Readers, I find the Works which I have wrote,

Are not so bad, as you can find much fault;

For if you could, I doubt you would not spare

Me in your censures, but their faults declare;

For I perceive the World is evil bent,

Judging the worst, although it good was meant;

And if a word to wantonness could wrest,

They’ll be so pleas’d, and often at it jest;

When every foolish tongue can with words play,

And turn good sense, with words, an evil way:

But at my Writings let them do their worst,

And for their pains with Ignorance be curst.

In Winter cold, a Company was met

Both Men and Women by the Fire set;

At last they did agree to pass the time,

That every one should tell a Tale in Rhime.

The Women said, they could no Number keep,

Or could they run on smooth and even Feet.

“Why,” said the Men, “all Womens Tongues are free

To speak both out of time, and nonsensly”

And drawing lots, the chance fell on a Man,

When he had spit and blow’d his Nose, began:

I travelling, it was my chance to see

A little House hard by a Tombe to be;

My curiosity made me inquire

Who dwelt therein; to further my desire,

I knocked at the door, at last came one,

Which told me ’twas a Lady liv’d alone:

I pray’d that I the Lady might but see,

She told me she did shun all Company.

By her discourse the Lady had been Wife,

But being a Widow, liv’d a lonely life.

I told her, I did travel all about,

If I could finde a Constant Woman out.

She told me, if the World had any where

A Constant Woman, sure she dwelled there.

I stayed there, in hopes my chance might be,

Some wayes or other, this Lady to see;

And lying underneath a Tombe at night,

At Curfue time, this Lady with a Light

Came forth the House, all clothed in white,

And to the Tombe her walk she bended right;

With a majestick grace she walk’d along,

She seem’d to be both beautifull and young;

And when she came, she kneeled down to pray,

And thus unto her self did softly say.

“Give leave, you Gods, this loss for to lament,

Give my soul leave to seek which wayes his went;

O let my spirits with his run a Race,

Not to out-go, but to get next in place.

Amongst the Sons of Men raise up his Fame,

Let not foul Envy Canker-fret the same;

And whil’st, great Gods, I in the World do live,

Grant I may Honour to my Husband give;

O grant that all fond love away may fly,

But let my Heart amongst his Ashes lye:

Here do I sacrifice each vainer dress,

And idle words my ignorant youth express.

Here, Dear, I cancel all Self-love, and make

A Bond thy loving Memory to take,

And B2r 3

And in my soul alwayes adore the same,

My Thoughts shall build up Altars to thy name;

Thy Image in my Heart shall fixed be,

My Tears from thence shall Copies take of thee;

And on my Cheeks those Tears as Pictures plac’t,

Or like thy Carved Statue, ne’r shall waste;

Thy praise my words, though Air, shall paint so deep,

By Repetition, shall for ever keep.”

With that, Tears from her Eyes in showers did flow.

Then I rose up, to her my self did shew.

She seem’d not to be moved at my sight,

Because her Grief was far above her Fright.

Said I, “weep, weep no more, thou Beauteous Saint,

Nor over these dull Ashes make complaint;

They feel not thy warm Tears which liquid flow,

Nor thy deep Sighs, which from thy Heart do go;

They hear thee not, nor thank thee for thy love,

Nor yet his Soul that’s with the Gods above:

Take comfort, Saint, since Life will not return,

And bury not your Joyes within this Urn.”

[She Answered.]

“I have no Joyes, in him they did reside,

They fled away when that his Body dy’d;

Not that my Love unto his Shape was ty’d,

But to his Virtues which did in him bide.

He had a Generosity beyond all merit,

A Noble Fortitude possest his spirit;

Foreseeing Prudence, which his Life did guide,

And temperate Thoughts did in his Soul abide;

His speech was sweet, and gentle to the ear,

Delight sate close, as listning for to hear

His Counsel wise, and all his Actions good;

His Truth and Honesty as Judges stood

For to direct, and give his Actions law;

His Piety to Gods was full of awe.

Wherefore return, your Counsels are in vain,

For I must grieve whil’st I in th’world remain;

For I have sacrific’d all my Delights

Upon my Noble Husbands Grave, and slights

All Vanities, which Women young do prize,

Though they intangle them, as webs do Flyes.”

“O Sir,” said she, “the Sun that gave me light,

Death hath eclips’d, and taken from my sight;

In Melancholy Shades my Soul doth lye,

And grieves my Body will not quickly dye;

My Spirits long to wander in the Air,

Hoping to finde its loving Partner there:

Though Fates decree my life for to prolong,

No power hath my Constant Minde to turn.”

But when I did perceive no Rhetorick could

Perswade her to take Comfort, grieve she would:

Then did I take my leave to go away,

With adoration thus to her did say.

“Farewell you Angel of a Heavenly Breed,

For sure thou com’st not from a Mortal Seed;

Thou art so constant unto Virtue, fair,

Which very few of either Sexes are.”

And after in short time I heard she dy’d,

Her Tombe was built close by her Husbands side:

A man that had a young and a fair Wife,

Whose Virtue was unspotted all her life;

Her words were smooth which from her tongue did slide,

All her Discourse was wittily apply’d;

Her Actions modest, her Behaviour so,

As when she mov’d, the Graces seem’d to go.

Whatever ill she chanc’d to hear or see,

Yet still her Thoughts as pure as Angels be.

Her Husbands love seem’d such, as no delight

Nor joy could take out of his dear Wives sight.

It chanc’d this virtuous Wife fell sick to death,

Thus to her Husband spake with dying breath,

“Farewell, my dearest Husband, dye I must,

Yet do not you forget me in the Dust,

Because B3r 5

Because my spirit would grieve, if it should see

Another in my room thy Love to be;

My Ghost would mourn, lament, that never dyes,

Though Bodies do pure Loves eternalize.”

“You Gods,” said he, “that order Death and Life,

O strike me dead, unless you spare my Wife.

If your Decree is fix’d, nor alter’d can,

But she must dye, O miserable man!

Here do I vow, great Gods all witness be,

That I will have no other Wife but thee;

No friendship will I make, converse with none,

But live an Anchoret my self alone;

Thy spirits sweet my thoughts shall entertain,

And in my minde thy Memory remain.”

“Farewell,” said she, “for now my soul’s at peace,

And all the blessings of the Gods increase

Upon thy Soul, yet wish you would not give

Away that Love I had whil’st I did live.”

Turning her head; as if to sleep she lay,

In a soft sigh her Spirits flew away.

When she was dead, great Mourning he did make,

Would neither eat, nor drink, nor rest could take,

Kissing her cold pale lips, her cheeks, each eye,

Cursing his Fates he lives, and may not dye.

Tears fell so fast, as if his Sorrows meant

To lay her in a watry Monument.

But when her Corps was laid upon the Hearse,

No tongue can tell, nor his great grief express.

Thus did he pass his time a week or two,

In sad complaints, and melancholy wo;

At last he was perswaded for to take

Some Air abroad, ev’n for his own healths sake.

But first, unto the Grave he went to pray,

Kissing that Earth wherein her Body lay.

After a month or two, his Grief to ease,

Some Recreations seeks himself to please;

And calling for his Horses, and his Hounds,

He means to hunt upon the Champain grounds:

By these pastimes his thoughts diverted are,

Goes by the Grave, and never drops a Tear.

At last he chanc’d a Company to meet

Of Virgins young, and fresh as Flowers sweet;

B3 Their B3v 6

Their Clothing fine, their Humours pleasant gay,

And with each other they did sport and play:

Giving his Eyes a liberty to view,

With interchanging looks in Love he grew.

One Maid among the rest, most fair and young,

Who had a ready wit, and pleasant tongue,

He courtship made to her, he did address,

Cast off his Mourning, Love for to express;

Rich Clothes he made, and wondrous fine they were,

He barb’d, and curl’d, and powder’d sweet his Hair;

Rich Gifts unto his Mistris did present,

And every day to visit her he went.

They like each one so well, they both agree

That in all haste they straight must married be.

To Church they went, for joy the Bels did ring,

When married were, he home the Bride did bring;

But when he married was some half a year,

Then Curtain lectures from his Wife did hear;

And whatso’er he did, she did dislike,

And all his kindness she with scorns did slight,

Cross every word she would that he did say,

Seem’d very sick, complaining every day

Unless she went abroad, then she would be

In humour good, in other Company.

Then he would sigh, and call into his minde

His dear dead Wife that was so wondrous kinde;

He jealous grew, and was so discontent,

Soon of his later Marriage did repent;

With Melancholy Thoughts fell sick and dy’d;

His Wife soon after was anothers Bride.

A man a walking did a Lady spy;

To her he went, and when he came hard by;

“Fair Lady,” said he, “why walk you alone?”

“Because,” said she, “my Thoughts are then my own;

For B4r 7

For in a company my Thoughts do throng,

And follow every foolish babbling Tongue.”

“Your Thoughts,” said he, “were boldness for to ask.”

“To tell,” said she, “it were too great a task:”

“But yet to satisfie your Minde,” said she,

“I’le tell you how our Thoughts run commonly.

Sometimes they mount up to the Heavens high,

Then straight fall down, and on the Earth will lye;

Then circling runs to compass all they may,

And then sometimes they all in heaps do stay;

At other times they run from place to place,

As if they had each other in a Chace;

Sometimes they run as Phansie doth them guide,

And then they swim as in a flowing Tide:

But if the Minde be discontent, they flow

Against the Tide, their Motion’s dull and slow.”

“O Sir,” said she, “it’s Labour without end,

We cannot Constant be to any Friend;

We seem to love to death, but ’tis not so,

Because our Passions moveth to and fro;

They are not fix’d, but do run all about;

Every new Object thrusts the former out:

Yet we are fond, and for a time so kinde,

As nothing in the World should change our minde:

But if Misfortune come, we weary grow,

Then former Fondness we away straight throw;

Although the Object alter not, yet may

Time alter our fond Minds another way;

We love, and like, and hate, and cry,

Without a Cause, or Reason why.

Wherefore go back, for you shall never finde

Any Woman to have a Constant Minde;

The best that is shall hold out for a time,

Wavering like Winde, which Women hold no Crime.”

There was a Noble Man that had a Wife,

Young, Fair, and Virtuous, yet so short a life;

For after she had married been a year,

A Daughter born, which Daughter cost her dear:

No sooner born, the Mother laid in Bed,

Before her Lord could come, his Wife was dead;

Where at the sight he did not tear his Hair,

Nor beat his Breast, nor sigh, nor shed a Tear;

Nor buried her in state, as many do,

And with that Funeral Charge a new Wife wo:

But silently he laid her in a Tombe,

Where by her side he meant to have a Room;

For by no other side he meant to lye,

But as in Life, in Death keep Company

The whil’st he of his Daughter care did take,

And fond he was ev’n for his dear Wifes sake:

But Grief upon his spirits had got hold

Consum’d him more than Age that makes Men old;

His Flesh did waste, his Manly Strength grew weak;

His Face grew pale, and faintly did he speak;

As C1r 9

As most that in a deep Consumption are,

When Hective Feavers with Life makes a war;

And though he joy’d he had not long to live,

Yet for to leave his Daughter young did grieve;

For he no Kindred had to take a care

Of his young Child, and Strangers he did fear

They would neglect their Charge, not see her bred

According to her birth when he was dead,

Or rob her of her wealth, or else would sell

Her to a Husband which might use her ill,

Or else by Servants brib’d, might her betray

With some mean Man, and so might run away.

These thoughts of his his minde did much torment,

And her ill fortunes did his thoughts present.

At last he did conclude, if any be

True, Just, and full of Generosity,

’Twas such as like were to the Gods on high,

As powerfull Princes and dread Majestie.

The Kingdomes King was dead, but left to reign

His widowed Queen, who prudent did maintain

The Government, though forreign Wars she had,

Which was a Charge and oft-times made her sad.

This Noble Man sent to the Queen to crave

That she upon his Child would pity have,

To take her to the Court, there to be bred,

That none might wrong her after he was dead.

The Queen most willingly his suit did sign,

And so in peace his Soul he did resign.

This Lady young did to the Court repair,

Where she was bred with tender love and care;

And Youth that’s bred in Courts may wisest be,

Because they more do hear, and more do see

Than other Children, that are bred obscure,

Because the Senses are best Tutors sure.

But Nature in this Maid had done her part,

And in her frame had shew’d her curious Art,

Compos’d her every way, Body and Minde,

Of best Extracts that were to form Mankinde;

All which she gave to Time for to distill,

And of the subtil’st Spirits the Soul to fill

With Reason, Wit, and Judgement, and to take

The solid’st part the Body for to make.

C For C1v 10

For though that Nature all her works shapes out,

Yet Time doth give strength, length and breadth about.

And as her Person grew in stature tall,

And that her Beauty did increase withall,

So did Affection in her Heart grow high,

Which there was planted in her Infancy.

There was a subject Prince within the Land,

Although but young, the Army did command;

He being chose for Birth, Wealth, Valour, Wit,

And Prudence for to leade and martial it,

The whil’st his Father did the Queen assist

To manage State-affairs, as knowing best

The Kingdomes Constitutions, and Natures bad

Of Common People, who are sometimes mad,

And wildly in distempers ruins brings,

For most Rebellions from the Commons springs.

But he so just and loyally did serve

His Queen and Country, as he did preserve

Himself within her Favour, and her Love,

As great Respect, and honour’d Praise did prove;

And in the Wars his Son such Fame did get,

As in her Chariot he triumphant sate:

For he was Valiant, and of Nature free,

Courteous, and full of Generosity;

His Wit was quick, yet so as to delight,

Not for to cross, or in Disputes to fight;

For gallant Sword-men that do fight in War,

Do never use their Tongues to make a jar.

He was exact in Body and in Minde,

For no defects in either could you finde.

The Queen, that had a Neece both young and fair,

Did strive to match her to this Prince and Heir

Of all his Father’s Wealth, who had such store,

As all the Nobles else did seem but poor;

And the young Princess lik’d so well the choyce,

As thoughts of marrying him did her rejoyce;

And through her Eyes such Messages Love sent,

On smiling Rayes, and posting Glances went.

The other Lady hearing the Report,

For every one did talk of it in Court;

Besides, she saw his Person still attend

Upon the Princess, and did Presents send;

And C2r 11

And every day to visit her did go,

As being commanded by his Father so.

At which she sad and melancholy grew,

Yet her Disease not thorowly she knew.

Like as a Plant that from the Earth doth spring,

Sprouts high, before a blown Flower doth bring:

So did her Love in bud obscurely lye,

Not any one as yet did it descry,

Nor did the Prince the least affection finde,

She being reserv’d in action, and in minde.

Sober she was, and of a bashfull look,

Of but few words, but great observance took;

By which observ’d, for Love hath a quick Eye,

And often by the Countenance doth spye

The hidden Thoughts, that the Tongue dare not tell,

For in the Minde obscurity doth dwell:

But yet she did espy something lay cross

To his desires, but guess’d not what it was:

But griev’d that any thing should him displease;

For those that love, do wish their Lov’d much ease;

Nay so much ease, as torments would endure,

If their Love benefit receive could sure.

But she grew restless, and her Thoughts did run

About him, as about the World the Sun;

For he was her World, and wish’d her Love

Had influence, as Planets from above,

To order his affections, and to bring

From several Causes one Effect to spring;

And the Effect, that he might love her so

As love her best, or at least he might know

How well she lov’d him, for she wish’d no more

Then love for love, as Saints which do adore

The Gods in Heaven, which love so pure,

Can nothing of the drossy flesh endure

At last she and her Thoughts in Counsel sate,

What best was to be done of this or that;

And they did all agree her Love to own,

Since innocent and pure, to make it known

By her Epistles, and her Pen, to write

What her pure heart did dictate and indite;

No forfeit of her Modesty, because

She had no ends, but onely Virtuous Laws.

C2 Then C2v 12

Then took she Pen and Paper, and her wit

Did tell her Love the truth, and thus she writ.

Sir, you may wonder much that I do send

This Letter, which by Love doth recommend

It self and suit unto your judging ear,

And that it was not stopt by bashfull fear.

But let me tell you, this pure Love of mine

Is built on virtue, not on base design;

It hath no dross, nor high ambitions spire,

The flame is made by emaculate fire,

Which to the Altar of your merits bring,

From whence the flame to Heaven high may spring.

Your glorious Fame within my Heart, though young,

Did plant a Slip of Honour, from whence sprung

Pure Love, and Chast Desire, for I do crave

Onely within your Heart a place to have.

I do not plead, hoping to be your Wife,

Nor ’twixt you and your Mistris to breed strife;

Or wish I that her Love you should forsake.

Or unto me a Courtly Friendship make;

But onely when I’m dead, you would inshrine

Within your Memory this Love of mine;

Which Love to all the World I may proclaim

Without a blush, or check, or spotted fame.

’Tis not your Person I do so admire,

Nor yet your Wealth, or Titles I desire;

But your Heroick Soul, and Generous Minde,

Your Affability, and Nature kinde;

Your honest Heart, where Justice still doth reign,

Your prudent Thoughts, and a well temper’d Brain;

Your helping Hand, and your industrious Life,

Not to make broyls, but to decide all strife;

And to advance all those are in distress,

To help the weak, and those are powerless;

For which my Heart and Life to Love is bound,

And every thought of you with Honour crown’d.

These are not feigning Lines that here I write,

But Truths as clear and pure as Heavens light;

Nor is it Impudence to let you know,

Love of your Virtues in my Soul doth grow.

Her Love thus innocent she did enrole,

Which was the pure Platonick of her Soul;

Though C3r 13

Though in black Characters the Envious may

Call the sense clear, as is the mornings day,

And every word appear unto the sight,

To make her smoother Paper yet more white.

Thus she infolded Honour, and more Truth,

Than ever yet was known in female youth.

Blush colour’d Silk her Letter then did binde,

For to express how modest was her Minde;

And Virgins Wax did close it with her Seal,

Yet did that Letter all her Love reveal.

Then to her Nurses Husband she did trust,

These loving Lines, knowing him faithfull, just:

To all her Family, obey’d her will,

And would do so, I doubt, though t’had been ill:

For his Obedience never ask’d the cause,

Nor was he Casuist in Divine Laws,

But faithfull and most trusty: so was sent,

With this most sacred Letter, then he went.

In the mean time that she her Letter sent,

The Prince to her a Letter did present

By a Servant, in whom he put much trust,

As finding him both dextrous, prudent, just

In all imployments; he this Letter brought,

Which ’mongst this Ladies thoughts much wonder wrought;

Even so much, as she could not believe,

But thought he did mistake, and did conceive

She was the Princess. Whereupon, said she,

I doubt this Letter was not writ to me.

But he confirm’d to her that it was writ:

Then to her Closet went, and open’d it;

With trembling hands the Waxen Seal she broke,

And what he writ, with a faint voyce thus spoke.

Fairest of your Sex, for so you are

Unto all others as a Blazing Star,

Which shews it self, and to the World appears

As a great Wonder, once in many years;

And never comes, but doth portend on Earth

Either the fall of Princes, or their Birth.

O let your influence onely at me aim,

Not for to work my overthrow or fame,

But Love, to make me happy all my life;

Then yeild your self to be my Virtuous Wife:

C3 But C3v 14

But if you (this request) to me deny,

The Gods, I hope, will grant me soon to dye.

But when she this had read, was in a daze,

As senslesly did on the Letter gaze,

By which her Spirits discomposed were,

In quarrelling disputes, ’twixt Hope and Fear:

At last Hope got the better; then did they

Triumph with joy, and in her Heart did play.

For when the Spirits mutually agree,

Both in the Eye and Heart they dancing be.

Then to the Gentleman that came, she went,

And told him civilly that she had sent

Unto the Prince, and that she could not fit

So well an Answer to return as yet.

The Prince as melancholy sate alone,

But all the while his Mistris thought upon;

Staid for the Messenger’s return, for he,

Till Answer came, refus’d all Company.

At last one of his Pages to him came, than,

Told him without there was an antient Man,

That would not be deny’d, for speak he must

Unto the Prince, or else must break his trust

He was in charge with, and rather than so,

Would venture life before he back would go,

And not his Message to the Prince to tell.

Whereat the Prince, liking his Courage well,

Sent for him, who came with humility,

The Letter gave upon his bended Knee.

The Prince the Letter read, and pleased so,

As by his smiling Countenance did shew;

Which made all cloudy thoughts disperse, and clears

His minde, as in dark dayes when Sun appears.

“Sure,” said the Prince, “the Gods our Loves decree,

And in our Unions they do all agree;

They joyn our Hearts in one, our Souls so mix,

As if eternally in Heaven would fix.”

Then soon he all delayes for to prevent,

Another Letter writ, which to her sent

In answer of her own; this Letter gave

Unto her Foster Nurse, who was as grave

As old bald Father Time, of Courage stout,

A rustick plainness, and not eas’ly out

Of C4r 15

Of countenance, ready to be imploy’d,

And in his Ladies service would have dy’d:

The Prince commended his fidelity,

And pleas’d he was at his blunt quality:

But with the Letter quickly did return,

For he, though old, yet every step did run;

And then the Letter which the Prince had sent,

He to his Lady did in mirth present.

But she the Letter broke with joyfull speed,

And to her Foster-Nurse she did it read.

Sweetest, you have exprest your Love to me

With so much plainness and sincerity;

And yet your stile severely have you writ,

And rul’d your Lines with a Commanding Wit;

Heroick Flourishes your Pen doth draw

Or executes as in a Martial Law:

Then solemnly doth march in mourning trail,

And melancholy words all hopes do vail.

As golden dust on written lines strewn were,

Your written Lines seem sprinkled with a Tear;

As by the heart of passion spread about,

For fear that Cruelty should blot it out.

But let me tell you, that my love is such

As never Lover loved half so much;

And with so fervent Zeal, and purest Flame,

Nay something above Love, that wants a name;

For to express it, like to Gods on high,

For who can comprehend a Deity?

And though I honour all your Sex, yet I,

Having another Mistris, I deny,

Besides your self; and though I do obey

To visit the fair Princess, nothing say

Concerning Love, nor yet professions make,

As common Lovers, promise for her sake

Wonders, and yet my Life to her will give

To do her service: but whil’st I do live,

My Heart and Soul is yours, and when I dye,

Still will my Soul keep yours in company;

Though by Honour my active life is bound

Unto your Sex, you onely will be found

Within my Heart, and onely Love to be,

From whence my Brain doth Copies take of thee;

On C4v 16

On which my Soul doth view with much delight,

Because the Soul sees not with vulgar sight.

For Souls do see, not as the Senses do:

But as transparent Glass, the Minds quite through;

Or rather, as the Gods see all that’s past,

Present, or what’s to come, or the World vast,

Or what can be, to them is known,

And so are Souls to one another shewn;

And if our Souls do equally agree,

Our Thoughts and Passions to each known will be.

But after this Letter they both did get

An opportunity, by which they met:

No complemental wooing they did use,

True Love all flattering words it doth refuse.

But they agreed, and both did think it fit,

Their love to hide, not to discover it.

At last the Queen and Father did agree,

The Prince and Princess straight should married be;

Nor made a question, for they doubted not

But Youth and Beauty had each other shot

With amorous Loves. But when the Prince made known

How that his Heart was now none of his own,

His Father seem’d with trouble discontent:

But the inraged Queen, with malice bent,

Did strive all wayes she could for to disgrace

The sweet young Lady, oft disprais’d her face;

Her Person, Dress, Behaviour, and her Wit,

And for to match with such a Prince not fit.

The Princes Love so firm, no words could break,

Impatiently did hear, but little speak:

But when the Princess heard the Prince to be

A Lover to another Lady, then did she

Tear, rail, and rave, as if she frantick were,

And of her Rival words she would not spare.

One day a Company of Nobles met,

And in a Room they were together set;

The Prince and his fair Mistris she did spy,

And often at them cast a spightfull eye.

At last her Malice set awork her Tongue,

And at the Prince she evil words out flung;

Which he receiv’d with a submissive face,

Turning those scorns as favours of her grace.

But D1r 17

But when she had with scorns his patience tried

She, for to vent her spleen, in passion cried;

Some of the company there jesting by,

The other Lady ask’d if she would cry;

She answer made, she had not the like cause

Nor had she broke the modest civill Laws;

But if her passion had misled her tongue,

She should have wept to water, or else flung

Her self to dust, for want of moisture die,

Unless her life could issue through her eye.

But when the Prince perceiv’d such storms to rise,

And showring tears to fall from beauteous eyes

He did absent himself, and shun’d to be

A trouble to the Princes company:

But when the Queen had tried all means she could

To alter his affections, nothing would;

She then their Marriage strove for to prevent,

And to the Army she the Prince soon sent;

Then order gave not to return again,

But with the Army there for to remain.

He to his Mistris went, his leave to take,

Perswading her a journey she would make

Unto the Army, and there to agree,

When that they meet, straight married for to be;

At last she did resolve to leave the Court,

And privately her self for to transport

Her Person to the Prince where he was gone

For ne’r till then she found her self alone;

When the Army began for to retire

To winter-quarters, he did there desire

His Mistris company, and then did write

To those he had intrusted, how they might

Convey her safely; but by some mistake

The Queen did intercept, his Letter take,

Which when she read, all in a rage she grew

And then his Letter into fire threw.

When she her Neice had told, they both did strive,

And both in Councill sate, for to contrive

To hinder her wish’d meeting; wherefore they

Did think it best, the Lady to convey

Unto some private place, and then give out

That she was dead, which soon was spred about,

D And D1v 18

And every one in censuring spent some breath,

And most did judge she died a violent death.

But the Queens anger only would destroy

Their loves, because her Neice she should enjoy

The Prince, on whom her heart in love was set,

And us’d all means she could, his Love to get:

And though at first they thought the Prince might mourn,

Yet when his grief had been, by time; out-worn,

He then might take the Princess for his Wife,

Concealing the young Lady all her life;

And though they did not murther her, yet they

Did strive to grieve, and cross her every way;

Wherefore they did agree that some should tell

Her, that the Prince in Battell fell.

But her report of death, spread far and near,

At last it came unto the Prince his ear;

The news strook him so hard, as it did make

His strength grow weak, and manly limb, to shake,

But when his strength return’d, his mind sad grew,

And from all company himself withdrew;

No Orders he would give, but left the care

Of all the Army to an Officer.

From the Army without the Queens consent

He did return, and to his Father went,

And told him he all worldly things did wave,

Had buri’d them all in his Mistris Grave,

And the remainder of his daies would spend

In holy devotion, his Praiers would send

Unto the Gods, “and my dear Saint,” said he,

“Will be a Mediator there for me.”

His Father did disswade him all he could,

But all in vain, a Hermit be he would;

Instead of Palaces he chose a Cell,

Left Courts and Camps, did solitary dwell;

Instead of Clothes that rich and costly were,

He wore a Garment made of Camells hair,

Instead of Arms, a Hermits Habit took,

And for a Sword, he us’d a Praier book

Instead of treading Measures in a dance,

And wanton eyes that oft would side-waies glance;

His knees upon hard stone did bowing bend,

And his sad eyes unto the Earth descend;

Instead D2r 19

Insteed of flattering words to tempt Maids fair,

No words did speak but what were us’d in Praier,

All wild and wandering Thoughts were now compos’d,

And the dead object of his Mistris clos’d,

Like Multitudes that gather in a Ring

To view some curious or some wondrous thing;

Or like a devout Congregation met

Will strive about the Altar neer to set;

So did his Thoughts neer her Idea get,

Where, as a Goddess, in his Soul did set;

Then he an Altar built of Marble white,

Which waxen Tapers round about did light;

Her Picture on this Altar plac’d was high,

As to be seen with an up-lifted eye.

She was his Saint, and he there every day

Did offer Tears, and Sighs, to her did pray,

And her implore, she would the Gods request

To take his Soul, his Body lay to rest.

In the mean time, his Mistris made believe

That he was kill’d, for which she much did grieve;

For when she at the first the news did heare,

Her face turn’d pale, like death it did appear.

Then gently sinking, she fell to the ground,

Grief seiz’d her heart and put her in a swound;

At last, life got the better, and then wept,

And wisht to Heaven that she in death had slept;

But Melancholy her whole Soul possest,

And of all pleasing Thoughts it self divest;

All Objects shun’s that Pleasing were and fair,

And all such sounds as were of a light Air,

The splendrous Light and glorious Sun shut out,

And all her Chamber hung with black about,

No other light but blinking Lamps would have,

And Earth and Turf therein, like to a Grave;

The which she often view’d, or sate close by,

Imagining the Prince therein did lye,

And on that Grave her tears, like showrs of rain,

Keep fresh the Turfe, on the green grasse remain

As pearled dew before the Sun doth rise,

Or as refreshing showers from cloudy Skyes;

And often this supposed Grave doth dresse

With such significant flow’rs as did expresse

D2 His D2v 20

His Virtues and his Disposition sweet,

More than those Flowers when in Posies meet.

His various Virtues known to all so well,

More fragrant than those Flowers were for smell,

But first she set a Laurel Garland green,

To shew that he a Victor once had been;

And in the midst a {Handwritten deletion: copious} end of handwritten deletion {Handwritten addition: cyprese} end of handwritten addition Branch did place,

For to express he dyed in the chase

Of his fierce enemies; his Courage was so true,

That, after a long fight, away they flew.

Thus melancholly past her time away,

Besides sad solemn Musick twice a day;

For every Sense with melancholly fill’d,

And alwaies dropping tears from thence distill’d,

With which her melancholly Soul did feed,

And melancholly thoughts her mind did breed;

Then on the ground her head aside-waies hung,

Would ly along whilst these sad songs were song.

But all the while the Queen was angry bent

Against the Prince, because away he went,

And left the Army without a General,

For which she Rebell Traitor him did call;

But she another General did make,

Which of the Army he a charge did take;

Yet his success in Warrs proved but bad,

For afterward the Queen great losses had,

D3 And D3v 22

And all the Souldiers they were discontent;

Whereat the Queen another General sent,

But he no better Fortune More could meet,

The Enemy did force him to retreat;

Then did the Enemy so pow’rful grow,

The Forces of the Queen they overthrow

In every Fight and Skirmish which they had;

For which the Queen and Kingdome all grew sad;

At last the Queen the Prince did flatter, and

Intreated him again for to Command,

But he deny’d the Queen, would not obey,

Said, earthly Power to Gods they must give way:

At last she sent him word she would not spare

His life, and therefore bid him to prepare

Himself for death, for dye he should

For Disobedience, and Revenge she would

Have on him; Then his Father to him went

For to perswade him, and there did present

Show’rs of tears, from sorrow pouring fell

Upon his only Son his greif to tell:

For round about his Neck one Arm did wind,

The other arm embrac’d his Body kind,

His Cheeks his Sonn did joyn to his,

And often he his Lipps did kiss.

“O pitty me my Sonn, and thy life spare,

Thou art my onely Child, and onely Heir,

Th’ art my sole Joy, in thee I pleasure take,

And wish to live but onely for thy sake.”

The Prince his Father answer’d and said he,

“I am not worth those tears you shed for me,

But why do you thus weep and thus lament

For my death now? When to the Warrs I went

You did encourage me to fight in field

For Victory, or else my life to yield;

I willingly obey’d, and joy’d to finde

My Father Sympathy unto my minde;

Besides it shew’d a greater love to me

Than Parents selfe-lov’d fondness us’d to be,

For to preferr my Honour and my Fame

Before the perpetuity of your Name.

And as you priz’d my Honour and Renown,

So do a Heavenly ’fore an Earthly Crown,

And D4r 23

And give me leave the better choice to make;

To quit all troubles, and sweet Peace to take;

I nere shall part more willingly, nor fitter be

For Heaven, and the Gods pure company.

For had I di’d in Wars, my soul had been

Stained With blood, and spotted o’re with sin:

But now my Mistris, is a Saint in Heaven,

Hath intercession made, my sins forgiven,

And since shee’s gone, all Joyes with her are fled,

And I shall never happy be till dead;

She was my souls delight, in her I view’d

The pure and Celestial beatitude.

But were I sure the soul that never dies,

Should never meet, nor Bodies never rise

By Resurrection, yet sure those were blest

That past this life, and in the Grave do rest.”

Then said the Duke, his Father, to his Son,

“What ever comes Son, Heavens will be done,

But since you are resolv’d, and needs will dye,

I, in the Grave, will keep you company.”

The young Prince said, “I cannot you disswade,

Since none are happy but those Death hath made.”

The day of execution drawing nigh

Of the young Prince, his Father too would dye.

Then the young Prince askt leave, and leave he had,

That he like to a Souldier might be clad,

When he was brought to dye, and on that day

Death he did meet in Souldierly Array;

Instead of mourning garments, he had on

A sute of Buff, embroidered thick upon

And a rich Scarfe that was of watchet dye,

Set thick with Pearls, instead of strings to tie

It close together were Diamonds so

As like a Ring or Garter it did show,

Of one entire Diamond, this did bind

The Scarf so firm as an united minde;

A scarlet Coat imbroidered thick with Gold,

And Hangers like to it his Sword did hold,

And in his hat a Plume of Fethers were;

In falling folds, which hung below his Hair;

Thus he being accouter’d death to meet

In gallantry, yet Gently, Friendly, Sweet,

He D4v 24

He should imbrace him, and gladly yield,

Yet would he dye as Souldiers in the field;

For gallant valiant men do court Death so

As amorous courtly men a wooing go.

His Father all in mourning garments clad,

Not griev’d to dye, but for his Son was sad;

Millions of people throng’d about to see

This gallant mourning Princes Tragedie;

But in the time these preparations were,

The Queen sent to th’young Lady to prepare

Her self to dy; when she the news did hear,

Joy in her countenance did then appear;

Then she her self did dress like to a Bride,

And in a rich and gilded Coach did ride,

Thus triumphing as on her wedding day

To meet her Bridegroome Death; but in the way

The people all did weep that she should dye,

Such Youth and Beauty in Deaths arms should lye.

But she did smile, her countenance was glad,

And in her eyes such lively spirits had

As the quick darting raies the Sun out-shin,

And all she look’d on for a time were blind

But when the Queen and Nobles all were set,

And the condemned on the Scaffold met,

Where when the Lovers they each other spi’d

Their eyestrings seem’d as if together ti’d

So firmly were they fix’d, and did so gaze

And with each other strook in such amaze,

As if with wonder they were turn’d to stone,

And that their feet unto the ground were grown

(They could not stir) but at the last mov’d he

In a slow pace, amazed went to see

That Heavenly object, who thought it may

An Angel be, his Soul to take away.

Her limbs did shake like shivering Agues cold,

For fear upon her spirit had got hold:

When he came neer, he kneeled down to pray,

And thus unto her softly did he say,

With that the Queen did come their doubts to clear;

“It was my plot,” said she, “to bring you here,

And why I crost your loves, I will forbear

To tell as now, but afterwards declare;”

Then did she cause a Priest to joyn their hands,

Which he devoutly ty’d in wedlock bands.

Then did the Queen unto her Nobles say,

That she a debt to Gratitude must pay,

And to the Princes Father strait she went,

“Here Sir,” said she “I do my selfe present

To be your Wife, for by your counsell I

Have Rul’d and Raign’d in great felicity”

He kneelling kist her hand, and both agree

That in few daies the Wedding kept should be.

Such joyes of acclamation loud of wonder,

Echoed the Air lowder than is Joves Thunder.

Her Princely Niece so noble was, that then

For joy she modestly threw up her Fann,

Since to a high-born Prince knew well that she

Shortly in glorious Nuptialls she should be.

There was a Lady, Virtuous, Young, and Fair,

Unto her Father onely Child and Heir;

In her Behaviour modest, sweet, and civil,

So innocent, knew onely Good from Evil;

Yet in her carriage had a Majestick Grace,

And affable and pleasant was her Face.

Another Gentleman as neighbouring dwelt

Hard by her Father’s House which there was built;

Who had a Son such Beauty did adorn,

As some might think of Venus he was born;

His Spirit Noble, Generous, and Great,

By nature Valiant, Dispositions sweet;

His Wit ingenious, and his Breeding such,

Arts, Sciences of Pedantry no touch.

This Noble Gentleman in Love did fall

With this fair Lady, who was pleas’d withall;

He courted her, his Service did address,

His Love by Words and Letters did express;

Though she seem’d Coy, his Love she did not slight,

But Civil Answers did in Letters write.

At last so well acquainted they did grow,

As but one Heart each others Thoughts did know.

Mean time their Parents did their Loves descry,

And sought alwayes to break that Unity;

Forbid each others company frequent,

Did all they could Loves Meetings to prevent:

But Love regards not Parents, nor their Threats;

For Love, the more ’tis barr’d, more Strength begets.

Thus being cross’d, by stealth they both did meet,

With privacy did make their Love more sweet;

Although their Fears did oft affright their Minde,

Lest that their Parents should their walks out finde:

But in the Kingdome did Rebellion spring,

Most of the Commons fought against their King;

E2 And E2v 28

And all the Gentry that there Loyal were,

Did to the Standard of the King repair

Amongst the rest this Noble Youth was one,

Love bid him stay, but Honour spurr’d him on;

When he declar’d his Minde, her Heart it rent,

Rivers of Tears out of her Eyes grief sent;

When every Tear like Bullets pierc’d his Breast,

Scatter’d his Thoughts, and did his Minde molest.

Silent long time they stood at last spake he,

“Why doth my Love with Tears so torture me:”

“Why do you blame my Eyes,” said she, “to weep,

Since they perceive you Faith nor Promise keep?

For did you love but half so true as I,

Rather than part, would choose to stay and dye:

But you Excuses make, and take delight;

Like cruel Thieves, to rob and spoyl by Night;

Now you have stole my Heart, away you run,

And leave a silly Virgin quite undone.

If I stay from the Wars, what will Men say:

They’ll say I make excuse to be away;

By this Reproach a Coward I am thought,

And my Disgrace will make you seem in fault,

To set your Love upon a Man so base,

Bring Infamy to us, and to our Race.

To sacrifice my Life for your content

I would not spare; but (Dear) in this consent,

’Tis for your sake Honour I strive to win,

That I some Merit to your Worth may bring.”

He.

“Dear Love, that must not be, for Women are

Of tender Bodies, and Minds full of Fear;

Besides, my Minde so full of Care will be,

For fear a Bullet should once light on thee,

That I shall never fight, but strengthless grow,

Through feeble Limbs be subject to my Foe.

When E3r 29

When thou art safe, my Spirits high shall raise,

Striving to get a Victory or Praise.”