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The Lives of the Most Famous English Poets (1687)
by William Winstanley
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I shall only add an Epitaph made by this Noble Earl on Sir Anthony Denny, Knight (a Gentleman whom King Henry the 8th. greatly affected) and then come to speak of his Death.

Death and the King did as it were contend, Which of them two bare Denny greatest Love; The King to shew his Love, gan far extend, Did him advance his Betters far above: Near Place, much Wealth, great Honour eke him gave, To make it known what Power great Princes have.

But when Death came with his triumphant Gift, From worldly Cark he quit his wearied Ghost, Free from the Corps, and streight to Heaven it lift, Now deem that can who did for Denny most; The King gave Wealth, but fading and unsure, Death brought him Bliss that ever shall endure.

But to return, this Earl had together with his Learning, Wisdom, Fortitude, Munificence, and Affability; yet all these good and excellent parts were no protection against the King's Displeasure; for upon the 12th of December, the last of King Henry the 8th. he, with his Father Thomas Duke of Norfolk, upon certain surmises of Treason, were committed to the Tower of London, the one by Water, the other by Land; so that the one knew not of the others Apprehension: The 15th. day of January next following, he was arraigned at Guildhall, London, where the greatest matter alledged against him, was, for bearing certain Arms that were said belonged to the King and Prince; the bearing whereof he justified. To be short, (for so they were with him) he was found guilty by twelve common Juriars, had Judgment of Death; and upon the 19th day of the said Month (nine days before the Death of the said King Henry, was beheaded at Tower-Hill) He was at first interred in the Chappel of the Tower, and afterwards, in the Reign of King James, his Remainders of Ashes and Bones were removed to Framingham in Suffolk, by his second Son Henry Earl of Northampton, where in the Church they were interred, with this Epitaph;

Henrico Howardo, Thomae Secundi Ducis Norfolciae filio primogenito, Thomae tertij Patri, Comiti Surriae, & Georgiani Ordinis Equiti Aurato, immature Anno Salutis 1546, abrepto. Et Francisae Uxori ejus, filiae Johannis Comitis Oxoniae. Henricus Howardus Comes Northhamptoniae, filius secundo genitus, hoc supremum Pietatis in Parentes Monumentum posuit, A.D. 1614.

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Sir THOMAS WIAT the Elder.

This worthy Knight is termed by the Name of the Elder, to distinguish him from Sir Thomas Wiat the raiser of the Rebellion in the time of Queen Mary, and was born at Allington Castle in the County of Kent; which afterwards he repaired with most beautiful Buildings. He was a Person of great esteem and reputation in the Reign of King Henry the 8th. with whom, for his honesty and singular parts, he was in high favour. Which nevertheless he had like to have lost about the Business of Queen Anne Bullein; but by his Innocency, Industry and Prudence, he extricated himself.

He was one of admirable ingenuity, and truly answer'd his Anagram, Wiat, a Wit, the judicious Mr. Cambden saith he was.

Eques Auratus splendide doctus.

And though he be not taken notice of by Bale nor Pits, yet for his admirable Translation of David's Psalms into English Meeter, and other Poetical Writings, Leland forbears not to compare him to Dante and Petrarch, by giving him this large commendation.

Bella suum merito jactet Florentia Dantem Regia Petrarchae carmina Roma probat, His non inferior Patrio Sermone Viattus Eloquii secum qui decus omne tulit.

Let Florence fair her Dantes justly boast, And royal Rome her Petrarchs number'd feet, In English Wiat both of them doth coast: In whom all graceful eloquence doth meet.

The renowned Earl of Surrey in an Encomium upon his Translation of David's Psalms, thus writes of him,

What holy Grave, what worthy Sepulcher, To Wiat's Psalms shall Christians purchase then?

And afterward, upon his death, the said Earl writeth thus:

What Vertues rare were temper'd in thy brest? Honour that England such a Jewel bred, And kiss the ground whereas thy Corps did rest, &c.

This worthy Knight being sent Ambassador by King Henry the Eighth to Charles the Fifth Emperor, then residing in Spain, died of the Pestilence in the West Country, before he could take Shipping, Anno 1541.

* * * * *



Dr. CHRISTOPHER TYE.

In the writing this Doctors Life, we shall principally make use for Directions of Mr. Fuller, in his England's Worthies, fol. 244. He flourished (saith he) in the Reign of King Henry the Eighth, and King Edward the Sixth, to whom he was one of the Gentlemen of their Chappel, and probably the Organist. Musick, which received a grievous wound in England at the dissolution of Abbeys, was much beholding to him for her recovery; such was his excellent Skill and Piety, that he kept it up in Credit at Court, and in all Cathedrals during his life: He translated the Acts of the Apostles into Verse, and let us take a tast his Poetry.

In the former Treatise to thee, dear friend Theophilus, I have written the veritie of the Lord Christ Jesus,

Which he to do and eke to teach, began until the day; In which the Spirit up did him fetch to dwell above for aye.

After that he had power to do even by the Holy Ghost: Commandements then he gave unto his chosen least and most.

To whom also himself did shew from death thus to revive; By tokens plain unto his few even forty days alive.

Speaking of God's kingdom with heart chusing together them, Commanding them not to depart from that Jerusalem.

But still to wait on the promise of his Father the Lord, Of which you have heard me e're this unto you make record.

Pass we now (saith he) from his Poetry, (being Musick in words) to his Musick, (being Poetry in sounds) who set an excellent Composition of Musick in four parts, to the several Chapters of his aforenamed Poetry, dedicating the same to King Edward the Sixth, a little before his death, and Printed it Anno Dom. 1353. He also did Compose many excellent Services and Anthems of four and five parts, which were used in Cathedrals many years after his death, the certain date whereof we cannot attain to.

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JOHN LELAND.

This famous Antiquary, Mr. John Leland, flourish'd in the year 1546. about the beginning of the Reign of King Edward the Sixth, and was born by most probable conjecture at London. He wrote, among many other Volumes, several Books of Epigrams, his Cigneo Cantio, a Genethliac of Prince Edward, Naniae upon the death of Sir Thomas Wiat, out of which we shall present you with these Verses:

Transtulit in nostram Davidis carmina linguam, Et numeros magna reddidit arte pares. Non morietur opus tersum, spectabile sacrum, Clarior hac fama parte Viattus erit. Una dies geminos Phoenices non dedit orbi, Mors erit unius, vita sed alterius. Rara avis in terris confectus morte Viattus, Houerdum haeredem scripserat ante suum. Dicere nemo potest recte periisse Viattum, Ingenii cujus tot monimenta vigent.

He wrote also several other things both in Prose and Verse, to his great fame and commendation.

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THOMAS CHURCHYARD.

Thomas Churchyard was born in the Town of Shrewsbury, as himself doth affirm in his Book made in Verse of the Worthiness of Wales, taking Shropshire within the compass, (to use his own Expression) Wales the Park, and the Marches the Pale thereof. He was one equally addicted to Arts and Arms, serving under that renowned Captain Sir William Drury, in a rode he made into Scotland, as also under several other Commanders beyond Sea, as he declares in his Tragical Discourse of the Unhappy Mans Life, saying,

Full thirty years both Court and Wars I tryde, And still I sought acquaintance with the best, And served the State, and did such hap abide As might befal, and Fortune sent the rest, When Drum did sound, I was a Soldier prest To Sea or Land, as Princes quarrel stood, And for the same full oft I lost my blood.

But it seems he got little by the Wars but blows, as he declares himself a little after.

But God he knows, my gain was small I weene, For though I did my credit still encrease, I got no wealth by wars, ne yet by peace.

Yet it seems he was born of wealthy friends, and had an Estate left unto him, as in the same Work he doth declare.

So born I was to House and Land by right, But in a Bag to Court I brought the same, From Shrewsbury-Town, a seat of ancient fame.

Some conceive him to be as much beneath a Poet as above a Rymer, yet who so shall consider the time he wrote in, viz. the beginning of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, shall find his Verses to go abreast with the best of that Age. His Works, such as I have seen and have now in custody, are as followeth:

The Siege of Leith. A Farewel to the World. A feigned Fancy of the Spider and the Goat. A doleful Discourse of a Lady and a Knight. The Road into Scotland, by Sir William Drury. Sir Simon Burley's Tragedy. A Tragical Discourse of the Vnhappy Mans Life. A Discourse of Vertue. Churchyard's Dream. A Tale of a Fryar and a Shoomaker's wife. The Siege of Edenborough-Castle. Queen Elizabeth's Reception into Bristol.

These Twelve several Treatises he bound together, calling them Church-yard's Chips, and dedicated them to Sir Christopher Hatton. He also wrote the Falls of Shore's Wife and of Cardinal Wolsey; which are inserted into the Book of the Mirrour for Magistrates. Thus, like a stone, did he trundle about, but never gather'd any Moss, dying but poor, as may be seen by his Epitaph in Mr. Cambden's Remains, which runs thus;

Come Alecto, lend me thy Torch, To find a Church-yard in a Church-porch: Poverty and Poetry his Tomb doth enclose, Wherefore good Neighbours be merry in prose.

His death, according to the most probable conjecture, may be presumed about the eleventh year of the Queen's Reign, Anno Dom. 1570.

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JOHN HIGGINS.

John Higgins was one of the chief of them who compiled the History of the Mirrour of Magistrates, associated with Mr. Baldwin, Mr. Ferrers, Thomas Churchyard, and several others, of which Book Sir Philip Sidney thus writes in his Defence of Poesie, I account the Mirrour of Magistrates meetly furnished of beautiful parts. These Commendations coming from so worthy a person, our Higgins having so principal a share therein, deserves a principal part of the praise. And how well his deservings were, take an essay of his Poetry in his induction to the Book.

When Summer sweet with all her pleasures past, And leaves began to leave the shady tree, The Winter cold encreased on full fast, And time of year to sadness moved me: For moisty blasts not half so mirthful be, As sweet Aurora brings in Spring-time fair, Our joys they dim as Winter damps the air.

The Nights began to grow to length apace, Sir Phoebus to th'Antartique 'gan to fare: From Libra's lance, to the Crab he took his race Beneath the Line, to lend of light a share. For then with us the days more darkish are, More short, cold, moist, and stormy, cloudy, clit, For sadness more than mirths or pleasures fit.

Devising then what Books were best to read, Both for that time, and sentence grave also, For conference of friend to stand in stead, When I my faithful friend was parted fro; I gat me strait the Printers shops unto, To seek some Work of price I surely ment, That might alone my careful mind content.

And then he declareth how there he found the first part of this Mirrour for Magistrates, which yet took beginning from the time of King Richard the Second; But he knowing many Examples of famous persons before William the Conquerour, which were wholly omitted, he set upon the Work, and beginning from Brute, continued it to Aurelius Bassianus Caracalla Emperour of Rome, about the year of Christ 209. shewing in his Writings a great deal of Wisdom and Learning. He flourished about the beginning of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth.

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ABRAHAM FRAUNCE.

This Abraham Fraunce, a Versifier, about the same time with John Higgins, was one who imitated Latine measure in English Verse, writing a Pastoral, called the Countess of Pembroke's Ivy-church, and some other things in Hexameter, some also in Hexameter and Pentameter; He also wrote the Countess of Pembroke's Emanuel, containing the Nativity, Passion, Burial, and Resurrection of Christ, together with certain Psalms of David, all in English Hexameters. Nor was he altogether singular in this way of writing, for Sir Philip Sidney in the Pastoral Interludes of his Arcadia, uses not only these, but all other sorts of Latine measure, in which no wonder he is followed by so few, since they neither become the English, nor any other modern Language.

He began also the Translation of Heliodorus his AEthiopick History, in the same kind of Verse, of which, to give the Reader the better divertisement, we shall present you with a tast.

As soon as Sun-beams could once peep out fro the Mountains, And by the dawn of day had somewhat lightned Olympus, Men, whose lust was law, whose life was still to be lusting, Whose thriving thieving, convey'd themselves to an hill top, That stretched forward to the Heracleotica entry And mouth of Nylus; looking thence down to the main sea For sea-faring men; but seeing none to be sailing, They knew 'twas bootless to be looking there for a booty: So that strait fro the sea they cast their eyes to the sea-shore; Where they saw, that a Ship very strangely without any ship man, Lay then alone at road, with Cables ty'd to the main-land, And yet full fraighted, which they, though far, fro the hill-top, Easily might perceive by the water drawn to the deck-boards, &c.

His Ivy-Church he dedicated to the Countess of Pembroke, in which he much vindicated his manner of writing, as no Verse fitter for it then that; he also dedicated his Emanuel to her, which being but two lines take as followeth:

Mary the best Mother sends her best Babe to a Mary: Lord to a Ladies sight, and Christ to a Christian.

When he died, we cannot find, but suppose it to be about the former part of Queen Elizabeth's Reign.

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WILLIAM WARNER.

William Warner, one of principal esteem in his time, was chiefly famous for his Albion's England, which he wrote in the old-fashioned kind of seven-footed Verse, which yet sometimes is in use, though in different manner, that is to say, divided into two: He wrote also several Books in prose, as he himself witnesseth, in his Epistle to the Reader, but (as we said before) his Albion's England was the chiefest, which he deduced from the time of Noah, beginning thus:

I tell of things done long ago, of many things in few: And chiefly of this Clime of ours, the accidents pursue. Thou high director of the same, assist mine artless Pen, To write the Jests of Brutons stout, and Arts of English-men.

From thence he proceeds to the peopling of the Earth by the Sons of Noah, intermixing therein much variety of Matter, not only pleasant, but profitable for the Readers understanding of what was delivered by the ancient Poets, bringing his Matter succinctly to the Siege of Troy, and from thence to the coming of Brute into this Island; and so, coming down along the chiefest matters, touched of our British Historians, to the Conquest of England by Duke William, and from him the Affairs of the Land to the beginning of Queen Elizabeth; where he concludeth thus,

Elizabeth by peace, by war, for majesty, for mild, Enrich'd, fear'd, honour'd, lov'd, but (loe) unreconcil'd, The Muses check my saucy Pen, for enterprising her, In duly praising whom, themselves, even Arts themselves might err. Phoebus I am, not Phaeton, presumptuously to ask What, shouldst thou give, I could not guide; give not me thy task, For, as thou art Apollo too, our mighty subjects threats A non plus to thy double power: Vel volo, vel nollem.

I might add several more of his Verses, to shew the worth of his Pen, but the Book being indifferent common, having received several Impressions, I shall refer the Reader, for his further satisfaction, to the Book itself.

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THOMAS TUSSER.

Thomas Tusser (a person well known by his Book of Husbandry) was born at Rinen-hall in Essex, of an ancient Family, but now extinct; where, when but young, his Father, designing him for a Singing-man, put him to Wallingford-School, where how his Misfortunes began in the World, take from his own Pen.

O painful time, for every crime, What toosed ears, like baited Bears, What bobbed lips, what yerks, what nips, What hellish toys? What Robes so bare, what Colledge-fare? What Bread how stale, what penny Ale? Then Wallingford, how wer't thou abhorr'd, Of silly boys?

From thence he was sent to learn Musick at Pauls with one John Redford, an excellent Musician; where, having attained some skill in that Art, he was afterwards sent to Eaton-School, to learn the Latine Tongue, where, how his Miseries encreas'd, let himself speak.

From Pauls I went, to Eaton sent, To learn straightways the Latine phrase, Where fifty three stripes given to me, At once I had, For fault but small, or none at all, It came to pass thus beat I was, See Udal, see, the mercy of thee To me poor Lad.

Having attained to some perfection in the Latine Tongue, he was sent to Trinity-Hall in Cambridge, where he had not continued long, but he was vexed with extream sickness, whereupon he left the University, and betook himself to Court, and lived for a while under the Lord Paget, in King Edward the Sixth's days; when, the Lords falling at dissention, he left the Court, and went to Suffolk, where he married his first Wife, and took a Farm at Ratwade in that County, where he first devised his Book of Husbandry, but his Wife not having her health there, he removed from thence to Ipswich and soon after buried her.

Not long after he married again to one Mrs. Amy Moon, upon whose Name he thus versified:

I chanced soon to find a Moon, Of chearful hue; Which well and fine me thought did shine, And never change, a thing most strange, Yet keep in sight her course aright, And compass true.

Being thus married he betook himself again to Husbandry, and hired a Farm, called Diram Cell, and there he had not lived long, but his Landlord died, and his Executors falling at variance, and now one troubled him, and then another, whereupon he left Diram, and went to Norwich, turning a Singing-man under Mr. Salisbury, the Dean thereof; There he was troubled with a Dissury, so that in a 138 Hours he never made a drop of Water. Next he hired a Parsonage at Fairstead in Essex, but growing weary of that he returned again to London, where he had not lived long, but the Pestilence raging there, he retired to Cambridge: Thus did he roul about from place to place, but, like Sisiphus stone, could gather no Moss whithersoever he went: He was successive a Musician, Schoolmaster, Servingman, Husbandman, Grasier, Poet, more skilful in all, than thriving in any Vocation. He traded at large in Oxen, Sheep, Dairies, Grain of all kinds, to no profit. He spread his Bread with all sorts of Butter, yet none would stick thereon. So that he might say with the Poet,

Monitis sum minor ipse meis.

None being better at the Theory, or worse at the Practice of Husbandry, and may be fitly match'd with Thomas Churchyard, they being mark'd alike in their Poetical parts, living in the same time, and statur'd both alike in their Estates, and that low enough in all reason. He died in London, Anno Dom. 1580. and was buried at St. Mildred's-Church in the Poultrey, with this Epitaph:

Here THOMAS TUSSER, clad in earth doth lie, That sometime made the Points of Husbandry: By him then learn thou may'st, here learn we must, When all is done, we sleep, and turn to dust: And yet, through Christ, to Heaven we hope to go, Who reads his Books, shall find his Faith was so.

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THOMAS STORER.

Thomas Storer was a great writer of Sonnets, Madrigals, and Pastoral Airs, in the beginning of Q. Elizabeth's Reign, and no doubt was highly esteemed in those days, of which we have an account of some of them in an old Book, called England's Hellicon. This kind of writing was of great esteem in those days, and much imitated by Thomas Watson, Bartholomew Yong, Dr. Lodge, and several others. What time he died is to me unknown.

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THOMAS LODGE.

Thomas Lodge, a Doctor of Physick, flourish'd also about the beginning of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth; He was also an eminent Writer of Pastoral Songs, Odes, and Madrigals. This following Sonnet is said to be of his composing.

If I must die, O let me chuse my Death: Suck out my Soul with Kisses, cruel Maid! In thy Breasts Crystal Balls embalm my Breath, Dole it all out in sighs when I am laid; Thy Lips on mine like Cupping-glasses clasp; Let our Tongues meet, and strive as they would sting: Crush out my Wind with one straight girting Grasp, Stabs on my Heart keep time whilst thou dost sing. Thy Eyes like searing-Irons burn out mine; In thy fair Tresses stifle me outright: Like Circes, change me to a loathsom Swine, So I may live for ever in thy sight. Into Heavens Joys can none profoundly see, Except that first they meditate on thee.

Contemporary with Dr. Lodge, were several others, who all of them wrote in the same strain, as George Gascoigne, Tho. Hudson, John Markham, Tho. Achely, John Weever, Chr. Midleton, George Turbervile, Henry Constable, Sir Edward Dyer, Charles Fitz Geoffry. Of these George Gascoigne wrote not only Sonnets, Odes and Madrigals, but also something to the Stage: as his Supposes, a Comedy; Glass of Government, a Tragi-Comedy; and Jocasta, a Tragedy.

But to return to Dr. Lodge; we shall only add one Sonnet more, taken out of his Euphues Golden Legacy, and so proceed to others.

Of all chaste Birds, the Phoenix doth excel; Of all strong Beasts, the Lion bears the Bell: Of all sweet Flowers, the Rose doth sweetest smell; Of all fair Maids, my Rosalind is fairest. Of all pure Metals, Gold is only purest; Of all high Trees, the Pine hath highest Crest; Of all soft Sweets, I like my Mistress best: Of all chaste Thoughts my Mistress Thoughts are rarest. Of all proud Birds, the Eagle pleaseth Jove, Of pretty Fowls, kind Venus likes the Dove: Of Trees, Minerva doth the Olive love, Of all sweet Nymphs, I honour Rosalinde, Of all her Gifts, her Wisdom pleaseth most: Of all her Graces, Virtue she doth boast; For all the Gifts, my Life and Joy is lost, If Rosalinde prove cruel and unkind.

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ROBERT GREENE.

Robert Greene (that great Friend to the Printers by his many Impressions of numerous Books) was by Birth a Gentleman, and sent to study in the University of Cambridge; where he proceeded Master of Art therein. He had in his time sipped of the Fountain of Hellicon, but drank deeper Draughts of Sack, that Helliconian Liquor, whereby he beggar'd his Purse to enrich his Fancy; writing much against Viciousness, but too vicious in his Life. He had to his Wife a Virtuous Gentlewoman, whom yet he forsook, and betook himself to a high course of Living; to maintain which, he made his Pen mercenary, making his Name very famous for several Books which he wrote, very much taking in his time, and in indifferent repute amongst the vulgar at this present; of which, those that I have seen, are as followeth) Euphues his Censure to Philautus; Tullies Love, Philomela, The Lady Fitz-waters Nightingale, A Quip for an upstart Courtier, the History of Dorastus and Fawnia, Green's never too late, first and second Part; Green's Arcadia, Green his Farewell to Folly, Greene's Groats-worth of Wit, &c. He was also an Associate with Dr. Lodge in writing of several Comedies; namely, The Laws of Nature; Lady Alimony; Liberality and Prodigality; and a Masque called Luminalia; besides which, he wrote alone the Comedies of Fryer Bacon, and fair Emme.

But notwithstanding by these his Writings he got much Money, yet was it not sufficient to maintain his Prodigality, but that before his death he fell into extream Poverty, when his Friends, (like Leaves to Trees in the Summer of Prosperity) fell from him in his Winter of Adversity: of which he was very sensible, and heartily repented of his ill passed Life, especially of the wrongs he had done to his Wife; which he declared in a Letter written to her, and found with his Book of A Groatsworth of Wit, after his Death, containing these Words;

The Remembrance of many Wrongs offered Thee and thy unreproved Vertues, add greater sorrow to my miserable State than I can utter, or thou conceive; neither is it lessened by consideration of thy Absence (though Shame would let me hardly behold thy Face) but exceedingly aggravated, for that I cannot (as I ought) to thy own self reconcile my self, that thou mightest witness my inward Wo at this instan Green, and may grow strait, if he be carefully tended; otherwise apt enough (I fear me) to follow his Fathers Folly. That I have offended thee highly, I know; that thou canst forget my Injuries, I hardly believe; yet I perswade my self, if thou sawest my wretched estate, thou couldst not but lament it: Nay, certainly I know thou wouldst. All my wrongs muster themselves about me, and every Evil at once plagues me: For my Contempt of God, I am contemned of Men; for my swearing and fors

Thy Repentant Husband

for his Disloyalty,

Robert Greene.

In a Comedy called Green's Tu quoque, written by John Cooke, I find these Verses made upon his Death;

How fast bleak Autumn changeth Flora's Die; What yesterday was Greene, now's sear and dry.

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THOMAS NASH.

Thomas Nash was also a Gentleman born, and bred up in the University of Cambridge; a man of a quick apprehension and Satyrick Pen: One of his first Books he wrote was entituled Pierce Penniless his Supplication to the Devil, wherein he had some Reflections upon the Parentage of Dr. Harvey, his Father being a Rope-maker of Saffron-Walden: This begot high Contests betwixt the Doctor and him, so that it became to be a well known Pen-Combate. Amongst other Books which Mr. Nash wrote against him, one was entituled, Have with ye to Saffron-Walden; and another called Four Letters confuted; in which last he concludes with this Sonnet;

Were there no Wars, poor men should have no Peace; Uncessant Wars with Wasps and Drones I cry: He that begins oft knows not how to cease; He hath begun; He follow till I die. Ile hear no Truce, Wrong gets no Grave in me: Abuse pell-mell encounter with abuse; Write he again, Ile write eternally; Who feeds Revenge, hath found an endless Muse. If Death ere made his black Dart of a Pen, My Pen his special Bayly shall become: Somewhat Ile be reputed of 'mongst men, By striking of this Dunce or dead or dumb: Await the World the Tragedy of Wrath, What next I paint shall tread no common Path.

It seems he had a Poetical Purse as well as a Poetical Brain, being much straightned in the Gifts of Fortune; as he exclaims in his Pierce Penniless.

Why is't damnation to despair and die, When Life is my true happiness disease? My Soul, my Soul, thy Safety makes me fly The faulty Means that might my Pain appease. Divines and dying men may talk of Hell, But in my Heart her several Torments dwell.

Ah worthless Wit, to train me to this Wo! Deceitful Arts that nourish Discontent, Ill thrive the Folly that bewitch'd me so! Vain Thoughts adieu; for now I will repent: And yet my Wants persuade me to proceed, Since none takes pity of a Scholar's need.

Forgive me, God, although I curse my Birth, And ban the Ayr wherein I breath a wretch, Since Misery hath daunted all my Mirth, And I am quite undone through Promise breach. Oh Friends! no Friends, that then ungently frown, When changing Fortune calls us headlong down.

Without redress complains my careless Verse, And Midas ears relent not at my mone; In some far Land will I my griefs rehearse, 'Mongst them that will be mov'd, when I shall grone. England adieu, the Soil that brought me forth; Adieu unkind, where Skill is nothing worth.

He wrote moreover a witty Poem, entituled, The White Herring and the Red; and two Comedies, the one called Summer's last Will and Testament, and See me and see me not.

* * * * *



Sir PHILIP SIDNEY.

Sir Philip Sidney, the glory of the English Nation in his time, and pattern of true Nobility, in whom the Graces and Muses had their domestical habitations, equally addicted both to Arts and Arms, though more fortunate in the one than in the other. Son to Sir Henry Sidney, thrice Lord Deputy of Ireland, and Sisters Son to Robert Earl of Leicester; Bred in Christ's Church in Oxford, (Cambridge being nevertheless so happy to have a Colledge of his name) where he so profited in the Arts and Liberal Sciences, that after an incredible proficiency in all the Species of Learning, he left the Academical Life, for that of the Court, invited thither by his Uncle, the Earl of Leicester, that great Favourite of Queen Elizabeth. Here he so profited, that he became the glorious Star of his Family, a lively Pattern of Vertue, and the lovely Joy of all the learned sort. These his Parts so indeared him to Queen Elizabeth, that she sent him upon an Embassy to the Emperor of Germany at Vienna, which he discharged to his own Honour, and her Approbation. Yea, his Fame was so renowned throughout all Christendom, that (as it is commonly reported) he was in election for the Kingdom of Poland, though the Author of his Life, printed before his Arcadia, doth doubt of the truth of it, however it was not above his deserts.

During his abode at the Court, at his spare hours he composed that incomparable Romance, entituled, The Arcadia, which he dedicated to his Sister the Countess of Pembroke. A Book (saith Dr. Heylin) which, besides its excellent Language, rare Contrivances, and delectable Stories, hath in it all the strains of Poesie, comprehendeth the whole art of speaking, and to them who can discern and will observe, affordeth notable Rules of Demeanour, both private and publick; and though some men, sharp-witted only in speaking evil, have depraved the Book, as the occasion that many precious hours are spent no better, they consider not that the ready way to make the minds of Youth grow awry, is to lace them too hard, by denying them just and due liberty. Surely (saith one) the Soul deprived of lawful delights, will, in way of revenge, (to enlarge its self out of prison) invade and attempt unlawful pleasures. Let such be condemned always to eat their meat with no other sawce, but their own appetite, who deprive themselves and others of those sallies into lawful Recreations, whereof no less plenty than variety is afforded in this Arcadia.

One writes, that Sir Philip Sidney in the extream agony of his wounds, so terrible the sence of death is, requested the dearest friend he had, to burn his Arcadia; what promise his friend returned herein is uncertain; but if he brake his word to be faithful to the publick good, posterity herein hath less cause to censure him for being guilty of such a meritorious offence, wherewith he hath obliged so many ages. Hereupon thus writeth the British Epigramatist.

Ipse tuam morient sede conjuge teste jubebas, Arcadium saevis ignibus esse cibum; Si meruit mortem, quia flammam accendit amoris Mergi, non uri debuit iste liber. In Librum quaecunque cadat sententia nulla, Debuit ingenium morte perire tuum.

In serious thoughts of Death 'twas thy desire This sportful Book should be condemn'd with Fire: If so, because it doth intend Love-matters, It rather should be quench'd or drown'd i' th waters. However doom'd the Book, the memory Of thy immortal Wit will never die.

He wrote also besides his Arcadia, several other Works; namely, A Defence of Poesie, a Book entituled Astrophel and Stella, with divers Songs and Sonnets in praise of his Lady, whom he celebrated under that bright Name; whom afterwards he married, that Paragon of Nature, Sir Francis Walsingham's Daughter, who impoverished himself to enrich the State; from whom he expected no more than what was above all Portions, a beautiful Wife, and a virtuous Daughter.

He also translated part of that excellent Treatise of Philip Morney du Plessis, of the Truth of Religion; and no doubt had written many other excellent Works, had not the Lamp of his Life been extinguish'd too soon; the manner whereof take as followeth:

His Unkle Robert Dudley Earl of Leicester (a man almost as much hated as his Nephew was loved) was sent over into the Low-Countries, with a well appointed Army, and large Commission, to defend the United Provinces against the Spanish Cruelty. Under him went Sir Philip Sidney, who had the Command of the cautionary Town of Flushing, and Castle of Ramekius, a Trust which he so faithfully discharged, that he turned the Envy of the Dutch Townsmen into Affection and Admiration. Not long after, some Service was to be performed nigh Zutphen in Gueiderland, where the English, through false intelligence, were mistaken in the strength of the Enemy. Sir Philip is employed next to the Chief in that Expedition; which he so discharged, that it is questionable whether his Wisdom, Industry or Valour may challenge to it self the greatest praise of the Action. And now when the triumphant Lawrels were ready to Crown his Brows, the English so near the Victory, that they touched it, ready to lay hold upon it, he was unfortunately shot in the Thigh, which is the Rendez-vouz of Nerves and Sinews, which caused a Feaver, that proved so mortal, that five and twenty days after he died of the same; the Night of whose Death was the Noon of his Age, and the exceeding Loss of Christendom.

His Body was conveyed into England, and most honourably interred in the Church of St. Paul in London; over which was fixed this Epitaph:

England, Netherland, the Heavens, and the Arts, All Souldiers, and the World have made fix parts Of the Noble Sidney; for none will suppose That a small heap of Stones can Sidney enclose: England hath his Body, for she it bred; Netherland his Blood, in her defence shed; The Heavens his Soul, the Arts his Fame; All Soldiers the Grief, the World his good Name.

To recite the Commendations given him by several Authors, would of it self require a Volume; to rehearse some few not unpleasing to the Reader. The reverend Cambden writes thus; This is that Sidney, whom, as God's will was, he should be therefore born into the world even to shew unto our Age a Sample of ancient Virtues. Doctor Heylin in his Cosmography calleth him, That gallant Gentleman of whom he cannot but make honourable mention. Mr. Fuller in his Worthies thus writes of him, His homebred Abilities perfected by Travel with foreign accomplishments, and a sweet Nature, set a gloss upon both. Stow in his Annals, calleth him, a most valiant and towardly Gentleman. Speed in his Chronicle, That worthy Gentleman in whom were compleat all Virtues and Valours that could be expected to reside in man: And Sir Richard Baker gives him this Character, A man of so many excellent parts of Art and Nature, of Valour and Learning, of Wit and Magnanimity, that as he had equalled all those of former Ages, so the future will hardly be able to equal him.

Nor was this Poet forgotten by the Poets; who offered whole Hecatombs of Verses in his praise. Hear first that Kingly Poet, or Poetical King, King James the first, late Monarch of Great Britain, who thus writes,

Armipotens cui jus in fortia pectora Mayors, Tu Dea quae cerebrum perrumpere digna totantis, Tuque adeo bijugae proles Latonia rupis Gloria, decidua cingunt quam collibus artes, Duc tecum, & querelis Sidnaei funera voce Plangite; nam vester fuerat Sidnaeus alumnus, Quid genus, & proavos, & spem, floremque juventae, Immaturo obituraptum sine retexo? Heu frustra queror? heu rapuit Mors omnia secum? Et nihil ex tanto nunc est Heroe superstes, Praeterquam Decus & Nomen virtute paratum, Doctaque Sidneas testantia Carmina laudes.

Thus translated by the said King:

Thou mighty Mars, the Lord of Soldiers brave, And thou Mirnerve, that dost in wit excel, And thou Apollo, who dost knowledge have Of every Art that from Parnassus fell, With all your Sisters that thereon do dwell, Lament for him who duly serv'd you all: Whom in you wisely all your Arts did mell, Bewail (I say) his unexpected fall, I need not in remembrance for to call His Race, his Youth, the hope had of him ay, Since that in him doth cruel Death appall Both Manhood, Wit and Learning every way: But yet he doth in bed of Honour rest, And evermore of him shall live the best.

And in another place thus;

When Venus sad saw Philip Sidney slain, She wept, supposing Mars that he had been, From Fingers Rings, and from her Neck the Chain She pluckt away, as if Mars ne'er again She meant to please, in that form he was in, Dead, and yet could a Goddess thus beguile, What had he done if he had liv'd this while?

These Commendations given him by so learned a Prince, made Mr. Alexander Nevil thus to write;

Harps others Praise, a Scepter his doth sing, Of Crowned Poet, and of Laureat King.

Divine Du Bartus, speaking of the most Learned of the English Nation, reckoneth him as one of the chief, in these words;

And (world mourn'd) Sidney, warbling to the Thames, His Swan-like Tunes, so courts her coy proud Streams, That (all with child with Fame) his Fame they bear To Thetis Lap, and Thetis every where.

Sir John Harrington in his Epigrams thus;

If that be true the latter Proverb says, Laudari a Laudatis is most Praise, Sidney, thy Works in Fames Books are enroll'd By Princes Pens, which have thy Works extoll'd, Whereby thy Name shall dure to endless days.

Mr. Owen, the Brittish Epigrammatist thus sets him forth:

Thou writ'st things worthy reading, and didst do Things worthy writing too. Thy Arts thy Valour show, And by thy Works we do thy Learning know.

I shall conclude all with these excellent Verses made by himself a little before his Death;

It is not I that die, I do but leave an Inn, Where harbour'd was with me all filthy Sin: It is not I that die, I do but now begin Into eternal Joy by Faith to enter in, Why mourn you then my Parents, Friends and Kin? Lament you when I lose, not when I win.

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Sir FULK GREVIL.

Next to Sir Philip Sidney, we shall add his great Friend and Associate, Sir Fulk Grevil, Lord Brook, one very eminent both for Arts and Arms; to which the genius of that time did mightily invite active Spirits. This Noble Person, for the great love he bore to Sir Philip Sidney, wrote his Life. He wrote several other Works both in Prose and Verse, some of which were Dramatick, as his Tragedies of Alaham, Mustapha, and Marcus Tallius Cicero, and others, commonly of a Political Subject; amongst which, a Posthume Work, not publish'd till within a few years, being a two-fold Treatise, the first of Monarchy, the second of Religion, in all which is observable a close mysterious and sententious way of Writing, without much regard to Elegancy of Stile, or smoothness of Verse. Another Posthume Book is also fathered upon him; namely, The Five Years of King James, or the Condition of the State of England, and the Relation it had to other Provinces, Printed in the Year 1643. But of this last Work many people are doubtful.

Now for his Abilities in the Exercise of Arms, take this instance: At such time when the French Ambassadours came over into England, to Negotiate a Marriage between the Duke of Anjou, and Queen Elizabeth, for their better entertainment, Solemn Justs were proclaimed, where the Earl of Arundel, Frederick Lord Windsor, Sir Philip Sidney, and he, were chief Challengers against all comers; in which Challenge he behaved himself so gallantly, that he won the reputation of a most valiant Knight.

Thus you see, that though Ease be the Nurse of Poesie, the Muses are also Companions to Mars, as may be exemplified in the Lives of the Earl of Surrey, Sir Philip Sidney, and this Sir Falk Grevil.

I shall only add a word or two of his death, Which was as sad as lamentable. He kept a discontented servant, who conceiving his deserts, not soon or well enough rewarded, wounded him mortally; and then (to save the Law a labour) killed himself. Verifying therein the observation, That there is none who never so much despiseth his own life, but yet is master of another mans.

This ingenious Gentleman, (in whose person shined all true Vertue and high Nobility) as he was a great friend to learning himself, so was he a great favourer of learning in others, witness his liberality to Mr. Speed the Chronologer, when finding his wide Soul was stuffed with too narrow an Occupation, gave it enlargement, as the said Author doth ingeniously confess in his description of Warwickshire, Whose Merits (saith he) to me-ward, I do acknowledge, in setting this hand free from the daily employments of a Manual Trade, and giving it full liberty thus to express the inclination of my mind, himself being the Procurer of my present Estate.

He lieth interred in Warwick Church, under a Monument of Black and White Marble, wherein he is styled, Servant to Queen Elizabeth, Counsellor to King James, and Friend to Sir Philp Sidney. He died Anno 16—. without Issue, save only those of his Brain, which will make his Name to live, when others Issue they may fail them.

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Mr. EDMOND SPENSER.

This our Famous Poet, Mr. Edmond Spenser, was born in the City of London, and brought up in Pembroke-Hall in Cambridge; where he became a most excellent Scholar, but especially very happy in English Poetry, as his learned, elaborate Works do declare, which whoso shall peruse with a judicious eye, will find to have in them the very height of Poetick fancy, and though some blame his Writings for the many Chaucerisms used by him, yet to the Learned they are known not to be blemishes, but rather beauties to his Book; which, notwithstanding, (saith a learned Writer) had been more salable, if more conformed to our modern language.

His first flight in Poetry, as not thinking himself fully fledged, was in that Book of his, called The Shepherds Kalendar, applying an old Name to a new Book; It being of Eclogues fitted to each Month in the Year: of which Work hear what that worthy Knight, Sir Philip Sidney writes, whose judgment in such cases is counted infallible: The Shepherds Kalendar (saith he) hath much Poetry in his Eclogues, indeed worthy the reading, if I be not deceived; That same framing his Stile to an old rustick Language, I dare not allow, since neither Theocritus in Greek, Virgil in Latine, nor Sanazara in Italian did effect it. Afterwards he translated the Gnat, a little fragment of Virgil's excellency. Then he translated Bellay his Ruins of Rome; His most unfortunate Work was that of Mother Hubbard's Tale, giving therein offence to one in authority, who afterwards stuck on his skirts. But his main Book, and which indeed I think Envy its self cannot carp at, was his Fairy Queen, a Work of such an ingenious composure as will last as long as time endures.

Now as you have heard what esteem Sir Philip Sidney had of his Book, so you shall hear what esteem Mr. Spenser had of Sir Philip Sidney, writing thus in his Ruins of Time.

Yet will I sing, but who can better sing Than thou thy self, thine own selfs valiance? That while thou livedst thou madest the Forests ring, And Fields resound, and Flocks to leap and dance, And Shepherds leave their Lambs unto mischance, To run thy shrill Arcadian Pipe to hear, O happy were those days, thrice happy were.

In the same his Poem of the Ruins of Time, you may see what account he makes of the World, and of the immortal Fame gotten by Poesie.

In vain do earthly Princes then, in vain, Seek with Pyramids to Heaven aspir'd; Or huge Collosses, built with costly pain; Or brazen Pillars never to be fir'd, Or Shrines, made of the metal most desir'd, To make their Memories for ever live, For how can mortal immortality give? For deeds do die, however nobly done, And thoughts of men do in themselves decay, But wise words taught in numbers for to run, Recorded by the Muses, live for aye; Ne may with storming showers be wash'd away, Ne bitter breathing with harmful blast, Nor age, nor envy, shall them ever wast.

There passeth a story commonly told and believed, that Mr. Spenser presenting his Poems to Queen Elizabeth, she highly affected therewith, commanded the Lord Cecil, her Treasurer, to give him an Hundred Pound; and when the Treasurer (a good Steward of the Queen's Money) alledged, that Sum was too much for such a matter; then give him, quoth the Queen, what is reason; but was so busied, or seemed to be so, about matters of higher concernment, that Mr. Spenser received no reward: whereupon he presented this Petition in a small piece of Paper to the Queen in her progress.

I was promis'd on a time, To have reason for my rime, From that time unto this season, I receiv'd nor rime nor reason.

This tart reflect so wrought upon the Queen, that she gave strict order (not without some check to her Treasurer) for the present payment of the hundred pounds she first intended him.

He afterwards went over into Ireland, Secretary to the Lord Gray, Lord Deputy thereof; and though that his Office under his Lord was lucrative, yet got he no Estate; Peculiari Poetis fato semper cum paupertate conflictatus est, saith the reverend Cambden; so that it fared little better with him, (than with Churchyard or Tusser before him) or with William Xiliander the German, (a most excellent Linguist, Antiquary, Philosopher, and Mathematician) who was so poor, that (as Thuanus writes) he was thought, Fami non famae scribere.

Thriving so bad in that boggy Country, to add to his misery, he was robb'd by the Rebels of that little he had left; whereupon, in great grief, he returns into England, and falling into want, which to a noble spirit is most killing, being heartbroken, he died Anno 1598. and was honourably buried at the sole charge of Robert, first of that name Earl of Essex, on whose Monument is written this Epitaph.

Edmundus Spencer, Londinensis, Anglicorum Poetarum nostri seculi fuit Princeps, quod ejus Poemata, faventibus Musis, & victuro genio conscripta comprobant. Obiit immatura morte, Anno salutis, 1598. & prope Galfredum Chaucerum conditur, qui scoelisissime Poesin Anglicis literis primus illustravit. In quem haec scripta sunt Epitaphia.

Hic prope Chaucerum situs est Spenserius, illi Proximus ingenio, proximus ut tumulo. Hic prope Chaucerum Spensere poeta poetam Conderis, & versu! quam tumulo proprior, Anglica te vivo vixit, plausitque Poesis; Nunc moritura timet, te moriente, mori.

These two last lines, for the worthiness of the Poet, are thus translated by Dr. Fuller.

Whilest thou didst live, liv'd English Poetry, Which fears, now thou art dead, that she shall die.

A modern Author writes, that the Lord Cecil owed Mr. Spenser a grudge for some Reflections of his in Mother Hubbard's Tale, and therefore when the Queen had order'd him that Money, the Lord Treasurer said, What all this for a Song? And this he is said to have taken so much to heart, that he contracted a deep Melancholy, which soon after brought his life to a period: so apt is an ingenious spirit to resent a slighting even from the greatest persons. And thus much I must needs say of the Merit of so great a Poet, from so great a Monarch, that it is incident to the best of Poets sometimes to flatter some Royal or Noble Patron, never did any do it more to the height, or with greater art and elegance, if the highest of praises attributed to so Heroick a Princess can justly be termed flattery.

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Sir JOHN HARRINGTON.

Sir John Harrington is supposed to be born in Somerset-shire, he having a fair Estate near Bath in that County. His Father, for carrying a Letter to the Lady (afterwards Queen) Elizabeth, was kept twelve months in the Tower, and made to spend a Thousand Pounds e're he could be free of that trouble. His Mother also being Servant to the Lady Elizabeth, was sequestred from her, and her Husband enjoyned not to keep company with her; so that on both sides he may be said to be very indear'd to Queen Elizabeth, who was also his Godmother, a further tye of her kindness and respects unto him.

This Sir John was bred up in Cambridge, either in Christ's or in St. John's-Colledge, under Dr. Still his Tutor. He afterwards proved one of the most ingenious Poets of our English Nation, no less noted for his Book of witty Epigrams, than his judicious Translation of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, dedicated to the Lady Elizabeth, afterwards Queen of Bohemia.

The British Epigramatist, Mr. John Owen, in his second Book of Epigrams, thus writes to him:

A Poet mean I am, yet of the Troop, Though thou art not, yet better thou canst do't.

And afterwards in his fourth Book, Epig. 20. concerning Envy's Genealogy; he thus complements him.

Fair Vertue, foul-mouth'd Envy breeds, and feeds; From Vertue only this foul Vice proceeds; Wonder not that I this to you indite, 'Gainst your rare Vertues, Envy bends her spite.

It happened that whilest the said Sir John repaired often to an Ordinary in Bath, a Female attendress at the Table, neglecting other Gentlemen, which sat higher, and were of greater Estates, applied herself wholly to him, accommodating him with all necessaries, and preventing his asking any thing with her officiousness. She being demanded by him, the reason of her so careful waiting on him? I understand (said she) you are a very witty man, and if I should displease you in any thing, I fear you would make an Epigram of me.

Sir John frequenting often the Lady Robert's House, his Wives Mother, where they used to go to dinner extraordinary late, a Child of his being there then, said Grace, which was that of the Primmer, Thou givest them Meat in due season; Hold, said Sir John to the Child, you ought not to lie unto God, for here we never have our Meat in due season. This Jest he afterwards turned into an Epigram, directing it to his Wife, and concluding it thus:

Now if your Mother angry be for this, Then you must reconcile us with a kiss.

A Posthume Book of his came forth, as an addition to Bishop Godwin's Catalogue of Bishops, wherein (saith Dr. Fuller) besides mistakes, some tart reflections in Uxaratos Episcopos, might well have been spared. In a word (saith he) he was a Poet in all things, save in his wealth, leaving a fair Estate to a learned and religious Son, and died about the middle of the Reign of King James.

* * * * *



JOHN HEYWOOD.

This John Heywood was one of the first writers of English Plays, contemporary with the Authors of Gammar Gurton's Needle, and Tom Tyler and his Wife, as may appear by the Titles of his Interludes; viz. The Play of Love; Play of the Weather; Play between Johan the Husband, and Tib his Wife; Play between the Pardoner and the Fryer, and the Curate and Neighbour Prat; Play of Gentleness and Nobility, in two parts. Besides these he wrote two Comedies, the Pinner of Wakefield, and Philotas Scotch. There was of this Name, in King Henry the Eighth's Reign, an Epigramatist, who, saith the Author of the Art of English Poetry, for the mirth and quickness of his conceits, more than any good learning was in him, came to be well benefited by the King.

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THOMAS HEYWOOD.

Thomas Heywood was a greater Benefactor to the Stage than his Namesake, John Heywood, aforesaid, he having (as you may read in an Epistle to a Play of his, called, The English Travellers) had an entire hand, or at least a main finger in the writing of 220 of them. And no doubt but he took great pains therein, for it is said, that he not only Acted himself almost every day, but also wrote each day a Sheet; and that he might lose no time, many of his Plays were composed in the Tavern, on the back-side of Tavern Bills; which may be an occasion that so many of them are lost, for of those 220. mentioned before, we find but 25. of them Printed, viz. The Brazen Age; Challenge for Beauty; The English Travellers; The first and second part of Edward the Fourth; The first and second part of Queen Elizabeth's Troubles; Fair Maid of the West, first and second part; Fortune by Land and Sea; Fair Maid of the Exchange; Maidenhead well lost; Royal King and Loyal Subject; Woman kill'd with kindess; Wise Woman of Hogsdon, Comedies. Four London Prentices; The Golden Age; The Iron Age, first and second part; Robert Earl of Huntington's downfal Robert Earl of Huntington's death; The Silver Age; Dutchess of Suffolk, Histories; And Loves Mistress, a Mask. And, as if the Name of Heywood were destinated to the Stage, there was also one Jasper Heywood, who wrote three Tragedies, namely, Hercules Furiens, Thyestes, and Troas. Also, in my time I knew one Matthew Heywood; who wrote a Comedy, called The Changling, that should have been acted at Audley-end House, but, by I know not what accident was prevented.

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GEORGE PEEL.

George Peel, a somewhat antiquated English Bard of Queen Elizabeth's date, some remnants of whose pretty pastoral Poetry we have extant in a Collection, entituled, England's Helicon. He also contributed to the Stage three Plays, Edward the first, a History; Alphonsus, Emperour of Germany, a Tragedy; and David and Bathsabe a Tragi-Comedy; which no doubt in the time he wrote passed with good applause.

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JOHN LILLY.

John Lilly, a famous Poet for the State in his time, as by the Works which he left appears, being in great esteem in his time, and acted then with great applause of the Vulgar, as such things which they understood, and composed chiefly to make them merry. Yet so much prized as they were Printed together in one Volume, namely, Endymion, Alexander and Campasoe, Galatea, Midas, Mother Boniby, Maids Metamorphosis, Sapho and Phao, Woman in the Moon, Comedies; and another Play called A Warning for fair Women; all which declare the great pains he took, and the esteem which he had in that Age.

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WILLIAM WAGER.

This William Wager is most famous for an Interlude which he wrote, called Tom Tyler and his Wife, which passed with such general applause that it was reprinted in the year 1661. and has been Acted divers times by private persons; the chief Argument whereof is, Tyler his marrying to a Shrew, which, that you may the better understand, take it in the Author's own words, speaking in the person of Tom Tyler.

I am a poor Tyler, in simple array, And get a poor living, but eight pence a day, My Wife as I get it doth spend it away; And I cannot help it, she saith; wot ye why? For wedding and hanging comes by destiny. I thought when I wed her, she had been a Sheep, At board to be friendly, to sleep when I sleep: She loves so unkindly, she makes me to weep. But I dare say nothing, god wot; wot ye why? For wedding and hanging comes by destiny. Besides this unkindness whereof my grief grows, I think few Tylers are matcht to such shrows, Before she leaves brawling, she falls to deal blows. Which early and late doth cause me to cry, That wedding and hanging is destiny. The more that I please her, the worse she doth like me, The more I forbear her, the more she doth strike me, The more that I get her, the more she doth glike me. Wo worth this ill fortune that maketh me cry, That wedding and hanging is deny. If I had been hanged when I had been married, My torments had ended, though I had miscarried, If I had been warned, then would I have tarried; But now all too lately I feel and cry, That wedding and hanging is destiny.

He wrote also two Comedies, The Tryal of Chivalry, and The longer thou livest, the more Fool thou art.

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NICHOLAS BRETON.

Nicholas Breton, a writer of Pastoral Sonnets, Canzons, and Madrigals, in which kind of writing he keeps company with several other contemporary Emulators of Spencer and Sir Philip Sidney, in a publish'd Collection of several Odes of the chief Sonneters of that Age. He wrote also several other Books, whereof two I have by me, Wits Private Wealth, and another called The Courtier and the Country-man, in which last, speaking of Vertue, he hath these Verses:

There is a Secret few do know, And doth in special places grow, A rich mans praise, a poor mans wealth, A weak mans strength, a sick mans health, A Ladies beauty, a Lords bliss, A matchless Jewel where it is; And makes, where it is truly seen, A gracious King, and glorious Queen.

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THOMAS KID, THOMAS WATSON, &c.

Thomas Kid, a writer that seems to have been of pretty good esteem for versifying in former times, being quoted among some of the more fam'd Poets, as Spencer, Drayton, Daniel, Lodge &C. with whom he was either contemporary, or not much later: There is particularly remembred his Tragedy, Cornelia.

There also flourish'd about the same time Thomas Watson, a contemporary immitater of Sir Philip Sidney, as also Tho. Hudson, Joh. Markham, Tho. Achelly, Joh. Weever, Ch. Middleton, Geo. Turbervile, Hen. Constable, with some others, especially one John Lane, whose Works though much better meriting than many that are in print, yet notwithstanding had the ill fate to be unpublish'd, but they are all still reserved in Manuscript, namely, his Poetical Vision, his Alarm to the Poets his Twelve Months, his Guy of Warwick, a Heroick Poem; and lastly, his Supplement to Chaucer's Squires Tale.

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Sir THOMAS OVERBURY.

Sir Thomas Overbury, a Knight and Wit, was Son to Sir Nicholas Overbury of Burton in Glocester-shire, one of the Judges of the Marches; who, to his natural propension of ingenuity, had the addition of good Education, being bred up first in Oxford, afterwards, for a while a Student of the Law in the Middle Temple; soon after he cast Anchor at Court, the Haven of Hope for all aspiring Spirits; afterwards travell'd into France, where having been some time, he returned again, and was entertained into the respects of Sir Rob. Carre, one who was newly initiated a Favourite to King James; where, by his wise carriage, he purchased to himself not only the good affection and respect of Sir Robert, but also of divers other eminent persons.

During his abode with Sir Robert Carre, he composed that excellent Poem of his, entituled, A Wife; which, for the excellency thereof, the Author of the Epistle to the Reader, prefixed before his Book, thus writes, Had such a Poem been extant among the ancient Romans, altho' they wanted our easie conservation of Wit by Printing, they would have committed it to Brass, lest injurious time might deprive it of due eternity. Nor was his Poem of A Wife not only done to the life, but also those Characters which he wrote, to this day not out-witted by any.

But to return from the Work to the Workman; Mr. Overbury is by the King knighted, and Sir Rob. Carre made a Viscount, and such a reciprocal Love pass'd betwixt them, that it was questionable, whether the Viscount were more in favour with King James, or Sir Thomas Overbury in the favour of the Viscount? But what estate on earth is so firm, that is not changeable, or what friendship is so constant, that is not dissolvable? Who would imagine this Viscount should be instrumental to his death, who had done him so faithful service, and to whom he had embosom'd his most secret thoughts? Yet so it was, for Sir Thomas, out of an unfeigned affection which he bare to the Viscount, diswaded him from a motion of a Marriage which was propounded betwixt him and the Lady Francis Howard, who was lately divorced from the Earl of Essex, as a Match neither for his credit here, nor comfort hereafter. This Counsel, though it proceeded from an unfeigned love in Sir Thomas, yet where Beauty commands, all discretion being sequestred, created in the Viscount a hatred towards him; and in the Countess the fury of a woman, a desire of revenge, who perswaded the Viscount, That it was not possible that ever she should endure those injuries, or hope for any prosperity so long as he lived; That she wondred how he could be so familiar, so much affected to his man Overbury; that without him he could do nothing, as it were making him his right hand, seeing he being newly grown into the Kings favour, and depending wholly upon his greatness, must expect to be clouded if not ruined, when his servant that knew his secrets should come to preferment. The Viscount, apt enough of his own inclination to revenge, being thus further exasperated by the Countess, they joyntly resolve upon his death, and soon a fit opportunity came to their hands. He being by King James (and as it is thought by the Viscount's Counsel) nominated to be sent Embassador to the Emperor of Russia, was by the said Viscount, whom he especially trusted, persuaded to decline the employment, as no better than an honourable Grave; Better lie some days in the Tower, than more months in a worse Prison; a Ship by Sea, and a barbarous cold Country by Land. You are now (Said he) in credit at home, and have made tryal of the dangers of travel, why then should you hazard all upon uncertainties, being already in possession of that you can probably expect by these means; promising him, that within a small time he would so work with the King, that he should have a good of opinion him. But he (saith Dr. Fuller) who willingly goes into a Prison out of hope to come easily out of it, may stay therein so long till he be too late convinced of his error.

And now having him in the place where they would, their next study to secure their revenge, was closely to make him away; which they concluded to be by poyson. To this end, they consult with one Mrs. Turner (the first inventer of that horrid Garb of yellow Ruffs and Cuffs, and in which Garb she was after hanged) she having acquaintance with one James Franklin, a man skilled for that purpose, agreed with him to provide that which should not kill presently, but cause one to languish away by degrees, a little and a little. Sir Gervas Yelvis, Lieutenant of the Tower, being drawn into the Conspiracy, admits one Weston, Mrs. Turners man, who under pretence of waiting upon Sir Thomas, was to act the horrid Tragedy. The Plot thus continued, Franklin buyes certain Poysons, viz. Sosater, white Arsenic, Mercury sublimate, Cantharides, red Mercury, with three or four other deadly Ingredients, which he delivered to Weston, with instructions how to use them. Weston, (an apt Scholar in the Devil's School) tempers them in his Broth and Meat, increasing or diminishing their strength according as he saw him affected. Besides these, poyson'd Tarts & Jellies are sent him by the Viscount. Nay, they poysoned his very Salt, Sauce, Meat and Drink; but being of a very strong Constitution, he held out still: At last they effected their work by a poysoned Clyster which they administed unto him, so that the next day he died thereof; and because there were some Blisters and ugly Botches on his Body, the Conspirators gave it out he died of the French Pox.

Thus by the Malice of a Woman this worthy Knight was murdered, who yet still lives in that witty Poem of his, entituled, a Wife; as is well expressed by these Verses under his Picture.

A man's best Fortune, or his worst's a Wife: Yet I that knew no Marriage, Peace, nor Strife, Live by a good one, by a bad one lost my Life.

But God, who seldom suffers Murder to go unrevenged, revealed the same; for notwithstanding what the Conspirators had given out, Suspitions grew high that Sir Thomas was poysoned: Whereupon We port is examined by the Lord Cook, who at first flatly denied the same; but being perswaded by the Bishop of London, he tells all: How Mrs. Turner and the Countess came acquainted; what relation she had to Witches, Sorcerers and Conjurers; and discovers all those who had any hand in it: whereupon they were all apprehended; some sent to the Tower, others to Newgate. Having thus confessed, being convicted according to course of Law, he was hanged at Tyburn; after him Mrs. Turner, after her Franklin, then Sir Gervas Yelvis, upon their several Arraignments, were found guilty, and executed. Some of them died very penitent: The Earl and his Countess were both condemned, but through the King's gracious Pardon had their Lives saved, but were never admitted to the Favour of the Court.

We shall conclude all with this his Epitaph written by himself.

The span of my days measur'd, here I rest, That is, my Body; but my Soul, his Guest, Is hence ascended, whither, neither Time, Nor Faith, nor Hope, but only Love can clime; Where being now enlightned, she doth know The Truth of all men argue of below: Only this Dust doth here in pawn remain, That, when the world dissolves, she come again.

* * * * *



Mr. MICHAEL DRAYTON.

Mr. Drayton, one who had drunk as deep a Draught at Helicon as any in his time, was born at Athelston in Warwickshire, as appeareth in his Poetical Address thereunto, Poly-Olbion, Song 13. p. 213.

My native Country then, which so brave Spirits hast bred, If there be virtue yet remaining in thy earth, Or any good of thine thou breath'st into my Birth, Accept it as thine own whilst now I sing of thee, Of all thy latter Brood th'unworthiest tho' I be.

He was in his time for fame and renown in Poetry, not much inferior, if not equal to Mr. Spencer, or Sir Philip Sidney himself. Take a taste of the sprightfulness of his Muse, out of his Poly-Olbion, speaking of his native County Warwickshire.

Upon the Mid-lands now th'industrious Muse doth fall, That Shire which we the Heart of England well may call, As she herself extends (the midst which is Deweed) betwixt St. Michael's Mount and Barwick-bordering Tweed, Brave Warwick that abroad so long advanc'd her Bear, By her illustrious Earls renowned every where, Above her neighbouring Shires which always bore her Head.

Also in the Beginning of his Poly-Olbion he thus writes;

Of Albions glorious Isle the wonders whilst I write, The sundry varying Soyls, the Pleasures infinite, Where heat kills not the cold, nor cold expells the heat, The calms too mildly small, nor winds too roughly great. Nor night doth hinder day, nor day the night doth wrong; The summer not too short, the winter not too long: What help shall I invoke to aid my Muse the while? &c.

However, in the esteem of the more curious of these times, his Works seem to be antiquated, especially this of his Poly-Olbion because of the old-fashion'd kind of Verse thereof, which seems somewhat to diminish that respect which was formerly paid to the Subject, although indeed both pleasant and elaborate, wherein he took a great deal both of study and pains; and thereupon thought worthy to be commented upon by that once walking Library of our Nation, Mr. John Selden: His Barons Wars are done to the Life, equal to any of that Subject. His Englands Heroical Epistles generally liked and received, entituling him unto the appellation of the English Ovid. His Legends of Robert Duke of Normandy. Matilda, Pierce Gaveston, and Thomas Cromwel, all of them done to the Life. His Idea expresses much Fancy and Poetry. And to such as love that Poetry, that of Nymphs and Shepherds, his Nymphals, and other things of that nature, cannot be unpleasant.

To conclude, He was a Poet of a pious temper, his Conscience having always the command of his Fancy; very temperate in his Life, flow of speech, and inoffensive in company. He changed his Lawrel for a Crown of Glory, Anno 1631. and was buried in Westminster-Abbey, near the South-door, by those two eminent Poets, Geoffry Chaucer and Edmond Spencer, with this Epitaph made (as it is said) by Mr. Benjamin Johnson.

Do, pious Marble, let thy Readers know What they, and what their Children ow To Drayton's Name, whose sacred Dust We recommend unto thy Trust

Protect his Memory, and preserve his Story, Remain a lasting Monument of his Glory: And when thy Ruines shall disclaim To be the Treasurer of his Name, His Name that cannot fade shall be An everlasting Monument to thee.

* * * * *



JOSHUA SYLVESTER.

Joshua Sylvester, a very eminent Translator of his time, especially of the Divine Du Bartus, whose six days work of Creation, gain'd him an immortal Fame, having had many great Admirers even to these days, being usher'd into the world by the chiefest Wits of that Age; amongst others, the most accomplisht Mr. Benjamin Johnson thus wrote of him.

If to admire, were to commend my Praise might then both thee, thy work and merit raise; But, as it is (the Child of Ignorance And utter stranger to all Ayr of France) How can I speak of thy great pains, but err; Since they can only judge that can confer? Behold! the reverend shade of Bartus stands Before my thought and (in thy right) commands That to the world I publish, for him, this: Bartus doth with thy English now were his, So well in that are his Inventions wrought, As his will now be the Translation thought, Thine the Original; and France shall boast No more those Maiden-Glories she hath lost.

He hath also translated several other Works of Du Bartus; namely, Eden, the Deceipt, the Furies, the Handicrafts, the Ark, Babylon, the Colonies, the Columns, the Fathers, Jonas, Urania, Triumph of Faith, Miracle of Peace, the Vocation, the Fathers, the Daw, the Captains, the Trophies, the Magnificence, &c. Also a Paradox of Odes de la Nove, Baron of Teligni, with the Quadrains of Pibeac; all which Translations were generally well received: but for his own Works which were bound up with them, they received not so general an approbation; as you may perceive by these Verses;

We know thou dost well As a Translator, But where things require A Genius and a Fire, Not kindled before by others pains, As often thou hast wanted Brains.

* * * * *



Mr. SAMUEL DANIEL.

Mr. Daniel was born nigh to the Town of Taunton in Somersetshire; his Father was a Master of Musick, and his harmonious Mind (saith Dr. Fuller) made an impression in his Son's Genius, who proved to be one of the Darlings of the Muses, a most excellent Poet, whose Wings of Fancy displayed the Flags of highest Invention: Carrying in his Christian and Sirname the Names of two holy Prophets; which, as they were Monitors to him, for avoyding Scurrility, so he qualified his Raptures to such a strain, as therein he abhorred all Debauchery and Prophaneness.

Nor was he only one of the inspired Train of Phoebus, but also a most judicious Historian, witness his Lives of our English Kings since the Conquest, until King Edward the Third, wherein he hath the happiness to reconcile brevity with clearness, qualities of great distance in other Authors; and had he continued to these times, no doubt it had been a Work incomparable: Of which his Undertaking, Dr. Heylin in the Preface to his Cosmography, gives this Character, speaking of the chiefest Historians of this Nation; And to end the Bed-roll (says he) half the Story of this Realm done by Mr. Daniel, of which I believe that which himself saith of it in his Epistle to the Reader, that there was never brought together more of the Main. Which Work is since commendably continued (but not with equal quickness and judgment,) by Mr. Truffel.

As for his Poems so universally received, the first in esteem is, that Heroical one of the Civil Wars between the two Houses of York and Lancaster; of which the elaborate Mr. Speed, in his Reign of Richard the Second, thus writes: The Seeds (saith he) of those fearful Calamities, a flourishing Writer of our Age (speaking of Mr. Daniel) willing nearly to have imitated Lucan, as he is indeed called our English Lucan, doth not unfortunately express, tho' he might rather have said he wept them, than sung them; but indeed so to sing them, is to weep them.

I sing the Civil Wars, tumultuous Broils And bloody Factions of a mighty Land, Whose people haughty, proud with foreign spoyls; Upon their selves turn back their conquering hand

While Kin their Kin, Brother the Brother foils, Like Ensigns, all against like Ensigns stand: Bows against Bows, a Crown against a Crown, While all pretending right, all right throw down

Take one Taste more of his Poetry, in his sixth Book of that Heroical Poem, speaking of the Miseries of Civil War.

So wretched is this execrable War, This civil Sword, wherein though all we see be foul, and all things miserable are, Yet most of all is even the Victory; Which is, not only the extream Ruiner of others, but her own Calamity; Where who obtains, cannot what he would do: Their power hath part that holp him thereunto.

Next, take notice of his Musophilus, or general Defence of Learning, Dedicated to Sir Fulk Greuil; his Letter of Octovia to Marcus Antonius, his Complaint of Rosamond his Panegyrick, Delia, &c. Besides his Dramatick Pieces; as his Tragedy of Philotus and Cleopatra; Hymenis Triumph, and the Queens Arcadia, a Pastoral; being all of them of such worth, that they were well accepted by the choicest Judgments of those Times, and do yet remain in good esteem, as by their often Impressions may appear.

This our Poet's deserts preferr'd him to be a Servant in ordinary to Queen Anne, the most illustrious wife of King James I. who allowed him a fair Salary, such as enabled him to keep a handsom Gardenhouse in Old-street nigh London, where he would commonly lie obscure sometimes two Months together, the better to enjoy that great Felicity he aimed at, by enjoying the company of the Muses, and then would appear in publick, to recreate himself, and converse with his Friends; of whom the most endeared were the Learned Doctor Cowel, and Judicious Mr. Cambden.

And now being weary of the Troubles of the City and Court, he retired into the Country, and turn'd Husbandman, Renting a Farm or Grange in Wiltshire nigh the Devizes, not so much, as it is thought, for the hope of gains, as to enjoy the retiredness of a Country Life: How he thrived upon it, I cannot inform my self, much less my Readers, although no question pleasing himself therein, he attained to that Riches he sought for, viz. Quiet and Contentedness; which whoso enjoys, reapeth benefit of his labours. He left no Issue behind him but those of his Brain, though living a good space of time with Justina his wife: For his Estate, he had neither a Bank of Wealth, nor Lank of Want; but living in a competent contented condition, and died (as it is conjectured) about the latter end of King James I.

* * * * *



GEORGE CHAPMAN.

George Chapman was one in his time much famed for the Fluency of his Muse; gaining a great repute for his Translation of Homer and Hesiod, which in those times passed as Works done without compare; and indeed considering he was one of the first who brake the Ice in the Translation of such learned Authors, reading the highest conception of their Raptures into a neat polite English, as gave the true meaning of what they intended, and rendred it a style acceptable to the Reader; considering, I say, what Age he lived in, it was very well worthy praise; though since the Translation of Homer is very far out-done by Mr. Ogilby. He also continued that excellent Poem of Hero and Leander, begun by Christopher Marlow, and added very much to the Stage in those times by his Dramatick Writings; as his Blind Beggar of Alexandria, All Fools, the Gentleman Usher, Humorous Days Mirth, May-Day, Mounsieur D'Olive, Eastward ho, Two wise men, and all the rest Fools, Widows Tears, Comedies; Bussy D' Amboys, Byron's Tragedy, Bussy D'Amboys Revenge, Caesar and Pompey, Revenge for Honour, Tragedies; the Temple, Masque of the Middle Temple and Lincolns-Inn Masques; and Byron's Conspiracy, a History; in all seventeen.

* * * * *



ROBERT BARON.

Of this Robert Baron, we can recover nothing, save only those Dramatick Pieces which he wrote to the Stage, and which no doubt passed with good applause in those times. Of these are remembred his Don Quixot, or the Knight of the Ill-favoured Countenance, a Comedy; Gripus and Hegia, a Pastoral; Deorum Dona, Dick Scorner, Destruction of Jerusalem, the Marriage of Wit and Science, Masques and Interludes; and Myrza, a Tragedy.

* * * * *



LODOVIC CARLISLE.

To Mr. Robert Baron we may add Lodovic Carlisle, as much about the same time, and of like equal esteem; having written some not yet totally forgotten Plays, viz. Arviragus and Felicia, in two parts; the deserving Favorite, the Fool would be a Favorite, or the deserving Lover, Tragi-Comedies; Marius and Scylla, and Osmond the Great Turk, or the Noble Servant, Tragedies; all which shew him (though not a Master) yet a great Retainer to the Muses.

* * * * *



JOHN FORD.

To these we may add John Ford, a Dramatick Writer likewise of those times; very beneficial to the Red-Bull and Fortune-Play-houses; as may appear by these Plays which he wrote, viz. The Fancies, Ladies Tryal, Comedies; the broken Heart; Lovers Melancholy, Loves Sacrifice, 'tis pity she's a Whore, Tragedies; Perkin Warbeck, a History; and an Associate with Rowley and Deckar in a Tragi-Comedy called The Witch of Edmonton.

* * * * *



ANTHONY BREWER.

Anthony Brewer was also one who in his time contributed very much towards the English Stage by his Dramatick Writings; especially in that noted one of his, entituled, Lingua; which (as it is reported) being once acted in Cambridge, the late Usurper Cromwel had therein the Part of Tactus, the Substance of the Play being a Contention among the Senses for a Crown, which Lingua, who would have made up a sixth Sense, had laid for them to find; having this Inscription;

Which of the five that doth deserve it best, Shall have his Temples with this Coronet blest.

This Mock-contention for a Crown, is said to swell his Ambition so high, that afterwards he contended for it in earnest, heading such a notable Rebellion, as had almost ruined three flourishing Kingdoms.

But to return to Mr. Brewer; Besides this Lingua, he wrote Loves Loadstone, and the Countrey-Girl, Comedies; the Love-sick King, and Landagartha, Tragi-Comedies, and Loves Dominion, a Pastoral.

* * * * *



HENRY GLAPTHORN.

Henry Glapthorn was one well deserving of the English, being one of the chiefest Dramatick Writers of this Age; deservingly commendable not so much for the quantity as the quality of his Plays; being his Hollander, Ladies Priviledge, and Wit in a Constable, Comedies; his Argalus and Parthenia, a Pastoral; and Alberus Wailestein, a Tragedy; in which Tragedy these Lines are much commended.

This Law the Heavens inviolably keep, Their Justice well may slumber, but ne'er sleep,

* * * * *



JOHN DAVIS of Hereford.

In the writing of this Mans Life, we shall make use of Dr. Fuller in his England's Worthies, who saith, that he was the greatest Master of the Pen that England in his Age beheld; for,

1. Fast writing; so incredible his expedition.

2. Fair writing; some minutes consultation being required to decide whether his Lines were written or printed.

3. Close writing; a Mystery which to do well, few attain unto.

4. Various writing; Secretary, Roman, Court and Text.

The Poetical Fiction of Briareus the Giant, who had an hundred hands, found a Moral in him, who could so cunningly and copiously disguise his aforesaid elemental hands, that by mixing, he could make them appear an hundred; and if not so many sorts, so many degrees of writing. He had also many pretty excursions into Poetry, and could flourish Matters as well as Letters, with his Fancy as well as with his Pen. Take a taste of his Abilities in those Verses of his before Coriat's Crudities, being called the Odcombian Banquet, wherein the whole Club of Wits in that Age joyned together, to write Mock-commendatory Verses in Praise-dispraise of his Book.

If Art that oft the Learn'd hath stammer'd, In one Iron Head-piece (yet no Hammer-Lead) May (joyn'd with Nature) hit Fame on the Cocks-comb, Then 'tis that Head-piece that is crown'd with Odcomb For he, hard Head (and hard, sith like a Whet-stone) It gives Wits edge, and draws them too like Jet-stone) Is Caput Mundi for a world of School-tricks, And is not ignorant in the learned'st—tricks H'hath seen much more than much, I assure ye, And will see New-Troy, Bethlem, and Old-Jury Meanwhile (to give a taste of his first travel, With streams of Rhetorick that get golden Gravel) He tells how he to Venice once did wander; From whence he came more witty than a Gander: Whereby he makes relations of such wonders, That Truth therein doth lighten, while Art thunders, All Tongues fled to him that at Babel swerved, Left they for want of warm months might have starved, Where they do revel in such passing measure, (Especially the Greek, wherein's his pleasure.) That (jovially) so Greek he takes the guard of, That he's the merriest Greek that ere was heard of; For he as 'twere his Mothers twittle twattle, (That's Mother-tongue) the Greek can prittle prattle. Nay, of that Tongue he so hath got the Body, That he sports with it at Ruffe, Gleek or Noddy, &c.

He died at London in the midst of the Reign of King James I. and lieth buried in St. Giles in the Fields.

* * * * *



Doctor JOHN DONNE.

This pleasant Poet, painful Preacher, and pious Person, was born in London, of wealthy Parents, who took such care of his Education, that at nine years of Age he was sent to study at Hart-Hall in Oxford, having besides the Latine and Greek, attained to a knowledge in the French Tongue. Here he fell into acquaintance with that great Master of Language and Art, Sir Henry Wootton; betwixt whom was such Friendship contracted, that nothing but Death could force the separation.

From Oxford he was transplanted to Cambridge, where he much improved his Study, and from thence placed at Lincolns Inn, when his Father dying, and leaving him three thousand pound in ready Money; he having a youthful desire to travel, went over with the Earl of Essex to Cales; where having seen the issue of this Expedition, he left them and went into Italy, and from thence into Spain, where by his industry he attained to a perfection in their Languages, and returned home with many useful Observations of those Countries, and their Laws and Government.

These his Abilities, upon his Return, preferred him to be Secretary to the Lord Elsmore, Keeper of the Great Seal; in whose Service he fell in Love with a young Gentlewoman who lived in that Family, Neece to the Lady Elsmore, and Daughter to Sir George Moor, Chancellor of the Garter, and Lieutenant of the Tower, who greatly opposed this Match; yet notwithstanding they were privately married: which so exasperated Sir George Moor, that he procured the Lord Elsmore to discharge him of his Secretariship, and never left prosecuting him till he had cast him into Prison, as also his two Friends who had married him, and gave him his Wife in Marriage.

But Mr.Donne had not been long there before he found means to get out, as also enlargement for his two Friends, and soon after through the mediation of some able persons, a reconciliation was made, and he receiving a Portion with his Wife, and having help of divers friends, they lived very comfortably together; And now was he frequently visited by men of greatest learning and judgment in this Kingdom; his company desired by the Nobility, and extreamly affected by the Gentry: His friendship was sought for of most foreign Embassadors, and his acquaintance entreated by many other strangers, whose learning or employment occasioned their stay in this Kingdom. In which state of life he composed his more brisk and youthful Poems; in which he was so happy, as if Nature with all her varieties had been made to exercise his great Wit and Fancy; Nor did he leave it off in his old age, as is witnessed by many of his divine Sonnets, and other high, holy and harmonious Composures, under his Effigies in these following Verses to his Printed Poems, one most ingeniously expresses.

This was for youth, strength, mirth, and wit, the time Most count their golden age, but 'twas not thine: Thine was thy later years, so much refin'd, From youths dross, mirth, and wit, as thy pure mind, Thought, like the Angels, nothing but the praise Of thy Creator in those last best days. Witness this Book, thy Emblem, which begins With love, but ends with sighs and tears for sins.

At last, by King James's his command, or rather earnest persuasion, setting himself to the study of Theology, and into holy Orders, he was first made a Preacher of Lincoln's-Inn, afterwards advanc'd to be Dean of Pauls, and as of an eminent Poet he became a much more eminent Preacher, so he rather improved then relinquisht his Poetical fancy, only con converting it from humane and worldly to divine and heavenly Subjects; witness this Hymn made in the time of his sickness.

A Hymn to God the Father.

Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, tho' it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run, And do run still, tho' still I do deplore? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won Others to sin, and made my sin their door? Wilt thou forgive that sin, which I did shun A year or two, but wallowed in a score? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun My last thrid, I shall perish on the shore; But swear by thy self, that at my death thy son Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore; And having done that, thou hast done, I ask no more.

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