« ZurückWeiter »
Motto: se stante virebo. A MIGHTIE spyre, whose toppe dothe pierce the
skie, An iuie greene imbraceth rounde about; And while it standes, the same doth bloom on
highe, But when it shrinkes, the iuie standes in dowt.
The piller great our gratious princes is;
hir this : “I that of late with stormes was almoste spent, And brused sore with tirants' bluddie bloes, Whome fire and sworde with persecution rent, Am nowe sett free, and ouerlooke my foes ; And whiles thou raignst, oh most renowmed
queene! By thie supporte my blossome shall be greene.”
Motto: Veritas temporis filia. THREE furies fell, which turne the world to ruthe, Both Enuie, Strife, and Slaunder, heare appeare: In dungeon darke they longe inclosed Truthe; But Time at lengthe did loose his daughter deare,
And setts alofte that sacred ladie brighte, Which things longe hidd reueales and bringes
Thoughe Strife make fier, thoughe Enuie eate
hir harte, The innocent though Slaunder rente and spoile; Yet Time will comme, and take this ladie's parte, And breake her bandes, and bring her foes to
foile. Dispaire not then, thoughe Truthe be hidden
ofte, Bycause at lengthe shee shall bee sett alofte.
Motto: Non tibi, sed religioni. The pastors good, that doe gladd tidinges preache, The godlie sorte with reuerence doo imbrace : Though they be men, yet since Godd's worde they
teache, Wee honor them, and giue them higheste place:
Imbassadors of princes of the earthe
kneele, And staied therfore till he the staffe did feele. For as he passd with Isis throughe the streete, And bare on backe his holie rites about, The Ægyptians downe fell prostrate at his feete, Whereat the asse grew arrogante and stowte:
Then saide the guide, Oh foole! not ynto thee Theise people bowe, but vnto that they see.
Motto: Qua dij vocant, eundum, The trauaylinge man vncertain where to goe When diuers wayes before his face did lie, Mercurius then the perfect pathe did showe; Which when he tooke, hee neuer went awrie,
But to his wishe his iorney's ende did gaine,
In happie howre, by his direction plaine.
We stumble, fall, and dailie goe astraye:
Svche prouidence hath nature secret wroughte In creatures wilde, and eeke such knowledge
straunge, That man by them in somme thinges maie be
taughte: As some foretell when weather faire will chaunge ;
Of heate, of raine, of winde, and tempests' rage, Some showe by signes, and with their songs
Such skill deuine, and science to foretell,
Which showes they should with due regarde
For after-witts are like a shower of rayne,
Motto: Constanter. THE raging sea, that roares with fearefull sounde, And threatneth all the world to ouerflowe, The shore sometimes his billows doth rebounde, Though oft it winnes, and giues the earthe a
blowe : Sometimes where shippes did saile, it makes a
lande; Sometimes again they saile where townes did
stande. So if the Lorde did not his rage restraine, And set his boundes so that it cannot passe, The worlde should faile, and man could not remaine, But all that is shoulde soone be turn'd to was.
By raging Sea is ment our ghostlie foe;
By Earthe, man's soule he seekes to ouerthrowe. And as the surge doth worke both daie and nighte, And shakes the shore, and ragged rockes doth
rente ; So Sathan stirres with all his maine and mighte Continuall siege our soules to circumuente: Then watche and praie for feare we sleepe in
sinne; For cease our crime, and hee can nothing winne.
Motto: Veritas invicta. THOUGHE Sathan striue with all his maine and
And those that are so happie for to looke,
Motto: Omnis caro fænum. ALL fleshe is grasse, and witherth like the haie : To-daie man laughes, to-morrowe lies in claie. Then let him marke the frailtie of his kinde, For here his tearme is like a puffe of winde; Like bubbles smalle that on the waters rise; Or like the flowers whom Flora freshlie dies, Yet in one daie their glorie all is gone ; So worldlie pompe which here we gaze vppon: Which warneth all that here their pageantes plaie, Howe well to liue, but not how long to waie.
EMBLEME IX. Motto: Sic probantur. Matt. xxiv. THROUGHE tormentes straunge and persecutions
dire The Christians passe with pacience in their paine, And ende their course sometime with sworde and
fire, And constant stand, and like to lambes are slaine :
Bycause, when all their martirdome is past,