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of the country, having their houses close by the water's side, showed themselves unto us, and sent a present to our general.

When they came unto us, they greatly wondered at the things that we brought, but our general (according to his natural and accustomed humanity) courteously entreated them, and liberally bestowed on them necessary things to cover their 10 nakedness, whereupon they supposed us to be gods, and would not be persuaded to the contrary. The presents which they sent to our general were feathers and cauls of network.

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Their houses are digged round about with earth, and have from the uttermost brims of the circle clifts of wood set upon them, joining close together at the top like a spire steeple, which by reason of 20 that closeness are very warm.

Their beds is the ground with rushes strewed on it, and lying about the house, have the fire in the midst. The men go naked, the women take bulrushes and 25 comb them after the manner of hemp, and thereof make their loose garments, which being knit about their middles, hang down about their hips, having also about their shoulders a skin of deer with the 30 hair upon it. These women are very obedient and serviceable to their husbands.

After they were departed from us, they came and visited us the second time and brought with them feathers and bags of 35 tobacco for presents. And when they came to the top of the hill (at the bottom whereof we had pitched our tents) they stayed themselves, where one appointed for speaker wearied himself with making 40 a long oration, which done, they left their bows upon the hill, and came down with their presents.

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and amongst them the king himself, a man of goodly stature and comely personage, with many other tall and warlike men; before whose coming were sent two ambassadors to our general to signify that their king was coming, in doing of which message their speech was continued about half an hour. This ended, they by signs requested our general to send some thing by their hand to their king as a token that his coming might be in peace, wherein our general having satisfied them, they returned with glad tidings to their king, who marched to us with a princely majesty, the people crying continually after their manner; and as they drew near unto us, so did they strive to behave themselves in their actions with comeliness.

In the fore-front was a man of goodly personage, who bore the scepter or mace before the king, whereupon hung two crowns, a less and a bigger, with three chains of a marvelous length. The crowns were made of knit work wrought artificially with feathers of divers colors; the chains were made of a bony substance, and few be the persons among them that are admitted to wear them; and of that number also the persons are stinted, as some ten, some twelve, and so forth. Next unto him which bare the scepter was the king himself with his guard about his person, clad with coney skins, and other skins. After them followed the naked common sort of people, everyone having his face painted, some with white, some with black, and other colors, and having in their hands one thing or another for a present, not so much as their children, but they also brought their presents.

In the meantime our general gathered his men together and marched within his fenced place, making against their approaching a very warlike show. They being trooped together in their order and a general salutation being made, there was presently a general silence. Then he that bare the scepter before the king, being informed by another, whom they assigned to that office, with a manly and lofty voice proclaimed that which the other spoke to him in secret, continuing half an hour; which ended, and a general amen, as it were, given, the king with the whole 55 number of men and women (the children excepted) came down without any weapon; who descending to the foot of the hill, set themselves in order.

In the meantime the women, remaining on the hill, tormented themselves lamen- 45 tably, tearing their flesh from their cheeks, whereby we perceived that they were about a sacrifice. In the meantime our general with his company went to prayer and to reading of the Scriptures, at which 50 exercise they were attentive, and seemed greatly to be affected with it. But when they were come unto us, they restored again unto us those things which before we bestowed upon them.

The news of our being there being spread through the country, the people that inhabited round about came down,

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ointments, agreeing to the state of their griefs, beseeching God to cure their diseases. Every third day they brought their sacrifices to us, until they understood our meaning that we had no pleasure in them. Yet they could not be long absent from us, but daily frequented our company to the hour of our departure, which departure seemed so grievous unto them that their joy was turned into sorrow. They entreated us that being absent we would remember them, and by stealth provided a sacrifice, which we misliked.

Our necessary business being ended, our general with his company traveled up into the country to their villages, where we found herds of deer by 1000 in a company, being most large and fat of

In coming towards our bulwarks and tents, the scepter-bearer began a song, observing his measures in a dance, and that with a stately countenance; whom the king with his guard, and every degree of persons, following, did in like manner sing and dance, saving only the women, which danced and kept silence. The general permitted them to enter within our bulwark, where they continued their song to and dance a reasonable time. When they had satisfied themselves, they made signs to our general to sit down, to whom the king and divers others made several orations, or rather supplications, that he 15 would take their province and kingdom into his hand, and become their king, making signs that they would resign unto him their right and title of the whole land, and become his subjects. In which, to per- 20 body. suade us the better, the king and the rest with one consent and with great reverence, joyfully singing a song, did set the crown upon his head, enriched his neck with all their chains, and offered 25 unto him many other things, honoring him by the name of Hioh, adding thereunto, as it seemed a sign of triumph, which thing our general thought not meet to reject, because he knew not what honor and 30 profit it might be to our country. Wherefore in the name and to the use of her Majesty he took the scepter, crown, and dignity of the said country into his hands, wishing that the riches and treasure 35 thereof might so conveniently be transported to the enriching of her kingdom. at home, as it aboundeth in the same.

The common sort of people leaving the king and his guard with our general, 40 scattered themselves together with their sacrifices among our people, taking a diligent view of every person; and such as pleased their fancy, (which were the youngest) they, inclosing them about, 45 offered their sacrifices unto them with lamentable weeping, scratching, and tearing the flesh from their faces with their nails, whereof issued abundance of blood. But we used signs to them of disliking 50 this, and stayed their hands from force, and directed them upwards to the living God, whom only they ought to worship. They showed unto us their wounds, and craved help of them at our hands, where- 55 upon we gave them lotions, plasters, and

We found the whole country to be a warren of a strange kind of conies, their bodies in bigness as be the Barbary conies, their heads as the heads of ours, the feet of a want, and the tail of a rat, being of great length. Under her chin is on either side a bag, into the which she gathereth her meat, when she hath filled her belly abroad. The people eat their bodies and make great account of their skins, for their king's coat was made of them.

Our general called this country Nova Albion, and that for two causes: the one in respect of the white banks and cliffs which lie towards the sea; and the other because it might have some affinity with our country in name, which sometime was so called.

There is no part of earth here to be taken up, wherein there is not some probable show of gold or silver.

At our departure hence our general set up a monument of our being there, as also of her Majesty's right and title. to the same, namely a plate, nailed upon a fair great post, whereupon was engraven her Majesty's name, the day and year of our arrival there, with the free giving up of the province and people into her Majesty's hands, together with her highness' picture and arms in a piece of six pence of current English money under the plate, whereunder was also written the name of our general.

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EDMUND SPENSER (1552-1599)

Although Spenser's father was a gentleman by birth,' he seems to have lacked adequate resources for bringing up his son. In spite of insufficient means, however, Spenser received a thoroughly good education, first as a 'poor scholar' in the Merchant Tailors' School in London, under Richard Mulcaster, and later, during seven years, as a sizar, or needy student, at Pembroke Hall, Cambridge. At the university he gained not only a high standing in classical studies, but also the permanent friendship of Gabriel Harvey, Fellow of Pembroke, the Hobbinol of Spenser's pastoral verse. After leaving the university, in 1576, Spenser seems to have retired for a year or so into the country, where, according to a persistent tradition, he met the Rosalind of the Shepherd's Calendar. He began his active career as a private secretary, first, perhaps, to Sir Henry Sidney, in Ireland, certainly to Bishop Young of Rochester, in 1578, and finally to the Earl of Leicester, in 1579. In this last position he met Leicester's nephew, Sir Philip Sidney, and Sir Edward Dyer, with both of whom he formed an intimate literary and personal friendship. His friendship with Sidney, Spenser recorded in Astrophel: A Pastoral Elegy (1595). Under Leicester's roof was completed the Shepherd's Calendar, published in 1579. The enthusiastic reception of the poem among men of letters promptly established Spenser as the chief of English poets then living. In 1580, Spenser went to Ireland as secretary to the lord deputy, Arthur Grey, and, except for two visits to England, he remained in Ireland until a month before his death. In 1581, he became clerk of the faculties in the Court of Chancery, and in the succeeding years prospered sufficiently to acquire land and to buy the office of clerk of the council of Munster, in 1588, when, probably, he began to reside upon his new estate at Kilcolman Castle. In 1589, Sir Walter Raleigh visited Spenser, who showed him the first three books of the Faery Queen, and who departed with his eminent visitor during that same year for London, there to present his work to the queen and to publish it. If the poet expected reward in the form of a government office in London, he was disappointed, for in 1591, after obtaining a pension of fifty pounds, he returned home. Raleigh's visit and the sojourn in London are reflected in Colin Clout's Come Home Again (1595). After his return to Ireland, Spenser seems to have worked assiduously upon the Faery Queen, for the second three books were completed before June 11, 1594, when he married Elizabeth Boyle, the inspiration of the Amoretti and of Epithalamion. In 1596, Spenser again visited London, to publish Books IV-VI of the Faery Queen, and, no doubt, to seek office, once more unsuccessfully. To this London visit is assigned the writing of the Four Hymns, the Prothalamion, and the prose tract, View of the Present State of Ireland. In this last work the poet vigorously records his contempt for the Irish, a contempt that must have grown into bitter hatred when, in 1598, Irish rebels burned Kilcolman Castle and drove Spenser and his family to Cork. After having prepared for the queen an account of the situation in Ireland, Spenser set out with dispatches for London, where he died, January 16, 1599.

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Where will he live tyll the lusty prime? Selfe have I worne out thrise threttie

yeares,

Some in much joy, many in many teares;
Yet never complained of cold nor heate,
Of sommers flame, nor of winters threat; 20
Ne ever was to fortune foeman,
But gently tooke that ungently came:
And ever my flocke was my chiefe care;
Winter or sommer they mought well fare.
Cud. No marveile, Thenot, if thou can
beare

Cherefully the winters wrathfull cheare:
For age and winter accord full nie,

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This chill, that cold, this crooked, that wrye;
And as the lowring wether lookes downe,
So semest thou like Good Fryday to frowne.
But my flowring youth is foe to frost,
My shippe unwont in stormes to be tost.
The. The soveraigne of seas he blames
in vaine,

That, once seabeate, will to sea againe.
So loytring live you little heardgroomes, 35
Keeping your beastes in the budded broomes:
And when the shining sunne laugheth once,
You deemen the spring is come attonce.
Tho gynne you, fond flyes, the cold to

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His dewelap as lythe as lasse of Kent.
See howe he venteth into the wynd.
Weenest of love is not his mynd?
Seemeth thy flocke thy counsell can,
So lustlesse bene they, so weake, so wan,
Clothed with cold, and hoary wyth frost.
Thy flocks father his corage hath lost:
Thy ewes, that wont to have blowen bags,
Like waile full widdowes hangen their crags:
The rather lambes bene starved with cold,
All for their maister is lustlesse and old.

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That on a time he cast him to scold And snebbe the good Oake, for he was old. 'Why standst there,' quoth he, 'thou brutish blocke?

Nor for fruict nor for shadowe serves thy stocke.

Seest how fresh my flowers bene spredde, Dyed in lilly white and cremsin redde, 130 With leaves engrained in lusty greene Colours meete to clothe a mayden queene? Thy wast bignes but combers the grownd, And dirks the beauty of my blossomes round.

The mouldie mosse, which thee accloieth, My sinamon smell too much annoieth. 136 Wherefore soone, I rede thee, hence remove, Least thou the price of my displeasure prove.'

So spake this bold Brere with great disdaine :

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Little him answered the Oake againe,
But yielded, with shame and greefe adawed,
That of a weede he was overawed.

Yt chaunced after upon a day,
The husbandman selfe to come that way,
Of custome for to survewe his grownd, 145
And his trees of state in compasse rownd.
Him when the spitefull Brere had espyed,
Causlesse complained, and lowdly cryed
Unto his lord, stirring up sterne strife:

'O my liege Lord, the god of my life, 150 Pleaseth you ponder your suppliants plaint, Caused of wrong, and cruell constraint, Which I your poore vassall dayly endure: And but your goodnes the same recure, Am like for desperate doole to dye, Through felonous force of mine enemie.' Greatly aghast with this piteous plea,

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And oft his hoarie locks downe doth cast,
Where with my fresh flowretts bene defast.
For this, and many more such outrage,
Craving your goodlihead to aswage
The ranckorous rigour of his might,
Nought aske I, but onely to hold my right;
Submitting me to your good sufferance,
And praying to be garded from greevance.'
To this the Oake cast him to replie
Well as he couth: but his enemie
Had kindled such coles of displeasure,
That the good man noulde stay his leasure,
But home him hasted with furious heate,
Encreasing his wrath with many a threate.
His harmefull hatchet he hent in hand, 195
(Alas, that it so ready should stand!)
And to the field alone he speedeth,
(Ay little helpe to harme there needeth.)
Anger nould let him speake to the tree,
Enaunter his rage mought cooled bee;
But to the roote bent his sturdy stroke,
And made many wounds in the wast Oake.
The axes edge did oft turne againe,
As halfe unwilling to cutte the graine:
Semed, the sencelesse yron dyd feare,
Or to wrong holy eld did forbeare.
For it had bene an auncient tree,
Sacred with many a mysteree,

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And often crost with the priestes crewe, And often halowed with holy water dewe.

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