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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A40857	The famous tragedie of King Charles I basely butchered by those who are, omne nesas proni patare pudoris inanes crudeles, violenti, importunique tyranni mendaces, falsi, perversi, perfidiosi, fædifragi, falsis verbis infunda loquentes in which is included, the several combinations and machinations that brought that incomparable Prince to the block, the overtures hapning at the famous seige of Colchester, the tragicall fals of Sir Charls Lucas and Sir George Lisle, the just reward of the leveller Rainsborough, Hamilton and Bailies trecheries, in delivering the late Scottish army into the hands of Cromwell, and the designe the rebels have, to destroy the royal posterity.		1649 (1649)	Wing F384; ESTC R3816	25,227	52

Strafford see I come To wait on thee in blest Elizium They shoot So you have done it bravely you are good Marks-men I applaud you for 't even in Death so many passages are allow'd my Soule she knowes not which to issue out at this fabricke of my flesh now 'gins to totter like to some City for it 's Peoples finnes rock'd by the humerous winds what a fierce combate is there now maintain'd betwixt my wounded heart mighty Mors who grasps it 'twixt his hands squeezing it like a spunge so furious Boreas smites the solid Oakes that on Mount Pelion grow making them nod like unto feeble Reeds George thy hand my twins of light have lost their wonted property death with his icie-fingers seals them up Farewell great CHARLES I die thy loyall Servant George we shal meet some minutes hence I doubt not in a place where all joyes injoy one center the worlds great Architectresse never saw two of her Sonnes murther'd so barbarously after faire Quarter promised Therefore great Jove if thou lov'st loyall breath Take vengeance on the Authors of my death Sir George There crack'd the cords of life He dies Oh noble Lucas let me breathe out my Soule Kisses him upon thy azure lips so brave a compleat man no Monsters these excepted would have butcher'd my turne is next is it not Souldiers It is Sir George Nor would I purchase life with one Intreaty this object so inflames me I am growne weary of this fleshly weed and faine would put it off exchanging it for an immortall robe invelloped with Carbuncles and Saphires I but to have our live bereft by a sharp violent death to sleep in a thin shrowd involv'd in feign'd earth our Nerves and Arteries shrunke up like sing'd Lute-strings or the wither'd Wreath of some fam'd Heroe made away i' th' darke for to converse with Wormes and half-form'd creatures such as the slime of Seven headed Nile produceth by the aide of Phoebus beames Oh! there 's a contemplation that would stagger the most resolved Spirit but destiny must be obey'd Death is still death though diversly inflicted to have ones Throat sluc'd with a golden Knife or to be thrust through with a silver Sword mitigates not the wound more than the sufferance But oh ye vengefull Furies of darke Hell ye three-fell Sisters of steep Erebus awfull Aenyo all ye dreaded Hags ominous to mortalls forsake your black Cimerian Cells and with your steely Whips ascend the Earth Lash lash these Traytours to despaire and obloquie Let strife contention fraud guile and deep horror seize on great CHARLES his Foes severing their strength and frustrating their hopes till they sinke lower underneath their Treasons then plumets cast into the Baltick Sea Now doe your office They shoot I am prepar'd Oh! you have put Balls of wild-fire in my Bowels I am but all one Aetna Farewell base gloomie world in which deluded Man ravish'd with toyes hunts after bubbles till them he breake and vanisheth as he had never been I sinke beneath the burthen of my owne weight would with my fall the Machinie of the world might be unriveted and shooke to pieces the Ayre cōmixt with Earth the humid with the tumid Element and active fire contesting gainst them both reducing all to the Originall Chaos but I contend in vaine the Gods created Man but for their sport and its fit I should fulfill their ends wishing but not prevailing I spie the pure immaculate Soule of Lucas travailing through the Ayre to find a residence Stay gentle Spirit company is good when tedious journies are prescribed we 'l both fix in one Sphere when looking downe we will behold and smile To see these seeming Saints but reall Friends Fall by their devilishly devised ends He dies 1. Souldier The Traytors both are dead 2. Souldier Traytors those are Traytors whose most rigorous doome we have obey'd in murthering these brave Men. 3. Souldier How 's this let 's seize upon him 1. Souldier Doe and make hast to most assur'd damnation 2. Souldier I am no longer of your base societie Drawes Heaven pardon what is past my future deeds shall amply expiate my former crimes the bloud of noble Lucas and brave Lifle On Rainsborow's base head I will requite And send his Soule unto eternall night Exit 1. Souldier Let us remove the Bodies and make after him Exeunt bearing the Bodies The end of the third Act. ACT. IV. Enter Peters with Mrs Lambert Pet. THis he impos'd as a command it hath not been my practice to solicite in causes of this kind for other men Mrs Lambert Too soon you have made triall of your skill doth your grave habit suite with such course imployment reverend Sir Peters Faith Mistresse amongst Friends the outward garbe ought not to cause a nicety He is my honoured Patron tooke me halfe frozen from the foodfull Earth and warm'd me in his bosome and 't were a dull ingratitude in me not to reward his bounty with my service the radiant lustre of your Star-like eyes makes him to bow as your obsequious Vassall whom thousands count it honour to obey so great an influence hath your excellent beauty upon his manly faculties He 's now return'd deck'd with triumphant Wreaths from chasing the Blew Bonnets to their Mountaines having taught that stubborne People his Name can make the Genius of their Country tremble the politick Hamilton is his Prisoner all knees bow to him as Great Caesars Rivall nothing doth want for to compleat his Conquest but your assent to love him Mrs Lambert Why so I doe and all Men else that doe retaine his temper Peters Your love admits of a too vast extent I mean can you affect him so as to admit him to your Bed Mrs Lambert St Winifrid forbid it you know Sir that I have a Lord and Husband a Man made up of magnanimity whose love is mixt with an indulgent care should he but doubt of such an Injury your Master I my selfe and all by him suspected had better enter a Phalarian Bull or stand the thunders shock alas I dare not Peters These are but Womanish feares incident unto all your Sex come you must yeild to love him how should your Husband know of your day Banquets your nightly Revels and sweet Paphian sports he 's now in Lancashire Disbanding Troups of Horse or should some wayward Feind convey the knowledge of your stolne Imbraces unto his jealous eare my Masters greatnesse countermands his furie circled within his armes should heaven earth and hell conspire to wrong you 't were sinne to doubt a danger Consider Lady what a potent Friend what treasure honour and content you 'l gaine if mundane glories doe affect you by yeilding love for love to him whom other Dames of highest bloud and fortune would sue for such a favour Mrs Lambert Although my inward thoughts doe tax my levitie yet won with your most sugred eloquence I here yeild all of mine Lambert calls his unto your Masters bosome Crom. I

THE FAMOUS TRAGEDIE OF King Charles I. Basely BUTCHERED by those who are Omne nefas proni patare pudoris inanes Crudeles violenti Importunique tyranni Mendaces falsi perversi perfidiosi Faedifragi falsis verbis infunda loquentes IN WHICH IS INCLUDED The several Combinations and machinations that brought that incomparable PRINCE to the Block the overtures hapning at the famous Seige of Colchester the Tragicall fals of Sir Charls Lucas and Sir George Lisle the just reward of the Leveller Rainsborough Hamilton and Bailies Trecheries In delivering the late Scottish Army into the hands of Cromwell and the designe the Rebels have to destroy the ROYAL POSTERITY Printed in the Year 1649. To the Sacred MAJESTIE OF Great Britain France and Ireland KING CHARLS II. May it please Your Majesty I. STerne Fates permitted Your Great Syre to fall By those who at the first disguiz'd their ends With specious showes and have procur'd our thrall Like holy miscreants and Religious Fiends By a most pious trick have slav'd us all To Death an Hell till Jove his mission sends By Michal's hand to Thee Great Charls His Heire To Redeeme us and fill the Regall Chaire II. The depth of their Designe was hatch'd in Hell From the first houre Your Father warm'd his Seate So that even Infants now can prattle well Twenty years since in thought they were as great As now they are and O most strange to tell Had taken Oathes their Machine to compleat Or sinke in the attempt though to the Nation It seem'd they nothing sought but Reformation III. O Reformation dire that kils our King Doth both invert and subvert Discipline Vacates all Law each private man doth bring For fear to countenance their damn'd Designe Propriety Great Britains Gimiel KING Taken away while Treason in a line Like the plague takes and the damn'd Faction grows Great in that Tribe in which at first it rose IV. Our Goods and Lives we forfeit at their wils Our Noble Heros do by dozens fall The Loyall Gentry grief or Prisons kils The People each day rob'd and spoil'd of all While those Plebeians who procure our ills Feed high sleep soft have Kingdomes at their cals Strange revolution O accurst mutation That appoints Coblers for to rule a Nation V. But sure Great Prince thou oft hast laugh'd aloud To cogitate what their ambition Hath brought them to who now are grown so proud As fearlesse of thy strength and their condition As to proclaime Thee Traytor midst the crowd And to divulge their Trayterous prohibition If thou returne for to regaine thy right Thou must expect to perish by their spight VI. Summon all Nations to thy speedy aide Search from the Orient to the Occident The Gets and Parthians Switzers who are swaid By fierce Camillas second Tartars bent To bloud and horrour those whose God is said To hang twixt Heaven and Earth the Truculent Fastidious Moore take all except ' gainst none For many hands must lead Thee to Thy Throne VII So let this most unhospitable Land Smart for her Treasons till all kneele to Thee Offering themselves as Slaves to Thy Command Whom Jove hath sworn an Earthly Deitie That by Thy heavy and Victorious hand Those Monsters who doom'd Thy great Syre to die May receive treble vengeance and so perish Ensuing times may fear their thoughts to cherish VIII That having gain'd thine own appeas'd the Rabble Silenc'd Thy foes by Counsels or by Death Purg'd that accursed fowle Augaean stable At Westminster by Thy vindictive breath Like Thy Great Ancestors Thou maist be able To weare in Peace Great Britaines glorious Wreath While all Thy Subjects for to serve Thee Joy Singing allowd with me Vive le Roy. To the Author on his Tragedy WIth a sowre aspect and a Critick eye I have perus'd thy well writ Tragedie My ravisht soul grew sicker then the Age When as I hastned to the latter page Wrapt in a sweet amazement such an one As dreaming men sometimes do thinke upon Who when they wake are wroth and vexed sore They of that sweet delusion taste no more I wisht thy Play had been more largely writ Or I had ne're seene or perused it In which Apollo and the three times three Sweet Thespian Ladies chaunt though dolefully Such stately layes that famous Sophocles Would write his Plaies a new saw he but these Melpomene girt in a purple Robe Her hand in Heaven her foot upon Earths Globe Is taught by thee to chaunt forth Tragick notes Such as do damn the Rebels and their Votes He that can read thy Play and yet forbear For his late Murthered Lord to shed a tear Hath an heart fram'd of Adamant and may Passe for an Atheist the Reformed way But to conclude thy raptures I admire As those are sung even to Apollo's lyre E. D. THE PROLOGUE TO THE GENTRY THough Johnson Shakespeare Goffe and Devenant Brave Sucklin Beaumont Fletcher Shurley want The life of action and their learned lines Are loathed by the Monsters of the times Yet your refined Soules can penetrate Their depth of merit and excuse their Fate With this position those rude Elves that dare ' Gainst all Divine and humane Laws make War Who count it treble glory to transgresse Perfect in nothing but imperfectnesse Can finde no better engine to advance Their Thrones then vile and beastly Ignorance Their bloudy Myrmidons o' th' Table round Project to raze our Theaters to the ground No marvell they lap bloud as milke and glory To be recorded villaines upon Story For having kill'd their KING where will they stay That thorow GOD and MAJESTIE make way Throwing the Nobles and the Gentry downe Levelling all distinctions to the Crowne So that which Heaven forbid should they reduce Our English world to their confused use 'T will be admir'd more then a prodegie To hear an Herald state a prodigee An 't will be thought a sharpe and bitter blur To salute any by the title Sir We here present you his deplored fall Whose Death will prove a ruine generall If Fates forbid not and we hold to view What the world knows is not more strange then true Anotomizing Treason damning them Who Murther'd Charls to share His Diadem And to preserve their Soules in flesh whose ends Unto the ruine of all Europe tends But Joves all potent thunder shall divide Their plots and sinke them in their height of pride Exit The Persons Fairfax Ireton Rainsborough Peters Bosvill Cromwell Pride Sir Charls Lucas Sir George Lisle Blackburne Lord Capell Lord Goring Treason Ambition Lust Perjury Sacriledge Revenge Parliament-men Messengers Mrs. Lambert Mutes Souldiers Servants THE TRAGEDIE OF King CHARLES the First ACT. I. Enter Hugh Peters and Oliver Cromwwell Cromwell MY fine facetious Devill who wear'st the Liverie of the Stygian God as the white Embleme of thy innocence Hast thou prepar'd a pithie formall Speech against the essence and the Power of KINGS that when to morrow all my Myrmidons doe meet on Onslow-heath like the

the beaten roade there let our Horses grase awhile I feele strange thoughts fighting about my heart either my guilty fancy did delude me or I beheld the Ghosts of Lucas and of Lisle all full of wounds staring just now upon me there there dost thou see nothing Serv. Not I Sir good Sir let us forsake this gloomie glade it presents horror and besides the night is neer halfe spent Rainsb A grim but supine terror clogs my soule Morpheus with 's leaden Mace arrests my senses I needs must sleep awhile Lies downe Enter Blackburne and his Mates Black Kind Fates I thank you this is that cruell Tyger my Fellowes who contriv'd the much lamented deaths of generous Lucas and the valiant Lisle Rains Ha who sent thee hither He rises up Black Thy sinnes I come to kill thee Rains It is no easie taske that thou hast undertaken I have an arme as vigorous as thine a Pistoll that will lighten e're it thunders a Sword too that ne'r yet forsooke his Master in time of danger Black If thou but call to mind thy damned Treasons thy Charnell plots and vile Conspiracies thy murthers rapines and fell outrages a Child of seven yeares old may quell thy force and lead thee captive in a string if thou dar'st thinke thy numerous crimes have not barr'd up the dore of Heav'n ' gainst thee pray be but speedy in thy orisons I have no mind to kill thy Soule Rains Saucie Slave thinke on thy owne sad end and either at my feet implore remission of thy rash attempt or thou art dead Black So brave have at you Sir Servant This is honour beyond They charge with their Pistols Rainsborow's Man falls also one of Blackburne's Confederates thought to fall or to survive my Masters second Rains Come on Sir Black Though thou hast scap'd my scalding lead my cooler steele shall find a passage to thy heart They sight Rains Thou art not sure invulnerable even Thetis Sonne was slaine by Phrigian Paris but oh my guilt hangs heavie on my Arme and impedes the violence of my blowes there They sight Black Will you not sink or have you many Souls that take their reigne by turnes if it be so I have so good a Cause I cannot shrinke beneath the Trenchant blade till by my single force I have dismiss'd them all there Dogge Rains Injurious Destinies have you inrich'd my fame with many victories over whole Troups of men for to permit my fall in the Catastrophe by a most despicable Knapsack-bearer why carves my flesh as Butchers doe their meat and bores me till I grow transparent Oh! my bloud drils like to some prodigall spout which Huswifes set a tilt to cleanse their linnen but shall I fall without revenge He falls Black Oh! are you measuring out your length in clay Ye Twins of valour Lucas and brave Lisle Your heads up from your earthly pillowes reare And see your Murtherer lie weltering here Rains My spirit 's faint my heart is sick to death I hold the panting lumpe betwixt my teeth But 't will not brooke to stay Let all those that have sought their Soveraignes ruine looke upon me and my deserved destiny I would invoke the powers above but them I have so much exasperated they 'l stop their eares to my complaints Oh! I die Thou King of flames let me in Sulphure swim Neare to that Caudron holds my Patron Pim. He dies Blackburne Oh dire and dreadfull end he 's gone to his owne home the cursed Dungeon with as much willingnesse as holy Anchorites surrender their white Soules to holy Angels his Body we will throw in yonder ditch for Beasts and Birds to prey on They remove him I have some wounds but none I think are mortall Come fellow Souldier let us hast to shelter this deed when once divulg'd will be examin'd strictly Beyond the Seas for safety I will flie Till England once more be a Monarchie Exeunt The end of the fourth Act. ACT. V. Ent. Cromwell with Mrs Lambert in their night Robes Cromwell APollo is too hasty in his rise and emulates my happinesse had Jupiter injoy'd so rare a Creature as thy selfe my Deare in his lascivious armes he would have charm'd bright Phoebus to the East and have united day night in one as when he revell'd 'twixt Amphitrios sheets how likes my love of her new Bed-fellow Mrs Lambert You are as valiant Sir in those soft skirmishes Venus expects in her pavillion as in those deeds of death Mars doth approve of in his Tent of Warre Enter Peters Pet. Good morrow to the most renowned Cromwell his most excellent Mistresse Sir I this morning have receiv'd a Letter directed unto you I thinke it comes from Commissary Ireton Cromwell Some newes of more than ordinary consequence if it beare date from him He opens and reads the Letter Lieutenant Generall THe deed is done which either ever makes or marres us all the King according to the doome of our High Court of Justice this morning lost His Head thousands of people being Spectators of His Tragedy His Body we have given to the Duke of Richmond to be dispos'd of as he thinks fit the Vulgar generally are much inraged at it and say having proceeded so farre in our Treasons against him that we despaired of pardon to preserve our own lives and to make our selves Master over them we have murthered the most virtuous Prince in Europe at his owne dore but we shall muzell the mouthes of that many-headed Hydra ere it be long and in the meane time must resolve to keep what we have got by fraud and force by oppression and violence we have Outlawed the Eldest and Second Sonne of the dead King and proclaimed That if ever they be taken on English ground they shall die without mercy we are now modelizing the Common-wealth in the prosecution of which both Souldiers and Senators desire your aide this I was commanded to certifie you and had I not been commanded it had been done of his owne accord by Your assured Friend to serve you IRETON Crom. Then now I am above the reach of fate prepare my Hugh though not to be a Bishop yet to dispose of a whole Diocesse you Lady the sole Mistresse of my hopes are yet untainted in your Husbands thoughts let him againe repose his horned head betwixt your delicate paps I must with speed to London whence I will send thee thy lap-full of Gold my Danae and Jewels rich and sparkling for to adorne thy onely eminent beauty nor shalt be long ere I in person visit thee Mrs Lambert Sir you have robb'd me both of honour and my heart at once so strange a Fate doth sway me that whatsoe're you judge to be convenient I must not contradict Crom. Thou art as wise as beautious rest confident of my fidelity Farewell Star of the North. Kisses her she goes off Come Hugh lets poste unto the famous Cittie To sit in Councell with the State Committee Exeunt Enter Chorus Now all is lost to humane sense The King is murther'd on pretence He was a Tyrant and in Him Our Lawes and Rights to laethe swim Buried forever in His death Since they subsisted by His Breath 1. See here what would make Indians weep These 14 Versee are spoken wholly in relation to the Kings Murther 2. And force the Monsters of the deep 3. Shed teares into the brinie maine 4. And after drinke them up againe 5. That which forc'd Sol to hide his head 6. Pierc'd into Graves and wak'd the dead He discovers behind the travers the dead body of the King also the Bodies of the Lord Capel Hamilton Holland 7. And that which made the Angels hide 8. Their faces deep in scarlet di'de 9. With their soft wings and doth compell 10. The Catholick to turne Infidel 11. And to believe Presbyter Johns 12. And strictest Solifidians 13. Are damn'd even from their Cradle since 14. They murther'd so divine a Prince This body when possest of life Pointing to Hamilton Was the sole Causer of the strife And breach which so our Land hath rent Betwixt the King and Parliament 'T was he that by his Hell-bred plots decoyd the King amongst the Scots Yet afterward his owne to hold Sold Him to Traytors for their Gold All this in hopes to win that Crowne Desire of which hath brought him downe Unto the earth slaine even by them From whom he hop'd a Diadem His Soule the Furies meane to ply With tortures to eternity This Body when it us'd to walke Pointing to Holland Knew better how to Drab and talke To weare gay Cloathes and Complement Then to be wisely eminent For loyalty unto his King His folly not his faith did bring Him to the Block But here lies one Pointing to the L. Capel The glory of his Nation A man for valour virtue wit Who learning lov'd and cherisht it Without compare his Charity Extended unto each degree Ages and Sex had they no more But this one Devilish Act in store Of murthering him the Rebels sure Could not yet eight yeare more procure To Reigne by bloud by rapines horrors Treason inexplicable terrors But what the Fates allot we must Submit to and in them we trust To see these Monsters fall and rot By God and virtuous men forgot Exit FINIS

the same that Capel Goring Lucas and stout Lisle die without mercy even that very day which we receive the Towne Ireton Which is to morrow Fairfax The Law of Armes will not allow of that they yeild themselves on Quarter and for the Peers I meane Goring and Capel our power doth not extend to question them they must be order'd as our States decree the auncient onely Captaines of the world Hanibal Scipio and Themistocles esteem'd it farre more glorious having conquer'd their proud Antagonists to preserve their lives given them as their boone then to inflict an ugly censure on them I love an Enemy that is truely valiant these have exceeded story in their Acts And have repell'd a Siege such as Breda Never beheld nor famous Ravena Raisborow Then let them live to be a terror to us and once more to ingage the Land in broyles know Sir we are not safe whilst these subsist and should your clement mind so sway your sense as not to take their lives who have sought ours we shall have cause to disesteem your Person and your Power as him whose easie nature and sost temper is incompatible with our persons safety our honour and repute Since if by you mercy to them is showne You seek our ruine and project your owne Fairfax Ha. Ireton Though in a rough unpollish'd phrase he utters truth most noble General let not his seeming rudenesse raise your anger since time hath taught you he is truly faithfull no lesse magnanimous in active war Sir it concernes you neerly not to permit your innate love to valour so graile the wings of just deserved fury you must not tollerate these men to escape with life For 't will be thought if you remisly doe You love their actions and applaud them too Fairfax You then are Generals of the Hoste not I but be it as you councell share you betwixt the brave Spirits of Two that if Pithagor as transmigration were would make a Thersites or Thraso valiant Rainsborow see them shot to death as Souldiers destin'd by fortune to a noble end some two houres hence I shall expect to heare you say they are dead My Soule I feele is wondrously perplext Who knowes but mine or your turne may be next Exit Rainsborow He 's much distemper'd sure they have bought his mercy how stoutly did he argue to preserve them with what reluctancy denounce their doome Ireton An ardent love to worth and honour moves him without all doubt to pitty their sad fate for though mountaines may meet and generate e're they and we enter firme union yet we must needs acknowledge they are Men of most approved valour but see the cheerfull Lady of the light appeares i' the Horizon deck'd in her saffron robe having forsook old Tithons chill imbraces she summons every young and sprightly Sol to wrap her in his odoriferous bosome harke they A shout within shout What may this portend Enter a Souldier What newes doth thy tongue labour with Sould. The Towne of Colchester is just now surrendred unto the Generals hands the Governour Sr Charles Lucas his lov'd associate Sir George Lisle with the L. Capel old Goring and a number more of Gentlemen are cried up as Prisoners Rainsborow Be it thy charge forthwith to certifie Lucas and Lisle that they prepare themselves two howers hence to travaile toward the Empire of the Skies or to the shades of Dis I meane to die Sould. I shall Sir Exit Rainsborow Come Commissary let 's goe view the Towne to cheare our Friends and doome our scornfull Foes It glads my Soule and is the onely good That I delight in for to spill their bloud Exeunt ambo Enter Sr. Ch Lucas Sr. George Lisle as in Prison Sir Charles The iron hand of Jove lies heavy on us oh George the proud Rebellious crew prevaile Loyalty sinks with plumets at his heeles while curst Rebellion rides on the Sun beams justles Jove from his seat and fathomes Clouds Sir George They may thanke that invincible Champion Hunger had not he help'd the Towne had yet been ours the wofull cries of Women and of Children imploring Bread to staunch their pining stomacks their guts almost congeal'd to stone within them their faces black with famine stalking the streets like magicke summon'd Ghosts together with our owne dire need inforc'd us to surrender to those Rebels but Joves dread vengeance sure will seize on them that mought but would not have prevented this degenerate London who hast shaken hands with thine Allegiance thy aspiring Fabricks ere long must lie What speaks thy haste Enter a Souldier Soul From the Commanders Col. Rainsborow and Cōmissary Ireton I have in trust to let you know some minutes hence you are to die Exit Sr Charls Oh perjur'd Miscreants is this your mercy this my prophetick Soule still whisper'd to me I knew they in our blouds would bathe their guilt and sacrifice our lives to their God Treason these Victims befit Molech not Messiah whom these professed Saints but reall Devils seem to make the umpire of their deeds Angry Rhamnusia though we fall to dust Punish these Traytors for their acts unjust Sir George Then 't is decreed we must take leave of day light and tread the paths of immortality Jove art thou just hast thou reward for those Who unto pious acts their lives difpose And hast thou lost thy vengeance can it be That these aspiring Titans scape Scot-free Where are thy dire Cyclopean balles the same That mudling Mulciber doth in Lemnos frame 'T is thy Olympick vigour can alone Ding downe these Rebels unto Phlegeton Enter three Souldiers armed Ha what are you Souldiers Your Executioners Sir Charles You are our welcomest friends who is allotted to make his exit first 1. Sould. Your selfe must lead the dance of death Sir Charles Here then I bid farewell unto this Stage of misery my life hath been but one continued Scene wovenwith perturbations and anxieties but stay whither must now my fleeting Soul take wing into you Starry mansion or steep Tartarus up to the Milkie way she 'l take her flight Where Soules of Heroes doe enjoy their blisse Where all Celestiall comforts meet and kisse Mankinds Redeemer oh Emanuel Who in Mans shape on Earth were pleas'd to dwell Receive my better part are you prepar'd Souldiers We are Sir Charles Charge me then home I love to chew those Winter-plums they are those Cordiall comfits I accept as sick men do great Gallens Antidotes methinks the Earth goes round Copernicus thou didst relate a truth that Tellus ever hath an Ague fit Sol wrap thy glorious head within a Cloud or if thou needs wilt view my Destinie put on a maske of bloud Death is but Somnus Harbinger we visit his all-peacefull Monarchy e're we arive at Heavens golden gates where such as knock with a religious hand doe never misse of entrance Let me imbrace thee George e're I part hence They imbrace Thou wilt not long survive me Shoot shoot Incomparable