Loss our trembling Heart such wise lament As they like Semi and Demi-Quavers went So he is gone as Heaven hath thought iâ— best And after all his pains hath made a Rest Musicks best Instrument his body made Wherein his soul upon the Organs plai'd But Death was likewise Sacrilegious grown Who rudely hath those Organs overthrown For other Exequies what need we call Play o're his Hearse his own fam'd Funeral The doleful Aire that he compos'd to mourn For beauteous Reppingtons untimely Urne What need more words when no words can declare The Merits of a Man so wondrous rare He was too excellent for earth And 's gone To be in Heaven a prime Musician Letters to divers Persons 1. To the Right Honourable John Lord Mohun Baron of Okehampton my Vncle in Law MY Lord unto you now I have not writ For Ostentation or to boast my wit I know it weak this onely is to shew How willingly I 'de pay the debt I owe Which though I cannot I should be most rude To let my Silence prove Ingratitude I must write therefore though when I have done I rest in silent Admiration Be you but pleas'd to reade although t is true I cannot draw a line deserveth you So gracious Kings will give their Subjects leave To gratulate the Blessings they receive Let our most able Poets such as can Feign vertues for a well deserving Man Express with th'eloquence of all the Arts Half one of your Innumerable Parts I can but onely wonder and profess I know so little that I cannot guess It were an easier matter to declare The heights and depthes that in each Science are All Labyrinthes that Dialect affords And Critick-like which are the hardest words Of you a Character would be a task Maeonides and Maro would not ask If for preeminence they were to write It is so weighty and their skill so slight The fluent Singer of the Changes would In imploration for Aide grow old And yet they were the Miracles of Wit Through all Times famous and renowned yet Honour'd by Grandees of the world and by The Supreme beauty of sweet Italy Witness the conquering Macedonian Prince Who wept for envy Homer's eloquence And mighty Poesie rais'd to the Stars Achilles Fame and thunder'd not his wars And great Augustus who could easily slight All other things t' admire rich Virgil's height Witness bright Julia too who far above The Roman Princes all did Ovid love Happy was Orpheus that in former times To admiration did rehearse his rhimes So was Amphion too that long ago His matchless skill in poetry did show Had they been your Contemporaries they Whom all men did and Salvages obey And rocks and trees with all their study ne're Could pen one line worth your attentive ear Had great Aeacides your worthes he so Had not effected Hectors Overthrow He had been slain fairly or liv'd for great And worthy mindes unworthy Actions hate Ajax was onely honour'd in the field Would you had pleaded for him for the sheild The Ithacan disgrac'd away had gone And the blunt Souldier put the trophie on Comparisons are odious I disgrace You to look on you by anothers face You Heaven-bred souls whom Phoebus doth inspire From high Olympus with Poetick fire Bewail no more these ignorant wretched days This singular Lord will not withhold the Bays You Sisters that frequent the Thespian Spring And on Parnassus Io Paeans sing He hath been and is now a Patron to you And in his own immortal Lays doth woe you Proceed my Lord and let it be your Glory No Chronicler dares put you in his Story For if your vertues verse cannot express I must believe that heavy Prose much less Again proceed and let this move you to it Of your own worthes you must be your own Poet Or let your vertues rule Amazements throne To be expres'd by no Muse but your own And lest from your own goodness you decline Pardon each fault that is in every line 2. To my friend and Kinsman Mr. George Giffard who cal'd his Mistress the Green Bird of France THe Necromancy of your love doth change Your Mistress to a Bird so to ' estrange Her name from vulgar ears and to conceal Those harmless passages of love you steal And by this means be your heart what it will Your tongue's Platonick that can keep this still But sure your judgement and most curious eyes Fancie no bird but that of Paradise The Phoenix or a third of mighty worth A wonder and a Glory to the earth Jove's Eagle's too aspiring to invite Your mind to love or love to apetite The Doves of Venus you too gentle know And yours must give you cause to court and wo. Minerva's Owl is onely for the Night And your fair Mistress doth become the light Saturnia's Peacock hath a gaudy train But feet too course such Colours to sustain Your Bird so curious is she would disperse The Clouds of prose and make it run in verse She 's not deriv'd from Magellanick Streights Where the most numerous Parat-Covey delights But from a richer Soyle and may perchance The Dolphin wake to court the Bird of France But Caesars self might conquer Gaul anew And with his victories not trouble you Your fair green Bird of France doth know her power Superiour to the roughest Conquerour Whil'st she resists no fort so strong as she Whose victour must her own consenting be Nor martial engine sword or piece can move Her from your love while she will be your love But if her Resolution alter then Her how to you will you retrieve agen Like the mad lover make your heart the sure And that will bring her or she 'l come no more Had Hymen lighted his auspicious Pine And you joyn'd happy hands before his shrine Then would not you and your admired love The Changes imitate of amorous Jove Who like a Swan fair Laeda did compress And on her got the Twins Tyndarides But why since Birds are of all colours seen Do you call her you most affect the Green The Firmament we see attir'd in blew But that too heavenly a Colour is for you The earth is green and you do think most fit That she be so while she doth live on it The Sea is green and Sea-born Venus was Made beauties Goddess being most beauteous Lass And your fair One whom you think Parallel To her you call the Green-Bird wondrous well All health I wish her from each sickness free But one whose cure I do commit to thee If the Green Sickness she doth chance to get Your Love and Care of her may remed it 3. To the right honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon c. MY Lord I have not silent been so long For want of zeal but fear'd to do you wrong Could I but draw a line deserv'd your eyes Your name should from the earth touch at the skies But as the meanest Pesants came before The greatest Caesars Rome did ere adore And as the gracious Gods no
should not your indignation move The Gods will give us leave their Heaven to love He lives unto Report and so shall I If slain demonstrate your great Cruelty You are my Empress under your fair hand Send me what Destiny you will command My Fate is what you please to have it I Live by your kindness or your coyness dye 4. Lady in your applause verse goes As slow and dull as heavy prose And your known worthes would you submit Your self a subject unto Wit Would blunt invention and ore'come With strong Amaze make Poets dumbe By what means then shall I declare My thoughts at height or what you are A world of Paper would but be My love in an Epitome Fair Lady therefore do not look For my affection in a book Search my life through and if you find Not what I can do be unkind 5. Petrarch for the neat Sonnets he did frame In Laura's praise obtain'd a Poets Name I of my Mistress write in verse and show it And yet I do profess I am no Poet. They feign but I speak truth what they invent Out of long study for a Complement In me is earnest Those rich words that they Enforce upon some beauties I can lay With reverence on you whom I adore And Times to come may as a Saint implore Then unto all may you propitious be I wish to heaven you now were so to me Believe because these are unsmooth my wit Dul'd with amazement and my hand unfit To hold a pen so steddy as to write Lest some Offence should frustrate my delight Your Beauty is my wonder That you should Prove merciless my fear but my most bold And happiest earthly wish is That you may With kindness save whom else your beauties slay 6. Lady I love and if you can Believe there is a faith in man No one can think a Mistress fitter Nor any love a Mistris better When I do look on you I scorn The rosie blushes of the morn When I do hear you speak I know No musick can so sweetly go When I at first your lips did touch I thought Jove never met with such I tasted Odours in your breath Able to win a Soul from death All things that have been by you smell So fragrant after and so well That Flora may be banished And you elected in her stead My sences being yours make all My future days one Festival And comfort me who now am sad Least losing Senses I grow mad 7. Now after tedious weeks of being mute The Mistress of my life I do salute As it is in your power to make each line Of Poesie I write to you divine For if you kindly smile on them you give Ability enough to make them live So is it in your power if you would please To speak those words to raise me unto ease For unto me Enceladus doth lye In flakes of Snow and I in Fiers dye Do not believe I counterfeit who think Verses in your praise would transcolour Inke And your Glass an Elizium where one may Behold your Shadow ere your dying day And that reflection I had rather view Then all the beauties in the world but you Had I your Picture reasonably wrought No Lady like it should command my thought Pigmalion-like I would adore't until You did prove kind or me my griefes did kill Think not I do dissemble For who can Look on your face unmov'd that is a man Who ist'hath heard your voice but he will say Your Tongue can charm all hearers to obey And who hath touch'd your lips but like unto A Lethe-drinker forgets all save you But I am extasied you are above My best expressions though I am in love 8. When I look on your Ribband-knots I find That my rash gazing eies have thral'd my mind For they become you so exceeding well That they have tide my toung I cannot tell When I perceive the wanton Windes to play With your unequal'd hair amaz'd I stay And bless their happiness that they can move Those amorous tresses and not fall in love When you into Hide Parke do go all there To follow the race-riders do forbear And all of them unanimously approch And as if waiters do attend your Coach That your fair eys may shine on them whose light Doth set their hearts on fier at the sight And force vows from them that for your dear sake Of greatest toils they greatest joys would make But what do I do then I nothing can Your beauties make a Statue of a Man I cannot look and talke to you like some Lady your matchless Beauties strike me dumbe But when I am retired and alone My resolutions then do yeild to none Regard reward my earnest love and so Raise me to heights of joy from depths of wo. 9. Lady from Cornwall unto you I writ But my hard Fates kept you from seeing it How glad had I been if that you had known That there I was yours much more then mine own Each wind that blew I lov'd because I thought The sound thereof might to your ears be brought Each Showre that came I wish'd of gold and that Jove-like I fell into my Danae's lap Each star I saw put me in minde of thee But th' art too fair a little star to be I went to Sea and when I there was come I thought of him that to his Hero swom And wish't so you did love as she did him That like Leander I to you might swim But now I am return'd again be you As kind to me as you have found me true 10. Awake my Muse put on thy best attire To sing her Beauty and my raging fire Make all the world know since she will not know That she is much to blame to use me so Sweet cruel fair one unto all of these You may reply causes of my unease For you are sweet as flowry May's west wind Why should so sweet a Creature be unkinde And you are fair and fair and sweet must be The reason I endure your Cruelty Each Statue I see makes me my Case thus mone It hath a Body you an heart of stone I fain would die but thinking I must come To be a wanderer in Elizium I do destroy that infant-thought for there No Soul 's so pure as is your body here Each night my troubled thoughts keep sleep away That time 's to me as busie as the day But you that are with never a care opprest Enamour the night Deities in your rest Old Somnus fears his wand may do some ill And therefore charms your eies with kisses still O that I knew the way whereby to move My sweet and cruel fair One unto love Will sighing do it O you Gods of wind Lend me your breathes that I may sigh her kind Will tears prevail O that my eies would then Melt out themselves into an Ocean Or may Entreaties win upon her sense Assist me all you Powers of eloquence Pity my miseries which are grown so high That
agree With tears on earth T is an Antipathie But 't is unnatural we should be glad And 't is Impiety we should be sad We must not grieve therefore nor yet rejoyce But fix us in the mean and shew us wise Be glad that we believe her soul is crown'd With endless Glory in Heavens ample Round Onely lament that we have lost our guide And wanting her are apt to wander wide We need not bid thee sleep secure that know That God himself rock'd thee asleep below Sweet Sainted Maid thou meritest the Pen Of Cherubims to shew thee unto men And dost deserve a bench of Poets grave To study and to write thine Epitaph Which in Mosaick work with diamonds bright Should be drawn out and read by it's own light A Titian or a Bonarota should Cast thee a Statue of pure Ophir Gold Had'st thou thy due the eager earth would sure Anatomize one India for Ore And precious stones a Pyramid to reare Lasting and great as the Egyptian were To thy eternal memorie and from Th e eastern-lands bring all the plenteous sum Of spices and perfumes and on the height Of that rich monument burn them day and night But 't is a thing impossibly too hard For men on earth to give thee thy reward Thy God whose power and love is infinite Thee hath and doth and ever will requite Among the Chorus of Heavens Virgins pure To sing Divinest Anthems evermore The homely verses I have writ she oft Hath smil'd upon approv'd them smooth and soft And if my pen hath power to give a fame Dear Isabella here shall live thy Name Had I the deathless Homer's brain and could Sing lofty numbers like to Maro Old A wit to match Sulmonean Ovid I Had writ a Poem not an Elegie T is known and I confess this is beneath Her Life and her expressions at her death Her resurrection plain will shew how well She led her life and bad the World Farewel 3. On the death of Henry Lord Hastings Son to the right Honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon c. KNow all to whom these few sad lines shall come This melancholy Epicedium The young Lord Hastings death occasion'd it Amidst a â—â—orm of Lamentations writ Tempests of sighes and grones and flowing eyes Whose yielding balls dissolve to Deluges And mournful Numbers that with dreadful sound Waite his bemoned body to the ground Are all and the last duties we can pay The Noble Spirit that is fled away T is gone alas t is gone though it did leave A body rich in all Nature could give Superiour in beauty to the youth That won the Spartan Queen to forfeit truth Break wedlocks strictest bonds and be his wife Environed with tumults all her Life His years were in the balmie Spring of Age Adorn'd with blossomes ripe for marriage And but mature His sweet conditions known To be so good they could be none but 's own Our English Nation was enamour'd more On his full worth then Rome was heretofore Of great Vâ—â—paâ—â—an's Jew-subduing Heire The love and the Delight of mankind here After a large survey of Histories Our Criticks curious in honour wise In paralleling generous Souls will finde This youthful Lord did bear as brave a minde His few but well spent years had master'd all The liberal Arts And his sweet tongue could fall Into the ancient Dialects dispence Sacred Judeas amplest eloquence The Laâ—ine Idiome elegantly true And Greek as rich as Athens ever knew Italy France and Spain did all confess Him perfect in their modern Languages At his Nativity what angry Star Malignant influences slung so far What Caput Algolls and what dire Aspects Occasioned so tragical effects As soon as death this fatal blow had given I fancy mighty Clarence sigh'd in Heaven And till this glorious Soul arrived there Recover'd not from his Amaze and fear Had this befal'n in ancient credulous times He had been deifi'd by Poets rimes That Age enamour'd of his Graces soon Majestick Fanes in adoration Would have rays'd to his memory and there On golden Altars year succeeding year Burnt holy incense and Sabaean Gums That Curles of vapour from those Hecatombs Sould reach his Soul in Heaven but we must pay No such Oblations in our purer way A nobler Service we him owe then that His fair example ever t'emulate With the Advantage of our double years Le ts imitate him and through all Affairs And all Encounters of our Lives intend To live like him and make as good an end To aim at brave things is an evident signe In Spirits that to honour they incline And though they do come short in the Contest T is full of glory to have done one's best You mournful Parents whom the Fates compel To bear the Loss of this great miracle This wonder of our Times amidst a sigh Surrounded with your thick'st Calamity Reflect on joy think what an happiness Though humane Nature oft conceits it less It was to have a Son of so much worth He was too good to grace the wretched earth As silver Trent through our North Countries glides Adorn'd with Swans crown'd with flowry sides And rushing into mightier Humbers Waves Augments the Regal Aestuarium's Braves So he after a life of eighteen years Well mannaged Example to our Peeres In 's early youth encountring sullen Fate Orecome became a Trophey to his State Didst thou sleep Hymen or art lately grown T' affect the Subterranean Region Enamour'd on bleard Libentina's eyes Hoarse-howling Dirges and the baleful Cries Of Inauspicious voices and above Thy Star-like torch with horrid tombs in love Thou art or surely hadst oppos'd this high Affront of death against thy Deity Nor wrong'd an excellent Virgin who had given Her heart to him who hath his Soul to Heaven Whose Beauties thou hast clouded and whose eyes Drowned in tears at these sad Exequies The fam'd Heroes of the golden Age Those Demigods whose vertues did asswage And calm the furies of the wildest mindes That were grown salvage even against their kinds Might from their Constellations have look'd down And by this young Lord seen themselves out-gon Farewel Admired Spirit that art free From this strict Prison of Mortalitie Ashby proud of the honour to enshrine The beauteous Body whence the Soul Divine Did lately part be careful of thy trust That no profane hand wrong that hallow'd Dust The Costly Marble needes no friend t'engrave Upon it any doleful Epitaph No good Man's tongue that Office will decline Whil'st years succeeding reach the end of time 4. On the death of my dear Cousin Germane Mrs. Olive Cotton who deceased at Berisford the 38th year of her Age and lyes buried at Bently by Ashbourne c. AMongst the many that shall celebrate With sighes and tears this excellent womans Fate And with the many that shall fix a verse Sacred unto her Fame upon her Herse World pardon me my boldness that intrude These few poor lines upon thy Multitude They need not read them I have
traduce an Innocence Those Crimes that are by some on others thrown Guiltlesly they do make those faults their own And the just Judge their punishment will give Due to the sins that they have slander'd with Besides his Soul he within vengeance bounds That with a truth a reputation wounds Your Friend and mine so much abus'd doth fall Under the First and not the last at all To talk of things commonly known and true No mulct from Heaven will unto us accrue But sure he of a blest Condition is That hates of any one to speak amiss That hath a merciful and candid thought And thinks all good rather then any naught Heaven by a spotless life is won and by The patient bearing of an Infamy 84. To my honest Cousins Mr. Robert Milward and Mr. Roger King You best of Friends and my best Friends that me Have many years grace'd with your Amity My lines you honour with your worthy Names A lasting Glory to my Epigrams As Princes Stamps upon base metals do Make them prove currant and of value too 85. To Sir Francis Boteler my brother in law from Ashbourn How Christmas steals upon us as in fear To be oppos'd by the bold Presbyter And how you part from us against this Time As if you thought to meet it here a Crime But oh inevitable business when Old Christmas we meant to have trick'd agen In 's long neglected usual Ornaments You have prevented it by going hence So your Departure we accuse to be Guilty by chance of an Impietie Tom Hurt Will Taylour and my self shall mourn Till you recover our joy by your return 86. To the right Honourable Henry Lord Hastings Baron of Loughborough My Lord when in my youth I for some while Did leave the pleasures of our native Isle And travel'd France and Italy I spent Methought my Time in a most high content And was so far from longing to return That I when I was sent for home did mourn And doubtless you are pleas'd who now enjoy A Calme after a storme of jeopardy Homer his Iliads might have writ of you And as our fear prompts his Odysses too But we will hope the best and that you may As er'st Ulysses to his Ithaca Return to England all those tumults past And finde it crown'd with happy dayes at last Be reconcil'd to every own and know Among so many Friends no single foe 87. To my Noble Cousin Mr. Henry Hastings of Branston Sir since our first acquaintance ever through Our Friendship with the Noble Loughborough What tumults have we seen and dangers past Such as in graves have many thousands cast And yet we live thanks to the Powers Divine And love I thank your Friendship gracing mine I needes must say such troubles disagree Both with my Genius as well as me Though Poets often sing of Wars and with A mighty verse an Eccho seem to give To the shrill Trumpet or the loudest Gun That thunder rores and spreads destruction Yet in a sweet retreat from care and noise They draw those lines that make those Sympathies And though I am no Poet I confess I am enamour'd much of Quietness 88. To the right honourable Charles Lord Cokaine Viscount Cullen My Lord you have an honest Heart and known To be of a most sweet Condition A Grace unto our Family and Name And every where of a most candid Fame This is a truth but lest you should suppose If I proceed I flatter'd here I close 89. An Epitaph on my worthy Cousin German Colonel Michael Stanhope slain at Willoughbie-Fight and lyes buried in the Church there Here Michael Stanhope lies who fought and dy'd When prosp'rous fortune left the Regal side He of a dauntless minde by all was known And of a Noble disposition Yet his conditions and his valiant Heart Could not prevail with Death to stay his Dart For here he lies and doth by 's Fall express Great Courages do often want Success 90. An Epitaph on my dear Cousin German Mrs. Olive Cotton Passenger stay and notice take of her Whom this Sepulchral marble doth inter For Sir Stanhope's Daughter and his Heir By his first wife a Berisfor'd lies here Her Husband of a Noble house was one Every where for his worthes belov'd and known One onely Son she left whom we presage A grace t' his family and to our age She was too good to live and young to die Yet stay'd not to dispute with destinie But soon as she receiv'd the summons given Sent her fair Soul to wait on God in Heaven Here what was mortal of her turns to dust To rise a Glorious Body with the just Now thou may'st go But take along with thee To guide thy Life and Death her Memory 91. To my Cousin German Mr. John Stanhope of Elveston When in an Epigram I did salute Your other brothers and of you was mute The reason was because I did not know Whether that then you were alive or no. Your safety I congratulate and wish You a long Life of as long happiness This Tribute of my Love to you I give Under the Honour of your Name to live 92. Of Caesar and Cleopatra Great Caesars vaunt is known to all who said That he did come look't on and conquered But when to Egypt he did come from Rome And saw the Queen he then was overcome But to prove rather he was not beguil'd Her he o'recame for he got her with childe 93. An Epitaph on my most honour'd Kinsman Colonel Ralph Sneyd who dy'd in the Isle of Man about the 40th year of his Age. Here lyes a body that gave Lodging to A Soul as noble as the world did know It was well-organ'd handsome manly and Of equal structure to the best o' th Land Yet was unworthy of the Soul was given And therefore dy'd cause that fled back to Heaven Here Colonel Ralph Sneyd doth lie In brief The joy of mankind living now the grief 94. Of Slander To speak too well of thousands safer is Then of one single Person once amiss Happy is he therefore whose wary tongue Wisely refrains to do another wrong 95. To Elveston a Town in Darbyshire Dear Elveston that art a grace Unto the Shire where I was born And Elveston that art the Place Where first I did salute the Morn The noble Stanhopes are thy praise Whom thou afford'st a birth and Urne And may they flourish there always Till th' world to Chaos doth return 96. Of Venice Translated out of Sannazarius Viderat Adriacis Venctam Neptunus in undis Stare urbem toti ponere jura mari Nunc mihi Tarpejas quantum vis Jupiter arces Obâ—ice illa tui maenia Martis ait Si pelago Tibrim praefers urbem aspice utramque Illam homines dices hanc posuisse Deos. Englished In Adriatick Waters Neptune saw Venice that layes on the whole Sea a Law Object Tarpejan Towers Jove whil'st thou wilt He said and walls by thy Mars Off-spring built Prefer'st thou Tyber view
winds blow back the Seas agen And cover you that women henceforth may Beware and earnest love with earnest pay But I am patient and though in vaine I love I dare not therefore be profane May you arrive safely and soon and live In all felicity whil'st I here grieve And sigh and weep for you may not a thought Of yours remember me be I forgot Lest when you think how you have left me you Should give a stop unto your mirth and rue But one word more it is not yet too late To make a wretched Lover fortunate Let not my prayers sighes vows be spent in vain But as I do love you so love again And we will go together never part Till I your body have who have my heart Which had I in possession I should finde Ways soon enough to win your backward mind 24. Although she cannot number thousands even With some deform'd whom Fortune more hath given Shall want of wealth scorn'd by true happiness Resist my way or make me love her less Yet hath she a fair Portion and her Name From one of our best Houses Coritane And she is beauteous as a cheerful day Or Venus rising from her Mother-Sea Are not her teeth the richest Pearls and sure He that hath Pearls enow cannot be poor Are not her radiant eies two diamonds fair And we all know that those stones precious are Art not her hairs of Gold And what but it fit Makes wrinkles smooth Age youth unfit things Her beauteous Cheekes are Roses such as neither The Spring can give nor the cold Winter wither Her lovely Breasts are Apples of more worth Then ever the Hesperides brought forth Arabian Odours both the India's Good She in one curious body doth include Cupid in nothing more his eies doth miss Then that he cannot see how fair she is Jupiter for her would unthrone his Queen And Pluto leave his lovely Proserpine Neptune from Amphitrite would remove And Mars for her forsake the Queen of love She 's like a Soul before it doth depart Even all in all and All in every part No man hath seen her but to every Sence Of him she bettereth the intelligence He knows his eies are perfect in their sight That in no other Object can delight He knows his smelling's exquisite that doth When he hath felt her breath all others loth A perfume for the Gods most fit and sweet When they at Counsel on Olympus meet And Iris they or Mercury beneath T is likely send for her so fragrant breath A free and unconfined touching her Above the lips of Queens all would prefer Or sacred hands of bounteous Kings compar'd The pretious Down of Phoenix's being hard Unto her softer skin And her sweet Tongue Which chides in Musick and enchantes in song And strikes the ablest Rhetoricians dumb Is fit'st to plead the peace of Christendom He in the sphere of happiness will move On whom she pleases to bestow her love And have the most delicious Repast That shall her Hymenaean Dainties tast You that are beauty in the Zenith who Can find no Equal wheresoer'e you go My Love no longer cruelly despise But dart me mercy from your gracious eyes And we shall both be rich For I am sure Themselves no happy Lovers ere thought poore 25. To her obtain'd Past are my sighs and woes complaints and tears Nor am I longer subject to my fears Her frowns no more strike terrour to my soul Though I was wounded she hath made me whole Within the rank of happy Lovers I Am now enrol'd and march triumphantly Ore all the Crosses that before did stay And hinder me to enter in this way And sing the Boy-Gods praise who wanting sight Shot at my Mistress and did hit the White My happiness is such that Times to come Shall not complain I of my joys was dumbe Let him whose Mistress is deform'd or old Not worth a Sonnet nor a Line withhold Or if on such an heap of years or sad Chaos of features he will needs run mad Loose the true judgement of his eyes or think That Channel water's Nectar he doth drink Let him profess he 's happy ne're so much The World that sees her cannot think him such 'T were fondness in me that what ere my youth Writ in her praise I now should say was truth I would not if I could but to be just To her and to my self thus much I must I 'm so far from repenting of my choice That every day she 's dearer in mine eyes Dear heart and dearer to me then mine heart We 'l live in love and in our loves depart The World shall bless our Fates and they that come Into sad bonds wish happy Lovers dumb Funeral Elegies 1. On the Death of my very good Friend Mr. Michaâ—l Drayton PHoebus art thou a God and canst not give A Priviledge unto thine own to live Thou canst But if that Poets nere should dye In Heaven who should praise thy Deity Else â—ill my Drayton thou hadst liv'd and writ Thy life had been immortal as thy wit But Spencer is grown hoarse he that of late Song Glorianâ— in her Elfin state And so is Sydney whom we yet admire Lighting our little Torches at his fire These have so long before Apollo's Throne Carrel'd Encomiums that they now are growne Weary and faint and therefore thou didst dye Their sweet unfinish'd Ditty to supply So was the Iliad-writer rapt away Before his lov'd Achilles fatall day And when his voice began to fail the great 〈…〉 did assume his seat Therefore we must not mourn unless it be 〈◊〉 none is left worthy to follow thee It is in vain to say thy lines are such As neither time not envies rage can touch For they must live and will whiles there 's an eye To reade or wit to judge of Poetrie You Swans of Avon change your fates and all Sing and then die at Drayton's Funeral Sure shortly there will not a drop be seen And the smooth-pebbled Bottom be turn'd green When the Nymphes that inhabit in it have As they did Shakespeere wept thee to thy grave But I molest thy quiet sleep whil'st we That live would leave our lives to die like thee 2. On my dear Sister Mrs. Isabella Cokaine who who died at Ashbourne about the 18th yeer of her Age and lyes there buried IT is an irreligious pride to turne Away our eyes and not to see thine Urne For sure that body whose blest soul doth keep A Jubile in heaven while here asleep It lies in holy earth is every day Bless'd by good Angels that do pass that way And therefore we with reverence should eye The Sepulchres where Saints entomb'd do lye And every time that we do go or come Nigh where thine Ashes lye behold thy Tombe But when we see it should we weep our eyes Dry of their tears and then conclude in cries It is impossible that our complaints Should make a Diapason to the Saints â—an Hallelujahs song above
interre Was in Sybilla's Cave and on the Ground Cal'd Vulcans Forge yielding an hollow sound At Pausalip pass'd through that hollow path Which Virgil for its primest Glory hath These and the rest beheld One day got up On evermore smoking Vesuvius top Vesuvius that two years before did throw Such death and damage upon all below Which burnt up grass and trees did make appear And tore Griego that did stand too near Above three weeks I did at Naples stay Then in a Galley went to Genoa Which in it an Embassador did bear To th' Cardinal Infante landed there Sent by the Vice-Roy to salute his hands Going t' be Governour o th' Netherlands I there remain'd but a few days but found A vessel that was for Marseilles bound I in it thither pass'd but by the way Did at Savona land and dinner stay I at Marseille but two dayes abode And the next after to Avignion rode I din'd at Orange and lay at Vienne And so to Lyons did return agen There stai'd a day or two and then did ride Unto Roana on the Loyers side About three days and nights along that streame We went by Boat till we to Briack came There we did leave the River and next morne Unto Mount-Argis did again return The morning after we from thence did go And lay that Night at pleasant Fountain-Bleau Thence we to Conbril went and on the Seine To Paris thence by Boat did come again There I above two moneths then made a stay Save on Saint Dennis wonders spent a day After which time I went to Amiens There lay one night and went to Calice thence As my stay serv'd what ever was of Fame Or note I visited where ere I came Four days I was in Calice then cross'd over The Sea in eight hours space and came to Dover Encomiastick verses on several Books To my friend Mr. Thomas Randolph on his Play called the Entertainment Printed by the name of the Muses Looking-Glass SOme austere Cato's be that do not stick To term all Poetry base that 's Dramatick These contradict themselves For bid them tell How they like Poesie and they 'l answer well But as a stately Fabrick raiâ—ed by The curious Science of Geometrie If one side of the Machine pe ish all Participates with it a ruinous fall So they are enemies to Helicon That vow they love all Muses saving one Such supercilious humours I deâ— I se And like Thalia's harmless Comedies Thy entertainment had so good a Fate That whosoe're doth not admire thereat Discloseth his own Ignorance for no True Moralist would be supposed thy foe In the pure Thespian Spring thou hast refin'd Those harsh rude rules thy Author hath design'd And made those precepts which he did reherse In heavy prose to run in nimble verse The Stagarite will be slighted who doth list To read or see 't becomes a Moralist And if his eyes and ears are worth thine Ore Learn more in two hours then two years before Thou hast my suffrage Friend And I would fain Be a Spectator of thy Scenes again To my friend Mr. Philip Massinger on his Tragi-comedy called the Emperour of the East SUffer my Friend these lines to have the grace That they may be a mole on Venus face There is no fault about thy book but this And it will shew how fair thine Emperour is Thou more then Poet our Mercury that art Apollo's Messenger and dost impart His best expressions to our ears live long To purifie the slighted English Tongue That both the Nymphes of Tagus and of Po May not henceforth despise our language so Nor could they do it if they ere had seen The machless features of the Faery Queen Read Johnson Shakespeare Beaumont Fletcher or Thy neat-lin'd pieces skilful Massinger Thou known all the Castellians must confess De Vega Carpio thy foil and bless His Language can translate thee and the fine Italian wits yield to this work of thine Were old Pythagoras alive again In thee he might finde reason to maintain His Paradox that Souls by transmigration In divers bodies make their habitation And more that all poetick Souls yet known Are met in thee contracted into one This is a truth not an applause I am One that at farthest distance view thy flame Yet dare pronounce that were Apollo dead In thee his Poetry might all be read Forbear thy modesty thy Emperours vein Shall live admir'd when Poets shall complain It is a pattern of too high a reach And what great Phoebus might the muses teach Let it live therefore and I dare be bold To say It with the world shall not grow old To my Friend Mr. Philip Massinger on his Tragi-comedy called the Maid of Honour WAs not thine Emperour enough before For thee to give that thou dost give us more I would be just but cannot that I know I did not slander this I fear I do But pardon me if I offend thy fire Let equal poets praise whil'st I admire If any say that I enough have writ They are thy Foes and envy at thy wit Believe not them nor me they know thy Lines Deserve applause and speak against their mindes I out of Justice would commend thy Play But Friend forgive me 't is above my way One word and I have done and from my heart Would I could speak the whole truth not the part Because 't is thine It henceforth shall be said Not th'maid of honour but the honour'd maid Of Mr. John Fletcher his Plays and especially the Mad Lover WHil'st his well organ'd Body doth retreat To it's first matter and the formal heat Triumphant fits in judgement to approve Pieces above our Candor and our love Such as dare boldly venture to appear Unto the curious eye and Critick ear Lo the Mad Lover in these various times Is prest to life t' accuse us of our Crimes Whil'st Fletcher liv'd who equal to him writ Such lasting monuments of natural wit Others might draw their lines with sweat like those That with much pains a Garrison enclose Whil'st his sweet fluent vein did gently run As uncontrol'd and smoothly as the Sun After his Death our Theatres did make Him in his own unequal'd Language speak And now when all the Muses out of their Approved modesty silent appear This Play of Fletchers braves the envious Light As wonder of our ears once now our sight Three and fourfold best Poet who the lives Of Poets and of Theatres survi'st A Groom or Ostler of some wit may bring His Pegasus to the Castalian Spring Boast he a Race ore the Pharsalian plain Or happy Tempe valley dares maintain Brag at one leap upon the double Cliffe Were it as high as monstrous Temariffe Of far renown'd Parnassus he will get And there t' amaze the world confirm his seat When our admired Fletcher vaunts not ought And slighted every thing he writ as nought Whil'st all our English wondring world in 's cause Made this great City eccho with applause Read him
in you to make T rue friendship wheresoe're you undertake T hus you do live and living so you may O mit the care of your departing day N o death can raze your memory away 19. To my very good Friend and Cousin Mr. Roger King I love and so do you but know you whom Faith that same party best that first doth come And my love is as constant as her stay Why should I love her when she goes away If you are of the same mind we are then Two constant Lovers though not constant men We both are still in love but fix not for We the new Object evermore preferr And that affection surely is most wise That comes not from the heart but from the eyes 20. To Thalia Weep out thine eyes Thalia why are they Unmelted yet into an Inland-Sea Drown all thy slanderers with them such as dare Affirm thee guilty and thy name not fair Or rather scorn their Ignorance that frame Unworthy Calumnies against thy Name Mnemosyne thou mother of the maides And you sweet Sisters that in Ascra shades Retired from the troubles of the Earth To many a lasting verse give fortunate birth Do'st not offend you that the Comick Muse Should suffer such affronts and high abuse Because that I frequent the thronged Stage I 'm censur'd by the malice of this Age Of Levity but I despise the frowns Of rigid Cato's and the hiss of Clowns Illiterate Fools may please their gluttonous tast At dinner with some Epicure-Lord and wast Their precious dayes in riot whil'st I feed Mine ears with all the wit these Times do breed Sing loud Thalia Noble Souls will love To see thy Servants in their Socks to move And may their ends be Tragical that hate The harmless mirth thy Comedies create I do profess I 'm one that do admire Each word refin'd in true Poetick fire And do approve of natural action where Fables seem as true passages they were And love our Theatres of worth where we May thee in all thy several dresses see 21. An Epitaph on my dear Cousin German Mrs. Elizabeth Stanhope who died at Elveston about the 20th year of her age and lies there buried Here lies a Virgin and in stead Of losing of her Maiden-head For she should soon have been a wife Bereaved of a noble Life Stanhopes lament and Ratcliffes mourn Before her sad untimely Urne But such a sorrow is too slight For cause of so extreme a weight Droop Elveston and Darbyshire No Green but black perpetual wear May April showers to Heavens tears turning Make all May-flowers spring up in mourning Weep all that ever knew her or Rather all that have heard of her For trivial Deaths let 's mourning wear Of black for her of cloth of hair Or let us senseless clothes despise And show our sadness in our eyes Let 's melt our hearts though they be stones And weep our eyes to Diamonds Which being touch'd by deaths cold hand Congeal'd may on her Marble stand Any discourse let us detest For sighs and grones express us best But who is this that we in such A sorrow must lament so much Elizabeth Stanhope now you know Go mourn until you die for wo. 22. An Epitaph on my dear sister the Lady Boteler who deceased about the 34th year of her Age. Here lies the Lady Boteler who ran through Two States of Life and both of them so true And just were known to all that knew her that Her her survivers all may imitate The Virgin and the matrimonial life She blest with her example And so rife Her memory doth flourish that it can Not die while there on earth lives one good man Cokaine her own name was Elveston gave Her Life Tutburie death Ashbourn a Grave 33. To Lesbia I thank you Lesbia for your lips and smiles Your pretty courtship and your amorous Wiles Her breath was sweet as Venus bower of bliss Her joyes uncounterfeit and not remiss Her skin was smooth as calmest summers day And warm as are the temperate Noons in May Her mind was willing and her body laid In th' truest Garbe to tempt who durst invade There wanted nothing to complete our joyes Had not the house been liable to spies For I do value more a Ladies fame Then satisfaction of my highest flame Thus much in jest now to speak truth is time I 'm glad we parted and escap'd the Crime 24. An Epitaph on a great sleeper Here lies a great Sleeper as every body knows Whose Soul would not care if his body ne're rose The business of life he hated and chose To die for his ease for his better repose And 't is believ'd when the last trump doth wake him Had the Devil a bed he would pray him to take him 25. An Epitaph on a great Wencher Here lies a great Wencher and dead I dare swear For were he alive an whore would be here 26. To my honoured Friend Mr. Marmaduke Wyvel Sir I have ever honour'd you and do Owe all fair service I can pay to you But Friend I owe you more then this yet shall With all the speed that may be absolve all 27. An Epitaph on Mrs. M. H. Here lies a body whose soul went hence Fuller of Glory then Innocence What her life wanted to make high Her worth she wrought when she did die And now when all her fight is done Her Foes must say that she hath won Let her faults perish with her breath And none think of her life but death 28. To Mr. Nathaniel Hazard and his Wife on their Marriage Blest Pair Goodnight The Prologue now is done Your wooing's past and both of you are won The sweets of Love remain the Play 's behinde To yield delight to a long longing minde May all fair fortune crown your happy Lives You out-love husbands and she out-love wives May every night and day and day and night And hour and minute be to you delight May all my wishes prosper and may you Never repent y' are one and wish you two And for your Epilogue when you return To earth may all that know you for you mourn 29. To Corinna Why excellent Corinna do you throw Your gold away for durt to lay on snow For so compar'd unto your whiter skin The Linen is you veil your body in For like a Diamond taken from a rock You would appear unclouded of your smock 30. Of Lycoris Beauty and Honour are great names and they Here and hereafter differ many a way Beauty half Age destroyes and none can be Enamour'd on the fair'st Anatome Immaculate Honour easily disperses All Cloudes that hover o're Heroes Heirses Beauty triumpheth over humane kind And mighty Love enthrones in every mind Honour disdains base Actions and would have A noble life to be our Epitaph The fair Lycoris doth desire a long And flourishing Spring of beauty ever young Her many years to wear away in mirth And Heavens epitome to have on earth Her dayes in musick and in feasts
They the best pattern may be understood My sweet fair Cousins all the worlds four parts By Imitation of your rare deserts May grow in vertue you a mirrour be Where what they should be womankind may see 24. To my Vncle in law Mr. Richard Sutton When you and I meet Master Bancroft we Envy no mirth of any Company We all love cordially his Wit and Sack Make us enjoy our selves and nothing lack We Covetousness despise and cares let fly In Spanish smoke and consecrate to joy The hours we spend and when Sol leaves the skies Drink our next merry meeting and so rise 25. Of Ashborn Ashborn where many years our Cokaines name Hath been as Cambden tells us of some fame Though in the Peak thou stand'st thy fertile ground That like a Lover doth embrace thee round The Medows needes not envy which the Thames Saluteth in his passage with his streames The banks of Dove we think we do abuse If unto those compar'd of York-shire Ouse Our fruitful soil we do prefer to that Which holy Dee so long hath murmur'd at For not affording him a speedier way To pay his waves to the Virginian Sea Severnes and Trent's it envies not and thence We do conclude yields none preeminence If I commend too much 't is not a skill I would profess but onely my good will Yet other praises I to this could joyn If Betty Sheepy would draw better wine 22. To Mrs. Elizabeth Sheepy of Ashbourne Betty your wine is good and yet we know You may get better which we pray you do Our Countrey-wits would then leave clubbing In Darby-Ale and chang their penny-Pots groats Into fine Venice-glasses sparkling full Of generous Sack and be more bountiful Your Talbot then would rore and Poets sing That there did run the true Castalian spring Your husband honest Tom that 's sick it would Recover soon and make him live t' be old Get therefore Betty the best wine you may And we will style you our Mnemosyne 23. To my dear Cousin Germans Mrs Stanhope and Mrs. Isabella Hutchinson Sisters Let others praise Nottingham for the Site The River Trent and prospects of delight Mortimers Cave and now the ruine sad Of one of the best Castles England had I say that you two are the chiefest grace By living there that doth adorn the place 24. To Mr. John Young of the Bear in Powlesworth Though Puritans on in their grumblings go Be merry Master Young whil'st you are so What though their sensless zeal bark at your Bear If the Bandogs venture to come so near Keep such strong drink shall take them by the Crown And pluck the hypocrites of Piety down Making them do homage unto your sign And think it though an Image 't is divine 29. Of Men and Women Whilst Monuments of Brass and Marble stand Whilst Ships do grace the Seas and Cities Land And Men do walk upon the Terrene Ball So sure undoubtedly will women fall Yet let not this the females onely taxe Men fall on them that fall upon their backs 32. To Mr. Ralph Rawson lately fellow of Brasen Nose Colledge Though I of Cambridge was and far above Your Mother Oxford did my Cambridge love I those affections for your sake remove And above Cambridge now do Oxford love But I recant that change and say where e're You live that a third Academie's there You conquer humane passions and enshrine All vertues that the Schooles did e're define And to such height master all learned Arts That I know none your equal for all Parts Therefore what place soever you shall please To grace with your abode on Lands or Seas Although in frozen Thule I far above My Cambridge and your Oxford shall it love 31. To my most honoured Cousin the Lady Mary Fitzherbert of Tissington Madam the Peak is famous far and near For a great many wonders that are there Pooles-Hole the Devils Elden-hole the well That ebbes and flowes make Darbyshire excel The sandy hill that ever falls away And yet in bulk doth suffer no decay And Burtons Baith though in a village town Abroad our County give a fair renown These and the like do far and near invite Strangers and natives to delight their sight But these are Grotts Waters and Hills and such As we have one that doth exceed them much Your beauties and your many vertues speak You the chief Wonder that doth grace the Peak 32. Of Naples Naples the Romans old Parthenope Built under Hills upon the Midland-Sea Thou to Compania most delicious Part Of Italy the primest Glory art The Princes Dukes the Counts and Barons that In great abundance there do make their seat And flourish in all joyes this Life can grant To humane kind others I leave to vaunt Above all things that honour 't I preferre The all renowned Virgils Sepulchre And think that Virgil dead gives more renown Then all those Lords alive unto that Town 33. Of Wakes and May-Poles The Zelots here are grown so ignorant That they mistake Wakes for some ancient Saint They else would keep that Feast For though they all Would be cal'd Saints here none in heaven they call Besides they May-Poles hate with all their Soul I think because a Cardinal was a Pole 34. An Epitaph on Mr. Will. Davenport a Cousin-German of my wifes who dyed at Henbury his own house in Cheshire and lies buried by his wife at Dubridge in Darby-shire he being aged about 29. Here William Davenport lies and Stranger know That he was high in worth that lies so low He had a noble soul and liberal mind A generous courage and behaviour kind Sir Thomas Milwards daughter was his wife Whom he surviv'd and led a widowers life Our age was proud of him though in his prime Of years Death gave a Period to his time He left two Daughters and a spotless fame VVhich evermore shall wait vpon his Name 35. To Iustice Would be That you are vext their Wakes your neighbours keep They guess it is because you want your sleep I therefore wish that you your sleep would take That they without offence might keep their Wake 36. To Mrs Elizabeth Spencer Hail beauteous Virgin you whose glorious hair Justly with Ariadne's may compare VVhose eyes are Globes of purest fire whence flashes Th' enamour'd Nation soon would burn to ashes Did not your mighty modesty delight VVith their fair lids and veils to cloud their sight Your features are such wonders they can finde No Parallels throughout all VVomankinde How fine your hands are And how sweetly they Command the Lutes delicious Harmony Your Figure with your Form so right agrees That you are Natures exquisitest Piece Pretty ones we your feet must guess to be That toots are unto such a graceful Tree Whose leaves your clothes are conceal such things As would in Queens raise envy Flames in Kings Your own affection cause of fruit must prove VVhich yet none of our sex could ever move You are all fair without and sure
within Your fairer soul 's a glorious Cherubin He of mankind will lead the happiest life Whom you shall honour to become his wife 37. Of Pope Urban the Eight When I in Rome made some abode I oft Urban the Eight beheld and often laught To think how here our Zelots bawld him down And Preach'd him for the whore of Babylon He seem'd a gallant Prince and they that look May find him a fine Poet by his book Though bawds have sometimes beards none sure did see A Woman ere have such a beard as he But they were more mistaken in their speeches Tho virtuous women may whores wear no breeches Besides no wencher would bestow a doit To lye with such an whore a winters night 38. To those Preachers My friends I wish you would forbear your running After this whore and henceforth show your cunning Leaving this subject to no purpose vext To follow in the lieu of it your text 35. To Parissus Sir I conceive that you are in the List Of those that think the Pope is Antichrist Could you get one of them with child alone It should be you that made the true Pope Ioan. 40. To the Popes Princes you are have Dukedomes two or three I wish you would give one of them to me But that were to rob Peter to give Paul Or rather to rob both of them for Saul For I a Lay-man am and which is worse I think a Poet by my empty purse 41. To my wife on the birth of her daughter Isabella I in this second Daughter wish you joy Yet should have had more had it been a Boy Girles are by far more chargeable And when Boyes are grown up less care will serve for Men. You say a Nun you mean her such another I think you do intend as was her mother But whether she live Maid or prove a wife I wish her a long healthful happy life So I do leave you with your new Delight Till you and I do meet again at Night 42. Of our Ladie of Loretto I have been at Loretto and did there See the fam'd House which I 'le not argue here Do onely wish when I from Earth remove That I may see where she abides above 43. An Epitaph on Mr. Thomas Pilkington one of the Queens Musicians who dyed at Wolverhampton about the 35 year of his age and lies there buried Musicks prime Master of our Land this stone Covers For here lies matchless Pilkington He was the soul of Musick did contain All sorts of it in his harmonious brain A strange malignant Fever set a strife Between his soul and body ceas'd his Life So with his soul the soul of Musick fled Leaving that Science fainting though not dead Though oft his work was playing it was such As all Musicians cannot do so much With all their works In brief the richest Part The best Epitome of all that Art And choisest Musick that ere ravish'd ear Put out of tune by death lie buried here 44. To Zoilus Zoilus reports never a line I write Deserves t' appear before a wisemans sight Zoilus at this I nothing do repine But say thou being a Fool th' are fit for thine 45. An Epitaph on my dear sister Mrs. Lettice Armstrong who deceased about the 43 of her age and of Mrs. Lucy Cokain who dyed about the 34 of hers and lye both buried at Ashborn Lettice and Lucy here two sisters lye So constant to each others company Death could not part them long for four years space Reduc'd them both to this Sepulchral place There was no difference 'twixt them all their Life Save one liv'd single th' other was a Wife They both were virtuous left this world behind In hope the Glories of the next to finde Their Coffins lye so very close it doth Appear as if one Grave contain'd them both As their loves did unite them so the stone That both of them doth cover is but one And more to shew their mutual hearts it hath For both upon it but one Epitaph 46. To my Cousin Mr. Thomas Cokaine of Manciter You boast your Manciter was once a Town When here the Romans govern'd of Renown That Aderston from Ruines of it grew To be so spacious and so fair of view I yield unto your Truthes and adde one more Aderston drink makes Manciter so poor 47. Upon the Marriage of Mr. Edward Tilsly and Mrs. Anne Fleetwood So all your fears are past you both are sped And have no trouble but to go to bed Where what young married couples love the best I wish you a good night with little rest 48. Of Vesuvius I on the top have of Vesuvius been There laid me down upon my breast and seen Into the mighty Rupture whence the smoke Proceeds that often seems the skies to choke Torre de Guego din'd at which I found With that Hills scalding streams much burnt and drown'd As with their quarries Hills build Cities so They with their vomits them may overthrow 49. Of George Buchanon Buchanons oathes at Murries service were What he would say audacious George would swear Poets would lye I 've heard but never one That would forswear himself but Buchanon Yet he a famous Poet was what though Serpents may lurk in flowers of fairest show 50. To Mrs. Anne Adams my mothers Cosin-german Whilst you the generous Trenthams name enjoy'd And knew not what it was to be a Bride You in delicious Brussels wore away Most of your virgin-years beyond the Sea There you did thinke to lead a single life But thanks to Iohn that won you to his wife Who when you did return to England found That way to fix you on your native ground For you together live as if heaven meant To make you though not richest most content 51. To my highly honoured Cousin-German Mr. Arthur Sanhope son to the Earl of Chesterfield I do rejoyce at the respect you bear To Bretby by your choice of living there My Lord so great a house kept that by none Of all our Noblemen he was out-gone And you so neatly and gentilely live That all that know you Commendations give If my Lord Stanhope comes and you remove May you be follow'd by all good mens love That wheresoere you live there may be seen No change but alteration of the Scene 52. To Mris. Elizabeth Kendall my wives Niece Twycross I cannot choose but envy where Such ravishing Musick is and I not there You and your sister Frank Pegge every day So rarely sing that wondring Queens would stay To listen to your Layes from any sport And prize that while your house above a Court. 35. To Mr. Humphrey Mosley and Mr. Humphrey Robinson In the large book of Playes you late did print In Beaumonts and in Fletchers name why in 't Did you not justice give to each his due For Beaumont of those many writ in few And Massinger in other few the Main Being sole Issues of sweet Fletchers brain But how came I you ask so much to know
But must be secret in 't Aside Phy. My Lord. This Ladies Nurse my mother had a Sonne Older then the Lady Cleanthe is by seven years Whom she did love so extraordinarily That for his sake she foulely er'd from vertue She thought it was an easie thing for her If that their lives attained to those years To make your daughter wife unto her son Which is the cause she privily escap'd Pol. Most strange Phy. By chance I heard this of my brother who Told me against my mothers strict command What a great marriage he should have and that Cleanthe was the daughter of a Lord Your Honours child Whom all we thought but of a mean descent For she had won the country to believe That she did find her in the open field I pittying her hard chance did tell her all And promis'd her I would attend upon her Until she had her parents happy made With knowledge of her safety Cle. The rest I must relate Dear Sir be kind and if I have done ought You shall dislike pardon my first offence I was no sooner come to town but saw This noble Gentleman with whom so violently I fell in love that for his sake pray pardon me My own apparel I did lay away And did become his Page And when I did Disclose my self he kindly did requite me In brief we are contracted I did not well without you to do thus But your forgiveness Sir I cannot doubt He told me that there was a difference Between our families and therefore you If your consent was ask'd would never yield Iaq. Wood I were it 'h Cellar I care not for these drie and tedious tales Pol. Whether I should or no I cannot tell But I am glad that it hath chanced thus This match an ancient discord will conclude And may the Gods be favourable to it Car. Most Worthy Lord my faithful thankes Phy. Here also is a ring which by Your Father my Lord Falorus was given her When at the Font he for her answer'd She wo'rt about her neck when she was stolne Pol. I know it well and am confident Thou art my lost Cleanthe Be his wife And may the heavens make up the match most fortunate Carionil I now am glad I have A man so honour'd to my son in law Car. My Lord if that I can perform my will You never shall repent your daughters choice Pol. I do not doubt I shall Now I would know Why your death was reported Car. I was in love long which your eldest daughter The fair Lucora but could never win her Brought almost to despair I did assume The habit and colour of a Negro Pol. Then you was Tucapelo Car. I was indeed Knowing she had refus'd the greatest Marriages And many of the handsomest of the Kingdome I fully did believe she never would Like any man of this Complexion And therefore feign'd my self an Ethiopian But first gave out my death and that unto My self I had done violence for her Luc. Surely he will not do so unworthily As to make mention of my fond affection A side Car. But all could not prevail Luco I am glad he ends so A side Cario And therefore I desisted wholly which when Anclethe saw my sweet Cleanthe now She did disclose her self Polid. I do perceive the Heavens intended you Should reconcile our Families Iaq. Her 's love and love agen I wood some body would love me Luco My dear Sister you must not think me rude Because I do express my love so fully Poli. Be my Carionil All that â—â—e mine respect this Lady For I do intend to make her so Car. We are her Servants and most joyfully Shall kneel unto a Lady of her vertues Enter Philander and Rosinda Fal. What Lady 's that Car. She 's masked and I cannot guess Pol. Philander this Lady is thy Sister the lost Phi. Grow not to weak my body to contain Cleanthe My soul within thee at these joyes Fair Sister I am glad that I can name So beauteous a Lady as you are so For you the heavens be thanked Pol. Carionil's alive and must be styl'd your brother Cleanthe him hath chose Perfect thy joyes Philander when thou wilt And hear their Histories This Lady you must call mother Phil. But I must not Poli. How Phil. This here I will Dear mother now confirm my words Unmaskes Poli. Welcome to life Rosinda Thy face and beauty I do remember well But wherefore did you Raise the report of your untimely death Rosin That at a fitter time This give me leave To spend in joy My dear Cleanthe for I do believe Because thy father doth acknowledge thee Thou art Cleanthe my so long lost daughter Never was mothers heart so light I cannot Utter my joyes my tears must witness them To time I am indebted that he hath Spared my life untill I see thee safe Cle. I want expression But my life shall be A comment on my heart wherein you shall Perceive what your Cleanthe is Phil. Now you are mine fair Antiphila Ant. I will perform my promise Phil. Both your consents I begge Polid. How 's this Anti. I did engage my self That if I were not yours I would be his Pol. Then may the knot prove happy and continue A firm one while the Gods do lend you breath Ros It is my wish Pol. Was you her servant too Wife chide me in secrer I was forsworn Ros We all are frail Mortality may boast Of strength but many conclusions deny it Nen. Away I will have none of you I will not begge Pol. You shall not need I for his love and care Unto my daughter will give him means befitting A Gentleman which shall descend unto His posterity poverty shall not spoil his fortune Vandon 'T is nobly said If you do like him take him sister Ment. Now I 'm content Phyg My joy is great My thanks sweet Mistriss My Lord Polidacre I am your grateful though unworthiest servant Now Mistriss you shall know the policy I won your affections with my affections being setled so high and I poor I made my self Draculemion But your promise worthiest Lord hath now enriched me Iaq. O me Was you that merry fellow you have a parlous wit Phyg One thing I must crave of you Polid. You shall obtain Sir Phyg That you will pardon my Mother Polid. I do for your sake Luco Since I perceive you in the bounteous way Of granting Boons Sir I assume the boldness To become a Petitioner to you Polid. My dear Lucora freely ask for I Doubtlessely shall consent to thy demand Luco Seeing the gracious Heavens have blessed our house With the recovery of my long lost Sister And since the powers divine have link'd her heart To the affections of a noble Gentleman A marriage like to grace your honour'd Age With hopeful Nephews I humbly crave your licence To enjoy the freedom of a single life For I 've no inclination to become A subject unto Hymens glorious bondage Polid.