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“Of the beggers answere to M. Skelton the poete. xiii.

A poure begger, that was foule, blacke, and lothlye to beholde, cam vpon a tyme vnto mayster Skelton the poete, and asked him his almes. To whom mayster Skelton sayde, I praye the gette the awaye fro me, for thou lokeste as though thou camest out of helle. The poure man, perceyuing he wolde gyue him no thynge, answerd, For soth, syr, ye say trouth; I came oute of helle. Why dyddest thou nat tary styl there? quod mayster Skelton. Mary, syr, quod the begger, there is no roume for suche poure beggers as I am; all is kepte for suche gentyl men as ye be.”

Prefixed to Pithy pleasaunt and profitable workes of maister Skelton, Poete Laureate. Nowe collected and newly published. Anno 1568. 12mo.

“If slouth and tract of time

(That wears eche thing away)

Should rust and canker worthy artes,

Good works would soen decay.

If suche as present are

Forgoeth the people past,

Our selu[e]s should soen in silence slepe,

And loes renom at last.

No soyll nor land so rude

But som odd men can shoe:

Than should the learned pas unknowne,

Whoes pen & skill did floe?

God sheeld our slouth[146] wear sutch,

Or world so simple nowe,

That knowledge scaept without reward,

Who sercheth vertue throwe,

And paints forth vyce aright,

And blames abues of men,

And shoes what lief desarues rebuke,

And who the prayes of pen.

You see howe forrayn realms

Aduance their poets all;

And ours are drowned in the dust,

Or flong against the wall.

In Fraunce did Marrot raigne;

And neighbour thear vnto

Was Petrark, marching full with Dantte,

Who erst did wonders do;

Among the noble Grekes

Was Homere full of skill;

And where that Ouid norisht was

The soyll did florish still

With letters hie of style;

But Virgill wan the fraes,[147]

And past them all for deep engyen,

And made them all to gaes

Upon the bookes he made:

Thus eche of them, you see,

Wan prayse and fame, and honor had,

Eche one in their degree.

I pray you, then, my friendes,

Disdaine not for to vewe

The workes and sugred verses fine

Of our raer poetes newe;

Whoes barborus language rued

Perhaps ye may mislike;

But blame them not that ruedly playes

If they the ball do strike,

Nor skorne not mother tunge,

O babes of Englishe breed!

I haue of other language seen,

And you at full may reed

Fine verses trimly wrought,

And coutcht in comly sort;

But neuer I nor you, I troe,

In sentence plaine and short

Did yet beholde with eye,

In any forraine tonge,

A higher verse, a staetly[er] style,

That may be read or song,

Than is this daye indeede

Our Englishe verse and ryme,

The grace wherof doth touch yᵉ gods,

And reatch the cloudes somtime.

Thorow earth and waters deepe

The pen by skill doth passe,

And featly nyps the worldes abuse,

And shoes vs in a glasse

The vertu and the vice

Of eury wyght alyue:

The hony combe that bee doth make

Is not so sweete in hyue

As are the golden leues

That drops from poets head,

Which doth surmount our common talke

As farre as dros doth lead:

The flowre is sifted cleane,

The bran is cast aside,

And so good corne is knowen from chaffe,

And each fine graine is spide.

Peers Plowman was full plaine,

And Chausers spreet was great;

Earle Surry had a goodly vayne;

Lord Vaus the marke did beat,

And Phaer did hit the pricke

In thinges he did translate,

And Edwards had a special gift;

And diuers men of late

Hath helpt our Englishe toung,

That first was baes and brute:—

Ohe, shall I leaue out Skeltons name,

The blossome of my frute,

The tree wheron indeed

My branchis all might groe?

Nay, Skelton wore the lawrell wreath,

And past in schoels, ye knoe;

A poet for his arte,

Whoes iudgment suer was hie,

And had great practies of the pen,

His works they will not lie;

His terms to taunts did lean,

His talke was as he wraet,

Full quick of witte, right sharp of words,

And skilfull of the staet;

Of reason riep and good,

And to the haetfull mynd,

That did disdain his doings still,

A skornar of his kynd;

Most pleasant euery way,

As poets ought to be,

And seldom out of princis grace,

And great with eche degre.

Thus haue you heard at full

What Skelton was indeed;

A further knowledge shall you haue,

If you his bookes do reed.

I haue of meer good will

Theas verses written heer,

To honour vertue as I ought,

And make his fame apeer,

That whan the garland gay

Of lawrel leaues but laet:

Small is my pain, great is his prayes,

That thus sutch honour gaet.

Finis quod Churchyarde.”

[146] slouth] Old ed. “sloulth.”

[147] fraes] i.e. phrase.—In the Muses Library, 1737, p. 138, this word is altered to “bayes.”

From Johannis Parkhvrsti Ludicra siue Epigrammata Juuenilia. 1573, 4to.

“De Skeltono vate & sacerdote.

Skeltonus grauidam reddebat forte puellam,

Insigni forma quæ peperit puerum.

Illico multorum fama hæc pervenit ad aures,

Esse patrem nato sacrificum puero.

Skeltonum facti non pœnitet aut pudet; ædes

Ad sacras festo sed venit ipse die:

Pulpita conscendit facturus verba popello;

Inque hæc prorupit dicta vir ille bonus;

Quid vos, O scurræ, capit admiratio tanta?

Non sunt eunuchi, credite, sacrifici:

O stolidi, vitulum num me genuisse putatis?

Non genui vitulum, sed lepidum puerum;

Sique meis verbis non creditis, en puer, inquit;

Atque e suggesto protulit, ac abiit.”

p. 103.

From A Treatise Against Jvdicial Astrologie. Dedicated to the Right Honorable Sir Thomas Egerton Knight, Lord Keeper of the Great Seale, and one of her Maiesties most honorable priuie Councell. Written by John Chamber, one of the Prebendaries of her Maiesties free Chappell of Windsor, and Fellow of Eaton College. 1601. 4to.

“Not much vnlike to merrie Skelton, who thrust his wife out at the doore, and receiued her in againe at the window. The storie is well known how the bishop had charged him to thrust his wife out of the doore: but that which was but a meriment in Skelton,” &c. p. 99.

“So that the leape yeare, for any thing I see, might well vse the defence of merie Skelton, who being a priest, and hauing a child by his wife, euerie one cryed out, Oh, Skelton hath a child, fie on him, &c. Their mouthes at that time he could not stop: but on a holy day, in a mery mood, he brought the child to church with him, and in the pulpit stript it naked, and held it out, saying, See this child: is it not a pretie child, as other children be, euen as any of yours? hath it not legs, armes, head, feet, limbes, proportioned euery way as it shuld be? If Skelton had begot a monster, as a calfe, or such like, what a life should poore Skelton haue had then? So we say for the leape yeare, if it had changed the nature of things, as it is charged, how should it haue done then to defende itselfe?” p. 113.

From The Life of Long Meg of Westminster: containing the mad merry prankes she played in her life time, not onely in performing sundry quarrels with diuers ruffians about London: But also how valiantly she behaued her selfe in the warres of Bolloingne. 1635. 4to. (Of this tract there is said to have been a much earlier edition. I quote from the reprint in Miscellanea Antiqua Anglicana, 1816.)

“Chap. II.

Containing how he [the carrier] placed her in Westminster, and what shee did at her placing.

After the carrier had set vp his horse, and dispatcht his lading, hee remembred his oath, and therefore bethought him how he might place these three maides: with that hee called to minde that the mistresse at the Eagle in Westminster had spoken diuers times to him for a seruant; he with his carriage passed ouer the fields to her house, where he found her sitting and drinking with a Spanish knight called sir James of Castile, doctor Skelton, and Will Sommers; told her how hee had brought vp to London three Lancashire lasses, and seeing she was oft desirous to haue a maid, now she should take her choyce which of them she would haue. Marry, quoth shee (being a very merry and a pleasant woman), carrier, thou commest in good time; for not onely I want a maid, but heere bee three gentlemen that shall giue me their opinions, which of them I shall haue. With that the maids were bidden come in, and she intreated them to giue their verdict. Streight as soone as they saw Long Meg, they began to smile; and doctor Skelton in his mad merry veine, blessing himselfe, began thus:

Domine, Domine, vnde hoc?

What is she in the gray cassock?

Me thinkes she is of a large length,

Of a tall pitch, and a good strength,

With strong armes and stiffe bones;

This is a wench for the nones:

Her lookes are bonny and blithe,

She seemes neither lither nor lithe,

But young of age,

And of a merry visage,

Neither beastly nor bowsie,

Sleepy nor drowsie,

But faire fac’d and of a good size;

Therefore, hostesse, if you be wise,

Once be ruled by me,

Take this wench to thee;

For this is plaine,

Shee’l doe more worke than these twaine:

I tell thee, hostesse, I doe not mocke;

Take her in the gray cassocke.

What is your opinion? quoth the hostesse to sir James of Castile. Question with her, quoth he, what she can do, and then Ile giue you mine opinion: and yet first, hostesse, aske Will Sommers opinion. Will smiled, and swore that his hostesse should not haue her, but king Harry should buy her. Why so, Will? quoth doctor Skelton. Because, quoth Will Sommers, that she shall be kept for breed; for if the king would marry her to long Sanders of the court, they would bring forth none but souldiers. Well, the hostesse demanded what her name was. Margaret, forsooth, quoth she. And what worke can you doe? Faith, little, mistresse, quoth she, but handy labour, as to wash and wring, to make cleane a house, to brew, bake, or any such drudgery: for my needle, to that I haue beene little vsed to. Thou art, quoth the hostesse, a good lusty wench, and therefore I like thee the better: I haue here a great charge, for I keepe a victualling house, and diuers times there come in swaggering fellowes, that, when they haue eat and dranke, will not pay what they call for: yet if thou take the charge of my drinke, I must be answered out of your wages. Content, mistresse, quoth she; for while I serue you, if any stale cutter comes in, and thinkes to pay the shot with swearing, hey, gogs wounds, let me alone! Ile not onely (if his clothes be worth it) make him pay ere hee passe, but lend him as many bats as his crag will carry, and then throw him out of doores. At this they all smiled. Nay, mistresse, quoth the carrier, ’tis true, for my poore pilch here is able with a paire of blew shoulders to sweare as much; and with that he told them how she had vsed him at her comming to London. I cannot thinke, quoth sir James of Castile, that she is so strong. Try her, quoth Skelton, for I haue heard that Spaniards are of wonderfull strength. Sir James in a brauery would needs make experience, and therefore askt the maide if she durst change a box on the eare with him. I, sir, quoth she, that I dare, if my mistresse will giue me leaue. Yes, Meg, quoth she; doe thy best. And with that it was a question who should stand first: Marry, that I will, sir, quoth she; and so stood to abide sir James his blow; who, forcing himselfe with all his might, gaue her such a box that she could scarcely stand, yet shee stirred no more than a post. Then sir James he stood, and the hostesse willed her not spare her strength. No, quoth Skelton; and if she fell him downe, Ile giue her a paire of new hose and shoone. Mistresse, quoth Meg (and with that she strooke vp her sleeue), here is a foule fist, and it hath past much drudgery, but, trust me, I thinke it will giue a good blow: and with that she raught at him so strongly, that downe fell sir James at her feet. By my faith, quoth Will Sommers, she strikes a blow like an oxe, for she hath strooke down an asse. At this they all laught. Sir James was ashamed, and Meg was entertained into seruice.”

“Chap. IV.

Containing the merry skirmish that was betweene her and sir James of Castile, a Spanish knight, and what was the end of their combat.

There was a great suter to Meg’s mistresse, called sir James of Castile, to winne her loue: but her affection was set on doctor Skelton; so that sir James could get no grant of any fauour. Whereupon he swore, if hee knew who were her paramour, hee would runne him thorow with his rapier. The mistresse (who had a great delight to bee pleasant) made a match betweene her and Long Meg, that she should goe drest in gentlemans apparell, and with her sword and buckler goe and meet sir James in Saint Georges field[s]; if she beat him, she should for her labour haue a new petticote. Let me alone, quoth Meg; the deuill take me if I lose a petticote. And with that her mistris deliuered her a suit of white sattin, that was one of the guards that lay at her house. Meg put it on, and tooke her whinyard by her side, and away she went into Saint Georges fields to meet sir James. Presently after came sir James, and found his mistris very melancholy, as women haue faces that are fit for all fancies. What aile you, sweetheart? quoth he; tell me; hath any man wronged you? if he hath, be he the proudest champion in London, Ile haue him by the eares, and teach him to know, sir James of Castile can chastise whom he list. Now, quoth she, shall I know if you loue me: a squaring long knaue, in a white sattin doublet, hath this day monstrously misused me in words, and I haue no body to reuenge it; and in a brauery went out of doores, and bad the proudest champion I had come into Saint Georges fields and quit my wrong, if they durst: now, sir James, if euer you loued mee, learne the knaue to know how he hath wronged me, and I will grant whatsoeuer you will request at my hands. Marry, that I will, quoth he; and for that you may see how I will vse the knaue, goe with me, you and master doctor Skelton, and be eye-witnesses of my manhood. To this they agreed; and all three went into Saint Georges fields, where Long Meg was walking by the wind-mils. Yonder, quoth she, walkes the villain that abused me. Follow me, hostesse, quoth sir James; Ile goe to him. As soone as hee drew nigh, Meg began to settle herselfe, and so did sir James: but Meg past on as though she would haue gone by. Nay, sirrah, stay, quoth sir James; you and I part not so, we must haue a bout ere we passe; for I am this gentlewomans champion, and flatly for her sake will haue you by the eares. Meg replied not a word; but only out with her sword: and to it they went. At the first bout Meg hit him on the hand, and hurt him a little, but endangered him diuers times, and made him giue ground, following so hotly, that shee strucke sir James’ weapon out of his hand; then when she saw him disarm’d, shee stept within him, and, drawing her ponyard, swore all the world should not saue him. Oh, saue mee, sir! quoth hee; I am a knight, and ’tis but for a womans matter; spill not my blood. Wert thou twenty knights, quoth Meg, and were the king himselfe heere, hee should not saue thy life, vnlesse thou grant mee one thing. Whatsoeuer it bee, quoth sir James. Marry, quoth shee, that is, that this night thou wait on my trencher at supper at this womans house; and when supper is done, then confesse me to be thy better at weapon in any ground in England. I will do it, sir, quoth he, as I am a true knight. With this they departed, and sir James went home with his hostesse sorrowfull and ashamed, swearing that his adversary was the stoutest man in England. Well, supper was prouided, and sir Thomas Moore and diuers other gentlemen bidden thither by Skeltons means, to make vp the jest; which when sir James saw inuited, hee put a good face on the matter, and thought to make a slight matter of it, and therefore beforehand told sir Thomas Moore what had befallen him, how entring in a quarrell of his hostesse, hee fought with a desperate gentleman of the court, who had foiled him, and giuen him in charge to wait on his trencher that night. Sir Thomas Moore answered sir James, that it was no dishonour to be foyled by a gentleman [of England?], sith Cæsar himselfe was beaten backe by their valour. As thus they were discanting of the valour of Englishmen, in came Meg marching in her mans attire: euen as shee entered in at the doore, This, sir Thomas Moore, quoth sir James, is that English gentleman whose prowesse I so highly commend, and to whom in all valour I account myselfe so inferiour. And, sir, quoth shee, pulling off her hat, and her haire falling about her eares, hee that so hurt him to day is none other but Long Meg of Westminster; and so you are all welcome. At this all the company fell in a great laughing, and sir James was amazed that a woman should so wap him in a whinyard: well, hee as the rest was faine to laugh at the matter, and all that supper time to wait on her trencher, who had leaue of her mistris that shee might be master of the feast; where with a good laughter they made good cheere, sir James playing the proper page, and Meg sitting in her maiesty. Thus was sir James disgraced for his loue, and Meg after counted for a proper woman.”

Scogan and Skelton, 1600, a play by Richard Hathwaye and William Rankins, is mentioned in Henslowe’s MSS.: see Malone’s Shakespeare (by Boswell), iii. 324.

Notices of Skelton may also be found in:—

A Dialogue bothe pleasaunt and pietifull, wherein is a godlie regiment against the Feuer Pestilence, with a consolation and comforte againste death. Newlie corrected by William Bullein, the authour thereof. 1573, 8vo. Of this piece I have seen only the above ed.: but it appeared originally in 1564. It contains notices of several poets, introduced by way of interlude or diversion in the midst of a serious dialogue; and (at p. 17) Skelton is described as sitting “in the corner of a Piller, with a frostie bitten face, frownyng,” and “writyng many a sharpe Disticons” against Wolsey—

“How the Cardinall came of nought,

And his Prelacie solde and bought,” &c.

(15 verses chiefly made up from Skelton’s works).—The Rewarde of Wickednesse, discoursing the sundrye monstrous abuses of wicked and vngodly Wordelings, &c. Newly compiled by Richard Robinson, seruaunt in householde to the right honorable Earle of Shrewsbury, &c. 4to, n. d. (The Address to the Reader dated 1574), at sig. Q 2.—A Discourse of English Poetrie, &c., By William Webbe, Graduate, 1586, 4to, at sig. c iii.—The Arte of English Poesie, &c. (attributed to one Puttenham: but see D’Israeli’s Amen. of Lit. ii. 278, sqq.), 1589, 4to, at pp. 48, 50, 69.—Fovre Letters, and certaine Sonnets: Especially touching Robert Greene, &c. (by Gabriell Harvey), 1592, 4to, at p. 7.—Pierces Supererogation or a New Prayse of the Old Asse, &c. [by] Gabriell Haruey, 1593, 4to, at p. 75.—Palladis Tamia. Wits Treasvry Being the Second part of Wits Commonwealth. By Francis Meres, &c., 1598, 12mo, at p. 279.—Virgidemiarvm. The three last Bookes. Of byting Satyres (by Joseph Hall), 1598, 12mo, at p. 83.—The Downfall of Robert Earle of Huntington, Afterward called Robin Hood of merrie Sherwodde, &c. (by Anthony Munday), 1601, 4to. In this play, which is supposed to be a rehearsal previous to its performance before Henry the Eighth, Skelton acts the part of Friar Tuck.—In The Death of Robert, Earle of Hvntington, &c. (by Anthony Munday and Henry Chettle), 1601, 4to, which forms a Second Part to the drama just described, Skelton, though his name is not mentioned throughout it, is still supposed to act the Friar.—Miscellanea, written out by “Joħnes Mauritius” between 1604 and 1605—MS. Reg. 12. B. v.—contains (at fol. 14), and attributes to Skelton, a well-known indelicate jeu d’esprit.—Pimlyco, or Runne Red-Cap. Tis a mad world at Hogsdon, 1609, 4to. Besides a notice of Skelton, this poem contains two long quotations from his Elynour Rummyng.—Cornv-copiæ. Pasquils Night-Cap: Or Antidot for the Head-ache (by Samuel Rowlands), 1612, 4to, at sig. O 2 and sig. Q 3. The second notice of Skelton in this poem is as follows;

“And such a wondrous troupe the Hornpipe treads,

One cannot passe another for their heads,

That shortly we shall haue (as Skelton iests)

A greater sort of horned men than beasts:”

but I recollect nothing in his works to which the allusion can be applied.—An Halfe-pennyworth of Wit, in a Penny-worth of Paper. Or, The Hermites Tale. The third Impression. 1613, 4to. At p. 16 of this poem is a tale said to be “in Skeltons rime”—to which, however, it bears no resemblance.—The Shepheards Pipe (by Browne and Withers), 1614, 12mo, in Eglogue i., at sig. C 7.—Hypercritica; or A Rule of Judgment for writing, or reading our History’s, &c. By Edmund Bolton, Author of Nero Cæsar (published by Dr. Anthony Hall together with Nicolai Triveti Annalium Continuatio, &c.), 1722, 8vo, at p. 235. At what period Bolton wrote this treatise is uncertain: he probably completed it about 1618; see Haslewood’s Preface to Anc. Crit. Essays, &c. ii. xvi.—Poems: By Michael Drayton Esqvire, n. d. folio, at p. 283.—The Golden Fleece Diuided into three Parts, &c., by Orpheus Junior [Sir William Vaughan], 1626, 4to, at pp. 83, 88, 93, of the Third Part. In this piece “Scogin and Skelton” figure as “the chiefe Aduocates for the Dogrel Rimers by the procurement of Zoilus, Momus, and others of the Popish Sect.”—The Fortunate Isles, and their Union. Celebrated in a Masque designed for the Court, on the Twelfth-night, 1626, by Ben Jonson. In this masque are introduced “Skogan and Skelton, in like habits as they lived:” see Jonson’s Works, viii. ed. Gifford: see also his Tale of a Tub (licensed 1633), Works, vi. 231.—Wit and Fancy In a Maze. Or the Incomparable Champion of Love and Beautie. A Mock-Romance, &c. Written originally in the British Tongue, and made English by a person of much Honor. Si foret in terris rideret Democritus.[148] 1656, 12mo. In this romance (p. 101) we are told that “[In Elysium] the Brittish Bards (forsooth) were also ingaged in quarrel for Superiority; and who think you threw the Apple of Discord amongst them, but Ben Johnson, who had openly vaunted himself the first and best of English Poets … Skelton, Gower, and the Monk of Bury were at Daggers-drawing for Chawcer:” and a marginal note on “Skelton” informs us that he was “Henry 4. his Poet Lawreat, who wrote disguises for the young Princes”!

[148] Such is the title-page of the copy now before me: but some copies (see Restituta, iv. 196) are entitled Don Zara del Fogo, &c. 1656; and others Romancio-Mastix, or a Romance of Romances, &c. By Samuel Holland. Gent. 1660.