A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of The English Nation v. 4

R >> Richard Hakluyt >> The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of The English Nation v. 4




34 Also we of our goodnesse haue granted the sayd company of English
merchants, their successours, seruants and deputies, that doe or shall
remaine at Mosco, or elsewhere within our dominions freely to keepe their
owne law: and in any wise none of ours to force them to our law or faith
against their will.

Moreouer, besides and with the company of English merchants, we permit all
strangers, to trade to our towne of Narue, Iuanogorod, and other our townes
of Liefland, as they haue done beforetime. Giuen from the beginning of the
world 7077, in the moneth of Iune 20, Indiction 12, the yere of our
lordship and reign 35, and of our Empire of Rusland 23. Cazan 17, Astracan
15.

* * * * *

Other speciall grants by his Maiesties priuate letters at the sute of M.
Randolfe Ambassadour.

Releasement out of prison of Fitzherbert, that was accused for writing of
letters against the Emperour.

Liberty giuen to Thomas Greene that was accused and troubled vpon suspition
of his dealing with the Ambassadour, and licence giuen to him to trafficke
as he was accustomed.

Andrew Atherton and his sureties released at the Narue and his seruant at
the Mosco, that were in trouble for sending the merchants letters into
England.

A letter granted to Thomas Southam to the Councell, for iustice against
them that stole the pearles.

His Maiesties fauor promised to the Artificers, and liuings to be appointed
them as they can best deserue.

A letter to the merchants that went into Persia, to passe freely without
impeachment in his dominions, as also letters of fauour to the great Shaugh
of Persia.

A grant vnto the company that at what time soeuer they send to the
discouery of Cataya, they shalbe licenced to repaire vnto this countrey,
and haue such conducts and guides, mariners, vessels, men and victuals as
they shall stand in need of.

It is also promised by Knez Alfanas, and Peter Gregoriwich in the Emperours
name, that if Benet Butler or any English man complaine, deface, hinder in
way of traffike or otherwise go about to discredit the worshipfull company,
and their doings, that therein they shall not be heard, and the doers to be
punished, as in such cases they shalbe iudged to haue deserued.

Certaine persons granted to be sent home into England that serued the
company, and were practisers against them in that countrey.

* * * * *

A Commission giuen by vs Thomas Randolfe Ambassadour for the Queenes
Maiestie in Russia, and Thomas Bannister, &c. vnto Iames Bassendine,
Iames Woodcocke and Richard Browne, the which Bassendine, Woodcocke, and
Browne we appoint ioyntly together, and aiders, the one of them to the
other, in a voyage of discouery to be made (by the grace of God) by them,
for searching of the sea, and border of the coast, from the riuer
Pechora, to the Eastwards, as hereafter foloweth Anno 1588. The first of
August.

In primis, when your barke with all furniture is ready, you shall at the
beginning of the yere (assoone as you possibly may) make your repaire to
the Easterne part of the riuer Pechora, where is an Island called
Dolgoieue, and from thence you shall passe to the Eastwards alongst by the
Sea coast of Hugorie, or the maine land of Pechora, and sailing alongst by
the same coast, you shall passe within seuen leagues of the Island Vaigats,
which is in the straight, almost halfe way from the coast of Heugorie, vnto
the cast of Noua Zembla, which Island Vaigats and Noua Zembla you shall
finde noted in your plat [Footnote: map], therefore you shall not need to
discouer it: but proceed on alongst the coast of Hugory, towards the riuer
Obba.

[Sidenote: Cara Reca. Naramsi Reca.] There is a Bay [Footnote: Gulf of
Kara.] betweene the sayd Vaigats, and the riuer Obba, that doth bite to the
Southwards, into the land of Hugory, in which Bay are two small riuers, the
one called Cara Reca [Footnote: River Kara.], the other Naramsy [Footnote:
Probably the River Juribei.], as in the paper of notes which are giuen to
you herewith may appeare: in the which Bay you shall not need to spend any
time for searching of it, but to direct your course to the riuer Ob (if
otherwise you be not constrained to keepe alongst the shore) and when you
come to the riuer Ob you shall not enter into it, but passe ouer vnto the
Easterne part of the mouth of the sayd riuer.

And when you are at the Easterne part of Obba Reca, you shall from thence
passe to the Eastwards, alongst by the border of the sayd coast, describing
the same in such perfect order as you can best do it. You shall not leaue
the sayd coast or border of the land, but pass alongst by it, at least in
sight of the same, vntil you haue sailed by it so farre to the Eastwards
and the time of the yeere so farre spent, that you doe thinke it time for
you to returne with your barke to Winter, which trauell may well be 300 or
400 leagues to the Eastwards of the Ob, if the Sea doe reach so farre as
our hope is it doth: but and if you finde not the said coast and sea to
trend so farre to the Eastwards, yet you shall not leaue the coast at any
time, but proceed alongst by it, as it doth lie, leauing no part of it
vnsearched, or seene, vnlesse it be some bay, or riuer, that you doe
certeinly know by the report of the people, that you shall finde in those
borders, or els some certeine tokens whereby you of your selues may iudge
it to be so. For our hope is that the said border of land and sea doth in
short space after you passe the Ob, incline East, and so the Southwards.
And therefore we would haue no part of the land of your starreboord side,
as you proceed in your discouery, to be left vndiscouered.

But and if the said Border of land do not incline so to the Eastwards as we
presuppose it, but that it doe proue to incline and trend to the
Northwards, and so ioyne with Noua Zembla, making the sea from Vaigats to
the Eastwards but a bay: yet we will that you do keepe alongst by the said
coast, and so bring vs certaine report of that forme and maner of the same
bay.

And if it doe so proue to be a bay, and that you haue passed round about
the same, and so by the trending of the land come backe vnto that part of
Noua Zembla that is against Vaigats whereas you may from that see the said
Island Vaigats, if the time of the yeere will permit you, you shall from
thence passe alongst by the said border and coast of Noua Zembla to the
Westwards, and so to search whether that part of Noua Zembla doe ioyne with
the land that Sir Hugh Willoughbie discouered in anno 53, [Footnote: There
is, of course, no such land.] and is in 72 degrees, and from that part of
Noua Zembla 120 leagues to the Westwards, as your plat doeth shew it vnto
you: and if you doe finde that land to ioyne with Noua Zembla, when you
come to it, you shall proceed further along the same coast, if the time of
the yere will permit it, and, that you doe think there will be sufficient
time for you to returne backe with your barke to Winter either at Pechora
or in Russia, at your discretion: for we refer the same to your good
iudgements, trusting that you will lose no time, that may further your
knowledge in this voyage.

Note you, it was the 20 of August, 56 yer the Serchthrift began to returne
backe from her discouerie, to Winter in Russia, and then she came from the
Island Vaigats, being forcibly driuen from thence with an Easterly winde
and yce, and so she came into the riuer Dwina, and arriued at Colmogro the
11 of September, 56. If the yce had not bene so much that yere as it was in
the Streights, on both sides of the Island Vaigats, they in the said
pinnesse would that yere haue discouered the parts that you are now sent to
seek: which thing (if it had pleased God) might haue bene done then: but
God hath reserued it for some other. Which discouerie, if it may be made by
you, it shall not only proue profitable vnto you, but it will also purchase
perpetuall fame and renowme both to you and our country. And thus not
doubting of your willing desires, and forwardnesse towards the same, we
pray God to blesse you with a lucky beginning, fortunate successe, and
happily to end the same. Amen.


Necessarie notes to be obserued, and followed in your discouerie, as
hereafter followeth.

When your barke with all furniture and necessaries shall be in readinesse
for you to depart to the sea (if it be that you take your barke at S.
Nicholas, or any part of Dwina Reca) you shall from thence, euen as timely
in the spring as the yce will permit you, saile, and make all expedition
that may be, vnto the mouth of the riuer Pechora (as your commission doth
leade you) and as you passe by the coast all alongst (notwithstanding the
plat that sheweth you the description of the said coast, from Dwina vnto
Vaigats) yet you shall seeke by all the meanes that you can, to amend the
same plat, vsing as many obseruations, as you possibly can do: and these
notes following are to be obserued by you principally.

1 First, that you do obserue the latitude as often, and in as many places
as you may possibly do it, noting diligently the place where you do so
obserue the same.

2 Also that you doe diligently set with your compasse, how the land doth
lie from point to point, all alongst as you goe, and to vse your iudgements
how farre there may be betweene ech of them.

3 Item, that you do alwayes vse to draw the proportion and biting of the
land, aswell the lying out of the points, and headlands, vnto the which you
shall giue some apt names (at your discretion) as also the forme of the
Bayes, and to make some marke in drawing the forme, and border of the same,
where the high cliffes are, and where low land is, whether sandy hilles, or
whatsoeuer: omit not to note any thing that may be sensible and apparant to
you, which may serue to any purpose.

4 In passing along by any coast, that you keepe your lead going often
times, and sound at the least once euery glasse, and oftener if you thinke
good as occasion doth serue, and note diligently the depth with the maner
of the ground, and at euery time, how farre the same sounding may be from
the next shore to it: and how the next point or headland doth beare from
you. And in the sea after you set off from your port, you shall orderly at
the end of euery foure glasses sound, and if you finde ground, note the
depth and what ground, but if you can finde no ground, you shall also note
in what depth you could find no ground.

5 Also that you do diligently obserue the flowing, and ebbing in euery
place, and how the tides do set, which way the flood doth come, and how
much water it doth high in euery place, and what force the same tide hath
to driue a ship in an houre, as neere as you can iudge it.

6 Also that you doe seeke to obserue with the instrument which I deliuer
you herewith, according as I taught you at Rose Island, the true
platformes, and distances, in as many places as conueniently you may, for
it serueth very aptly your purpose.

7 Also that you take with you paper and ynke, and keepe a continuall
iournall or remembrance day by day, of all such things as shall fall out
worth the knowledge, not forgetting or omitting to write it, and note it,
that it may be shewed and read at your returne.

8 These orders if you shall diligently obserue, it will be easie for you to
make a plat and perfect description of your discouery, and so shall your
notes be sufficient to answere that which is looked for at your hands. But
withall you may not forget to note as many things as you can learne and
vnderstand by the report of any people whatsoeuer they be, so that it
appertaine any way to our desires. And thus the Lord God prosper your
voyage, Amen. [Footnote: Though dated 1588, this journey took place in
1578. Nothing is really known of the result of the expedition; but it has
been supposed that the English vessel, which was wrecked at the mouth of
the Ob about 1580, and whose crew was massacred by Samoyeds (_Purchas_,
iii. p. 546; _Hamel_, p. 238), was the one bearing Bassendine and his
companions.]

* * * * *

Certaine letters in verse, written by Master George Turberuile [Footnote:
Born at Whitchurch about 1530; educated at New College, Oxford; supposed
to have died about 1600. "Occasional felecity of diction, a display of
classical allusion, and imagery taken from the customs and amusements of
the age ate not wanting; but the warmth, the energy, and the enthusiasm
of poetry are sought for in vain." (_Drake_, Shakespeare and his Times,
p. 456).] out of Moscouia, which went as Secretarie thither with Master
Tho. Randolph, her Maiesties Ambassadour to the Emperour 1568, to
certeine friends of his in London, describing the maners of the Countrey
and people.

To his especiall friend Master Edward Dancie. [Footnote: Probably the
grandson of Sir Thomas Moore, and son of his second daughter, Elizabeth
Dancy.]

My Dancie deare, when I recount within my brest,
My London friends, and wonted mates, and thee aboue the rest:
I feele a thousand fits of deepe and deadly woe,
To thinke that I from land to sea, from blisse to bale did go.
I left my natiue soile, full like a retchlesse man,
And vnacquainted of the coast, among the Russes ran:
A people passing rude, to vices vile inclinde,
Folke fit to be of Bacchus traine, so quaffing is the kinde.
Drinke is their whole desire, the pot is all their pride,
The sobrest head doth once a day stand needfull of a guide.
If he to banket bid his friends, he will not shrinke
On them at dinner to bestow a douzen kindes of drinke:
Such licour as they haue, and as the countrey giues,
But chiefly two, one called Kuas, whereby the Mousiket[1] liues.
Small ware and waterlike, but somewhat tart in taste,
The rest is Mead of honie made, wherewith their lips they baste.
And if he goe vnto his neighbour as a guest,
He cares for litle meate, if so his drinke be of the best.
No wonder though they vse such vile and beastly trade,
Sith with the hatchet and the hand, their chiefest gods be made.
Their Idoles haue their hearts, on God they neuer call,
Vnlesse it be (Nichola Bough)[2] that hangs against the wall.
The house that hath no god, or painted Saint within,
Is not to be resorted to, that roofe is full of sinne.
Besides their priuate gods, in open places stand
Their crosses vnto which they crooche, and blesse themselues with hand.
Deuoutly downe they ducke, with forehead to the ground,
Was neuer more deceit in ragges, and greasie garments found:
Almost the meanest man in all the countrey rides,
The woman eke, against our vse, her trotting horse bestrides.
In sundry colours they both men and women goe,
In buskins all, that money haue on buskins to bestoe.
Each woman hanging hath a ring within her eare,
Which all of ancient vse, and some of very pride doe weare.
Their gate is very braue, their countenance wise and sadde.
And yet they follow fleshy lustes, their trade of liuing badde.
It is no shame at all accompted to defile
Anothers bedde, they, make no care their follies to concile,
Is not the meanest man in all the land but hee,
To buy her painted colours doeth allow his wife a fee,
Wherewith she deckes her selfe, and dies her tawnie skinne,
She pranks and paints her smoakie face, both brow, lip, cheeke, and chinne.
Yea those that honest are, if any such there bee
Within the land, doe vse the like: a man may plainely see.
Vpon some womens cheekes the painting how it lies,
In plaister sort, for that too thicke her face the harlot dies.
But such as skilfull are, and cunning Dames indeede,
By dayly practise doe it well, yea sure they doe exceede.
They lay their colours so, as he that is full wise,
May easly be deceiu'd therein, if he doe trust his eyes.
I not a little muse, what madnesse makes them paint
Their faces, waying how they keepe the stooue by meere constraint.
For seldome when, vnlesse on Church or marriage day
A man shall see the Dames abroade, that are of best aray.
The Russie meanes to reape the profit of her pride,
And so he mewes her to be sure, she lye by no mans side.
Thus much, friend Dancie, I did meane to write to thee,
To let thee weete in Russia land, what men and women bee.
Hereafter I perhaps of other things will write
To thee and other of my friends, which I shall see with sight:
And other stuffe besides, which true report shall tell,
Meane while I end my louing lines, and bid thee now farewell.

[Footnote 1: Moudjick, a servant.]
[Footnote 2: St. Nicholas.]

To Spencer.

If I should now forget, or not remember thee,
Thou Spencer might'st a foule rebuke, and shame impute to mee,
For I to open shew did loue thee passing well,
And thou wert he at parture, whom I loathde to bid farewell.
And as I went thy friend, so I continue still,
No better proofe thou canst then this desire of true good will
I doe remember well when needes I should away,
And that the Poste would licence vs, no longer time to stay:
Thou wrongst me by the fist, and holding fast my hand,
Didst craue of me to send thee newes, and how I liked the land.
It is a sandie soile, no very fruitful vaine,
More waste and wooddie grounds there are, then closes fit for graine.
Yet graine there growing is, which they vntimely take,
And cut or eare the corne be ripe, they mowe it on a stacke:
And laying sheafe by sheafe, their haruest so they dry,
They make the greater haste, for feare the frost the corne destroy.
For in the winter time, so glarie is the ground,
As neither grasse, nor other graine, in pastures may be found.
In coms the cattell then, the sheepe, the colt, the cowe,

Fast by his bed the Mowsike then[1] a lodging doth allowe,
Whom he with fodder feeds, and holds as deere as life:
And thus they weare the winter with the Mowsike and his wife.
Seuen months the Winter dures, the glare it is so great,
As it is May before he turne his ground to sow his wheate.
The bodies eke that die vnburied lie they then,
Laid vp in coffins made of firre, as well the poorest men,
As those of greater state: the cause is lightly found,
For that in Winter time, they cannot come to breake the ground.
And wood so plenteous is, quite throughout all the land,
As rich, and poore, at time of death assurd of coffins stand.
Perhaps, thou musest much, how this may stand with reason,
That bodies dead can vncorrupt abide so long a season.
Take this for certaine trothe, as soone as heate is gone,
The force of cold the body binds as hard as any stone,
Without offence at all to any liuing thing:
And so they lye in perfect state, till next returne of Spring.
Their beasts be like to ours, as farre as I can see
For shape, and shewe, but somewhat lesse of bulke, and bone they be.
Of watrish taste, the flesh not firme, like English beefe,
And yet it seru's them very well, and is a good releefe:
Their sheep are very small, sharpe singled, handfull long;
Great store of fowle on sea and land, the moorish reedes among.
The greatnes of the store doeth make the prices lesse,
Besides in all the land they know not how good meate to dresse.
They vse neither broach nor spit, but when the stoue they heate,
They put their victuals in a pan, and so they bake their meate.
No pewter to be had, no dishes but of wood,
No use of trenchers, cups cut out of birche are very good.
They vse but wooden spoones, which hanging in a case
Eache Mowsike at his girdle ties, and thinkes it no disgrace.
With whitles two or three, the better man the moe,
The chiefest Russies in the land, with spoone and kniues doe goe.
Their houses are not huge of building, but they say,
They plant them in the loftiest ground, to shift the snow away,
Which in the Winter time, eache where full thicke doth lie:
Which makes them haue the more desire, to set their houses hie.
No stone work is in vse, their roofes of rafters bee,
One linked in another fast, their wals are all of tree.
Of masts both long, and large; with mosse put in betweene,
To keepe the force of weather out, I neuer earst haue seene
A grosse deuise so good, and on the roofe they lay
The burthen barke, to rid the raine, and sudden showres away.
In euery roome a stoue, to serue the Winter turne,
Of wood they haue sufficient store, as much as they can burne.
They haue no English glasse, of slices of a rocke.
Hight Sluda they their windows make, that English glasse doth mocke.
They cut it very thinne, and sow it with a thred
In pretie order like to panes, to serue their present need.
No other glasse, good faith doth giue a better light:
And sure the rocke is nothing rich, the cost is very slight.
The chiefest place is that, where hangs the god by it,
The owner of the house himselfe doth neuer sit,
Unlesse his better come, to whom he yealds the seat:
The stranger bending to the god, the ground with brow most beat
And in that very place which they most sacred deeme,
The stranger lies: a token that his guest he doth esteeme.
Where he is wont to haue a beares skinne for his bed,
And must, in stead of pillow, clap his saddle to his head.
In Russia other shift there is not to be had,
For where the bedding is not good, the boalsters are but bad
I mused very much, what made them so to lie,
Sith in their countrey Downe is rife, and feathers out of crie:
Vnlesse it be because the countrey is so hard,
They feare by nicenesse of a bed their bodies would be mard,
I wisht thee oft with vs, saue that I stood in feare
Thou wouldst haue loathed to haue layd thy limmes vpon a beare,
As I and Stafford did, that was my mate in bed:
And yet (we thanke the God of heauen) we both right well haue sped.
Loe thus I make an ende: none other newes to thee,
But that the countrey is too colde, the people beastly bee.
I write not all I know, I touch but here and there,
For if I should, my penne would pinch, and eke offend I feare.
Who so shall read this verse, coniecture of the rest,
And thinke by reason of our trade, that I do thinke the best.
But if no traffique were, then could I boldly pen
The hardnesse of the soile, and eke the maners of the men.
They say the Lions paw giues iudgement of the beast:
And so may you deeme of the great, by reading of the least.

[Footenote: _Suggested emendation_: Them.]

To Parker. [Footnote: Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury. See an
excellent account of him and his writings in Allibone's Dictionary.]

My Parker, paper, pen, and inke were made to write,
And idle heads, that little do, haue leisure to indite:
Wherefore, respecting these, and thine assured loue,
If I would write no newes to thee, them might'st my pen reproue.
And sithence fortune thus hath shou'd my shippe on shore:
And made me seeke another Realme vnseene of me before:
The maners of the men I purpose to declare.
And other priuate points besides, which strange and geazon are.
The Russie men are round of bodies, fully fac'd,
The greatest part with bellies bigge that ouerhang the waste,
Flat headed for the most, with faces nothing faire,
But browne, by reason of the stone, and closenesse of the aire:
It is their common vse to shaue or els to sheare
Their heads, for none in all the land long lolling locks doth weare,
Vnlsse perhaps he haue his souereigne prince displeas'd,
For then he neuer cuts his haire, vntil he be appeas'd,
A certaine signe to know who in displeasure be,
For euery man that viewes his head, will say, Loe this is he.
And during all the time he lets his locks to grow,
Dares no man for his life to him a face of friendship show.
Their garments be not gay, nor handsome to the eye,
A cap aloft their heads they haue, that standeth very hie,
Which Colpack they do terme. They wears no ruffes at all;
The best haue collers set with pearle, which they Rubasca call.
Their shirts in Russie long, they worke them downe before,
And on the sleeues with coloured Silks, two inches good and more.
Aloft their shirts they weare a garment iacket wise
Hight Onoriadka, and about his burlie waste, he tyes
His portkies, which in stead of better breeches be:
Of linnen cloth that garment is, no codpiece is to see.
A paire of yarnen stocks to keepe the colde away,
Within his boots the Russie weares, the heeles they vnderlay
With clouting clamps of steele, sharpe pointed at the toes,
And ouer all a Shuba furd, and thus the Russe goes.
Well butned is the Shube, according to his state,
Some Silke, of Siluer other some: but those of poorest rate
Do weare no Shubs at all, but grosser gownes to sight,
That reacheth downe beneath the calfe, and that Armacha hight:
These are the Russies robes. The richest vse to ride
From place to place, his seruant runnes, and followes by his side.
The Cassacke beares his felt, to force away the raine:
Their bridles are not very braue, their saddles are but plaine.
No bits but snaffles all, of birch their saddles be,
Much fashioned like the Scottish seates, broad flakes to keepe the knee
From sweating of the horse, the pannels larger farre
And broader be then ours, they vse short stirrups for the warre:
For when the Russie is pursued by cruel foe,
He rides away, and suddenly betakes him to his boe,
And bends me but about in saddle as be sits,
And therewithall amids his race his following foe he hits.
Their bowes are very short, like Turkie bowes outright,
Of sinowes made with birchen barke, in cunning maner dight.
Small arrowes, cruell heads, that fell and forked bee,
Which being shot from out those bowes, a cruel way will flee.
They seldome vse to shoo their horse, vnlesse they ride
In post vpon the frozen flouds, then cause they shall not slide,
He sets a slender calke, and so he rides his way.
The horses of the countrey go good fourescore versts a day,
And all without the spurre, once pricke them and they skippe,
But goe not forward on their way, the Russie hath his whippe
To rappe him on the ribbes, for though all booted bee,
Yet shall you not a paire of spurres in all the countrey see.
The common game is chesse, almost the simplest will
Both giue a checke and eke a mate, by practise comes their skill.
Againe they dice as fast, the poorest rogues of all
Will sit them downe in open field, and there to gaming fall
Their dice are very small, in fashion like to those
Which we doe vse, he takes them vp, and ouer thumbe he throwes
Not shaking them a whit, they cast suspiciously,
And yet I deeme them voyd of art that dicing most apply.
At play when Siluer lacks, goes saddle, horse and all,
And eche thing els worth Siluer walkes, although the price be small.
Because thou louest to play friend Parker other while,
I wish thee there the weary day with dicing to beguile.
But thou weart better farre at home, I wist it well,
And wouldest be loath among such lowts so long a time to dwell.
Then iudge of vs thy friends, what kinde of life, we had,
That neere the frozen pole to waste our weary dayes were glad.
In such a sauage soile, weere lawes do beare no sway,
But all is at the king his will, to saue or else to slay.
And that sans cause, God wot, if so his minde be such.
But what meane I with Kings to deale? we ought no Saints to touch.
Conceiue the rest your selfe, and deeme what liues they lead,
Where lust is Lawe, and Subiects liue continually in dread.
And where the best estates haue none assurance good
Of lands, of liues, nor nothing falles vnto the next of blood.
But all of custome doeth vnto the prince redowne,
And all the whole reuenue comes vnto the King his crowne.
Good faith I see thee muse at what I tell thee now,
But true it is, no choice, but all at princes pleasure bow.
So Tarquine ruled Rome as thou remembrest well,
And what his fortune was at last, I know thy selfe canst tell.
Where will in Common weale doth beare the onely sway,
And lust is Lawe, the prince and Realme must needs in time decay.
The strangenesse of the place is such for sundry things I see,
As if I woulde I cannot write ech priuate point to thee.
The colde is rare, the people rude, the prince so full of pride,
The Realme so stored with Monks and nunnes, and priests on euery side:
The maners are so Turkie like, the men so full of guile,
The women wanton, Temples stuft with idols that defile
The Seats that sacred ought to be, the customes are so quaint,
As if I would describe the whole, I feare my pen would faint.
In summe, I say I neuer saw a prince that so did raigne,
Nor people so beset with Saints, yet all but vile and vaine.
Wilde Irish are as ciuill as the Russies in their kinde,
Hard choice which is the best of both, ech bloody, rude and blinde.
If thou bee wise, as wise thou art, and wilt be ruld by me,
Liue still at home, and couet not those barbarous coasts to see.
No good befalles a man that seeks, and findes no better place,
No ciuill customes to be learned, where God bestowes no grace.
And truely ill they do deserue to be belou'd of God,
That neither loue nor stand in awe of his assured rod:
Which though be long, yet plagues at last the vile and beastly sort.
Of sinnill wights, that all in vice do place their chiefest sport.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.