Euterpe revived, or, Epigrams made at several times in the years 1672, 1673, & 1674 on persons of the greatest honour and quality most of them now living : in III books. Flecknoe, Richard, d. 1678? 1675 Approx. 119 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 53 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2004-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A39713 Wing F1222 ESTC R27364 09818796 ocm 09818796 44186 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A39713) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 44186) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1357:5) Euterpe revived, or, Epigrams made at several times in the years 1672, 1673, & 1674 on persons of the greatest honour and quality most of them now living : in III books. Flecknoe, Richard, d. 1678? [2], 98 p. are to be sold by the booksellers of London and Westminster, London : 1675. Attributed to Richard Flecknoe--NUC pre-1956 imprints. Reproduction of original in the Harvard University Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Epigrams, English. 2003-08 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2003-09 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-10 Rina Kor Sampled and proofread 2003-10 Rina Kor Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-12 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion EUTERPE Revived . OR , Epigrams Made at several Times , In the years 1672 , 1673 , & 1674 On persons of the greatest Honour and Quality , Most of them now living . In III BOOKS . Printed at LONDON , And are to be sold by the Booksellers of London and Westminster . 1675. THE Preface . I Publish these Epigrams , as I make them , the last the first ; which may excuse me , if I rank them accordingly . They are every year a new Work , by adding the new unto the old ; and behold those of this present year . Their Subject is chiefly Heroick , as are the persons whose praises they contain . And I writ them chiefly to let the World know , That as we want not many praise-worthy persons , so ther want not some to praise them for 't . And that you may not think me ambitious of names , I mention none , but those I have the honour to know , and be known unto . For the Style , you are no more to expect the force and grandeur of Epick and Heroick Poems , in an Epigram , than the force of a Ship of War , or grandeur of a huge Carrack in a Yaught , or Pleasure-boat . Suffice it , if it be such as I describe in this Epigram . What Ayres in point of Musick are , the same In point of writing is your Epigram , Short , quick , and sprightly ; and both these and those When th' Ear expects it , comes unto a close . 'T is but few lines , but those like Gold well-try'd , Out of the dross of many lines beside ; And Poetry's language of the gods , but these In brief , the language of the Oracles . 'T is short , but in its shortness does comprize The Point of Wit , wherein the sharpness lies . And 's nothing worth if any thing be sed , Or tedious , dull , or vulgar-spirited . Poets can't write , nor Orators declame , But all their Wit , is chiefly Epigram . In fine , in Verse , and Prose , and every thing , Your Epigram is writing for a King. Some may mislike them perhaps , because they treat not of Love , nor Love-matters ; but others may like them the better ; and for my part , since the itch of lascivious love is but the scab of Poetry , I should be sorry any one should find in my Writings , that I with my scratching had exulcerated it . TO His Majesty . VOuchsafe , Great Sire , on these to cast Your sight , Made chiefly for Your MAJESTIES delight , By him has cast off all Ambition , But pleasing and delighting You alone ; Counting it highest Honour can befall , To delight Him who 's the Delight of all . The first Book of EPIGRAMS , Written An. 1673. On the Duke of ORMOND's going along with the KING in Banishment . WHen I but onely mention Ormond's Name , Methinks it is enough of Epigram . Ormond , who never left the KING , but went Alwayes along with Him in Banishment ; Whil'st many in that dark and cloudy Time , Made too great difference 'twixt the KING and him . So nearer Garments never quit their Master When stormy winds do blow , but stick the faster ; While light and looser ones , like Scarfs , they find , Are blown away with every storm of wind . And so the KING rewards him now , we see , With nearest Trust , for his Fidelity , Who well discerns the difference betwixt them Who follow His Fortune , and who follow Him : And knows that who in adverse Times ne'r leave Him , Are those in prosp'rous Times will ne'r deceive Him. To the Earl of OSSORY , on his Return from SEA , An. 73. MY LORD , YOur Friends are glad y' ar safely come ashore , And all desire you 'd go to Sea no more : Nor put your Life in danger to be lost On Forreign Seas , nor on a Forreign Coast. What need you go ? Y 'ave hazarded enough , And put your Valour to th' extremest proof : And as for Honour , y 'ave by Land such store , You need not go to Sea , to purchase more . If 't be to serve your Countrey that you go , There 's none so ignorant who does not know You , with your head may serve it more by Land , Than ever any at Sea did with their hand . In fine , The Brave and Noble Ossory Is known and honoured enough by Sea ; And now the Land desires to have its share Of knowing and of honouring him there . To the Lady MARY CANDISH . MADAM , IN this our Age , when thar so Critick grown , They seek to find out spots even in the Moon And Sun it self , I scarce should be believ'd If I should tell how virtuously y 'ave liv'd , Pure as a Chrystal mirrour , chaste as Ice , And full as free from stain or spot of Vice. Nor Stars in Heaven , nor Ermins on the Snow , In all their wayes could more unblemisht go . One who the Secret and Receipt has got To silence Rumour , and stop Slanders Throat , When everywhere th' ar so outragious grown , To bark and bite at Fames of every one : The onely Sanctuary where Vertu 's free , And Feminin Honour safe ; and finally The best example of a Virgins life , And perfect pattern of a married Wife . These are your praises , and you may contest With any of your Sex for all the rest . To JAMES Duke of MONMOUTH , begun at his going into France , An. 1669 , and ended at his coming from the Siege of Maestricht , An. 1673. VVE to the French as much in Court did yield , As they to us did formerly i' th' Field , Till Manmouth went , and overcame them more I' th' Court , than e'r we did i' th' Field before . How fatal to the French is Monmouth's Name ! They shu'd be twice thus Conquer'd by the same : By Valour first in War , and now no less A second time , by Gallantry in Peace . Now Noble Monmouth , Was it not enough That thou in Court shu'dst give so great a proof How gallant and how brave thou wert , but thou I' th' Field shu'dst give no less a proof of 't too ? Since thou so early dost begin to tread The paths of Virtue which to Honour lead ; From this great Valour , and great Soul of thine , What may the World expect of thee in time , But for our glory thou shu'dst Conquer more Than ever Harry Monmouth did before ? To the Duke of ALBEMARLE , going to SEA. IN these our Warlike Times , when every one Is going to Sea , and shames to stay at home , Your King and Countrey have more care than so Amongst the rest , my Lord , to let you go . For th' honour which your Father left you , is Not only yours , but your Posterities , And they , as his Trustees , concerned ar , Till y 'ave an Heir , you shu'd not go to War. Like falling Palaces which none repairs Their Honours are , whose Houses have no Heirs ▪ And they but build without foundation , Who have no Heirs to found their Houses on . They know upon what ground you found your Right Of being a Souldier , and of going to fight . But if born of a General , as you ar , You think y 'ave so great Right to go to War , Your Son will have a greater Right than you , Not only born o' th' Race of one , but two . These are their chiefest Arguments , and how You 'll answer them , my Lord , I do not know . To FRANCES Dutchess of RICHMOND , on her Widowhood . YOu like a Turtle when her Mate is gone , All sad and mourning , Madam , sit alone ; Or if there 's ought more sad and mourning , yet You , Madam , well may be compar'd to it . Y' ar all alone , and every one does know It best becomes a Phoenix to be so ; And you ar one , as in all states of Life Y 'ave well declar'd , both Widow , Maid and Wife : Only in this you want of being one , You 'll leave the World no Phoenix when y' ar gone ; But make Arabia Desert wanting you , Who only make it happy Arabia now . But if of Stuarts Name , Heaven has decreed No more to Richmond's Title shu'd succeed ; As with the Noblest person it begun , It ne'r cou'd end with a more Noble one . To ELIZABETH , Countess of ARUNDEL and SURREY . MADAM , YOu alwayes have so virtuously been bred , And such a virtuous life have alwayes led , Virtue is to you as Con-natural As life and being is unto us all . Let others praise you then for other things , As being descended from the Race of Kings ; I 'll praise you for the virtues of your mind , The true descendents of a Nobler kind ; Which you have so sublim'd , y 'ave raised all The Cardinal ones to Theological ; And Virtue 's virtue in others , but in you , Not only Virtue , but Religion too . And here I 'd praise you for your Piety , But 't is of late in so great obloquy With th' vulgar sort , 't is only look't upon As Relique of the Old Religion , Or Counterbanded Goods , which none , for fear Of the Pragmatick , longer dares to wear ; Neither should I be safe , if I should praise A thing that 's held so dangerous now adayes : Let Angels only priase you for it then , Since 't is too bold and high a praise for men . To the Lady GERARD of BROMLEY . MADAM , I Who have writ the praise of many a one , Whom I 've had honour to have seen and known , And alwayes had the honour 'mongst the rest , To celebrate the Noblest and the Best , This Testimony needs must give of you , ( And all who know you , know it to be true ) 'Mongst all your Sex , I never yet did meet With any , in their actions more discreet , More prudent in their words , and in their mind More nobly , nor more virtuously inclin'd . And this not ta'n of others by Report , But by mine own experience of 't . In sort As they shu'd rather be thought envious , who Don't praise you for 't , than Flatterers , who do ; Let none then think this Flattery in me , For I can't flatter , nor you flatter'd be . To the Lord JOHN BELLASIS , on his quitting all his Offices . MY LORD , IN Camps and Courts , and all the Offices Y 'ave been employ'd in , both in War and Peace , There 's none has been more fortunate than you ; But you were never happy until now , When quitting all the Offices you had , We well may say y' ar truly happy made . For all along wherever you have been , All know y 'ave still been faithful to the King. But in this latter Action you have shew'd Your self both true to th' King , and true to God : And th' King well knows there 's none that can be true To t'on , but those are so to t'other too . Mean time , my Lord , i' th' Age we live in now , Both such examples , and such men as you Were ne'r more needful in the world , more rare , Such men as you , and such examples are . To the Lady , KATHARINE SEDLEY , Daughter to Sir CHARLES SEDLEY . WHo know you , Madam , every day do find New Beauties in your person , and your mind ; And more they know you , they discover more Perfections in you than they did before . Not all the numerous Train of them , nor yet Of all the Graces in one person met , Could make a fairer , or more beautious show , In any person than they do in you . Nothing is wanting now unto the Fame Of Noble Sedley's Family and Name , Had all the masculine ones before , and now Has all the Feminine Graces in it too . So when two Sums are by Addition brought Both into one , that which before was thought Great in it self , does greater still become , By adding t'on unto the other Sum. In memory of his Noble Friend JAMES HAMILTON , who first lost his Leg at Sea , then his Life on Land , in our last Engagement with the Dutch. HOw like a huge Colossus thou didst stand , One Leg i' th' Sea , and t'other on the Land ? Betwixt which two ther being no standing fast , Brave Hamilton , thou needs must fall at last . Ah! Noble Youth ! Never Innobled more , Than when half lifeless thou wert brought ashore , And both thy King and Countrey , Friends and All , Griev'd and Lamented thy untimely fall . Who would not choose , like thee , to fall and dye , And live for 't ever after gloriously ; Than for the use of a few hours breath , To dye like others , an inglorious death ? For only War can give that happiness , Whil'st 't is no glory for to dye in Peace . To the Duke of Newcastle ; On my Lady-Dutchess writing of his LIFE : MY LORD , WHilst with your Noble Actions you Indite Unto your Ladies Pen what she shud Write , 'T may well be said , as 't was of Thetis son , That you are doubly happie , both to have done Such famous deeds , and to have had agen A Pen so famous for the writing them : And ne'r was Life more worthy to be writ , Nor Pen more worthy of the writing it . She makes you famous , and you her agen By th' famous Subject you afford her Pen : Whence 't is a Question ever will remain , Wh'er Fame makes Writers , or else Writers , Fame . So whilst you live i' th' Life that she does give , And she in writing of your Life will live ; Betwixt you both , your Fame will never die , But t' on give t' other Immortality . To DIG BY , Lord GERARD of Bromley ; Recommending to him for Motto : Virtus vere Nobilitas . MY Lord , you now unto that Age are com , Y' are almost past Pythagoras Bivium : And after , rarely any one forsakes The way of Vice or Vertue which he takes . If Vertue then be true Nobility , Ther 's a necessity that you vertuous be , Or else that Noble-man who 's otherwise , But forfeits his Nobility to Vice. Think then whatere you love , Vertue is that ; And Vice is whatsoever you most hate . To end then : If you love Nobility , Love Vertue , or you 'll never Noble be . If Baseness hate , hate to be one of those Who put base Vices on , with Noble Clothes . But I well know you bear a Noble minde , And ar unto all vertuous things inclin'd . Nature has done her part to make you so ; The rest , my Lord , depends on Heaven and you . Love Vertue then , let it your Motto be , Vertue is onely true Nobility . To Mr. HENRY JERMIN , On his Retirement into the Country . SInce Nen and Manners here ar all so bad , By their Example w'ar still worser made ; And ther ar few can keep their Innocence , Where every thing is scandal and offence . You 'r happie , Sir , who in the Country ar , And nothing see but good Example ther ; Passing your time amongst your Country-sports , More pleasantly than we in Towns and Courts , Who just as silly Sheep 'mong Bushes stray , Whilst every Bush takes part o' th' Fleece away : So never com 'mongst others , but we finde We still lose somewhat of our better minde . Our morning-thoughts are Gold , by noon th' ar Lead , And all turn'd Dross before we go to bed : Mixture with others doth abase us so , And such distractions ar wher e'r we go ; You 'r happie Sir who in the Country ar ; And would I were so happie to be ther. On A Fair Ladies NAME . ALthough ther 's none more carefully does flie Clenches and Quibbles upon Names than I ; Counting words onely the outside of Wit , Whilst matter chiefly is th' inside of it : Yet when i' th' sence o' th' Name , and in the sound , Somewhat o' th' nature of the person 's found , As is in yours , I can't but say that you Are Swift by name , and Swift by nature too : Swift in your Apprehension and Wit , And Swift in every thing belongs to it . Onely 't is strange ! being so in every thing , You shud be now so slow in Marrying . But as for that , if reason of 't they 'd know ; You think in Marrying one can't be too slow . Of PERSECUTION . I Never lik't this Persecution Onely for Conscience and Religion ; And half suspect , that where it is not free , 'T is not Religion , but Hypocrisie . Who seek to force Opinion , make men more Opiniatre than they were before : And as for Conscience , ye make it none , Unless ye leave it free for every one . What gentleness can't do , it is in vain To seek by force and violence to obtain . And 't is your Persecutors private hate , Rather than care or love unto the State. In fine , there 's none has Jurisdiction O'r minde and thoughts of men , but God alone ; And Princes pow'rs their bodies may controul , But onely God has power o'er the Soul. To a Fair Lady , On the Peoples Reports . MADAME , THe People , who sometimes on Truth do light , Although they ar not always in the right , Say y' ar a Dutchess now ; and 't is well guest , Since you deserve for to be one at least : And 't is enough of reputation , The world believes you worthy to be one . But be you fair and beauteous , as you ar , You for no other Titles need to care , Neither of Dutchesses , nor Princesses , Nor of great Queens , nor greater Empresses : The Title of fair and beauteous is more Than all those Titles they so much adore : And they ar onely earthly ones , in fine ; But that of Beauty , heavenly and divine . On an Angelical Beauty . I Must confess , before I saw your face , I never knew what perfect Beauty was ; Nor ever saw more heavenly features , nor Angelical air , in any one before . We paint Angels All face , and adde but wings Unto them , and we make them Cherubins : So adde but onely wings to yours , and you Wou'd be All Cherubin , and Angel too . The Face now being the Index of the Minde , By which we persons dispositions finde , We well may say , in seeing yours , that none Had e'r a sweeter disposition ; More milde , more gentle , nor more debonair ; And full as heavenly good , as heavenly fair . All this , from Rules of Physiognomy , Madam , which never yet deceived me . ON A Sceptick in Religion . THose who did wonder when they saw men go Walking in rooms backwards and forwards so , Would wonder more to see how thou hast gon Backwards and forwards in Religion . Thou saist we 'r bid try all , and chuse the best : But when ther 's one so far 'bove all the rest , 'T is out o' th' way of all Comparison ; Whoere is wise , should chuse or that , or none . But when the Soul is gon , and Body dead , A thousand crawling worms i' th' Corpse are bred : So when Religion 's gone , we always finde A thousand crawling Sects are left behinde . As he 's unwise , then , changes Gold for Brass , Diamonds for Peble-stones , and Gems for Glass : So he is more unwise , who chuses one Of these false Sects , for th' true Religion . In Memory of her Altezze BEATRICE de Cusance , Dutchess of LORAIN . WHen this fair Soul did in her Body live , She had some Angel been , you wou'd believe ; Thorow her bright exterior there did shine So much from her interior of divine : And now much more you wou'd believe her on , When her immortal soul to Heav'n is gon ; Towards w ch when here on earth she made such hast , Her body could not follow her so fast , But she must leave it here below to die , Whilst she went up to Immortalitie . Mean time , who had th' honour to know her here ; May , weeping , write upon her Sepulcher : She who alive all Vertue and Beauty was , T'on in her brest , and t'other in her face ; Now she is dead , just reason w 'ave to fear All Beauty and Vertue too are dead with her . To her ( now ) Incomparable Sister , The Princess of AREMBERG . ALl the Lay thoughts , I ever had Of your fair Sex , you have Religious made By seeing you ; and I 'm become by it Your Sexes honourer , and your Convertit . For just as to a Temple , all do come Unto your Chamber , and from thence go home ; The bad converted , and the good much more Confirm'd in goodness than they were before . Besides , the world learns this from seeing you , That noble Vertue , and Religion too , Ar chearful things , and far from being so sad As th' ar in Melancholy Cloysters made . But ther 's an artful silence , as ther was An artful vailing Agamemnon's face ; And others praises we may speak of well , But as for hers who 's wholly ineffable , 'T is praise enough to say , that she can ne'r Be prais'd enough ; and say no more of her . To the Honourable , EDWARD HOWARD , Brother to the Duke of NORFOLK . IT is not Travel makes a man , 't is true , Unless a man could travel , Sir , like you . In putting off themselves , and putting on The best of every Country where they com ; Their Customs , Manners , Fashions , and their use , Purg'd of the dross , and stript of the abuse ; Till rich themselves with observation , They come at last t' enrich their Country home : Whilst the py'd Traveller that nothing knows Of other Countries Fashions , but their Cloaths , And speak their Language but as Parrats do , Only perchance a broken word or two ; Goes , and returns the same he went agen , By carrying still himself along with him . On WILLIAM , Duke of Newcastle . BUt now behold a Noble-man indeed , Such as w' admire in Story when we read , And love and honour , when we do but see As perfect Pattern of Nobility ; Who does not proudly look that you should d'off Your Hat , and make a reverence twelvescore off ; Nor takes exceptions if at every word You call him not Your Grace , or else My Lord : But is all Courtesie and Civility , As best becoms a Noble-man to be ; And does appear a hundred times more great By his neglect of 't , than by keeping State. Whence , thorow all Degrees that he has past , Of Vicount , Earl , Marquess , and Duke at last , H 'as always gain'd the general esteem Of honouring them , more than they honour'd him . To The Lady BRIDGET , Vicountess KILMURRAY . MADAME , VVHen I wou'd praise you as I others do , So many Vertues do appear in you , As 't is not in the pow'r of Art or Wit To count them all , they are so infinit . What shud I do then , but in brief conclude As Painters when they paint a multitude , Who when th 'ave some o' th' chiefest heads exprest , Under them darkly shadow all the rest ? So having said y' ar beauteous , vertuous , wise , Under which heads I all the rest comprise ; I leave them darkly shadowed and hid Under those heads , as t'other Painter did . On The Dutchess of Monmouth's Happie Childbirth . NOw thanks to Heaven ! what we have hop'd for long , And long have pray'd for , Monmouth has a son ; His Lady safe delivered , and with her Thousands besides delivered of their fear . Who hear this joyful News , and are not glad , May they be ever deaf , and ever sad . Now ye Physitians , you who said that she With so great danger should delivered be ; who 'll ere believe you more , unless you say You have no skill ? and then indeed they may ; Or that each Midwife has more skill than you , And then they safely may believe you too : Mean time , the childe , and mothers life , do show Ye ar all great Lyers , and do nothing know . And O! to prove you greater Lyers , may Sh'have many children , and live many a day . On The Foyl of Nobility . SEe you yond Thing , who looks as he would cry I am a Lord , a mile ere he comes nigh ; And thinks to shew it by his being proud , His strutting as he goes , and talking loud ? Behold him well , you 'll hardly finde enough In the whole man to make a Lacquey of , And for true Honour , and Nobility , His Groom and Coachman have as much as He. Such empty things have nothing else of worth , But Place and Titles , for to set them forth ; Being just like Dwarfs drest up in Gyants cloaths ; Bigger he 'd seem , the lesser still he shows : Or like small Statues on huge Basis set ; Their heights but only make them shew less great . The Welcoming a Friend from SEA ; In Drolling . Dear N. WElcom from Sea , and now th' art com a shore , If thou beest wise , I prithee go no more . Let Land-men keep a-land , and only they , A Gods name , who are Sea-men , go to Sea. Ther were som comfort , if the Wars wou'd cease First Voyage one does make , and end in Peace . But War 's a Hydra ; cut but off one head , And straight seven others sprout up in the stead . I know you went to learn Experience there ; And your Experience might have cost your dear ; Thank Heav'n y' ar come off with so little harm , And scap'd without the loss of leg or arm ; Which that th' art scap'd , th' ast but small cause to boast 'T was but a happpie rashness at the most . And 't had been Fortune's fault , if the first time Thou hadst been kill'd , but second 't will be thine . The end of the first Book of EPIGRAMS : All newly Made , or newly Revised . The Second Book OF EPIGRAMS . To His ROYAL HIGHNESS , IAMES Duke of York . THe first Book be'ng his Majesties , and this By Consequence your Royal Highness is : The World doth scarcely any one afford , After You Two , worthy to be the Third . To Her ROYAL HIGHNESS IOSEPHA-MARIA d'Este , Dutchess of York . Madame , IF expectation makes the Blessing dear , Your Highness long has been expected here . And now y' are come , be pleas'd to know , you 'll finde Your Royal Lord above all Husbands kinde : The KING and Him two of the Worthiest men The World ere saw , or ere shall see agen . The QUEEN so pious and devout , she 's one Who seems all Piety and Devotion . The English Ladies generally fair , Betwixt the French and your Italian air . And th' Better sort and the Nobility Nothing but Courtesie and Civility . For th' rest , our hope of Civilizing 'um , Next Heav'n , is in Your Highness , now y' are come : Which if You do , You 'll gain immortal Fame , And make Ioseph-Maria d'Este's Name Amongst the English full as famous as Amongst the French , Clotilda's ever was . Mean time , Your Highness bears along with You Your House's Honour , and Your Nation 's too . To his Royal Highness , On his Return from our Naval VICTORY , An. 65. GReater and Famouser than ere Caesar or Alexander were , Who has both done , and out-done too , What those great Heroes could not do : Till Empire of the Seas they get , No Victory can be compleat . For Land and Sea make but one Ball ; They had but half , you have it all . Great Prince ! the Glory of our days , And utmost bound of humane praise : Increas'd in Style , we well may call You now , The whole Worlds Admiral ; Whilst mighty CHARLES with Trident stands , And like some God , the Sea commands . Having so gloriously orecome , What now remains , but to come home , And fixed in our British Sphere , Shine a bright Constellation there , Most pow'ful ore the Watry Main , Next unto that of Charles his Wain ? To His Highness Prince RVPERT , On the same . GReat and Heroick Prince ! surpassing far Him who was styl'd The Thunder-bolt of War. The Belgick Lion stands amaz'd to see A greater Lion than it self , in Thee : And Zealand one , all trembling for fear , Half sinks into the Waves , to hide it there . Ne'r since the Greeks first call'd the World their own , Or Romanes theirs , was greater Valour known . And if there yet new worlds to Conquer were , Brave Rupert were the fittest Conqueror ; Greatest Example of Heroick worth , As ever yet this Later Age brought forth ! As formerly the Land of Britain was , So now the Sea 's too narrow for thy praise ; And 't will in time become the work alone Of Extasie and Admiration . On the Death of His ROYAL HIGHNESS HENRY Duke of Gloucester . HIgh-born and Great as any Prince on earth , With Minde as great and high as was his Birth ; Wise 'bove his years , Valiant above a man ; And had he liv'd to end as he began , The World would for Him scarce have any room , So Mighty and so Great he had become : Whose Life was just like the Arabian winde , That so much fragrant sweetness leaves behinde , The World is fill'd with odour of his Name , After he 's gone , from whom the sweetness came . Who 's now so dull , when this they hear but sed , Who does not know the Duke of Gloster's dead ? The Gallantst Person Nature ever made , And hopefulst Prince as England ever had . Let those who trust this World then , learn by this , What all their worldly hope and greatness is . On the Death of Her ROYAL HIGHNESS , HENRIETTA Dutchess of Orleans . THis Life of ours is like a Garden , where The fairest Flow'rs always first gathered are ; Whilst common ones are onely left like Weeds , To wither on their stalks , and fall to seeds . And ne'r than this was fairer Flower known , Where th' Rose and Lily both were joyn'd in one : In which Conjunction did together meet All that was heav'nly fair , and heav'nly sweet . Hereafter then , as 't is your Florists guise New names for rarest Flowers to devise ; And more for the perpetuating their Fames , To call them by some Royal persons Names : Those which are fairest sweetest ones of all , We Henrietta's by her name may call . To HENRY Earl of Arlington , Principal SECRETARY of State. My Lord , THat ours and other Nations may know How much to such Great men as you they owe , Who for the State perpetual Vigil keep , And with your Watchfulness secure their Sleep . While dull Spectators , and the common Rout Onely behold the Dyals hand without , You are the Wheels give Motion to 't within , Next to the Primum Mobile , the KING . You are th' Intelligences of the Sphere Of Government , and all the Weight do bear ; Whilst , like great Iove , the KING does sit above , And under him sees all in Order move . Mean time , 't is a great happiness for a King , To meet men fit for th' Offices th' ar in ; And does commend their Judgments when they chose To serve the State , such Ministers as those . Great Offices require Great Souls , and you , My Lord , have both the one , and t'other too . On a Noble-man Whose MOTTO is , Cavendo Tutus . WHo as the Flint bears Fire , so bears his worth ▪ And is not always shewing of it forth ; But for more solid and profound respects , The needless ostentation of 't neglects : Who 's that just man without all guile or fraud , Who next to 's first Religion unto God , Counts what he is to Men his second one ; And for a world wou'd harm and injure none : Who 's wary and circumspect in all his ways , And nothing rashly either does or says : Nor any thing , in fine , that may offend His Prince , his Country , Conscience , or his Friend . If any now wou'd know who This may be , By his Cavendo Tutus they may see : It is a Cavendish , and that Devonshire's He. TO The Lord GEORGE BERKLEY . IT is an Axiome in Morality , That Vertue 's onely true Nobility ; If so , ther 's none gives clearer proof than you , My Lord , that your Nobility is true . And that 't may so continue , you provide , By adding to 't true Piety beside . For , Piety is but Vertue dy'd in grain , Can ne'r change colour , nor take spot or stain . In which pure garment whosoere are clad , Are truly vertuous , truly noble made . Such Courtiers Heav'n desires , and such Kings shou'd Desire too , if they 'd have them great and good . Happie the whilst , my Lord , are such as you , Fit for both th' earthly Court , and heav'nly too ; Whilst those who do not joyn them both together , As you have done , my Lord , are fit for neither . To Mr. HENRY IERMIN , On their demanding why he had no higher TITLES , &c. STill Noble , Gallant , Generous , and Brave : What more of Titles wou'd these people have ? Or what can they imagine more , to express How great thou art , that would not make thee less ? He who is proud of other Titles , is Proud of a thing that 's other 's , none of his . And 't were in thee but vain ambition To seek by other Titles to be known ; When Henry Iermins name alone affords As high and great a sound as any Lord's . The title of a worthy person 's more Than all which they so obsequiously adore : And ther 's no Office they can greater call , Than doing of good offices to all . This is thy Office , these thy Titles are ; Let who list take the rest , thou dost not care . On the Closet or Study OF MARGARET Dutchess of Newcastle . WHat place is this ! 't looks like some sacred Cell Where holy Ermits anciently did dwell . Is this a Ladies Closet ? 't cannot be ; For nothing here of vanity you see , Nothing of Curiosity or Pride , As most of Ladies Closets have beside . Here she 's in rapture , here in extasie , With studying high and deep Philosophy . Here those clear lights descend into her minde , Which by reflection in her Books you finde ; And those high notions and idea's too , Which but her self , no Woman ever knew . Whence she 's the chiefest ornament and grace O' th' Age , and of her Sex : hail sacred place , To which the world in after-times shall come , As unto Homers Shrine , or Virgils Tomb ; Honouring the place wherein she made abode , The air she breath'd , and ground whereon she trod . So Fame rewards the Arts , and so agen The Arts reward all those that honour them . Whilst whosoe'r in other Fames does trust , Shall after death , lie in forgotten dust . On MELCHBOVRN , The Residence of the Earl of Bullingbrook . MElchbourn with such perpetual quiet blest , As if the Halcyon there had built its nest , Or 't were the middle region of the air , Where never storms nor tempests do repair . Whether the Exorcism i' th' place doth lie , Or rather in the peaceful company , Whose Lord and Lady of a dove-like kinde , Live so united , with one soul and minde : Betwixt them never yet was other strife , But who should kindest be , of man or wife . All friendship , nobleness , and kindness , He ; All sweetness , gentleness , and mildness , She. No Weathercocks of Humour , apt to change ; To day familiar , and to morrow strange : But constant to their goodness , and their way ; The same to-morrow as they were to-day . So men at ease and certainty live there ; In pain and in uncertainty elsewhere . On the Duke of Albemarl's , AND And the Earl of Sandwich's Bringing in the KING . THat present and all future times may know How much to Monk and Montague they owe ; By them that great and mighty work was done , O' th' Kings most happie Restauration . A happiness so general , we may call It well The Restauration of us all . Whilst t'one restor'd him to possession O' th' Royal Fleet , t'other o' th' Royal Throne . One gave him full and absolute Command O' th' Sea again , as t'other did o' th' Land. For which , what Statues had erected been In former times , what Titles giv'n to them ; And with what acclamations had they said , Whilst to these Heroes they their thanks had paid ! " If others have their Honours well deserv'd , " Who nobly have their King and Country serv'd ; " What Honours ever can be worthy You , " Who have not onely serv'd , but sav'd them too ! On the Death OF The Earl of Sandwich . NEver was greater Sacrifice than this , Where Sea 's the Temple , Fireship Altar is , And Sandwich Victime offer'd up , to save His Countries Honour by a death more brave Than ever Heroe di'd , though we shou'd sum All Greece ere boasted of , or ancient Rome . O Noble Sandwich ! while there 's Memory , O' th' British Seas thy Fame shall never die ; Who 'twixt two different deaths , at last wert found In Water burnt , and in the Fier drown'd . As if to kill thee once did not suffice Thy mighty minde , but they must kill thee twice : Or else , to serve thy Country , thou didst choose More than one death , more than one life to loose . Let then the Fabii , Decii , Curii , nor Meltiade's be mentioned no more , Who for to serve their Country chose to fall : Our Noble Sandwich has out-done them all . To the Earl of Ossory , On his going to SEA. MOst Noble Ossory , who dost possess So much of Honour and of Nobleness , As were all Honour , all Nobility In others lost , they might be found in thee . In these our Wars at Sea , where Death does stand With twice more force and terrour than at Land ; Into what danger thou thy life dost bear , The less Thou fear'st , the more thy friends do fear . But when we talk of danger unto him , Who Life than Honour does far less esteem , This onely's all the answer he does give ; There 's need to go , but there 's no need to live . Go then , since nothing can be throughly done , But where the Noble Ossory is one . There 's nothing now that England needs to fear , When YORK is Leader , and He Follower ; Who 's both in Peace and War , by Land and Sea , so fit to serve his Country every way , As for true Honour , true Nobility , England had ne'r a braver man than He. To the Lord HENRY HOWARD of Norfolk ▪ now Earl of Norwich , And Lord High Marshal of England ; On his African Voyage . COmmanded by your Prince , you did not say For your Excuse , A Lion's in the way ; But by Obedience and by Honour led , Even into Africh went , where they are bred : Teaching of Subjects , by the haste you made , How Kings and Princes are to be obey'd ; And how they obey but slowly , and too late , When they demur , or else capitulate . By your Example then , whoere are sent By Kings abroad , may learn this Document , How they but serve themselves , and not their Kings , Who onely obey in fafe and easie things ; And how there 's little Honour to obey , When difficulty and danger is away . Let then your talking Croud say what they will , The greater Danger , greater Honour still ; And that , my Lord , you went to Africk for , Let who 's lift go to fetch the Golden Oar. To the Same : On his Voyage to CONSTANTINOPLE . WHilst Merchants Traffick for their lucre , You Traffick for Honour wheresoere you go : Of which brave Merchandize you always make A noble and rich Return at coming back . Witness that Voyage which you lately made To the Levant , where is the richest Trade : Besides , now into Italy again , Now into France , and unto farthest Spain . How Rich the while must th' Howards be of 't ? who Have such brave Factors for 't abroad , as You : And are so honour'd for 't at home , as they Without offence and vanity may say , As God first made the Light , then made the Sun A bright and great Reserve for 't when h 'had done : So Kings make Honour's , and the Howards are The great Reserves of 't , still you finde it there . On WELBECK , the Duke of Newcastle's House , Where he so Royally Entertain'd the last KING . WElbeck's a Royal place , where every thing Seems made for Entertainment of a King ; And all the World confesses that he ne'r Was entertain'd more Royally than there . Whose Cellar and whose Larder seem t' have bin Of ev'ry forraign Land the Magazin ; Whilst every where their Rarities were sought By Land and Sea , and unto Welbeck brought . Let others wonder at thy Lords expence , And at the vastness of 's magnificence , Whose feast was but Preludium to the cost With which soon after he maintain'd an Host. He who would venture's Fortunes , Life , and all , To serve his Master when his General ; For me , I ne'r shall wonder that he wou'd Not spare his Purse , that wou'd not spare his Bloud . TO FRANCES Dutchess of Albemarle . Madame , THe chiefest Office that the Poet has , Is to give others their deserved praise ; And when they finde a true and real worth , T' adorn it handsomely , and set it forth . So , there are some they praise for nothing else But Beauty , or the outside of themselves . Others , and more deservedly , agen , They praise for Vertue , or th' inside of them ; And sometimes for Nobility of Bloud , When 't is ennobled by some greater good All which , of noble , fair , and vertuous too , Being to perfection , Madam , found in You , Whoever does not praise you for 't , must be No Poet , or else blinde , and cannot see : And as for me , Madam , though I were none . The seeing You were enough to make me one . IN MEMORY OF The Lady IANE CHEYNEE . THe gentlest temper , and the mildest brest , Most apt to pardon , needing pardon least ; Whose Blush was all her Reprehension , And none ere heard her chide , or saw her frown ; Who was so liberal to the Poor , she scant Thought any thing her own , whilst they did want ; And scarce had any Passion of her own , But was for others All compassion . So Innocent she was in guiltiest time , Omission of doing good was all her Crime ; And those omissions chiefly did proceed From the abundance too o' th' good she did . In fine , a Saint she liv'd , and so she di'd ; And now is gone where onely they abide . Make much of her , ye Saints , for Heav'n knows when Your Quires will ever have her like agen . On MARY Dutchess of Richmond . WHether a chearful air does rise , And elevate her fairer Eyes , Or a pensive heaviness Her lovely Eye-lids does depress ; Still the same becoming Grace Accompanies her Eyes and Face : Still you 'd think that habit best In which her Count'nance last was drest . Poor Beauties ! whom a look or glance Can sometimes make looks fair by chance ; Or curious dress , or artful care , Can make seem fairer than they are . Give me the Eyes , give me the Face , To which no Art can adde a Grace ; Give me the Looks no garb nor dress Can ever make more fair , or less . On GEORGE Duke of Buckingham her Father , To the Lord Duke her Brother . THe Gallantst Person , and the Noblest Minde , In all the World his Prince could ever finde , Or to participate his private cares , Or bear the publick weight of his affairs : All which he bore as steady , and as even As ever Atlas did the Globe of Heaven : Like well-built Arches , stronger with their weight ; And well-built Mindes , the steadier with their height Such was the Composition and Frame O' th' Noble and the Gallant Buckingham . These , whilst he liv'd , your Fathers praises were ; And now he 's dead , are Yours , my Lord , his Heir . The winning Carriage , and the smiling Grace Of his exterior Person , and his Face ; The noble Vertues of 's interiour Brest ; And in 's Example you have all the rest . To LILLY , DRAWING The Dutchess of Cleveland's Picture . STay , daring man , and ne'r presume to draw Her Picture , till thou mayst such Colours get As Zeuxis or Apelles never saw , Nor ere were known by any Painter yet . Till from all Beauties thou extracts the grace , And from the Sun , the Beams that gild the Skies , Never presume to draw her Beauteous face , Nor paint the radiant brightness of her Eyes . In vain the while thou dost the labour take , Since none can set her forth to her desert ; She who 's above all Nature ere did make , Much more 's above all can be made by Art. Yet be n't discourag'd : for whoere does see 't , ●t least with admiration must confess ●t has an air for charming and for sweet , Much more than others , though than hers much less . ●o those bold Gyants who would scale the Skie , ●lthough they in their high attempt did fall , ●his comfort had , They mounted yet more high ●han those who never strove to climb at all . ●omfort thee then , and think it no disgrace , ●om so great height a little to decline ; ●nce all must grant , the reason of it was ●●r too great Excellence , and no want of thine . To the Dutchess of Cleveland : On her new Accession of TITLES , An. 1670. ALthough your Graces Modestie is so great , You won't admit of your own praises , yet We well may praise you under Beauties name ; And You and Beauty , Madam , are the same . To ask then , what in Beauty we can finde To honour so ' is question of the blinde ; Since all have any sense , or eyes , may see It self alone is its own dignity , And , Monarch-like , does in it self comprise All other Titles , Stiles , and Dignities . Th' are envious then , at its advancement grutch , Or think it can be honour'd here too much . That might in aneient times , if it had been , Have chose what Constellation 't wou'd be in ; Either t' have sat in Cassiopoei's Throne , Or to be crown'd with Ariadne's Crown . There is no Honour underneath the skie , That is for Beauty too sublime and high . To the Earl of S. Albans , Lord Chamberlain to His Majestie . My Lord , THough we allow Fortune no Deity , Yet sure there 's some such fickle thing as She , That has great pow'r over th' unwiser sort , And , next to Vertue , can do much in Court. For since i' th' Court y 'ave stood , and honoured been , How many Revolutions have we seen ? How many strange Examples have we known , Of Favourites sh' has rais'd and overthrown ? Whilst none but such as You can firmly stand , Not rais'd by Fortune's , but by Vertue 's hand . Live ever honour'd then , ever the same , Still more and more ennobling Iermin's Name , And live a Great Example unto all Who tottering stand in Court , and fear to fall ; How none but those are rais'd by Vertues hand , Can either safely rise , or firmly stand . On Mris STVART . STVART , a Royal Name that springs From Race of Caledonian Kings ; Whose vertuous minde , and beautious frame , Addes Honour to that Royal Name . What praises can we worthy finde , To celebrate your form and minde ? The greatest pow'r that is on Earth Is giv'n to Princes by their Birth ; But there 's no pow'r in Earth nor Heav'n , Greater than what 's to Beauty given : That , makes not onely Men relent , When unto rage and fury bent , But Lions tame , and Tygers mild , All fierceness from their brests exil'd . Such Wonders yet could ne'r be done By Beauties pow'r and force alone , Without the force and power to boot Of excellent goodness added to 't . For just as Iewels we behold More brightly shine when set in Gold : So Beauty shines far brighter yet , In goodness and in vertue set . Continue then but as you are , So excellently good and fair ; Let Princes by their Birthrights sway , You 'll have a Power as great as they . On her Dancing at White-hall , All shining with JEWELS . SO Citharea in th'Olympick Hall , And th' rest o' th' Stars dance their Celestial Ball , As Stuart with the rest o' th' Nymphs does here , The brightest Beauties of the British Sphere . Who wou'd not think her Heav'n , to see her thus All shine with Starry Iewels as she does ? Or some what heavenlier yet , to see her Eyes Out shine the Starry Iewels of the Skies ? Onely their splendour's so exceeding bright , Th' excess confounds and blindes us with the sight . Just like the Sun , who 's bright to that degree , Nothing is more , nothing less seen than he . Mean time the rapid motion of the Spheres Is not more sweet nor ravishing than hers : And 't is not th' harmony makes her dance , but She With dancing 't is that makes the harmony . Next to divinest Cynthia Queen of Light , Never was seen a Nymph more fair and bright , Nor ever shall 'mongst all her Starry train , Though those in heav'n shou'd all come down again . On her Marriage WITH The Duke of Richmond . THe fairest Nymph in all Diana's train , For whom so many sigh'd , and sigh'd in vain : She who so oft had others captive made , And who so oft o'r others triumpht had , Is Hymens captive now her self , and led In triumph to the Noble Richmond's Bed. Nor is it strange to see about her flie As many Cupids as are Stars i' th' skie , As many Graces as are Sands i' th' Sea , Nor yet as many Venus's as they : But to behold so many Vertues throng About a Nymph so beautiful and young , Is strange indeed , and does enough declare That she is full as vertuous as fair ; And all those lovely graces has beside , As ere made Bridegroom happie in a Bride . TO IAMES Earl of Northampton . WHilst you your Father 's Noble steps did trace , And still were found where greatest danger was , As none i' th' Wars more active was than you , So none has since more suffer'd for it too , By Plundring , Harassing , Imprisonment , And all successful Rebels could invent To punish Loyalty with , in such a time , When being Loyal was the greatest Crime : All which you not with patience alone , But ev'n with chearfulness have undergone ; Wishing your danger , loss , and suffering , Far greater yet , in serving of your King : And that far from the merc'nary regard Of those did less for Honour than Reward . And you 've the Honour of 't ; let other men Take the Reward , you do not envie them . To Sir WILLIAM DVCEI , On his Three Entertainments ; Of the KING , Prince of Tuscany , and Prince of Denmark , All the same Year , An. 1669. DVcei , who bravely knows to spend When 't is for any noble end , And never sticks at the expence , When 't is to shew magnificence ; For th' Royal Entertainment that Thou gav'st unto thy Prince of late , The Honour onely is thine own : But what 's to other Princes done , The honour which to that is due Is both thine own , and others too : In that , th' art but a private man ; In this , a publike person ; and Thy Country shou'd ungrateful be , Shou'd it not always honour Thee , Who know'st so bravely how to spend , When 't is for any noble end ; And never sticks at the expence , When 't is to shew magnificence . To Mr. BERNARD HOWARD , Brother to the Duke of Norfolk . Segnite il Pocchi , & non li vulgare genti . I Grant you , Sir , I have a minde unfit For my low fortune , and too high for it : But sure you 'll grant 't is better have it so , Than for high fortune t' have a minde too low . By that , a man is elevated to An Angels pitch , attain'd by onely few : By this , the Noble soul is ev'n deprest Unto the Vulgar , almost to the Beast . This Sentence I have ta'n for Motto then : Follow the few , not vulgar sort of men . Nor care I what the common people say , For being not of their number , nor their way : They do but talk , and can't in judgement sit , Nor lies it in their Verge to judge of Wit. I put my self upon the onely few ; That is , the best and Noblest , such as You. To the truly Honourable , Mr. THOMAS HOWARD , Brother to the Earl of Carlisle . Noble Sir , THough ne'r so many confidently aver That Honour 's onely in the Honourer ; Yet we may well affirm of such as You , 'T is both i' th' Honourer ann Honour'd too . Nay , You 'd be Honourable , Sir , thou there were none Extant in all the world but You alone . As th' Sun wou'd still be luminous and bright , Though men , like moles , were all depriv'd of sight . Let others glory in the Honours then And Titles they receive from other men ; You have no Titles by the which y' are known , Nor Honours , but what 's properly Your own . The End of the Second BOOK . The Third Book of Miscellany Epigrams . On our Town-LIBELLERS . WE have a sort of Libellers in Town , For base & villanous Rhyme put Withers down , Men semi-Atheists , and who want not much , In lives and manners to be wholly such . So perfect bad , they laugh at Machiavil For saying None can be extremely ill : And in their Writings , as in all the rest , Satyrs , half Men , half Goats , and wholly Beast . These , when they write of Dildoes and such stuff , May be allow'd , though scurrilous enough : But when they write 'gainst others , nay don't spare Ev'n Kings themselves , had best in time beware Lest as wilde horses , which unless they check In their Carreer , oft break their Riders neck : So may their Wits in time break their necks too , Unless they rule them better than they do . Such are your Libellers , who 're but the same Savage and wilde , as Ballad-makers tame : Hated by th' nobler sort , and , to conclude , Lov'd and applauded by the multitude , For writing as they do 'gainst every one , And counted Wits , when rather they have none ; Employ their Pens and Wits in such a way , As none in Bedlam's half so mad as they . And now if any take exceptions for Writing 'gainst these , let them take Hellebor . The Pourtrait . SUch a stature as they call Nor too low , nor yet too tall , And each part , from head to foot , With a just proportion to 't ; Hair so black , and skin so white , Never was a fairer sight : And her fairer yet to make , Eye and Eyebrows too , as black : Forehead smoother than the Glass Where she sees her lovely face : Cheeks where naturally grows The Lilly and the blushing Rose : Lips all other Lips excelling , Th' ar are so ruddy , and so swelling : Voice that charms you , 't is so sweet , Made more charming by her Wit. In fine , for symmetry and fear●ure , Nature ne'r made a fairer creature . If any'd know who this may be , Name but Bellasis , and 't is she . The Young Couple , I. D. and B. S. THey well faign'd Cupid yong : for then 's the time , As Roses in the bud , when he 's in 's prime . And such an early love is this of theirs , Who now are married in their tender years . Now , like soft Wax , they aptest are to take The sweet impressions which their Loves shall make . And like young Plants , they 'll easily bend and bow , Which , older grown , they 'd not so easily do . Let none the whilst object their Pupillage ; For Love and Marriage none are under age . For what does Hymens rites to Lovers more Than joyn their hands , whose hearts were joyn'd before ? And here on earth , by sacred Pledges given , Confirm that Marriage which was made in Heaven ? To th' Temple then , and as they pass along , Let Youths and Virgins sing their Nuptial song ; And thus conclude : For noble , good , and fair , Hymen ne'r coupled a more equal pair . To M. M. Davies , On her excellent Dancing and Singing . HOw I admire thee , Davies ! the delight Both of the ravisht hearing and the sight ! Whose dancing and whose singing added to 't , Shews thee all Harmony from head to foot . Who would not say , to see thee dance so light , Thou wert all air , or else all flame and spright ? Or who 'd not think , to see thee onely tread , Thy feet were Feathers , others feet but Lead ? Athlanta well cou'd run , and Hermes flee , But none e'r mou'd more gracefully than thee . And Circes charm'd with Wand and Magicklore , But none like thee ere charm'd with feet before . Thou Miracle , whom all men must admire ! To see thee move like air , and mount like fire . Whoe'r would follow thee , and come but nigh To thy perfections must not dance , but flie . But now she sings , let 's peace , and say no more : For just as when she onely danc'd before , We wisht our selves all Eyes to see her , so We wish our selves all Ears to hear her now . Onely we 'll say , Never did mortal ear On earth before such heavenly musick hear . And we her singing well may heavenly call , Whose skill's divine , and voice Angelical . On her pretty Daughter . PRetty childe , in whom appears All the seeds , above thy years , Of every Beautie , every Grace , As ere was sown in minde or face . Never by Nature yet was made A Childe who more perfections had ; Nor ever , though she 'd ne'r so fain , Can she make the like again . Thou art th' Epitome of all We pretty , fair , and sweet do call : And for the more Conformity , This is th' Epitome of Thee . On a Ladies Blushing When the KING beheld her . SO Roses blush when lookt on by the Sun , As she when by the King she 's lookt upon : And so of all fair things we nothing see More fair in nature than the Rose and She. If things take names from their Original , We well her Blushes Royal ones may call ; And if we 've lost the Royal Purples Stain , It in her Cheeks may well be found again . In brief , as 't is a signe the Sun draws neer , When fair Aurora blushing does appear ; To see her blushing when the King does come , You 'd say He were Aurora , she the Sun. On a famous Running Horse . LEt Fabulous Antiquity no more Boast of the Running horses 't had before : Here is a Horse , to whom they 'd all seem lame Who ran i' th' Isthmos or Nemean Game ; Surpassing far the Horses of the Sun So many thousand miles a day do run ; Or Gynets of the Andalusian kinde , For swiftness far outstrip their Sire , the Winde : Whom we had prais'd before , but that there 's none Had time to do it till the Race was done . Swifter than thought , or lightning from the skie , Begins and ends in twinkling of an Eye : Such is his speed when he begins to run , Whose ending and beginning is all one ; And now w 'ave time to praise him , then w'ad none . Let none then talk of Pegasus , not yet O' th' t'other Flying horse of Pacolet ; While we have — here , we well may say , We have our Flying horse as well as they . On a Pretty Little Person . SHe is pretty , and she knows it ; She is witty , and she shows it : And besides that she 's so witty , And so little , and so pretty , Sh' has a hundred other parts , For to take and conquer Hearts . 'Mongst the rest , her Air 's so sprightful , And so pleasant and delightful , With such Charms , and such Attractions , In her words , and in her actions , As whoe'r does hear and see , Say there 's none do charm but she . But who have her in their arms , Say sh' has hundred other Charms , And as many more Attractions In her words and in her actions : But for that , suffice to tell ye 'T is the little pretty Nelly . ON Mris IEAN ROBERTS . ROberts , whom rather we Rob-hearts may call , Since of our hearts her Beauty robs us all ; And does it with such gentle force and slight , As she even robs us with her very sight . Nay , what few Beauties else cou'd ever do , Her sight not onely robs , but kills us too . Though none so fond of life was ever found , Who wou'd not gladly die of such a wound . Nor talk of Law to her , who is above All other Laws , but onely those of Love. Whence she 's so high and absolute become , As she gives Laws to all , but takes of none . Such priviledge Beauty has : whence we may see , Less Thieves are punisht , great ones lawless be ; And mighty Conquerors , whom no Laws can touch , Do rob and kill , like her , but not so much . To CLARISSA , Too curious in her Dress . ANd why , Clarissa , all this pain and care , To gain the Reputation of fair ? When without all this care , and all this pain , You have already what you strive to gain . All other Arts in you would show as poor , As theirs would do who seek to guild Gold ore : And you 'd appear as vain in it , as they Who seek by Art to Blanch the Milkie way . Men well this curious dressing may suspect , Since Beauty still shows best in the neglect ; And Truth and it needs so small setting sorth , As all you add to 't , takes but from it's worth . Leave then , Clarissa , these poor helps to those , Who need to piece their Beauties out with Clothes . So Politicks when th' Lyons skin does fail Do use to piece it out with Foxes tail : But when th' have Lyons skin enough , 't is poor And beggerly to add a piece to 't more . To CAELIA , Disswasion from Marriage . CAElia , Who now are in your Beauties prime , Courted by all the Gallants of the time , Who nothing else the whilst of Heaven do crave , But tha ' for Wife , they might fair Celia have : I 'le tell you what your Beauty is , and what Y' are to expect , when come to Marriage state . Beauty is just like Sweet-meats , which before Th' have tasted of , nothing they long for more : But after once 't is tasted , and enjoy'd , Nothing with which your Men are sooner cloy'd . Your Marriage then is such a Tepid thing , And 's flames become so dull and languishing , As losing all their force i' th' Marriage-Breast , 'T is Ice to them , that 's Fire to all the rest . Go Caelia then , and Marry if you will ; If not , be wise , and live a Virgin still . TO SIR K. D. WHilst with thy mighty Wit I but compare Our Petty ones , methinks they Pigmies are , And thine the Gyant , with whose vast discourse Whilst we 'd be meddling fain , but want the force , Thy Wit comes to 't , and takes it up with ease , And turns and winds which way so'er thou please . Whence we perceive 't is not for every one To manage Hercules Club but him alone . Mean time , how I have long'd when I have been Where I some insolent talking Sir have seen Usurping all discourse o' th' company , Whil'st none must speak , none must be heard but he , T' ave some such Tyrant-Conquerour as thou To undertake him , onely to see how My talking Sir would presently be husht , And all 's swoln pride just like a Bladder crusht . So have I seen some Chattering Pye or Iay Fright with their noise the lesser Fowl away , Untill some mighty Eagle comes in sight , When straight themselves are husht and put to flight . To Mr. Ed : Waller , ON His Excellent POEMS . Poco e bono . 'T Is not in Wits , as 't is in horses found , Where those who run the fastest get most ground . Nor does 't with Books , as 't does with Cattle fare , Where those are counted best that greatest are . Yet such voluminous Authors think it brave , When they , like thos o' th' Alps , their swelling have ; Which other men more learned and more wise , Do look upon but as deformities . If Writing much did make a learned man. Scriveners write more than Learned'st Authors can ; Or th' Imploying much Paper were the way , A hundred Tradesmen Imploy more than they . The Italian wisely say's , A little and good ; By which best way of writing's understood . And never any Author more then you , Did in their writings make that saying true . On a most fair Beautiful Youth . WHat more than fair and Beauteous Youth is this , Seems Nature's chiefest Pride & Master-piece ? When doubtful whether sex to make , she made One , who of either all perfection had . You 'd think him young Apollo , or the Sun , But that his face has two , Phoebus but one ; Or else that Cupid God of Love he were , Did he like him , but Bow and Quiver bear . Who e're he be , you by his Eyes and Face , May see he 's born of more-than-mortal Race , And that ther 's somewhat in 's Nativitie Approaches nigh to a Divinitie . Live then , Fair Youth , and may the Fates still twine New Treads of life , and add them unto thine , Till thou at last Immortal may'st become , As bright Latona's or fair Venus Son. Which if the Fates and destines deny , Thine own Immortal fame may well supply . Of Miss's and Mistresses . TO know the derivation of a Miss , She the diminutive of a Mistress is , Or little Mistress , who as yet 's not come Unto the honour of a greater one . But you may call her by her Christen name , Whil'st t' other must at least be call'd Ma-dame . And she most commonly unmarried is , Whil'st Married wives commonly are Mistresses . For th' rest , ' bating but difference of the name , To all intents and purposes they 'r the same ; Living the merriest and the pleasant'st lives , With all the priviledges of Married wives ; And are to their Gallants more costly far Than Married wives unto their Husbands ar ; They giving more , how e're the Devil it comes , For lawless pleasures , then for lawful ones . Whence now Son of a Whore's a name more common , Then ever was Son of an honest Woman . Of one Sweating IN CORNELIVS's TVB . WHo 's this ? that lives so like Diogenes : For he liv'd in a Tub , and so does this . Some holy Anchorite perhaps does dwell In Tub instead of Solitarie cell ; Or some Tub-preacher , who does take such pain To Preach 'gainst Babel , as he sweats again . Pox ! now I know he 's one , i' th' case he 's in , Who Sweats far more for 's own than Adam's sin ; And 's in so sweet a pickle , I suppose , He 's glad himself that he has n'er a Nose . Yet he 's so far from rayling against Women , Or sorrow and repentance for his sinning , He call's it still the sweet sin of the flesh , Though it be rather powder'd now then fresh : And as for Women , says , howe're th'have serv'd him , A Woman made him , and a Woman marr'd him . To a LADY Too confident of her Innocence . MAdam , That you are Innocent I know , But th' world wants Innocence to think you so ; And you must seek , now , slander to prevent , As well as to be Chast and Innocent : When men are so unjust , they 'll scarce allow That any can be fair and vertuous now . In Saturn's days , perhaps , it might suffice , When to be Innocent , was to be wise : But now , without the Serpents wisdom too , The Innocence of the Dove will hardly do . You must provide , then , some more sure defence 'Gainst slanderous Tongues , besides your Innocence . For Innocence is Vertue but unarm'd ; The more you trust unto 't , the more y' are harm'd . The Ladies name in Aenigma . HEr first name somewhat of Elysium has ; And second is in a more mystick phrase , That colour which showes venerable age , And does i' th' morning a fair day presage . Unriddle now , and tell whose name this is , Or forfeit a discretion if you miss . To Mr. IOHN DRYDEN . DRyden the Muses darling and delight , Than whom none ever flew a Braver flight , Nor ever any's Muse so high did soar Above the Poets Empyreum before . Some are so low and creeping , they appear But as the reptils of Parnassus were ; Others but water-Poets , who have gone No farther then to 'th Fount of Helicon : And they but Airy ones , whose Muse soars up No higher than to mount Parnassus top . Whil'st thou with thine does seem t' have mounted higher Than him who fetch 't from Heaven Coelestial fire , And do'st as far surpass all others , as The fire all other Elements do's surpass . Of an Excellent Actor : OR , The praises of Richard Burbadge . To Charles Hart. WHo did appear so gracefully o' th' Stage , He was th' Admir'd example of the Age ; And so observ'd all your Drammatique Laws , He n'ere went off the Stage but with applause : Who his Spectatours and his Auditours Led in such silent Chains o' th' Eyes and Ears , As none whilst he o' th' Stage his part did play , Had power to speak or look another way : Who a delightful Protaeus was , and cou'd Transform himself into what shape he wou'd ; And of an excellent Oratour had all In voice and gesture we delightful call : Who was the Soul o' th' Stage , and we may say , 'T was onely he gave Life unto a Play , Which was but dead as 't was by th' Author writ , Till he by 's Action animated it . And finally , he did o' th' Stage appear Beauty to th' Eye , and Musique to the Ear. Such even the nicest Criticks must allow Burbadge was once , And such Charles Hart is now . In one who Slandered A Fair LADY . THou enemy of all that 's bright and Fair , As of the light your Fowls of darkness are : Monster of Monsters , Basilisk of spight , That kills with Tongue , as t'other does with sight . Who takes our Purse , does but as Robbers do ; Who takes our Fames , Robs us and kills us too ; And with their venomous tongues , and poysonous breath , Wou'd , if they cou'd , even kill us after death . Beautie 's a thing Divine , and he who wou'd Wrong that , wou'd wrong Divinity if he cou'd . But I mistake ; it is no infamy To be calumniated by such as thee : Thou rather praisest them against thy will , Like him who our'd by chance whom he wou'd kill . For 't is the same thing , tightly understood To be disprais'd by 'th' bad , as prais'd by 'th' good . A Ladies thoughts defended : AS 't is a Godlike disposition To think , and speak the best of every one ; So 't is a spirit Diabolical , To think the worst , and to speak ill of all . And what fau't is 't others can find with you , Of which themselves are not as guilty too ? ' Less Beauty be a fault , and then who wou'd Not gladly be as guilty , if they cou'd ? All have their faults , and those who have the least , We shou'd account the happiest and the best . 'T is the condition of humanity , None in this world without some faults can be : And who 'd have those with none at all , must go To th' world above , there 's none in this below . This world 's a Race , where some do nothing else But find fault wi' ye , and never run themselves . But do you well , and then let them speak ill : The more their shame , the more your honour still . In Execration of the Small POX . OF all Diseases of Pandora's Box , Was none more foul nor ugly than the Pox. Not that for honour sake the Great we call , But that dishonourable one the Small ; The greatest enemy that Beauty has , And very Goth and Vandal of a face , On which it makes as bad or worser work Than does it's Cousin Measels upon Pork : One of those Devils which in former time Cast out of man , went to the herd of Swine , And giving them the Pox , is come again To play the Devil as it did with men . For that which is already , all curse-proof , What Execration then can be enough ? For , bid a plague upon it , and that curse 'T anticipates already , for 't is worse ; Or great Pox on it , we shou'd curse but ill ; For 't is more great , in being the small Pox still . Since 't is so bad , nothing can worser make it , 'T were no harm then to bid the Devil take it . In Small-Beer . HOw cold am I with drinking of this small-Beer , we may well the Devils Iulip call ? Distill'd from Lembeck of some Lapland-Witch , With North-winds Bellowes blowing in her britch : Or Stale of some old Hagg o' th' Marshes , who Than water never better Liquor knew . A poenitential Drink , for none , by right , But those i' th' morning , who were drunk ore night . Sure t' was the poyson , as we well may think , They gave condemned Socrates to drink ; Or that the Macedonian drank , so cold , As nothing but an Asses-boof wou'd hold . We are deceiv'd , it was not Niobe's moan , But drinking small-Beer , turn'd her into stone ; And 's onely that which ever since has made Our Charity so cold , and th' world so bad . If then Divines wou'd mend it , let them Preach 'Gainst small-Beer onely , and no Doctrine Teach But drinking Wine , and then we soon shou'd see All in Religion easily wou'd agree . This were a Doctrine worthy of their heat , And furious beating th' Pulpit till they sweat , And wou'd do far more good i' th' Pulpit too , Than all their endless Controversies do . The PATRON's Lives . To the Lord M. MY Noble Lord , if you wou'd tell How to live , and to live well , Please you but attention give , I 'le tell you how the Patron 's live . First of all , they neither care Nor for Clook nor Kalendar : Next , they ne're desire to know How affairs o' th' world do go . Above all , they ne're resort To the busie Hall or Court , Where poor men do nothing else But trouble others and themselves . All the business they look after , Onely is their sport and laughter , With a Friend and chearful cup Merrily to Dine and Sup , Hear good Musique , see a Play : Thus they pass the time away With so great an Innocence , And so free from all offence ; When they go to bed at night Their sleeps are ne're molested by 't . If you like our living thus , Come , my Lord , and live with us . On a Hector beaten , &c. STill to be dragg'd ! Still to be beaten thus ! Hector , I fear thy name is Ominous , And thou for fighting did'st but ill provide , To take thy name thus , from the beaten side : To have the Watch , like band of Myrmidons , Beat thee with Halberts down , and break thy bones , And every petty Constable thou meets , Achilles-like , to dragg thee through the streets Poor Hector ! when thou art beaten blind and lame , I hope thou 'lt learn to take another name . On a Famous Doctor , WHo so Famous was of late , He was with Finger pointed at . What cannot learning do , and single State ? Being Married , he so Famous grew , As he was pointed at with two . What cannot learning and a wife now do ? Posthume EPIGRAMS . In memory of CHARLES Lord Gerard of Bromley . WHo alive so far had been , He almost every Land had seen ; And almost every thing did know , A man cou'd in this world below . At last his knowledge to improve , Is gone unto the World above . Where his knowledge is so much , And his happiness is such ; 'T wou'd envy , and not sorrow seem In those too much shou'd grieve for him . Of Col. William Evers , Slayn in the Battle of Marston-moor . EVen such a person , such a mind as thine , Brave Evers , Emperours had in Ancient time , When choosing men for Empire only fit , The bravest minde and person carryed it , And thou well shewd'st it by thy dying so , No Emperour e'r cou'd bravelyer dye than thou . Of ANNE PACKINGTON , Lady AVDLEY . STay Reader , and if ever thou wilt hear A story worthy thy attentive Ear ; Know , here lyes Buryed in this Sepulcher One who had all those excellent qualities , A Mortal creature cou'd Immortalize , Of Vertuous , Noble , Beautiful , and Wise , Who after all degrees sha 'd past , of Wife , Mother , and Mayd , and left them all at strife Which state she most had honoured in her life , At last , ( too worthy of this world below ) She dyed , and to a higher World did go , To honour there the state of Angels too . Of Henry Petre , Son to the Lord William Petre. THough , noble Petre , thou long since didst dye , Thou still dost live yet in my Memory ; To shew the knot of friendship 'twixt us two Was tyed so fast , as death cou'd ne'r undo . On the BARBADOES . HOw rich Barbadoes is in other things , We well may see by 'th' wealthy trade it brings : How rich it is in men , we well may see , By bringing forth , brave Drax , such men as thee . A question on a Ladies letting Blood. Q. OF this just mixture and equality Of Water and Blood , what shou'd the reason be ? Resp. The Reason's clear ; forced to part with her , Each drop of Blood for grief did shed a Tear. Of Neglects . LEt it not trouble thee , if any wou'd Put a Neglect upon thee if they cou'd . But minde it not , and thy Neglect will be More great of them , then their's can be of thee . In Avaros . WHo wholly spends his life in getting Wealth , And to encrease his store , consumes himself , We well may to that foolish sot compare , Who sold his Horse , to buy him provender . The Anagram . EVery one may see by this , How worthy Lawrel , Waller is , When look but on his Anagram , You find it in his very Name . On Simple . SImple made much ado , and much offence He took , at saying he scarce had common sence ; Till saying he had , and very common too , Simple was plea'd , and made no more ado . On Madam Virago . OF Madam it may well be sed That Madam's head has little Wit , Since Madam's Husband is her head , And Madam makes a fool of it . On his praising of Many . I Many praise ; and what th' are praised for I 'm sure is true : I 'll answer for no more . On Friends and Foes . TWo Painters , Friend and Foe , once went about To Paint Antigones , whose one Eye was out : T' one at half-face , his Friend's defect to hide , Set onely forth to sight his better side ▪ T' other o' th' contrary , did paint him so , He onely set his blinde side out to show . So between Friends and Foes men are exprest By halfs set forth whil'st they conceal the rest . None as their Friends and Foes depaint them wou'd , Being ever half so bad , or half so good . To a Friend ; Recommending a Memorial to him , Anno 52. I Must beg of you Sir , nay ! what is more , 'T is a disease so Infectious to be poor , Must beg you 'd beg for me , which whilst I do , What is 't , but even to make you begger too ? But poverty being as honourable now As 't was when Cincinnatus held the Plow , Senators Sow'd , and Reap't ; and who had bin In Car of Tryumph , fetcht the Harvest in . Whil'st mighty Peers do want , nay ! what is worse , Even greatest Princes live on others Purse ; And very Kings themselves are beggers made , No shame for any , Sir , to be o' th' Trade . To an Enemy . WHen ere thou seest me take delight In any thing , thou bursts with spight ; And so thou dost at every thing That does me good and profit bring . Thou bursts with spight , to see that I Am still in noble Company ; And honour I receive from them , Make thee to burst with spight agen . If then my honour , my delight And profit makes thee burst with spight , And all my good does prove thy ill , I pray thee burst with spight of 't still . In Pravos Aulicos . IF , as they say , Courts are like Heaven , and Kings Like Gods , sure Courtiers shou'd be holy things Like Angels : from which state when once they fall , As Devils did , the Devil take them all . On an Epicure . AN Epicure is one of those No God besides his Belly knows ; And who besides his Bill of Fare , Does for no other Scripture care : Who for his Palat and his Gust Has quite forgot all other Lust ; And hugs a Bottle as he wou'd A Mistress , when the Wine is good : Who layes about him like a Gyant , When a meets a morsel Fryant ; And so long has cram'd his Gut , He 's nothing else from Head to Foot. When you such a one do meet Or in Tavern , or in Street ; By his Bulk you may be sure Such a one 's an Epicure . On Dame Tannakin , in Burlesque verse . TO tell you what Dame Tannakin was For Beauty both of person and face ; Her face was good , if with faces at least It goes as with Bucklers , the broadest the best ; And person fair , if with fairness it goes In Women but as in Cattle it does . In plainer Terms , without mincing the matter , She had a face as broad as a Platter , And person such , to see 't you 'd fancy 'T were some Dutch Iugg come from beyond Sea , Which made her look like a Bawd or a Midwife , And as unweildy as Vrsula the Pigwife . As for the qualities of her Interiour , Which to the rest were nothing Inferiour , She car'd for none , and 't was less to be piti'd , Since none car'd for her , and so they were fitted : And was such a Scrat at making a Bargain , As she wou'd wrangle and scold for a Farthing . In fine , she was so very a Devil , As all her delight was in doing of Evil. From whom Good Heaven deliver Great Britany , And so I make an end of my Lytany . To a Lady newly Married . YOu having wholly chang'd your State of life From that of Virgin , unto that of Wife , And , what is yet more uncouth , even your name And family being changed with the same : No wonder , Madam , at so great a change , That all shou'd seem unto you new and strange ; And even you your self do hardly know Whether as yet you be your self or no. So those who to the Elyzian shades do come , At first are lost in Admiration , Till growing more familiar by degrees , At last they all their Admiration leese . And Marriage is that blest Elyzian shade , Where those who truly love , are happy made , As you 'll experience now y' are thither come , And so you are welcome to Elyzium . To his Horse at grass in C. Park . AFter my hearty Commendations , Hoping thou hast nor Botts nor Fassions , But art in good health , and as pleasant As I 'm at writing of this present ; I having like a careful Master Left thee i' th' Country there at Pasture , And well considering the danger Of one like thee who 's but a stranger , Send thee these few Instructions down How th' art to live whilst I 'm in Town , First then , if Serving-man or Groom To take thee up , does flattering come , With Bridle in hand and Oats in Sieve , Run from 'm fast as thou canst drive . For if they once but get that haunt , Imployment thou shalt never want : Grey Flecknoe here , Grey Flecknoe there , Grey Flecknoe must go every where , Till thou of every one does back thee Become at last the Common Hackney . Next , I need not bid thee fly All such wild Rambling company May lead thee over Hedge and Ditches , As if they 'd Bryars in their Britches , Till for their Penance they be found Half starv'd at last in Country-Pound . Nor need I bid thee to be beware Of playing Horse-tricks there with Mare , Since being Marr'd by Squire Sow-guelder For ever getting Hans in Kelder , I imagine there 's no great danger Thou shou'dst or Stallion prove or Ranger . As for the rest , I know my Lady Will take all care of thee as may be , And thou perchance at last be made A Horse of quality and parade . And so I leave thee to thy Pasture , And remain Thy Loving Master , R. F. POSTSCRIPT . To the Lady of the place . NOw Madam , since my Horse can't read , Be pleas'd to do it in his stead ; And so Interpret this my Letter , As he may understand it better . Of your Fanaticks or Cross-haters . WHo will not be Baptiz'd , onely because In Baptism they make the signe o' th' Cross ▪ And hates all Christendom in such a manner , Onely because they bear that signe for Banner . Who with the Cross makes as unchristian work Where ere he comes , as Pagan , Iew , or Turk : And on his way , does flye a Cross-stile so , He 'll rather chuse a Mile about to go : Who seeing how every one in Swimming does Stretch forth their limbs & make the signe o' th' Cross Were he to Swim , rather than make ( I think ) The signe o' th' Cross , he 'd sooner chuse to sink : To show , in fine , how well the Devil and he In hating of the signe o' th' Cross agree . Of their burning the POPE . WHat rumour 's this o' th' burning of the Pope ? They do not take this wisp for him , I hope ; Or man of straw whom they have thus dress't up With Triple Crown , as if he were the Pope ? He sits at Rome , and cares not what they do , Though they should burn all th' signes o' th' Popes head too . Though other Princes wonder they shou'd dare Do this to those who Soveraigne Princes are ! For shame then cease your mad Phanatick sport , By which your selves , and not the Pope you hurt ; And do not make your selves and Nation thus To him and all the world ridiculous : As I have seen some mad Dogg bite a stone , To be reveng'd on him by whom 't was thrown ; Whil'st unconcern'd , he smiling stands , and seeth How they in vain do spoil and break their teeth . If 't be to make the Papists odious by 't , That all your Squibs and Bonefires are to night , There 's none but knows they might as well remember Your Ianuary , as you do their November . Of Modern EPIGRAMS . HOw stramgely Wit 's refin'd from what it was When empty words for Epigrams might pass ! But now they must have substance in 'em too , Or else the Tinckling sound will hardly do . Then when they heard a Clench or Quible spoke , They 'd claw you for 't , as if some Iest were broke . Now when they hear but any such Toyes sed , The Wits are ready strait to break your head ; Who just as Chymists when they Spirits make Of matter which they from gross Bodies take . So never leave a Lembecking of Wit , Till they extract th' Elixar out of it : So goes the world ; nor must we think it strange , The fashion of our Wits with time shou'd change . 'T is so we see with fashion of our Clothes , And why not of our Wits as well as those ? Of WITS . WIts like Hawkes are for their sport ; Some are long wing'd , some are short : The first do flye so high a flight , They often sour quite out of sight ; The second , far the fitter for ye , Keep 'um close unto the Quarry Nor too low , nor yet too high : Of this latter sort am I. 〈…〉 Book . L'ENVOYE . I Shou'd never make an end of these Epigrams , which like a flowing River by the continual accession of new parts , and revolution of the old , you may go twice in two , and not twice into the same again , had I not considered that I am now arriv'd to such an Age , when it Imports more to seek to make a good end of my Life , than of my Book : Wherefore I give it over , with this Resolution , to retire , for greater quietness , into some Solitude , where when I dye , I desire to be onely remembred by this Epitaph . A vita fide vixit & mortuus est . FINIS .