spiritts.
Be
may, one fact doth remaine, shee was wedded,

said,
beene
and he that addresseth you in these various

o'
Cyphers was borne a prince
our mighty countrie.

his naturallie
Now
spirit
must he humble the pride of

to
haughty
obey mandate of his inferiours, but mankind must
know,
^tho' this
have come upon a prince of the realme
in former times,
th'
injustice
is
great
we
may
say,,
beyond
all
fortitude of mortal
minde
to endure.
spirit
Another sonne was in due time borne, whose

who, by
tian
much
resembled, in th' maine qualities, that of our mere, but

th'
msh
and request of our
fathe' bore his Chris-
name, Robert.
Hee, reared by Walter Devereux,.
bore naturally that name, after a time coming into th'

titles
of Earle
o'
Essex and of Ewe.
The
desire of our father,
who remained
a simple Earle
although he was wedded to a reigni'g queene, was to make

these affairs so well understood that th' succession should
bee without a question.
was pleasing.
To our mother noe such measure By no argument, how strong soever, might
IN
this concession
THE PARASCEVE.
135
he obtain' d, and after some time he was f ayne
to appeal the case for ns directly to Parliament to procure

th' croAvne to
bee entaiFd upo' Elizabeth and
th'
heyrs of
her body.
as
He
handled everiething with greatest measure,

th' acte
he did not presse to have
penn'd by waye of anie
declaration of right, also avoiding to have th' same
by
new lawe
two,
or ordinance, but choosing a course between th'
by waye of sure establishment, under covert and

rest,
indifferent wordes, that th' inheritance of this crowne, as
hath been mention'd here,
remaine and abide in the
Queene, and
as for limitation of th' entaile,
he stopt with
heires of th' Queene's bodie, not sayinge the right heires,
thereby leavi'g
it
to the
lawe to decide, so
to her
as the entayl
might rather seeme a favour

was in
Elizabeth
and
to
their children, then as intended disi'herison to th'
House
of Stuart.
It
this
waye
th't it
was framed, but

th' marriage.
failed in effect
on accompt of the
ill-disposition of th'
Queene
to
open and free acknowledgme't of
But none could convince such a wayward woman

wisdome of that honorable
course.
of th'
Yet I
am
perswaded
we had wonne
agaynst the Earle our father
out, if her anger
^who ventur'd on
matrimony
it
with Dowager Countesse of Essex, assur'd no doubt
would not bee declar'd

erall that well
ill
illegall
by our warie mother

For in the presence
shee referr'd,
had
sev-
not outlived softer feelings.
o'
knew
to
whom
and
^'It
when
she was
in
minde
as in body,
th' councill askt
her to
name
th' king,
shee reply'd,
shall
be noe
rascall's sonne,"
said,
and when
Scotland."
they preas'd to
know whom,
FRA.
''Send to
BARON OF VERULAM.
fea:n^cis baco:n^.
HENRY THE SEVENTH.

1622.
As you
get in a
are beginning
now
to
decypher a most
interest-
ing plajj a portion of which doth concern
my
history,
you
newe maner
keyes, or signes, anie eye not blinde
will only too truly note: or, indeed, not a

th' first modified.
newe Ciphe' but
I will, however, as
much change my
newe, for what be most oft observed doff greatlie the ayde
and protection,
reall
and known,
e.
o'
unfamiliaritie.
th'
t'
Marke
t,
f,
and
See that in no place have
accents on a ^ at midle of th' front where this joyneth

th' uprighte,
yet overturned
it.
Th'
letter
it
t'
hath
still
only
such a use, in our modell or forme, as

vertue of
liar,
its
might in or by
pecu-
form.
But we do
contrive
make most
artfuU shiftes, that so

it is
much
shelter our
most evident
pretensions,
a subtler or swifter mind can followe us

possesse.
then most
accented
men do
skill,
Take care
for all of our

I,
letters,
and do not
baffle us.
That
it
by
curious,
t'
noteworthie
so hide this secret,
fullie proveth
everybody of just temper, somewhat better then by words,
how much
part scene.
greate'
valew
th' inne' portions possesse
then
th'
Bacon
writing.
i'
is
to
many
only a great autho', quick with his
None
see or mark, in most cases, the plays, yet
imagination suppose the offendi'g scenick playes some
task a g'ild should naturalie do, not
my
rude invention.
I have produced four from ancie't Latine and Greeke.
Many
such sorts burrie the works that I have said must
bee written soon.
Your
reall art, that

186
may
truly require
IN
th' best of
HENRY THE SEVENTH.

is,
137
your time,
however you meet m'
requests,
thus of most acco'.
It is a subtly planned Cipher that I

off
have us'd with a most free [hand] to cast

reflexions.
gloomie
You
if
can marke these chang'd: capital
IF,
6',
Z,
D
d,
c,
small, as
you
alreadie have
some time noted,

with
all,
is
at present,
h^
unchanged by
our
dots, in accorde
stile.
but
g^
(Jisti'ctly alter
their
After they attach some marke,
all
letters (as if
b,
one ha' struck a gale) turn keel; a

b, a.
then becometh
all this
and
Your quick
in
efe catches, soon,

th' storie
that aids
them greatly
working
out in
it
full;
is
but in so
much
of th' Cipher as
is easilie
foUow'd,
too transparent.
If, therefore,
you finde
it
mo'
trieth or
(in th'
co'fuseth, seeke in a portio' of our historick
works
Iamb) a law relating would

at
to th' double Cipher, as
it,
here,
once bee seen.

th'
These are
plays,
which you
shall yet find,
that
will
Eawley would urge us

alwayes honor ere
title
to present, in the
name you
it shall
it
receyv' th' lofty but worthie
belonging
t'
better,
doubte, then
when our
story's written.
The
fact very surely proveth most fully
how much
and in
I
envie maketh
home both
i'
a'
elevated minde,
th' vulgar.
am
indeed by vertue of
t'
my
birth, that royall, thoug'
grossly wrong'd son
our most glorious, yet most faulty
I ca' find no stronger terms

stocke that doughtie
Queene
was
Elizabeth, of th'
Edward
truely renowned.
O' such
stock Henries Fifth, Seventh and Eighth, historic battle

kings, came, like branches sent
from the
it
oakes.
My
true
name
is
not as in some backe pages

foster parent to
to
giv'n,
but Tudor.
Bacon was only

as loving
my
early youth, yet was
and kinde
me
as to his
owne
sonne, carefuU
o'
138

education, and even aspiring to
to Mistresse
my
But
my high
advancement.
Anne
Bacon, ever quick with her sim-
pathie and wise to advise, do I

gratitude, since she did
owe a greater or warmer

truly and constantlie
much more
guard, guide, protecte and counsell me.
Moreover, to her I do owe
but rear me, not being,
my life, for though she did de facto my mother, it was by her

^
intervention that the houre of nativitie did not witnesse
my
death.
Her Ma. would
truly have put
me away
privilie,
but Mistresse Bacon, yearning ove' helplesse baby-
hood, saved me, having held ove'
me
hand
o' protectio'.
My
attempts in after years to obtain

o'
my
true, just
and
th'
indisputable title of Prince

throne,
Wales, heire-apparent to
must not however bee thought or supposed

o'
to indi-
cate that I held myselfe disinteressed

offered affronte to these
these obligations,
kind benefactors, or in any waye
conducted myselfe in such manner as would either cast

reflexions upo'
my
breeding, or doe discredit to

it
my
birth.
It
may
clearly
be seen that
was but the most commonbecause 'twas

th'
place of ideas
an
be
actio' barelie ambitious,

it fail'd
simply naturall.
But
set
most sadly, for
would-
bee Virgin Queene, with promptnesse, (not liking our people's hearts to
upon
a king) before
my
A^ B,
O^s,
even, were taught to me, or th' elements of all learning,

instructe'
my
tutores
t'
instill
into
my young
minde a
to
desire
t'
do as
my
foster father
had done, aspiring
high
political
advancement, look for enduring renowne there;

o'
not dreaming, even,
lack wherein I should looke for

t'
many
Of
honours, since I was led to think I was borne
nothing higher.
a truth in her gracious moodes,
my
royall
mother
shewed a certaine pride in
me when
she
named me her
IN
HENRY THE SEVENTH.
139
little
Lo. Keeper, but not th' Prince
never owned that

till
that be truely the rightfiill title I should beare,
Cecill
o'
did sorely anger her and bring on one
o'
those outbreaks
tempo' against one of
th' ladies o'
her traine who, foolish
to rashnesse, [did] babble such gossip to
him
as she
heard
at the Court.
I'
her look
much
malicious hatred
bum'd
toward
me
for ill-avis'd interference, and in hastie indig-
nation said:
"You
are
my own
borne sonne but you, though truly
royall, of a fresh, a masterlie spirit, shall rule
nor Engt'
land, or your mother, nor reigne ore subjects yet
bee.
first-
I bar from succession forevermore
my
best beloved
bome
that bless'd
my
unio' with
no, I'll not
name him,
o' th' o'
nor need I yet disclose the sweete story conceal'd thus

farre so well
secret
men
only guesse
it,
nor know
o'
a truth
marriages, as rightfull to guard the

as of a
name
Queene,
maid
o' this
realm.
It
would well beseeme
you
not
to
t'
make such
tales
spirit.
skulk out of sight, but this suteth
your kin'ly
sonne like mine lifteth hand
nere in aide to her
uplift craven maides (aigre

this
who brought him foorth; hee'd rather who tattle thus whenere my face
enow
ev'r,
they say) turneth from them.

Tell a,
h,
What will
brave boy do?
c'sf
Ending her
to
tirade' thus she
bade
me
rise.
Tremblingly
to lead
I obeyed her charge,
summon'd a serving-man
to Mistresse
me
of
my home my dark
am
like
and sent
Bacon.
"That mother
said I, "for
Atimies shall free

her sonne.
my
name,"
surelie I
May mother lie,

God!
let
or cruel Fates do
alas,
me
wrong?
My
t'
not a lot more hard,
then death come
me.
When
i'
a ripe evil doth breake
upon wicked men,
th' justice
Thy
holie law, ev'n in
chastiseme't holdeth
men
not
that arrow of pestilence:
140
but I
am
th'
innocent,
O my
God!
Visit not the evill
we
much
In
scorn,
on
me
th'
innocuous fruit."
dark I waged warre manfully, supposing that
my
life in all the freshnesse of youth was
made
unbearable.
It did so
much
exhaust, that, afte' pause of a
moment, I
told her
o'
brast flood-like into Mistres Bacon's
chamber and
th'
my
tear.
storie.
'No true
woman
can beare
sight
any
I grasped her arm, weeping and sobbing sore, and
entreated her (artfully, as I thought, hiding

say 'pon oath I was
i'
my
my
secret),
t'
truth the sonne of herseKe and her
honoured husband.
made
effort to conceal
fear that
I was base sonne to the Queene, per contra, I eke, most

plainlie shew'd it
by
my
distresse.
When
therefore
my
me
all
sweet mother did, weeping and lamenting, owne to
that I was in very truth th' sonne o' th' Queene, I burst
into maledictions 'gainst th' Queene,
it
my
fate, life,
and
yieldeth,
till,
wearie, on bent knees I sank down, and
floods o' tears finished
my
wilde tempestuous invective.
When, howsoever,
despaire, said to
that deare ladie saw this, with
womanly
wisedome, to arrest fury or perchance to prevent such
me:
aim
rightly, boy, for
"Spare
my
ear, or
you do wrong
Absato
your mother with such a thought.
Pause
least as to
lom a sudden vengeance come**

words, you then will
When
you do
you
also
list
my
that
knowe
would
that
wrong
noble gentleman, your father.
Earl Eobert, at the meere
mention
o' this folly
rise in great
wrath and
call
down Heaven's judgements on you." At the word, I besought her to speake my father's name, when granting my request, she said: "He is the Earle of Leicester." Then as it made me cease to sob, she said
againe
:
"I tooke a most solemne oath not to reveale your
IN
storie to you,
HENRY THE SEVENTH.

may
hear
141
but you
my
unfinished tale to th'
end
if
you
will
go
to th' midwife.
Th' doctor would be
ready also to give proofes of your just right to be named

th'
Prince of this realm, and heire-apparent to the throne.
Neverthelesse Queene Bess did likewise give her solemn

oath of bald-faced deniall of her marriage to Lord Leicester, as
well as her motherhood.
Her
oath, so broken, robs
me
of a sonne.
Francis, Francis, breake
not
your
the
is
mother's heart!
I cannot let you go forth after

o'
all
years you have beene the sonne

falling.
my
heart.
But night
To-day I cannot longer speake to you of so

This hath mov'd you deepely and
eyes,
weighty a matter.
though you now drie your
you have yet many
teare
it
marks upon your

place,
i'
little
cheekes.
Go now; do not give

from me.
thought or word, a brain-sick woman, though she
be a Queene, can take
my sonne
Retire at once,
my boy."
With
winn
"Farewell," her heart half bursting, she bade
I,
mee
t^
leave her, and
fond boy, kingly power deerly yearn

scepters, prou' courts,
dreame of goldene
and byoathe,.
and-by a crowne on mine innoce't brow.

or any unrighteous rule, sho'ld never
AUedg'd
from the English

th'
throne barre the grand-sonne to

Elizabeth
i'
Henry
Eight,sonne to
lawfull marriage
and by vertue of these

sonne
o'
rights, in that it is the stile of the eldest
Engo'
land's Soveraigne,
no
lesse
then that of the Prince
Wales
was by
is
my
proper
o'
title.
In due course
time, however, I, at dale's meridian,

re-call'd
my
newe-found royall mother
and given
private audience.
I learn'd from the interview, and sub-
sequent occurrences, that th' matter was trulie to be mar-
gente of
my
desire,
and that
it
was, at present, in fancie
142
that I bore this lofty name, or a stile other then that
actually
mine
in
my
home.
princely name,
it
seemed,
as apt to
was one
to bee
thought upon, not reckoned 'pon

all fabrickes, baselesse,
t'
bee given me; for so
(though one,
no doubt,
ing)
i'
shall
be ev'n
th'
end of
life busily constructfall.
woful mines upon lowly shiftinge sands do
I mentioned that although 'twas guessed by one [that]
another
is
rightfully the husband of this subtle Queene,
(nor can he
make
lesse ill-timed propositions)
he
so wisht
to betray her to the entire nation as

respec',
one unworthy their
by
airs of
enamour'd address not onely, but in a
formall most princely and courtlie wonte ask'd (at an

extra especial session of th' Queene's abated, astounded
and disspleased private councel) negotiations.
All wayes
and meanes of avoiding

at once.
th'
open declaration were adopted

however, as a Poleak at missing
The royall
suitor,
aime, was angered, and, great ado making, did so disturb
our great men,
^who, as birdes are amidst hawkes,

o'
were
thereat cow'ring with fear
publick disgrace,
that
many
saw
this.
If no act
it
As it influenced State affaires, it was admirable. made th' heires of Elizabeth rightfuUie bastard,
to
was proper some meanes
shew legitimacy, that
will
in no
waye cause tumult throughout England, be

such measure found no kinde of regard
i'
ofer'd.
Any
as
th' sight o'
vain minded Queene Elizabeth, whose look traineth
men
lesse
vain as her owne
selfe.
Th' would-be idole of half the
great princes of Europe,
concluding
it
would be
pleasing in a f ewe yeares to have all the people
knowe
that
she
is
the wife of th' Earle of Leicester, then suppose her
the Virgin Queene she call'd herselfe,

shields alike despis'd, nor did she at
both props
and
any subsequent time

unworthie, un-
reverse her decision.
For such a
triviall,
IN
HENRY THE SEVENTH.
143
righteous cause was
my
birthrighte
lost,
and nought save

conspiracie
the strong will of Elizabeth turned

t'
men from
place
me on
th' throne.
To winne backe
aires,
their loyalty
she assum'd most kingly
and,
upon occasion
har-
angued the army, riding upon

dear
shall
a richly caparison'd horse
before the lines, and naming herselfe th' King.

life
I for
dare not to urge

th'
my
claim, but hope that
Time
ope
waye unto
my rightfull
i
honors.
The
waies.
.
story of
my
entire life
told in
some most
subtile
My
plays,
(now
so nearly completed, that

i'
we
pre-
mise
we may
to
him great glory bring

which I write
to
whose name I
write) have letters
you in
my
other,
more
time
principall, typic, or word-sign
Cypher, that like that card

his eye off in a
a ship's watchfull
mate nere taketh

I
of storm, must be closely observed.
Round certaine words that may bee scene to have its place
aid in finding keyes,
name
keyes, one cluster
in othe' kinds o' worke.

capitalized:
T'
some words are not
whenit
ere a fewe such are repeated frequentlie, take note of
and our design, which wee saw written in a night

will take its proper
vision,
form
i'
th'
minde.
Let
th'
wordes in
parenthese' next to be found. N. B. every time such seem

to
be us'd ad lihitum^
it
showeth they are

this pointeth
keies.
th'
Such use
o' capitalls
meaneth that
out
words I will
so use.
But
it is
by
othe' devices, as in cloth o' Persian silk,
a patterne soon openeth out of the confusio'.
Any
aven-
turous worker can easilie trace
it if
he doth get
all
th' true art.
Th' keys tak'n are aids onely.
Seeke out
of the works
I name, ere th' deciph'ring naturally attracteth you so

continually,
ious
no pledg'd attentive devotion
to
more
laborall
work may hold you
to this necessary part.
Let
144
BI-L/ITERAL

way
things be done carefnllie and in order, following the

I,
darkly, have pointed out to
you and seeke
diligently for
the light.
'No sparke sheweth from th' flint until
it
be strucke,
nor can you finde

pages
if
th' fitfuU sparkes that
hide within our
you doe not work

our
flinty
in manifold wayes, in season
and
out, to uncove'
Ciphers and strike them shai-pely.
Look not
"Lo
it is
to finde a steady raye that doth as sunlight shine

'Tis as swift. lightning; ev'n before
'tis
unfalteringly.
we
say,
there!"
gone, and vastie darkenesse swalloweth

'tis
up our
pose,
sight.
However,
light
to
quite suflicient for
my
pur-
and
as
more
would def eate rather then further

bestowed
famous designes,
waste.
have
more were
foolish
My
decypherer alone doth get the benefit, while
spies o' all sorts are dazzled
and misled.
see
Wherefore take
revealed to one
good heart, for not

that hath found
years, I,
all
is
now
what
is
what
the law of our Ciphers; for, for

all
an eager follower after

t'
learning, have
it,
so
laboured
finish this
worke and to perfect
that
you
cannot misse
my
object.
system so exact must in the
end yielde what our designe doth intend.

Proceed, therefore, in this manne'.
Seeke near each

will find oft
feel a
key that
othe' or joining-word,
which you
I
to
repeated, and bring parts together.

desire to write at once,
if
knowe you
and beg you

th'
be in no haste, for
you leave searching out
keyes and putting apart the
materials for the building
o' th' pallaces,

t'
you
will be as
a beggar going from door
door without a wall that can
keepe
off
tempestuous winds or a roofe to shelter you.

shall, as
Yet
if
you
I direct, patientlie collect the blockes
of marble, which are already polish'd
and prepar'd,
IN
HENRY THE SEVENTH.

rise,
145
Like
t'
a king's th' shining walls shall

loftie
While high upon the

Th' golden roof e
'No sound shall
gleaming tow'rs
may
outbrave Illium's.
o'
come
anie instruments,
As any iron tools, or ax, or hammer: As in the beauteous temple, as we read,

In
So
silent
grandeur stone on stone was reared,
noiselesse, so inaudible shall
bee
The building of
For
my glorious
t'
pallaces.
Let no conspiracie
make you
but for
leave
idole Fancie' noble Truth's faire realme,

this assay
A moment winne you,

Break
cressive love,
throw
off th'
filmy band!
Nor
In
in th' mazes of a winding
way
Is risk'd a foot of
him
that would out-go
fleetnes stepps of
winged Mercury;
is
Then
stray not in, or, ere one
aware.
The entrance
to th' labyrinth's quite lost

eies
Th' unmarking
nor see nor read
th' signs
Which
of the strait and narrow
way do make,
mount.
shini'g
pathway
to th' golden
The
purposes, like to a weather-cock that chang'd.

lazie eies
Turning ere
had noted
o'
it,
Ne'er made one master
the Grecia'
o'
art,
That wondrous use made both
stone and canvass,
Neyther can
sto'ier defiant
Cipher,
As
flint-like as th'
hardest stone
t'
now wrought,
Bee rounded
so to-day
symmetry,
Unlesse old rules shall next reveale a keye.

I eke in verse, sing of
my
one great theame;

o'
In verse we told the story
our birth.
,
i
If one or other should on halting feet,
146
Limp on
apace,, lenify easily,
And
Shew
oft
undo
parts never justly given

this shall
So that at best
by
iteration,
its full use.
As
th' object is
gained by that, better, in very truth,
and more
places, oft
easily
of a marked degree
we have
see.
in
many
on beginning a new portion, given

differing, (but in
as
th^ deciph-
erer in
manner
nothing of importance
changed) repetition of our work

as
you may
Always,
you
will perhaps note, th'
law wrought compleatelie to

story.
perfection,
giveth
you the whole

no
To
place the
,cardes then soe carefullie that
losses
can hap, was not
an
easie taske;
but I have not yet seen any ground of

designe
feare that
my
may
be at
fault.
it
All
is
cleare as
A. B.
well.
C.
I wag'd
my
best,
and
repay eth the outlay
Though
finde noe
as to the
dramatic as fundamental works I can
fault, th^ limits of historic
we found cramping;
is
for as in [a] play nothing unnaturall
of anie use,
you
have
its
find, in writi'g a simple tale o' history onlie the truth
availeth.
little
It better doth aid th' writer of events
t'
imagination.
book rightly giveth truth in

story
i'
heautie
more fame then any

o'
brass
monuments,
it.
and the names

but only the
the secre'
o'
authors living
may
grace
And
I,
for I greatly desire fame, have reared high

letter I
my noble
pile,
have written to
my
decypherer hath
Pile the lofty
works
to
my untiring mark my tomb.

I would that
o' th'
heart and hand.
I ask no truer monument.
Although
works,
still
this is risking the losse o' th'

it
most valew'd
be
so left, for reasons
which
I must, at th' beck
heavy hand Death wieldeth, shew
unto
th'
world; but no historic save mine reveals th' story,
IN
as it
HENRY THE SEVENTH.

letters.
I,
147
doth beseem secret

it
but fabricke of
all.
my
his-
fancy
will sound, yet it
hath truth in
Even
torick writings
may draw somewhat upon

kin.
that for aid, yet

futile
my
worthy work's not
Leave most
and worth-
lesse attempts to
undo me:
car,
This truth must span that

soft
narrow arch above Time's current, where
hued
i'
rain-
bows give promise of the
banded with gold,

ever carryeth
light.
t'
which
sonnes
we
o'
note Apollo in his pride,
who
th'
men
his beauteous
beams of
Daye he
lends the
beautie pure and shining that crownes her awful brow,
and Eve winns,
too, th'
gold tipt arrow wrought to so fine
a point, that shiny spear-head is sirnam'd a starre.
As hath beene
said, it
was such a very
difficult
under-
taking to adapt another historic to the purposes of the
Ciphers, Ave let our judgement oft-times decide
upon the
manner
this
of narration, alwayes provided the truth did

suffer.
by
de-
method by no meanes
failed,
Whenever
this soe
meerly formall device

vised.
manie more were soon

tipe, shall
mark
in lines I wish to
have divided, when have to such an
found in the other or Latine
eye a newe significance, not such as it would have in th' Italic. As you see I blent everie eye, save one, in this.
Next I
do
th'
us'd
numerous means (nor on being exami'd

o'
manie works beare indication
revealing the
sorts o'
secret), writings.
even reckoned better in use for manie
By
using
much time
to perfect the plann,
even
of rest and sundrie such, so-called, necessities deprived
thereby
many
weekes, I found the methods as day after

easily
day went by
fro' suspition.
employed and
easily seen,
but free
A name can be given so, for ere anie other

name
of articles in com-
eye sees aught but an ordinarie
mon
use, the thoroughlie taught decipherer sees some of
148
m J penn
names and
;
as for fears, I anticipating
them
ns'd
severall different
fruitlesse.
names for
one,
making anie pursnite

hath aid for the
Even
this marginall work,
decipherer, and also other signes are cressets bearing lights

to
mark the waye

truer,
i.
that I would have
him walke yet would

;
my
e.,
the more worth' Cipher-work, end ere
all
bee well nnderstoode, were this alwayes confined to rules,

signes, etcsetera.
It is to
make each a
diversify th'
lockt doore to all
save
my
decipherer.
t'
But, at th' same time,

at th'
worke
suficientlie,
beginning
so freely
many
work
of
my
simple lines are to be found
sowne
need
throughout the work of this Ciphe' (in

so
truth that said

o'
much
doth alter this task) that
a pleasanter, as shall soon be seen, cannot be felt
or knowne, but a love and devotion to th'

a
work
shall set
newe motif
into action.
Also, in th' Cipher, use of th' elements, the sev'n great
wonders, the seven planets, with manie of th' vertues a

fair
kept recorde sheweth, and vices soe black that never

its eie'
could an angell see one, but

ing, also a long
would
fill t'
overfiowas
and well arrang'd table of such things

all,
are dayly used and familiar to
beter keepeth
my
plans
his
from jeopardie then the strong guard of our king doth

sacred person.
All this must bee found, before you can apply yourself e easilie
unto this goodlie work of mine, that I wish

If
it
you
to do at once.
may
at th' first
(ill
seem of
on
little
real value, the value of a correct story
as it
may make
evill
one most exalted person come

trulie gloating), soone will
out, aye
most
false,
be apparent.
You
are to get eleven old plaies, publisht in th'
name
I have us'd lately at th' theatre, and
many much
valued
IN
HENRY THE SEVENTH.
149
by scenick Caesars who conquer, ever, a lack created on our stage from th' withdrawing of some lame and halt
plays
t'
embark again
th'
in
new forme
t'
aide
my
projects
by compelling
will finde th'
call
production of others.
And
both
therein
i'
you
beginning of
many
stories,
dramati-
forme
(also in that
raw unfinished forme) and in lamthis.
bick verse.
But the
haste with which some parts were
compleated, will explaine
When
these plays
may
come
is
foorth, for
many
it
reasons cannot
now be
determined,
but I promise you,
shall
be soone.
^Wisely and slow,"

unheeded, even by
a proverb ofte on
my
lips,
and
as oft
myselfe, also.
sharpened
then
But an axe that cutteth well must be well it doth become us all to looke well to
our instruments:
For you must cut apart Which,
my
various bookes.
Spreading them out upon

as th' chart or
a mark'd scrutoire.
th' sailor
mappe
hath
Doth pointe out

In faire, clear
everie countrey of th' world,
lines, this
great expanse doth name.
So faire and beauteous
th'
bound I
set.
Though
'tis
at risks o' this secret designe.
Then
separate each part, to joyne againe

discloseth.
According as your guide hereby
In riche mosaickes, wondrous
to behold.
To bee admir'd by
Heere
is
all
the sonnes of men.
a crowne, gemme-starred, and golden scepter,
crosse
and
ball
insignia of ranke,
Even
ISTo
of royalty, soe pure and high

is
blur
on
it,
but like to frost flowers,
Januarie's blossoms icie white.

It
gleameth
i'
th' light of
eache faire morne.
150
Oh
let
not
man
forget these words divine:
"Inscrutable do hearts of kings remaine."

If he remark a pensive dying fall
In
th'
musicke of these
straines, let
him forbear
To question of its As hath been, is, and evermore

meaning.
List again,
shall bee
Ages retarde your

Yet
'tis
flight
and turn
to hear
Cor regis inscrutahile.
Amen.
King
His works divine,
ever shall redound
to th'
the glorie of our Heavenlie

in mystery
To shroud
And
to kings
mundane
In greatest compasse glory
names
0' such as seeke out Nature's misteries;
Fortune
may
aid him;
Truth waite upon him;
Honor may attend; as we look, crampt Art

undreamt of
th'
Doth reach forth Unto Time's
to faire light,
lore;
While Reputation soundeth through

close,
world
glory in [highest] measure.
To him
that to th' depths doth search wide Seas,

into th' Earth, unto th' Aire
Digge deepe
And
Till
region of th' Fire climbe fearlessly.
he
th'
World, the Heavens and e'en
th'
Uni-
verse,
With human eyes that better can discern Then mountaine eagle, gazing at th' sunne, Doth finde out secrets hid fro' humankind
Since th' foundations of th' earth were laid,
Stampt with the impresse of the Heavenlie Hand;
And
in grave
musick deepe
to
deepe did sang a
call.
While morning
starres together
hymn
Fr. B.
Time lendeth
to Eternity for aye.
MAELOWE.
EDWARD THE
1622.
SECOND.
You
will find here that sad, sad, sad tale o'
my
brother
Essex which runs darkling thro'
my
plaie,
the secret th'

all lan-
books contain, the most comon themes in any or

gwages, polish'd writings in everie
tor'cke, not sparing
stile
named
in
any Rheso
sundry dearly lov'd poets, but
mak-
ing over
my
erly college songs of ancie't world lore (of th'

still
hero's fam'd
lost.
through
Homer
et.
al.)
that no part
is
Much, however,
as I say, shal assert things such as

t'
will be recorded in
no place which might be subject
the
scrutinie o' enimie or of friend.
Many
of the hidden plays
have no other object I assure you.
Any
so long
writings o'
my
penne, be they in mine owne

is
name
or in that of
my
Xow
friend,
the work
o' th'
hand you have

doth
knowne
as untiring
of
the same restless minde

epistle for
it
and
spirit.
hunt out our hidden
foile tiresome friends; foes
who, most constantly watchi'g

sort of secret)
(ever closely bent

th' starte
o'
use
o'
some kind or
win
yet lose th' scent; and thus do curious men, try

at resistance,
however they may in weake attempts

in mirie waies,
wander
and I followe
this busines
and
this play, if
recreative labours
th'
may
be
stil'd plaie.
Many
This
is
days pass in
work
that
is
here given.
Oft more of the dayes then

principall in
may
justlie
be used in such a way.
my owne selfe doth know of its appearance), to furder my object and to avoid ev'n th' slight suspicion of persons reading my plai's.
favour (since none but
151
152
BI-LITERA'L
A
not
booke
is
as
an un wrought lump of metall: you see

it
th' rich
it.
shine of
beneath sundry thin coates that

true of everything herein. Study
obscure
The same
is
my
signes, learn to read
my
is
numerous small Cyphers for

easy.
their designe
was to make the worke

bee found in
Doe
this as
directed untill the whole

difficulty will
understoo' soe well no great

th' deciphering.
this,
You
next join Lear to
a history of Henrie th'
Sevent, Th' Life and Death of
King John, and Burton's

which I
great prose, (not the best I have so given another man, but
better for
work of various
David, one of
parts then plaies) those
name Peele on
tioned, th'
th' stage, or that
Arraignment I have menput out in a time
my oldest books
when we minded
our long study.
onelie our achiev'mente
th' result of
dreamed of by any.
Time now doth unveil many things ungues'd or unTo do away with mistery we set forth a large work De Augmentis S. now translated, to shut th' casket, but if th' keys to it should now be sunk, th' story
it
contains (our twelft king's nativity since our sovereign,

relate in this way,) shall
whose tragedy we
and valew'd
book
day, nor shall the Latine hide, nor our disguises,

as
now know the many

th' eyes of the
they be, keep
my
story
from
curious searchers in a
new
mine.
Such a prize hath

is
my
to give the student of the
work whose entry
farre
in the vantguard; the armies rereward
may
lose th' glory
of
it all.
FKANCIS BACOK.
HISTORIA VIT^ & MORTIS.
1623.
Leaving out those Latin
letters
of the several plays

its
may throw upon
the Italiques suspition of
purposed
too soone
emploiement or of planne, and Revelation
may
remoove the well-designed masque which Prudence would

but slightly
stir.
To prepare
as
manie alphabets
as
would
but be manifesto upon Iny shorter pages, can be scene to be

prodigious labour, and hath consumed
many
of
my
spare
hours of
late,
is
if
may
speake thus of any howers, since

to inve'tion of this sort
my
time
most constantly turned
or kinde that noe portion of unwritten.

It
is
my
as
history
may remaine
true
it is
manie times told,
my faithfuU decypherer
this
must know
work, yet
if
hee have performed anie worthy part of
it is
very improbable hee can have discyph'red

'tis
a history as true as
strange with a marvellous storie
of our late soveraigne therein, yet have told, writ, or put

forth this knowledge nowhere.
In truth feare
is it
growdoth
it
ing within
mee
that this
is
all
a lost labour, for

dale,
seeme too well hidden to finde the light of

doth ever wage
th'
and
warre in
my
heart with most earnest
desire for sweete asura'ce of a safety I have not for

a
manie
day or yere
felt.
The
throne,
deatli of a
king that
now
usurpeth
my
rightfuU
his*
may
avayle not to give to one,
who wrong'd by
owne
roiall
mother can shewe

153
his claime
but by his owne
154

his frends' word, th'
and
crowne and scepter of

that
this vast
kingdome.
livi'g
The papers
would
testify as
mouths of
and present observers, speaking of truth

care,
to
them well
known, were long guarded with

to
but
it
will be recalFd
your minde, doubtles, that in Queene Elizabeth no sense
of justice was so strong as her loves, though her self-love
overmastered everie emotion.
It will
make
cleere, perhaps,
her manifeste delight
when mine As
all
of
my
hopes came by
the destruction of said papers, and her refusall to
make
due restitution
th'
to myself e.
witnesses were gone, as
time to prove
my
right to raigne ove'

as
England came,
no hands were uplifted there,
hath too oft in
my
writ-
ings of these events beene retold, t^ bee secure yet transmit
comming men unknown 'mongst a

to th'
tion.
Brieflie,
'tis,
of th' land, a tale of
wrong
nearlie
greater part of the present generaas
you may have learnt in Cypher
workes such
that
is
as this, a prerogative of
my
birth, th'
power
shewn
in the outward
and
visible signs of royall

stile,
throne, scepter, robes and crowne,
mine the coveted
Eex.
Although wedded whilst she was but th' proud, unhappie^

tho'
still
spirited princesse that
Queene Mary held

off
to
be
dangerous in freedome, and for this cause sent
without
forme of
trial to
languish in
London Tow'r,
af te' her ascent
to royale power, before
my
birth, a second nuptiall rite
duly witness'd, was observed, soe that I was borne in holy

wedlocke.
But having no
th'
true desire of
sire,
my
advancement, neyther
Queene nor
my
suiting the wôrd to th' actioti, ever
set a scale
upon
th'
papers that declar'd the legitimacy or

claime.
fully
established
my
Therefore
th'
aforesaid
papers which were destroy'd, were the testimony of Lord
IN HISTORIA
P., at Yfhose
VIT^ & MORTIS.

th'
155
house this marriage was solemnized
second
time,
hee
having stro'g suspition that these might, at a
remote date perchance be reqnir'd,

stantive testimony confirming this
with
other like sub-
same ceremony of the
Cjueene's nuptialls,
certified
and of
my
birth, after a lapse of time,
by
th' physitian, nurse,
midwife, and Lady

the
life
Anne
proud,
Bacon,
roiall
my
foster parent,
who saved
is
my
mother boldly refused

that
to nourrice.
Therefore
not
known by
and name
name which
off
mine by lawe,
am I and men
living in
title
some farre
^ôn
shall at a
word
set this true
to all bookes I shall leave in anie to'gue.
My
work
of as
best playes, at present as
William Shakespeare's
seemely in plaies
fostered, will as soone as
one more plaie bee completed,

dresse, as is
weare a fine but yet a quiet
much valew and
dignity as sheweth cleerly therein,
and be put foorth in
folio enlarged
and multiplyed
as th'
history concealed within th' comedies, histories, or tragedies

required.
Th'
commencement
is
of
one of these hidden
epistles will
bee scene, but
not in truth
my
earliest let-
ter or first Cipher teachings.
In
this cheefe device that I
name
ere
the Word-Cipher
ing the partes togather
being found by those keyes joynexperiments I made many

futile
my great Cipher was

if
compleat, as you must have learnt
by pursuing
but
a course that I plainlie
marked out for you,
your course have bin devious, your rules

th' interiour
may
so
have escapt notice that part of
work may be
put out
al
unknown
th' secret
to you.
It
was truly very
difficult to
it
work
in parts so small that
gave no clew to
other workes co'cealed in the plays, th' poems, the essays

or counsels, et csetera.
To
this
work have many weary yeares bin ungrudgingly

by the meanes then commanded by an
given, inasmuch as
156
unskilled penne, ayded no lesse, I
am
co'peFd to admit
first
fruit,
by worthie pamphlets of some pen that produc'd no little then by genius, I, assur'd that time can do no harm
to
my
inventio', but should rather
make
it
valued, ay, and
greatly prized, in every

sent out, plact
work wherever
or in
what garb
bee,
Blacke as manie of
th' play, indeed,
my fost'red hidden history. my owne heavy maters may

may
be at once not gaye perchance, but
most pleasing and also leave small seedes that will put forth
some
which
leaf or flower as earnest of harvest.

at this periode
So may that
hath for sole clayme such seede and
my
inner revela-
tion, in future, give
fruit,
men's thoughts
shall be quite busy in seeking out the secret of the style I
have imploied herein and thereby see
th' interiour story.
You
take
will, I doubt not, finde valew'd
work much changed.

to adde,
I alwais alter even
when
there bee
more
and I may
many
of th' parts
from
th' plaies put out in quarto
form
to reset th' same,
having made a planne to increase

th'
one by making a likeness in
theame
easily suit th'
thoughts and ene sundry verses of others.
It
may
be a
long time ere I can put into use most

fro' early plays,
choise lines soe culd

th' abse'ce of
and
so friendes
may, noting
these lines, sometime aske the cause.
It wil not please those

stile,
who wish
struction,
to
keepe
all
things in pristine shape,
or con-
even rejecting improving and for the most part

so,
onely trifling changes, but
much accompted
it is plact,
of great
valew loseth true proportion as
it is
highten'd
by
th' foil or
dwarf'd by that compariso'.

is
The new arrangement

in everie part
treasor,
not lesse waigh'd, studied, and
carefully ballanc'd, for I aim'd onelie to write with truth
and to
noe
set that
one
gemme
anie
above
other
that
man
shal
say
in
time to bee,
IN HISTORIA
VIT^ & MORTIS.
157
"Th' fruit
is as th'
apples that, turning to ashes, drave olden
heroes to curse Sodom's deceitfulnesse."

strength,
In due time a
farre-reaching thought greatly hath increased,
cometh
to
to
your
eie in this latter
work, that also must bee
known
Part of
many by
reading anie such work as
entitled First Part of

th'
King Henrie
th'
Fourth.
my drama The Seco'd

knowledge
same and one
entitl'd Othello reveale
of life wanting in th'
common
plays that had this penne
name on
th'
title
page.
These
are, as
many
times have said,
crowning glory of
my
pen, even though there bee de-
grees, as surely
you must know, of excellence therein; but

as well
the cause you
may
have learned since
it
was
clearlie
shewne
to
depend upon times, and likewise upon the nature

hidden
as of th'
as well of the
open
story.
Therefore some
will bee omitted
from
my
Folio, but
some retained for

the most essential
causes
now given. To ^x my rules
well in your
minde
is
thing at th' moment, and
one must acknowled'e possesse
many were put within those which little valew. As half the
it
number I
shal assemble have alreadie appeared in "Will

will be well to bring
Shakespeare's name, I thinke that
out the Folio,
also,
by some meanes
in th'
same name,
although he be gone to that undiscover'd cou'try from
whose borne no
traveller returnes,
because our king would

raigne were
'twill
is
be prompt to avenge
th' insult if his right to
challeng'd, and the sword of a king
long and where
not extend thither he darteth

plays, the truth
it.
And
as concerneth th'
commeth foorth more quickly from an

it is
errour then from confusio' and therefore

that
it
most certaine
discern-
would by f arre be more the part of wise and
ing mindes to let this
and
his
name of a man knowne to the theatre, former gay company of fellowe-players, stand thus
158

to
on plays
obay
him
as little
I,
knowne, despite a long tearme of

thinking expedient so to do,
service, as to a babe.
th' Scripture
it
now
and
caste
my
very bread to the windes

shall it
or so we
on
th' waters.
fill
Plow
be at the harvest?
Will the
This wheat must
np some goodlie garner.
golden store
at
not soon
since time doth slowlie moove, yet
God
His right or proper daye of reward
bee
mine?
I thinke this shall be true, for manie a fayre hope hath
bloomed out snowlike in

fruition to
my
lone heart that promiseth ful
my
wish.
Fame
it
may
chance
for the workes

hid with so great
quite unghest.
shal com.e, tho' not to the authour
who
paines his
name
that at this writing
'tis
And
th'
time I
am
giv'n to spende
upon
th'
work
is
as gold,
princelie
gemmes
or purple robes.
All things in
th' world, of th' subtle
charme that
is
too
powerfull for weak
man
such
as
be of greatest worth
are represented in this youthful iVe'tion.
4hat which
is
yet
Shakespeare's, wil
Some that reade known 'mongst players as William marvail that so many superiour works
could have laine hid in such seaso's of Prince's celebrations.
But
my
discypherer,
who knoweth
that the plays
represented as found never had existed

in short,
are incompleted
and are yet
my
cheefe
occupation
out,
shall
make
in
this fully to bee. scene as 'tis

th'
made
by being ready
work I have therein requested
to
have compleated.
This to
many noe doubt seemeth

co'stat use
useless writing(g), illy
suted to that record of th'^work of a lifetime, for which

this
Cyphre now in
are
'tis
was invented, but
as things
now
greatly priz'd, since
my
history,
whilst
now
as indifferentlie giv'n as such
forward
stories of
a man's
owne experiences
writings,
at
most
are,
either in his thoughts or
shal in th' relation be
somewhat improv'd,
my
IN HISTORIA
VIT^ & MORTIS.
159
Word
Cyphe'
taught
my
by the others
being
by
work'd in
with great trustiness and paines.
Yet how an
interior epistle
is
coloured
th' exterior in
other Cyphers then

is
letter,
which you wel understand,
also seene therein.
For
heroes,
and
all
weightie deedes,
fine,
must bee suited in verse both
loftie
and
whilst true
limn'd passion should be cloath/d upon as some flow'r
humble or
flaunting,
dim
violets or
poppy
flowre, alike
adorn'd in many-hued silken tissewe that time truly

not destroy.
may
Each spring hath brought newe bloome but

or greatly alter'd.
nothing
is lost
In like mode
ill
deeds
must put on
ill
wordes, a verse well marking the inner
character of soe evill a theame.
When
this is observed in
making your own search
for
portions scattered
through these numerous new playes, as
well as in that Historic of
Henry
the Seventh, your judge-
ment must
if
truly be perswaded of purpose therefor.
But
it
history shall so exclude such
sympathy of theame that
must stand
as
my
tomes writ when
my
sadde pen found

th' timelie
the Cipher letters
its sole
its
methode or meanes by
waighty secrets
contrivance of which
might be given
placeâpart, unseen, such divisions shall be most fine and
mdely parted as is noted in Some of my letters hide

honour in the
earlier secret epistles.
that story that giveth

else
me
farre
more deadly paine then could ought

untimely, cruell end.
roiall soveraigne, his eies
ev'n this los of

Lo. Robert's
it is
It hath so temper' d the hot rush of

it
bloud in
my
It
vaines that I feel myselfe becoming old ere

is
be time.
the one thought in
onely dreame by night, for there was

to
my hours of day, my my owne aide, not
him but
to
my
mother, th' Queene, which hurteth th'

tel.
memorie more than tongue can
160
Yet such
beyond that
of
terrors held
daie,
mee
that I could not realize ought
nor did I beleeve anie such curse one
half soe likely of lighting sudenly
upon
th'
youthful head
it
my
hasty Lord of Essex, most dear to th' Queene, as
was-to rest for aye upon
my pate.
Th' event of
th' Earle's
death never for an howre, or even for a

posible to
moment seem'd
our proud
me after Kobert stoopt his pride to send
mother her pledge
a ring given as
if
in doubt some great

surely tho't
it
harm might ever threaten, altho' neither from th' Queene his evil would threat.
It
was long enow, in truth some time
thereafter, ere
th'
this fact
became well known. Her Ma. coming unto

died.
last
knowledge but a short periode ere she

misguided Queene's
only prevented,
it
After our
murther, however, was by a chance

It
was
freelie bruited everywhere.

th'
was
his
then that I also found that

fortune, trulie valewlesse
sired or rather
triall,
most preitous
token
yet,
by
its
came
short
of
de-
intended end.
My owne share in his terrible
you
at least as
my
faithful discypherer know, but
none can say or think how awful the memory, burnt upon
heart, braine,
and soule soe deeply,
is
at this
day though
the time be long past.
'No mishap of fate or evil fortune of late, can
which hath befalne

sion
me
make such
sad impresall joies
on the heart
as this unceasing sorrowe;
and of
possible to
ticing
my future," none is to mine eager spirit soe enas my earnest hope of meeting Kobert in that world
when
all earth's
of blis
sorrowes have ended, and of hear-
ing
my greatest O grant our
evill-doing
by
his
word
forgiven.
request
Thou
infinitely gracious
Father!
that sin
all
As our Lord was

washed in
transgressions.
crucified that
we might
live,
his bloud,
might be remitted, blot out
our
Though our
sinnes be as scarlet let
them
IN HISTORIA
be white as wooll.
as height is
VIT^ & MORTIS.

is
161
As
farre as the East

so farre
from
th' "West,
from depth,
all
remove wrong from our

hearts, for
mindes and
is
iniquity
from our
with the Lord
mercy, and plenteous redemption.

This work of
my
hand
is
fully prepared to put foorth

nearlie ready also,
as soon as
fit,
this
Cypher work being

all
yet this
that I
is
by no means
that hath a place in these plannes
made
at divers seasons in
my leasure
to speak according to the facts
or
it
may
be,
in time
which was free
from
officiall duties,
since I have not
found leasure in many
yeares from
fihde
it
various sorts of i'vention.
man may
if it
well
stances
so uselesse a
^that
word
in
my
position
it,
and circumplease
he could doe without
except
him
and
to distinguish
also in kinde.
betweene differinge works, in degrees

put forth openly, to shew
One such work

that
is
will be partlie
the kind and style of th' work, partly in

carefullie explained in
my
Word-Cyphar
many
by
places to afforde my-
discyph'rer such ayde as I deem'd to be necessary.

it is
To me
probable, that, encouraged
timelie advice,
my
dil-
ligent decypherer will continue this work, assisted in soe
great measure, and say with

stlthough at present there bee
me
it is
well co'ceyved, for,

a like kind
few inventions of
known, many are requir'd in

in
th' world,
and may have place

labour
my
bookes amongst those that
much
may
yet
make
perfect.
At
least it is well to place
manie things with
the table in which I have

benefit
named the
desiderata, so
much
may
soone bee derived thence.
To
introduce th'
thought, being often greater actual good to students, as to

philosopher in fact, then to write out a most thorough and
labored theory,
it is
advantageous to wield a free penne, to

its
give scope and strength to
inve'tion.
163
For some such purpose
my
long sought, not yet sur-
rendered, theorie of familie or patriarchdom should fence

in th' degree I have mention' d, if th' losse of
my owne
sov-
eraignty teach anie people a modell of thorow, just, yet

tender, generous
and kinde unquestio'd

o'
rule, or lead
men
discov-
young, hopeful, fond

eries
adventitious joyes of
new
orth
^f
into the fields of limitlesse possibilities.
It should set this suffering, mutinous, wronged,

spiritt
wounded
somewhat
at rest to feel this truly assured to

eies
my
heart, but
none can shewe mine

it
that future day
although I long for
as
one whose
life is
waning
swiftlie,
more from trouble

is it
it is
true then age, yet no lesse surelie
wearing to
its
end, and God's
hand
shall
add that word^.
all
that at that day shal be wanting, meerely the Finis to
say that the soul of this Prince wins loving subjects at last
in Christ his kingdome.
In
my
remaining dayes,
is
or few,
to
whatever
King
to
or
many
like
our forefathers'
meet
do for
th' benefit of posterity,
promote the generall improvement of mankind, that

all places.
would I do in
Some
experime'nts that were
made
before
Jas.
put some businesses into
my
handes
that in latter dayes are lacking, though delicate often and
wearisome, receive chiefly
my
unoccupied moments, when no

is
Cypher
is
in hand, for nothing
more
benefit
or at least
doth put a
man
in a
way
sure of ayde in a right understand-
ing of Nature's lawes more readilie

teachings.
then
ISTature's
owne
Therefore these aydes are often but a suggestion

th' replie.
of a
methode of inquirie rather then

great arte
A.
to
finde
truths
first
which Nature's hand

day conceal'd
artes,
guardeth even as
necessitie
th'
it
was in that
^must of
have exercise the same as other

is
nor must
inquirer imagine this
possible without th'
most paines-
IN HISTORIA
taking work.
VIT^ & MORTIS.
163
t
This
is
obvious in the present in labour I

Israelites
performe every day, for like the old

in Egipt,
brick.
who
served
more
is
oft required of
mee then
to
.make the
Let
it
This must I do and also seeke th' strawe.
then make the labour seeme lesse irksome, inasmuch as I
have long told
many
it
a tale well dried and ready for a place,

bee, in the
how lowe
or lofty
temple walles.
It should not,
however, be his part to labour, ev'n to

braine.
fatigue, with
hand and
Philosophers have need of
servitors that shall prepare the
waye
before, like the fore-
runners of our Saviour, exalt the low places, th' mountayns

bring downe, th' crooked and the uneven and rough
make
once more smoothe, straight and plain, since their labour

is
to
some degre a labour
divine^
and hath for end and ayme

is
th'
advantaging of humanity, but as the work
in bands
and cannot in our day bee mentioned 'mongst

understood sciences, you,
truelie well
my
deciphrer, cannot
know how
much
doth appertayn thereto nor th' methods by which

I put
th'
my
labours have bin done.

enquirie in
hastilie
much good and thorough

downe.
this
my
taskes
and
experiments have not beene
made nor
carelesselie set
Whosoever may reade and note

faithfuUie in this
work
shall
keepe on
way which I mark'd out for him, but
should hee, with the aide that I afford his search

farre
it
leadeth
on
to
other and wealthier mines of truth I have no

farre greater discoveries
doubt
make
and inventio's ere

let
he
shall set these forth in
triumphant musicke,
some note
in such a paean bee in
my praise,
inasmuch
as
my hand long
before awaken'd th' sound and tuned th' instruments that

th'
musicke might bee thus
though
th'
sounds be not in
th'
tuning agreeable or pleasing to heare, for this cause the

is
musicke
sweeter afterwards.
Doe not
treat
my
small
164

'tis
request as an idole thought, for
as serious as anie that I
have placed in
mj workes.
and I accompte
this
In th' Holie Word of Scripture we reade that a workman

is
worthy of
his wages,
is
my reward. As
hope of Fame
shal be,
it is
onely for a future, howsoever remote this
not vanity in
I offer apologie to anie

servation of
mee to make this request, nor do who heare and see. Sure the conrenowne may not cause wonder since much
honour that
is
my
^yes
due
may
for aye be denied me.
This
must be true
story herein
if
none have understood, I place

joylesse
my
joylesse
and sad indeede, yet
true,
and
in a history nothing but the last proprietie hath waight.
Then,
too, co'sta'tly in
mind
is th'
proude hope that
my
owne kinde friend
ml folow,me
thus farre in th' work.
him the
and
title
Baron, also Viscount,
To is without doubte known

F.
my
right to Eex.
SHAKESPEAEE PLAYS.
1623
FOLIO.
*You
labyrinth.
will either finde the guides or
be
lost in
the
my great dramaticall writings, severall other workes my Iêw Organ, the second part of my Instauration, my 'New Atlantis, (some parts of which I much desire you to write from my philosophicall
Every one of
papers) and the part of the Sylva Sylvarum (a JsTaturall

Historic that I designe to leave as
it is),
my
Historic of
Henry
tell
the Sevent, as
well
as
my
workes of science,
containe in the last ten pages of the papers, rules that
how
to
work out the great word Cipher.
Keep
at
work.
FR. ST. ALBAN.
*Any
person using here the
bi-literall
Cipher, will find
a rule to be followed
when
writing the hidden letters in
which are
Histories, Comedies, Tragedies; a Pastorall of
the Christ; Homer's epics and that of Virgil, which are

fully rendered in English poetry; the completion of
my
New
first
Atlantis; Greene's Life; Story of Marlowe; the two
secret epistles (expressely teaching a
Cipher
now
for the
time
submitted,
doubtfully,
for
examination
and
studie,
by any who may be
sufficiently curious, patient,
or industrious);
part of Thyrsis
(Yirgile's
Eclogues);
Bacchantes, a Fantasie; Queene Elizabeth's Life (as never

before truely publisht); a Life of the Earl of Essex, and
my
owne.
FR.
LORD VERULAM.
*Ben Jonson.
Heming and
Condell.
165
166

*Francis of Yerulam
is
autlior of all the plays hereto-
fore published
by Marlowe, Greene, Peele, Shakespeare,

first
and of the two-and-twenty now put out for the
time.
Some
are altered to continue his history.

F. ST. A.
*Search for keyes, the headings of the Comedies.
FRANCIS BARON OF VERULAM.
*As I sometimes
Ciphers,
writing.
place rules and directions in other you must seeke for the others soone to aide in
FR.
OF
Ve.
*Queene Elizabeth
bookes containe;
(if
is
my
lawful! heire to the throne.

it tells
true mother, and I am the Finde the Cypher storie my
great secrets, every one of which
imparted openly) would forfeit

^Francis
St.
my
life.
F.
BACON.
Alban, descended from the mighty heroes
of Troy, loving and revering these noble ancestors, hid

in his writings
Homer's
Illiads
and Odyssey
(in Cipher),
with the
^neid
is
of the noble Virgil, prince of Latin poets,
inscribing the letters to Elizabeth, E.
*Fr.
Bacon
the author,
unknown among men
as such.
Cypher workes, gives full directions, in a great many places, for finding and unfolding of severall weightie secrets, hidden from those who would persecute the betrayer, yes, even take a person's
in this way,
his
life.
He
and in
Then take
care that he be not endangered
by your
zeal.
Eeade easy
lessons
first,
and forsooth the Absey in the

act one,
is
Life and Death of
King John,
his
a good one;
it
shewes the entrance to a labyrinth.

leader,
Court Time, a sure
and proceed to
Alphabet of E'ature.
Leame
F. B.
well two portions, Masses, and the Eule.

*L. Diggs.
*I.
Search this out.
Names. *Catalogue of Plays. Prologue to Troilus and Cressida, *Headings of Comedies,

* Actors'
M.
IN
This letter
tells
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
you how
to
167
produce
my
most highly
estimated unpublished labours of to-day, and I beg you

try to understand
it.
Go
as
I direct,
but finde each subtile signe, that
silentlie like fingers, shewes
your waye.
Actus primus,
King John,
Bacon's
gives th' epistle's first wordes, near the

to you.
word
Absey already familiar

light in so
Join these plays to Fr.
Novum Organum:
lost.
but other plays must shed their
wonderous a Cipher: none
may be found
if
my
work be
Seek not meerelie to read foure Cyphers, (for you

should find six in
students
all,
which I coppy here, in
full, to direct
how
they should work out
my
greatest Invention)
which you
a wise
shall take as I direct
you:
this is first: that
Clowne in the play who speaks of the plantan
leafe, is
man
here
Art outruns that grub Nature: hunt
out this Cipher, or anagram, at once:

in
now
finde a
number
(i.
my King
Henrie the Sevent corresponding to
this
e.,
the same kinde or style), next add the plaies of Twelfe
Night or
What You
Will, and Love's Labour's Lost; you
will finde here capitalls in
two formes,
it is
your next: the
face of
my
sixt
clock comes fourth:

is
my
symbols are next:

great Cipher of
and the
Ciphers.
what
all
shewes
my
Every
letter,
save the epics of Yirgill and
Homer,
is
dedicated to yourselfe.
FR. BACON.
*My
this
reason for using

is
my
translated stories to teach

to
Cipher
this:
I wish
get
my
Cypher
into
students'
rules,
curricula.
You
should do this worke by
my
and seeke for the keyes in the playes.

of the Histories.
First finde
Headings
Sk
168
the gods Jove, Pluto, Apollo, Yulcan, Minerva,
Juno and
Neptune, but do not omit any I^ymphe: add Greek heroes,
Bome captives; Dreams; the Sacred

priest;
Isles; Chryses, Apollo's
some Trojans; the names of townes in Greece and
Asia Minor; some parts also of Europe neare the Hellespont and the
bookes.
^gseum: you can now
write the
first
two
Thus begin:
O
Of
Goddess, sing of the destructive wrath

fierce Achilles, Peleus'
worthy sonne.
Thus continue in Iambi, with

above, taken
verses similar to the lines
from
their hiding places in the bookes I have

less
published;
ill
worth Homer's name,

still
musicall than
the Greeke, I
thinke
it
worthy of preservation and a

all
measure of honour.
put
Search
places in
which I have
my
keyes.
ISTear
words like Jovus, Hera,
Synoin
nymes,
as well as all the derivatives
from these wordes
are the sectiones of the translation.
Keepe
fact, it
lines,
though somewhat be added
to
Homer:
might be more truely Homeric

good and
to consider it a
poeme of the
For
this
times, rather than a historic of true events.

sufficient reason, the translation should
be in the forme of verse.
I use English Heroick verse,
usually paying but small heede to rime, like as you

see in
may
each
feete
to be
my
playes, yet in
my
other verse, rime being indis-
pensable,
and sometimes,
as in the closing line in
stanzo of the epics of the so cal'd E. Spenser,
^the
being too numerous, you

juste
may do
as to
you seems
and propper.
all places,
In
be heedfull of the meaning, but do not

I should
say.
consider the order of the words in the sentences.

joine
my
examples and rules together, you will
So I
IN
will.
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
169
In the Faerie Queene, booke one, canto two,
sec-
ond and third
lines of the seventh stanzo, thus speaking
of Aurora, write:
Wearie of aged Tithones
saffron bed.
Had
Or
spreade, through
dewy ayre her purple
robe.
in the eleventh canto, booke two, five-and-thirtieth
stanzo, arrange the matter thus, to relate in verse the great
attacke at the ships, at that pointe of time at which the
great Trojan took
up a weighty
it
missile, the
gods giving
strength to the hero's arme:
begins in the sixt verse:

stone,
There lay thereby an huge greate
which stood
Upon one end, and had not many a day Removed beene a signe of sundrie wayes
This Hector snatch'd, and with exceeding sway ....

It
is
an ensample, and the instructions are so
cleare, I
if
do
not think you can follow scent so well as a hound,
you
into
unkennell not the fox.
Seeke the keyes untill
all
bee found.
Tume Time
here,
an ever present,
faithfull companion, friend, guide, light,
and way.
For he who seeks an entrance

All
must be
furnished in that manner aforesaid.

as
my
names I use
my
fingers, to
shewe which worke to join by means of
the signes, which you so ofte' have seen in divers of

other workes.
my
am
secretlie
enscheduling worthie guides,

this lock to turne.
which shew the path, and keyes

ITow match to
these,
i.
when you hunt them

e.,
out,
all
Grseco-English wordes,
pleatlie
wordes that are not yet com-
made
English.
Keepe
my
rules so carefully im-
pressed upon your

aside; for
mind
in all cases, that
you bee not ledd

if
one who taketh the right waye,
he will push
170
on, will
win the
goale, the lawrell garland,
and the ap-
plause and praises
of the
left,
multitude: do not, therefore,
turne your steps to the

roade backward.
nor to the right, nor trace the

eies ever fixt
Keepe your
as
on the
goal,
and presse onward
I bid.
I will
make
it
a delightsome
way, trust me, aye, ev'n as the milk-white path of high
Jove on blew Olympus' summit.

Pursue, with caution, every devious way, never forgetting to retire back, before the chief highwaye be lost to
sight.
It
is
by such means
that events, (and
many
a fabu-
lous deede of the gods

to the Iliads are related,
and heroes) remotelie appertinent

while you this winding labyrinthe
FR. B.
trace out.
*You
as
are
now come to
It
is
the Catalogue. It cannot be done

story of not too unusual actions
you have in the previous

events.
and
divided into small parts, as you will

so widely scatter'd in
observe,
which are
my
writings,
this
you
should keepe
also
my
most common rule alway in
work;
keepe the order of the Greek in your translation.

F. B.
To
suit,
these keyes
now add
Strife, Terror, Fortitude,
Purth'
Din, Friendship; the ^gis; the remainder of
Olympian gods; the Eiver gods; the Simois

mander; with the many heralds. Sleep,
also the Sca-
Iris, also
Mercury;
Death and the Fates,
all clouds,
Chimseras, winds, Day,
Mght, and sweete Aurora; the Hours, who open Jove's gates; besides the Muses, Graces (who wait upon Yenus, or
attend on the fire-robed Sun-deity), and Furies, lightning,
thunder; Juno's birds, Yenus' doves, Jove's eagle; CenHeadings

of the Tragedies.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
with
171
taurs, steeds, chariots, lions, serpents,
many
other
words which you ought also to keepe near bye in readinesse

for use.
Dub
yourself as Knight of the Golden lies, and set out
in quest of great deeds, grande triumphs,
and Fortune's
golden meede: your Honour will grow in lustre as you
show forth the brightness of your ]âture; so

your Keputation be
stones,
as jewels,
also shall
and your Truth
as precious
which Art has made of exceeding worthe, beautie,
delightsomeness and estimation, and
Time harmeth
not.
tell
You
will
now
find
some wordes with a key, that
the
manner of joining
in most of
prose,
parts.
All workes do not give rules, as
my
playes; but
my
poemes, plays, portions of

translations,
and of tl^ numerous Latin and Greeke
also the stanzas of Italian
Iambi are composed so well that

astray.
you could
not, if
you would, go
all
When
keies
the partes
are separated, put

boxes,
matter of like kinde together in

so
which have been
marked with
and joining-
wordes that you

full for the
may
follow the plans with ease, not care-
outcome, since I
is
am
Architect,
you the Mastertemple,
builder: yours
the hand that shall erect the
when you
so that
lace,
shall
bring to a selected place the fairest stones

finde,
which you can
and cedar-wood hewed and shaped,

heaven
you could
raise towards
my
Solomon's Pal-
and nowhere be heard either
ax, or
hammer, or any
instrument of iron, as you put them in place.

derfull
its
How
won-
beautie,
no mortall eye hath
seen.
FR. ST. ALBAN.
*As apt
children have their dailie taskes, so also in this

is
hardest of employes, a dailie burthen
laid
on ev'ry hand;
houres manie, as free as mortall can desire, are e'er jewels

*The Tempest.
172

price; yet, in this,
beyond
an eager minde can find a dark

thus
chapter's
chiefe motif,
by
most
honorably
ease.
and
shrewdly using his moments of solitude and
The Tragedy of Macbeth must be added to this, then Edward the Second. As these are carefully con'd, many of iNTature's writing are to be read, and a rule to fit or join, now that of one name, now others, making a story,
joine
in
plays,
which shewes that
sin
of
my
who
despis'd,
is
(yet
royall
and
also loyal) friends, Essex,
my
brother,
and our most lovely parent, Queene Elizabeth; the tragedie

of his murther; an historic of
my
share
i'
th' triall of
my owne life; the storie of my brother; my owne downfall,

King John, Romeo and
of
Juliet,
with
many
such.
1^0
joine
King
Lear,
sixtie-two lines of
The Life
King Henry
Eight, partes
of such other as
tainty.
you need
my
rules dissipate all uncer-
More
prose must stande in this part of your

to relate
Cypher work, then has been used
my
stories.
Plays are by no meanes alwaies verse, therefore have I put a chain linking together by keies
in
my
speaches: those
Henry Seventh,
are
now many
lines in excesse ;
is
and
to
all,
or
much, upon the claiming Henrie's crowne
be
altered.
You
will finde that historic repeats itselfe in this,
and that
my owne
claime
story here given, has
much
that
is
simi-
lar to the
Warbeck made, yet

so false premises:
also differing, inas-
much
son,
as his
had
but I was Elizabeth's
by her wedded Lord,
elder brother to Robert, the
Earle of Essex,
who
raised a rebellion to obtaine his

all
owne
I, at
mother's kingdome, despite
other and prior rights.
As hunted
bale,
deer awaite death at every moment, so
had an hourly feare in both
my
brother's affects,
and
the hate and ill-intents of our mother and Cecil.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
Macbetli with Tempest,
it is
173
*When you match

conspiracie in each.
to
be
observed, in the deciphering,
how
like
is
joined with like

directions,
Note in Tempest the
and
do
as I
have done.
follow
You can
my
playes, as true keys, in
most com-
pleate succession, unlocke the closed doors of this secret
chamber, in which are caskets like to that which Alexander found, and wherein I hide, likewise, mine
as well as honor'd
own
bookes,
Homer,
his verses.
Search, seeke out a secret, imparted to no living person
except Mother Bacon, mine earlie friend and true, the
woman who
rare devices.
saved
me from my
furious,
owne mother by
I was as a brat, or waift, the girle throwes

to save her fortunes
from
do
all eies
is
and name.
to th'
if
ills
Hate
fall
juste, in
him who
is
made prey
which
is
even upon a babe most innocuous,

as
love
not
waking
naked,
he
sleeps.
Even then was I taken
forth, stript
th'
thinn soft bands a childe should f eele, a rough-
spun woolen robe replaced.
'None saw or pitied

yet
my harsh,
is
unkinde, accursedly cruel usage;
my
mother was a
:
wedded, honorable, and most^ royall
woman
her will
then the single bar between E. Saint Alban and a sceptre.
Take
multi
this play,
and
to
it
match that of Marlowe,

tipe, for it tells
i.
e.,
Edward the Second.
Note
a hidden lesson in Marlowe's
or rather double
form
work.
is
when
more
other
plays take forward
my
In
my
worthy mind
a better, a broader, a
farr-
renowned and farre-famous'd kingdom. Deny the imposed

gift
we
truely would, in hot anger, but love
is
so great a
is
requitall of
wrong, the anger in the humane heart
seen
a fire-eyed Eurie's child, turned from a region of

*Macbeth.
Nox and
174
her compeeres, and then
we
controule our passio's.
My
soul
love for Marguerite was the spirit which saved
my
from hatred, and fro vilde
passio's.
F. B.
^Search
this for a
more awefull
act then all
modern,
middle, and most

revealed.
will poison
nes, nightes
farre-off o' all farre-distante times has
It tells that sad, awefull story of
an act which
my
morning-sunrise, sunsett, the evening softbit-
darke heavie houres, and make the world

it is
ter to the end:
my
brother's cruel, foull ending.

is
Studie Time's rule: kin

like.
set
by
kin, like
is
joyn'd to
this, will
Recall to minde the play which matcht to
compleate the scene of torture

is
King John.
o'
When
this
done, a most sad, heavie story, in form

dilligent therefore,
a play,
is told.
Be
his
and give heede.
Attempt by
all
odds,
worke purposed for proud R. Ceciirs

plots into view.
sails,
record, to cast
woven and treacherous

Use every wind
to
fill
your great
hanging now
so
empty.
Idle no morn's golden houres away, nor even, nor

sail on,
night lighted by moones pallid and soft beames;
and fetch treasures Time will make more and

can ruin
th' royall
vestments
richer.
Moth
gems'
^the glitt'ring
crowne rust
may
corrode
no such
action ere shall
harme
my
golden, art-enchas'd rigoU.

E'ext
you must write a simple history or

worst, aye,
story of those
two men, with more of their subtle actes apparent.
They
just
were
my
my
onely foes.
Read
of some overt
insolence, acts so wicked, such violent deeds, I

fear, if
had a
imployed doing that [which] Fate (or whatsoever
power driving me) causes

to
me
to do,
my
enemie construed
to
come from
King Lear.
my
primary
resorte, a
predominant desire
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
mark imprest
175
be endued with a royalty-robe, as a

seal
to set the
upon
my
rights,
by
virtue of
occasion
they
were
mindfull
my birth. Upon every of my where'bouts. I

their
coulde finde the path to Olympus, however, wing waie with
Muse
t'
sing high paeons, farre

spite.
from the murmur of
envy and
Their power I did evade.

brain, a heart, farre
est depths of
This duty so munified
remote and seeking to reach the deep-
knowledge, that I followe
my
so
main worke.
Attempts
fail
which a
tireless
enemy doth
tume
hate's
minister of
harm most
truely doth good, not
ill,
to
my
sundrie* devices and designs.

It
must now bee
left in this
forme, for a
t'
trite,
though
true, simple story,
may
not be used
it
form
this
kind of a
play,
and I have arranged

knowledge
in plain prose, but I hope
you
it
will gain
thereby.
If this part be read,

clear,
makes
my
method of word-signes
and anie carefull
painstaker
who doth inquire here, will undoe my mistery. have many single livres prepared for my deare Maris
guerite; one
in these other historicall playes,

It is her
and in the
true love
cherish'd
play, Jas. Fourth, of R. Greene.
story in the French,
and I have placed
own many a
secret in the little loving wortheless books: they
were kept
for her wishes to finde
some
lovelie
reader in future
ônes.
lives so
part of the one I place in
my owne
historic,
pure no amorous soilure taints the faire pages.
So
fair
was
she,
no eyes ere looked upon such a beauI saw her
teous mortall, and I saw no other.
Eve
all
to their
wondrous paradise
French
one Mar-
as if
no being, no one in
this
high heaven's
wide realm, save onlie
guerite, did ever exist, or in this nether world, ever, in all
King John.
176
the ages to be in the infinity of time, might be created.
But
there
came in
days, close in the reare,
when I would
fain have lived
my
honored days in this loving-wise, ruin
worthy husband's hopes, and manie a vision, had there bin

onlye one single
Adam
therein,
^which should be, and
was
not, solely myselfe.
Join
to
Romeo
with Troy's famous Cressida,
if
you wish
know my
story.
Cressida in this play, with Juliet,

first
both that one in the Comedy, where she

as Claudio's lady,
doth enter
and the one of
my
Tragedy
just given,
like a fickle
are
my
love,
whose minde changed much
dame's.
Years do nere pay his
sin's
paine-boughten bond in
man, or take paine from the remembrance ever keene with

the
ignomy which
This
this fickle ladie
put upon dumbe, blind,

lovers.
deafe, unthinking
is
and unsuspicious
tolde plainly in
my
story.
Ever kind, true
in
houre
o'
neede
as in that of pleasure, I sufFer'd
most cruell
torments in mind.
snare,
Thus Trojan
Cresid', Troylus did en-
and the words
his sadd soule speaks do say to
you
This
that his ill-successe,
and that I did have,
will here be told,
such oneness was in his sorrowfull hap and mine.
makes the next
parte.
Often mid a waste appeare
many
purest water-rises.
found a pure cup which nature's

filled to its
prettiest dales
do form,
brim
as
with Iêpenthe: this I drank, and so in
time I did shuffle
off
my
old amour.
Study in
this
wide
realm
tells
many usefuU
truths:
Time
reveals matter long

gift,
held in darknesse amid this very frank
an inheritance
earthlie
which
power.
is
farre greater than
manie a wide realme of
*Romeo and
Juliet
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
177
These plays contain

part of
my
early history.
Conjoine
the
this
my
other great plaie
named when I gave you

e.,
taske, Julius Ccesar,
Henry the
i.
Eight, Fift and Fourth,
just as I put
plays,
them
here,
in this order, to
make the
was given
false,
whereof events of such importancy, and of so great

plots,
I,
accompte do make up the

to a revelation of them,
my
best Cipher
["ay"] events so
set
down
which
in writing
by
my
wicked mother, that none have
wills so strong as to finde out the state of

is
any kind of
illes
laid
by
for the good opportunitie.
The
opporif
tunities are at this
Queene's orders, thereiore not scene,
it so gratifie Elizabeth.
ISTeretheless
my
labour must bring villainie unto just
punition, give the full
name
of the one
who
is
heir appar-
ent * to this kingdom, put to rightes the most important

records of these lands, with
much hard bought

icie chilles into
if
truth,
and
turne from the
lees, or
rack a flagon of a red wine, the
which, running cold, sendes
my
soule; ay,
crudled blood this wine proves,
you
see the
as
cuppe runthis life
ning ore in that soft white hand, and

of
'tis
from
my
veines, indeed.
And
truly
you
shall not thinke or intimate to
men, that
the life of
my
onely born brother could be more dear to

or rugg-headed wild Irishman than to
some rufian
officer,
my my
for's
heart: but
man
has at
all
times a love
still
larger
own
life; e. g. in
God's owne book you do find
many
and
if
such a Scripture.
life
You may
thus see man's heart loveth the
here better
vaine
as it is
ene then
it
eternitie,
I did prize life as do most men,
may
scarce be
deemed
wante of courage and of honour.
When
you have found the larger
story hidden in
my
workes, you
may
see
many
things in an unnoted and yet
*Trolius and Cressida.
178
not unnaturall relation. Join Othello, and Life of Richard
Second: then Anthony and Cleopatra, Cymbeline, Hamlet,
Richard the Third, Timon, and Edward
First, placing the
same in
this order.
great quarto in which you will finde Richard the
Second, has none of

titles; also
my
letter
or
epistolic story in the
a part of a Cipher play, with this most heavie

full just
tragedie,
and a
accompt therein of
it, is
all
the secret
Folio has
reasons which conduc'd to
wanting; but
is
my
no part omitted, and the Cypher
in
many
of later date
than Essex' crudest torture, for the true rendering of his

history.
You must
put your time on the same,

lesse share of a
lest these
more valued workes receive a

than manie
stories that were
worke-howr
put
meere
tales for boys,
beside the plaie that I here

since the story
is
name
Tragicall-History,
that of Essex, in his dark end.

as firm of heart,
Kings must have some happy guard

and ene
other kind of battel as
guards.
so strongly furnisht forth to war, j'ust, turney, or
ancient Alexander, his picked
Failing of his helpers, that would-bee king was

trial
held for
for treaso', co'demn'd,
made
to tell his ambi-
tious designes, tortured,
for in the prison, vilde

hell,
men,
his
keepers,
by
arts
more pitichie-hued than
having ob-
tain'd a permittance to cause paine sufficiente to burst the

seale
upon the
lipps of
maddened Essex, with burning
irons
put out both lovelie eyes,
then
of
coldly executed.
'No tale of ages before our blessed Saviour suffered such

death, has one halfe the
woe
this.
Ev'n the barbarians

Shut not
of anie age,
would burn men
to cinders lesse murth'rously.

fro'
God! forgiveness cometh
Thee.
truest book,
my
God; shut out
my
past
this
^love's little
sunny
IN
hour,
if it
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
179
soe please Thee, and
some of man's worthy work,
yet Essex's tragedy here shew forth: then posterity shall
know him truly. Read well your many

simple signes
or
rules
which
shall tend to a speedie

to severall
accrument of matter, to be correctly oppos'd

marks.
In these
subtile waies I
shew
whe'
when many
a few will
like
plaies are to supplie the matter,

tell
and
also
much.
The most
of
my
keys are words
some portion of the

work'd.
play, such as dead, death, dye, or
dying, kill and murth'rous torture

ther
of
is
when
the scene of muruse, if I speak
The
*first
were what I most
mine only
few suspect
bom brother Essex, such common words that my volumes had simply hidden the chiefe of
must shew you how
I,
the untold story.
Your
use
keies
by
this
new method
or traces
my
invention.
Sure boundes are thus
set,
showing them.
As
in your
lists
you compleatly subdue by
skill, so
must
other sundry hot [contests] be out-fought, but no true
pow'r should impropriate

look most calmly upon
moe then
is just.
True you do
my loss
from a
safe distance, yet to
me
the injurie never can be repaired.
You
used.
will finde
them
in most every other
work I have
It
This
may
not apply in date, or events, I grant.
gives most publickly such, as all other ladies
whom Queene
stur-
ûsed in Essex'
undoing; his well-seen youths with
dieness like to the men's, wreaking 'pon all their pitiless
vengeance with
many
warm hand
steep'd as in wine, so
red in crimson gore.

It did
behoove
desperate
me to
be wary, yet for
my
Prince Eobert
took
hurts.
As
the danger
many hundred
*Julius Caesar.
180
times verified fear of our old compeeres, with an angryheart, I ofte
saw Essex summon in minio's
to sit in halles
of judgement, in whose hands his very life was in peril.
He would tume from
the wisest wordes of hundreds, ruled

so lov'd.
by the hardy sons England
Losses unthought of, hostes of hamperers where he had
put boldest confidence that most loyall helpers would sustai'
him, with his hasty measures,
much weaker
i.
troopes,
as
wel as a most utter want of anie true, indubitate reme.,
nant of every king's whole right,
simple honor, I
know, were the controulers which made
his fate certaine.
You
prose,
will
i'
need but
my
easily learned keies to follow
any
of
lost thrids
the plays,
two stage-plays,
worst factionall
effort's failure,
the Life Essex in the form and has a part many I name an
of a story that
that
in
in Peele's workes.
first
of. his
unpublished story; some you will find in a play out of

print.
published
it
The
earliest
plays that had

the
my
brother's
youth as the times, and
many though
not so rare (so early), unpublisht yet in

that,
any forme except

is
name Greene
t'
as the author.
This
but
my
author-name
hide ^
my
owne. It serveth also

future ages.
as a guard, as
none such will be
lost in
You
of
will finde
more
o'
history in such works, but

It
much
Homer's great poem.

name,
more
also
chiefly
makes up
my
delightsome Hiren the Eaire Greeke,

lished in Peele's
Titus,
and
a stage-play I pub-
my
Dido,
my
tragedy of
many poems,
Tale of Troy, Yenus and Adonis,

of Marlowe's
translation
Jonson's Masks, and
much
of
Lucan, of Hero and Leander, and the Eaerie-Queene,

Sheapherd's
Calendar
^which
marks
Ovid's
now
bear only Spenser's
Elegies,
and
also the
Eape
of Lucreece,
all
*Henry the Eighth.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
181
Greene's wanton verses

tilie
those mixt poem-prose

o'
stori's, wit-
having for onr purpose Achilles or others as heroes
especially Pandosto,
Arraignment
Paris, (the one last
named
was published as Peele's play), Menaphon, Orlando

of his life
Furioso, Marlowe's Tamburlaine, Dr. Faustus, with Troylus, (the story
except as you have
it
given you
earlie
as a part of
some passage
in th' sorry story of

first,
mine
fond love for rare Eve, French Eve,
worst, loveliest
upon the face
o' this earth, th'

i'
beauteous Margaret
the walls
o'
and
Troy)
his chief exploits
th' battailes outside
King
of Arragon,
King Henry
th' Sixt, Battail of
Alcazar:
Spenser's, as Shakespear's,
num'rous love poems of many shower
kinds, sonnets,
and
so forth, that
my
Margaret
as
with water of Castaly, are also part of the Iliads and

Odyssey.
My
my
in
translations are
love poems
many times emploied may but show this, you wiU
twice.
If
understa'd.
In the Cypher
its
story, inside plays,
my
hidden book mask'd
sentences oftentimes a play, or story, divided more,
that
it
may forme
the inmost of
my
secret epistles.
Of course we must not suppose our Latin work to remove our other Cyphers away from sharpe inquisition, but
while this remaines undiscovered
my
secret
is
quite
exempt
greatest
from suspect
My
share.
first
important letter to you concerns
my
invention of a meanes of transmitting whatsoever I wish to
My
story
then must
my name
of blot, or
in this way after I am dead; among men cleared from all sorts imputation o' wrong advice to Queene Elizalive
may be found
beth
i'
th' triall of
Kobert, the Earle of Essex, for treason.

to ayde, if th' case require,
Queene has many
but a sud-
182

justice pursues a subject that taketh
state.
den
any
liberty in
matters of
When the offence is from her true
sonne,
building mighty hopes upon the overthrowe of the power

of our Queene
greater
not makeing the

it
sinfulness lesse, rather

is
his
punishment most naturally

doth blow
greater.
It
is
justice, yet
how
my
heart.
At men's rhany
harsh insinuations or open obloquy,

till
my
indignation swell'd
my
heart was too great.
ISTative
pride would cause one to seeke a

state of matters for justification
:
means of shewing the true

true he
is
onely actuated *
is
by
his
worse growth of motives, but the facte
irrefute-
able
a most simple and naturall desire for just and worthy
men
to give
him
full dues.
all)
Most, (or at times, truth to say,

respect; the
seeke for true

lives;
most of us insure
this,
no doubt, by our
looked for,
but occasion, that ariseth when

fairest prospects
least
may mar
event
most suddenly.
An
unexpected
may
in
blast his future with sorrow.
Sole accomptant must I be hereafter for the share I had
my
brother's sorry fate, but
none here will fully acquit
me, and so
advantages.
my
worthiest opponents have
many
notable
man who is milde in nature, must be harder punishment (I am assured in heart it must be so) then to the man of iron nerves and hardy temperature. I am no soldi'r, but not a coward either. I am a student, a philosopher, I may say a savant, and I am senInjury to an innocuous
sible
of
injuries.
In so farr as
this is unjust, I
hereby
demande true and

doth regard
altered
rightful examination
by any man that

this
my by my
Fifth.
brother's case
counsell,
and
his sentence as greatly
and reporteth
same every-
*Henry the
IN
where.
'd'red.
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
183
Let
my
plea be heard and just judgement be renthis,
I will aske but
"Aye, strike but
liste to
me,"
and marke how love

course at
all
is
alwaies manifested in our enter-
the times of meeting in prison,
many
him
of
my
own
written protestes and entreaties to Essex to turn
aside,
intending meerely his onely good, the safety of his

^
person.
When
did fare.
trust
its
is
proved falsely grounded,
much
of hope
droops upon
stalk like a
summer's
flow'r.
Thus Essex
O, thinke what such a sorrowe was, such puis-
sant grief, dismaie and uttermoste despaire!
Whenere
fine it
this story in
Cipher doth push ope
th' sepul-
ture door, strip the clothes and napkins which would con-
from
offe its feet,
and
so stepp out
among
living
human
work
forth,
beings,
my
inmost heart must be reveal'd, op^n as

last
upon God's great day of a

as the
judgment.
it
Make your
to rise, stand
voyce that shall commande
and
tell to
mankinde
its
secret woe.
I use words to indicate the part of
my
life in
France,
using the keyes as just given with but a few added, such as
Paris, France, court, Charles,
Henry.
Joyne minde or
the conscience
affection, love,
braine (with the faculties) also
spirit, soule,
with heart, and the other words signifying

hate,
it
envie, antipathy
t'
and
like passio's.
In example
o'
turne
Cymbeline, actus primus, scena secunda, by
(Queene) see (Love) (Heart) both by the key-words nam'd

in
my latest list,
thus setting
off to
another use each of the
sections so shewne.
So ever Marlow, Peele, Greene, or
aniething which doth containe the storie of the stay in
Margaret's sunshinie France.
Assorte out into drawers and boxes that so they

*Henry the Fourth, Part
I.
may
184

all
bee convenient to your hand, on the one hand putting

o' the earlier history keies,
on the other
i'
th' double-keyes
of the later part.
IsTever cease
the pursuite until the
worke be ended.
So may most precious writings of

Spaine.
It is that part
my
owne
tory
brother's be read, as I did include a part of his hiso' th'
Armada from
where
Palmer doth pursew

ish
vessels.
(all that night,
indeede, after brave
action) in the rear o' the flying spirit-like sails o' the Span-
Every
line
was written
ere those bragging
Jackes arrived at the harbours from which they had sailed

a few months before.
Making your next

Spaine,
it
portion of worke the
may
soone be scene a
number
o'
Armada from keies must now
have
attentio',
and many be joined
to them.
in
Mary many
did enjoyne upon Phillip such a course, and, as

cases, the subjects did
have greater love and more
devotion to the
Head
of their Church then truth and loy-
alty to eyther country or Queene, there
was somewhat
o'
Armada reached the farre-away seamen. When they put out, many hundred Englishmen, of whatever communion, rose in defense. The love o' home is a stronger affection, in some doughtie serconfidence wanting as rumours
o'
the
vants of the Pope, and of England, then the love of things
which pertain
I shall not
ing, as ev'n
o'
chiefly to that religion of

lesse
which much
is
rumoured but much
knowne.
make much of this subject then, when writmoe zealous and blinded servants of the Church
and home, then came
t'
the old religion, rous'd with fury, did run to fight inso-
lent Spaine, to protect life
ayde
(summoned
to assist
by the Pope's comma'd)
indeed few
made
anie signe to manifest their allegiance to ought but
England.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
Foiir^li,
185
In our Second Henrie

ope most heavie doors^
if
you
'^
will finde keyes that
you seek
dilligently.
These are
words, and you neere would wish any other subtile marke,
so plain doe all keies
shewe the designe.
To
these you
conjoyne divers wordes which stand a fewe spaces from

the keyes
and
o'
are so well chosen that though oft used,
my
plans are thereby not scene
and
marke that which

shal
doth shewe the portions which must be built up like the

stone walles
a castle.
But the workes, when you
have finished them must reveale a strength shielding

beautie.
Make
this
booke a great story of a
stirring, fierie-tem-
pered man,
who fought
this
brave battels for Elizabeth, not
meerely in
warre with Spaine that you are
now
to
write out, but in severall which I do give in full in

history.
my
'No
enemy doth
up
so doughtily
throw downe
his
bold
defiant challenge as Philip, true sonne of Spaine;
none
takes
that glove with greater ease or with
more won-
derous
light
skill
then Elizabeth.
She
it is
that
upon now, for writing
at a time of
we shall thraw so much danger
the penne was mild.
Men
in such bold history
whom
thrust most to your presence,

to plead for
may
neede have some time
mercy
at
God's high throne, when their
many
crimes, hired to be performed, are unveiled.
Sin oft strongly warres in

ous act be done, bears wrong
th'
mind, and
if
no murtherhumil'ty,
o' jeeri'g
much yoked with

the worst
is
but
if
crime be on a person's hands, manie a rout
divels
fared
come into his soule o' which Her Ma., Queene Elizabeth.
spirit
pride.
So
Her whole
was but one infernall * region,

II.
a realm
*Henry the Fourth, Part
*Othello.
186

i'
o'
Pluto, untold days
her tjmes of mirth, or times of staid
and verie grave deportment; for the blood of her youngest borne was upon her royall hand, if not that of mania
others, heirs to a future o' paine.
I'
sooth none can div'lge
her greatest harmes, for this world's eyes have no worthy

use,
but
all
shunn the vision

vanity
o'
shame, especially in this

veniall even, but
Queene.
Her
did.
may seeme most

o'
vaine motives lay at the bottome
everything which this
woman
She was
accusations.
my
I,
mother, yet I more then anie other have

I answer here a few of the world's
cause to curse her.
after insult above
your just conceit, I open
my
hard
lips for
my
first
lengthy complaint, uttering here
much
of the gall
and naturall wrath

a yeere.
my
burdened heart
has carried
many
Have
patience, I prithee,
untill
my
his-
worthy friend, and continue your writing,
my
it
tory at least has been co'pleatlie finished; then if
must
bee
it is
left, it
must
bee, yet do
you keep
in
mind one thing
this
now must we
my
see the glancing of Fortune's light,
to th' desire of
unsubmiss soule; some will be pleas'd,
I doubt not, to yeeld. If your pen have no glory,

it,
indeed,
is
by some
short-
coming of your owne, for I have prepared the way

tune and high favo'.
to for-
You may
rigoll.
be
my
voyce to
utte' the
words I would fain speak,
yet, should
you
refuse, another
browe
will
winn the
If hate's
venom
leave a soule doom'd, no ray does light

th'
mine awefuU tombe, no sun sweetly ilume
waye.
With Thee
of light, and
is
hope, forgiveness, peace,

of our being.
God, Father
Author
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
1S7
Pilate said, wheii hee had framed a title for the of the Jews,
King
Thus
"What
I have written, I have written."

as
it is,
must
is
my work of this nature be left my onely honor may put vastly

E'o men's heirs of
and that which
more happinesse upon
us.
empty honours do outvie

friend, th'
my
right
witty and
threads.
much valued
man who
raveled these
I burthen one,
who
to do
my
old friend of truth
and much constancy,
justice,
must not be of our time, and
my wish is that my whole workes should bee for you' good. By my tones I shewe first various waies to direct the eie
to
any portions
lesse in
o'
the Cypher.
Truth
to say th'
winds
I
is
change
the daie then doth th' guiding hand.

o'
took for mine instruction the signs
some forme that
helde worthy but use no such important marks, except

th' dot, to
shew when our
shifts
should be furder.
You
then turn to
my
guide word, finde by your Small table

is
which
o' th'
numerous works
indicated: next seeke the
word-keye and write what you * there finde.
Each of the
concern
stories thus'
made
it
to relate a part that is
but half made out
my
others
will
for slower waye we employ doth but when has ben work'd
this
all
out,
my
is
method
be thought marvellous.
faile,
It
manie times
given with fear of
warring
i'
the spirit with fear
of a worse result.
Too
o'
clear
meanes were not of
acc't, for th' restlesse
eyes
foes watched
my
worke, to finde a thread to twiste into
the loop of th' executio'r; too dense, concealed noe less th'
much
valew'd guiding hand which ledd to the Cypher.
Sundry words shewe

severall
my
works
as scene in to
my
Instauratio;
as well, as say, quite
more have anothe' name
marke them
you
will see, very exceptionall, or rather, I
may
*Richard the Second.
188

and iTiiequaled
use.
originall
make them
to shut out all

rules,
but this f aithfull decipherer, for the instruc'ions,

so forth, are widelie scattered.
and
I do not give sufficient in
any one of these playes
to
bewray
my
Cipher, but he
who
hath turned aside for no fleet footed Siren, or I^ymphe,

will enter into a richer store of goldene treasure
even then
I say
he has dre'mt
of, for
I lead his eager steps.
Hence
is
again to you, do you keep pressing on for a day shall
come
It
that shall bring
its
dues of joy.
us.
o'
Life
but one
sh'rt race; it
is
doth not twice reward
well to
know
a crown can one
these good days

ill,
be put on
nor
evill
an
imortall crowne that ruste shall do no

to such as do inherite
it,
men deny
or winne in
au-
any
sorte of strife of th' poets
authors with brother
thors.
It awaits
one whom Time maketh Truth's
expositor,
for he
who may unseen, though himself simply serving knowne, * I may say an honoured man, ^write and pub-
lish
the secrets I do thus conceale,
may have more

a city.
glory,
more fame, even then he hath who taketh

th' great
Whatsoever of honour, of fame, or glory

reward giv'n unto him,
to it
my work
hath,
my
is
minde now open'd fully

equall braine,
(my truthf uU would make avowall) of

friend,
hand and
heart, as
story,
plainly indicated
by
his
ability to search out
my
must
it
bee even greater.
This then shall crowne your head:
can
fal to
no other
first
even after
we have turned
t'
clay, for
you must be
whoever Time bringeth
afte' you.
man's achievements truely do out-live man, or
his
love or hate, bitter as the one
may
life.
be and sweet
th' other.
The long
silence will not lie eternall ages

is
on the tongue,
this
but in his writings

discourageme'ts.
new
Mind
amidst
all
Anthony and
Cleopatra.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
if
189
Time
shall
reward our patience

if
we do
trulie well,
and
await the daye;
our worke be
ill,
the yeeres will pointe
the finge' of scorn at us.
I would be no object of such
attention, yet do I seeke the noting eies of posterity
and
write for
men
not living on
th' face o' earth.
Th'
o'
ôns
that are to be, doe not so rudely plunge
men
mark'd
eminence into old-time idole night,

compleat and pe'fecte possession
of
at least not in full
remarkable pow'rs.
Thus I put a calme, brave, enduring

heart ever in
ev'n
chearfull
my
looks,
nor turn
my
eies fro' a
mark
in
Fame's
target.
When
you have fully
collected the keies into such part
of your working-roome as shall not bee disturbed, begin
your task by assorteing your keys.
You
should not use

note also that
more of them than I give in

these
th' small table;
must not be used
as
you open'd divers books, with

i'
noe order, no method, no system, but these are links

long chaine.
plays and
th'
All are guides
t'
another part o'the secret
my many
poemes that are hidden in workes of
any valew, that I have sent out since I invented

small Cypher while I was in Paris in
my my early youth. my owne
first
When one will

but
if
take the work noe furder, you use others,

in th' order of
i'
you wo'ld keepe keys

it
table
you must finde

some table
tainlie
of great aide
i'
th'
work.
Remember,
Finde
cer-
well gleaned keies must vary

as
the apparent use.
above
manie may be seen in your work

If the table changes
even now, since you must finde some in each play;

as
these are good ayds.
form
Cypher
plays,
first
it is
because I sek to avoid confusion.
My
and sixth Cyphers appear even more in some
unpublisht poems of
my
early yeares, and
my
rules are
to
explained therein with such sundry notes,
designed
190
render aide in the work, as well as to give to book-lovers,

or cursory readers even, factes relating unto this matter
handled,
that
it
was too evident and

still
clear.
'tis
With
the kingdome
greater in fact then most,

o'
not then bold to dub myself heir to one
those happily
placed realms ev'n old Neptune's waters keepe
from every
o'
harme and
I
threat of danger.
Yet
in this
work
my hands
am
heire-apparent to a
much
loftier seate, a scepter of
pow'r that must ev'n extende to posterity.

death can take
E'er time nor
my
second kingdome from me.
But future
ages shall crowne you king of
many more
f arre-extending.
shall shine as
The
royall scutcheon of
fill
your worthy arms
the sunne,
your mindes eyes with dazzling light and
glory, turn darkest night to daie
and
scatter every cloude.
Each booke
out
truelie doth
make
the glory greater, but with-
my help
No
^ you could not hope just or generous attention
will be given you, for I do
compas
this
end
at least.
subject which hath a place
o' state
in the written
bookes, shall be lost to th' carefull kindlie person that doth

so finde this secret,
and
th' story
:
he shall take from

is
this
Cypher may ever reveale each the one which

this
of import-
ance here doth ch'efly concern him that speaks to you in
maner.
No
Art's
it;
doubt I will shew manie errours each day.
When
maske
is
in ruins
lifts
marke well those features behind
when Nature
the veil that conceals th' First or
Primal Cause, there shall stande reveal'd one [not] now

recognized; so then shal Eeputation be
and not
shall
as it
is
thought; Fortune, also
knowne as it is Honor and Truth,

right to be
be seen in Time.
is
It
your hand which shall make

else shall
all th'
knowne,
our dust, lying in
its
tombe unhonour'd
Cymbeline.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
t
is
191
by love
arid
estime sucli as
its
given unto other royall
Princes, feel in
least particle the
wrongs that I beare.

works the Cypher
others, while it
I have placed in
that
is
many
of
my
latest
to intimate feid pointe out
some
hath so small use in works of

rarely. as
lengi;h, that
I speak of
it
You
find
it
oft in prose
workes
little
it is
symbols, and
hath already beene said hath

th'
use
if
your
letter
be
length ev'n that Mllet doux are ofte made.

list so
End your
more you
th'
will not
now
finde
nor
at anie time are
your more thoroughly culled tables to
bee left and laid aside, as

all
new names
o'
are given, but
are used.
You
doubtlesse observe this in numberlesse
places
when
writing.*
If some
it
the words are (as these
above) but rarely used,
doth even more conceale a

as
Cipher mystery.
In soe farre
wordes having a double
use (double Cypher being oft shevme in the same work)

naturally occurring for
names of the
writer, could
be varied
this
and imploied, such have had the chief e place; but, as

could not be used in
all
the plays, do not looke for the
other epistle if you be onelie a curious seeker.
Enter upon the queast with

earnest frame of minde.
zeale, or, at least, in
an
It doth ever assure a
good course.
Finish the portion given here, the' take Cypher

six
number
and work out the
first letter,
as it
hath a part of a
plan that I have carried on in these other Cyphers; but

for the double use, take in this place.
its
numerous
full directions
found
I have oft put the most usefull hints of

difiicile plays,
i.
all
in the
more
e.,
the plays that are
made up
chieflie
of fragments.
When
one Cypher hath part of a rule (the
rules plac'd in this Bi-literall

*Hamlet.
and the "Word Cipher in
my
192
workes, however, forme an exception) others near this one
have parts of
it also.
The play
of
Hamlet hath the commencement

interest.
.^
of
Cipher rule of no small
One
called a
Time
th'
Cypher, because numbers were keyes, sheweth you

first o'
th' directions, the Bi-literall, the second,
and the
capitall letter
Cypher hath the

i'
last.
'No
more
are needed
for these letters
th' plays
then you shall by this time

acrosse,
have, or at the most
must soon come
and I requeast
the Seventh,
you
to finde th' rule concealed, first in

o'
Henry
then explained in one
the playes.
Err not in
conquers
'Tis
all:
my
worke.
Hope
quickens to duty: trust
for truth
is as
the crowne
won
in th' race.
evermore
th' part of
an eager runner
if successe
'tis
bee
desired, to
keepe on bravely to
given
th' goale, for
unto him
a crowne
is
who doth
and
claime the prize alone, through
his timely efforts
his perseverance.
In study hope may in part aide you.

of pleasure, and on his
Keepe a most
cautious watchfull eye on that *foe to your worke, a love

sister, idlenesse,
for of their comas
panionship no good doth come.
Take our lampe
your
onely guide, and stay but to see th' lustrous gem-studded

sceptre that doth appeare f arre to reach, but shall asuredly
command much
haste on
i'
that doth lesse please then honor, for I

othe', better or fuller
fond hope of some
and
richer reward.
The thought which

folly,
gives
t'
my weak
courage assurance
of truth's finall triumphe seems feeble,
ev'n to some,
as great
yet
life
better
men
oft seeke their
fame with
love of th' vaporous breath of worldly plaudits.
imagine that
my
ordeal would be so
owne
much
better, if to
You but much lighte', my our future we portray as so
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
193
much
given.
to be desired, a
due measure of ease and wealth be
Look
to
in
former works explaining plans we have formed
ayde our
if it
many
seekers afte' greatnesse, such as do not
cower
be Troy to winn, or Helena's faire face to see:
gaily they go.
So sure
"
is
my
hero of your ayde,
o'
due
zeale in his arduous
undertaking, that
we
leave him.
key
t'
unlocke will Fortuna
now
set forth,
and
his
turning will ope most lordly portalls.
Followe whithe' a
man's steps mark yon way, as I gave her

pursuer as an inception to this quest.
test
many
a faint
at the
Taking each
you may prove
great,
and doubly win honor.
Worlds,
yes the univearse,
may
note our acts and

history,
we may open
it
every tragedie of our
own
but to mince my* woes,
or vaunt unseemlie wrongs to me, although
may be
constant temptation, are both so truly unjust, so futile,

that I will
in
no longe' spende man's quickly

o'
flitting
weeks
bemoneing the woes

I
my
youth.
may
then to this labour apply both fervour and joy,
for so shal
my
loved books take
of the tryall yet to be.
From
many more o' th' thoughts livi'g so mu6h in Paris I

beames
to eve's
have a truly Fre'ch

a
spirit.
Th' love of inquiry so employs

sent e'rly
or,
mind from morn's wydelie

the earth,
faire
final parti'g fro'
are burn'd low,
the
truly saying,
o'
till
tapers
hand
Science leades to th'
hightes with so sweet a grace, no

for' shall I
man
could
resist.
o'
There-
make
studie not alone th' attendant
every
fill
day, but, as well, th'
bosom
it
friend.
Studie doth
still
hung'ring minde, while
leaveth behind
greater
desires to attai' to all heights,

seas mortal
and sou'd those wondrous
man
Third.
hath nere su'mounted or sounded.
Richard the
194
For many
cleare to
earlier lines o' th' play I heere
am making
Th'
latter
my
followers
i'
th'
other (or Word-Cipher) that
of
Eduard
shal be th' next joined after
Timon.
not
hath
much
later rend'ri'g of events, for
life is contain'd in
works of anie extente.
much o' his Mark your

or
keyes, resting not until

fluctuating.
you
slothful shal be found,

all
Since I upon
of these
most precious
books have nere ask'd one word, nor said one to winne
praise to
my
name,
o'
it
must bee
loste
study
if left.
A
must
true love
my
I
Ciphe^ work, old as manie of such

part of a series, which a
is
be, (indeed
name
more
is
industrious
man must
too oft consider
too meage')
as mine,
one of the best
aides, for
no work handFd
can be
dull.
what
but
woful
tale so-e'er it
o'
may
tell,
Oft
many may
seeme winnow'd
just morale
essays or sermons,
is
much wrought and drawn

labor so full
aydes,
life as
it
out into plaies, yet
my
truest
o'
dramaticall events with numerous scenicke
may
not astonish
my
decypherer
if
I write
my
a plaie.
If he shall discover this in th' play here
scene, th'
many
keys should next be arranged or the
differ-
ent scenes were easilie changed.
This work, like

requireth
th' following, that will

I,
soon be found,
much
of carefuU,
o' all
[ay] zealous asking at the
Throne of Life and
true
Wisedome
ere
it
may
be
undertaken, but none should goe back

t'
who
have sought
enter at a gate which doth open into an ingenious
maze
not yet folowed halfe waye to our more choice, or th' last
story of
our Court-life.*
Observe
i'
my
constant timely
Cipher aides that I have plac'd

Winter's Tale.
vig'lant watch.
th'
most of
my
play of
You' eye
will note such but
Manie words round
by keeping part of the Cypher
Timon of
Athens.
IN
have use as well.
rules to follow
at first th' best
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
For example, words I intend
o'
195
to
be
th'
and note, for

is
all
my
decipherers ayds,
that of an easily seene guiding word, or

lost
key which
shall
be your oft
but ever readie servant,

i'
coming
if
sought and alway directing you
th'
way you
should go.
Beare in minde that hee

Ariell, as airy as our
is
like Prosperous quicke spirit,
owne
off
breath, therefore your eyes
while sometimes afarre
could espie this one aydante.
Pan.
My
plan so wisely useth
Pan much more,
as
may
quickly be seen, then Nature, but do not lose eyther one

of these.
th'
With Eeputation, Honour, Fortune, Truth and

all
Art now in hand, you have

on the work.
that
you need
most
at present
to carry
However,
o' th'
o' th' rules,
keep ever watch.
Look
throw
e.
for
my
works that hidden truth

of
light.
In some
my
oldest plays
jeer,
may upon errour many wordes,

etcsetera,
g.,
men, wronges, unkinde,

act,
oaths,
in
every
would
attract too
much
attentio' therefore I have
varied the keyes using different ones for th' different

parts of th'
out.
same
storie,
yet keeping two or three through-
Most wordes signify other thinges

to
to put th' parts
which accord in position or
name
i.
a worke.
I have here no verie great field for any kinde of plaie,

or a
work most men think

a wonder.
great,
e.,
the
men who
so
filled
only
consider
If strange
thinges,
with
marvells that none read understandingly,
come
before
them,
t'
these wise seekers they seeme most worthy, but

is
commonplacenesse
shall not
to
them a
folly.
But
my
decipherer
be deprived ruthlesselie of this worke, nor I of

this shall
my
due reward when
be understood.
St.
AIiBAN.
196
(Old
is
not in hand.
Wives Tales should follow here, but original Twelfth Night commences thus with
subject.)
an incomplete
This play hatli both.
By
such a manner
much
if
of this
may be
tum'd
would
shaped
used for the other Cipher, and

to greate' matters.
attract
attentio'
many
days thereby
a
As
in
Old Wives,
word
by such mark'd and
peculiarly
perill.
letters, it
would in no waye bee in great

o'
My
keyes were form'd before one

all
my
plays was put
together and
was very well planned.
Old men might

commingling
faile to see a curious, or rather a peculiar
of letters in th' printed pages sent out, but
young eyes
see in truth
might note
it,
therefore there are
some markes emploied

would
so daring
for signes to
my
In
decypherer
so
more quickly
experiment.
explained.
and
my
^yours
no
evills
hap from
an
Historic of
Henry
th'
t'
Seventh
this is
Omit
Finis Actus. It
may add
your confusion
other Cipher
in the beginning but
you can understand
my
must have occasionally a fewe more

have moved inquiry.
myself e,
selfe.
letters.
These, hav-
ing beene us'd in your former work as you remember, will

If you inquired of anyone except
it
how
should
bring a replie?
This
is
for your-
'None but he that holdeth
my
keyes should
make
attempt to read Cyphers and one

rest not yet till
who hath
all
a key should
he hath searched out
hidden matters.
Th' wise have
do more
profitt
It
is
to
man's glory
to finde out secrets.

o'
th' fruit o'
much
labour
othe'
men and
shal
thereby then they themselves.
Thus
you reap where
we have sown if you wearie not before nightfall. When Henry th' Seventh is joyn'd with th' six stage plays first sent forth i' this name, that Cypher we now
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLaYS.
197
would fain see wrought out can be discovered.

should not bee left out.
these
This also
I have oft nam'd some works in

(i.
unimportant methods,
to
th'
e.,
th'
ways that were

ayde
th'
o'
auxiliaries
principall
one,
that
work
words
greatly) to put all

o' lesse
huntsmen
th'
off th' scent.
By
use
mark then
names, I can * give

to us.
my
decyph'rer
signes
and directions knowne but

this short
To
waye of giving
letters
necesarie aide to hasten
forwards this work, I owe th' great advancem'nt. Wherein
we could
upon
is
it
alter
your
(it
is
and give some hint
to help to
ayd you' wit

ere, in
such an excellent art)

it
we
ventur'd
It
such clear manner,
had been noted.
manifest also that you will not work in the dark long.
in sundrie wayes, our plann hath been for
it is
To you,
yeers, as
some
to
see
when
the law of
my own minde, my letters
and your quick sense doth

is
broken, and
titio's
of offence, or disregarde of th'
many repeknown law must

for setting
to the
not seeme too frequent.

right th' work.
Employ some meanes

retume
Our
letters will soon

th'
form
alter
you have used save

throughout
th' plays
two (E and G) which wee
because in th' six containing another,
th' capitall letters are us'd againe.
story
may
relate secret matters.
It
is
th' part of a
prudent writer indeed to guard against surprises.
This
you should understand, yourselfe, or asuredly you will in due time. A secret is verilie in the numerous writings
nam'd some time

done well
all that
ago, hoping then
my
hand might have
I did uptake.
Iêxt ^vrite a comedy, a quaint * device for
making
These
knowne
th'
waye, have put

*Comedy
men that do give, lend, me into possession of
sell,
or in anie othe'
their names.
of Errors.
*Midsummer
Night's Dream.
198

iis'd as
I have
disguises that
my name
might not bee seen
attached to
any poem,
day.
stage-play,
or anie of th' light
workes
o' this
The cause
choyse
o'
of this
is clear.
fiel'
]Sôt
alone for pride in our
science for a
of hard labour, but also that
I might be at liberty to use these workes as the exteriour

letter,
hiding
my
secret writings,
as
no other person
is
cogniza't of the
work save
my
foster-brother
Anthony,
my
and
owne brother Robert, Ben lonson,

assistant,
my
friend, adviser
and our private
secretary, yet for the exteriour
part
many amanuenses, for we can keepe severall employed when reading our plays for our finall review, or when assembling th' parts.
we
imploie
Th'
West.
title
of th'
comedy
is
Seven Wise
Men
of th'
Actors'
names:
George,
Eobert,
Christopher,
William,
another Eobert,
scene
is
Edmund and
hedge-priest,
Frances.
The
th'
London.
braggart,
Other name' to find parts are:

foole,
pedant,
opher.
boy, poet,
philos-
*With
and
as
these as keies
you can decypher
this, as
I said,
i'
you bring out scenes of
much
witinesse both
th'
language, and in th' gestures, actio' and situations, you

yourselfe shall bee well entertain' d, I assure you, since
is
it
as well plan'd as the
workes that have been put
out,
and
as well finish'd.
When
this
hath been intirely decypher' d, a tragedie

it,
in five acts followeth
agreeing in manie of th' keies,

It
is
because of th' names and synonyma againe used.
what every man's memory yet

of Marlow.
is
aware of
Tragedy
A
It.
servant
is
to
be added
by
whom
Marlowe's
life
was taken
Francis Archer.
the unworthie one

As
*As You Like
IN
th' joyni'g
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
th'
199
words are different from

o'
comedy, there will
be no danger
getting th' parts commingled.
Many
other keyes are
now
giv'n as followeth:
Tav-
emes, courtezan, inn-keeper, brawl, fray, dagger, wine,

moonlight,
blood,
friends,
death,
funerall.
part of
your materiall will be in tragedy of excellence * published

in this work,
and
this is to
make
search a pleasant taske.

is
But a
in his
large part of one of th' acts
from works published
name.
It needeth not to say this concerneth not

life.
Marlowe's death but his
This often gave
me
theame of sad
interest. th'
Th' remaining acts you will get in

Shakespeare
plays.
Essays and these
Th' greater part of the aforesaid
comedie
story
o'
is
in these comedies, and a large portion of this
Marlowe, in the tragedies.

is
Anothe' history
to
be decypher'd that taketh up

t'
all
Eliza would faine leave
Time's blindnesse.
strange plainnes
In
th'
play
we
give th' story some
o' th'
utter each
spirit
its
true,
hard charge, in boldnesse borne of a timoro's

in
its
made bold
sure hiding, as a timorous hare in
refuge doth brave th' harrier
no
spirit
would bee daring

which
enough to reveal in
Queene.
his work, havi'g a title leaf
doth bear his name, old, ominous, night stories of a mighty
His
life
is
would bee the
forfeit
it
mine
it
much
more
since she
it is
my
mother; yet
herein hideth, and
besides
more
vailed
by
my
is
pen-names.
told twice as
The
story o' th'
Armado
formeth
'part of our latest stage-play (of this
now
in your hand)
and part of
my
Ciphe' epics that have doubtlessly been
found. This historic formeth one in a series of five (in
Cipher)
and with eight in comedy and tragedy

Lost.
(also
Love's Labor's
200
Cipher) compleates the dramas of your twice concealed
work,
once
with
my
names and once with
my
devices.
this
As
time,
I have often said, and as you well
know by
you have poems and prose workes on divers theames
in all such various stiles as are put before th' world as
Greene's, as Shakespeare's, Burto's, as Peele's, Spenser's,

as Marlowe's, as Jonso'
dramas or
my own
long devis'd
a
and but well begun labour,

better object,
since
then
taste
which none hath
for I varied
th'
my
stile to suit different
men,
no two shew
same
and
like imagination,
and
all
doth containe
th' great
Cypher I
constantlie teach,
although I
part which
may
is
not freely place th' rules

th'
among
a great
not of
secrets
nature of most
is
histories,
but
revealeth
many
and
not afear'd to utter truth,
when
tales
a guard so
hemmeth up
th'
way dange' cannot
harie.
These true words would cost us dearly, were one of th' * so much, even, as whisper'd in some willing eare;
yet for the sake of truth, humanity,
and
justice,
yea
honour
also,
we
resolv'd to write these histories,
and thus
disguised, leave
them
for wits in th' ages
adown Time's
great rolling
rive'.
We
still
stand close at hand (our wishes should wield

th'
some power) for

workes, yet
it is
protection rightfullie ow'd to th'
to
bee desir'd that obscurity

untill
may wrap
Time may One doth
them round awhile, perchance

slip
my
th'
life of
unnoted and unregreted from
earth.
not have wild passionate desires and longings for power,
when the light from th' Eternall Throne doth fall on him, but we would leave a name and a work men must honour.
'Tis th'
hope that helped
me woo
poetry, to pursue Muses,
to
weave dramas,
to delve
deep in sciences, to pore over
philosophic.
*Two Gentelmen
of Verona.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
201
And
'tis
to posterity I looke for honor, farre
off in
time and in place, yet should
Fame sound
her sweet ton'd

is
trump before mee here and

in midst
at this time;
and there
that
wondrous dreams maketh such strong protest
against th'
th'
doom
o'
oblivion,
strike,
houre shall yet
it is made most plain to me when England shall honour me,
their ill-fated Prince,

to curse,
whom
all
the Destinies combined
and thwart each
effort to obtaine that title
Prince
o'
Wales
which was
my
stile
in truth
many
a day rightlie
my
owne.
afterwards
And
availe.
should justlie have beene

of this
all
Francis First of England,
Too
late it
are dead, our certificates destroyed

to th' English throne.
It
and yet would beenow
no words
clayme
death
that
our witnesses
to bring in a
would soone bring
my
about.
F.
BACO'.
*Any one who

letters
can read
th' plain
marks plac'd in
th'
can write
he that heedeth
o' th' rules,
my Cypher plays and th' stories; but my signes lesse, can onlie work out part
work.
suggestions in your
difficult taske
small portions of arguments, and get barely

th'
an outline of
You must therefore have my

and be watchfull,
have laboured
to
lest
minde
you have a
where I
make
straight paths for you, while other
men are led astray, reasoning in my minde in this waye: Hee who seeth th' signes must mark some significance or designe, but most men will suppose this to rest entirely
in the
marks and
will
finde nothing;
while
my
more
o'
experienced decipherer, if he have found out any

Merchant
of Venice.
my
202

soone learn th' meaning, and by th' use
saying
this, it will
directions, will
of mark'd
other
eies.
letters in
not bee expos'd to
As some
of the plaies are histories they are not alwayes

(i'
mentioned as dramas, but I will now make out a table

Cipher) naming
all
you are
to decypher.
There are
five
Histories as foUowes:
of Essex,
The Life o' Elizabeth, The life The White Kose o' Britaine, The Life and Death of Edward Third, The Life of Henry th' Sevent; five Tragedies: Mary Queene o' Scots, Robert th' Earle o' Essex, (my late brother) Robert th' Earle o' Leicester (my late father). Death o' Marlowe, Anne BuUen; three Comedies: Seven Wise Men o' th' West, Solomon th' Second, The Mouse-Trap. The kei6s and th' arguments do not follow at this
point, but are given elsewhere.
There are three notable
Epics which are from Greeke (Homer) and that Latine

(similar partly in theame) of great Yirgill;
in
and a
history,
prose
commixt with
verse,
of England and a fewe
Englishmen whose
ours.
lives in greater or lesse
degree affected
list is
given in early poemes

titles
see B. I. et csetera
with some of the
you have
so lately found.
Also a
fewe small poems in manie of our early workes of various

kinds,
which are in
life in its
th'
Erench language,
and in
is
tell a
tale of
love
when
prime of youth and strength sang

th'
sweetlie to
mine
eare,
heart-beats could one
song e'er be heard,
and yet
heard.
F.St. A.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
needeth a patient hand,
203
*As our work

decypherer
is
still
we
trust th'
not inclined to forsake these plays at present.
Our
keies for th' story of sweet Marguerite, (as
its lines
can bee found when the play that
is
many of now in your

bi-literal
hand
shall be searched) are heere repeated in

to
my
Cypher
historie
assure the finding and working out of her
which was to
me
labour of love to write, but to

lost.
my
sorrowe,
my
love was labour

is
Yet
a certaine
degree of sadnesse
desir'd
to th'
young
pleasurable,
by no means
list
to be free of the paine.
******
so
and I
This
co'taineth all the important keys as they were
used when* writing [her] history, and

it
we have
wrapt
up
in plain rule', or signes,
we
are confident this long
tale will not
seeme wearisome to you, for we would wish
you might leave out nothing of a history of one who

cannot bee banisht from
live
my memorie while
it
this heart doth
and beat, but we are aware
cannot interesse others

th'
in like degree.
To me
than
all
it
will
be
dream, day and
night, that never will be ought but a vision,
and yet
is
farre
more
reall
things
else.
When
th' history shall at length
be completed, a
written.
little
booke mention'd some time since
may be
It
is
is
French, to please Margaret, but very short and

severall small divisions.
as th' preceeding,
in
It
th'
is
writte' with th'
same keys
dange' of
but
words us'd in matching parts

is little
together were of French, so that there
making
poems.
this othe'
then
we
plann'd
book of French
then a drama,
Your next should be my Life Mary Queene of
at th'
Scots,
Court of France,
which
is
folowed
by anothe' drama.
Taming of the Shrew,
Work
out the play with th'
first style
204
before you begin the second, for they were written to
make
out
my
long
list
of th' histories.
P. B.
Âny
play publisht as Marlowe's, came from th' same
source as all which
you
will
now work
somewhat
out.
name
hath no limits or bounds,

If
it is
like Charitie.
you have written
all this
in order
a supposition very
as masks.
improbable
you
know
the
names chosen
Greene, Spense', Peele, Shakespeare, Burton, and Marley, as
you may somewhere see
it,
or, as it is
usually giv'n,
Marlowe, have thus farre been
my
masks, which have
caused no mark'd surprise because they have familia'
name' on
the
least,
th' title page,
not fancied, but of living men, at

lived.
of
men who have

also
few works
beare th'
name
th'
o'
my
use
friend,
Ben
Jonson
these are Sejanus and

and
If th'
Masques, used to cono'
ceale the Illiads chiefly,
Cypher.
work
will
be
so
my newe writings are lost no part o' my Cypher greatly injured as Homer, or my bolde,
to
make
youthfull, but worthie rendering of
it
into our language.
A
are
work of such magnitude

repeated
in principall
as th' Iliads could
not well
bee twice given in Cypher, but
many
o' th'
other writings
things,
preventing
by
this
device th' entire losse in case others shall bee destroy'd.
You
can as hath beene pointed out write Marlowe, a

o'
tragedy of great interest and
some dramatick power,

as th' tragicall
ISTot all
but not so great a work, nor so estimable

histories of
my
brother and father.
our exterior
it is
plays are of equall value as dramaticall workes, for
often difficult
if
even possible, to write manie plays that
*Merry Wives of Windsor.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
all
205
contain Cypher material!, and at

interior
times place both th'
and exteriour plays duely, giving advantages to

it
merit whether
I have said
may
appeare in one or another.

if this
But
times
what must be needlesse
work have had
faithfull service for it doth prove these

ove'.
words
many
As
this play
is
now
studied with
new
upon
rules for
it
my
are
Cypher work, I
improve.
plac'd here,
am
assured progress
may
truly
If paines be take' to see such
names
as
my
owne
as to
most
men
am known
title
doth
Bacon
of Great
earlier
plainly stand forth.
Cypher againe and againe,

Britaine and Ireland,
date, various stiles:
My
true
sheweth in
^Francis First,
King
or in playes of a
somewhat
Th' Prince; the true heire to the

t'
throne; th' Prince of Wales; th' first-born sonne

beth; Sonne to th'
Eliza-
Queene and heyre-apparent,
since
I be
was
entitl'd in justice to all these before th'
death of
Elizabeth,
consider' d
my
mother, th' virgin

rul'd with
who
was
as she wish'd to
a strong
[hand] over Eng-
land,
and me.
will
like
Her
of
all
stem
iron-hearte' kings of days o'
yore, but she was vain withal and loved th' admiration
men, especially of princely

th'
first
visitors
* coming
for
t'
wooe.
All suitors (much as
commer)
turn'd
some reason
of
had such hope of successe

mentio' being
as
some heads, no
made
of impediments,
th'
Duke
Anjou
paying the compliment of an arrangement whereby their

sonnes should receive instructio' in
faith,
Roman
Catholicke
the daughters in th' Protestant.
Such play did
well agree, su'ting Elizabeth's vain soule and nursing a
kind of pride, akin to

sadder fated mother's
Measure
for Measure.
ill-starr'd
Marguerite's, and to her

Bullen's.
faire
Anne
306
BI-LITBRAL CYPHER OP FRANCIS BACON.
Her wisedom, however, saved her

of devotion was th' surface of
in this, as th' love

characte'
[her]
not
life
a
is
main
curent.
It will be noted
deciphered, that she did inherit
when much
her whole
of th' sterne dis-
position that characterized her sire

sire,
and grandsire.
Henry,
shew'd
it
lesse,
as it
mingled with heartinesse and
fresh spirites, but as every Tudor,

tors to
one nam'd Eobert, loved
downe from our anceshis owne will .and his
owne waye, "Merry Harry," marke you, concealed some of it under a maske of good-nature. As this part may
soon be done I put
these comedies.
my
* *
word-keyes in
*
all o' th'
rest o'
With
cypher'd.
these keyes our historic of Elizabeth
is
to
be de-
If care be taken to keep th' parts separate in
writing-deske and drawers, untill the table of words that

is
us'd in bringing all these parts together shall have

th'
beene prepared, none can get astray and
work
will be
is
made
easier.
This part
it
is
o'
my
charge to you
oft
repeated since
of prime importance,
and a
prope',
constant observance of the same will greatlie facilitate

this task.
You have neede
both of patient and orderly habits to

attaine
become a good decyph'rer, and you must aim to

these if not already th' fortunate possessor of
all th' desir-
able vertues of a
Cypher
reader.
Assuredly
th'
work that
would not
we have
spent
all th'
best yeeres of life upon,
clay me too wide notice nor too great fervou'.
Some do
overhung
not fully
life at th'
know
birth
o'
th'
imminent
perill that
my
time the plays were put forth, nor
could one word of

\\Tapt upp, mixed,
faile
my
and
title
bee publisht
if
if
not
disguis'd.
Hence,
the decyphere'
me,
it
will never
be scene of anie eye save
my
owne.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
all th'
207
Xone
is
able to put
fragments of history in place

a seal'd book
if it
if
he bee uninstructed.
faithfull interpreter.
It
is
have not
my
We
place as great value
upon
dark
its
this play as
we
shall
[on] any we can

a theme soe
write, for it is our
much
in
my owne
and thus
own fathe', his life, memory that I must
needes think of
it oft,
wrongs moving strong

fury
indignation within me,

eloquence.
my
tongue and penne are fired to
And
th' scenes
do shew
th'
o' th'
heart
within them
to
th'
words burne with a

its
celestiall light, for
my
soul
it
lent
ray divine, even as I wrote.

assertions that tend to
Whosoever may question

mankinde evidences of
shew
t'
a divine thought interfusing th'

to prove
it
human minde, hath but

would not bee ready
tion,
by experiment.
He
asseo-
to cavil, or
laugh to scorn this
which I may repeate anon, that Divine aide was given

in
mee
great
my
work.
I have, at th' least, accomplished a
work
in fewe yeares,
work of such
a difiicult nature
that no one
hand could accomplish, except other than

it.
myselfe upheld or directed
This howeve' doth not
work now, to taxe your most subtile wit and penetration, and should not further
take th' time required to complete our work.
further our fame, or affect this
Two
comedies
we
hid in Ciphe', and in the
lists
nam'd,
have no more worth than
many
others but will repaie th'

tell
trouble of decyphering, for they
th'
storie
of
my
maskes which began in Th' Seven Wise

as
Men
of th' West,
you know, and have

in
as
it.
all th'
men
as th' actours that are
nam'd
nam'd
For these you

th'
will seeke keyes to the
one
Solomon
Second.
They
are
i'
th'
(Tale of Troy
&
Hiren the Fairie Greek should follow.)
*Much Ado About Nothing.
208

*
You
can
now without
difficulty write th' three
come-
dies that
were shewn you.
All
th' keies
have beene given,
and
th' stories related in so clear
and
fine a
manner
that
you have onely
to apply yourselfe
and persevere.
The
work
is
ready and doth wait your hand, as blocks of stone
that are prepared and polished for th' builder, aye, and
marked that each may be
fitted into its place.

th' parts,
This aydeth very greatly th' taske of bringing
that have beene separated, backe agayne into th' proper

relations.
skill,
If care be taken
it
should not require great

th'
nor more yeares then I have giv'n to
work.
Patience should have perfect labour in
my
devices, also
most constant and untiring perseverance, for these are

principal
vertues
in
decipherer.
And
as I
keep the
future ever in
my
plann, looking for
my
reward, not to
off,
my
times or countreymen, but to a people very far

like our
and an age not
owne, but a second golden age of
learning, so keepe your owne thoughts on a day to be,
when
all
these workes being seen of men, your fame, with

th' earth
mine, shall ring

that are
shall
still
around and eccho to
th'
Ages
Truth
farre
at
down Time's shadowie waye.

th'
come forth
your word, and lay these cerements

Master speak,
St.
aside, as Lazarus,
when he heard
arose.
ALBA'.
Do
royall brothers ever get so sad of heart as
my
dearlye loved brother, but
blood too.
wrathfull
we are kin and we are of royal Our lofty aym hopes by a new sorrow and Erinnys frighted then shewed duty how
much
there
is
to winne.
*Henry the Sixth, Part
I.
Winter's Tale.
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
as of old,
209-
Crownes must be
attended, or
night and daytime well
some wild
rout, waiting in
ambush Rapin's
th' glory
black, opportune time, without a warning steal

o' th'
land, leaving behind

i'
them meerely
desolatio'.
This
is
was narrowly averted

watcht, nor did these
England, securely as her crown
empty headed
tools
do ought but
Th'
obey a superior minde,

rebels
that of
my
brother Essex.
might do
his bidding
abilitie
meerely
of their
power or
it
and he alone did lay
that
was
th' limitt
his plann.
Had
th'
not met the overturn deserved, th' younger of
sonns would inherite ere the elder.
occur onely
when
th' rightfull, or, as
countrey, heire-apparent hath
By law this could we name him in our waived his rights. As I

but
as the
was known, not

first-borne,
as his brother onely,
Queene'&
such plots should at best naturally awaite
my
th'^
full
knowledge and consent.
But puft up thus with shew

state so
o' militarie glory,
an entrance to power (whose signes
robes, th' crowne, scepter
and
work'd
o' his in-
flam'd phantasy, as to have f arre
more valew then royal

for,
sword), openi'g with very small tap on his oute' doore, it
may
bee onelie natural 1, and easily acompted
though
not so easy to meet.

This was
much
aggravated in our mindes by some
pri-
vate assurances that had so deceyv'd us, that
we saw not
signe of danger, but trusted his word, nor imputed thos&
assurances to ought but good will, expecting right and
honest trustworthinesse of Eobert
as a gentleman^
the-
both by that royall blood that
is
our heirship, and by

o'
old-time gentle nurture he received as ward
Devereux.
In
did
fine his early
youth was lightly passed, but after ho
know
that 'twas th'
Qaeene that gave him
life,
he-
grew imperious and
("SAhen
brought to Court by our truely
310
ingenious father,
e'en a jealousy
o'
whom
some
an
evill sprite
much
troubled
o' th'
Queene's favoured lords that

its
did attend her), his will shew'd
true source, and re-
veaFd
time
it
th' origin of th'
young
life
Csesar.
And
much
in th' after
could well be discern'd that he did draw deception
from
it.
Our fountain
Ev'n
i'
o'
hath
earthie subspots,
stance.
fro' it
this royall source
were slimy
and
our blood took some

not
slighte poyson,
which assuredly
o'
could
be
accredited to th' noble daughter
Sir
lesse
Francis
KnowUes
on the parte of
young Essex, and
on the part of myselfe,
to a descendant o' honorable Sir
Anthony Cooke.
But
'twas not poyson alone that
we
took thus, nor shall succeeding violls beare one half so

great drops of black venom, for as
it
commingleth in an-
other fountain with nobler blood
it
becometh pure.
To our mother
be traced
directlie,
is th'
fearlesnesse that Essex
shewed
to
and that promptnesse of judgement in
a sudden calamity; but with sufficie't time given to deliberate, Essex, ev'n
more than
she,
would shew a variety
o'
opinions in so swift succession, you must use

to gain
much
witt
their
one hee would give his name unto.
When
t'
wills should
be matcht, 'twere no light task

Like his mother
i'
decide as
to the result.
tempo' he could break,
but nere even slightly bend, and in the most of such

trialls,
no end that most exasperating method
o'
contest
fre-
resulted in, could bee worth
much
quently accidentall then

could never long endure.
plann'd,
as it
was more
th'
^therefore
peace
Such a
golden,
flitting
sunshine
is
sometimes
th' brighte',
more
faire
more
dazzling.
Those who were of a discreete

rayes,
dissposition, bask'd in th'
and smil'd while
skies did
bend over
us,
but none knew when
th' tempest's
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
211
wrath might change our bright daye to blacke night, and

a darknesse
more
dire (said some) then Egypt's plague,
cover heaven's dome.
Essex nere did ought in a

plie
spirit of
revenge, but sim-
that hee might winne
th'
due rewards of courage or

better term such ver-
of valor, if this doth in any

tue.
manner
His nature was not small,

It
pettie, or ev'n
dwarfed in
development.
was larger in many directions then any
who now
lions a
ears.
censure and decry him, possesse.
Among
mil-
voyce like his reach'd our listening, most attentive
Wanting
is
that sound, no other
is
sweete and this
silence
a paine.
is
That hee did wrong me, now

wiped
fro' th'
to
bee forgot, and

thoughts of the
minde's recollection, in
my
evill that
hath come to us (chiefly to myselfe) by this
rebellion o' th' Earle, but th' love
and tender regard that

swaye.
marked
houres
all
our
first
sunny young days when wee were not

o'
oft to be
found out
live in
harmonic, hath
Those
very
still
my
memory, more then our
first
open and sore disputes.
But one
thing,
more even then pleasing and happy
variation of this one theame, crowds on
my
braine.
O,
Heavenly Day! illume

in the
this night of Earth, for I ain loste

o' desart.
many
turnes of this wide waste
Let light
divine shine as in Moses, his weary way,
when hee was
guided through
th' sea, across wilds
untrack'd to lands th'
people were, after tryall, given to possesse in peace, and

lead
me
to
unto
my
th'
rest.
Th' paine
memory
way,
is
of
my
part in th' tryal
hath
my
power
make
th' brightest
day grow dun.
Saving
own
life in this
paying much for that I would
indeed faine lose;
my
life
no longer seemeth fayre, save
212
as I

spend
th'
time for other's good.

raise
Th' labour of hands
and head shal better

sight,
my monument
up
to
men's
then marble
faire,
choyse ebonie, or brasse.

truely ignorant of such
th' parts th'
it
The workes I
attempts,
do,
mid rankes
of.
would seeme greater then
men
o'
my
times have
knowne
Indeed
may
th'
not winn any
belief, since it
would seem more then *
hand of but a
mortall could (by anie
manner
of working at this daye
knowne
it
to authours)
unayded and alone performe.
When
whom
is
shall beare more fruit then the penne of this truly noteall praise,
worthy youth that
or that philosopher,
few even read
to understand, the cause is clear
enough for
which
you
to acquainte all
o' th'
men
with so
much
truth,
simply use
time.
I do so emploie myselfe that the
minde doth not sooner
enter into labyrinthian turnings then

its
my
hand beginneth
your
part of th' labour.

efforts
"When you do
so completelie applie
it
your
and
attention,
you should accompte
to
owne
great 'gain, so greatly th' judicious use o' your
much
valued howres shall bring reward.
A
when
Cypher
historic is
hidden with pains herein, which

affixt
my name
doth stand thereto
can but allure
both busy publique men, and the idling, fawning, womanlike sorts that
is fill'd
even crown'd head cannot avoid.

'twill
Th' work
with events so interesting

like
sometime appeare
to
you
dreaming when, even from our workes which

that
tell th' secrets
must yet be kept from some men, seven

rightlie
distinct
and much consider'd, carefully poised and
estimed, prudent causes, at present

it is
warn our
at a
best friends
too soon to declare for their prince.
And
I some(if
times
am
in f eare that 'twill

Part
III.
come
most untimely
Henry the Sixth,
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
it
213
not post mortem) period, for
hath even
This then
now turned
is
th^
marking point
half
o' five o'
decades.
more then
century
such unsatisfied longi'g and desire for
justice.
Old men have been
laid
i'
th'
tombe and children have

'Tis
th'
become men, yet

still
i'
this matte' is in its feeble conditio'.
th'
cradle, nor
can I have great hope to see

lov'd,
maturity
of
this
dearly
long
cherisht
dreame,
since
th'
promise
it
is
I might use a sometime

me most
humane
life,
still
stronge' or truer
word
expectation.
Then,
th'
too,
sometimes
prize doth
seeme quite near
bowe
in all th' clouds

th'
doth give
course of
trust in th'
Divine Eye watching
guarding, guiding every footstep,
and sharing our manie woes.
At
times a divinity seemeth truly to carve rudely hew'd
ends into beauty, such as
God must plan when we
are
shaped in His thought, inasmuch as

see th' wh'ole of life ere
He
can, aye,
He doth,
Pisgah,
we draw
th' first
trembling breath.
This doth ayde us daily to climbe
th' hights of th'
where, crossing over, our souls do see ing desire.
land of our long-
Mark my word-key es
question, or
to unlock this play:
They
see,
are
any
is
othe'
method or forme by which

th' play.
th' in-
quiry I
make
shewn in
Shee
is
Should you
slily in,
now,
any answer lightly on

her due welcome.
sorte
tip o' toe

is th'
come
make sweete
faire little wife
th' con-
^whose assistance
think, or
truly no
way
so unnecessarie as
you must
you would look for her
at once.
Then
find Queene, th'
key for
my owne
To
it
portion of our history,
with names of royalty.

this
the words which pertain to
realm add France, for

storie
must contain
latest
in
it
one page
of
my
which some
o'
my
books cannot give.
214

Trench
stile
Paris, with
or
title
make up
th' rest,
and
th'
first tw,o acts
are prepar'd.
intitl'd
Work them
out.
* In
my
work
David, the tale that
now
is
con-
tayned in Iambi, soe arranged to preserve stately ancient

usages and formes of speech, I have hidden th' most of
th'
stone of Margaret's
life, as
any parts lent eyther gTace
to its scenes or pathetick strains to its story.

th' birth of th'
Of
ill,
necesiity,
young
son, to coste so cruell
doth have
to
last
no
sort of place within her story.
It
appertayneth
except
another story with quite simila' keies
the
named.
The most of a play in this same name (Ge. Peele's), The Arraignment o' Paris, continueth th' stories o' Margaret's
manie
affaires
du
cceur,
and being used

two separate.
also for th'

all
Hiad, must have your attentive eyes here at

select these keies
times to
and keep
th'
Kemembe'
if
the Hiad
is
often to bee found in other works and,

it
time
other
were without end,

matter
easie'
should be left untill

so
all th'
were decypher'd;
would
my
second taske be
and not
is
lesse pleasant.
It
apart,
a fine art
^this
o'
o'
keeping each
o'
these twain
nor losing
th'
rout
keyes (much like untrained
soldiers)
nor commixing
th' parts that are to
be conjoin' d,
hand:
just as stones that
forme our pallaces are

th'
skilfully joyn'd,
one by one, after

that
designe trac'd
by
th' master's
wonderfuU grace shewed
itselfe in this
before the plann was fully limn'd.

truely note that th' part he
minde ev'n Th' decypherer must

in th'
must take
work
is
that
of any labourer, th' designe being perfected yeares before

his eyes
o'
saw
th' light:
but no surer
is
honour
to the
name
th'
inventour then to the decypherer, for they must
Coriolanus.
IN
assist as
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
th'
215
though they were
braine and th' hands joyn'd

th' taske, all
in man's body; and, with
no one to ayde in
till
might remaine here unseen
th'
end
o'
time.
Therefore, I beseech you serve

shal be done, for
fame
is
nearer
me now untill th' work then men know. ISTone

labour of
who hear
hasten
shore.
of this
work could
let so curious a
yaur hand remain hid from them.

afarre,
So
as
Rumour
doth
to
your name will be heard from shore
"Now must your time out-valew gold

Jewells, dayes th' diadem, for surelie in
th'
houres
seem
o' it,
our wise use
doth our
moment
ogniz'd
appear
th' jot so
minute
'tis
seldom
rec-
precious.
This must have been,

th'
many
times over, said to you
if
whole of
this
Cipher hath been undone, yet I pray

th' divers
your patience for
wayes and
th' repetitio's used,
since not a sign doth give
me any
right to hope this

till
would
be taken up where I began, and foUow'd

story were found.
th' great
I put every direction, as hath beene
so often said, in divers of
my newe
workes.
This plann
it
will proove so clear to
your judgement, then, that
must
quiet
all
doubt of
my
taste.
Th' end shall convince

It
is,
much
more indeed then argument.

entreate
to a
work of
so secret
nature th' chiefe meanes that doth remain: therefore I
you
to bee
most
dilligent
and staye not
till
all
bee finished.
If all keys have beene mark'd and assorted,

if
the joining can proceed at once,
you note the words.

F. B.
*At
first
my
plann of Cipher work was this: to shew
secrets that could not
be publish'd openly.
This did so
well succeed that a different (not dangerous)

*Titus Andronicus.
theme was
216

it;
entrusted to
possessed
and after each was sent out a newe desire

left
me, nor
me
day or night
untill I took
up
againe
th'
work I love
so fondly.
Some
school verses
went
into one, since I did
deeme
them good
worthie
o'
preservation in
my
truly precious
casket studded thicke with houres f arre above price.
Even
my
as
translations of
Homer's two immortall poemes
as well
many more
th'
of lesse valew have a place in
my
Cypher;
and
two our most worthy Latine singer

this
left in his lan-
guage I have translated and used in

.^neid and Eclogues.
waye
Yirgill's
Onely a fewe of those I have
turned from most vigorous Latine, were put out.

th' translations as
Most
o^
I have just said, apeare

little
i'
th'
work and
must not be held of
worth, for assuredly they are
my
best and most skill'd work.

It
is
a great art to English stately Greeke verse rightly,
and if you turne it againe into prope' measure, eyther you must sacrifice th' sound or wrest the thought; and th' exact words are often wanting to voyce its wondrous language.
It
is
famed the wide earth

its
arou'd, for its lofti-
nesse of diction and
sounding numbers.
o' th'
Th' Uliads and parts
adventures of Ulyses fur-
nish our chief examples, as no Greeke poet in any
ôn
hath approacht his style or his imagination.

Yirgiirs ^neid,
Regarding
all
we must honor
it
among
Latine
poems, but
it
doth lacke Homer's incomparable, marvel-
lously witching art, strong diction, true spirit, fire of an
immortal youth.
In a play
th^ reall,
is
imitated action of heroes, in the Uliads
is
the living scene.
You
see a battaile
and hear
th*
cries o' th'
Trojans, and see th' Greekes sweepe on in
noyselesse grandeur like devouring flames:
you
feel
how
IN
SHAKESPEARE PLAYS.
217
Achilles' angry spiritt swelleth in his savage breast as
he
tri-
by umpht over
sitteth
the sea eating his heart,
and Agamemno'
the bravest, worthiest Greeke that sailed to
Hion.
In
great
this short
play you must get
poem
of which I speake.
many o' th' lines of th' You have th' keyes, if as

time as I suppose, also
manie plays bee decypher'd by
this
numerous
rules for joyning these small portions into per-
fect Iliads.
L.
VBRULA'.
KOBEET
BUKTO]N'.
ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY.
1628.
Now
as to
my
Ciphe' alphabets here, th' letters will be

It will bee
thought to be like those of other editions.
quickly noted as our work shall be followed with care, mania

subtile innovations have
issue that
it is
been made that

This made
as it
so
change each later
almost as unlike th' precedent editions as

it
another or different work.

th' Bi-literall Ciphe',
necessarie to alter
and
doth contain
it
now
a verie dif-
ferent story,
we prythee, do not passe
without giving your
attention to these Italicke letters, for a great portion of
your aids are to be found in

Studie our others by
all
my
third edition.
our early work, but those which
we put
out
now
are to bee emploi'd
when
th'
two Latine
workes are to be written.

will be used for that Latine
last; that of
All work in margine of
my
first
work and may be
left untill
the
our second and third were to aid you in bring-
ing out Homer's bookes, and

after the part
may
bee deciphered
shall be finisht.
at
once
you are engaged upon
And you
historic, to
should make
a great efforte in writing th' Ciphe'
foUowe
closelie
my
rules,
drawn out and ren-
dered most crystalline like polisht mirrours of Steele, for
my
whole work upon
this
doth teach,
t'
my
onely interprete',
something new and helpfull to

not yet written out.
th' other
important Cyphe'
lost,
Let not
218
my
work be
for
'tis
of
IN
importance to
ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY.
besides yourselfej
it.
319
many
and no
historie
may
be complete without
Indeed tke whole nationall record

a kinde, but if
must bee cbang'd by a revelation of such

I have not your aide, no eie but
my
decypherer's,
when
am
resting
from
my
labours, shall read that
which I have
Therefore
prepar'd with such great paines for posterity.
must hand and pen,

and quicke
eye,
as wel' as th' braine

effect th' rest.
and
most ready ^
it
now
I must leave
in
your wise care in future, for
my
light o' life
must ere long

dili-
be extinguisht, and again I do entreate that you be so

gent that
my
great labour for truth shall not

forth,
lie
in
embryo
longer, but
come
when
th'
time shall be accomplisht,
unto
th' day.
Study
to ayd,
not to put a straw in th' way.

is
Under much
search of
of th' outer huske
th'
kemell, worth th'

till it
many
a yeare, utterly lost to th' world
have
beene brought forth.
As hath been
telling
said,
much
his
of th' materiall of th' Iliad
may
first
be found here, as well as Homer, his second wondrous stone,

of
is
Odysseus,
worthie
adventures.
Th'
nam'd
of greater worth, beautie and interesse, alone, in
my
th'
estimation, then all
my
other work together, for
it is
crowning triumph of Homer's pen; and he outstrips
all
th' others in th' race, as
though
his wits
had beene Atabehind them,
lanta's heeles.
lêxt
we
see Virgill,
and
close
striving to attaine unto th' bights
which they mounted, do

th' plays lately publisht,
I presse on to th' lofty goale.
In
I have approacht
my
modell
closelie,
and yet
it
doth ever
seem beyond
my
attainment.
Here
are the diverse bookes, their arguments

th' lines, in
and sundry
examples of
our
Bi-literall Cipher.
220
ARGUMENT OP THE
ILIAD.
Th.'
Gfeekes maintain'd
th' city or
th' siege of
Ulion for nine yeares
without taking
winning Menelaus' Queene away

stolen her,
'tis
from Prince
full
Paris,
who had
said,
with her
and free consent, and defending

prolonged th' warre.
his
th'
mad deed
with
equall spirit,
In
meantime many
townes having beene sack'd, and the inhabitants destroi'd or

led captive into th'
campe of
th'
Greekes, both
Agamemnon
and worthie Achilles were
allotted each a beautiful maiden,
Briseis falling to the lot of Achilles,

Chriseis, th' beautifuU virgin
and unto Agamemnon,

priest,
daughter to Apollo's
is
Chryses.
In
th'
first
booke Achilles
introduced
very
angry,
as
in truth th' entire
work
is
th' storie of his anger,
may
be seene in
th' first two* verses of the
poem, which
are plac'd below:
goddesse, sing of th' destructive Avrath

fierce Achilles, Peleus'
Of
worthy sonne.
all
Nor was
his
anger easily appeased, as
learned unto
th' vaste
their sorrowe.
For
th' priest
Chryses came to
armament of Greekes, making

th' fillets of
supplication for his virgin
daughter, and bringing treasures inestimable; bearing also
Apollo on the golden scepter that he carried.

Greekes
lifted their
priest's
Then
all
th'
voyces in a great shout

lest
saying:
"DeliAêr
this
daughter
Apollo be
angTy with us; accepte
th'
ransomes
also, that th' treasures
of the warriours be increas'd."

it
However,
to
Agamemnon
caused sore displeasure, nor could priest nor people perset th'
suade him to
mayden
at libertie,
and restore her to
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
231
her father; but he dismissed th' old
man
evilly,
it
bidding
him depart
precipitatelie lest
he should abide
along
to his cost.
And
th' priest, in silence, walk'd

sea.
th' shore of the
resounding
After awhile, with
many
a prayer
and
teare, th' old
man
cried aloud unto Apollo,
and
his
voyce
was heard.
Th' god in anger sent his arrows into the Grecian campe,
killing at first onely dogs
and mules, but at
last
he aim'd
his arrowes against the Greekes, and thousands died of pestilence.
For ten
daies his cruell shafts sped
on his errands
slaine war-
of
gloomy death, and there were high heaps of

nor did the smoke of the funerall
day.
riours,
piles cease
from
and
day
to
Achilles then
summoned a
tell
councill,
charg'd Calchas, if he could
th'
cause of th' punisharmie,

that
ment
inflicted
upon
it,
the
Grecian
he
be
couragious to declare
relying upon th' protection Achilles
pledged him, should any in authoritie dislike what he must)

reveale;
whereupon he
her father,
said, it
was because that Agamem-
non had
ill-treated a priest of th' god, in refusing th'
maid
Chrisei's to
when he came
fillets,
bearing the scepter
of th' great god and his

as a
with inestimable ransomes
recompence.
altercation hotly rag'd 'twixt Achilles
Thereupon an
his
and
sent
commander, which Nestor appeas'd.

and
Agamemnon
to
Chiiseis to her father, but immediately requir'd his heralds to go to th' tent of Achilles
bring Achilles'
maid, Briseis, unto him.
Th' maid obeyed in quiet griefe,

th' sea,
but Achilles sat down by

Thetis,
and made complainte
to
old Nereus' daughter, mother to our hero.
Soe
plaintive
was
his cry, th'
nymphe
hastily left her sea-cave,

sire,
where she
flowe'
sat
by
th' side of
her
as
some blooming
to
upon
its
stalk,
and
made
effort
comfort th'
222

She promised
to
heart of proud Achilles.
goe to Olympus,
when Jove
returned from a twelve dayes' stay with th'

o'
belov'd people
th' feet of great
th'
Ethiopians, pleading for grace at
Jove, and praying that th' victorie should
bee given
to
th'
Trojan arms untill

as
th'
Greekes should
honor Achilles againe
hee deserv'd.
th' twelf e day, faire Thetis arose
Upon
from
th'
morning of
th' sea
and climb' d Olympus'
top,
where finding Jove
sitting aparte upon th' highest peake, she twined one arme
round the knees of

his chin
th' god,
put up
th' other
if eve'
hand
to lifte
and earnestly besought him,
that she
by
word or deede had given him

granted and A.chilles honour' d of
pleasure,
all th'
her request be
Greekes.
To
this
hee consented after a long delay and confirmed his promise
by
a nod.
But Juno
discover'd Thetis, and, according to her usuall
jealous manner,
was soe loud in denouncing Jove, every

affrighted.
god and goddesse was

interfering,
Then her
averted
sonne, Yulcan,
in
th'
soothed
her
and
calamitie
heafens.
II.
Jove had no
rest; sleepe
came not unto him;
all
night
he lay upon his couch of gold, devising meanes to make

his
promise good, nimph Thetis wonne from him, and
finally sent a pernicious
dream
to
Agamemnon
dream
of victories
unayded by
Achilles.
went out
Agamemnon rose, and to summon th'
putting on th' regall garments,
Grecian lords to councill and
impart his vision; but at the same time hee suggested a

plan contrary to his owne wishes, meerely to try
of th' Greekes, and propos'd to urge a
th'
temper
retume unto Argos.
lône should in truth goe away, since Ulysses should use
ARGUMENT OF THE
rmich eloquence to
depart.
ILIAD.
223
all
tume
aside or send
back
who would
Thereupon
all th'
Greekes were assembled, and
Agamemnon,
who
in
leaning upon his ancestral scepter, eloquentlie

toile,
spake of the long fruitlesse
of the wives and infants
Argos and
soe
th' farre isles of th' sea
awaited their
comming, and
th' cry,
moved them
that as one
man
they echoed
"Let us retume."
Straightway th' hosts sweepe ore th' sandy plaine, like

th' billows o' th' Icarian
is
Sea under great winds.
Th' dust
like
as th'
smoke
rising
from a furnace, and loud shouts
th'
resounding sea are heard.

to th'
them
main, and
all
Some seize th' ships to drag make ready with tumulte that
great quest,
doth reach to heaven.
Juno, fearing their abandonment
o'
th'
sent th' blue-eyed maid, Minerva, to staye them.
Descendstarre,
ing
th' heights of
proud Olympus
like
summer
Pallas swiftlie flew to th' Grecian campc, and sought out
wise Ulysses, like unto th' gods in counsel, where he stood

silent
with averted face, and laid no hand on his blacke-
hull'd ships.
Recognizing
th'
voyce of
th' goddesse, as she incited
him
to use all his wonderfull, silver-tongued eloquence to stem

th' flood o' th' flying host,
he ran forth to meete Agamem-
non and
obtain'd th' paternal scepter.
Then he
quicklie
passed through th' throng, smoothelie persuading those that
were royal or noble, while hee, rebukingly with
th' scepter
smiting th' base-borne, bade them submit unto his will
and cease
their tumult.
Soone every Greeke turn'd back
to goe once
more
to hold councill upon't, loudly murmursea.
ing and surging like th'

Finally
all
save Thersites fell into silence.
Hee
alone,
ever clamouring and delighting
much
in noisie railings and
224
scandalous revilings 'gainst prince or lord, (but most wild
and wreaklesse when proud Achilles and Ulysses were

scomfull theame, for
his
toward them
his
envy and spleene
raged ceaselessly) was upon that dale so spitefull 'gainst

Atrides,
that Ulysses,
resenting
severely,
that
dishonour to
th'
Generall, reprov'd
as a rod, smiting
him
and even used
th' scepter
him
so rudely that great weals

th'
came up
under each heavy blow, and

his backe.
bloud cours'd swiftly down
Thersites wip'd a teare away, and, submissively
restraining all further speaking, hee took th' seate th' wise
Ulysses pointed out upon th' ground.
Then
all th'
people
marvell'd and exclaim'd with wonder to see Thersites vanquish'd.
A stormy but unfruitfull,
dispute
among
th'
Princes was
begun, which Eêstor cut short by saying to them that they

spake as children, and himselfe propos'd to their cheefe
that
he divide
bade
th'
armie into
tribes,
placing kin with kin
to strengthen
and aide each

his hosts
th' other.
Whereupon Agath' tents,
memnon
make
hasty preparation for battell;
and straightway e the armie dispers'd among
and
smoke rose upward throughout

th'
th'
campe
as they prepar'd
meal.
But Atrides made a

that venerable sage,
sacred feast, offering in sacrifice

First
an ox of five yeares, strong and beautiful!.

l!êstor,
he bade
then simimoned Idomeneus

Ajaces and
th'
and Tydides, then both
th'
wise Ulysses,
but Menelaus, uninvited, follow'd.
When
they had com-
pleted thl ceremonies, Xestor bade Atrides send out their
heralds and
summon
and
th'
armie to
th' plain to
prepare th'
hosts to battell,
to
separate th' warriours
by
th'
tribes.
This was accordinglie done, and Minerva took

shield
^^gid
whose fringe was valued above hundreds of oxen.
ARGUMENT OF THE
Then she passM
rememberVl
breasts
conflict
ILIAD.
hosts
225
to
and fro amid
th'
and arranged
they
them, at the same time inciting them to

their
battell, so that
homes and conntrey no more.
Their
glowed and burned with desire and atchieve great honour.
to enter into the
That daie Jove rendered Atrides conspicuous among more, even, then his wont, moving heroes, and glorious,
midst the throng in his shining armor.
There followeth a catalogue of
th' shippes:
Peneleus, Leitus, Prothoenor, joyned with Arcesilaus
and bold Clonius, equall in arms and in command, led

Boeotia's hosts ;
and there went with them
fif tie
sable shipps.
Those whose home was upon rocky Aulis,
hillie
Eteon or
the wateiie plains of Hyrie; in Schcenos, or Scholos, Grsea

or Mycalessia; those
who came
out from Peteon, from
Harma, Heleone
ever rise; those
or Hyle, well watered
by
its
springs that
who dwelt
in loftie
Medeon and
in Ocalea;
in Haliartus or in Thespia sacred to th'
god Apollo; and
Onchestus where Neptune's temple stood; and those who

dwelt in Copae and Thisbe, fam'd for faire doves, or pastorall
Erythrse;
Glissa
where vines abound;
in
greens
Platea and divine Nysa; in Hypothebse that well-built

city,
or where Eutresis and fair Coronea rose;

or
in rich
Ame,
Anthedon upon
th' farthest
bound
o'
farre distant
Boeotia: of these each ship bore six score warriors.
After these followed the troops of Aspledon in thirty

sable shippes,
comming from
fertile
Orchomenus and
led
by the two sonnes of Astyoche, (which she brought forth

'prest
by god Mars whom she met
in th' court of Actor)
the, valiant pair,
lalmen and Ascalaphus.

Phocions led to Phrygia by bold Epis-
Then came
th'
trophus and Shedius from the faire land where th' Cephisus
236
floweth;
from Panopea and
Clirysa, isle of Phoebus;
and
from Anemoria, Daulis and farre off Pytho', or Cyparissus and Lilsea. Their fortie shippes ranged close upon the left
of th' Boeotians.
A
us;
Locrian squadron,
dwellers in Bessa, Cynos, Thron-
in Opus, Calliarus, Scarphea;
stood; or in well-wooded
th' lesser
Tarphea,
or
where fayre Augeia
^led
by Oileus
was
sonne,
Ajax, skilled in the use
o' th' spear,
full forty
vessels in
number.
lêxt
came the long haired Abantes that dwelt
in
Euboea,
in Chalcis or wel-built Eretria; or in Isteia for
her vineyards fam'd throughout th' world; and in Caristos
and in Styra; in Dion and Cerinthus.
These, led by
Elephenor, you see in fortie black keel'd shippes.

]êxt th' Athenians folow'd, led to Ilium
theus,
by Menes^
who
excelled all th' other Greekes, save Iêstor alone,
in marshalling th' hosts.
These were conjoyned with

t'
th'
troopes
from Salamis the sonne
Telamon was chosen
to
command.
Next came
from îgina,
th'
Argives from Troezene and Maseta; and
th' sea-girt isle;
and strong wall'd Tirynthia,

sitfed
vine famous Epidaurus; from Asine,
on
th' cliffs,
and
from the harbor of Hermione, led by Diomed and Euryalus

with Sthenelus, yet was Tydides chiefe.
low' d eighty shippes.
With them
fol-
And
next came
th' dwellers in Cleonse, or in
Mycenae,
and, fairest of th' faire, Corinth the BeautifuU; or in fertil
Omia, and Arsethyrea;

Helice,
in Pelene, noted for flocks; farre
or
Hyperesia;
or in
Gonoessa.
These in a
hundred shippes came with Agamemnon,

led
th' generall,
them foorth
the resplendent, for Jove did
who render him
conspicuous in glitt'ring arms.
ARGUMENT OF THE
And
next was Menelaus,
ILIAD.
227
Ms
brotlier,
who commanded
those
or in
sea.
Sparta's forces, eager to avenge beautious Helen's rape
warriors from Pharis, Brysise, rocky Lacedsemon;
who
With
dwelt in Messeis, renown' d
for silver doves:
Amyclse, Laas, Angia, (Etylos [and] Helos, by

these three score vessels sailed.
^NTestor, th'
th'
Then
aged king, with his armie came from
sandy Pylos; those that inhabit that land soe fruictfull
Amphigenia
and Arene
^where loftie
^py and little Pteleon do stand

th'
also;
Thryos, where th' Alphens watereth
meads; and famed Dorion, where bold Thamyris, boasting

that he could excell
Muses
in musick,
was made blinde

deprived
by
th'
scom'd
Muses,
who,
furious,
him
also of his beautiful voyce,
nor might hee charm again.
With him
sail'd
ninety vessels.
Th' Arcadians,
^those
whose
territory lay
under
loftie
Cylene round old ^pytus' tomb; who dwelt in Kipe, or

Stratie; in those places bordering
Tegea; in Stymphalus,
upon Parrhasia, her

ant Mantinea, were
glorious Ancseus.
lofty cliffs; in
win die Enispe or
pleasto
commanded by Agapenor, sonne
However, the countrie being neyther
large nor powerfull,* their shippes were furnish' d
by Agaacrosse
memnon.
the sea.
Of
th'
these he sent sixty to bear
them
Then
clime,
Epeans followed,
they
that inhabited
the
where Buprasium joyn'd unto Elis (confined by

as farre as th'
Hyrmina, Myrsinus,
and where
th'
famed Olenian
rock,
fleets
Alisium flowed).
In four separate
vessels.
they were divided, each containing ten
Amphim-
acus led one, Thalpius th' second, Diores th' third, and
Polyxenus
iN'ext,
th' last.
iles
those dwelling in th'
of the Echinades were
228
led
by Meges,
th'
sonne of Phyleus, a
fled
man whom Jove

With
greatly loved.
He
from
his sire to
Dulichium.
him
there were fortie sable shippes.
Eêxt
came
Ulysses, in connsell like a god.

th'
With him
and
rises,
were twelve red shippes bearing

Ithicans;
Cephalenians
those dweling
where lofty êritos
upon
whose
sides th' leafie forests
wave; or in rocky Crocylea;

isle.
in ^gilips, or Zacynthus' greene
Then one might

chalkie
see the ^tolians
from Plenron, from

and that lofty
th' sea.
Calydon,
from
rugged Pylene
Olenian rock, or pleasant sited Chalcis by
Andraemon's eldest
Thoas, brave and valiant
These
^led,
be-
cause the sonnes of old OEneus were dead, (and (Eneus as

well).
With
these
went
fortie sable vessels.
Close
by them may you
see
Idomeneus leading
th'
Cretans, aided in the
command by
Meriones, equal to Mars,
that in four score sable shipps
came from Gnossus, Lyctus

Lycastus
faire,
citties
and
Gortyna,
from Rhytium, Miletus,
Phsestus by the silver Jardan
from
a hundred
Crete fumisht a mighty force.
From
Isle
Rhodes valiant Tlepolemus, Hercules' sonne,

Those dwelling in fayrest lalysus,
led nine fleet shippes.
in Lindus,
with
those
from Camirus.
For Tlepolemus
from
farre
grew up
to
manhood
in th' court of his uncle, whither his
owne
captive mother, Astyochea, was carried

Selleis; straightway,
Ephyra, by the flowing
however, he
having slain his olde uncle, Licymnius,

anger of his kinsmen, and gathering
bold adventurous
spirrit,
fled to escape th'
many
that were
o'
hee hasten'd (laboring both daye
and nights) building
his
rude
fleet to sail ore
the deepe.
And
after
many wanderings and

th'
misadventures, hee came
unto Rhodes and possess'd
land; where, dividing his
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
229
followers into three tribes over which he ruled, he prosperM

greatly,
Jove himselfe sending downe golden
gifts.
Xext came Nireus, whom th' nymph Aglsea bore to bold Charopus. He was the fairest of all th' Greekes who came
to Ilion (excepting th^
sonne of Thetis) but his troops were
few and weake.
Next came
thirty vessels
from
th'
lies of Calydnse,
from Casos, Nisyrus, Cos
(th' citty of
Eurypylus),
led on
by Antiphus and brave Phidippus.
Then
fifty
strong shippes,
o'
^from
Argos, Alos, sweet
Hella, where are the fayrest
women; th' vales of Phthia; from Trachyn and Alope, were commanded by Achilles. Now hee sitteth by the blacke shippes and will not come
to the field,
because of Briseis, the maiden
whom
hee
brought captive from Thebes after the wall was thrown
downe and he had taken

Evenus.
th' citty
and
slain th' sonnes of
Xext came
th'
youths of Phylace, from sheep-producing
Itona; from grassie Ptelium; from flow'ry Pyrrhasus or
Antrium, where
th'
caves are num'rous in

th' cold
those
hills.
These Protesilaus led not now, for

covered him, and his wife
pallace.
is left
blacke ground
alone in his unfinished
Hee was
to th' shore
th'
first
of th'
Greekes who boldlie
sprang
when Troy was

o'
reach'd,
and
fell
beneath
a Phrygian lance.
Now his bones lie farre from his belov'd

Iphiclus, his brother Podarces, doth
lost leader.
;
home, and the sonne
assume command but they mourne their

fleet
Their
numbered
forty sable shippes.
Those that dwelt in Glaphyra,

with high
hills
where
lieth
Lake Boebe
surounded, and Phsere and lolcus stand,
with eleven sable shippes, were led by brave Eumelus,
sonne of Alceste,
who
in beauty farre excell'd all others
among
Pelias' race.
230

All
those
who from Methone came,

th'
or farre distant
rise;
Thaumacia, where
Melibcea
rock of Olizon doth
from grassy
Philoctetes,
and
Pella,
were
commanded by
made up
faire
greatly fam'd for skill with th' bo we.
Fifty strong rowers

his little fleet)
manned each blacke

fighting with bowes
shippe, (sev'n
made
of
eugh and barbed arrowes.

Rhene, led them
a most banefull
Isle;
Medon, sonne of Oileus, borne by

to Ilion, because bold Philoctetes,
whom
hydra had
bitten, lay
groaning in Lemnos
but the
Grecian army shall yet desire him, and their wish shall
be fuimrd.
Th' QEchalians
who enjoyed two

from
th'
leaders,
those divine
physitians, th' sonnes of
^sculapius nam'd Podalirius and

land
Machaon,
reigned,
shippes.
came
where
Eurytus
once
from tower' d Tricca or Ithome's
rocks, in thirty
Next Eurypylus
bands in forty
led
th'
Ormenian and
th'
th'
Asterian
vessels,
from
land where Titan hideth in

silver founts of faire
snows his hoarie head, or where the
Hyperia
flow.
Then
Elone,
Polypoetes led forth th' troops of Argissa and

that
they
dwelt
or
beneath
or
Olympus' benignant
the
shadowe;
Gyrtone,
Orthe,
chalky
cliffs
of
Oloosson, Leonteus, with Pirithous' sonne, (that Hippo-
dame bore when
th'
Centaurs were driven
fro'
Pelion)
Polypoetes, joyned in th'
commande.
Then came
twenty shippes.
th'
Perrhsebians and th' Enians in two-and-
These Gyneus led from Cyphus, from cold

its
Dodona's sacred wood, or where the Titaresius poured
black water over the Peneus; but they float on his surface
nor mingle with that silverlike flood at anie time because

black Styx, oath of immortall gods, sent them forth.
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
231
Last unde' swift-footed Prothoiis (Teuthredon's seede)

stood the
Magnesians,
who dwelt beneath
pine-crown'
his
Pelion;
or where flower deckt
Peneus roU'd
waters
through Tempe's vale; or in that farre-reaching snrounding country.
Forty shippes composed their
fleet.
Th' inquiry
swiftest
"Which hero was

is
bravest,
and whose
th'
steeds?''
answer'd
thus:
Eumelus' mares of
Pheres deriv'd, bred near Pierian founts and by Apollo

train'd, equall in their height like in colour, as th'
(by level
o' th'
plumb-line),
wind
in speede, like every
waye: they
thuuder'd ore
to th'
th' plain
through Trojan ranks, bearing death
Troyans and
all o' their allies.
None can
th'
ev'n hope
to escape
who
fall
beneath their hooves and are crush'd
under their chariot wheels.
Among
warriours
to
Ajax
Hion,
was
th' worthiest.
Of
all
the G-reekes
who came
none equall'd Achilles while that hero was among
th' hosts
upon the
the
field of battaile,
but hee sat alone by his ship's
side brooding angrilie over Briseis' losse nor

field.
would he enter
His Myrmidons practiced at archerie, or threw
th' javelin or quoits,
and the steeds by the unus'd chariots

campe, longed for their leader,
fed upon lotus, wilde parsley, et csetera, while their chief es,
wandering through
th'
neythe' did they ayde in th' battell.
They swept on like to earthrdevouring fire and beneath them th' ground shook; (when Jove smiteth th' earth in Arimse by Typhoeus, where it is said Typhoeus' tomb is
found, even thus doth the ground tremble and shake;) and
verie swiftlie they rushed along th' plaine.
But Jove
th' gates of
sent Iris as a messenger to th' Trojans,
whom
at
she found sitting in councill, both olde
men and young
Troy; and likening herself e to Priam's sonne

relying on th' swiftnesse of his feete, sat at
Polites,
who
232
watcli
upon the tomb
o'
^sjetus, observing every move-
ment
of th' Greeks that bee
might
wame
migbtie Troy
of danger, standing in tbeir midst, (liken'd to Polites,) Iris

addressed tbem, saying:
"Wby
number
shore.
is
sit
ye talking idly at
tb' gates?
Prepare your-
selves for battaile for tb'
Greekes are close at band, in
as tb' leaves of tb' forest or tb' sands
upon
tb'
it
]êver such an host have I yet seene.
Hector,
you I would speake: hasten to arme Troyes boldest warriours and her allies, and let every chiefe command
to
those
o'
his
owne
countrie, for
many and
diverse are tb'

citizens."
nations and language, but do
you lead forth Troies
Then
Like
a
all th'
Trojans rusht to arms.
Hector knowing
well tb' voyce of tb' goddesse obey'd all tb' commands.

floode-tide
they
poured
tribes,
forth
from
tb'
gates,
gathering
by nations and by
all
round that
loftie
mound
in the plain,
men
call'd Batiea,
but by immortalls
known
as old Myrinna's tombe.
Then
did appeare tb' waving

all
plume on Hector's
crest,
higher then
those of his fellowes, as bee led forth tb'

tb'
vaHant sonnes of Troy, for bee was
mightiest of the
beroicke sonnes sprung from old Priam.
The
bore
Ida.
leader of the valiants allies half divine in bis
from Dardania was

Fayre Yenus
brave ^neas,
origin.
him
to Anchises
(who was but a mortall) upon Mount
Joyned with him in
command
are Antenor's sonnes,
Archilochus and Acamas,
skill'd in all
kinds of derring-do.
came Pandarus, sonne to Lycaon, to whom Apollo gave tb' silver bowe and well pointed shafts that he bore. All these dwelt 'neath sacred Mount Ida, and
Prom
Zeleia
drank ^sepus' dark waters.
Those who dwelt under
tb'
brow of
that loftie bight
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
233
Tereia, or in towered Adrestse, faire Pityea or Apeesus,
were led forth by Adrastus and Amphius, sonnes of Percosian
Merops, who being a prophet had foretold each

fate of death urg'd
doom; but a
them
to their destruction.
Asius, Hyrtacus' valiant sonne,

in th' plains of Percote
led those
who dwelt
by
silve'
flowing Practius; or those
faire twins of Hellespontus
Sestos
and lovely Abydos; in
strong- waird Arisbe,
by flowing
Selleis.
The Pelasgians (much skilled in th' use of th' who inhabited fertile Larissa, were led by th'
and bold Pylseus.
spear),
valiant
sonnes of Lethus, from god Mars descended, Hippothoiis
Next bleak Thracia, near

her warriours, led by bold
th'
Hellespontus, sent forth

Piroiis.
Acamus and brave
Oeas,
Then th' sonne Euphemus, a
to
mighty Troezenus, grandsonne
to
warlike host led forth from Cicone.
And
Pyrsechmes led the Paeonians, who were skilPd
in th' use of th' thong-fastened, long darts. in distant
These dwelt
his banks.
Amidon, where
th'
Axius overfloweth
Th' Paphlagonians,
from
that mule-raising Eneti and
Erythine's rockie heights; from greene Cytora, lofty Sesa-
mus; from ^gialus and Cromna, or

banks,
fast
by Parthenius'
these were
th'
commanded by powerfull Pylaemenes.

of Halizonia, rich in silver
Then from
ores,
famed mines
came a brave bande under Hodius and Epistrophus.

led Mysia's valiant host, aided
skill
Next Chromis
by
th'
augur Ennomus; but
in this art avail'd not to pre-
vent his death, for he, with a number of others, perishM
by
th'
sword of Achilles at
th' river.
Then Phorcys and

riours
god-like Ascanius led forth th' waralso
from Ascania, (who were
called
Phrygians)
eagerly desiring warre.
234

Following these came the Mseonians,
and Antiphiis
did
^bome by Lake
whom
Mesthles
Gjgsea to Talsemseneus
command.
These dwelt beneath Mount Tmolus.

that dwelt in Pethiri, in
The Caiians
built Miletus,
Mycale or
well-
were led by Pastes and Amphimachus, the
sonnes of Iômion,
who
foolish
went
to battaile deckt forth

this avert bitter death,,
like a girl in glittering gold,
nor did
th'
for hee fell at th'
hand of
sonne of
âcus and
his-
body
fell into
the rive'; yet did swift Achilles taking

it as
his.
armor possesse
a trophie.
Sarpedon joyn'd with Glaucus, the valiant, commanded

those that dwelt where the eddiing
Xanthus flowed through
Lycia af arre.
III.
When
array, th'
therefore
they
were well order' d in

th' foe
battaile
Troyans rusht to meet
with tumult and
noyse, such as cranes

streams,
make
in Asian fields
by
th'
water
when
th' intolerable
winter
is
over,
and
flight to
other climes
is
arranged, to bear death
and
evill to th'
"Pygmean men; but the Greekes, breathing might, swept

onward in
silence, desiring to assist
each other.
Then
to
as a
thicke mist on th' mountain toppes, evill
the shepheards, but to th'
robber better farre then
night,
so thicke that one
can see but a stones-throwe,
thus did th'
dust arise
th'
above their heads, so swiftly did
they sweepe on ove'
sandy plaine.
th'
When
however having quickly crossed the plain
armies were oppos'd to one another, Alexander advanc'd

before the Troyans, bearing on his shoulders a panther's
hide and a bended bowe, and wearing a sword, while in his
hands hee brandisht two brasse-tipt spears, challenging
ARGUMENT OF THE
whoever was
single combat.
th' bravest of
th'
ILIAD.
to
235
Greekes
meet him in
Then Menelans
rejoyc'd, (as a lion that doth finde
an
huge wild goate or homed stag which, though pursued
by hunters and hounds, hee greedily devoureth) thinking to be aveng'd upon th^ guilty wretch, and straightway with
his
arms he leapt
to th' ground.
Then
godlike Alexander turn'd
white with palsying

side, seeing in th'
feare; and, as one
upon
th'
mountayn
thicket a glitt'ring serpent, affrighted yieldeth place
and
a great trembling doth take hold upon him, so Alexander,

appall'd before Atrides, shrank back againe to the mightie
hosts of th' Troyans.
But when Hector saw

thus:
this
he violently upbraided him
"Thou woman
seducer,
would that thou had never
beene brought into

isht.
light, or that
unwedded thou had
per-
As thou hast a noble forme, the long-haired Achseans may laugh at this, for doubtlesslie they suppos'd thee brave, when thou hast neithe' heart nor anie nerve, but
art indeed onely a disgrace to thy father, to
also
thy
city,
and
to
thyseKe.
If thou had onely awaited Menelaus,
thou shouldst know indeed
how
brave a
man
is
hee whose
wedded wife thou

th' evils that
dost possesse.
Troyan men,
forsooth, are
pusillanimous, else should they stone thee on accompte of
thou hast done."

replied thus:
But Alexander
unjust,
"Since thy reproof

spirit is indubitate
is
not
my
brother,
whose
(for as
the ax cleaveth
wood when driven by vigorous blowes, and

ever mighty in
doth also increase greatly th' strength of th' arme that doth
wield
it,
even so thy dauntlesse heart

it is
is
thy breast), and

suffer,
on
my
accompt that
so
many
Trojans
commande
that both the Achseans
and Trojans be
336

on
this side
seated,
and
that,
and in
th'
midst will
contend
with Atrides; and hee that shall bee victorious shall possesse
both the
woman and
th'
the treasure."
Thereupon, holding in his right hand a mightie speare,
Hector advanced before

beholdi'g him,
Trojan
darts
lines;
and the Argives,

to hurle at
made ready
this,
and stones
him.
ing:
But seeing
Agamemnon
all
restrained
them
say-
"Withhold, ye Argives, and
ye othe' mightie waris
riours!
See ye not helm-tossing Hector
come
to propose
something?"
Whereupon Hector made

neare.
his pui'pose
knowne, and
all
rejoyc'd because they thought th' end of th' warre was
Then Menelaus
doth concerne
said:
"O magnanimous Agamemnon,

this
all
and ye valiant Achaeans and Trojans, hear me, for
me
above
others:
let this
be done as
Hector hath
come,
it is
said,
and to whichsoever the fate of death may
well;
and hee that hath the

th' rewards.
victorie over th'

this bee
other, let
him receyve
But before
done, separate th' Achaeans and th' Trojans, and let lambs
bee brought
a white one
and a blacke
also
for the Earth

th' shippes
and
to
th'
Sunne, and do you
send a herald to
bring one which shall be offer'd unto Jove.

that hee
Further-
more do ye bring the might of Priam,

old
may make
and
this league, for all his sonnes are faithlesse,
and where an
is
man
is,
there
is
wisedom
there also
justice
truth; for an old

his
man
looketh both forward and backe, and

it
judgement
is
just as
concemeth each party."

to the f oote,
Then
and
th' horse
was sodainlie reined backe
th' warriours,
dismounting, threw their armes on th'
ground and
sat
downe.
sent forth
But Hector straightway
two heralds
to bring
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
237
the lambs and to take th' message to Priam.
Nor
for
did
Atrides disregard
th'
command
of his
brother,
he
immediately dispatched Talthybius
to th' shippes for th^
lamb, to offer unto Jove; and hee did not disobey Atrides.
Then
Iris
hastening to seeke Helen, likened herselfe to

o'
Laodice fayrest daughter

caon, Antenor's sonne.
beautifull
Priam, the wife of King Helishe found her,

of
And
many
weaving
rich
web
for mantles,
it
double
tissue,
and
resplendent, and on
labours of the horse-training
Troyans and of
th'
well-greaved
Greekes,
that on her
accompte they endured,
and thus
addrest her:
"Come
ans,
see the mightie deeds of th' horse- training Troyth'
with
lie
brazen-mayl'd Greekes, in
th'
th' warre.
Their
ceased,
armes
upon
ground, and conflict hath
now
to
for Mars-beloved
in th' midst,
Menelaus and Alexander are
contend
and thou
shalt bee call'd th' dear wife of
him
who doth conquer."

Thus did the goddesse
see
fill
her minde with a desire to

to returne to her
Menelaus and her kindred, and

Letting
fall
former
home.
a tende'
tear,
she hastily enveloped
herselfe in white robes,
and with two mayds, CEthra and
large-eyed Clymene, rusht forth to th' Scsean gates where

sate
Priam and
Panthoiis, Thymaetes and Lampus, Clytius

(offspring
and Hicetaon
of
Mars)
with
Ucalegon and
Anthenor, once mighty warriours but long since unable for

the field because of old age: however, they were good in
oratory, like unto the Cicada? of th' woods, having
good
voyces.
When
it
therefore these looking
up beheld
faire
Helen
^Î
approaching, they spake hurriedly in low tones:
hold
noe indignity that Trojans and Greekes spend soe
much
labour, loose soe
many
lives for
Helen's sake,
so faire a
238

For her was
this
ladle's sake.
[warre] well undertaken,

all this
worthely prolonged.
Yet, althougli
bee true, and
though she bee a

stature, as if she
woman
of such excellent feature and

let
were a goddesse,
her retume in the
shippes, lest she be
more grievous
to us,
and a perpetuall
disgrace to ourselves
and our children."

to
But Priam calFd her
him
saying:
"Come
here, dear
daughter, and sitting here beside me, thou maist looke upon
thy former spouse, and on thy kinsmen and friends.

canst doubtlesse
Thou
name
for
me
this tall hero.
So gracefull
is,
and so venerable have I neve' yet seene, and he

a very kingly man."
,
indeede,
Helen, most divine of women, answer'd:
"Belov'd and
revered father-in-law, I would that an evill death had pleas'
me, when I came here with thine eage' sonne, leaving
my
home and
countrie,
my
brothers,
my
belov'd daughte', and

a fate
my
companions equall in rank.
But such
was not
will I
mine:
I therefore pine away with weeping.

for thee this hero.
It
is
Yet
name
Agamemnon,
as a
Atreus' sonne,
great both as a
mighty warriour and
good king.
More-
over he was brother-in-law of shameless me, if ever indeede
such things were."
Then Priam answered,
still
admiring Agamemnon:
"O happie
prince, most fortunate in thy birth, truely
manie
Achaean youths are under thy
command.
When
I came
into Phrygia, and beheld th' forces of Otreus
and god-like
Mygdon, by the Sangarius standing beside their horses, going out against those man-opposing Amazons (for I was
an
ally in that warre) a
number almost numberlesse seemed

they, as these
that host; but not so
numerous were even
Greekes."
ARGUMENT OF THE
Kext perceaving
ILIAD.
239
Ulysses, the old
man
said:
"Now
name this hero, my dear daughter, whose arms lie on th' ôund, while, as a thick-fleec'd aries 'midst th' flocke of
snowy sheepe, he windeth in and out among the
I^sTot
troopes.
so tall
is
hee as Atrides, but broader in shoulder.
indeed would say that hee was like such a ram."
And Helen, sprung from heaven-ruling Jove, replied: "Now this againe is Laertes' sonne, scheming Ulysses, from
rugged Ithica, verie subtile in reason, like unto the gods
in counsell."
To her Anthenor
for long ago he
said:
"Very true
is
thy word,
lady,
came in companie with most noble Menelaus,

in
Mars-belov'd, on an embassage concerning thee unto Troy;
and I entertayn'd them

with
th'
genius of both.
my palace and became acquainted When they mingled with th'

th'
Trojans, Menelaus, indeed, overtopt him, being taller; but

sitting,
hee was more majesticke, for he was broader in
shoulders.
But when they commenced
to
harangue the
assembly, Menelaus spake with ease and volubly, as hee
was the younger; but Ulysses, looking on
th'
ground, stood
with his heavy scepter in his motionlesse hand, and appeared

both unskilfull in his outward actions and devoid of reason.
But when hee began

fell
to speake,
and words
like
wintry flakes
at th' appear-
from
his lippes,
we marvail'd noe longer
ance of Ulysses but at his words."
Then having beheld Ajax,

is
th' old
man
asked:
"Who
th'
this other
Achaean hero in
th' host,
taller
by
head
and broad shoulders, thou

panions?"
seest,
then anie of his com-
And Helen
other side,
answer'd:
"This then
is
Ajax, the bulwarke
of th' Achseans, very
mighty in
battaile:
and over on the
among
the Cretans, standeth Idomeneus, like
240

round about him stand the many leaders of
to a god, wldle
the Cretans.
Often have I seen him formerly in pleasant
sea-waird Lacedaemon,
when
in our palace Mars-beloved
Menelaus entertained him cormning from Greet.

valiant heroes,
leaders
But two
of th' people, I see not,
trayning Castor, and Pollux, skilled in boxing,

ers,
my
horse-
broth-
whom my mother
at a single birth
brought forth with

in
me.
Eyther they have not followed from Lacedsemon
the sea-traversing vessells, or having come, they enter not

into the warre because of th' disgraces that
hang over
me.'^
But already
Within the
goblets
th' fruitful! earth possessed
them
in farre
distant Lacedaemon, yet of this she
was ignorant.
brought two golden
citty th' herald Idseus
and
th' wine, the
pledge of the gods; and standing
by Priam
said to
him:
th' horse-tray ning Trojans,
"The chiefes of
and of
th'
brazen-mayl'd Greekes, send for thee that thou thy self e
maist strike the league betweene them.
Por Alexander
is
about
to fight
with Menelaus, beloved of Mars; and

treasure should attend
th'
woman
and
th'
with
all th'
upon
th' con-
querour, but the other Trojans should dwell in fertile Troy,
Greekes retume
to pastorall
Argos, and Achaia,
fam'd because of
many
fayre dames."
Thus he
spake, and th' old
man
shuddered; but he order'd
his chariot quickly to bee prepared,

:
then mounting
hastilie,
drew backe the reines but Anthenor tooke place beside him,
and very swiftly did they passe over the plaine, and come
betweene Trojans and Greekes.
Whereupon Agamemnon
uprose, with Ulysses also, and
the heralds brought forth the pledges of the gods.
Then
Atrides drew th' dagger at his side, cut off the haire from
the foreheads of th' lambs, distributed
it
'mongst them
all,
ARGUMENT OF THE
and stretching forth
his
ILIAD.
241
hands to Jove thus prayed aloud:

earth, rivers,
"Most mighty Jove, and sunne,

belowe punishing the soules
that have
faithfull
o'
and those
men who
are deceased
swome
league.
let
falsely
If,
beare
th'
let
they
all
witnesse to preserve the
on
one hand, Alexander slay
Menelaus,
him from thenceforth retayne Helen and

possesse;
which she did

sea-traversing
and
If,
the Argives retume in the
shippes.
shall
on the other hande, golden-
haired Menelaus
conquer Alexande', then shall the

all
Trojans delive' Hellen and

also
her treasure, and they shall
pay a
fine such as
all posterity.
may
seeme
if,
just,
which may bee
approved of
der's fall,
fine,
But
in th' event of Alexan-
Priam or the sonnes of Priam

end of the warre."
refuse to paie the
then shall I fight on accompte of
th' fine,
and remaine
untill I find th'
With
from
these words
Agamemnon
cut the throats of the
lambs, bending back their necks; also they poured out wine
th' goblets,
and some one of the Greekes or Trojans
praied aloud thus:
"O
Jove, most mighty, most glorious, and
all
ye othe'
immortall gods, ratify this league; and should anie man,
Greeke or Trojan, violate his oath,

wine, be poured out,
possessed
may
his bloud, like this his
and grant that
wife
may
be
by other men."
th' praiers offer'd,
Thus were
but
th'
sonne of Satume
would not heede.

"I cannot
Then Priam
spake:
by anie meanes endure, ye Trojans, and ye
silver-greaved Greekes, to behold the conflict betweene
my
all
dear sonne and Mars-beloved Menelaus, therefore will I
retume
to windie Troy; for surely th'

to
immortal gods
knowe
whom
th' fate of
gloomy death hath now beene-
ordained."
243
Thereupon lie ascended his chariot, and beside him Anthenor mounted, and they returned to Illium, bearing
the lambes.
Then
But
th'
god-like Hecto'
and wise counseling Ulysses

and measured
off the
cast
the lots into a brazen helmet,
ground.
people supplicated the gods, stretching forth their
hands, and thus some one of th' Greekes or Trojans prayed:
"0
father Jove, most glorious, most mighty, grant that

ills
whichever hath caused the

realme of Pluto, but
the faithfull league."
we
suffer,
may
enter the
let the rest of
us dwell in safety under
Thus they
leaped out.
spake,
but helm-agitating Hector, looking

th' lot of Paris
backward, shook the helmet, and quickly
Thereupon divine Alexande',
th'
husband of goldeneFirst,
lock'd Helen, prepared himselfe for th' combate.
putting on his beautifuU greaves, he fasten'd them with th'

silve' claspes;
then round his brest buckled

it fitted
th' corslet of
his brothe'
Lycaon, for
him: next he threw
his
brazen sword, studded with

sie shield,
silver,
together with the mas-
over his shoulder and grasp'd his doughty speare
by
th'
middle.
Soe likewise did Menelaus arme, and they
immediately advanced toward each othe'
from eyther
side
of th' throne into th' prescrib'd space, where they for a
season stood glowering, and menacing each other so sorely

that
all
th'
Greekes and Trojans were amaz'd.
Then
and
it
Alexander
first
threw
th'
long-shadow'd
it
speare,
struck th' shield of Atrides but

brasse: the point
pierc'd not th' strong

th'
however was turn'd by

also
force of th'
to
blow.
Thereupon Atrides
made ready
hurl his
speare, thus supplicating Jove:
ARGUMENT OP THE
"O
ILIAD.
father Jove, hear this supplication.
Grant that I
soe avenge th' injury done unto me, that to future gen-
erations
toward
may warn men not to use treacherous dealings one who hath made them guests, enteftayning them
it
hospitably."
So praying hee hurl'd
his speare;
and that impetuous
weapon going through

corslet
th'
equal shield, pierc'd through his
and the
soft tunicke
beneath to his tender thigh:
but hee bending sidewise avoided bitter death.
Th' Sonne of Atreus then drew his

sword, and smote Alexander
so violently, that,
richlie
ornamented
helmet
it fell
upon
th' crest of his
broken into three or foure pieces,
on
th'
ground.
And
the sonne of Atreus groaned aloud,
looking toward Olympus, and cried:
"O
balefull Jove,
none
is
like unto thee.

o'
Ev'n
th'
as I
thought to be avenged upon Paris, because

deedes hee hath done unto me, behold
wicked
my
speare hath sped

is
from
my
hand in vaine,
my
strong sword
broken in
pieces,
and I have done him no injurie."
Then rushing upon Alexander, he caught hold upon

th' horsehair tuft th'
if
on his helmet, and throwing him upon
ground, would have swiftly drawne him to the Greekes
Yenus had not seene

(made from
it,
who broke
skin
for Paris the oxhide
[band]
th'
of a
roughlie slaughter'
animall), and left th' emptie helmet in his hand.
This
th'
Atrides hurl'd to his companions 'mid th' ranks of

Greekes,
who
taking
it
up rejoyc'd
greatly,
and ranne
for-
ward
to seize him.
him with a
cloud, carried
th'
But Yenus rescued him, overshadowing him to Troy, and gentlie set
perfum'd chamber.
him down within
Th' goddesse then went in search of Helen, and finding

her amid manie dames upon
th'
tower, liken'd herselfe
244

an ancient dame, a spinner of wool, that she had long
to
ago known.
The
old
woman had
often spun th' fine wool
when
her.
she dwelt in pleasant Lacedaemon, and Helen loved
Therefore like this dame, fayre Yenus standeth
at
her side and thus accosteth her:
"Helen, come hither quickly, for Alexander
is
in
his
turned bed within his perfumed chamber, shining in beauty
and attyre; nor wouldst thou say hee was come immediately
from combate with a hero, but about

or that having just returned
to enter th' dance;
from the dance, he doth take
repose."
But Helen saw the white neck,

whereupon in vext tones she
said:
beautifull bosome, and
bright eyes flashing above her, and recognized th' goddesse
"Cruell Yenus, what wouldst thou that I should
now
be
doe?
Belike thou wouldst have
me
go yet farther into
Phrygia, or into pleasant Mseonia, where there

citties
may
inhabited
is
by men
that are also deare to thee.
Or
indeed
it
that Menelaus having conquer'd Alexande',
would faine bring hated
me home,
th'
a reproach to Trojan
th'
women evermoe?
fairs
Go, leave
path of
gods upon
Olympus;
sit
beside him, so
may
he choose thee for
a consort, or
alas, shall
make
thee a
handmayde unto him.
But
I,
have woes unto
my
soule."
hastily
replied,
With
these words th' goddesse
being
incensed against her:
"Wretch, provoke
me
not, least I
may
and
hate as heretoleast I
th'
fore I have so wondrously loved thee,
might,
abandoning thee, cause hatred
to be rife
among
Trojans
and
th'
Greekes.
th'
Then
would an evil fate overtake thee."
Thus
goddesse spake: while Jove-descended Helen,
wrapping her long white robes about her, went downe
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
245
unnoted by the Trojan dames, because the goddesse led

the
waye.
And when
they were
part,
come
into
th'
lofty
palace, th' maydes,

to
on their
turning aside return'

to her high arch'd
their tasks;
but Helen ascended
chamber: and the goddesse plac'd a seate for her opposite

Alexander:
there divine Hellen,
sat,
th'
daughter of ^gis
bearing Jove,
thus
:
averting
her eyes,
and addrest him
'Thou
band,
art
come from the by

th'
field:
would that thou had

call'd hus-
perisht there, slaine
hand of him I once
Menelaus
o'
that brave hero.
I recall that frequentlie
have I known
age, strength,
thy boasting of thy superioritie in courth' speare.
and handling
Challenge Marsadvise thee to
beloved Menelaus againe!

refraine
But I would
least
from combate henceforth,
thou bee subdued
by
th' speare
of faire-haired Menelaus."
But
reproach
th'
Sonne of Priam answering said:

not,
''"Woman,
evill
me
nor agitate
my soule
with thy
words.
By
also
th'
ayde of Minerva now indeed hath Menelaus con-
quer'd; but I in turn shall vanquish him, since th' gods are
with
us.
But come,
let
us delight in dalliance, for
now doth sweet love fill my thoughts, even more then when I first brought thee away from pleasant Lacedaemon, when in th' island of Cranae wee were mingl'd in love.
Come
let iis recline
upon our couch."

his perforated couch,
Thereupon he ascended
and Helen
followM with him, and they repos'd together.
Meanwhile Menelaus was raging up and downe among

th'
Trojans like some savage beast, seeking Alexander.

th'
But not one of
Trojans could reveale his place of
hiding; for none of
them would have ayded him, because
346
they hated
him
like sable death.
Whereupon King Atrides
thus addressed them:
"Th' victorie appeareth indeede as belonging to Menelaus, therefore shall
ye deliver Helen and her treasure,
and paie
all
th' suitable fine
which
shall be
remembered by
our posterity."
And
all
the other Greekes approved.
IV.
All the synod of

floor
th'
gods was seated on the golden

^Nectar,
with Jove.
In the midst, pouring out
Hebe,
the venerable goddesse, went to and fro; and they pledg'd
each othe',
drinking out of the goldene

th'
cups,
looking
toward the citty of
Trojans.
Jove meanwhile was
incensing Juno, speaki'g with bittemesse thus:
"Two
goddesses, indeede, favour Menelaus, Argive

o'
Juno
apart
with Minerva
Alalcomenae.
Yet both these
sit
looking on, while laughter-loving

th'
othe',
consulte
Yenus even now rescued him with a cloud. But come, let us whether wee will renew th' conflict, or promote
covering
th' friendship
between both these
parties;
for th' victory
belongeth to Menelaus as the matter doth
now
rest."
But Juno was very angrie and thus addressed him:

^'Balefull Jove,
sonne of mighty Satume, ever having
delight in th' things

this that
which
displease
me, what a word
is
thou hast spoken! for
now indeed wouldst thou

perform
render
my
labour vaine, which I have undergone assem-
bling the hosts,

behests,
even
made
tiring the steeds to
my
and bring
evills to
Priam and
his sonnes."
To
her Jove
replie:
ARGUMENT OP THE
"Strange one!
ILIAD.
247
Wliat
evills
hath Priam done unto thee,
that thou hast such hatred toward

thou, entering his citty, devoure alive
him?
Fain wouldst
his sonnes,
thyselfe.
Priam and
and the other Trojans, that thou might

If at any subsequent time I
satiate
may
desire to overthrow citties,
where dwell men deare unto

hand,
thee, seeke not to hold
my
for although greatly unwilling, I
unto thee,
now
freely yield
^least
this
be a cause of
are
strife or
contention
Jbetweene us.
in
But the Trojans
most estim'd by
me
my
heart, for there
my
altars
never lack'd a
sacrifice or
libation; for there these
honours none omitted."
And Juno
"Three
answer'd:
are most dear unto mee, Argos, Sparta,
shalt desire to
it
citties
and wide-way ed Mycenae; whenever thou

not meet that dissensions and
thine origin thence
is
overthrowe these, I will by no meanes stay thee, for

is
strife
come betweene
us.
Whence
banded,
mine, and moreover I
am
th'
thy spouse; I therefore, being soe fathered and soe hus-
am
very venerable, and thou rulest amongst Let us then duely make concessions
immortalls.
I
to
to
th'
thee and thou to mee.
Send Minerva therefore
plaine and instruct her to incite th' Trojans, that they

first offer
may
injury to th' widely renown'd Greeks contrairie
to the league."
Thus she
obey.
spake, and Jove, father of gods, did not dis-
Instantly he
summoned Minerva and spake winged
words to her thus:

"Hasten to descend to the horse-breaking T'rojans and
the well-greav'd Greekes, and incite the Trojans
offe'
first
to
injury to Greekes, contrary to th' league, that there
may
be reneVd conflict."
248
And Minerva
To mariners and
did not hesitate to obey,
But, like th^ starre Jove sendeth as a signe

sailors
on
th' deepe.
And
to the various nations of the earth.
Emitting sparkes of light in her descent,
Minerva quickly leaped into

Then, awe-strucke, one
their ranks.
to other uttered this:
'Th' arbiter of all afaires belowe.
Great Saturne's sonne, hath ordain'd bitter warre.
Or doth
establish friendship 'twixt th'
Greekes
And
mightie Priam's hosts."
Thus did they speake; But liken'd to Anthenor's mighty sonne, She sought brave Pandarus amidst the band
That followed him from
th'
^sepus' streams;
in
And, standing near him, spake
winged words:
sonne.
"Would thou now Pandaru', Lycaon's

Lend
IN'o
eare unto th' counsells that I give,

its
longer would thy bowe,
strong cord slacke,
Hang idly. Thou a bitter shaft wouldst aime At Menelaus, winning endlesse fame. And thanks and favoure, golden gifts as rare As prince or king can offer unto one
Whom
he delights to honour,
^for
indeed
All Trojans would rejoyce, could they beholde
Brave Menelaus
upon th' pyle, thy mighty bowe. from Slaine by an arrow

laid
Especially shall Paris' heart be glad;

'No limit shall there be to gratitude,
'Not to th' treasure in rich store for thee.
Come now,
I pray thee, send thy mighty shaft
ARGUMENT OP THE
Into their midst, and
ILIAD.
249
vow unto Apollo

unthinking minde she wonne.
splendid hecatomb of firstling lambes."
So saying,
his
In haste, straightway, his polisht bowe he tooke,
That from the wild

fashionM.
goat's
branching horns
was
Once from
Lying in
the
ambush on
th'
mountayn
side,
wait, he
saw that noble payre
Proudlie uplifted, as
bounding goat
There clear he saw't
Emerged
to the light.
Against the cavern's mouth, and taking aim,
His winged shaft that square white breast did
pierce,
And
on
th' rocks
supine the creature lay.

tipt,
These horns, polisht and golden
became
Th' bowe Lycaon's sonne, most masterfull.
Did bend.
Th' pointe he rested on
th'
ground,
And from
his quiver taking off the cappe.
Fitted an arrowes notch unto th' cord.
While, round about him, shields were closely ranked
By
his
companions,
lest th'
watchfull Greeks
his life.
slaine,
Espying him should take away
Ere martiall Menelaus should be
The
leader brave of
all
the Grecian hosts.
So Pandarus drew back the tough hide string

Untill his
hand did
rest against his breast.

to the
While the shaf tes barb nigh
bowe was brought
moment,
ere the impatient arrow sped
In swift
flight thro' the
campe, on deadlie quest.
Ah! Menelaus, then thy houre had come.
Had
not blue-orbed Pallas at thy side
Repell'd that shaft.
Ev'n
as a watchfull
mother
Would brush
a fly from her faire, sleeping child,
250

Minerva's hand
th'
sharpe pointe turned aside,
And
firme infixed in his girdle's claspe.
Its course thus silently
and swiftly stayed,
That wicked arrow
little
harm might worke.
Yet did
its
pointe breake through th' tender skinne;
And
the white columns of those ivory thighs,

th' faire feete belowe,
Th' sturdy knees, and
Were
Then
bath'd in blood, blacke as th'
sacred Styx.
'gan that heroes heart to
quail with feare;
But, looking downe, th' corde outside he saw.
And
once more gathered courage in his brest.
When Agamemnon
Gushing from out
sawe that coal-blacke stream
his martiall brother's side,
Lamenting
loud, Atrides'
hand he
grasp'd.
And
thus hee spake, and his companions nigh

also:
Lamented
"My
beloved brother,
By
this inglorious league
thy doome I seal'd:
Alone thou
sufferest for all th'
Greekes
Through Trojan
treacherie.
But, even now,
I see them with their wives and tender babes

Paie with their lives a debt to righteous Jove;
Already
is
his
heavy hand outreach'd,

to fly forth,
His lightnings quiv'ring, eager
And Priam and

But
his citty shall lie low.
thou, alas, shalt rest in forraine soile.
While wee retume, disgrac'd, to our faire land Beyond th' sea. For if, indeed, our leader
Fall
by
tK'
hands of Trojans, or
allies.
All then will long for
home and
fatherland;
And, leaving Argive Helen

In
hastie flight will
to our foes.
shippes.
homeward tume our
ARGUMENT OF THE
Then
will
ILIAD.
tliat host,
251
some one or other of
Leaping and dancing on thy tomb, speake thus:

*0 would, indeed, that
Agamemnon
Yainly
ever
Such vengeance wreak'd!

Across
th' seas,
his fleet
he led
and now he hath returned

leaving Menelaus,
In empty
vessells,
That valiant hero, dead in Phrygia.'
When
this shall be,
may
then the gaping earth
Ope wide
to swallow
me."
But brave
Marking
'*Let
Atrides,
his brother's grief, spake hastilie:
not the Greeks see feare and sad distrust

the motion of a kinglye eye:
Goveme
1^0 man, indeed, should have one throe of feares
Lest hee, by showing

IsTo
it,
his host dishearten.
feare have I of death, or thought of dying.

slight the
For
wound must
tum'd
be.
This well-wrought belt
Of many
Th' pointe
colours blent hath stay'd this shafte;

is
ere reaching vitall parts."
To him
the chief e replied:
"So
may
thy words
Be
true, th' gods preserve
thy
life for
aye!
But forthwith
will
we
send unto Machaon,

th'
Th' Grecian hero; he
wound
will probe
And draw
th'
poyson'd shaft, with remedies

to
Which Chiron gave

Relieve th' pain."
^sculapius
*
He
cal'd th' messenger,
Tal thy bins, and said in winged words:
"Haste thee, Talthybius, to seeke the sonne
Of ^sculapius, divine Machaon, And bid him unto Menelaus haste.

Chiefe of the Greekes, whom some one midst the bands
Of Trojan archers, or of Lycian, To whom 'tis glorie, but to ns ^ griefe, Hath wounded with an arrow. Bid him come,
And
with some panacea ease the wound."

Talthybius straightway obey'd, and sought
Divine Machaon 'midst
th'
eager hosts
That throng'd him round.
By him
hee stood, and gave
Th' message of imperial Agamemnon,
Bidding him come with speed;
then, turning, led
His swift steps
to Atrides, 'midst his
ranks
Of
The
grieving souldiers.
From
bitter
the wound, v?ith care.
arrow this physitian drew.

barbes, as
it
Yet were the
was done, snapt
off;
Next hee
th'
embroider' d girdle's claspes undid,
And And
well-wrought plate beneath, most tenderly,

in the
wound
did poure a healing balme.
Meanwhile, across
th' plaine,
the Trojan hosts
In warlike guise advancing, might bee scene.
Then would you not surprise brave Agamemnon, lôr see him hesitate nor shunne the fight;
But hastening
forth, hee
bade Eurymedon,
Th' Sonne of Ptolymseus, to be nigh
With
steeds
and chariot against a time

field,
Tha4, wearied with the labors of the
Hee might gaine respite. Many hurried on; To these he spake swift words of cheer, thus
"Argives!
saying:
remit not any of your ardor.
For Jove
will not of falsnesse
bee
th' abettor;
The
flesh of all false
Trojans shall be food
ARGUMENT OF THE
To cormorants.
Ay, and
ILIAD.
253
their wives
and children
(Since they this solemne league did violate,
And
first
did offer injury), for this,
Shall hence within our sable shippes be borne,
As we
returne to our dear native land
Triumphant conquerours.
Then
lie
shal faire Troy,

i'
And
all
that
mighty band,
lowe
th' dust."
But when he found a soldier loytering. Or any that would shrink backe from the fight. To these in wing'd words spake he: "Arrow fighters,
Why stand ye here like fawnes,

Along
th' plaine,
which frighted runne
then
all
dismaied stand gazing,
As
if there
were noe heart within their brests?

untill these
Will ye awaite
Trojan hosts
Draw nigh with fire, and all the Rhetsean shore. Where lie your shippes, to ashes shall bee tum'd, That ye may knowe what is th' will of Jove,
Whether he over you
will stretch
an arm?"
So through the hosts he

length
pass'd,
and came at
Where brave Idomeneus,

Comanding
like a wild boar
Strong in his might, the Cretan bandes did lead,

in th' van; while in the reare,
Where
in close ranks they stood, Meriones

on.
The phalanxes urg'd While thus he said:

Most
Nigh him he paused
"Thou brave Idomeneus,

valiant art thou, ever in th' strife.
at the solemne feasts, to
And
At
mee thy cup
all
times standeth ready to be quaff' d.

it,
Would thou now prove
hasten to th' field."
254

Idomeneus
replied:
''T
have in truth
To
thee,
O Agamemnon,
ever beene
ally,
most congeniall friend and firme
And
such I will to end of time bee found.

haste to exhort th' othe' chief es, since
But do thou
now
treacherous
army
of Troy's strongest forces,
In violation of the league, approach,

First having offered injury to thee."
:
Mighty
Atrides,
much
rejoyc'd in heart
At words
like these, hastened along the field;

th'
Soone nigh unto
Ajaces he stood.
And
Most
round about
foot-souldiers, tall,
were throng'd
like a cloude, that oft the
goatherd spieth,
Dark
I
as th' night, in pitchy masses roll'd

it
Acrosse wild seas that
to
fury lasheth;
And
I
shuddering deepe, he doth a cove' seek
In
cleft stone wall
upon
th'
mountayne
side,
lie,
Where
[he] himselfe and tender herd will
Untill th' tempest cease.
Like such a cloude,
The phalanxes acrosse th' waste did move, With spears and shields that bristled like a wood.
When
Spake
!
these hee viewed, Atrides, standing nigh.

to
them winged words,
in heart rejoycing:
"Ye
111
Ajaces, to exhort you like the others,
would become
my
state.
Well do I know
th' fight.
That ye your army urge unto
Exciting in each heart desire of glorie.
Would,
great fathe' Jove, ruler of earth,
And
'
thou Apollo and Minerva mighty.

in all
!
Such courage were

Priam's faire
cittie
Then might we
its
see
bending to
ruin,
And
all its glorie levell'd
in the dust."
ARGUMENT OF THE
Heere
ceas'd his speecli,
ILIAD.
255
and leaving them
still
standing,
Hee
to tlie others joyously did passe,
And
]êstor soone approacht.

th'
The PyKan
sire,
Surrounded by
other chiefes, hee found
Exhorting eagerly these comrades nigh.
To
leade the hosts to the tumultuous battaile.

all
There might you note 'midst
the noble throng,
Th' mighty Pelegon, with bold Chromius,

Bias,
who was
th'
shepheard of
th' people,
Alastor and Prince Haemon, gather'd round
To hear With
the sage, and
mark how
skilfullie
first,
His hosts hee marshalleth.
Th' horsemen
their strong chariots shining with brasse
Most brightly burnished, and pawing steeds; The sturdy foot, like soKd wall of stone,
Guarded
th' reare;
while
i'
their midst the cowherds

tide
Were
held, that,
by the rushing
on unto the
of warriours
Resistlessly swept
fray.
They needes must mix with Troyans, and must fight Or bee cut down. Having accomplisht this. The aged sire address'd them in swift wordes:
"Let no
man
here, relying on the skill
Hee hath
in armes, rush singly in the thicke

conflict;
0' mightie
rather let every man,
If possible, extende his weapon forth.
And
with
th'
pointe his neighbour's chariot touch.

valiant
For thus
th'
men
of former times.
Against a foe in solide ranks, did moove
And overtume
the strongest phalanxes:
Like these therefore go forth to victorie."

So spake the aged man, long since well
In conduct
o'
skill'd
th'
warres; to
him
Atrides:
"Would, worthiest Nestor, that some other man

This weight of yeares soe heavy might upbeare,
And
that thy strength
might equall
to the heart
Within thy
breast, since thus to thee o' late
Old age hath come, common
alike to all.
And
And
ever wearieth thee."
Thus
did he speake.
the Gerenian knight, old Nestor, said:
" 'Twere well, indeed, if
now
I could again
Th' might I had, when in
my
prime I slew
One Eruthalion, feel in hands and arms. But never all their glorious giftes to men
Doe
th'
gods at once bestow.
If then, in youth
And
I
youthfull strength I gloried,
now
olde age
In turn invadeth me.
But, even
n(3Hv,
much
desire to aide
men
with
my counsel,
And
I see
ever by the horsemen doe I stand.

for th' conflict marshalling their steeds,
gather, but to younger
When,
I leave
them
men
th' shield
and spear."
spake.
Thus Nestor
And, hearing him, Atrides joyously
To
others went, addressing every chief

earnestlie.
Most
Next he Menestheus saw,
Sonne of Peteus,
who
'midst th' Athenians
Stood quietlie; by him crafty Ulysses,

Encircled by the Cephallenians,
Wee
Of
see, for
they as yet no sound do hear

i'
dreadfu' battaile hurtling
th' ayre,
And
waite the approach of other hosts, to lead
ARGUMENT OF THE
Into
its
ILIAD.
267
turmoil.
o'
Seeing them thus stand,
The Sonne
Rebuking
Atreus hastily approacht,
boldlie both his valiant chiefes^

i'
Speaking. to them
words which had swift wings:

crafty Ulysses,
"Thou Sonne of Peteus and
Why
Ye
To Ye
Th'
stand ye idly waiting with your troops?

first,
should be
when Trojan
hosts
draw nigh,
rush headlong into the thick of battaile.

ever are th' foremost at th' feasts,
first to
be invited,
when
it
th'
Greekes
banquet
to their chieftains
do prepare.
to sit there;
For
pleasant, then,
suit well
ye find
such
Th' meats
'Tis
tastes,
and the sweet wines,
your delight
to quaffe."
But stem Ulysses
To him
replying said:
"0 sonne
now,
o'
Atreus,
What
foolish language,
th' barrier
if
Guarding thy mouth oreleapeth! for
thou wouldst
I do,
sire
At the battell once take note whatere Thou wouldst not se Telemachus' bold
Shrink
fro' th'
turbulent and noisy conflicte;
For, ever in th' thick,
when
spears do bristle
Like to a thomie wood,
my
strong
arm
findeth
Work
But
such as suites the might of sturdiest sinewes.
thou, Atrides, ever speakest rashlie."
When Agamemnon
That
stirr'd in
thus
knew
of the anger
brave Ulysses' crafty minde.
He
hastily
and smoothly spake, attempting

advised to retract.
speech
illy
Smiling hee said:

"I neyther would reproove, 'Rot ev'n exhort thee, urging thee to fight,

For well do I
Accord with
th'
minde thou hast
descry,
And knowing how
thy friendly counsels ever

that thy judge-
my
owne thoughts, and
ment
Doth crye
i'
th' top o'
mine, in thee I
rest,
And
Of
pray
th'
gods
t'
render
if
my
rude words
Yaine and unmeaning,

After
I spake not well.
this at greater leasure will

th' battaile."
we
speake
With
these words, Atrides
Went
to that
band led by the sonne of Tydeus,
Brave Diomed, with valiant Sthenelus,
The Sonne of Capaneus. These standing near As they beside their polisht chariots
Idly do wait, he, speaking swift reproof
In words that winged were, addrest them thus:
"Why
'Not thus,
stand ye idly here, scanning the ranks
If haply yee
may
find
waye
of escape?
sire
Diomed, thy valiant

as to
Olde Tydeus fought,
mine ear report
Of former
warres hath told of his brave deeds
For him I never met, never beheld
But I have heard
that he excelled the bravest.
And
toyl'd with workes of warre far in th' van.
Certaine I am, with god-like Polynices,
Mycenae he did
enter, seeking
ayde
'Gainst Thebes to lead an expedition.
Most eloquently did he
supplicate.
allies.
And
urg'd them stronglie to beecome
That thus hee might obtaine, unto
th' purpose,
Auxiliaries renow'd and skil'd in fight.
Had Jove
withheld his unpropitious omens.
ARGUMENT OF THE
Many Mycenseans had
But they
retiring
ILIAD.
joyn'd his ranks.

to fayre Asopus,
came
Rushie and greene.
This noble hero next
Was
sent
upon a
distant embassie.
There^ in the palace of Eteocles,
Many Cadmeans
at a feast
were found;
But nothing daunted by soe great a numbe',

Th' valiant knight boldlie did challenge
all,
However many would

Mighty Minerva was
That
easily
with him contend.

so great a second
foes,
he did orecome his
And won And
in every contest.
This enrag'd
The proud Cadmean

fifty of
youths, goaders of steeds.

slily forth,
them, going
Prepared an ambuscade 'gainst his return.
There were two
leaders,
Meeon,
th'
brave sonne
O' noble Hsemon, and bold Lycophontes,
Sonne of Autophanus, foremost in
fight,
And
last to leave
the
field.
These Tydeus slew,
Sparing not one save onely Hsemon's sonne;
Thereby
th' threat'ning portents of the
gods
Wiselie obeying, him alive he sav'd
And
sent
him home.
Such was ^tolian Tydeus,
But he begat a
sonne, inferiour far
In courage, though superior in counsell."
Thus did he
speake, and
Diomed was
still,
So greatly did hee reverence the king.

'Not so the sonne of Capaneus, renown'd,
Who
quicklie did reply:
"Lie not,
sonne.
To The truth right well to speak. [N'ever againe Compare us thus unto our ancestors.
Atreus, the divine, since thou dost
know

For we, indeed, doe rightly boast Far
to
bee
better; for we, too, the citadell
Of
seven-gated Thebes have overturned,

walls, that sacred are
Leading beneath the
Unto
the
god of warre, far fewer troops:
Their owne infatuation was their ruine.

Therefore I say, nere place
me
in the ranks
Of such men
as
our ancestors have beene."

sternly regarding him,
But Diomed,
Sit
Addressed him thus:
"0
Sthenelus,
my
friend,
thou down
silent
and obey
my
words.
'Tis surelie
no reproach unto Atrides,

to fight.
Exhorting thus the well greav'd Greekes
His
shall the glorie be, the
honour
his.
When
sacred Ilium shall yeelded be:
But, on the other hand, mourning and griefe

Shall keepe with
Shall be cut
off.
him
their' watch, if ere the
Greekes
'Tis time, therefore, to be
FilFd with impiteous valour."
Thus he
spake,
And
From
leaped
down upon
the earth in haste
the high chariot, girded in armes. the sound

!
How dread
Quake
The
stoutest heart
might well
as it heard.
As
in the ocean wide,
driving wind from the Korth-west comes forth

force resistlesse, and the swelling waves
With
Succeed so fast that scarce an eye
may
see
Where one
Till,
in pain doth bring another forth,
on the rockie shore resounding loud.

spit forth
They
foam white
as the
mountaine snows,
And
break themselves upon
the orejutting rocks
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
261
Thus, mightily, the Grecian phalanxes

Incessantly mov'd onward to th' battaile.
It
might not then be

silentlie did
said, that anie
man
,
Possessed power of
human
Each
speech or thought,
So
they their leaders follow

chief
In reverentiall awe.
commanded
led his
The
troops that
came with him
each
owne
Glittering in arms, bright, shining as th'
sunne
While
in well order' d phalanxes they mov'd.

like
Th' Trojan hosts were
unto a
flocke,
Close in a penne folded at fall of night,
That bleating looke
th'
waye
their
young ones went,
And
fill
th'
ayre with dire confusion

hosts.
Such was the noyse amongst the Trojan
No two
gave utterance to the same crye,
So various were the nations and the countries
From which
Minerva
they c^me.
Mars these
incited forth,
those inspired,
with Terror dread.

the sister unto Mars,
And
Rout; and Strife
Th' homicide
she
goeth on the ground
And yet doth hide her head in mistie clouds, And while along the plaine they madly haste.
She
casts
amongst them wild contention.
Like wintry mountaine torrent roaring loud
That frightes
th'
shepheard, in th' deepe ravine
Mixing
th' floods
tumultuously that poure
From
forth an hundred gushing springs at once.

battaile din arise.
force.
Thus did the deaf'ning
When
meeting in one place with direfull

th'
In tumult and alarums,
armies joyn'd.
equall might;
Then might
of warriour
met an
Shields clasht on shields, th' brazen spear on spear,
While dying groans mixt with

In blood,
the battaile cry
In awesome sound; and steedes were fetlock deepe

fast flowing, as th' armies met.
first
Antilochns
slew Echepolus.
Upon
th' horsehair crested
helmet of the Trojan,
Th' mighty speare struck such a deadly blow.

It pierced through th' well
wrought
plates of brasse,
And
deepe within his forehead was infixed.

sodainely blacke death oreshadowes him,
like a
Now And
tower he falleth in
conflicte.
th' dust.
In that
Chief of
fierce
th'
Elephenor then.
most magnanimous Abantes,

swift haste proceeded
Seeing him fall, in all To drag him forth and
of his armes despoyle him.
But
Ev'n
this
Agenor,
th'
magnanimous, descrying.
heavie beam,
Aimed
at
him with
skill his
as the hero,
bending down, reveal'd

his
His side unguarded 'neath
brazen shield.
At once
Then
the limbes relaxed, and falling down,

his heavie soule.
In groans he breathed out

rose
most dreadfuU
conflict
'mongst the foes
Trojan 'gainst Greek, and Greek 'gainst Trojan rush'd.
And
As they had beene the wild wolves of the forest. each bore down his man. Then mightie Ajax,
to brave
Sonne
Telamon, smote Simoisius,
Th' faire young sonne of bold Anthemio',
When, formerlie, his mother (following Her honor' d sire) descended downe Mount Ida, To beare her parents companie as they view'd
Th' assembled
flocks, there
on the flow'ry banks
Of Simois
did she bring forth this sonne.
And
for that cause
him Simoisius nam'd.
ARGUMENT OP THE
But nere could
tie
ILIAD.
263
repay
th'
tender care
his
Lavish' d on him, for
Ajaxsaw
forme
his speare.
As he
advanced, and smote
him with
th'
Straight at his brest hee sent that heavie
beam
And
pierc'd
him through:
sharpe point might bee
seene
Protruding from his shoulder.
[N'ow
he
lieth
Low
in th' dust, like
some
faire poplare tree,

th' toppe,
Whose
For
branches smooth that grow upon
Th' chariot builder lops and fairly trimms

felloes to a royal chariot
th'
wheel:
drieth.
Upon
bankes
it lies
and slowly
Thus high-bome Ajax
did this princelie sonne
Of brave Anthemion
spoyle, though, to avenge him,
Sonne of Priam's
Th' varied corselet

Full at his brest.
Antiphus, who wore aim'd brazen spear

his
But hee
escap'd full light.
While Leucus
Strucke in
th'
fell,
friend to Laertes' sonne,

Ulysses, wroth thereat,
groyne.
th'
Kusht through
van, bending his wrathfull gaze
Upon
th'
foe with threat of dreadfuU death.
The Trojans backe recoyl'd as he drew near, And, when he hurl'd his massive brazen spear,
Th' foremost ranks broke in confusion;
Ev'n Hector shrank from

^N'one there could
th' furie of his looke,
meet
it:
nor was
it
in vaine
He
threw his speare, since Priam's bastard sonne,

of Abydus, was strucke.
Democoon
Who
lately
came
kept.
fro'
'tending th' fleet mares

his
Priam there
temple.
Th' sharpe pointe pierc'd
And
darkenesse veyl'd his eyes, as downe he
fell.
264
Then rose a shout from As wildly on they prest

Apollo at
th' sight
all
the Argive train
in
mad
pursuite;
was sore displeasM,
Greatly he grew in wrath, and looking downe
From Pergamos, he
"Yee Trojan
Their flesh
shouted to
th'
Trojans:
warriors,
rouse yee to the fight,
E'or yeeld th' battell to th' impiteous Greekes;

is
not of stone, nor yet of brasse,
Impenetrable to well-pointed speares;

'Nov doth th' Sonne of faire haired Thetis fight.
Mighty
Achilles, for at th' ships he sits
E'uTsing his spleene."
'Twas thus Apollo spake.
Meantime, Tritonia' Pallas
to th'
Greekes
Spake words of cheare, whenere she saw them flagging,
That straight did rouse new courage in
th' breast.
But
fate ensnar'd Diores in her toyles,
Diores, sonne to
Amarynceus
brave,
For with a jagged handstone was hee struck
Upon
the leg above the ancle joynt.

th'
Th' leader of
Thracian warriours, Pirus,
Th' sonne of Imbrasus, who came from ^nos,

It
was that hurl'd the swift impiteous
stone,
That, crushing bone and sinew at a blow,
A wyde way made

So downe hee
fell
t'
let
forth living breath.
supine upon the sands

life.
And
breathed forth his
Yet Pirus
stayed not;
v
Hee still ran on and thrust him with Then all his bowels in his body brast. While darknesse vayFd his eyes.
^tolian Thoas,
his spear:
With fury
fierce
and
wîld,
then 'pon him
fell,
ARGUMENT OF THE
And, with
ILIAD.
365
the push of his sharp-pointed speare,

breast,
So strong and hard strooke Pirns on the

It seized, as a vulture's evill beak.
Upon
Out Out
his lungs.
of the gored
Then Thoas, hastily, wound the cruell speare

him
there
Lightly doth snatch, and straightwaye his quick sword

of his sheath hee drew, and smote
And
Of
took
away
his life; yet did hee not
war-like armes despoyle the fallen hero.

that, suddenlie,
Because
around him gathered
A Thracian band,
At
point
that drove
him from
his prize
o' speare.
Valiant and glorious
He
was, and strong of heart, yet
must he yeeld
Unto
that hot and fierce repulse, for none,
How
And
brave soever, coujd withstand such force.

th'
Thus was
Thracian leader, Pirus,
slain,
likewise, lying
low
i'
th' dust,
we
see
Beside him that Epean leader brave,

Diores, while full
many more
lives
close by.
Like fruitlesse seed, their
around did strow.

fight.
Then could not
anie
man
behold that
And
say the action was not glorious,

of those
Whether
who at a distance stood With sharp spears fighting, and escaped the blows, Or those who near at hand had yet not felt The piercing brasse, though in the fiercest strife,
Whom
eage' Pallas leading
by the hand
PreservM from death, and

:
skilfullie averted
Th' violent darts nor truly
may one
tell.
How many Greek, how many

Stretched prone
Trojan knights.
upon the
earth, lay side
by
side
Coldly embracing death.
266

This
work
is
hereafter
persew'd
after
the
originall
niodell,
with the argument of the twentie following books
given in this manner.
The preceding
verses,
although more
then a running note, were written as a supream effort of
memorie,
yet, also,
with a desire
which was
naturall
of
making the work

also,
in some measure easier; for this reason
much
of book three, and the table of the commanders,

full,
doth appear in
but not in the form which
it
hath in
fitly
that early poeme.
Your
part
is
to seeke it out,
and
joyne the fragments, to do which you doe not surely need

furder instruction, but
much
patience and
skill.
In the
fift
book of
related,
this great
poeme, will the exploits of

miracles of valour and
Diomedes be
who perform'd
field,
even wounded Yenus in the hand.

drave roaring from the
And Mars
likewise he
hurt and wrathful, for both
these imortals ayded the Trojans.
But them mightie Dioconflict,
medes dreadeth not
to
engage in a hand to hand
for Minerva rendered
him both
glorious and mightie,
mak-
ing his helmet and shield shine like a sommer
starre, like-
wise increasing the strength of his sinews and th' courage

in his breast.
First the
two sonnes of
Yulcan's blamelesse
priest.
skill'd
Dares, rich and famous as well,

in all sorts of battaile, rusht
Phegeus and Idseus,

as
upon Diomed
he stood alone
but with his javelin, hee thrust Phegeus downe and forc'd
him out
leapt
of his chariot.
th'
Then
Idseus, fearing like
harm,
downe from
very beautifuU chariot, nor stay'd to
protect the
body
of his brother, whose fate he surely would

escape.
at once bring
upon himselfe, could he not
Yulcan,
ARGUMENT OF THE
mov'd
ering
witli compassio' to the old
ILIAD.
267
man, sav'd
his sonne, cov-
him with
o'
a thicke cloud.
But when the Trojans saw

all their
the sonnes
Dares, one slaine, the other in flight,
hearts were discomforted.
Thereupon Pallas Minerva, leading Mars gently from

th' field, seated
him upon
grassie Scamande', saying to
him
that 'twere
much
better should they leave th' battaile to th'

of
Greekes and Trojans, that the wrath

averted.
flight,
Jove might be
th'
Afterwards
th'
Greekes
turn'd
Trojans to
vioo'
while each leader slew his man.
Agamemnon,
Betweene
armes
lently hurling forth th'

th' Halizonians,
mighty
spear,
smote the leade'
Hodius, that
first
did turn.
th'
shoulder blades that sharpe point enter'd,
and pierc'd
his
re-
through his
brest.
With
a crash he fell
and
sounded loud.
Then Idomeneus slew

Tame, a sonne
lance he
to
Phaestus,
who came from
fertile
Mseonian Borus.
in the shoulder,
Him
as
with his long
wounded
when
he was mountseiz'd
ing his chariot.
So downe he
fell,
and darknesse
him; Idomeneus' companions,

of his armes.
his attendants, despoyl'd
him
Next Menelaus, sonne of Atreus,

sonne of Strophius,
skill'd in
kill'd
Scamandrius, the
the chase, an excellent marks-
man.
'NoWy indeed, cannot avail the ayd of arrow-rejoycing
Diana, nor his skilful long-distance shots, because Menelaus,

the sonne of Atreus, hurled at
him
fell
his sharpe spear,

th'
and
smote him so fiercely in the back that

pierc'd thorow his brest.
sharpe
point
So he
prone, and his armes
resounded loud.
Meriones slew Phereclus, sonne to
th' artist
Harmon who
shippes
for
was
skill'd in all handicraft
ing well.
'Twas he who
for
Minerva lov'd him exceedequall
built those
268

and bane
to all the Trojans,
Paris, th' source of woes
but
most
to
himself e, not knowing what was meant
by the
oracles of the gods.
Meriones followed
close, and, overtak-
ing him, thrust the spear into his hip.

pass'd through beneath the bone,
Th' brazen pointe

th' bladder.
and penetrated
Falling upon his knees with loud lamentings, he pass'd into

the shadowes of death.
'Next Pedaeus was overtaken by Meges.

ural Sonne
o'
He
was a natas care-
Antenor yet noble Theano
rear'd
him
fully as her
own
dear children, to gratiiie th' heart of
her
husband.
Him
its
the spear-fam'd sonne of Phyleus, Meges,
thrust through the back of the head with a spear,
and the
point found
way out under
his
tongue through the teeth:
and low in the dust hee

his teeth.
fell as
he caught the cold head in
But Eurypylus, sonne
to
Evsemon,
kill'd
Hypsenor,
following
Sonne to Dolopion, Yulcan's honoured
priest;
him, hee smote him with the sword, cutting
off his
heavy
hand which was red with

veyl'd his sight.
gore.
As
it fell,
bloud-red Death
Then no eye could distinguish know to w^hich army he belonged.

blooming
fields)
the sonne
o'
Tydeus,
to
Like a mountaine
tor-
rent (that neyther bankes nor fences
may keep from

the
plaine,
fair
which, swolne greatly by
th' rain-storms of
fathe' Jove, tumultuously doth overflow
and
overturne
many workes
the vigourous youths have laboured

dis-
long to compleat, so Diomedes rusht along the plaine
comfiting th' hosts of th' foe. Here, there, and everywhere,

at once
hee flew, and perform'd prodegys of valour.

therefore,
When,
crooked
Pandarus saw him sweeping through
the field and driving the Troyans before him, hee drew his
bow and aimed
at
him an arrowe, by which he
ARGUMENT OP THE
thouglit to stay his course.
ILIAD.
26
The
cruell arrowe sped forth so

it.
swiftly that
Diomedes could not avoid
The
shaft struck
sharply upon his shoulder, piercing the corselet and coming
through on the other

Seeing
this
side.
Pandarus, rejoycing, exhorted his compan-
ions to return, boasting that hee had
wounded
to the death
one of the bravest of the G-reekes.

his chariot
But Diomedes approacht

magnificent chariot and
where
th'
sonne of Capaneus, Sthenelus, friend

th'
of his heart,
steeds,
remained with
and entreated him that he would leap down out of
the chariot, and remove
from the wound the deeply piercing

There-
arrow; for hee was anger'd because Pandarus declared he
would not long behold
th' glorious light of the sun.
upon bold Sthenelus drew forth the arrow, and the blood
spurted through th' twisted mayle.
Then Diomedes prayed aloud to Pallas Minerva that she would ayde him in th' fight, if ever he or his sire, in former
times,
had beene aided by
her.
His prayer was heard, and
granted.
Minerva
increast th'
might of
his soule
and body
many times more then

upon him
to
to injure
their wont,
and
also
made
his eyes so
clear that they could discerne gods
and men, but injoyn'd
no other save Venus should hee chance

forth at once, strong in
indeed, a lion
meet
her.
Whereupon hee went

slightlie
the might Minerva bestow'd,

(that a
resembling,
as
heardsman
grazing
he leaps over the
courtyard, but in his fright injures no further) [which] rejoyces as he sees
the
sheep
abandon'd,
soe
Diomedes,
rejoyc'd in heart, mixt quickly with his foes, and slew so
many that ^neas,

him
to
in alarm, sought Lycaon's sonne, begging

at th' warriour that
aim an arrow
was making such
havocke among
th' Trojans.
270
Both
fear'd that
lie
might be a god, angrie because
their
sacrifices at
times had been neglected.

as
Pandarus soone recognised him

observing his steeds.
Tydeus' sonne, having
seene his shield, the oblong helmett which hee wore, and
Yet was hee perswaded
in his
owne
minde
it
was not meerelie Tydides
whom
they fought, but
that hee
must bee ayded by some one
of the immortalls,
that, standing near,
wrapt in a cloud about the head and
shoulders, turned aside the shaft that otherwise
would
hit
him; for he would not thinke that

skill
it
was by any lack of
on his part that both
th'
chieftaines
Tydeus and Atreus' sonne

ing from
wounds.
the
sonne of
at
whom
he had aymed swift
arrows, had escapt death, inasmuch as he saw bloud gushth'
Therefore hee regretted
much
that hee had not brought
with him
steeds
th' eleven richly
ornamented chariots and the
which he had
left at the palaces of his sire.
In
his
discomfiture he vowed, that, returning to Lycia, he would
break in pieces and caste into the
fire th'
crooked bowe, or
the forfeit should bee his owne head.
But ^neas reproved Pandarus, cheared up his heart, and stirred up his failing courage. Then together they bore
down upon Diomed

seeing
to take his life on, urg'd
by
force.
Sthenelus,
them hastening
such unequall
conflict.
Diomede to withdraw from Diomed did not falter, however,
Minerva had soe steeFd
his heart.
With loud
threats,
Lycaon's sonne aym'd his spear at

not.
Diomedes but hurt him

coming out under
smote
Then
he, in turn,
hurFd
his
long lance at Pandarus, which passed through his mouth,

his teeth; so
downe he
fell.
Then he
^neas
so that
he
fell
upon
his knees, while darknesse
veyl'd his eyen.
Then would
hee, too, have perished, had
ARGUMENT OP THE
not Yenus rescued
that no
ILIAD.
271
him and
cover'd
him
in folds of her robe saved.
weapon could
th'
pierce.
Thus was hee
Meantime
to the
strict
magnificent chariot and steeds were taken
Greekes by Sthenelus, who was not heedlesse of those
commands
that
Diomedes
laid
upon him.
But hee
himselfe hastened to return to the reliefe of Diomed,
who
was pursewing laughter-loving Yenus through the crowd.
In
truth, he
wounded her
in th' hand, causing her great
paine, so that she screamed aloud
and
cast her sonne
downe
againe.
Thereupon Apollo cover'd him from sight by
casting over
him a
cloud.
Ichor flowed from the
wound
called
for they eat not bread nor drinke darke wine, therefore
bloud doth not flow in their veines,

immortalls.
and, finding
Iris seeing this, led
and they are
Yenus from
field,
the throng,
Mars upon the
side of the
to
begg'd his
steeds in order to take
Yenus
Olympus.
Swiftly were
they borne upwards, and Dione, mother of the goddesse,

soothed her and wip'd away th' icho' gently, so that she
was heal'd
at once, while to fortifie
Yenu'
spirits,
she told
of other immortalls that suffer' d paine because of mortal

foes.
First,
Mars,
who was imprisoned
thirteen moneths;
then Juno,
Pluto, also.
who was wounded by

But she
a three-prong shaft; then
foretold a short life to
Diomedes
be-
cause of his rashnesse, saying that no sonne should lisp th'
name
of father at his knee.

scofiing
But Juno and Minerva

she caressed some
said
t'
Jove, trulie
it
could be only a scratch, which
Yenus had received while

th'
dame among
Greekes,
whom
she
wish'd to bring away for th' Trojan chiefes,

principall charge, since she lov'd
who were
her
them
dearly.
Meanwhile Diomedes
the' conscious
did not hesitate to attack

also strive
^neas,
he would
with a god, because hee
272
was shielded by Apollo. Thrice did he advance upo' him,
and thrice hee was
repell'd but as
he approached for
th^
fourth time, menacing dreadfullie, the god
reproved him
th' gods.
and bade him
desist,
nor thinke himselfe equall to
Thus he was
forced to
draw backe
slightly.
Then Apollo
phantom
withdrew ^neas from
th' fight, and, creating a

it
that resembled him, sent
to th' battaile; and round this
the contest was renewed with terrible fury.

Sitting
th'
upon Pergamos, Apollo exhorted Mars

addrest Hector recalling to his
to rouse
courage of the Trojans,
which hee proceeded
to do.
Then Sarpedon
ed defend
mind
a boast
that hee and his kindred, the sonnes of Priam, could unaidth' citty,
lion.
yet they affrighted we-re cowering like
dogs before a
This reproach gnawed Hector's verie soule, and brandishing in his hands his sharpe speares, hee leaped
downe
and rusht forth rousing
their
ardor.
But
th'
Greekes,
awaiting in solide ranks their attacke, were not driven backe
nor discomfited by the onslaught.
Th' two Ajaces [and] Ulysses joyn'd Diomedes, inciting
and haranguing them

gle.
to hearten
them
for a terrible strug-
Like clouds about the summit

all
Boreas sleepeth, and

th' soft
Olympus when other windes having driven away

of
as these, calme,
and shadowy vapour are hushed,

th'
immovable, stood
Greekes.
Apollo in the meantime had sent

field
^neas back
to the
wholy
restored, invigorated
and endow'd with new

but they said
powers.
This greatly rejoyc'd
th' Trojans,
not a word, nor asked a question, so great was the labor
each warrior
leader or
o'
souldier
had
to perform.
The Sonne
companion,
Atreus slew a chiefe,

kill'd
who was Eneas'
^neas
two Greek youthes, sonnes of
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
27a
Diodes, descended from the River Alpheus, dwelling in

Pherse.
They were
as
two young
firs
lions with
th'
the dam,
side.
but they fell like lofty
upon
mountayne
Menelaus seeing
their death.
this pitied
them, and hastened to avenge
Pressing forwards through the van, shining
in brasse, brandishing his spear, he stood;

th'
but Antilochus,
to give
Sonne of Nestor, saw him and followed him
him
least
ayd, for he fear'd for th' shepheard of th' people,
they should bee disappointed of their hope.
But
his
seeing two heroes thus standing, ^neas, though an eager

warriour, retreated.
Then Agamemnon hurling with

on
spear, slew a generall of th' Halizonians,
and Antilochus
hitting his charioteer
his elbow, causing those beautiful
reines to droppe, ran on to drive the steeds to the Grreekes,
and quickly returned that he might protecte Agamemnon.

Hector, beholding
this,
rushed on vociferating loudly^
and behind him the Trojan phalanxes followM.

venerable
Bellona,
Mars and
were
with
with
tumultuous
Din,
Hector
the
former sometimes pacing before him, some-
times in th' rerewarde.
Only
th'
dread presence of th'

is
god could terrify Diomedes, whose course
stopt as
by a
mightie river; but addressing his companions, he exhorted
them not
near,
to put their lives in jeopardie with a god, for
'twould not avail ought.
Then
the Trojans advanced very
and Hector slew Menesthes and Anchialus, both
being in one chariot.
And Amphius, who had come

caste
as.
an ally
to Troy,
was struck with a speare
by Tela-
monian Ajax.
Palling, he
to
made
a crash: then illustrious
Ajax hastened
him, set his heele on his body, and drew

his brazen
from the bloudy wound

possesse himself e
speare,
but did not
of
any armour because of the many
speares of the Trojans.
274

Tliiis thej,
on the one hand, toyrd in
conflict.
N'ow
fate urg'd
to
on two doughtie heroes
King Jove
together,
Tlepolemus
Sarpedon
sonne and grandesonne

These spake
Sarpedon,
and Tlepolemus.
addressing
first
brave
taunted the sonne of Jove with his unwarlike nature, asking
how he
could suppose himselfe the sonne of Jove, while
boastes of th' deeds his mighty, lion-hearted sire in former
times had accomplished, were ever mingl'd with his scoffs;
recounting
how Hercules had come
to
lUium, with onely

citty,
few men
in six vessells,
and overturned the
widowing
still
the streets, to recover the steedes which
Laomedon
continued to withhold. Sarpedon, unable to refute the charge, himselfe most

frankly admitted the defeate, yet cast
th'
blame upon
th'
Laomedon; but he on
his
owne part hence would send
soule of Tlepolemus to steed-fam'd Pluto.
Straightway both hurl'd their long speares at

instant.
th'
same
Sarpedon's entered th' neck,
and
darknesse veiled
the eyes.
But the ashen speare of Tlepolemus penetrated

suffer' d
the left thigh, grazing th' bone, so that he was overthrowne,
but his father
him not
th'
to die.
aside,
it
Then
his
companions draggM him
even while yet
th' speare
remained in
member, and
gave him great
sufferance.
As
hee was borne thence, Ulysses was uncer-
taine whether 'twould bee wiser to folow Sarpedon
and
put an end
to his life, or continue a slaughter of th' Lycians.

th'
Jove would not permit his sonne to be subdued under
mighty spear of Ulysses, and Minerva persuaded

of the hero to
der,
th'
minde
tume
to th' latter.
He slew
Coeranus, Alcan-
Chromius, Alastor, Noemo', Halius, and Prytanis

still
and would
have continued the work, had not Hector
come forth
th'
in shine of brazen armour, bearing terror to
Greeks.
ARGUMENT OP THE
But
til'
ILIAD.
275
heart of Sarpedon rejoyc'd, and quickly he
address'd
Hector, begging that hee would take
him
to
Troy, saying hee would die there rathe' then where he

lay, if, indeed,
he might neve' return to gladden
his dear
wife and infant sonne.
Hector stay'd not, however, nor
spake a word, so intent was he upon his quest, desiring
onely to repell th' Greeks and take the lives of many.
Then
carrying
th'
noble companions of Sarpedon remov'd him,

to a beautiful beech tree of ^gis-bearing
him
Jove, and Pelagon drew forth th' speare.
Thereupon
ani-
mation
reviv'd
left
him and when Boreas
darknesse fell upon his eyes, but he

breath'd over
all th' place.
Th' Greekes did not (on account of Hector and Mars)

retire to th' shippes,
nor would their rankes give waye,
yet were they compell'd to yeeld ground.
Th' question commeth here as to

Hector)
slay,
whom
did
Mars (with
and answer
is
thus made:
Teuthras, th'
knight Orestes, then ^tolian Trechus, with CEnomaus,
Helenus of the race of OEnops, Oresibus of Hyla, neare
Lake Cephissus, and by him dwelt other Boeotians who

possess' d a rich country.
But Juno now
address'd Minerva, and said they should
now come
short of th' solemn promise
made
to
Menelaus,
did they permit destructive
Mars longer
to rage,
and bade
her devise some meanes to aide him.
She, herselfe, sought
her golden caparisoned steeds, and, in the meantime, venerable

tree
Hebe
speedily applied to th' chariot

sides
on both
to th' iron axle-
th'
golden eight spok'd wheeles.
Of
these th' felloes were of gold imperishable, but the tires

that
th'
rimmed them were
all
brasse;
th'
naves of silver;
silver thongs;
th'
body was stretched on with gold and

circula'
and from a double
rim there projected
pole of
276

was fastened
under
th'
silver, to whicli
beauteous golden yoake,

attached.
and here poytrells of gold were

brought
th' steeds
th'
But Juno
was
th^
joake
herselfe, so eager
goddesse for conquest and

Pallas Minerva let fall
th' battaile.
upon
th'
floor
o'
her father
Jove
th'
beautifully variegated embroydered robe which
she wore, and hastened to put on a tunick.
The' round
her shoulders she threw th' dreadfull fring'd ^gis.

appear'd plum'd Terror on
Fortitude;
all sides;
On
it
thereon was mighty
thereon
also
was chilling Pursuite; thereon

Gorgonian head,
dire,
was
Strife; thereon
was
th' dreadfull
horrible, a portente of iEgis-bearing Jove.
Likewise upon
her head she donned her foure-crested, golden helmet, with

spreading metall ridge, equall to
citties.
th'
armour of a hundred
Finally she took in hand th' mighty speare she

to wield,
was wont
then she stept into her beautifull chariot;

th'
restles,
but Juno spurr'd on
pawing
steeds.
Then
Jove's faire Howres, which watch Olympus' gates, threw
wide
th' portals that
they should goe through, and soone th'
highest summits of
Olympus were
gain'd,
and Jove, apart
from
all th' others,
was found there
sitting.
Eagerly Juno beg'd that she might drive Mars,

frantick one, hither,
so
th'
who
griev'd her with th' slaughte' of
many Greeks
that she held dear, but pleas'd Apollo

let slip this
and Yenus, who had
god of warre.
And
hee
was ready to gratify her wish, but bade her send Minerva
rather then go herselfe.
Thereupon the goddesses descended Olympus, passing

through
th'
space
midwaye betweene the earth and

leap th' steeds
that
starrie heaven.
At each
it.
went
as
farre as
th' eye can reach along the darkling ocean
when gray
mist doth
lie
over
But when they reached Troy, where
ARGUMENT OF THE
th' river
ILIAD.
277
Simois and Scamander joyne, Juno unyok'd her

soft mist
steeds
and shed a
round them.
Then
the
th'
River
Simois afforded them ambrosial fodder.
With
steppe like
th'
to
timorous
doves,
goddesses
approached
Greekes, that, as ravening lions or wild
boares, stood in close array

selfe
around Diomed.
Likening her-
to Stentor, th'
great-hearted and braze'-ton'd,
who
all
was accustomed men, Juno
to shout as loud, indeed, as fiftie other
cried to
them
that 'twas
shame
to
them
that their hearts were but
ill
suited to bodies so admirable,
and reminded them that when god-like Achilles was in the

field,
th'
Troja's fought not farr
from
th'
Dardan
gates,
because they fear'd his speare, but that they

close
now
ventured
citty.
upon the hollowe
shippes, farre
away from the
Then blew-eyed
him by
received
Pallas hastened to Diomedes, and found
th' side of his chariot,
cooling the
wound he had
from
th' swift
arrow Pandarus had aym'd at him,
for th' moisture unde' his shield's wide
band caus'd him
great discomfort, and his
hand was aweary.
Then Minerva
touch'd th' yoake of the steedes and said
"O little like himselfe is the sonne Tydeus hath begotten! Hee in very truth was but smal of stature, but a warriour; and though I would not suffer him at all times to fight, nor to rush furiously to the battaile, even when he went on an
ambassage to Thebes, he
still
retain'd his courageous spirit,

easilie
and strove with numerous Cadmea's, and

all,
conquer'd
art
so powerfull an ally
was I unto him.

to
But thou
farre unlike Tydeus,
and unworthy
tho' I
bee call'd the sonne
of such a man.
For
am
constantlie inciteing thee
against th' Trojans, and shielding [thee]
from harm, eyther
thou dost weary, or feare doth
But unto her
valiant
now dishearten thee." Diomed in reply thus spake:
278
"I
know
thee well,
tliou
daughter of ^gis-bearing Jove,
and I
thee,
will plainly tell thee, nor seeke to conceale
from
why
I have left the fight.

soule possest with feare.
Iêyther
am
I weery
selfe,
nor
is
my
Thou, thy own
in sending
me
unto the
battaile, injoyn'd
on
me
to fight
only against Yenus and
wound her with
th'
pointed spear,
but to contend with no other immortall.

I retyr'd from the
field,
Therefore have
otho'
and have drawne away the
Greekes
also,
because I perceive Mars dispensing
now
the
battaile."
To him
blue-ey'd Minerva said:
"Tydides, deare to
my
soule, neythe'
neede thou in thy heart quaile before god

th' immortalls, so great
Mars or any other of
an auxiliary
am
I unto thee.
Then come now,
direct th' solid-hooved
steeds against implacable Mars, and engage
him
in close
combat, nor regard this phrensied and unnaturall pest

this
weather-vane!
For hee
th'
lately
promis'd Juno
and
myselfe that
assist
he would aide
Trojans no more, and would

alas,
th'
Greekes.
But now,
all this."
he mixeth with
th'
Trojans and forgetteth
Thus did she

panion,
speake, and laying hold
upon
his
com-
Sthenelus,
dragg'd
him
backeward.
Leaping
straight-
quickly downe, he yeelded
th'
place.
Minerva
way, arous'd to fury, mounted the chariot and seized both goade and reines, directing Diomede to encounter Mars,
who had now slaine Then Pallas put on

But
th'
Periphas, bravest of th' ^tolians.
the helmet of Pluto (which caused
her to bee invisible) that impiteous Mars might not see her.
he,
espying Diomedes, left fallen Periphas and
went against him.

yoake of
Leaning farre out over

he caste
as
it
his reins, over
his steeds
it
his
brazen-headed speare.
it aside.
Yet Minerva caught
sped and turn'd
As
ARGUMENT OP THE
Diomedj however, sent forth
course so that
it
ILIAD.
279
his
weapon, shee guided

it
its
penetrated the lower flank, where

girdle,
was
covered with
th'
but shee withdrew
it
at
once.
Then god Mars roared

or ten thousand
battaile, that the
louder,
much
louder then any nine

strife
men when
Then
they joyne in
of the
Greekes and Trojans hearing

as a
th' bellow-
ing were affrighted.
haze appeareth
when
hot winde doth blowe for a long season, soe Mars ascending
unto heav'n appeared to Diomedes.
Going
to
Olympus,
and seating himselfe by
his father Jove,

th'
hee shewed his
woundes and wiped away
immortall bloud, addressing
words to Jove that were swift as wing'd arrowes, complaining that hee in no wise restrained the daughter he had
begotten,
she
that
was
the
cause
of
continuall
strife
'mongst the other immortalls.

sharply, saying that he
But Jove reprov'd him

all
was most hatefull of
Olympian
gods, and inconstant above all the others; that he fo-und
discorde and warres ever most gratefull,
and
possessed th'
insufferable, iiabending disposition of his mother, Juno.
In truth hee beleeved that had Juno not led him on, hee
had not
suffered thus;
yet
owned
that Mars' paine so

it,
griev'd his
as
owne heart
that he could not endure
inasmuch
Mars was
would
his sonne,
but said
t'
him
that had he, being
so destructive, beene the sonne of other immortalls, long
since
his place
have beene lower then that of the
sonnes of Uranus.
Thus
saying,
Jove straightway commanded Paeon
to
heale him, which hee proceeded to doe, applying remedies,

for hee was not mortall.
As when
the juices of the figgeit,
tree stirr'd into milke quicklie cruddle
the remedies
quickly
heaFd
th'
woundes of impiteous Mars.
Hebe
washed him and decked him in beauteous robes. Then, exulting in glory, he sat downe by Satumian Jove.
280
Whereupon Juno and
that great assistant Minerva, hav-
ing stay'd from dreadfull deeds of death, Mars, the manslayer, returned to the pallace of
mighty Jove.
VI.
And now
th'
dread battaile of Trojans and Greekes

th' gods,
was abandon' d by
to the Greekes.
and victory sway'd most clearly
Helenus counselled Hector

together to
i.
to give order that all
meet
make
supplication in the citadell to Minerva^
6.,
the Trojan dames and the old

th'
men
unable
t'
mixe
with
warriours
instructing Hecuba, mother to both,
that an embroder'd robe be presented to th' goddess, and
twelve yereling heyfers be promist in

therefore leapt
his speares,
sacrifice.
Hector
downe from
his chariot,
and brandishing
th' hosts,
went throughout the army inciting

conflicte,
urging them into the thicke of the
avowing
what was
his mission to th' citty.
No
soone'
was he thus
gooie to Troy, then
Tydides and Glaucus met face to face

first
eager to fight, but
Tydides, inquiring, ask'd th'
name
and lineage of
his opposer:
thereupon Glaucus replied hee

his genealogie, told th'
was well-descended, and in giving

sad tale
o'
Bellerophon, sonne of Prcetus, sent into farre-
distant lands
by
that deluded syre, at the request of his
false-hearted wife
th'
young man's stepp-mother
who,
as
failing in her designe of seduction, hated
him
as
much
she had loved
him
untill so fayling.
Whereupon, being
sent with secret Waiting to the king of Lycia, he was (th'
space of nine dales)
much
attended and honoured as a guest,

Yet,
and Sonne
t'
Prcetus, spouse o' th' king's daughte'.

th'
upon seeing
message which Bellerophon had given him,
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
281
the subtile soveraigne of the Lycians put

great labours.
upon him many

offspring
These, however, were
all
accomplished, and
whe'
it
became known that Bellerophon was the
of a god, the Lycian soveraigne gave

of his daughters;
him
as his wife one

sire of
and by her he became the
both
sonnes and that fayre daughter, Laodamia,

himselfe secretly loved.
whom
Jove
Of one
of these sonnes, Glaucus
was
th' offspring.
this,
Then Diomedes, when hee heard
well remembered
this sire as a guest in his father's house,
and spake of
it.
Both doughty warriours then leapt downe

thus bespeaking amitie.
all
to give the hand,
And Jove
depriving Glaucus of
prudent foresight, hee exchanged armes with Diomed,
giving his rich golden armour for brazen
the valewe of
an hundred oxen for the valewe of nine.
But when Hector

brothers, friends
arrived at the Seian gates, wives and

th' welfare of th' sonnes,
th' field.
mothers surrounded him to ask for
and husbands in
all
He, however,
hastened to the
straightway ordered that

so
should supplicate th' gods,
many
evills
were impending.
Then he
his
beautifull pallace of Priam,
and
fond mother there met
him and hung upon

Jove and
th'
his hand,
begging that wine might be
brought, that he might pour upon th' earth a libation unto
other immortal Is.
This Hector declined,
saying he wisht nought that would enervate him, nor did
he hold
it
meete that hee come with gory hands
to offer
vowes to
th'
powerful sonne of Saturn; but bade Hecuba,

they possest, select the most beautifull
from
th' rare stores

it
robe and bear
to Minerva's temple,
vowing
if
to her twelve
yeerelings that never felt the goade,

sacred
she will avert from
IlKum Tydides,
that fierce warriour, valiant author
of terror.
283

Whilst Hecuba was thus engaged
(in
companie with
on
to
other
dames
of
distinction)
Hector
passed
the
beauteous
halls,
where Alexander built for himself lofty

close
and splendid apartments,

Priam.
golden armour and fitting
by those of Hector and

Sharpely he
There hee found Paris pollishing brightly the

th'
crooked bowe.
reproached him for his infatuation, saying also that his

rage was
ill
suited to th' time.
Threat to the safety of
Hlium mennaced on
hatefuU
it
everie hand,
and he himselfe would
reprove any other warriour that was thus remisse in th'

battaile.
But Paris disclaimed

griefe,
all this,
and
said
was because of
chiefely,
rather then rage or
indignation, that he was thus absent

that his wife, with kinde words,
from the
fight;
but
had urg'd him

better.
to
go forth,
and he
also
thought
it
would be
But Hector made no answer.

o'
Helen spake soothingly
to him, regretting in her soule that a tempest, at the hour
her comeing into the world, had not carried her
off to
some mountayne
billowes.
top, or to the sea to be a prey to the
Then she beggM Hector
to be seated, but he
would not be perswaded
to remaine, although
hee was
sensi-
ble of her courtesie, urging but one thing:

at
that Paris
come
once unto the battaile.
Then he went
his wife, the faire
to his dwelling that
he might look upon
Andromache, and
his infant sonne, since
the gods had perchance decreed his fall at that battaile.
His wife he did not

walls.
find, for she
had gone forth unto the
Thither Hector followed, and Andromache espying
him ran out to meete him, with her a maid bearing th^ child. Andromache took hold on Hector, saying it was
strange he should go out so fearlesslie to th' warre without
pitty for her or his child, foretelling that valour
would
ARGUMENT OP THE
destroy him, and
ILIAD.
28S
replied, it
bemoaning her
fate.
Hector
were shame
citty;
to all
the Trojans should he not defend th'
but spake eloquentlie, with tender paine and sorrow,
of Andromache's possible captivitie and servitude.
Then
infant,
he stretcht forth his arms for his

affrighted at th'
child,
but
th'
nodding plumes,
(also because of all that
glittering brasse) hid his face in th'
bosom of
his nurse.
Hector, smiling, took
off his
helmet and plac'd

little
it
upon the
ground; then he fondled his
sonne, whilst he praied
aloud that he might become a brave souldier, even braver
then he, his valiant
sire,
a joy to his mother.

in his wife's arms.
his face in
Then he placed the boy tenderly

She
tearfully smil'd,
and the babe hid
ker
bosome.
Soothing words Hector then doth speake, and

th'
is
doth pray her to beleeve none can send him to

of death untill his date be out;
shades
and not a man that
borne
can escape
fate,
bee he brave or cowardlie.
Her he bade
return to the care of th' household, whilst hee went forth
again to battaile.
VII.
Keythe' did Alexander staye behind, but joyn'd his

brother as hee pass'd forth, and together they went to the
field
to
hew down
the
Greeks.
Minerva, seeing them

hastily to staie
destroying manie, descended
Olympus
them;
but Apollo, knowing her mission, met her and proposed

anothe' course of action.
This was nothing
less
then that
Hector might challenge the bravest of the Greekes to

single combat.
This beeing agreed upon
it
was made knowne
to
Hector,
who
straightway sent a roisting challenge 'mongst th' wait-
ing Greekes.
By
the tearms of this challenge, th' armour
384
of the conquer'd should go to the victor, but the bodie
should be sent to his owne people.
The Greekes were
all
mute with
dread, yet asham'd to refuse.
Then Menelaus
himselfe.
addrest them, calling
them but dames

th'
without courage, and said he would accept
invitation
This would have beene sure death, and Atrides

therefore hee, seizing th'
knew
it;
hand
of his brother,
to give over.
dissuading with eloquence, prevailed upon
him
Then Nestor
rose and, inciting thei' courage, told of his
brave actions in his youth, and longed to have once more

the mighty strength of former yeeres.
Nine warriours
rose
in
answer
to
his
appeale.
Agamemnon much
two
Ajaces,
the
first
rose up, then
Diomed and
the
next
Idomeneus,
then
his
armour-bearer,
Meriones, after them Eurypylus, Thoas and divine Ulysses.
All these wished to goe out to fight Hector, but the Gerenian
knight, Nestor, bade
his challenge.
it
into th'
them decide by lot who should accept Then each mark'd his owne lot and cast helmet of Atrides, the king. Then they prayM
lot,
aloud that Ajax, or Tydides might get the
or th'
Mycenaean king himselfe.

each chiefe see
all
The Gerenian knight shooke
the helmet and the lot of Ajax leapt out.

let
herald then
to left.
th' lot as
he passed from right

to Ajax,
But
disclaimed
it
until he
came
it
who, stretching
forth his
hand for
it,
saw that
was
th'
it
one that he had
marked, and, in soule rejoycing, cast

saying to
lift
all
upon the ground,

them
and
silently
that the lot was his, and bidding

lest
up prayers
the Trojans heare, or even aloud for

skill
nothing daunted him, nor did hee lacke
use.
Then they
love, give
supplicated Jove, praying that

if
Ajax might
bear away the victory, but
he lov'd Hector with an equall
an equall might and glory to both.
When
Ajax,
ARGUMENT OF THE
tlierefore,
ILIAD.
?85
had put on
his armour, he rusht forward,
grimly
smiling.
The Greekes
rejoyc'd at the sight, but the Trojan
warriours trembled, and even Hector's soule thrill'd and

panted, since having given challenge
retract.
it
was impossible to
heroes
to
Then mighty Ajax bade Hector note many

strife
besides Achilles
amongst the Greekes, and begg'd him
beginne the
and
battaile.
all shiftes
Hector in turne replied he knew
and
passes,
but he would scome any but open warfare.

the long
Then he
hurls
beam
so forcibly that
it
pierces th' outer brasse of

sixe layers,
that seven-fold oxhide shield

stays in the sevent fast iixt.
and penetrates
but
Iôw Ajax hurls a mightie

staies
speare,
and
it
goeth through his equal shield, nor
untill it
through his curat glides and cuts in tway his
tunicke near the flank, but bending or turning hee escapes

blacke death.
lions or boars,
Drawing forth
th'
speares,
battaile.
like ravening
they againe joyn'd
The
point of
Hector's
repelled
was bent on Ajax' and wounded Hector.
shield,
but Ajax' weapon
Yet
did he not cease
from
the combat, but, seizing a great stone lying in the plain,

hurl'd
that
it
it
forth, strook the shield of
Ajax upo'
the bosse so
rang loudly.
it
He in turne snatcht up a heavier stone,

it
and dispatcht
shield
with such force
broke through Hector's
and wounded him
in the knee, so that
he
fell supine.
But Apollo quickly rered him.

to
And
now, in a close hand
hand combat with the sword, both would have had
deadlie
wounds had not the message come

th' battaile cease in
to
them
to cease.
The
side,
heralds, Talthybius
and Idseus, were sent from eyther

obedience to approaching
it
bidding
Night.
Ajax, however, must hear
utter'd
by him
whom
he fought ere he yeelded.
Hector therefore pronounc'd
Bimilar words, and, exchanging gifts, they separated.
286
Then
Greekes.
councils
were
lield
among
pile,
botli
Trojans
and
lêstor avis'd th' Greekes to seeke forth their
dead;
to build
one
common
it
before which a trench
should bee dug, (and beside

the chariots to pass through)
gates should bee erected for
a bulwark to their camp.
Meanwhile
Antenor
was
let
exhorting
th'
assembled
Trojans that thej should
Helen go; but Paris refused

th' treas-
with warmth, whylst proposing he should restore

ures,
and
add
something
it
thereto.
Priam
first
likewise
harangued them, saying

repast,
were well they
goe to their
mindfull ever of the watch, and in the morning
send a herald to the Greekes to lay before them proposalls

of a truce (that those that were slaine might be bum'd) at
th'
time he made them th' offer of Paris, which he bade the

till
herald say must be accepted, or they would fight again

fate divide
them
or give th' victory to one or the other.
But when
receyv'd
it
Idseus bore th'
word
to the Greeks, they
mutely.
But brav Diomed bade them receyve

th'
neither Helen nor the treasures, for even a babe could see
that an evill fate
impended over
Trojans;
and
all th'
Greekes shouted in approval.
Whereupon Agamemnon
Yet
as co'cem'd the dead,
bade the herald heare this expression of sentiment that

accorded fully with his owne.
they bore them no grudge, therefore might they performe

hastily their obsequies with fire, but
Jove must be a
wit-
nesse to the treaties.
Then he
raised
up
his scepter to
the gods, and both hastily brought forth their dead and
built their pyles.
The Greekes
without
it,
built
a wall and strong
towers',
and put
therein gates thorow which the chariots might passe;
and
dug a deep ditch wherein

Th' gods, observing
postes, well sharpened,
were
set.
th' defence,
admir'd
it
but
ARGUMENT OF THE
ISTeptune
built
ILIAD.
lie
287
made
a plaint tbat the wall

citty
and Apollo had
round the
of
Troy for Laomedon would be

Earth-shaker, saying he could
it
eclips'd.
Jove reprov'd
th'
easily overturne th' wall, obliterate everie trace of
with
sand,
and
th' place thereof
know
it
no more.
At
repast.
set of
sun the wall was compleated, and they took

shippes
o'
Then
from Lemnos bearing wine from
Euneiis, the sonne
Jason, came.
thousand measures
were a present fro' Euneiis to Atreus' sonns, but, for the

rest, th'
Greekes gave in exchange large portions of brasse,
iron,
skins,
and even oxen and

all
slaves,
and they feasted

they made a great
bounteously
feast,
the night.
In Troy
also
but Jove, meantime, with loud thunderings, was
devising evills that should fall on Greekes and Trojans

alike;
and pale feare tooke hold upon

till
all,
and they dar^d

to
not drinke
they pour'd out a libation
Saturn's
supreme sonne, but afterwards lay downe and enjoy'd the

boon of
sleepe.
VIII.
Then
Jove, having
summon'd
the
Olympian gods
to
an
assembly upon the very summit of
th'
highest mount, forth' conflicte 'twixt
bade them to take any further part in

the Greekes and Trojans.
At Mount
Ida, consulting the
scales of Destiny, he directs his forked-lightnings against
the Greekes.
Nestor now, in
th' chariot of
Diomed doth
goe out agaynst Hector, whose mighty charioteer Diomed

slays;
then Jove, thund'ring, tum'd backe the Greekes, and

sought
refuge within
their
they
bulwarks.
fire
And
then
indeed would Hector have press'd with

shippes,
to the very
had not venerable Juno put
it
into th' heart
and
mind
of
Agamemnon
(seeing this returne of his hosts) to
288

lie
urge, as vehemently as
forces.
was
able, a charge
with
all
their
Taking position upo' Ulysses'

one
vessell, so that his
speech might bee heard as farre as
th' tent of
Telamonian
other,
Ajax on
th'
side,
and to that of Achilles on the
Atrides incited them forth thro' a dread of shame should
they bee driven before Hector alone, praying that they
might escape
(at least) with, their lives.
And
Jove sent
his eagle with a

sacrifice,
fawne
in th' talons as they

is
were offering
and the fawn
caste doAvne to earth near the

th' signe
beautifull altar.
When
th'
they saw
from Jove, they
rusht forth to battaile, but none went before Diomed.
After him came
two sonnes of Atreus; next the two

and the
Ajaces, clad in impiteous courage, then Idomeneus, and his
armour-bearer, Meriones, followed by Eurypylus;
ninth was Teucer.

Close upon Telamonian Ajax he prest,
mother,
who
as child to
its
sheltered
him
behi'd that mighty shield.
And
one
Teucer peer'd forth, as Ajax mov'd the shield unto

side,
and shooting
his arrows swiftly, slew
many
of
the Trojans.
Agamemnon
incite him,
rerjoyc'd seeing
him, and stood by him to

rich reward
citty.
making promise of
should have enter'd the captur'd
when they But Teucer bade

In
the general observe that hee needed no exhortation.

fine,
he would himselfe doe
all
that was within his power,
but as yet he could not hit the mighty chiefe at
whom
all
he aym'd.
Againe and againe he
levell'd
an arrow at
valiant Hector, but Apollo guarded the hero
from
harme.
Teucer,
however,
slew
Hector's
mighty
charioteer.
This so enrag'd the great Trojan that he seiz'd an heavy

stone and strooke the youth, so that he fell
upon
his knees.
ARGUMENT OF THE
Then Ajax held
groaning heavily.
th' shield
ILIAD.
289
over
companions bore the suffering
him why 1st two strong young warriour to one side,

rous'd the mightie Trojans
Then Jove
th'
who drove backe

in the
Greekes to their defenses; and Hector

fierie steeds in pursuite,
van lash'd his
and slew great

th' rankes.
numbers of those that were in the hindmost of

Juno, seeing their
flight,
prevayled upon Minerva (in
despight of Jove, his decree) to go out with her to the

succor of the Greekes.
Pallas
At
this,
Jove was angry with

said,
more then with Juno, who, he

to thwart the plans
sought ever a
to
meane
and purposes hee wished

their interference,
carry out.
But he now prevented
and
during the whole of the night Hector prevented surprises
through wise prevision.

order
Youths and aged men were given

to
keep
fires
watch in the towers, the matrons
have
mighty
in their halls, and a strong guard set to watch
the secret entrances to the town; but meantime a thousand

fires
blazed around the citty, and fifty
men
at each fire sat
at watch.
IX.
Then
old ]N'estor, wiselie counselling, bade
Agamemnon
to
send Ulysses with Phoenix and Ajax to the tent of the hero
Achilles, if
by any meanes they could prevayle on him

no
availe.
come
to their ayde, but 'twas of
X.
Next Diomedes and

Trojan campe
at
subtile Ulysses
slyly
enter the
night,
having
first
entrapt and slaine
Dolon, who had set out as From him they obtained the
a spye to the Grecian campe.

desir'd informatio' that inabled
them
to seeke out the tent of that Thracian king Rhesus,
290
and having slayne him (with many others) Ulysses loosed

th' solide
hoov'd warlike steeds, and, lashing them with the
bowe, drove them away to the Greekes.
XL
Then they resumM
furiously,
th' conflicte.
Atrides fought most
but Paris woundeth Diomed, and Socus doth

IN'o
injure Ulysses.
this,
sooner do Ajax and Menelaus observe
then they go to their ayde.
Patroclus
Nestor at his tent, and

the field in the
th' sire exhorteth
now seeketh him to goe to
armour of
Achilles.
XII.
Ere long the Trojans
assail
the mighty gates and presse
toward the shippes, in disregard of Polydamas,

preted the omens as most unpropitious.
who
inter-
XIII.
Then ^Neptune engages on the Greecian

battaile proceeds hotly.
side,
and the
Deiphobus
is
repuls'd
by Meri-
ones.
Teucer slays Imbrius, while mighty Hector, smiting

takes
Amphimacus,
Idome'eus,
away
his life, in turne.
Neptune assuming a
likenesse
to
Thoas,
exhorteth
who
proceedeth to the battaile with Meriones.

Seeing
this,
,Idomeneus slays Othryoneus and then Asius.
Deiphobus, ayming his speare at Idomeneus, slayeth him

not;
however
is
his speare falleth not idlie to ground, for
Hypsenor
slayne.
Then
Idomeneus
doth
subdue
place.
Alcathoiis, over
whose body a sharp contest doth take
ARGUMENT OF THE
XIV.
ILIAD.
291
Agamenmon and
battle
other
wounded
chiefes visiting the
now, the Earth-shaker, in the likeness of an aged maij,
taking holde on the hand of
Agamemnon,
spake winged
souldiers.
words and greatly incited the courage of the
With
a bellowing roar, louder then anie ten thousand men,
hee hasted on.
Juno seing him was

visit
delighted,
and prepared
at
once to
Jove on faire Ida.
Bathing and perfuming herboth earth and sky,
selfe soe sweetlie that the odor reached
she array'd herselfe in a beautifull embroder'd robe with
golde claspes and a rich zone, from which an hundred

fringes depended, and, having smoothed her gleaming haire
and disposed
rings,
it
well, she
all,
put on her trebble jewelFd eare-
and, over
a beautifull shining veyle.
Going
forth from her chamber and finding Yenus, she obtained
from her the

as
cestus,
which she wore seducing men or gods,

lacking.
no allurement was
In
it
were
desire,
love-
converse, seductive speech
able to steale
away the minde

all
even of
th'
very prudent.
swiftnesse
Then, descending Olympus, passing with

ore mountain and sea,
she came
at length to farre-distant
Lemnos and sought out Sleepe, the brother of Death. She tooke fast hold upon his hand and begg'd that he would
now
close in sleepe the eiesof Jove, promising a golden

if
throne and footstoole

declined, least
he grant her wish.

his anger.
Jove destroy him in
But hee Yet, when

However,
Juno promised
Pasithea
him the youngest of the Graces to wed

could no longer withstand her.
hee
he made
her sweare by the water of Styx, with one hand

sea,
upon the earth and the other upon the
calling the
292
Titans to witnesse her oath, that she would surely give
him
one of the younger Graces
Pasithea, his hart's
desire.
Hastening to many-rilPd Ida, Juno placed her person conspicuously in Jove's sight, but Sleepe conceal'd himselfe.
Juno, faining to Jove
(as she
had
to
Yenus), that she
sought to unite Oceanus and Tethys, inflam'd his desire to
keepe her near him, avowing, indeed, that none (be she
goddesse or
woman) had awaken'd

herself e at
so
much
love in his
bosom, not even
any former time, he pleaded;
she yeelded unto the embrace of Saturn's lordly sonne,
and hee shed a golden cloud round them, hiding them from
sight.
Lucid drops were
distill'd
from the cloud, and the
divine earth produced hyacinth, lotus, sweet with dewe,
and
crocus, thus
forming a
flow'rie couch,
where the
sire
quietly slumber'd with his spouse in his armes, subdued
by Sleepe and
love.
But Sleepe went
in all swift haste to
the Greeks, where he found the powerfull Earth-shaker,
and led him on
to incite the Greekes.
XV.
Jove waked
to see th' Trojans driven before
them and
was exceedingly angry.

to induce
Calling Iris he sent her forth

to leave the field,
mighty I^Teptune
and requested
divine Apollo that he would at once heale Hector.
Armed
th'
with the ^gis, Apollo doth put the Greekes com-
pleatly to rout
and drive them to their shippes.
These
all
Trojan heroes thought to bum.

fire
Ajax (Telamon) kept
the
backe and himself e slew twelve of the Trojan
warriours.
XVI.
Then
to
valiant Patroclus obtain'd permission of Achilles
don that hero's armour and lead forth th Myrmidons
ARGUMENT OF THE
to th' succour of the Greekes,
ILIAD.
293
upon the condition that he

as soone as
should take heede of

til'
all
danger and return

This he
Trojans were driven backe.
fail'd to do,
but
persew'd the fleeing foe to th' walls of Troy, eager to

slay Hector.
Him,
indeed, Apollo protected, but Sarpedon
was
slaine,
and
also Hector's charioteer, Cebriones.
He
is
repelled
by Apollo, wounded by Euphorbus, and put

Achilles' chariot,
to
death by Hector, but not before he declares th' fat of

Hector.
The latter mounteth loweth after Automedon to th'
and
fol-
shippes of the Greekes.
XVII.
Menelaus then slayeth Euphorbus, who was attempting

to
remove the armour of Patroclus.
As
Atrides doth stand

doe.
waighing in his
minde what he should
Hector's
approach frights Menelaus so that he doth goe in search of

Ajax.
Then Hector doth take off the beautiful armes, but as he is dragging the body away to sever the head from the trunke, he seeth Ajax advancing, and in all haste
mounteth
his charet, giving the
armour
to
some of
th'
Trojans to carry to Troy.
These two, Ajax and the sonne of Atreus, guarded the

fallen hero.
as the
As
a lionesse, keeping watch ore her whelps
huntsmen draV nigh, doth goe round about the den,

whiles Menelaus stood beside him.
soe Ajax, lowering th' shaggy browes, glaring savagely,
walked round him,
th'
Then Glaucus
the conflict
reprov'd Hector in so sharpe a
manner
that
the great hero's heart rag'd, and he, returning, beginneth
anew over
th'
body of Patroclus, while Autome^
don doth furiously defend the chariot of Achilles.
The
Greekes are beaten backe s^ length, and e'vn heroicke Ajax

doth shrinke backe, yet Meriones and brave Menelaus bear
away the body
of Patroclus.
XVIII.
Achilles gave
waye
to the
most violent
griefe, throw-
ing himselfe on the ground, weeping and soe sorelie lament-
ing that his agony touched Thetis' heart; and she came out
of the deepe to give
sea-nymphs.
him comfort, and with her came manie She promises him also she will procure forththis
with most beautifull armor, and for

to
purpose doth go
it
Yulcan and beg
that
hee will prepare

first
at
once.
Yulcan, consenting, maketh

belt of silver.
a five-fold shield, with a
On it
heavens
were the earth, the heavens, the
sea, th'
unwearied
sunne, the moone, and the constellations which crowne the
the
Pleiades, the Hyades, the strength of Orion,

is
with the Beare (that

is
likewise denominated
Wain) and
the only constellation never wet in
wave
of the sea.
On
it
were two
faire citties: in one marriage feasts,
dancing, sweete songs, musik and gladnesse;
round the
other two armies sat at watch, at one and other side, besieg-
ing
it.
There was a fallow
field,
and
men
with their ploughs;
and a waving
cornfield,
where reapers were thrusting in
their sharp reaping-hookes.
On
grapes,
it
was a sunny vineyard with golden

faire maidens,
clusters of
where
and joyous, skiping youths

with
gathered the grapes, or danced to the musicke of the harpe.
On
man's
it
was a heard of oxen driv'n forth
to th' field,
lions seizing the leader of the

eies.
heard before the heards-
There was
also
upon
th' shield
a dance, such as Daedalus
devis'd for Ariadne,
where youths and maides mingled in
a gracefull motion holding each the wrist of the other.
ARGUMENT OF THE
And
near the outmost edge
lie
ILIAD.
295
plac'd that
mighty
river,
Oceanus.
Then he made
tinne which
a corselet brighter then the snnne;
also
a well-fitted helmet with golden crest;
and greaves of the
may
was
bee well hammered.

finished,
When
feet,
all
he plact the whole at Thetis'
who, as a hawke doth sweep downe from the sky,
darted adowne from snowy
Olympus bearing
XIX.
th'
armour
to
her Sonne.
Then
shrank
all
the rest of his troopes, dazled at sight thereof,

affrighted.
backe,
Achilles,
on
the
contrarie,
rejoyced in soule.
Shouting he went along the shore, and

chieftaines
straightway the
wounded
Tydeus'
and the
sonne, with
at
Ulysses and Atrides
gather to an assembly,
which
Atrides and
Achilles are reconciled,
latter hasteth
forth to take vengeance for his friend, his death, in despight

of Xanthus' prediction regarding his fate.
XX.
Jove doth permit the gods againe to ingage in the conflict,
and they range themselves on one or other

hero save for
side.
Then
at the
had Trojan ^neas, who engaged Achilles, fallen
hand of
this
th'
watchfullnes of Neptune.
Hector also attacks him, in order that he

brother Polydoru'.
may
avenge his
XXI.
Him
fierce
Apollo rescueth, but
Greeke,
many are slaine by th' who doth compell one part of the Troand doth force
in steed
jan armie to withdraw towards Troy,

a
second
part
into
the
Xanthus.
Here,
of
296

all
^
slayeth,
putting
to death, lie saveth twelve youtlis to offer as

tlie
a sacrifice on
funerall pjle of his friend.
Hee
savagely, Lycaon, also Asteropseus, whilst loudly deriding
the rive' god as unable to defend his friends.

so enrage the
This doth
Eiver that he riseth up, and, menacing dread-
fuly, doth attempt to
overwhelme Achilles;
off
but mighty
Yulcan protecteth him and wardeth
the danger.
The gods standing by engage

delighting Jove.
First
his speare, hitting the JEgis.
in single combat, greatly
Mars smote warlike Minerva with
ôt even
Jove's thunder-bolt
may subdue
ackers,
this,
however, and soone Minerva prostrated
him with a monstrous stone. Falling, he cover'd seven and he made a horrible crash. Then Minerva, exulting, taunted him as he lay prone; yet Yenus, pitying him, led him away, but with difficulty he collected* his spirits. White-arm'd Juno seeing them, incited Pallas ^to pursue
them.
She therefore hasted

were such
after
them and overthrowi'g

all
them, spake reproachfull words, wishing that

allies
Trojan
as they, since
Troy then might
easily
be
overcome.
Juno
smil'd
at these words,
but the Earth-
shaker spake to Apollo, reminding him of their unrequited

labour for the Trojans a long time before, and asking
for this hee
people.
is
if
a friend
and
ally of that treaty-breaking

it
However, he thought
not meet that they longe'

all th'
hold aloofe from combat, since

there in an unpremeditated
it
gods were ingag'd
strife.
Apollo answer'd, that

contend on the part of
was unwise for the immortalls
to
creatures of mortall frame.
At
this th' Farre-darter
his rustick sister

as th' bearer of
seeing
when Diana him, rebuk'd him, taunting him

withdrew;
but
an idle bowe, he did answer not a word.
ARGUMENT OF THE
At this
the spouse of Jove, taking
ILIAD.
297
up
the word, hurriedly
addrest her in great fury, ending
by plucking Diana's bowe from her shoulders and beating her (smiling meanwhile),
smiting her about the eares.
As a dove
arrows.
affrighted flieth
fled,
from a hawke,
so tim'rous
Diana weeping
without
staying to gather
up her dusty
Then Mercury,
the messenger of Jove, addrest Latona,
saying he would not contend with a spouse of cloud-compeling Sonne of lordly Saturn, because she would surelie
boast
amongst
the
immortalls
of
victory.
Thereupon
Latona took up the bow, gathered up the scattered arrows,
and follow'd Diana
to
Olympus, where she#had gone
to
make complaint
to Jove.
Latona found her belov'd child
seated close beside Jove,
who drew her

it
nearer smilingly
while he sooth'd and comforted her, asking

distressed
who had
see
her,
but hearing that
was Juno, said not a
word.
Apollo then repaired

to
to sacred
lUium, for the walls were
him
a care, but all other gods ascended to
Olympus.
Then Achilles pursued the Trojans with

descended in
all
great slaughter;
and Priam, observing him from one of Troies high towers,

hast to give orders to throw wide the gates
to let the flying Trojans enter,
but bade them haste to

in,
close
them when the
troopes
had come
lest Achilles,
following upon their heels, enter with them.
Covered with dust,

entered.
thirstie,
almost breathlesse,
they
Then had not Apollo mov'd Agenor,
the sonne of
AntenoT, to go against Achilles, the citty had fallen into

the hands of the sonnes. of the Greekes.
Guarding
his
person with his mightie shield, he caste his speare, smiting

the greave
upon one
shin;
but, not disabled, Achilles pur-
sued Agenor so hotly that Apollo must needs shelter him

with a mist, and remove him from danger.
Then
likening
298

to
LimseKe
Agenor, he beguiled Achilles
to
foUowe, with
the hope of overpowering one soe mighty, (not discerning

that a god led
him on) turning
his steps ever to'ard
River
Scamander.
XXII.
Meanwhiles, Hector remained without the walls, eager to
combat with Achilles.
Priam, seeing the
latter
advance
shining like Orjon's dog, that brilliant starre of autumn,

(bright indeed, but most balefuU, for the violent heat that
commeth
his feeble
haire.
thereafter) addresseth his sonne, stretching forth
hands with piteous action, and tearing his hoarie

laid bare her brest that
Then Hecuba
was
a source
of food and rest in his infancy.
But
all
availeth
not
a whit.
Like a huge serpent
that, fiU'd
itselfe
with rage, awaiteth
th'
coming of a man, coyling

doughty Hector,
filled
round and round,
so
with inexhaustible courage, leaning
that waightie shield against the projecting wall of th' tower,
mused in his soule as hee awaited the approach But when th' hero, shining like a blazing fire,
the sxmne,
of Pelides. or even as
commeth on like th' Helmet-shaker, Mars, a tremor seizeth him and he fleeth affrighted. Round and
round with swifte feete he doth
fly,
circling about Tl*oy's
walls thrice, Achilles close following:
a brave
man
is
leading th' race, a braver one followeth, since
'tis
not a
victim that
life
is
sought, nor a hide of a bull, but for th' very
(they run) of horse-breaking Hector.
This the gods
note, as they begin the fourth time to encircle the citty,
and
speake
together
concerning
the
fate
of
Hector.
Finally, Jove throweth into his golden scales long sleepe,

to
mark
to
which one
it
would
fall,
in one having plac'd

other.
Achilles' fate of death,
and Hector's in the
As
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
299
Jupiter lioldeth the scales up, poising them, Hector's f atall
day doth go swiftli down

then leaveth him.
to
Hades, and Phcebus Apollo
^
to stand, in
Minerva induceth Pelides

about face to face contest.
(a favourite brother) she
hope of bringing
Likening herselfe to Deiphobus
cometh nigh unto Hector, and

skill
perswadeth his minde to try his
with the Grecian.
Thus
deceived,
and thinking that one brother had beene
brave enough to come to his ayde, Hector retumeth, arous'd

to the strife;
yet attempting to
make a compact with

fall,
his
opposer, that, in the event of his
his
armour onelie
should
fall to Achilles,
but that his body should bee kept
for ransom.
This eager Achilles loudli derideth, asking
if
any league
would hold 'twixt men and lions, or according minde be found 'twixt wolve' and lambes, and avowing that no treaty of any sort could hold 'twixt them. Then, brandishing,
he sent forth his long-shadow' d speare, but Hector, bending ove', doth avoide the blow.
Quickly the goddesse,

it
bringing the weapon backe, placeth
in Pelides' hand.
Then Hector
hurl'd forth that mighty long shadow'd speare,

it;
smiting the center of that massy shield, nor miss'd
but
rebounding, flew far
off.
shielded Deip'obus to bring
Then Hector called to whitehim a long spear, but he was

as
not near him; and Hector perceaved in his minde that
Deiphobus was not present

without doubt the Fates
resolv'd to
o'
he supposed, and
felt that
death awaited him.
But hee
his flanke,
meet the end bravely.

his long
Drawing
sword that hung lowe at
like a soaring eagle that doth
sweepe downe upon a tender

But,
lambe or tim'rous hare, so Hector rush'd on Achilles.
brandishing his speare and holding his wrought shield so
300

went eagerly
for-
that 'twould warde a thrust, Achilles also
ward.
Like Hesperus the brazen tip of his speare did
glister, as
he stoode eying Hector's

it
faire person in order to
finde where best
would yeeld.
Then was
th' dreadfull
weapon hurl'd
the weasand;
swiftly,
and
it
lodg'd under the collar-bone,
where the necke and shoulder joyne, yet did not sever
therefore, he could yet speake.
Hee
pray'd
Achilles that his body might not be fed to Grecian dogs;

that he would receive brasse and gold in ransom therefor,
father and mothe' alike would gladly furnish, in order that
the funerall obsequies might bee performed.
But, nought
perswâded, Achilles avow'd that not ten or twentie times the
ransome he had in minde, not even gold should be accepted,

for nought could avert the destin'd
ignomy and shame.

his,
And
did,
Hector, sighing, said that knowing Achilles as he
he knew before he spake what fate was

wrath
gods
for th'
soule within the bosome of Achilles was iron;

said:
but hee
"]ây, reflect lest the
o'
th'
fall
on thee
for
my
sake on
th'
daye
when Death's hand
clutch thee,
when Paris and Phoebus Apollo shall strike thee downe." With words like these his soule descended to Hades, but Achilles still addrest the lifelesse body, bidding him
dye, that hee fear'd not his fate at Jove's hands, or
will of other gods.
by the
Then
the rest of the Greekes approacht as Achilles
pluckt the bloodie armour from the brest, having drawne

forth the speare, and all admir'd the forme and stature of
Hector, yet none pass'd by without inflicting a wound.
Then
Achilles spake to the Greekes, saying they

since it
now
might try the mind of Troy,

t'
was giv'n unto them

untill
split-
subdue mighty Hector, but nought should be done
Patroclus' funerall rites should be observ'd.
Then
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
301
ting each heel, he fastened leather thongs to them,
by which
his
he bound him to the chariot in such a way that
head
traird along, and dust defil'd his glorious locks.
Then
taking up the armour^ he mounted his chariot and lash'd

his steeds
on towards the shippes.

seeing him,
is
King Priam,
also
undone, and Queene Hecuba
lamenteth loud; but yet for a time the wife of Hector

occur'd, for
knew not what had

sent to her.
eares,
no messenger had beene
However, the sound of wailing did pierce her

summit, stooping to
and her heart interprets aright the measure of woe

to Illium.
It is as if its
its
meted out
fall,
were wrapt in flame.
But upon reaching the tower,
where the
men
stood crowded together, she saw Hector's

in the dust towards the Grecian vessells,
body being dragged
and
eies;
fell
swouning, and darknesse veyled her frightened
but reviving, she collected her soule, whilst 'midst
sobs she bewaiFd Hector's fate
and
hers,
and with bereaved
Andromache all the dames standing near wept and mourn'd.

XXIII.
Then
is
Achilles
is
wam'd by
the ghost of his deceased

rites of Patroclus,
friend to performe the funerall
and
this
done with many games (for valuable
prizes).
XXIV.
Afterward, Jove biddeth Thetis go unto Achilles and
demand
collected.
th'
body of Hector, sending Hermes forth
also
to conduct old
Priam unto him
to offer th' treasures
he
Priam's wife and belov'd sonnes plead with him
in vaine to restraine him, and, confiding in Jove's
omen
th' eagle cald
with them Percnos or Black Hunter
he
302

quest, but
went forth on that sad
Mercury was a great
comforter, and upheld Priam's courage and strength.
When
reached,
as they
th' gates in th'
bulwarkes behind the trench were
Hermes put
the
men (who were

feast,
th'
guard) asleepe
gates,
were gone aside to
and unbolting the
conducted the steeds and jnules through the campe untill

they reached the lofty tent of Achilles, that the Myrmidons
rear'd for their king, loppi'g the
fir
timbers, and covering
it
with a thatch
fencing
thickly.
it
o'
grasse
mowne
in the fragrant meades, and

off
with a great fence of staddles cut

well sperr'd
and
set
fir,
The gate was
up with a
single
which three men onelie might shoot save Achilles.

Achilles by the knees, and supplicate
faire^haired mother, also
This
Mercury op'd for old Priam, bidding him enter and embrace
him by
his father, his
by
his infant sonne, that he
would
accepte the ransome for his sonnets body; but, reminding
him
of th' impropriety of a god overtly ayding mortalls,
tooke his depart and returned to Olympus.
Priam then
steeds,
leapt
downe from the
chariot, leaving his
mules and chariot in Idseus'
care,
and entering the
tent unobserved as Achilles finisht his repast, clasped his
knees,
and kissed those dreadfuU man-slaught'ring hands;

man, who, murthering
unto another, and
Achilles wondered
and
a
as a dread sense of guilt seizeth a
man
in
his
owne country,
fleeth
so
astonish' d
spectators
stand round,
(and they that stood by, looking one at other) seeing Priam.
He, however, spake quicklie and brought forth

request, recalling to Achilles'
his
minde
his
owne father
of
the
same hoary
age,
who
awaited hopefully his living
Sonne's retume, whilst he, once father of fifty brave sonnes,
had scene many

his best belov'd,
kil'd
by the Greekes; and now. Hector,

their citty
who defended
and themselves.
ARGUMENT OF THE
ILIAD.
sire,
303
was slaine by Achilles' hand, and he, his

foTc'd
tO'
had beene
do what no mortal
man might
endure
kisse the
hand that had bereav'd
his life.
At
these words, a desire to

th'
weepe seized Achilles, and
as
one writh'd upon
ground bemoaning his Sonne's
fate,
the other thought with regret of his distant father and

of his friend Patroclus.
lifted
But
after a time, Achilles, rising,
up the old man, bidding him be seated (for he respected his hoary haires) and he exhorted him to let
sorrow sink to rest in his minde, saying:
"Chill griefe
is
uselesse, for no mortall can escape wretchednesse,
and none
one
save the gods are free
from
evill.
Two
caskes, the
containing
threashold.
evills,
the other good gifts, stand beside Jove's

these hee sendeth forth mingled good
From
and
ill.
Man
falleth
now upon
is
one, againe
upon another;
sorrow, calamity, nimble mischance that hath soe swifte a

foot,
pursue him, nor
he honour'd of gods or men.
Peleus, indeed, receyv'd golden gifts
^riches
and wealth,
put
yet an
ill
fate has fallen
upon him in that he had one

life,
it
only Sonne, who, with slight care of his owne
in jeopardie dailie before Illion, in despite of the knowledge
of his short span, which even his goddesse mother might
not lengthen.
Of
thee,
also,
have wee heard that thy
wealth at a former time did exceed many, and that from

lower Phrygia to Hellespontus on the north thy borders then reached;
thee,
but
now
the gods have sent bane upon

citty.
and warre and slaying of men do encompasse thy

arise (for
Yet
thou canst by mourning and griefe availe

evills
nought, nor restore him) ere further

thee."
come upon
Priam indeed thought
it
not well that he should be
seated or give place untill Achilles had granted his prayer.
304
This provok'd a hasty reply, but at length the presents
were brought
also,
in,
save two cloakes,

left to place
which were
a well
woven tunicke
Pelides bade
on the body.
Idaens enter
and be
seated,
but he kept the corpse from
aged Priam's
sight, lest his
mourning
cries
should so
move
life,
him
that hee could not stay his hand, and, taking his
displease
Jupiter;
then,
giving orders that th' female
attendants should wash and annoint th' body, waited without, and,
when
this
was accomplish'd, himselfe tooke
it
up, put
plac'd
it
it
upon the
litter,
and with
his
companion's helpe,
on the beautifull
chariot, at the
same time making
moan
fo Patroclus because of the deed.

intO'
Afterward he retum'd
the tent,
and seating himself
on a couch over against Priam, urg'd him to take food, since

his
Sonne was plac'd on a bier and he could return to lUium
on the morrow.
He
citeth
to
him Niobe's
case,
who
faire
moum'd
the losse of twelve childre' destroy'd by Apollo

th'
and Diana because she compar'd herselfe unto

cheek'd Latona,
who
(she said)
was the mother unto but

Yet, although overcome
two, while she had borne
many.
with griefe, Niobe was mindefull of food.

wise be
this
"Let us
like-
now
attentive to our repast, then shalt thou lament
thy Sonne, conveying him to Troy, and thou shalt
bewaile
him with many
teares."
So saying, they prepar'd the repast quickly, drank wine

together amicably, ate of th' roasted fleash, et csetera.
Then
Priam, opposite Pelides,

to the gods;
much
admir'd him, comparing him

at
and Achilles in tume marvell'd
Dardanian
Priam, seeing his amiable expression and hearing him as
he convers'd.
satisfied,
But when they had
gaz'd untill they were
the old
man
begg'd that Achilles would send him
to his rest.
ARGUMENT OF THE
Achilles willingly granting
ILIAD.
th' request,
30&
him
he and his
th'
herald had couches prepared for
them upon
porch,
while Pelides went

lay f aire Briseis.
to rest within the tent,
and beside him
to
But Mercury slept not, lead Priam away safely.

hastily,
for he was devising a
meanes
Therefore he descended from
Olympus
wakenM
him, standing beside him, arous'd
Idseus noiselessly and assisted
him
to
yoke the steeds and
the mules, then went with them through the campe; nor did hee leave them untill they reach'd the eddying Xanthus
begotten by undying Jove.
and saffron-hued
Then he ascended Olympus,, morn was diffused ore th' earth. Then
they drove the steeds toward the citty (and the mules bearing the body), but none saw them save Cassandra,
wha
like unto golden Yenus, ascended Pergamus, and looking
out acrosse the plaine, beheld them approaching, and soone
assembled the people; soe they met them near the gates
coming in with the body, nor was there a man nor woman^
left in the citty, so generall
was the mourning.
First
came
his wife
and venerable mother, plucking out

th'^
their haire as they touch'd Hector's head, whilst all
spectators wept.
They, indeed,
tears, if
all
that day would have
moum'd and
shed
aged Priam had not bade them
cease their cries, and give
way unto
th' chariot till
he had
borne him home; then might they weepe untill they were
saciated with mourning.
Therefore, they stoode afare
off,
and, carrying
him
to th' illustrious pallace, they placed

it,
him
on
th'
ornamented bed; and plac'd singers beside
leaders
of the dirge,
who sang mourning
ditties whilst the
women
made
responsive moanes.
Among them
his wife
beganne
thus, while her
hands held Hector's head:
306
"O
liusband, hast thou died
young
in yeares, whilst I
am
is
left a
widow ra the
pallace?
And
beside myseKe, here

ill-fated,
thy infant sonne to
whpm
I have given birth,
whO', I
doubt not, will nere attain to manhood's strength,

its
for ere that, our citty will topple to

tion.
compleat destrucits
Certainely thou,
who
wert ever
its
defender, and
didst keepe frora. losse or injury
venerable wives and
infant children, art
They will be carried captive to the shippes, nor shall I escape. But thou, O my sonne, shalt perchance accompany me where thou must performe
no more.
unworthy
tasks,
toyling for a mercilesse lord;
or else
some one of the Greekes (whose

his sonne
father, brother, or even
thy father
thy tender hand, that he
may have slaine) may grasp with force may cast thee headlong from some
life out.
tower and dash thy
Tor true
it
is,
thy father
many an
acte like unto

tO'
this
hath here perform' d.
He
to
never might be gentle
his foes, or leave
an enemy
go unpunish'd;
but,
by
his hand,
many
a Greek hath beene

It
is
made
to seize the earth
with his
set teeth.
for this
cittie.
the people so lament in every nooke and angle of th'
Hector, thou hast cans' d untold calamity, and grief

all,
unutterable unto us
most to thy loving parents and
to
me.
Bitter, aye,
bitter is
my
endlesse griefe, for thou

stretch out thy
didst not
upon thy couch when dying,
hands to me, nor speake
my
name, or give
me any word
of prudent counsell, to comfor'
me
long yeares to come."
Thus speaking, with

lamented, and with her
floods of teares. Hector's fayre wife

all
the other
women moaned.
ARGUMENT OF THE
(lôte.)
ILIAD.
prophetic soul,
307
Andromaclie, in
lier
knew
and
her owne fate and doth foretell that of their child.
This
is
is
told in the :^neid,
which I
also translated,
most pathetick and tender.
Ever monming, the
childe in her heart, in her sad exile, keepeth pace
with other children, and when she wrapt that other

smiling babe within the cloake her loving hands had
wrought soe
said,
skilfully with threades of rich gold, she his
"Astyanax would have beene like in age;
hands, his haire, his smiling eies like thine."
And
every mother, in
all
the centuries since that sad day,
doth sorrow with like paine from secret sympathie

that mothers knowe.
The
lines
which containe
this
moumefull
story are thrice given in
my
workes.
is
The
most
sublimity of love and sorrow such as hers
wonderf ull, and
is
excell'd
by nothing
in our language
except the stories of sacred history.

lot
Even Hecuba's
hands of their
was much
lighter, for she died at th'
captors.
But
to retume.
Now
"O
cometh aged Hecuba in
place,
and thus doth make
her moane:
Hector, thou wert dearest of
my
sons,
and truly of
life,
the gods thou wert the care, not alone in thy

in this destiny of death.
fell
but also
For
all
my
other sonnes
who
at
into Achilles' hands,
were sold beyond the sea
Lemnos, Samos, or at Imbrius; but thou, though he hath tane thy precious life, and daily dragged thee round
Patroclus' tomb, liest within our palaces as fresh and beauti-
fuU of forme and every
feature, as if Apollo, with his silver
bow, had reav'd thee but to-day of joyous life."
308
Thus speaking, aged Hecuba did cease her vehemont

laments, while
all
the
women
join'd in teares
teairs,
and moanes.
heavy sighes
Helen came
third^
weeping' sad
breaking the wordes, and said:
"O
Hector, thou wert a beloved brother, as Alexander
th' god-like
man
is
my
husband.
Kind
hast thou and
my
father ever beene (and here have I dwelt twenty yeares),
but
th' others altogether despise
me, and there
is
none other
There-
in th' breadth of Illium
who
all
will
be kind to mee.
fore I
must mourne, not

selfe."
alone for thee, but for
my
unhappy
Ceasing to speake they mingled one long cry.
Then
Priam bade them bring

pyle, assuring
to
Troy the wood for the funerall

to feare untill
them that tkey had nought

th'
twelve daies should have expired, for
word of Achilles
th'
was pledg'd that no ambuscade should lay in wait for

Trojans untill
th' funerall rites
were concluded.
space
Therefore, wdth both mules and oxen, for th'

of nine days did they bring the
quantities.
When, however,
th' pyle,
th'
wood from the mount in tenth morn brought light

wood.
unto mortalls, they carried forth noble Hector and placed
him upon
round
and applied
fire to th'
But when
th'
rosy finger'd
Morn
appeared, they gather'd
pile
of illustrious Hector;
and whe'
all
had
all
assembled together, they extinguish'd with darke wine

the pile that the
fire
had, ravening, taken hold on; and

eies,
the brothers and companions of Hector, with tearfull gather'd together his white bones.
beautifull urn of gold,
These they plac'd in a

in
which they forthwith deposited

it
a deepe grave, heaping on
numerous sharpe
stones.
This,
strict
however, they did hastily, and kept constant and

watch,
lest
the Greekes should
make an
attack too soone.
ARGUMENT OF THE
But when they had heap'd up
feasted
th'
ILIAD.
309
tomb
properly, they
assembled in Jove-nurtur'd Priam's lofty pallaces, and
on a splendid banquet.
rites of the great steede-
Thus were the solemn funerall

breaking Hector performed.
And
this
compleats Homer's lUiads, but the story of
some of the great heroes
may
be found in
my
workes, for
I wrote out, not only his Odysses in the great Cypher, but
th'
JEneid of the noble Yirgil.
Thus can you peruse

to
th'
conclusion, and followe the wily Grecian Ulysses,
mighty sonne of lovely Yenus that she bore

Trojan ^neas.
and th' Anchyses
The marginall
notes of our
to
work which
translation
you now are using, hath an argument

of th'
my
^neid, while a Latine w^rke entituled
De Augmentis
As
in this
Scientiarum will give ayde upon th' other.
work, you doubtlesse will note that favorit partes are

enlarged, yet as
will not
it
lendeth assistance to th' discypherer,

/
it
be any disadvantage or hindrance.

this labour to
In confident hope, I have intrusted

hands and
your
am
contente.
FRANCIS
ST.
ALBAN.
FEANCIS
BACOIsr.
DB AUGMBNTIS.
1624.
Where, hj a
letters,
slighte alteration of the
common
o'
Italicke
the alphabets of a bi-literate Cyphar having the

letters that
is
two forms are readily obtained (instead
cut out because I feare anie eye might reade what
hid
in Cyphar, had such as are scene heere beene employed in an example) in every booke I send forth I use, for
complete yet somewhat scattered rules or directions for

another of different scope, this or other similar Cyphers,
choosing,
you observe, one

state matter,
it
in
which there can be trusted
any great
such that
and anything we holde of a nature
requireth a wisdome greater, I doubte nought,
than wise King Salomon's to finde the purpose thereof,

I
mean
the historic of
my
birth,
and
also
my
brother's,
for I have written both in this secret storie.
We alwaies prize most a thing that hath longest
evaded
our pursuite, for a man's nature ever hath some dregs of

wild waies in despight of ages of clarifying or racking.
There
is
somewhat of the hunter about
all
men:
quietly
waiting untill th'

halloo
chace.
game be
scented, but rushing forth with

his horrne as
more piercing then
hee joyneth the

:
Thus pursute becometh
universall
but should Art

to follow in
teach
my
most constant and watchfull hunter
perfect silence, hee shall alone unkennell th' skulkinge

foxe, beare, triumphantly, the prize homewards,
and enjoie
honours by no one shared.
Mine may bee

310
stil'd simila',
IN
DE AUGMENTIS.
methode
311
in fact, for th' honour of this
us'd whenere
secret mater, of whatsoever kinde, is
put forth, glorifying
for
all
futurity one that should finde this
cannot crowne
tale,
any brow save mine.

So blind are men, that I
as in the playes to
tell
heerewith a pretty
my
Margaret, write out historic, give
lines in all kinds of poetrie that I
have in anie place found

but no eye
will
easy or pleasant, in so plain sight, you, indeede, will find

light'
work divesting them

th'
o'
manie
disguises,
save our
owne espyes a word or

for, or
signe.
Thus
you
doubt
find
shrewdnesse they boast soe great, but can
men
what none looke
pursew a path not ent'red
upon, neither sought?
I masqued manie grave secrets in
my
poems which I
have publisht,
now
as Peele's or Spenser's,
th'
now
as
my
who
owne, then againe in
name
of authours, so cald,
plac'd workes of mixt sort before a reading world, prose
and poetry.
work
rather
To Robt. Greene did I entruste most of that his name appeared as authour: therein you
it
may
finde a large portion that belonging truely to the
realme of poetrie, would wel grace verse, yet

then seeme f aire matter for
againe used.
it.
did not
As
plaies
some
parts
were
Pull
off
ev'n
now
th' outside, disguising
my
story.
am
the rightfuU heire to th' thronfe, since th' blood of

is
King Henry
any Tudor.
I,
running f these veynes
th'
same
as in
If the late
Queene could claime

issue,
th' throne,
her earliest flower of royall

it
was by
all
th' like right
goes without saying
at
any and
times
heir-
aparent to proud England's wide realm.
S12
But the day

hope of
one
of justice having gone, past long since all
my
atchieving glory or fame, as the ruler of th'
realme of England, Ireland, Wales, France,

portio' of the later
was ours
as formerly
all
also
our colonies in
th' regions of the globe, fro' remote East to a remoter
West.
cis'
Never
shall
th'
crowne
th'
rest
on Prince Fran-
loftie
brow; never shall
great throne of this
land bear up the sonne to the so-stiled
Virgin
Queen,
these
wedde' wife of Robt., Earl of Leicester!
Can
things be and not incite in one's heart a wish of shewing
the truth to future generatio's?
Can one
of such a noble
subject,
nature bee contente to bee but a
common
who,
knowing that by
th' parts
th' virtue of
kingly birth, royall power
should come, doth feele assur'd that hee hath noe lacke in
and endowme'ts
all
that hold regall swaie doe

th'
require? and who having within such impulses of

like patriarchal care for his
god-
owne people would

all
willinglie
give his time, his
mony, labour, or
a Prince's
is,
power
at
anie time gone by, that yet shall be, or
may, or may
have performed for his subjects?
For
holde
this reaso'
do I labour for men's elevation and

Science.
communion with
As knowledge doth
in-
crease, th' pleasure I take is greatlie increas'd also,
and I
see here before
mee
a boundlesse province over
which our
raign
may
neve' cease.
Th' secret story heere told doth
fully set our
wrongs before future reader': unto such do
wee turne
for judgement.
This work,
however,
was intended for ayde upo'
another Cyphar, and next

write out the argume't
also,
o' th'
we
will give keyes after
we
work.
This
is
Homer's verse
title is:
and doth take rank with
his Eliads.
The
ARGUMENT OF THE
ODYSSES.
313
THE ODYSSES.
The opening scene

fayre young sprite
distant
is
laid in
an
ile
where dwelt the

Th'
ile farr-
th'
nymphe, Calypso.
lovelie, indeed,
from men or gods was
and yet quite

ex-
solitary.
It can bee well scene, therefore, without
plaineing, faire, sweete Calypso wished to caste a spell over

th' guest,
whose ship was wrecked, soe that he must needes
remaine.
Seven yeares he was thus restrained, whilst hee daily

longed to sayle awaie from fayrest land of Ogygia to that
farre-away rugged Ithica where his wife, awaiting
his
retume, shed
entertained
many
a teare.
so
However
th' faire
nymphe
him with
much
kindnesse (and having be-
come the mother

wanderer nere
cruell action;
of two sonnes, earnestly besought the
to depart,) to leave
would have beene a

mastereth
and indeed love
so
her
sea,
after
Odysseus findes meanes once againe of going to
having
ayded him as Mercuric gave
orde',
nor
day nor night

Grief e doth
life,
bringeth surcease and end to sorrowe.

lie
final-
drive Atlas' daughte' to throw
away her
for she
plung'd into the ocean and was drown'd.
II.
In
and
th'
lie
o'
Ithica the principall
men, seeing the
vast throng of suters urging

faithfull spouse this
is
upon Penelope, the prudent

to reach,
wanderer soe longed
(even as
seen, choosing her before

if
hope of immortality,
which Calypso promised him

in
onely he would remaine
Ogygya,) holde a councill.
By
th'
advice of th' gods.
314

is
and by their instruction a plann

vessell of
made
to fit out the
Telemachus and send him forth to bring home and husband.

as
this lost sire
Minerva accompanies him in guise of Mentor

and
protecto',
guide
and
first
they
saile
unto sandy Pylos to get
advice, as th' sage

^N'estor,
who
reigned over that wide land, aged
had great wisdome.

III.
Here hee
is
told to go to the
magnanimou' king
o^
Sparta, Menelaus.
IV.
Of him not meerelie are they pitably, having beene made favoured
nificent
pallace,
received
most hos-
guests at his
mag-
Telemachus,
informed
forsooth, receiving
much
kindnesse from f ayre Helen, being th' sonne to the wilyest
man
that foUow'd her into Phrygia to avenge her rape,

also of his sire's
in truth they are
shippewracke
on Orgygia, of
th'
waye
in
which Atlas' winsome daughter

efforts to escape.
had soe long prevented any
V.
Odysseus had
so's
now
finisht th' vessell,

it
with faire Calyp-
assistance,
furnish'd
well,
donn'd a choice robe
presented by her, bade the
on
th'
voyage.
nymph farewell and set out During seventeene days fayre weather and
it
a favouring saili'g breeze prevayled, but on th' next
became tempestuous and

Throwi'g
th' sea,
his vessell soone
began
to sinke.
finds
garment he cast himselfe into and preserv'd from death by th' care of Pallas, land on the Phseacian shores.
offe the clinging
ARGUMENT OF THE
VI.
ODYSSES.
815
Here being
ter, as
fo"und then
hj Nausicaa,
th'
kinges daugh-
he doth
lie
wrapt in soothing
VII..
sleepe,
He
by her
is
led to th' court, cloth'd and rendered
fit
to take
part as beseemeth his position, and hospitablie entertained

father.
VIII.
At
festive
gathering,
as
the
costlie
meats
give
and
an
wines are plac'd before them, Odysseus
doth
acompt of those wanderings since the

counting
situation.
all
fall
of Troie, redifficile
his
narrow escapes from manie a
IX.
Therein spake he of those disastrous chances,
by
which he nearly
th' Lotu'-eaters,
lost his life; told his
experience
among
how
the sailors longed to remaine in th'
land where
Alcinous,
dilate the
it
seemeth ever an afternoon.

interessed in th' recitall, bade Odysseus
much
he
sl
storie,
and he ran
meat.
it
thorowe even to that
momente
as
sat at
He
told th' storie of further
adventures
th' Cyclops,
stay on th'
He
of Goats; sailing on to finde
having twelve of his
men
with him, our travsix of his
eller enco'nt'red
Polyphemus, in his cave, where
sturdy followers were eaten even while th' hero stood

there, nor could hee
and
th' others
have escapt a
like fate
had not Odyseus made

Grecian wine.
giant's eye
th' great
monsterr intoxicated with
Without delay Odysseus burned out the

th'
which occupied
optick.
middle of his face, for he
had but a single
Render'd helpeles thereby Poly-
phemus could not
staye their departure.
316

X.
of
They then ster'd westwards, coming first to th' Isle The wind-god gave them the windes in ^ôlus.
hence
th'
a bag,
close,
wand'rings might
have come to a
had not
th' inquisitive sailours
open'd the bag and

single
allow'd
severall
to
escape.
Having but a
wind
remaineing and that being westerly, they were swept farre

awaie towards the setting sunne.
They sawe Canibals
which eate each

gones, and
other, calFd th' Antropophagi, or Lsestry-
men whose
heads grow beneath their shoulders.

to the iland of
At
length
comming
Circe, th' en-
ha'tresse, they are detained a yeare, as th' spells Circe
threwe over the
men
chang'd them to swine, but by
th'
use of Moly, an herb that Mercury furnisht him, they

"were at once restored to their naturall forme.
Circe,
howher,
ever, even though shee longed to keepe Odysseus

assisted in
by
manie ways when he
set
out againe.
XI.
Soone they came

visited the
to
the
Oceanus,
swift
flowinge;
Cimmerii that dwell in pitchy night nor ere
behold
th' day.
Thence he went
seer, Teiresias,
into the nether-world
and inquired of the

Jove's wrath doth
his farre-away native countrie,
how hee might reach Ithica. The seer tells him
bume
strongly against our bold wan-
derer because of his injury to the gigantic Polyphemus,

as he was sonne to one of th' gods, Poseido'.
When
this
was
said
it
made
his
the blood in his vaines flow icylie, yet

saile,
the seer told him whither he must
in orde' that he
might reach
home.
ARGUMENT OP THE
XII.
ODYSSES.
317
Upon
his
waye backe
acrosse
th'
westerne
sea,
he
againe visited Circe

advice, counseling
who
furder asisted him, gave
him
their
him
well regarding dangers he would
meete.
Passing
th' place in
which
th' Sirens
make
sweetest melodic (that they
may
cause th' destruction of
the passers by, luringe them from a safe channell so that

their vessell splits
on a sunken rock ere one can see dan-
ger) he ordered his companions to binde
him
fast to th^
its
mast, so that hearing the musicke and feeling
charme^
heard
he could not
if
he
desir'd, follow
them.
The
sailors
not one sound, as Odysseus had giv'n them a charge, ere

reaching the spot, all eares should these songs
now be made
deafe to
by being well
filled.
So one dread
peril is passed;
then those more awefull
dangers, Charybdis on one side and Scilla on th' other,

threat them.
Six of the sailors, dashed on th' sharp rocks,
were
kill'd,
while
all
narrowlie escapt the Maelstrom that
doth sucke shippes downe to the lower world.

Yet, clearing these, they once more set their course to
go to
farr-ofP Ithica,
coming nexte
in
to Thrinatia,
th' sun-god,
an island
kept the
in the western sea in
which Helios,
famous
cattell.
Having
remembrance
his instructio's
that Teiresias
had particularly impress'd on him, Odysseus
attempted to passe by with speede and avoide the tempting creatures, yet everie sailor was fuly determined to
land; so whilst Odysseus was unmindfull of his men, or
this purpose, as
he lay lock'd
i'
the armes
o'
Sleep, they
hastily killed these cattell
or a
number
of the'.
Because
of
it
Zeus, angrie and revengefull, sent his dreaded thun-
der-bolt
and wrecked the
vessell killing all save Odyseus,.
318
preserving
him because
of his promise to Pallas
Athene of
alreadie to
his safe arrivall in Ithica.
Hee
also relateth to
Alcinous
^that
known
his,
the reader
th' stay at
Ogygia, and Atlas' daughter's offer

bliss
of immortality;
how no
could bee like
could hee
see his native land, th' wife of his bosome, Telemachus, his
dear sonne, and his olde servants.

XIII.
This moveth King Alcinous to give him a shippe
and send him forth on the homeward voyage. This, d then, was straightway accomplish' King, Queene, as
well as gentle
young
princesse gave
him manie
fit
rich robes
and ornaments,
costly articles of all kinds
for th' ran-
some of a great king,
to carry to Ithaca that his travaile
and toyles be rewarded.

Sailing with an auspiciou' gale th' voyage was brief
and very soone
th'
harbour close by commeth to viewe.
At dawne they
driv'n
enter to sounds that the joyous waves
when
by merry
gales ever do make, yet not a note

is
may
lieth
reach an eare which
seeled
by Sleepe; the wand'rer
lockt in th' dreamelesse slumber of th' dead,

into th'
and they put

yet under
haven of Phorcys where their and
vessell lieth at rest

is
without anchor or stay of any kinde, while he

th' spell,
th'
Phseacian sailors taking him up verie
gently conveye both
him and
th' vast treasures to shore.
Rowing
leaving
th'
thither and returning softly, they disembark
the stores given
him by Alcinou', Arete, or E"ausicaa, and him by the shore with soft sleepe on the senses,
owne
land.
still
treasure heapt at his side, they proceed at once to
returne unto their
"When
th' sleeper
waketh he doth
think that
it is
ARGUMENT OF THE
a place not familiar, since
th' port,
lie
ODYSSES.
819
cannot at present discern
Minerva having
keepe
his
caste a mistie cloud

secret;
upon every-
thing, to
presence
but after a short
periode, shee,
comming unto him and
dispelling th' mists

th'
sheweth him
th' olive-trees, that
cave of
nymphs on
th'
slope of th' hil,
and the nimphes weaving their beauteous
robes of purple hue, also loftie olde E'eritos with his bosky
sides
above
this.
He
recogniz'd his beloved Ithaca then, and sta'ding
near, th' goddesse spake thus unto him:
"Thou
art re-
turned to Ithaca because
I,
Mine'va, ever watchfuU guided
thy waye, guarding thy
life
where ever thou wert
lest
thy eager enemie slaye thee.
Therefore wait with a
patiente spirit and beare all th' evill that shall

thee, for the
come
to
day of the great vengeance

ayding, hastilie they
is
at
hand."
The goddesse
gifts o' Alcinous,
now
co'ceal'd the
Arete and
fairest Nausicaa, in th' cave
fast
by
a streame of living water flowing into th' sea.
Palla' then touch'd Odysseus with the
soe that old age possess'd his

stiff
wande she carried, form, making the limbes

and wither'd and
caste a begger's
and bent, whilst
his face lookes old
the abundant f aire hair hardly can reach to his shoulders,
and
sparselie doth shewe.
Then Athene
Eumseus,
th'
wallet on his bended backe, shewed a well
marked path
leading
up
to th' dwelling of
swineherd, and
bade
th' traveler
proceed to that place.

I
XIV.
Obedient to this mandate

house. soe
Odysseus
approacht
th'
As he ent'red the courtyard, dogs bark'd with much furie the swineheard went to see what caus'd the
confusion, then catching sight sodainelie of th' wanderer,
330

lie
quicklie
doth bring him
in,
biddeth him such welcome
as th' house afforded spreading a skin for a couch, saving

as
wine
is
drunke:
I dwell
still
"Though
in this happie country

th'
it
is
not
now
and
like dales
th' friend
gone by, for now
young
chiefes govern,
still
whose love guarded us doth
staye
away
from
his native land.
Th' wife wasting her faire beautie
in grief e doth looke for his returne, watching whilst others

feast
and
sleepe, yet for
my owne
part I fear that he will
fail to
reach th' countrie of his nativity."

th' stranger inquir'd
Then
what name bore a wanderer
soe lov'd.
Assuring th' faithfuU old servitor that Odys-
seus was yet alive, but fearing at present to
make himselfe
th'
suspected hee narrateth instead,

d'rings claiming to have
some advent'rous wan-
had thereby knowledge of
long absente Odysseus, saying his vast wealth of treasures
was
at that
very time to be scene in Thesprotia, for

th'
th'
king of that land had shewn him

it
same and
o'
told
him
was the treasure of
th'
wand'ring king
Ithaca.
He
moreover
is
ready to take oth that a yeares course
of th' sunne will not bee ended ere Odysseus
come home
but faithfuU old Eumseus cannot have faith in his promises,
since an
ôlian had
told once before of something
similar, saying hee, himselfe, at distant lie of Crete
had
sea,
come upon
th'
Ithacan as he prepar'd to go out to

th' vessels
with Idomeneus' help maki'g whole
broken by
storm and tempest, and quite assur'd that he would gain

Ithaca
Eumaeus for
But he came not, and summer waned. his owne part wish'd all Hellen's kinne were no more, ere Odysseus spent his fortune, or gave soe much strength, soe many yeares of his yoimg manhood, to
ere
avenge
th' insulte.
ARGUMENT OF THE
XV.
ODYSSES.
321
Meanwhile Pallas Athense doth appear

in
to
Telemachus and Pallas

daye of
Sparta,
as
hee lieth sleeplesse on his ivory conch.

light
fill'd
glist'ning
his
whole room,
said to
him
that he
must returne
to Ithaca, for th'
th' great
vengeance was very near, 'gainst
th' suitors for
despoyling faire Ithaca in th' long absence of Odysseus,
nor need he fear them, altho' their heralds lying in ambush

awaited his ship's appearance to take his
life,
for th' gods
were watching and guarding the sonne
to
Odysseus; no
harm should
befall.
Shee
also
bade him go to Eumaeus'
dwelling where he would be tolde what he should do.
Acordingly, on the morrowe hee bids Menelaus and

sweete Helen farewell and the Queene presenteth a robe
her owne hands had wrought to give his bride on the day
that his nuptialls bee celebrated, asking
him
in return to
have [her] in his kind remembrance.
From
Sparta he once more went in to sandie Pylos and
told Kestor
and others what he would
do.
soothesayer
(who having slayne some person was now dreading pur-
named Theoclymenus beggeth Telemachus to have sufficient kindnesse to take him upon this voyage to Ithaca.
suit)
Setting
saile,
the shores of his native land were in due

last
time to bee discern'd; at

all
they are gained and sending
of th'
company
Eumseus,
to the city
th' herd.
he alone hasten'd quickly to
find olde
XVI.
Great was the joye of Eumseus beholding him
for,
noe tidings having come from him, Eumseus had no
hope of seeing him againe.

friend
if suters
Inquiring immediatelie of his
are yet crowding
upon
th'
land and maki'g
322

all,
themselves lords of
"or hath
my
mother, accepting
one in marriage,
left Ulysses' bridall
bed
to
become
th'
possession of cobwebs, for lacke of other or proper fur-
niture?"
But
his
kind friend eas'd his heart by telling him that
th' host of sutors
were yet kept
at bay, noble
Penelope
re-
being constant in her hope that waiting would bee
warded by
fruition o' this love.
After a time, when Telethere,
machus perceiveth a stranger

to allowe
he maketh inquiry
having
concerning his designes and porte, saying that hee feareth
him
to visit his father's palace, th' sutors

ill.
much power now, might treat him

seus, vexed,
Whereupon Odys-
doth himself e put in a word and say

suitors,
"Ah, these
where we go?
why do we heare of them no matter Do ye yield to them mllinglie or do th'

Telemachus, or hast thou a quarrel
suffer' d
people hate thee,
with thy kinsmen, that thou hast thus
them
to
overrun this whole country?"
But Telemachus hasten'd

with
th'
to answere:
"I have no feud

free will yield to
my
kindred, nor doe I of
my owne
usurping crowd, but they have swarm'd in upon us
like bees;
and what would you? one can scarce prevaile
against soe manie."
As soone
th' city,
as
Eumseus was gone upon a commission

goddesse.
to
Odysseus saw a very bright figure standing before
him and recognized the
She bade him prepare

himself
for his great vengeance, to
make
machus, and proceede to his palace.

over
known to TeleThen she passed

hue they
him a wande which changed

and gave
Ulysses' figure to beau-
tiful proportiones,
his cheekes the rosy

th' rich
had had in youth, while over

long lockes yellow as gold.
garments hung his
ARGUMENT OF THE
Telemachus,
ODYSSES.
323
much
surprised, asked Ulysses:
"Who
is
this standing here looking like to
one of the bright gods?"

asseverating
Then Ulysses embract his dear sonne and wept

that he was, verilie, Ulysses.
But Telemachus could not yet trust these happy words and doubting said: "But men pass not thus from age to
youth,
riches
from weaknesse, from want, povertie or

and strength."
sire,
squalor, to
Ulysses
made othe
that
it
was Tele-
machus'
affirming, "If I indeed be not Ulysses, none
other will ever
come
to the coast of Ithaca."
Noe
sire
longer might Telemachus doubt.

lifted his
Embracing
his
like
he
voyce and together they lamented

th'
birds
from which
young have beene

all
stolen,
even like
vultures or eagles, and Ulysses asked:

these suitors of
whom
speake?"
recko'd
"How many are And Telemachus

scores
made answer: "They may be
by
and what
could two doe against such a number?"
'1i Jove and
mighty Minerva lende us ayde

ses,
it is
sufficient," said Ulys-
"and better to dye fighting for our right than to yield
weaklie."
Th' sutors in
th'
meantime, who had waited in ambush
to slay the prince
on
his
homeward waye, much vex'd

returned to
about the failure of

Ithaca.
all their subtile designes,
Penelope thereupon reproved Antinous who was

th'
one of
number.
his experiences at evening,
Eumseus came to report but th' stranger was againe

beggar.
in th' guise of
a wand'ring
XVII.
When morn came

home
of Odysseus and
intreated
againe,
Telemachus went
he
to
the
shortlie after
set out, his sire
Eumseus
to
permit him (Odysseus) to accom-
n
324

there.
panj him
On
a
th'
waye,
as
they rest by the side
of a fountaine,
goatheard,
hight Melanthius, revil'd
Odysseus soe
his hand.
much
pass'd
that with utmost difficulty he staied
Then they
onward
to th' citty
and
as
they came
to the pallace gate
an aged hound rose to greete Ulysses
but falling back expired.
Then Odysseus wept when young, swift and

"Like
th'
saying:
"Was
this a
comely hound
strong?"
wind for speed and nothing ever escap'd him
in th' chase" said Eumseus.
Upon
entering the vast hall Odysseus soliciting an alms
of Antinous entreatingly said:
"Thou
dost have the ap-
pearance of gen'rous royalty.
Give, and thou shalt winne
great fame, for Jove shall surelie rewarde thee and I shall
speake of thy bounty both near and far."
Then he
said
he also had great abundance untill Jove tooke away his wealth and drove him to
suffered
ills
^gypt and
tel.
to
Cyprus where hee
noe tongue might

saying:
But Antinous strucke
him on the backe

Cyprus or
to depart."
to
"Yerily thou mayst go to a
an
^gy
pt thou likest not if thou haste not
who stoode looking on prayed him to beware, reminding him that immortall gods wander ofte i'
But
th'
rest
lowly guise.
Afterward
th' suitors
go into
th' hall
and
Odysseus dropping his walle' beside him sate in

waye.
XVIII.
th' doore-
Ere long a publike beggar, named by

since
th' suters Irus,
he was ofte a messenger emploied by them, commeth,

to-
and standing to begg, joyes
see Odysseus in a like or

all
worse condition, for miserie wisheth
may
share
its
ARGUMENT OF THE
wronges; and after a
little
ODYSSBS.
is
325
time hee
ill-pleas'd
that
another hath sought bounty at
th^ pallace.
Soone they are

lieth
bandying wordes, nexte giving challenge, then Irus

prostrate, felled
by one
forcefull
blow that broke the
jawebone.
Then
are the on-lookeres dismaied least
much worse
ills
lurke behind, for Ulysses then in a loud voyce addressing
Amphinomus
th'
saith:
"Soone the great vengeance must

th' dust
suddenly come and low in
thou shalt be laid by

to
hand of mightie Ulysses, when he comming backe
his
owne kingdome endeth Jove's impos'd punishment,
slayeth the greedie chieftains that devoure his substance,

striving together for th' faire wife, that having but her
serva'ts as guides or protecting guard, suffered
much by
such actions."
But Eurymachus hearing

insulted,
these words,
anger'd and
caste
a stoole that overthrew the cui>-beare'.

last
Confusion everywhere ran riot and at
they withdrewe
one by one to the dwellings.

XIX.
Onelie the servants, th' attendants of his pallace are

left
and soone Ulysses, plotting destruction of

idle suitors, alone,
th'
multitude
of wrong-doing
broods in sadnesse.
Then commeth Telemachus

sutors, Pallas
to aide, Pallas also
beeing
with him, and together gathering up th' armes of th'
with a light preceding as a guide, they stored
them
in th' innermost chamber.

th'
As Telemachus sawe
father, surelie
gleaming
pillars
he
said:
"My
us.
one of
th'
divine gods hath enter'd with
Beholde
th'
bright fir-tree columnes, they burne as with
flame, on all sides pillers shine as though blazing with
336

glory.
celestiall
Truly wonders here sliew on everie

necessarie
hand.''
But
rest is
now and Telemachus
is
bidden to seeke his nightes repose.
Soone Odysseus retumeth in silence

meditating th' vengeance he would take
untill late.
to th' hall, yet
upon these
as
suters
Penelope then apeareth, seeming

th' fairenesse
Venus
th'
fire,
or
Diana in
and beautie of moulde and
grace of movement.
Shee seateth herself e beside the

sit
bids th' servant bring Odysseus to
on one
side, inquir-
ing whence he
is,
also
who, yet he
is
tells
her not.
With
ease hee doth narrate a tale that

his wanderings, since
not a true historie of
he feareth he may bee betray'd;

it,
shee in her simple heart believeth
and
telleth
how
her
beauty was wasted in heavy griefe for Ulysses, as he
sailed
away
to
lUium
to
avenge fayre Helen's wicked, shame-
lesse act; she tells
him how
first
th' suitors harassed her,

little
and
of her shrewde device in order to gain a

to
time, saying
them shee must
compleate for Laertes the woven
mantle she had yet to prepare 'gainst his buriall,

eve ravelling out
all
how
at
she had done in th' daie, th' suters
were made
to thinke her labor would soone be done, for
seeing her diligence in th' daytime, noe one suppos'd she
was making no progres.
For more then three whole
yeares did this ruse availe, but in th' fourth th' suters
learned of her deceit and angrily

response.
demanded immediate
former surroundings,
But though inquiring

to her,
oft of his
his birth etcsetera, nothing induc'd
him
to open his storie
but he fe^n'd to her constantlie.

fire,
After long
speeche sitting there by th' cheerfuU
Penelope sum-
mon'd
feete.
th'
friendlie old servante, Euryclea, to
wash
his
It
was the nurse Odysseus had in
his infancy,
and
ARG-UMENT OF THE ODYSSES.

hee doth attempte to
see the scar that
827
tume from
th' fire lest she
might
was made by the boar's tuske when he

his early youth.
tell th'
'tis
hunted on Parnassus in
discover anie
She would verily
marke and speaks saying she knowes

is
household, so
when
she
Odysseus, her child, for hee
so like
him
in his strong handes
and
feete, his
answer
is
that frequentlie th' peculia' likenesse had beene noted;

th' scar, she
but when, discovering

doth well knowe
notwithstanding
left a scarre,
th'
it
exclaimeth that she

the boar's tuske, for
it
wound made by
was throughlie heal'd by Autolycus

"Silence,
Odysseus in alarm catching her by the throat
shouteth angrily:
fare
ill.
Commit
face.
this to the gods."
woman, or thou too must But this came not

tum'd
to Penelope's eares, th' goddesse, Minerva, having
away her
Then
the nurse in haste brought

spilt,
more water and bathed

when,
sitting opposite
him, for the other had beene
Penelope by
or sole
th' fireside,
the conversation on her favourite

againe, yet Odysseus taketh
theme was taken up
holde
sight.
o' th'
olde rags and keepeth his scarre cover'd
from
XX.
After a time no sound
palace.
is
heard throughout Ulysses'
Pallas appeareth to shewe
him what he should

by her wordes.
he slay
th'
do, strength'ning th' heart in his breast
At
first it
doth seeme that
it
were
fitting that
unfaithfull female servants, most bitterly feeling a

of trust in his household, but
want
on furder consideration he
doth think well to wait.
At
his
their feast later the suitors put a deal of
man on
They
Sonne,
arousing soe mightily his great spiritt that

destruction.
Theoclymenus prophesieth their sudden
328
turne th' prophecie to foolish mockery, and laugh th' seer

to scome.
XXI.
Penelope coming unto the
suitors,
declareth no
th'
man
can have her to wife that cannot draw

of Odysseus.
mighty bowe
"Hee
that
is
strong like to Ulyses shall lead
me away
still."
to a
new home,
yet of this shall a dream abide
Great
is
their consternation.
Antinous wil not handle
the weapon, fully co'vinc'd hee hath not abilitie to draw

or even, verilie, bend slightlie th'
bowe
of Odysseus; but
it,
Eurymachus doth take holde on

ing to
it,
and warm
attempt-
make
it
to
some degree
pliant,
and
saith:
"Not
that I greatly desire to marrie Ulysses' wife, for
many
manie
others are fairer in Achaia; not Ithaca onelie but

a citty hath fairer dames.
It
is
not that, yet should I
sorrowe, for 'twould be disgrace to us if posterity should
hear that
Ulyses."
we
could not even bend th' bowe of great
Antinous doth persuade

ing, laies th'
his
minde
so that hee, desist-
bow
aside.
Then they pour out wine

it \Yoiild
offering
a libation that Apollo, appeased, should lende his aide.
Then the
old stranger cometh as if

in his age to
be possible,
by any meanes,
compete with such men, but
Antinous, scornfuUie doth withhold the bowe taunting
short
him with ill-grace. However his winged wordes are cut by Penelope, and reproving him for his discourtesy to their guest shee saith to him: "Doe not fear least th'
stranger, if successefull, should lead
me
awaie, for
if
he
can drawe the strong bowe, a
new
coat or tunick shall be
awarded him."
'
ARGUMENT OP THE
at
this
if
ODYSSES.
329
But
"
her sonne,
it
Telemachus,
maketh reply:
'Twere well
be
left for
mee
all
to
make
proofe, as
might appear
to
mee
best,
of
that wish, or that I
deem worthie
^^Ye
of th' honour of contending."

little
Thereupon
the strife was subdued for a
while and Ulysses said:
may
very well leave
it
unto the gods."

hi'selfe
Meantime he had
Philaetius.
reveal'd
tears
to
th'
oxheard,
With manie
to
he had given a pledge to
aide Odysseus, the swineheard seconding him, consequentlie it
was arranged
have Eumgeus carry the weapon to
Ulysses and place
it
in his aged
to
and weakly hand.

him, he
first
As
the
bowe was handed

and deftly
adjusted the
string as lightly
as a musitian
it,
doth tune his

th'
slackened harpe, and, lifting

ring.
sped a shaft through
XXII.
Scone
th'
arrowe was aimed toward Antinous
^the
young
chieftaine lay prone.
Another and anothe' were

on
sent swiftlie forth, and the wounded, dead or dying lay

in heapes,
and gore ran in
rivers
th' floore.
with-
drawal was impossibr because order to bar the entrance
was given, before
th'
deadly
strife,
which Euryclea had

tackle.
done, th' gate being bound
up with
Ulysses havi'g exhausted his quiver, plact a helmet
upon
his bare head, snatch'd shield
and speare, and stood
forth a bold hero to

that opposite
menace
th' throng.
But he sawe
arm'd
him were
arrai'd sev'ral of th' sutors
with shields, spears, terrorising helmets with long noddi'g

plumes, and whatever appertaineth to a warriour.
As
they continuallie presse furde' forwards, Ulysses noteth

that they get th' armes from
some of Odysseus' proper
household;
330

Caling Telemachus he maketh inqnirie regarding
it.
The
latter,
fearing
it
may be by
his
owne
fault, in leaving
sntors'
ajar a door to the inner
roome where the

untill
armes
were concealed, doth waite
he seeth Melanthius
knave, and with th'
supply others with shining speares, and helmets with nod-
ding plumes.
Then he
fals
on
th'
ayde of Eumaeus, hoisteth him on high and biddeth him

keep watch from that airie hammocke.
Then
Pallas
came
to
them in the guise of wise Mentor,

latter
and both Ulysses and the sutors hoped for ayde, the
saying to
him
that hee should aby
it
dear
if
he did not
joyne them.
Ulysses hoping
it
was to be shewne that he

and
also that this
was
assisted
by the heavenly
divinities,
would prove to be Minerva,
felt his heart throb gladly,
but the voyce said in stern tones:
"Odysseus, where
is
now thy strength, as when at wide-way'd Troy thou didst hew down soe many Trojans? and it was by thy wisdome that th' cittie was overthrowne. Rise now in thy might
and shewe an invincible
spirit."
Without giving
Minerva rose
weapons
th' progresse of
th'
assistance either to one or the other,
to th' roofe,
and
sitting
high in aire watcht
the conflicte, sometimes however guiding
lest
they might too sorely buffet Odysseus or
But when th' combat had lasted some time, Telemachus being wounded in th' wrist and Eumseus in the shoulder, she lifted her ^gide shield, and the suitors
his friends.
in dismay
were sodainelie vanquisht.

sending messages to manie parts of
strict
"Next Odysseus,
the pallace,
gave
command
that
the
slaine
bee
remov'd, th' whole place cleans'd and purged, and th'
unchaste
servants of his household imprisoned where none could attempte reskewe.
ARGUMENT OP THE
ODYSSES.
331
Hastily obeying these commands, his servants soone
made
selfe
all
most
faire,
for Ulysses'
returne rejoyc'd th'

'Not yet did shee her-
faithfull attendants of Penelope.
even
know
of Ulysses' presence; however Euryclea
shortlie
went
to tell her the glad tidings, for

untill all
Minerva
would that she be kept secluded

XXIII.
was prepared.
After she had ent'red, for a long time she kept

in
silence,
her hart doubting that this stranger
who had
performed
these wonderfull deedes long-absente,
might be some other then her

lord.
well-beloved
But when she gave

th'
directions for the preparation at
once of the bridal couch,
saying:
^TLet
it
be plact -outside
chamber,"
and
Odysseus spake in quick tones making inquiry:

then have you plact the bed
my
hands did
"Where fashion, when
round the venerable tree in

contrived our curiously
this court o'
my
pallace I
wrought
bridall
chamber?
There
silver,
I put th' massive couch, so heavy with gold and

fayre ivory as well,
'twere a sinew'd
man
over
could lifte
it
from
its
place a bed like that,
and
fell
I cast a
it
purple bul's-hide very richly dyed," she knewe
was
and
indeed Odysseus and running up
on
his necke.
Soone hee related the story of his

felt a
reall adventures
new
thankfulnes for th' help vouchsafed to him,
but realized that no true abiding place was, there for his
feete.
On
the
following
day
Ulysses
with
Telemachus,
Eumseus and Philsetus armed

to visit Laertes.
in shining brasse set out
It
was already light ere they could go
forth,
but Minerva cover'd them from sight with a misty

-
cloud.
332

XXIV.
Th'
last
booke containeth an account of Mercury's
descent into
suitors.
Hades with
th'
soules
of th'
slaughtered
Thereafter an uprising amongst th' friends of th' latter
made an
vention,
insurrection,
which was quell'd by the
inter-
at th'
decisive
momente, of watchfull Minerva.

warned
Eupeithes
who was
their leader being slaine, she

it
Ulysses, lest he anger Jove,
would be well
sides,
to cease,
and gave the pledge or othe upon both
likened in
form and in voyce,
as at a
former time, to Mentor.
This doth conclude this part of the worke.
Next
th'
opening lines will bee found, and keiewords

th' parts of
which are your aides in joining
our Epick.
The
verses followe here:
"Sing, sing to
me
Muse, of one
to
whom
Some rare expedient was never wanting. Who, when proud Ilium he had orethrowne, Wander'd afarre that he in many lands
Might
see faire citties
and observe the wayes
Of
distant countries: yet to
him
there
came
Much
heavie suffering in that strong minde
Devising meanes himselfe and mates to save.

Infatuate men!
little
indeed wot they.
Ere Helios'
fair
herde was rashlie slaughtered,
^0 man
Return
could shield e them, nor would ere again
to their faire land bring joy
and
rest.
thou faire goddesse, from high Jove sprung forth,
Sing of these sorrowes!"
ARGUMENT OP THE
ODYSSES.
333
No more
truth, our
of our Odysses
is
given here excepting, of a

oft similar, as
numerous keyes, and these are

no confusion can
noe doubt you will note, to manie that are alreadie used
in th' Iliads; but
arise,
as th'
words
which joine the portions are
sufficient.
These I name
simplie joining- words, as such use must bee

as a builder
made
of
them
maketh of
th'
markes that are frequentlie

th' farre-seeing
fitted
noted on timbers and stones that
planner
into
doth already, to his mindes eye, picture,

structure
Time
itselfe
can
little alter.
Key-wordes follow:
desses,
first,
the heavenly beings,
god-
gods and
spirites,
demy-gods or heroes;
th' ruler
or god that controles th' ocean, Poseidon, with the whole

traine of sea-gods,
th'
nymphes, and
attendants;
the god of
underworld, Pluto, with every
spirit of that
realme;
Olympus, Ida, Pergamos, Hellespontus, Troy, Trojans,

Grecians, Thrace, siege, battaile, flight, vessels, tempest,
wrack,
haven,
rocks.
Calypso,
immortality,
Penelope,
sage,
Telemachus,
Sparta,
Hellen,
Menelaus,
Nestor,
Theoclymenus, Argos, murther, ambuscade, swineheard,

adventures,
Eumaeus,
ship,
Phseacian
sailors,
present,
Nausicaa, Alcinous, Arete, Cicones, Cyclops, Cimmerii,

winds,
swine,
cattel,
Circe,
sorceresse,
Ulysses,
mates,
isle,
enchantment,
Siren,
Teiresias,
perill,
Scylla,
Charjbdis,
Helios,
Ithica,
suitors,
web, bowe, stranger, ven-
geance, servantes, Laertes,
insurrection, conquest, oathe,
Mentor, voyce and forme.'
FRANCISCI, BARONIS DE VERULAMIO,

Vice-Comitis Sancti Albani.
De
Dignitate et Augmentis Scientiarum
is
ended.
FKAl^CIS
BACOK
NEtW ATLAjNTIS.
1635.
am jiamed
in th' world, not

it
what
my
stile
should bee
according to birth, nor what
rightfuUie should be accordo' th'
ing to our law, which giveth to the first-borne

house,
(if this first-borne
royall
be a sonne
o' th'
ruling prince,
and borne
o'
in true
and right wedlocke)

is
th' title of th'
Prince
Wales.
My
name
Tidder, yet
men
speak of
me
as
Bacon, even those that knows of

lawful! marriage with th' Earle
prior to
my royal
mother, and her

a suitable time
o' Leicester,
my
birth.
Queenes are not
like
common
folk.
They often
con-
trole opinions as well as their estates,
and Elizabeth's strong
will
was not one that could be
resisted.
Her
policy
made
Parliament and her Privy-Counsel each suppose, not onely

that their
wisedome did soe govern England, but that she wondrous for a descendant
and grandsire
th'
o'
herself was, (in a degree truly

o'
th' line o' kings, like th' royall sire
famous memory) controFd by advisement of

compose these bodies.
sion at one time
men
that
'No doubt they did not lack occathis notion, yet
and another to modify
her
witt
was seldome unequall
to occasion, while a perplexitie
rather sharpened then dull'd, and actuall danger
made
as a
two-edged sword.
sword, and not
Thus men were often dazzled by the

that used this edg'd
many
weapon escaped
head
as well,
without deepe scarres.
My
hands
more then
breath,
all,
my
heart
aye,
my
are sorelie
disclosed
wounded; for
in a
my
royall
mother
our relationship and
NEW
cursed
ATLANTIS.
335
my
nativity: nor could I, in the
numerous
subse-
quent encounters, change her hasty

important question of
decisio'
upon that very
th' succession.
'Tis said:
"The curse
finde
that was not deserved never will come."

it
Some may
true,
but to
me
a causelesse curse did surely come, and

blighte.
o' this secret,
my entire life felt th'

!N"everthelesse, to
Robert Cecil I owe much

Queene, of
underhand, yet constant opposition: for from
th' first
hee
was
th' spy, th'
informer to
th'
all
the boyish
acts, of
which I had
least cause or reason for
any
pride.
This added fuel to the flame of her wrath, made
me
the
more
indiscreete,
and precipitated an open disagrement,
which lasted for some time, 'tweene

however I seldom name with a
In truth, Cecil work'd
my
foster-mother.
Lady Anne Bacon, and the woman who bore me, whom
title so
sacred as mother.
evill to th' dale
me
nought save
world.
which took him out
o' this
Through
his vilde influence
on Elizabeth, hee
filPd her
minde with a
suspition of
my
desire to rule th'
whole
world, beginning with England, and that

like Absalom's, to steale th' hearts of the
th'
my
plann was
Nation and move
He told her that my every thought dwelt on a crowne; that my onelie sport amid my school-mates was a pageant of royalty; that 'twas my hand
people to desire a king.
in
which
th'
wooden
staffe
was
plact,
and
my
head that
wore th' crowne, for no other would be allowed to represent princes or their pompe. He informed Her Ma. that
a I would give a challenge to a fierce boyish fight, or duello of fists, if any one presumed to share my honours
or depose
me from my
th'
throne.
Queene, afraide of these ominous porIn due time under pretents, sent for good Paulet and arranged that
336
texte of great importe, I should

to France.
th' shores of
accompany our ambassage
I was plact in th' care of Sir
Amyias and
left
my own f aire
land without a
moment
of warn-
ing, soe to speak.
Th' Queene by her [power] royall, and

all
her rights maternall, readily overruFd

tions.
our several objec-
No
teares on part o'
my
dear foster-mother, nor

avail'd,
entreaties o' that o' grave Sir

as soone as
N. Bacon
while
I,
my
first
protest
had been waived, occupied
my
fantasy houre after houre, picturing to myself e th'

forraine lands.
life in
Th' fame of
then, and
it
th'
gay French Court had come
to
me
even
was
flattering to th'
youthfull and most naturall
love
o' th' affaires
taking us from
my native land,
inasmuch
as th' secret
commission had been entrusted to me, which

true wisdome for safer, speedier conduct
if left to th'
required
much
then 'twould have
common
course
o'
businesse.
Soe with much interessed, though sometimes apprehensive

minde, I made myselfe ready to accompanie Sir Amyias
to that
sunny land
o' th'
South I learn'd soe supremely to
love, that afterwards I would have left England and every
hope
o'
advancement
to
remain
my
whole
life there.
'Nov
yet could this be due to th' delights of th' country, by

itselfe,
for love
o'
sweete Marguerite, th' beautifull young

th'
sister o' th'
king (married to gallant Henri

it
King
o'
Navarre) did make
Eden
to
my innocent heart,
th'
and even
when
I learn'd her perfidie, love did keepe her like th'
angels in
my thoughts half o'

many
o' life
time
as to th' other half
she was devilish, and I myselfe was plung'd into hell.

lasted duri'g
Thia
yeares, and, not untill four decades or
eight lustres
were
outliv'd, did I take
any other
to
my
sore heart.
Then
I married th'
woman who
hath put
Marguerite from
my
memorie
rather, I should say, hath
NEW
doth hang in
ATLANTIS.
33T
banisht her portrait to th' walles of memorie, onely, where

it
th' pure,
undimmed beauty
of those early
dayes
while her most

I have a
lovelie presence doth possesse this
entire mansion, of heart
and braine.
although the matter
Yet here
Sir
little digressed,
doth appertaine unto
my
story at a later period.
When
Amyias Paulet became
avised of
my
love,
he propos'd
that he should negotiate a treaty of marriage, and appropriately urge on her pending case
o'
the divorce from the
young Huguenof; but

But the future race
to cover
for reasons of very grave importance
these buds of an early marriage never opened into flower.

will profit
by
th' failure in the field
of
love, for in those flitting dales afterward,
having resolv'd
triumphs
o'
every marke of defeate with
th'
my
minde, I did thoroughly banish

th'
my
is
tende' love dreams ta
regions
o'
clouds as unreall, and let
my
works of
vari-
ous kinds absorb
my
minde.
to
It
thus by
my
disappoint-
ments that I do secure
many,
is
fruition.
Those whose chief desire
Scieiitia will re Joyce in
my
experiments in Naturall Sciences, for they have greatly

increas'd the
knowledge which was in
th' world.
Some-
thing have
my
labours done for other claimants, and Phil-
osophic and th' Arts have gained by no meanes slightly by
njy labour, for I took no respite for yeares.
It is to
make
my
decypherer industrious I urge this upon the attention

I have learn'd well
soe frequently.
how much
a wise use
of time saveth, and I wish most deeply to stampe

cepts
my
pre-
upon
th' minde, at th' very earliest opportunitie and
upon
my
is
latest appearance, as a
guide in
th' labirinth
of
Cyphers.
It
to this
husbandry
this
guarding 'gainst
losse that
I do
owe
a large
aye
th' greater portion o' this
work
in
338
Cypher.
When
a care of the minutes hath been learnt
care almost miserlie, in truth

lar, is
his next taske, quite simi-
that of holding to
it
f aithf ullie.
is
This work perhaps

to
more then any other which

continuance.
knowne
mankind needeth
like-
As
in a race
he that hath greatest endurance

Cipher
sure to winne
doth come out before him of greatest speede, so here,

wise,
hee who can long f ollowe
this
is
an easy triumphe over him that soone

the course.
It
tireth
and leaveth
was necessarie
to be
wary: wee have spoken
little
therefore in anie single place, eyther of the subjects that

are fully treated in the Cyphers or the rules for their easy
unfolding: indeed a
man
of wit shall finde our stories and

if
plays before he doth see the rules and arguments,
he be
not a patient man, or especially

swiftest pinions
if
bird-witted
flying
on
and never resting upon the

he hath but weake
leafie
boughs
his
longer then until he finde one olive leafe; but
when
waie becometh
diflicile
aides, if
he finde
not the diverse arguments which I put in

the Bi-literall and Clocke Ciphers.
many
places in
Labour, I doe entreate thee, with

forth th'
all dilligence to
draw
numerous
It
is
rules for use in writing out these secret
workes.
now
the onely desire that hath likelihood of

is
grand fulfillment, but so great

shall give
our faith that posterity
honour unto our name, here and in the distant

it
lands beyond th' seas, our efforts are, as

tirelesse
might be
said,
and unceasing
to carry out
even the least portions
of our marvellous
work
lift
to perfection.
Unto God do we
aide, blessing,
up our
soules imploring of
o'
Him
and light for the illumination
the workes
which wee
leave.
FEA^CIS BACOiT.
SYLVA SYLVARUM; OR NATURAL HISTORY.
RAWLEY'S PREFACE.
1635.
lUj
must some
his lordship's
works succeed when he
is
dead, for
the Cypher left incomplete I have
now
it
finished.
As you
note, th' Court papers told the world
no
secrets, yet
I have stumblingly proceeded with

letters
and unwittingly used

P, S and Z.
the' eighth
wro'gly as B,
I,
L,
M,
E",
When, however, you

Centurie
find this
th'
change in
where
beganne
worke, you shall pause

heerein employ'd and
awhile, then use the alphabet as

as explained in
it is
my
preceding
epistle.
It will thus
be
like
new kind
of alphabet and doubtlesse will bee trouble-
some, yet can bee conn'd while some had to be discovered;
but in respect of a probable familiaritie with
th'
worke, and
the severall diverse methods employed oft by his lordship,

this
may by no meanes
be required, since
th'
wit that could
penetrate such mysteries surely needeth no setti'g forth and
enlarging of mine.
Ere the whole question be dropt, however,
let
me
bid
th'
you go on to
storie, or
my
larger and fully arranged table

finish'd as it should
it,
where
epistle, is
have beene had
his
lordship lived to compleat

th'
since
my part was
but that of
hand, and I did write only that portion which was not All this was duely composed and written
us'd at th' time.
out by his hand, and
may
bee cherish'd.
340
BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON
From
Burton
clocke,
his penne, too,
works which now bear
th^
name
containing
and
severall
useful
those
in them th' symboll, word, bi-literall, anagramme Ciphers put forth make portions which could by noe means bee
adapted to dramaticall writings.

as
If you doe not use
them
you
decypher th' interiour epistles, so concealed, your
story shall not be compleat.
Th' workes are in three

Its
divisions entitled.
Melancholy,
Anatomy.
interiour
Additions to this booke have beene by direchis hand, whilst
tion of
th'
Lord Yerullam, himselfe, often by

letter,
carried
is
in
number
of ingenious
is
Cyphers mentioned above,

in every case that
his
is,
from
his pen,
and
the same
he would have used in these workes, for
in verie truth,
worke cut short by
th' sickel of
Death.
Turn next
as instru'ted to
my
co'pleate table of the
matter treated, or experiments set downe, and carry the

s'cret story to its conclusio'.
This doth folio we directly

as it should,
upon the body of the worke

corporate with
it.
had
it
beene
in-
WILLIAM RAWLEY.
FRAISXIS BACON.
NATURAL HISTORY.
1635.
Every worke contains portions of
my
Cypher
history:
many
that have great matters

live, are
o'
which no suspicion should
be rais'd while I
written in the Latine, and are
the lesse likely to be prematurelie found; for I doe not

^vîte these in
expectation or desire of rousing such atten-
tion as shall jeopardize the story (hid
much
as
our rules
and sundry directions are hidden, onely not

for the readie eie
o'
so oft repeated,
my
closest reader) built out of
some
stories great poetes
have writ, or sung, that I turn'd into
the best English of
my
day, to use in
my
Cypher.
Finding that one important story within manie others

produc'd a most ordinarie play, poem, history, essay, law-
maxime, or other kind,

tried th'
class,
or description of work, I
experiment of placing
my
translations of
Homer
and Virgil within
my
other Cypher.
When
one work has
been so incorporated into others, these are then in like
manner
into
treated, separated into parts
and widely
scatter'd
my
numerous books.
and
When
th' task
has been com-
pleated,
this little Ciphe' (thus contrived to

it is
ayde you
in the writing) put into place,

lishing.
ready for the pub-
Seeke
it
out by careful! attentio' to the simple rules
which pointe your course: directions shewe each part of

the worke so fully,
(my
designe
is
so farre
worked out in
were
such other accompanying Cyphers as best will teach this

invention) that the unfolding doth seem like as
341
it
342

Indeed you
is
o' itselfe.
may
write raeerelie as the hired
assistant
whose worke
that of a man's hand, or penne,
not of his thought, braine, or minde, inasmuch as
my
thought has informed every portion, as the minde doth the

bodie.
At no time
sir, all
shal
your appearance in mine emploie bee

yet,
deem'd anie otherwise then that of an amanuensis,
dues of honour shal be yours, in this and the comit is
ing ages, since
wholly by this meanes that the greatest
things of this age can be revealed.

everie
Much
doth
it
behoove
man
to
be wise, prudent, and of great care to avoid
the obloquy the vulgar are ever likelie to cast on anyone
more fortunate then themselves; thus

ing
this,
I,
constantly heed-
have kept the secret of
my
birth
many
years
longer than was absolutely necessary, lest seeking to acquire that which, while most truly
my right,
beeing settled
by
my
royall
mother upon
my
cousin, could not well be
reclaimed, I might loose thereby
many
worthie honours I
scattered, in-
had wonne by labor

deed, as
as fruitfull
and widely
any workes of
is
it
E'ature.
This however
it
told in full; I do but
make mention
alreadie
of
it,
here.
Seeke
out
if
you have not
found
and make a
full historic of
my owne
I shall
all
life
and
times.
The
men who
historian
live in the
world will
much valew
a worke so
a living
hidden and preserved
when
to
be no more
and .philosopher, since

invention^ and
should seeme to em-
bodie
my
be the sound of
to
my
long
unheard voyce, which speaks

bered.
them
in tones well
rememvoyce
Yet must I owe
to
you the favo' of making

o'
this
sound the sweet music
song.
I can but frame the verses
for your penne, and leave a
work of Time unto Time's
NATURAL HISTORY.
mastery.
348
Your
dutie although
somewhat dull
it
is
of so
great importancy, I
pains,
am
assured that
is lest
doth requite the
but
my
great fear
a wearinesse overcome you
ere this Cypher, or the

out.
Word Cypher may

Make
it
be fully work'd
Doe me not
so
meane
a service as leaving this
work
to
unfinished, I do entreate you.
my monument
marke the end of labour for my f ellowe-men,

the
principallie
advancement and dissemination of knowledge, yet

for th' pleasing of men's mindes, while setting forth
much
my
other history,
is
for I give
you
my
o'
assurance that the
worke
worthy
o'
preservacion.
One must
in the
give as great a portion

furnish,
time as seven dales
weeke can
and must not use many houres

o'
for recreation, for life

is
would he leave ought

It
is
any value
to
men,
time
in
so short.
for this cause that I use
my
so miser-like, never spending a

health.
moment
idly,
when
Oft
my
table seemes to
me
as a study,
and I too
frequently invite
upon
my worke
my friends when my minde seemes more then my guests; yet do I accompt my repuas I
tation as
an host not of the worse, inasmuch
do con-
verse with great ease, and (as hath beene said) with so
much
tion.
spiritt
and wit that none know or imagine

times have I thus
my absorpmany
of
Many
made
the plot of a story in
minde while great
lords sat at the table, followed
my
a
experimentes to indisputable conclusions, or contrived
newe Cipher.
You
will observe a rule

this
or divisions;
by which I separated the parts rule will, per contra, put them together
Thus,
in the originall order.
when
the keyes are found,
take a part of that for your story, then follow the same
key until some
o' th'
widely open doores be entered, and

th'
some idea bee form'd of the method of
hidden Cyphe'.
8 14

this to its inner folio,
Follow
of
nor iinbende until the whole
my
It
is
Cipher historie be written.

behoovefull, as indeed
wee know, that none
o' this
worke
attract attention while I
remaine here, and for
another quite manif este reaso' th' Cyphers are not as justly
work'd out
i^
my
later
and larger bookes

is
as
I had intended
could overrest.
to do, for lacke of
time
something no
man
come.
Surely
my
it
hand and braine have but short

th'
I firmly beleeve
to
were not in
power of humane beings
do anie more then I have done, yet I
am
but partlie
satisfied.
The
who
chiefe wish I
now have
is
to continue
my
rightfull,
humble, yet truly Worthy workes for
my
toyling f ellowes,
wrestle in blind helplessness with th' forces of ISTature.

that
We
know
the manifold mightie influences of unseen

of this knowledge of our environings to
things,
owe more
Therin
the light from our Celestiall Source then to our investigations.
lieth the
duty we owe to our fellowe-men,

Freely ye have received,
This then doth urge
for do not our Scriptures say:

so
must ye in
like
manner give?
me
ever on, up to heights of knowledge that no one hath ever

reached.
^
Make a
table, as
hath beene alreadie
said,
putting therin
the names that I have taken in the worke, and also

that each doth represent one of
mark
my numerous penne names.

uselesse
When a word
has
many
times been used, making what you
would thinke, many times, very

averments, you will
it
and questionable
table,
tume
it,
to
your small
and finding
them,
for
^but
has beene put upon
you begin a course or hunt
certaine other words,
keies I have
named
keepe the same catche, or guide-words from place to place.
small tilda, or
mark
of this kinde
is
used, sometimes, to
catch your attention, and ayde in th' search for keyes.
NATURAL HISTORY.
The mark
said, is
is
345
often put inside letters, and as I have already
neare key-words.
My
word-signs are scattered with most prodigall hand,
not onely in the prose, but also in the diverse other workes.
In many places you

wordes, this
may
finde
them named
which
as joyningis
manner shewing
their use,
to bring
parts together.
You must
:
likewise keep in
minde one
to like.
very important rule
it is,
that like
must be joyn'd
called, in
Match each key with words of

or like origin.
a like meaning, like nature,
These are sometimes

th'
many
prose
pamphlets and
workes of philosophy or science, con-
jugates, connaturalls
and similars or
parallels.
This doth unite parts in such a maner that you can

write in perfection
translations of
my many stage-plaies,
histories,
poemes,
Homer, Ovid, and (and)
Virgil,
little
and many
worth save
it
French poems writen at an early age, and
to finish the historie that they complete,

is
indirectly
true,
nor too fully, but with such passion that he

it
who
Marlone
doth put
forth
downe
is
sure to take
it
up
againe.
It sheweth
my
love for
mine
angelic-faced, softe-eyed
guerite of th' South-land
sweet White Rose

of the
of
my
garden of
th' heart.
My
this
table of keyes
by which each
many workes
were prepared, you
may have found
while making out
Cypher; they have beene placed in most of
my books,
places, in
but in manifolde wayes, as well as in

order that
many
birth
my
Cipher story of mine
earliest yeeres,
be
not writen while I stay in this land of

full inheritance.
my
and
right-
It
is
for this cause that little of your
subject matter occupies one space, your numerous instructions so widely dispersed, nothing given with
any due con-
cern as to sequence, changes (often unexpected) from one
346
place to anotlier, with
matter introduced to
the intention.
much other and entir'ly foraine make this to appeare principall in

worker and ingenious decipherer
Yet the
trnlie dilligent
may
in
not thus easily be
let or missled,
and I
shall rest
ill
my minde for this
manie a long day,

early.
least this fox

is
may
chance to be unkennelled too

disstaste of th'
It
not feare, but
unseemely talk and much curiosity of the

it is
many who
read these Cypher histories, and

i'
worth
your time spent
the long labour,
if
I have
my
inventions
so perfected that
nothing
may
My
I
still
time of f eare went from wish to avoid
my designes. me with my greatness,

thwart
but
sus-
many
questionings,
and much
picion, perchance,
on the
side of the king, in his
owne
prope' person.
I have neede of the very caution which
kept these secrets from the many,
when my mother made

forfeit;
me
I
swear secrecy, and
my
life
was the
nor
may
now
But
speake openly, yet
many men
for a
kingdome would
break their oathes.
my
kingdome
is
in immortall glory
generations.
it is
among men
from
generatio' unto
comming
An
unend-
ing fame will crowne
my
browe, and
farre better
worth in any true thinking minde, I
am assured,
then
many
a crowne which kings do have set on with shewe and
Yet when I have said it, my heart the great wrong that I must forever endure.
ceremonie.
is
sad for
Seeke
th'
key-words
if
you would
find th' secrets I shall
write or anie alreadie told, for a
newe name must now bee

finde clearly tolde in the
given him
who shewes
still
here written some pages of his
hidden history.
This you
may
Word-Cypher if it be
it
to seeke, but as I have mentioned
in severall places I
must be allow'd the hope that you
NATURAL HISTORY.
have found the
letter I
347
have written which contains the
directions in itself for a
Cypher of a very great valew
for
my
purposes.
I shewe
many
this
truths of the affaires of th' times that

told
you have not founde

none knowe
by
my
it
is
fellow-historians, for
page of history
as the
few others that dar'd not reveal

it.
^knew
Queene
it,
and
and fear'd
What
will
grow therfrom,
unknowne, yet none

interested,
living save one
man, besides the one most

These two are myself
standeth in this historic.
one who
o'
by
rights should be th'
King
of England, the last
the
honoured line of rulers of
whom
none was more honoured

Ejng, (Charles)
ruled his
o'
then was
justlie
my
mother, Queene Elizabeth, (and none lesse

is
so),
the other
th'
His Ma.
o'
th'
important onely as
sonne
th'
man who
owne kingdome,
land.
that of Scotland, and mine, that
Eng-
The
principall reason
which makes
It
is
my
heart sad shall

as ITature,
then be seen more fully.
one quite such

love
o'
herselfe doth place within us,

desire for right
the
let
power with
and
justice,
and though you stand farre

it is
still
removed from
me
in time (this I doubt not)
my
surest
hope that you
may
not
my
story lie hidden
from
all eies,
but will winne just renowne among

tongues, the Cypher which
men by
writing, in
many
my writings
hold within them.
such of the
As the worke would scantily paye hunting men as must be rewarded promptlie,
patientlie secrets that
and who can never seeke
be of a
greater worth then any history otherwise giv'n, especially

if it
may be through wayes

are, I
that do turne
many
times
backe and forth, you

adventure.
do assure you, alone in this
^
348
Many who
as oft
ride to th' chase turne back their steedes
before th' fox runs to cover;
the
game
is
too swift, or,

spirit,
may happen
left
with one having a steed of great
he
is
by a hedge and must helpe himself
in as good
humour
as possible: so in quests of this sorte they will

fall
not winne that
by the wayside, nor they that tume by

Minotaur more
back ere the end.
My
fierce
labyrinth
is
tortuous, guarded
than
th'
one in Crete, and as watchfull as a Cerberus.
It
is
myselfe that watcheth as "they that prevent the
morning,'' lest I be betraied
by some Judas or moderne
Sinon, and I trust that the meanderings leade the feet in

apparentlie meaningless waies, so that the places seeme
not noteworthy to
th' observer, in
which I have put the
keyes, while others having no important matter have beene
prepared in a
neste,
way that arouses curiosity. Farre fro' her the Lapwing cries, away; and I have thus farre
results,
met with unhoped, even unthought of

that
insomuch
lost.
now
I feare that
is
my
whole labour may be
But
faith
triumphant, and th' doubts are generally
conquered; for
we do
place men's powers
i'
rank, not so
to distrust.
farre beneath our owne that
we
give
waye
This that
is
cast
wide upon darke waters
may some
th' grain
daye
nor
bring a reward to one who did not sowe
plough
exceed
th'
his.
ground; but when
it
shall be,
my
it
fame must
This that I do, ever
must be held of such

carries
value that the work of him
who
forward can
but be, as hath beene formerly mentioned, second to mine.
You now must

the manner of the
use other plays which are combin'd, in
many
already used, as follows: Peele's
comedy of The Old Wives' Tale; and Shakespeare, his Twelfe Mght, or What You Will; Comedy of Errors;
NATURAL HISTORY.
Midsommer Night' Dreame; As You Like
Labour
Lost,
It;
349
Love's
ISText
and Th'
Two Gentlemen
of Yerona.
Greene's Pinner of "Wakefield, with the Merchant of
Venice; to these join the Arraignement
o'
Paris of Peele,
and The Taming
o'
the Shrew, Marlowe's
Jew
o'
Malta,
and second Doctor Fausstus, Th' Merry Wives of Windsor,
Measure for Measure^ and All
is
Well that Ends Well.

th' Faire
When
you compleate the foregoing, take Much Ado about

Greeke,
Nothing, Peele's Tale of Troy, Hiren
and The Winter's Tale.
By
this
time you must have found
all
these rules, as
everie play contains
many.
to
These direct your feet in a
winding waie, wearysome

promising
you
oft-times
and not always

wrapt
much
profite,
and yet manie
stories are
in this Cyphe'.
Many
of these were placed heere only
for a guide or aide, in
my
Cipher-work.
times that
This must have
beene soe apparent

giveth you
many
my
mention of
it
undue labour, but you had not greater

it
dificultie
with this very tortive Cypher,
must be
scene, then I
have had in writing them
all
and co'cealing one within
others so neatly that no prying eie hath read the stories
thus hidden here.
This Cypher then
is
of value to future generations.
They who may have an ardent desire for glory, hereby may find a waye to gain the honour which they thus
fervently and fev'rously seeke.
He
that
is
imployed to
matters of
conduct business which doth

th' State,
much concerne
faile to
and
th' affaires that
not onely are of importancy
to princes,
but to the people, shall not

varied,
want
other,
possibly
many and
means of transmitting what-
ever
is
of secrecy or great import in his embassage.
To
him
shall
my
invention give joy and profit
many
times,
850

it
nor can
be untimely at any age of

a
human
history
fair
when my
life is done,
monument more white and

o'
then the marble the f arre mines
Italy or Isles of Ionia
have ever produced.
Pause before abandoning your work

honor,
to aske:
"Is
my
my
It
pride,
is
my
fortune or fame pledg'd to anie-
thing?"
labor:
his
said to
anyone having gone forth
to his
"Let not him look back
who hath put hand unto
plough;" so shall the
man who may have found my
inventions presse forward to his farthest bourne, and
winne the reward of industrious workers.

E'ever
shineth
may
doubts and idle fears

th'
assail
him.
light
upon
path his feet must tread, guiding like
fiery pillar
both while the night doth darken, and in the
daytime when the sunne doth shine,

at
in th' noontime,
shall this light
evening and at morne.
Many moneths
feete,
guard the waye, guiding his

spirits.
and comforting
the
his
'No labyrinth can bee so winding that he shal
not
be
the
leader
through
all
twisted,
subtile
turnings.
As houndes pursew
the quest
justlie
till
the fox, so swiftly must he f oUowe
the Cipher histories be found.
Time
will
his
pay
all his obligations, as
he provided early in
venture, nor will he aba' don one
who wandereth
he hath found
in E'ight
th' light.
and ^gyptia' darknesse
untill
Your
is
assurance
may grow
strong,
shall
my
friend, for th'
end
sure.
The golden crowne
one day be yours.
Alas,
great
how do men's mindes turne to the hope of a name in some other waie, when no greatnesse of
Some, however, are
bloud hath set a seal upo' them.

greater
by
birth.
Such are
heires to kingdomes, as I
myself am, yea, and heire to a scepter, itseK of such
NATURAL HISTORY.
pow'r that Europe doth tremble in dread
o'
351
wrath and
:
destruction if the shadowe falleth over the land
yet I
am
not king, nor even heire-apparent to His
Ma.
My mother
nor did
as
gave away her owne
first-borne fruit o' her body,
she at any subsequent time honor

Sonne, although she promised
it
him publickly
her
oft in the earlier years
of her raigne.
who now
speake to you in this waye, as

th'
hath bin said elsewhere in

unjustlie treated.
Cipher,
am
the Prince so
My
heart burneth in
my
bosom,
my
spirit swelleth like E'eptune's
waters before a tempest,

lists
and threateneth
to orepeer the
whenere
my
eager
thoughts dwell long upon a crowne and throne.
Iôr
is it
wholly borne of injuries.

is
But there
that within
to
my
spiritt saith
i
That I was formed

Wisely and boldly
It
is
govern other men,
as befittteth kings.
no vaine
in
conceit,
no
idole dreame.
But
my veines
a royall currant floweth
Whose sourse, no other than the heart of him Sumam'd the Conqueror, sent i' crimson rivers.
Warm,
vitall,
swift, in
o'
many
channels running;
th' bold,
Through heart
one the boldest of
Whom men
re-christen'd Cordelion
^Richard,
The Lion Heart; through artiers of that king, Edward the Third in name ^th' first in honor; And in bold Henry Fifth coursing like fire; That bloud inflam'd my grandsire Henry Eight; Surged in the veines of Queen Elizabeth, My royall mother; now, to me come downe,
Entaileth to me, by a law divine.
This sole inheritance.
Yea,
it is
mine,
,
352
gift irrevocable
from her whose hand

'Not
Th' imperiall scepter held.
Jove himselfe
With awfull bending browe, the nod that shaketh The firm foundation of the solid globe With fev'rous earthequakes, maketh Heaven tremble
In terrour and
affright,
and hurleth backe
To secret ocean cave a frighten'd horde Of cowering waves, had pow'r to give Or unto humankind, decree more fix'd.
to gods,
Such are these Cypher poemes I put within workes of

this
kind.
The theam
of the
exteriour works
poem, or work of science
play,
often no
waye concerneth
that
contained within, yet in the
Cypher history I have put
some of
my
is
wealth of poesy, both of poesie which doth
intend nought but th' giving of pleasure, and that whose

designe
to instruct.
Many
are plays, others are trans-
lated epics of Yirgill
and Homer.
I repeate this oft since
know not what

his
pages have been work'd out, not sup-
posing that instinct in a decypherer can be so strong, that
he hath begun
tions; yea,
work where I commenced
my
instruc-
in workes of poetry, history, science, I have
scattered
with free hand so manie repetitions of
my
direcif
tions that it
letter
would surprise
still
me beyond
measure,
my
remaine
read.
a sealed booke whose writing none
may
When
written,
suificient
have beene found in any place

o'
to
make
is
a full tale of keyes, a portion and, please you,
this history
o'
may be
the writing
th'
secrets
chiefest in
my
conceit,
for 'twere a
more note-worthy
thing, I hold, to
make
true and correct records of the

life,
history of
England and of Queene Elizabeth, her
NATURAL HISTORY.
353
than to relate the most thrilling tale man's minde can

produce.
It doth
redounde most
to
our credit of
all
our
worthy
labou',
and
shall also bring just

is
reward unto the
decipherer, but
no part
better worth noting then the
portio' that doth containe the story
which Time onely

is
will reveale,
left to
inasmuch
as it is
nowhere found or
nowhere
my
countrymen but in Cypher.

is
The reason
spies
not farre
t'
seeke;
'tis
this:
the
many
eies
employed by our mother, the constant watchfuU
she had upon us,

in,
marking our going out and our coming

all
our rising up and
our movements from the rising
of the sunne, to his rising upon the following morning;
not a
moment when we
could openly write and publish a
true, accurate history of
our times, since nought which
Her Ma.
disapproved could ever finde a printer.

is th'
This then
onely cause of
my
secrecyj but it
is
much
too great an attempt
now
to reveale all this openly:
instead, I will
spend
my
whole time in encreast modells,

art o' transmitting.
and well form'd examples of the

true accompt of
given in
my my history
mother's favorite treasure
is strictly
her
love of golden praises, of sHverie
tongued words of flattering speech, dialogues of compli-
ment and princely
sayings, or ceremonies.
It
formed her
chief wealth, while, unlike the mother of the Gracchi,
she did not reckon sonnes as jeweles, nor did she openly
acknowledge either
my
brother or myself
borne princes
Th' sole
heires to th' kingdome.

It burneth as
an injury no lapse of time can cure, a
ceaselesse corosive
relief e
which doth eate
th' heart.
doth come by making out a complete history of
my
wrong that doth so embitter my dayes. Men can eat sleepe, dHnke, worke when the heart is bowed down in
354

gone from their whole
is
pain, yet the joys are
lives,
and
doe not return.
Chief of sorrows
of such
a sense of willful
as
wrong on
obligation
th' part
men
or
women
have greatest
by
relation,
and more especially those of neerest
and most tender relationship

This will never grow
the naturall
ills
that of parents to a childe.
iifferior,
nor ev'n merely equall to
in
life.
It doth rather greatly
magnify
and
increase.
Why
and wherefore I shall not aske, nor
marvell at ought of similar nature.

this within the
The Creator planted
bosom
o'
our kind.
Who
hath so great
of right or
wisedome or soe just judgment of our

wrong, as our Maker?
fault?
life,
Who
can pronounce His lawes at
A foole
o'
or blind, perchance, not he that sees, nor
the
man
thought.
is
Your work
soe thoroughly planed,

it
its
every
part
it
neatly joined togather before

awaits th' master hand.
was again separated,
may
teach you the
manner and
perhaps shew manie examples in divers works for your

use, as appeare often in
more than three methodes of

is
transmitting, yet the

It dependeth vest one
work
entirelie left to you.
upon others
oft-times to reape th' har-
hand hath sowen, and
my
labour
may be
so
comin
pared:
it is
also verie like th' sounds musicians
make
tuning their instruements, of no delight or pleasantnesse

to hear e, but for this cause, afterward there
is
sweeter and
more pleasing musicke. But we shall have occasion to shew the wonderfully beautifull harmony that hath at one
time been brought forth,
if
you but obey
us.
There
is
a play in some of
my
prose works, in Cypher,

o'
of great worth, entitled
The White Kose

names verie
Britaine.
It
hath as principall
related events,
actors,
familiar.
Historie
and out of many papers which ^h' times
NATURAL HISTORY.
render of importance, I have
cerning
355
made
a play.
The
parts con-
my
matemall great-grandsire, who

this
as
you no
doubt have learned before
was King Henry Seventh,
and
also
much
o'
that that doth chiefly concern his thome,

it is
that Perkin (or as
often written elsewhere, PeterMn)
Warbeck, and the gentle wife,
whom
the king so gallantly
nam'd White Eose

toric of his raigne.
o'
Britaine, will be
found in the
his-
my Essays,
in
The remaining portions are put in my Advancement of Learning, the Anatomy
of Melancholy and portions of such plays as naturallie

treat of affaires of State.
It shall give
many
a portion of
my
history, for
my
owne
was
case
is
of the same nature as Perkin's, but
my claime
Wrongs have been done me which none have known but persons who kept th'
just, his built
on thin
aire.
secret of
my early life.
In
this
play you heare the chaf'd

their proper
lion's sullen roare,
and though the scenes have
place in the history of
Henry the Seventh's

and
its
time,
mania of
this
them
If
will
be found to relate other things of an after time.
you keepe
my
life
rude tumults in minde,
play that seemeth to relate such events in the reigne [of]

this
most mighty king,
shall portray
many
It
a scene in that
the vaine crie
of Elizabeth,
my owne
royall parent.
is
the tortured one doth utter ere the spirit doth quit the
earthly frame.
You
can proceed at once to collect
much matter
to-
gather in masse to be assorted, arranged, put aside for your

future use, as you have frequentlie received directions in
a great
many works and

hand of
in
more
places then one,
and
so
mark'd and disposed

brickes unto the
as to lie as readie to th'

th' builder.
hand, as
356
Many
it
a yeare I did
work upon
it
this
method
so
to perfect
as a
for use,
and I submit
to
you not
much
work
which
right,
shall
be to the advantage of myselfe, that in truth,

justice should
and the simplest
have the soveraignty
of th' kingdome, as one brought forth for the aggrandize-
ment
that
of the patient decypherer.
It is for this that I looke
out to that long future, not of years but of ages, knowing
my labours
are for benefit of a land very far

is
off,
and,
after great length of time

th' great harvest still
past,
Europe must
also reap
ripening as doth the yellowe graine

fall.
where
th'
sunshine doth
As
for th' Cypher-play
you have now
to write,
have brought each cipher block

speech) you comence
(I use a native
when you mode of

to
by polishing and rounding these
resemble such as the plays that yoij already have written

contain.
Many
parts are rough,
it
remains for your hand
to polish some, reconstruct others, nor leave unturned the

least portion of a line
which I have plac'd in the Historic

like prose workes,
suffice to give this further
of
King Henry the Seventh, and manie

as
inasmuch
attention.
my
time would not
But your experience hath well furnished the minde

with
all
our directions and rules for any worke of this
kinde, therefore our last play shall surelie hold a place
of equal ranke with those that have doubtlesse
come
to th'
hands of our publishers long ere
this.
For the decypher-
ing of these secret workes will hardly be so closelie hid,

or so secretly done as hath beene th^
preparation.
work
of
my
silent
In some places another word has beene conjoined,

confusion
as
may
arise if I give
not some
just signe, or other-
wise shewe which part of
my owne
life is related in this
NATURAL HISTORY.
play.
357
As
in the early part
which I spent
across the chan-
nell, surely in this
the same kind of guiding words set
this apart.
ity,
These, the words thus used, pertaine to human-
as for
example, mankinde, womankinde, and
all th'
kinds of names us'd in th' language to signify humankinde.
Seeke
all
the keies which are so guarded by a word that
I have pointed out thorow the
many
it
bookes.
Like fingers
of the
on a guide-post they
shall so direct the
way out
labyrinth that you can trace
with the penne as on a
map
shall
or chart.
All the rules given for th' other works

th' first
be used to decipher this play, and

this, as
thing to
table
do in
of
in
all,
must be making ready a true
my
guards, guides, keies, word-signs (or such as bring
these portiones into such relation or position, with regarde
each to the other, as before

tion to the
or those that do give a direc-
work so named) also th' numerous and diverse names that designate various works.
When
is
this
hath beene well prepared anie further delay

all else
unnecessary for
was but secundarie in
my
de-
signe.
If further directions bee requir'd they
must come
is
to light in the pursuance o' this work.
This in truth
in part
my
plan, as I have
found no rules can be render'd

This
not a
quite crystalline, finished and perfected, beforehand, but
use shall pollish them like glasses of

deficiency in
steel.
is
any of the
and
rules or direct'ons, but hath roote
in th' weaknesse
insufficiency that sheweth ever in a
man's
first
motions by another's suggestions.
Yet custome
a perfect
doth familiarize these notions

helpeth also
the
repitition o' th' action

th'
thereafter th'
hand of
man
is
and constant instrument obeying the

master-minde and
spirit.
will of a tirelesse
358
Thus the decyph'rer, part only of that instrument, doth

draw a hidden
secret forth, revealing marvellously strange
as
happenings as unknowne to himselfe
they have thus

outside
this
farre (necessarily) beene to all the world
microcosme
myselfe.
This must bee
so,
yet shall his
most importante labours in due time have the worthy

measure of reward that they undeniably but
justlie merit.
I must plant, I must sow, while none save hee shall

reape
my fields of ripening
not so immortall as
golden corn that must feed the
hungrie in future ages.

sia is
Th' gods' sweet nectar or ambro-
my
precious harvest shall be.

aide.
It
is
to
you I doe speak, and unto you do I looke for
I, alone,
am
like a child in its infancie,
weake and
help-
you must afford strength for my frame. Yours is the hand that must lead me whither my steps would go
lesse;
the guide, lamp, staffe indeed
my sole
hope and
least or
stale
^the
judge
who
is
to give sentence
upon the
upon the
I speak
greatest of the crimes
any of the persons of
whom
were guilty
tence
the one from whom I

my owne
life
shall expect just sen-
when
doth stand before you in judge-
ment.
When my
shall,
very soule doth
lie,
as the soules of
men
in-
before our Father's judgement seate, expos'd to the
eies of
men and
angels, I shall receyve all
men's praise
steed of a whole nation's or
manie
nations' contumely.
Then
my
love shall bee known, which would sacrifice
my
ease that
humanity might share in
all
these labours, reap-
ing rich benefits from
my
studies.
So must
th' sons of
my name bee
men; and
shall
revered in manie a land

old
countries
among
in
where learning doth flourish,
knowledge grow from these experiments or inquiries

th' naturall
new when
lawes have been more carefully sought.
NATURAL HISTORY.
It
359
must be well seene in many person's experience, that
while Fortune hath somewhat of a woman's nature, hastening her steps whenere pursued, studies and learning
may
all
be said to woo their
lovers.
Knowledge
if
will
reward
who
seeke th' real spirit or beautifull outward forme.
'No
ardente follower was ere unsatisfied,
he faltered not nor
wearied in a race up the lofty steeps of Olympus, and I
now
seeke th' dizzie top more eagerlie then I did in those
e'rly daies
when my bloud ran warme and

hang ore
side,
life itself e
was
as the first rayes of faire sunshine: for the
crowne then
seemed
to
to
my
head.
My
right was
made
plaine
me, and besides a great earnestnesse, a persisting upon

there should bee, and I doubt there was,
o'
my owne
some
secret
bending or stooping
as a card
my
mother's
spirit,
yet
my
fate
was
die cast
by hands of those bold
men, not
as a prince's shining destiny.
I f aine would attest

(naturally) did
how
painfull this acting parts soon
mortall
a
seeme unto my father, for, said hee, "A man may speak falselie upon occasion but he was strange man who dared live a falsehood;" nevertheless
live,
hee did
the unacknowledg'd
husband
of
Queene
Elizabeth,
my
mother.
artles actour,
and
oft did give sad trouble to
But hee was an unwise and most some of our
managers or
factors,
controllers, those in the haughtie Burleigh's
emploie, or th' hand and glove associates
who
served as his
but this was not of any momente.

schoolemaster.
The times were not a bad

resumed
When
my
former study of
th' state of th' nations,
and
most
patiently work'd out th' modell of government,
my
potent reason
may
be
justlie gather'd; for I
then did trust
to his hopefull spirit as a sonne naturallie should.
In
my
Cipher
as
you must soon

which I
still
see,
I have written out the aforeis
said modell,
thinke
worthy of
attention.
360
Make
Atlantis,
search for keies in another
work
stories,
entitled,
New
but looke on further for
directions.
Here you
work
as
may
finde a rule
by which Cipher
of value and
interest not onely in the time of
which
this secret
is
doth treate, but also

within some of
when
a future time
come, are put
my
other workes.
These are written
intending their printing, but no design of publication ere

did enter the plan that I formed of this opportune methode
of hiding
my
worke
until such time as one shall write
my
history.
This historic in the form of plays, concerneth a great
and most mightie sovereign, Queene Elizabeth, with mine
owne eventfuU life, the sorry course of the Earle that was mine apparent friend, when in fact he is my brother and my enemy, the reall pollicy that (as Queene of a
mighty people, and ruler above every other which then
did reigne
i'
th'
bounds
o'
Europe, Asia, or Americ) Elizais
beth pursued in relation to this matter, which

understood, with other diverse subjects.
now
mis-
This rule
is
as follows:
Keyes are placed usually
in
the same portion with joining words, that shewe which

parts
had stood in
juxtaposition.
The
parts are to stand
as in that
former or originall worke.
When
these are
all
joined together, you have those plaies, or prose historic,
poems, (the Illiad
o'
Homer is
concealed within the Cipher

I give in this man-
with Yirgil his ^neid) and so forth.

ner
many
of the principall themes and plans, but in the
Cipher you have the directions for writing the same.

I must have a trustworthie decipherer, a true writer,
and readie interpreter, or the best of

have neede
of a printer.
This
is
it
shewing out
my
true name, but
my work will never my onely manner of is well that my many
NATURAL HISTORY.
valued books have given the
renoiine or I might loose
361
name which
I bear worthiest
my
immortall honors
the fame
t'
that I would winne.
When
place
story
this
worke
is
finished,
you must returne

and finde
the
upon page two-hundred

begun
in Ce'tury Ten.
fifty-one,
th' secret
The keyes
are Paris, glove,
favour, embassador, French, lady, lord, childhood, king,
queene, child, love and wounds.
The
storie of
my
secret mission
is
thus begunne, for as
hath beene
said, I
was intrusted
at that
very time with

This
ap-
businesse requiring great secrecy and expediency.
was soe well conducted

provall,
as to
winne the Queene's frank

hope by meanes of
and I had a
livelie
this enter-
ing wedge to be followed by the request nearest unto

soule
[I] Sir
should so bende
Her
Majestie's
minde
to
my my
wish.
Amyias Paulet undertooke
to negotiate both
treaties at once,
and came thereby very near
to a breach
with the Queene, as well as disgrace at Henrie's Court.
Both
calamities, however,
were averted by such admirable
adroitnesse that I could but yield due respect to the finesse,
while discomforted by th' death of
my
hope.
From
that day I lived a doub'full

fro, or
life,
swinging like a
pendent branch to and

troublous desire.
love,
tempest toss'd by manie a
At
length I turned
my
attention
from
and used
all
my
time and wit to make such advance-
ment
in learning or atchieve such great profici(ci)ency in
studies that m.y
name
as a lover of Sciences should
bee best
known and most

than as
honoured, lesse for m'
owne agrandizement
sight
o'
an advantaging of mankind, but with some naturall
desires to approove
my worthinesse in th' my
my bookerights, not
loving and aspiring mother, beleeving that
by thus doing
I should advance
claime and obtayne
my
363

Cecill, his misapplied zeale in
aware of
bringing this to
Her
Majestie's notice, to convinc' her
minde that I had
noe other thought save a designe to winne sovraigntie in

her life-time.
I neede not assert
how
farre this
was from
th'
mj
heart at
jeal-
any time,
especiallie in
my
yonth, but
Queene's
ousie so blinded her reason that she, folowing th' suggestion of malice,
shewed
little
pride in
my
attempts, discov-
ering in truth
more envie then
naturall pride, and
more
hate than affection.
little
while therafter her troubles concerning
Mary
in-
of Scots began, and nothing else
had such exceeding
teresse in her eyes as th' least trifle of airey nothingnesse
which came
swaded, I
to us regarding her cousin.*
a wish to goe
thither took possession of her, and she
was almost
per-
am
well assured, to goe to Scotland with a gentle-
man from
that Court in the disguise of a youth, as page to
the gaye Courtier, whilst her chamber should, in her absence, be closed as
it
though suf'ring
so
much payne
as that
compelled her to deny audience to everie person save

Strafford
Lady
and
th' physitian.
But
this foolish
plann died ere
it
was brought to
ful-
nesse of time, thereby
making
it
apparent that at second

curiositie.
thought her wisedome doth exceede idole
For yeares
th'
wish lay quiescent.
Soone, in truth, the
Queene came hither requesting
a safe conduct into France.

it
This being harshly refus'd, th' ministers thinking
more
prudent at that time to allowe her such sure shelter in our
owne countrey
that she should be safe
from her enemies,
whilst in England, this poor

castle to another,
Queene was moov'd from one

as yet,
but was not
brought before Eliza-
beth.
* Shortly after the return of her rival to her native land Note. This MS. line omitted from the original. See Rawley's Explanation
(page
368).
NATURAL HISTORY.
Againe a
desire to looke
363
on the face of her foe
stirr'd
in her, so that
newe
curiosity
made her
inquire of
all
who
knew
ous
the lady concerning her beautie, hight, colour of
hair, qualitie of
her voyce, et csetera, verie like to the famOctavia, and, to gratify
Egyptian Queene regarding

it
her consuming desire

father to give
was soone arranged by
my ill-advis'd
Her
Majestic a sight of this Queene whilst
supping in quiet by invitation at his owne house.

Elizabeth,
angered by hearing what pass'd betweene
Queene Mary and
my
father, stept forth quickly, discover-
ing herselfe and administered a reproofe

stood farre better then
my
father under'Tis a subject
Queene Mary
this
could.
of wonder that
th' trouble that
it
did not signe both death warrants, for
was spoken of in
matter was constantly
increasing evidence that a
Cypher us'd in Mary's forraine
correspondence had beene the

plai'te
medium by which
a com-
had beene made of her treatment, and pleas widelie
disseminated for assistance.
The Queene
set
it
mee
at discyph'ring this,
nor can I
deny, indeed, that
grew
so clear that
it
would glimmer
through the dullest of
eies that the
imprisoned Queene did
not intende anything short of her owne proper enthronization.
She did
affect greatly
both France and Spaine,
partly because of her religion, and partly, in respect of
France, because of her brief, but happy union formerly
with Francis Second, a brother of Henry,
th' soveraigne
then on
difficult,
th' throne.
And whilst many

impossible,
and
to
me
of the epistles were

th' keie,
^not
having
to
decypher,
my
labor had better fruits then I on
my
owne
my-
part wish'd, for I had a secret sympathy for this poor wanderer although
selfe
by no menes
interesting or engaging
on anie dangerous chance.
364
As
I have said elsewhere in th' principall Cypher,
Her
Majesty had suspected

sunnie land of France.
ation
me
of open assistance
when
in th'
In truth that disagreeable insinu-
had much
to
doe with her decision respecting
my
owne marriage, not a wante of fitnesse in the parties. However, no act or written word could bee produced in proof,
or cited to
it
shew that I had ever had such sympathy,

eithe'
that
was shewn
openly or privately to herself e; the
jealous suspicions died
away and
my
assistance as adviser,
and I
may
say valuable counselour, was eamestlie desired.
'Tis a grievous fault, I, [ay] a dreadfull crime, to con-
spire as
Marie of Scots did against a great Queene.
Th^
very power and grandeur awakeneth a reverence or a veneration in th' heart, and give a sovereigne
with
oiir
Supreme Huler,
it
much in comon must not be soe inquired of.

by her prudent
its
Elizabeth, thereunto prompted

ers,
advis-
at length adopted a policie soe mild in
nature that
her foe could no'
make
just complaint,
and
th'
matter then
rested quiet a short time.-
Her
Majestic soften'd so
much
towards
my
unthinking
father, that instead o' driving him away implacably, she gave him command at once of her army in f oreigne warres, and disspatcht him as Master o' th' Horse of Her Majestie's
army
in th' E'etherlands.
A
ity
short respite followed,

th'
and had Queene Mary bin

avoyded; for
warned by
experiences of her very great danger, calamfinally

th'
might doubtlesslie have beene
divided minde of
there, at
Her
Majestic, swaying
now
here,
now
In
no time long clung
to revengeful
intents.
such incertainty was she, that a report of words that might
be conster'd as spoken with
t'reat or malice, another, folow-
NATURAL HISTORY.
ing
it,
365
should be set downe because of
its
kir.dnesse
and
forbearrance.
Such, however, was by no meanes Lord Burleigh's manner.
In truth, soe determined was hee not onelie that

o'
sentence
death should surely bee pronounc'd against her

triall,
when
she was brought to
if triall
that
may
bee
entituFd,
when
th'
haplesse prisoner
must needs
chose^
from the counsell of her foe

th'
to obtaine
any defender in
sentence
proceedings,
i'
but,
likewise,
that th' harsh
should not lingT
execution.
Soone there was a secret interview betweene Lord Burleigh [and] Earle of Leicester, to which
was summoned
the Queene's Secretary

ship
who was
and
so threaten'd
by
on paine
of death, et csetera, th' poor fool
his lord^that
hee
sign'd for the Queene,
affixed th' great scale to the
dreadful death-warrant.
The life of the Secretarie was forfeit to the deede when Her Majesty became aware that so daring a crime had beene committed, but who shall say that the blow fell on
the guilty head; for, truth to say, Davison was onely a
poor feeble instrumment in their handds, and

to
life
seem'd
hang
in th' ballance, therefore
blame doth
be,
fall
on those
to his
men, great and noble though they

death.
who
led
him
This sheweth any
who have thought
Elizabeth too
suffi-
severe to her cousin that, though she had prudence

ciente to keepe her arch-enemie in seclusion,
by no meanes
was
th' heart in that faire
bosom
so flintie as to send th'
woman to her death before her time. The Duke of Norfolk, it is quite true, lost his life through too much zeale to Mary's cause, united, it is said,
unfortunate
366
or springing from, a rash desire to
wed
the lady, notwith-
standing th' charges that were pref err'd against her.

ever, th' removall of one
How-
duke was but a smal mater com-
pared with that of a Queene.
man's head stood somenor did hee thinke his
what
life
tickle
on
th' shoulders then,
hard or cruell were such exit provided him.

to return to the narration,
to
But theame
which
is
a painfull
me now
as in that sad time,

o'
and furnish'd
me
th' subject
matter of one
my
Cypher tragedys that may
be found and written by aide of this argument,

rant of death reached Fotheringay
this
it
war-
much
it is
sooner then
was
expected by anie there attendant upon the wrongly accused
Queene
had
for whatever [her] fault,
know'e that
all plots
in her favour against the life of the Queene,
my
mother,
their origine outside of England, but being the center
thereof whether cognisant of

th' lawe,
them
or not she would,
by
be attaint of treason.
th' divorce
Furthermore, being(g) Catholick, she held

of
Henry Eight from Queene Katherine

and unjust;
his marriage with
unlawful!, in
verie truth,
Anne
Mary
Bolyne,
therefore, could but bee an unsanctified union and their
children bastards.
Granting
th' premise,
of Scots
should
have succeeded Mary
of England.
Againe I have somewhat

heavy I cannot follow
intervalls.
it
digress'd,
but the theame
is
soe
without taking short respite at
At
the appointed time on that sadd daie,
Mary
this
enter'd the great hall of her prison-castle,
which for
occasion
we
ree-draped in blacke, wearing a Ion' mourning
cloake that cover'd her from head to foote; with her were
her attendants.
stood in silence
The
by the
executioner, likewise in mourning,

blocke,
and dispos'd in paires about
NATURAL HISTORY.
the room, were the English Lords, Kent, Shrewsbury,
367
Mon-
tague and Derby
idlie conversing.
The Queene looked

calme and composed.
pale
from want
o'
rest
but was
She ask'd for the
services of her
owne
spake
priest; it
little
was refus'd with needlesse sternnesse.
She
more, pray'd in cleare tones for some minutes,

to
commended
th' quarrell
God her
suffering soule, to Phillip of Spaine
with England and her clayme to the throne.
Then she
stept
forward letting the cloake slide to the
floor
and stoode up before them in a robe of brave bloud-red,
and in that sweete, winsome waye most naturall
to
woman and to her in highest degree, she bade her waiting women farewell, thanked Lord Montague who had spoken
for her
when
th' lords sat in councell
and bade him adieu.

hesitation,
Afterward there came a moment of
minute, possibly for silente invocation,
onely
set
then she spake
graciously to each one in her presence and was ledd to
the blocke.
So ended Marie of
herein,
if
Scots,
but her sad story

still
is
downe
and in
my
heart her beautie
liveth as fresh as
she were yet amongst the living.
As hath beene
said, this is
hidden in
th'
works in
th'
form of a tragedie of such
interesse that I urge
upon
my
discyp'rer th' olt repeated wish for a carefull rendering of
my
of
work.
To such an one our worke

In hope, such
is left
nor can I
beleeve
all
it lost.
as doth inspire the hearts
those
who commit
their labours to th' future, I leave
you
my name
and labours.
";
FRA. SAINT ALB AN.
His lordship's part endeth here and I add but a fewe

lines to speake of th' errata.
Some words have [been]
left
out,
now and then one

also
repeated
are
thus
do
th' syllables
and
letters
sometimes appear,
sometimes have
stray'd
from
sight; but I trust the greater
number
of these
mistakes to your discretion.
Yet one statement should be

sense.
changed for a manuscript line omitted hurteth the
On
page two-hundredth and

:
sixty-five,
speaking of
Her
Majesty, reade
"Shortly after the return of her rivall to

et caetera."
her native land, desire to go thither,

(do)
This no
I
doubt
is
the chiefe thing omitted, but
thinke
proper under the existing circumstances, not wishin' (that)

his lordship's
much
right
priz'd epistle to
to sett
errours.
you
in
order that
make a beggarly entry, we may correct other
Respectfully your f aithfull f ellowe worker,
WILLIAM RAWLEY.
1
APPEN^DIX.
IRREGULAR PAGING OF ORIGINAL EDITIONS.
Advancement
of Learning.
17, 19, 24
Book
I.
Pages
16, 18, 34
occur twice;
are missing.
103 occur twice; 70, 99 occur
74 occur four times; 73, 105 mis-
Book
II.
Pages
6, 33, 79, 93, 94,
three times;
69,
placed; 9 missing.
Spenser's Faerie Queene.
Pages
10, 23
occur twice;
8,
33 missing.
Shakespeare Plays
Merry Wives of Windsor.

missing.
Pages
51, 58
occur twice;
50, 59
Comedy of Errors. Page 88 occurs twice; 86 missing. Midsummer Night's Dream. Pages 151, 163 occur twice;
161 missing.
153,
Merchant of Venice. Pages read 163, 162, 163, 166. As You Like It. Page 187 occurs twice; 189 missing. Taming of the Shrew. Page 212 occurs twice; 214 missing. All Is Well. Pages 251, 252 occur twice; 249, 250 missing. Twelfth Night. Page 273 occurs twice; 265 missing. Henry IV. Part I.Pages read 46, 49. Henry IV. Part II.Pages 91, 92 occur twice; 89, 90 missing.
Henry
VI.
Part III.Pages
167, 168
occur twice; 165, 166
missing.
Henry
Troilus and Cressida.
Page 218 occurs twice; 216 missing. Only two pages numbered 79, 80. Romeo and Juliet. Last two pages read 76, 79; missing, 77, In deciphering after 76 of R. and J. use 78 and 78. 79 of T. and C, then 79 of R. and J.
VIII.
Timon
of Athens.
Pages
81, 82
occur twice.
Hamlet.
Next
after page 156 is 257.
Page 259 occurs twice;
279 missing.
King Lear.
Cymbeline.
Page 308 reads 38. Page 389 occurs twice; 379 missing.
Page 390
reads 993.
APPENDIX.
Anatomy
of Melancholy (1628) Democritus to Reader. Pages 39, 40 occur twice. Anatomy. Pages 62, 78, 79, 86, 88, 89, 91, 114, 115,
583, 584
251, 259,
occur twice.
66,
Page 359 stands

99,
in place of
351,
360;
Pages
96,
98,
101,
214,
215,
359
missing.
De Augmentis.
Pages
67, 104, 273, 276, 284, 357, 361, 387,
396 occur
386,
twice;
187,
204,
248,
372,
376,
369,
383,
537
missing.
Natural History.
Page 39 occurs twice; 35 missing. In deciphering, the pages of the same number must be joined
If
for connected narrative.
a page occurs numbered ahead of
its
order, omit until its proper
number
is
reached, and decipher in
advance of
its duplicate.
it
regular order,
If a page occurs numbered later than its must be brought forward and follow its dupli-
cates in the order they occur in the books.
Some them are
of the irregularities are printer's errors, but
most
of
to bring pages together that were misplaced to further
hide the Cipher.
SPENSEK
" Spenser's Shepheardes Calender was in its day a book great interest, not only because it made the world acquainted with the new poet,' but also because it contained allusions to personages of distinction well known, and to circumstances From 1579-97, in a space of eighteen familiar to everybody.
'
'
'
years,
it
passed through
five different editions.
book is still interesting, but for other Firstly, as the earliest work of importance by the reasons. The Faerie Queen.' Secondly, because, as Dean writer of appropriately observes, it Church in his Life of Spenser marks a turning-point in the history of English literature twenty years had passed since the publication of Tottel's MisShepheardes Calender ^ cellany, and the appearance of the Thirdly, from the gave a new impulse to English Poetry. mysterious circumstances connected with its publication."
In our days the
'
little
'
'
'
'
'
are some of the " mysterious circumstances" 5th, 1579, " The Shepheardes Calender " was entered at Stationers' Hall, under the name of Hugh Singleton, according to the following transcript
The following
On December
Hughe
Singleton Lycenced unto him the Shepperdes Calender conteyninge xij eclogues proportionable to the xij monethes vjd.
;
Neither in the entry nor on title page is the author's name mentioned, but on its verso some dedicatory verses are signed "Immerito." ^
This edition is dedicated, or " Entitled to the Noble and Vertuous Gentlemen, most worthy of all titles, both of learning and chevalrie, M. Philip Sidney." " Printed by Hugh Singleton, dwelling in Creede Lane neere unto Ludgate at the signe of the gylden Tuntie, and are there to be solde."
Four copies of
1.
this edition are
known
to exist
No. 11,532 of the Grenville collection of the British
Museum.
2. 3.
4.
In the Bodleian Library, Oxford. No. 293 Capell, T. 9, in Library of Trinity College, Cambridge. No. 427 of the Huth Library.
:
The next four editions are published by John Harrison the younger, to whom Hugh Singleton assigned the book as follows
John harrison
:
29 October [1581] Assigned over from hugh Singleton to have the shep-
pardes callender, which was hughe Singleton's copie.
vjd.
The second edition was '^ Imprinted at London by Thomas East for John Harrison the younger, dwelling Pater noster Roe, 1581." at the signe of the Anker, and are there to bee solde. This second edition is olso dedicated to Philip Sidney. It is rare, but found in the Grenville Collection, in the Bodleian,
Trinity College, and
Huth
Libraries.
The third edition was " Imprinted at London by John Wolfe for John Harrison the yonger, dwelling in Pater noster
Roe, at the signe of the Anker.
1586."
The fourth edition was
" Printed
by John Windet
etc.
for
John
Harrison the yonger, dwelling Pater noster Roe,
1591."
The fifth edition was " Printed by Thomas Creede for John Harrison the yonger, dwelling Pater noster Roe, at the signe of the Anchor, etc. 1597."
In 1611, together with some other poems, the Shepheardes Calender appeared for the first time with the poet's name The Faerie Queen attached to it this volume has the title Together with the other works of The Shepheards Calendar England's Arch-Poet, Edm. Spenser. ^ Collected into one Volume and carefully corrected. Printed by H. L. for Mathew Lownes. Anno Dom. 1611, fol. This volume is dedicated to Queen Elizabeth thus To the Most High, Mightie, and Magnificent Emperesse, Renouned for Pietie, Vertue, and all Gracious Government Elizabeth, By the Grace of God, Queene of England, France, and Ireland, and of Virginia Defender of the Faith, &c. Her most humble Servaunt, Edmund Spenser, doth
; :
:
in all humilitie dedicate, present, and consecrate these his labours, to live with the eternitie of her Fame.
Spenser returned to England (1598) a ruined, heart-broken man, and died in the January following, tivelve years before the book was attributed to his authorship, and the above dedication to Queen Elizabeth.
By
luhat authority is this book claimed for Spenser.
The following
first edition.
lines are
from the dedicatory verses of the
Goe
As
little booke: thy selfe present, child whose parent is unkent:
But if that any aske thy name, Say thou wert base begot with blame: For thy thereof thou takest shame. And when thou art past jeopardee. Come tell me, what was sayd of mee: And I will send more after thee.
Immerito.
SIR FRANCIS BACON'S
CIPHER STORY.
DISCOVERED AND DECIPHERED BY
ORVILLE
W.
OWEN,
M. D.
IVORD CIPHER,
Sir ^vancis Bacon's

The
series of
(Etpl^cr
Story,
deciphered writings from the Shakespearean
Plays, the stage plays of Marlow, the works of Peele, Green,
Spenser and Burton, has reached the sixth book, and others in
process of translation.
ter so far deciphered, will be indicated
The character and scope of the matby the following
SYNOPSIS,
BOOK
Francis Bacon's Letter
I.
to the Decipherer, Embracing the plan of the work, explanation of methods, and reasons for writing the narrative in Cipher.
Epistle Dedicatory.
45
To him who
TJie Curse.
shall find the Cipher.
Description of Queen Elizabeth.
56
61-67
his humiliation.
Upon those who have caused Francis Bacon's Life.
97
Discovery that he was son of Elizabeth. his foster mother, Lady Ann Bacon.
Confirmation by
154 170
Description of the Reign of Elizabeth,
The Queen's Last Days.

Strangled by Robert Cecil.
184 190
Lady Ann Bacon
recounts to Francis The early life of Elizabeth and the end of the reign of- Mary.
BOOK
; ;
II.
Continues The account of Elizabeth the wooing of Leicester in the Tower bribes the Holy Friar to take him to Elizabeth frightens him into performing the marriage ceremony; plotting the death of Leicester's wife, Ay me Kobsart; Ayme Robsart visits the Queen; stormy
;
200 202
224 226 235 248
interview
death of
Ayme
Robsart.
Second Marriage of Elizabeth and Leicester. By Sir Nicholas Bacon, in the presence of Lady Ann Bacon
and Lord Puckering. Account interrupted by a summons from the Queen.
250 252
256
Elizabeth and Francis.
Banished
to
France.
The Spanish Armada.

Prologue.
Phillip II demands, through ambassadors, the hand of Elizabeth in marriage. The alternative of refusal, the wresting of the Crown from her ** unlawful hands " by war. Elizabeth's reply to the ambassadors. Pedigree of the Queen. Appearance of the Spanish Fleet.
263
The Great Storm.

Bacon's description,
ish
377
Bacon rescues Don Pedro, the Span-
Commander.
BOOK
The Spanish Armada
^
III.
40i 459 489 492 493
Continued. Bacon visits the Queen and pleads for his prisoner Don Pedro whom he rescued from drowning. Entrance of Lord High Admiral, Capt. Palmer and Sir Anthony Cook. Don Pedro before the Queen. Plea for mercy. *' The quality of mercy is not strain'd." The Queen " aweary of his speech," wishes to hear the Admiral's report of the battle, which is described. Capt. Drake tells of the second day's battle. Allegorical description giving the names of Spanish and EngAdmiral Howard recounts his lish vessels engaged. part in the fight. Capt. Drake describes the storm.
Capt. Palmer's experiences in the German Seas. Don Martin, a prisoner before the Queen. Bacon again begs for Don Pedro.
494
495 498 499 512 526 530 552 558 566
Enter
with letters. " The end has come." So by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole ArmfiSo of convicted sail
sailors
Is scatter'd
and disjoin'd from fellowship.

567
Epilogue.
Francis Bacon's Life at the Court of France
571
BOOK
Massacre of St. Bartholomew. Mary Queen of Scots.
Francis Bacon recurs
to
IV.
603
631
life,
his
ovm
650
652
it,
Hamlet.
Discovery by the Queen that Bacon wrote of the first copy.
and the fate

672
Tragedy of Mary Queen of
Scots,
Queen Elizabeth'' s Drea^n. Her indignation and horror at the death of Mary. " Queen. Who hath made bold with the great seal, and who
Hath
inscribed
702
my name?
764
Leicester.
Your
servant, th' secretary,
Brought the warrant to us, the great seal stamp'd upon't. Q. Then there was a league between you to hasten her Untimely death."
Foreign Ambassadors Presented. The Queen explains to them that her savage
765
council have cruelly slain Mary, and declares her intention to hang her secretary for insubordination,
767 771 782 786
Bacon Resumes
his '^Life in FranceP Interview between Bacon and Navarre. Prayer of Navarre. Intrigues to effect his escape from France.
BOOK
V.
801
Continues Bacon^s '-'-Life in France^^ Bacon discloses to Navarre that he is heir
to the throne of England, lawful son of Elizabeth and Leicester. Tells of his banishment and espouses Navarre's cause.
Navarre''s Attempt to Escape Frustrated. The grand hunt Navarre's flight.

;
834
BacorCs Visit
to the Huguenot Camp. Report of same to Henry III. and to Margaret of Navarre. Plan of the latter to escape to the camp.
871
Bacon Discloses
Ladder of
his Love to Margaret. cords. Disappointment. Interview with Friar. Farewell to Margaret.
926
BOOK VI
(in preparation.)
Conclusion of Bacon's
;
''''Life at the Court of France.'''^ Anjou's desertion of the Huguenots his trifling successes magnified the triumphs or fetes in his honor. Catherine's revival of " The Court of Love."
;
1001
Bacon Returns
to
England.
Stormy interview with Queen Elizabeth and Leicester. Paulet attempts to negotiate a marriage between Bacon and Margaret. Second banishment. Visit to Italy.
Bacon follows
the
Queen-mother
to the
South.
Public Trial of Queen Margaret.
The Assassination of the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal

of Lorraine.
Henry IIL. and Navarre johi forces

Navarre declared Heir
to the
to
besiege Paris*
Throne of France,
England.
Assassination of the King.
Death of Nicholas Bacon; Francis Recalled
to
"
Synopsis of
Treason.
*
"The
*
Historical
Tragedy
of flary
Queen
of Scots.'*
The Law of
Act 1. Scene /.Interview between Queen

to bring
Elizabeth and Counsellor Francis Bacon.
* Queen Klizabeth commands the presence of Leicester, who arranges to his house in London for an interview. Scene 2 Banquet room at house of Leicester. Leicester and Mary at banquet table. Queen Elizabeth secretly enters; hides behind statue. Mary proposes marriage to Leicester, they to be rulers of the French, English and Scottish realms. Elizabeth steps forth, " Doth Scotland make your Majesty our jiidgef'' Mary in surprised alarm, "'Alas, I am undone! It is the Queen.'" Interview between Elizabeth and Mary; withdrawal of Elizabeth and Leicester.
Mary
Act W. Scene /.In

and
Act
front of Tower; time, midnight. Stormy interview between Queen Elizabeth Leicester; the jealous Queen declares his banishment; thrusts him away and enters. Leicester in rage: "/// empty all these veins, and shed my blood Drop by drop z' th' earth ere I will go ! Let my soul want mercy if I do notjoin With Scotland, in her behalf.'' Enter Francis Bacon, who counsels a different course. Leicester requests Bacon to plead for him to the Queen. Scene 2 Audience room of Palace. Bacon pleads for Leicester; calls upon himself the wrath of the Queen; takes leave. '' No power I have to speak, I know. nd so, farewell, I, and my griefs will go. Enter Leicester; begs that he be not banished; Queen repents. " Restrain thy apprehension; I will lay trust upon thee. And thou shall find I will preserve and love thee. I have conferred on thee the commandment of mine army beyond the sea." Lords seated at table: Queen on the throne; 111. Scene /.Council Chamber of Palace. Elizabeth announces that Leicester is to command her armies in Ireland. Strongly
'
opposed by the Lord Chancellor; Leicester accused of treason. The Queen overrules the council; makes him General and administers the oath. Scene 2. Council Chamber twelve months later. Queen Elizabeth presents the treasons of Mary Queen of Scots; gives letter of commission for her trial. Act IV. Scene /.Room in Fotheringay Castle; lords, knights, captains, lawyers and gentlemen in attendance. Queen Mary before the Court; notes the absence of the English Queen; demands her presence Will be tried by her peers, and not by servants of lesser degree; Council show warrant. Mary denies the charges; so impresses and moves the Court that Chief Justice suddenly adjourns the Court to London, fearing that by her eloquence an(i beauty she be acquitted Scene ^. Room in Tower of London; Court convenes to convict Mary; Montague speaks strongly for her; members cry Guilty! guilty! ^CT v. Scene /.Palace of the Queen. Elizabeth and train, "Q. E. Fie, what a slug is Warwick, he comes not To tell us whether they will that she shall die or no. Ah! In good time here comes the sweating lord." (Enter Warwick.'} He announces the decision of '* guilty." Enter Lords of Council; they present Elizabeth She does not si^n it. the warrant for Mary's death ''Q. E. My lord, I promise to note it cunningly; But here come the ambassadors of our brothers of France and Spain." Enter ambassadors, who plead for the life of Mary. Scene 2. Sir^GX, in London. Enter Burleigh and Secretary of the Queen (Davison); met by Leicester. All enter a public house. ,Sc^<? J. Private room; Burleigh and Leicester force the Secretary to forge the Queen's name to the warrant for Mary's execution. Scene ^.Chamber in Fotheringay Castle Queen Mary and maids. Enter English Lords. ''Q. M. Welcome, my lords.- Why do you come. IsH for my life? Lord Shrewsbury. Tis now midnight, and by eight tomorrow thou must be made immortal. Tomorrow? tomorrow! Oh! that's sudden. Q. M. How! My lord! Oh! this subdues me quite. ^* * * *
'
Good, good my lord, if I must die tomorrow. Let me have some reverend person To advise, comfort a nd pray with me.'"' (This is refused.) Scene 5.^z\\ of Fotheringay Castle, hung with black. Platform and block at end. English Lords and Gentlemen, executioner, and assistants. Enter Queen Mary dressed in black and red velvet gown. The executioner assures her "I will be as speedy in your death as all the poisonous potions in the world.
And you shall feel no pain.''''

Mary addresses
''And ifyou
tell
the Lords, denies the charges, asserting that they shed innocent blood,
the heavy story right,
will shed tears. Yea, even my foes will shed fast falling tears. And say it was a piteous deed to take mefrom The world, and send my soul to heaven.''^
*
*'
upon my soul the hearers
(She kneels and prays): me, and receive my fainting soul again ! Oh be thou merciful! as Thou know'st, unjustly which, blood our true with sister be satisfied And let our princely must be spilled ! Oh God, send to me the 7vater from the well of life, and by my death stop Let me be blessed for the every side on quietness ! 'stablish blood and effusion of Christian
Oh God, have mercy upon
Mace I make. Amen.''

" Farewell, sweet Lords;
let's
(Rises.)
meet in heaven.
to the block."
Good my Lord of Derby, lead me
(Speaks to Executionei.)
Finis
PUBLISHERS NOTE.
The present volume, "The Tragical History
Brother,
of
Our Late
its
Earl of
Essex,"
is
published separately, out of

itself,
consecutive order, being

thrilling
earlier
complete in
and of the most

it
interest
and
historical
value,
that
may
be the
enjoyed as one of the marvels of literature, in advance,
of
its
appearance as a part of the later books of the series of
Sir Francis Bacon's Cipher Writings.
Like its immediate predecessor, "The Tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots," it has been deciphered from the Shakespeare Plays, and o.ther work^ of Bacon, by means of the Cipher system, discovered by Doctor Owen, through which the hidden
histories are being brought to light.
In the
1893,
first
book of the
"
Cipher Story," issued in October,
was the astounding statement that the great Chancillor the son of Queen Elizabeth and Robert Dudley, Earl of was and that Robert, Earl of Essex, was his brother. Leicester Corroboration of this is found in the recently published British
;
" Dictionary fof National

:
Biography," Vol. 16, page 114, under

relations with
It
the heading " Dudley " Whatever were the Queen's death, they became closer after.
Dudley before his wife's was reported that she was formally betrothed to him, and that she had secretly married him in Lord Pembroke's house, and that she was a mother already." January, 1560-1. "In 1562 the reports that Elizabeth had children by Dudley were revived. One Robert Brooks, of Devizes, was sent to prison for publishing the slander, and seven years later a man named Marsham, of Norwich, was punished for the same offence."
This Tragedy confirms the statement.
The
Comedy
referred to
in
the Prologue
is
now being
translated.
"The players that come forth, will to the life present The pliant men that we as masks employ
An excellent device to tell the plot. And all our cipher practice to display."
HOWARD PUBLISHING
March, 1895.
CO.
'
INTRODUCTION.
The work of deciphering the literature, in which the Cipher Bacon is found, reveals details of English history of wonderful interest, which only a participant in the events Inwrought into this literature was hidden the could record. " Tragedy of Mary Queen of Scots," embracing Mary's attempts to gain the English crown, her trial, and her tragic end, written This was published in December, 1894, and has been as a Play.
of Sir Francis
pronounced a masterpiece.
Peele, Greene,
Portions of
it
were found in every
play attributed to Shakespeare, and in the writings of Spenser,
Marlow, Burton, and Francis Bacon.

it is
Although
of Bacon's
a remarkable production,
believed to be the
first
writings of historical
from the
ters of
earlier
drama in Cipher, and it is works and plays, before they were
enlarged in 1608-17-23, incorporating later
drawn re-written and histories, and matchiefly
profound philosophical significance.
This " Tragedy of Essex," obtained from the same sources,

is
a later production, and bears the impress of greater
skill,
more
it
experience,
and
far
more intense personal
feeling.
In
are
It
interwoven most important passages of Bacon's

Essex,
own
life.
explains Bacon's participation in the trial and conviction of
and the seeming ingratitude which has so long been thought a blot upon the fame of the Lord High Chancillor. It was a life for a life Essex was foredoomed to death. The Queen sought excuse in law for the
his benefactor,
!
who had been
deed
her
commands were
Queen, *
imperative
*
i'
A worthy
Without
officer
th'
Robert Essex was wars, but insolent,
O'er-come with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving, and affecting one sole throne,
assistance.
* * Francis Bacon. O, I think not so. Q. Villain I'll set a point against thy breast. If thou dost not use most dear employment In what I further shall intend to do. By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint, And strew a hungry churchyard with thy limbs The time and my intents are savage wild, More fierce and more inexorable far, Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea. Put not another sin upon my head. * * By urging me to fury. O, begone! * * F. B. To revenge is no valor, but to bear. To be in anger, is impiety. Q. But who is born that is not angry? Weigh but the crime with this. Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blows Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power Both are alike, and both alike we like:
!
greatest. F. B. Believe this, Madam, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the King's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Becomes them with one half so good a grace * * As mercy does. Q. I was not born to die on Essex' sword * * In the name o' th' people. And in the power of us their Queen, we
One must prove
Will push destruction and perpetual shame Out of the weak door of our fainting land. See, here in bloody lines we have set down And what is written shall be executed Your brother is to die, as his offences Are accounted to the law. F. B. O your Grace, Are not you then as cruel as the sentence? I know no law. Madam, that answering One foul wrong, lives but to act another.
Q. Be satisfied Your treacherous brother dies
:
be content. F. B. Oh, it is excellent, your Majesty, To have a giant's strength but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. Q. Peace, peace sir, peace. Were I not the better part made of mercy,
;
should not seek an absent argument my revenge, thou present, thou traitor. * Look to it, thou villain. Thy life's dependent on thy brother's death. Let our instruction to thee be thy guide, Under penalty of thine own false head. F. B. I do partly understand your meaning. Q. Why then, go get thee home, thou fragment vile Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know 'Tis death for death, a brother for a brother: Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure.
Of *
Synopsis of
,CT i.Scene
The
Tragical Historic of tlie Earl of Essex."
PROLOGUB. /.Horns and trumpets sound. Enter Queen Elizabeth with hounds and dogs, returning from hunt Queen and Huntsman. Enter Earl of Essex and Francis Bacon. Queen dismisses attendants. Essex announces insurrection in Ireland. Scene 2 Palace. Stormy discussion over assignment of commander of forces for Ireland. " Take thou that.''' (Boxes his ears.) Queen to Essex Essex assays to draw his sword defies her and leaves in a rage. Queen relents, and sends the Admiral and Cecil to call him back Scene ?. Cecil, Solus. Enter Essex the quarrel and blow. Scene V- Queen and Cecil. Prayer of the Queen I that never weep, now tnelt with zvoe.
: ; ; :
'"'
That my ungracious son doth hate nie so.'' Scene 5. Lady Essex warns the Earl against Cecil. Bacon and Essex. CT 11. Scene i. Elizabeth and Lords. Queen announces that Essex will go Dismisses all but Essex, to whom she promises, The next de^-ee shall be England's royal throne, for King 0/ England Shall you be proclaimed in every boroug/t,''' Scene 2. Essex outlines his puposes in Ireland. Scene j. Essex and Bacon farewell. CT 111 Scene /.Cecil tells the Queen that Essex is returning with an army. Scene 2. Elizabeth walks in her sleep. Her horrible dream. Queen Scene 3.^^^ chamber of Queen noisy arrival of Essex. The Queen
Rival claims to the Crown.

to Ireland.
****
;
" Bless
thee.,
my
*
and ladies in prayer. bids that he be admitted.
blessed boy,
if
Then, sir, ivithdraiv, and in an hou7- return^ Ladies in waiting dress the Queen in handsome robes. Essex returns Queen embraces him. He discourses of Ireland and claims the Dukedom of York. (Exit.) Enter Cecil, who frightens the Queen with false reasons for Essex's sudden return. Scene 4. Bacon tells Es.sex of Cecil's intrigues, and bids him fly to France. Enter Queen; Shows displeasure at Essex's return, and bids him go to his home. CT IV. Scene /.Council Chamber. Queen informs Essex he must appear before the CouuciL
;
* * But if, sir. You be put in bondage, appeal to
And deliver
us this ring.
us. *
"
Essex before the Council. Insults Cecil. Scene 2. Essex commanded to close confinement in his house. Scene s.QnarTcXs with his brother Francis Bacon. Scene 4. Queen and Bacon. Bacon pleads for Essex. Interrupted by news of Essex's revolt. Scene 5. Gate of Essex's House. Lords demand his surrender Ess'ex's soldiers surround and take them away. Scene 6. Street in London. Essex endeavors to incite the mob to burn and plunder. Scene 7. Front of Essex's House Essex on walls. Alarms and clash of arms. Summoned to parley descends is arrested and conveyed to the Tower.
Queen. " Where is the Earl ? " ^^ Cecil. ^''In the Tower, Your Grace. CT v. Scene /.Order for the trial of Essex. Scene 2. Queen and Francis Bacon plea for pardon of Essex. Queen. Your treacherous brother dies! *
;
''''
Scene <y. Palace.
>:<
Thy
li/e^s
dependent on thy
* *
brother'' s death.
Let our instruction to thee be thy guide. Under the penalty of thine own false head.
*
'
'
Peruse this writing here, and thou shall know Tis death for death, a brother for a brother; Haste still pays hatte, and leisure answers leisure: Like doth quit like, and jueasure still for measure.^'' Trial of Essex. He denounces Cecil. Essex condemned to execution. .SVr^<f J. Star Chamber. 6"c<r^^. Streets of London. Essex under guard; axe, edge toward him led to dungeon. .SV-^< 5. Garden of Palace. Lady Essex and child before the Queen pleads for Essex's life. Francis Bacon supports her and supplicates the Queen, without result. * '' * Queen, Til see that he Be executed by nine to-morrow morning.'''' Scene 6. Dungeon. Essex. " No bending knee will call me Caesar now^^ (Enter Bacon.) O thou damned cur; Whom to call brother would infect my mouth. Get thee gone, thou most wicked sir!
;
;
''/s it my fault that I was forced to plead? How much thou 7urongst tne. Heaven be my judge " Essex upbraids him with sharpest scorn. Enter Lord Keeper commands Bacon to depart gives commission to jailor. Jailors bind Essex in a chair show him the order. ^^ Must you with hot irons burn out both my eyes ?
Bacon,
Cut out my tongue so thai I may still keep Both mine eyes.''"' (Jailor tears out one eye, then the other.)
''All
***** ******
dark and comfortless! God enkindle all the sparks of nature

To quit this horrid act .'" Jailor, ^''Away with html lead him
to the block .'"
GENERAL LIBRARY
U.C.
BERKELEY
BDDDfll.7333
Ml664t
THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

Bi Literal Cypher of Francis Bacon

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Bi Literal Cypher of Francis Bacon

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!

ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP

S" Francis Bacon

ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP

DETROIT. MICHIGAN, U.S.A.:

Entered at Stationers' Hall,

All rights reserved.

Elizabeth Wells Gallup

Explanatory Introduction First Edition

Stenography in the time of Queen Elizabeth Francis Bacon, Biographical

BI-LITERAL CYPHER. DECIPHERED SECRET STORY. 1579

The Ar aygfnement of Paris The Mirrour of Modestie.

Robert Greene Robert Greene Robert Greene

DECIPHERED SECRET STORY FROM

Faerie Queene, 1596

Faerie Queene, second part

John Oldcastle and Merchant

of Venice, Roberts Ed.,

Treasons of Essex, 1601

Hamlet, 1611 Titus Andronicus, 1611

Yorkshire Tragedy, 1619

ROBERT GREENE: A Quip For an

Upstart Courtier, 1620

FRANCIS BACON: Novum Organum,

The Parasceve Henry The Seventh,

Sylva Sylvarum, 1635, Rawley's Preface Natural History

William Rawley's Note

CONCORDANT INDEX OF DECIPHERED WORK

Heir to Throne of England 5,

10, 14, 16, 20, 28, 33, 38, 49,

Remorse over Essex and

21, 40, 47, 104,

3, 9, 11, 13, 27, 69, 81, 102, 129, 148, 187,

Hope from the Ages13,

104, 139, 160, 178, 186, 211, 338.

140, 207, 210, 359, 363.

139, 142, 154, 172, 312, 334.

29, 38, 40, 47, 76, 172, 180, 208.

Death Warrant signed by Davison

10, 12, 18, 28, 172, 174, 335, 362.

PRIVATE SECRETARY (RAWLEY):

191, 194, 200, 215, 218, 312, 343, 346.

of Construction 53, 94, 119, 146, 187, 196, 214, 341,

343, 356, 360.

215, 349, 352.

difficult66, 67, 82, 101, 136, 196.

39, 54, 56, 63, 70. 93. 101, 111, 115,

157, 158, "166, 181, 198, 200, 204, 348.

10, 26, 53, 93, 111, 166, 180, 181, 198.

Robert Burton 10,

111, 114, 152, 198, 200, 204.

Ben Jonson 26,

54, 59, 68, 111.

PARTIES KNOWING OP THE HIDDEN WORK:

NEW ATLANTIS COMPLETED IN CIPHER:

SPANISH ARMADA IN CIPHER:

ARGUMENTS OP THE HIDDEN PLAYS:

ORIGINAL EDITIONS OF WORKS USED IN DECIPHERING. CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED.

Colin Clout, 1595 The Faerie Queene, 1596

The Shepherd's Calendar, The Faerie Queene, 1613

Dodd, Mead Dodd, Mead Dodd, Mead

& & &

ROBERT GREENE: A Quip for an Upstart

Boston Public Library.