The dvtie of Sir Francis Wortley deliniated in his piovs pitty and christian commiseration of the sorrowes and sufferings of the most vertuous yet unfortunate Lady Elisabeth Queene of Bohemia being a dedication to fame and trvth : prefer'd to both Houses of Parliament / by ... Sir Francis Wortley ... Wortley, Francis, Sir, 1591-1652. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A67118 of text R22134 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing W3636). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 14 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 6 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A67118 Wing W3636 ESTC R22134 12740953 ocm 12740953 93133 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. A67118) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 93133) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 254:E165, no 16) The dvtie of Sir Francis Wortley deliniated in his piovs pitty and christian commiseration of the sorrowes and sufferings of the most vertuous yet unfortunate Lady Elisabeth Queene of Bohemia being a dedication to fame and trvth : prefer'd to both Houses of Parliament / by ... Sir Francis Wortley ... Wortley, Francis, Sir, 1591-1652. [2], 8 p. Printed by R. O. for F. W., London : 1641. In verse. Reproduction of original in Thomason Collection, British Library. eng Elizabeth, -- Queen, consort of Frederick I, King of Bohemia, 1596-1662. Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649. A67118 R22134 (Wing W3636). civilwar no The dutie of Sir Francis VVortley; deliniated, in his pious pitty, and Christian commiseration of the sorrowes and sufferings of the most ve Wortley, Francis, Sir 1641 2187 25 0 0 0 0 0 114 F The rate of 114 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the F category of texts with 100 or more defects per 10,000 words. 2004-04 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2004-04 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-05 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2004-05 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-07 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE DVTIE OF SIR FRANCIS VVORTLEY ; Deliniated , IN HIS PIOVS PITTY , and Christian Commiseration of the Sorrowes and Sufferings of the most vertuous , yet unfortunate Lady ELISABETH Queene of BOHEMIA . BEING A Dedication to FAME and TRVTH : Prefer'd to both the Houses of Parliament . BY Her humble Servant and Honourer , Sir FRANCIS WORTLEY Knight and Barronet . LONDON , Printed by R. O. for F. W. MDCXLI . THE SORROVVES AND SVFFERINGS OF THE MOST VERTVOVS LADY ELIZABETH Queene of BOHEMIA . IF all the VERTVES which the Critticks call VERTVES Divine , and VERTVES Cardinall , If these together mixt with ROYALL BLOOD Can scarcely make a Claime to merit Good ; If HER great Merits could not impetrate So much , as not to bee Unfortunate , And in Mis-fortunes to exceed so farre , As if the worst of all her Sexe Shee were : How light would our best works be in Heavn's skale , If Shee thus farre in point of Merit faile . Had Shee beene Romes , her Supererrogation Had beene sufficient for the BRITTISH Nation ; And would have made the Papall Sea as great As Rome was , when it was Augustus Seat : Who would not have a blessed Pilgrim beene Had hee ere read the Story of this Queene ? Had not the Romane Doctrine beene disputed That others Merits cannot bee imputed ; The Anti-nomists ( though th' are very loath To trust to Works ) their threed bare Faiths would cloath In her rich Merits ; so ev'n they might hope By Merits to be sav'd without a POPE . The Character of Patience IOB even hee Must loose some glory , if compar'd with thee : The Story of thy Sufferings who can tell ? This I dare say , it hath no Paralell . Thou wer 't the Daughter of a mighty KING , Great CHRLES his onely Sister , and didst bring A Portion worthy the Imperiall CROWNE Besides the greatest Portion was thine owne . 'T was for Thy sake the German PRINCES did Set BOHEMS Crowne upon thy Husbands head : They saw good Queene thy Vertues were so great , They would have plac'd Thee on th' Imperiall Seat . All these Thou lost at once ; that we may see The Gods on Earth have a capacity Of fatall change , that Kings and Queenes may know There are no fixed Fortunes here below : Lord what a Sea of Princely Christian Blood Hath beene powr'd out to make Thy TITLE good , Thou and thy King with a distracted Traine Before Thy Foes fled and pursu'd amaine ▪ Thy Husband banish't from his Native Soyle , Friends , Cities , Country made a wofull spoile , And sack't ; the Plague , the Famine , Fire and Sword , Were glutted all , Nature the sights abhor'd : Yet as enough thy patience was not try'd , Thy Gold in new Fires must bee purify'd ; Thy first-borne Sonne which was the greatest losse With Ayry Nailes was fixt upon the Crosse T'wixt Heav'n and Water , and the Vessell drown'd , There frozen to the Mast was next day found : Then Swedens King that thunderbolt of warre , Who ( had he liv'd ) had beene an Emperour Had rais'd your Husbands heart , that he espi'd Some glimmering hopes , and in that twilight dy'd , Before thou canst recover such a Crosse Sad newes was brought thee of another losse , That great GVSTAVUS was untimely slaine , ( As 't was suppos'd with Pistols sent from Spaine ) Whose Martiall Soule not us'd to be said nay In it's ascention got a glorious Day , As in his Iourney it the Plannets past , 'T was so much honour'd , their great Mars at last Began to feare , he could not choose but see His Legends did encline to mutinie , And joyn'd together would a Councell call , To make that Spirit of his their Generall . Never the Soule of any King ascended Who had from Earth to Heav'n bin more commended : My Muse growes weary with this Tragick Story ( Nor could I force her ) were it not her Glory Whom it concernes ; now to the last I come , ( So may it be ) her brave Heroique Sonne Whose sweetnesse heere , had so much honor got , Except the Queene , few have so great a Stock , In Court and Countrey both , nor could I see A kinder Father ; saving Majesty , Then our King was , and seldome have I seene A kinder Mother then our vertuous Queene : When this sweet Prince had here try'd some few friends , And had propounded to the King his ends ; He ●hips himselfe , needs but to hoyse halfe saile , Left prayers and sighs should raise too strong a gale ▪ Words are but ayre , and prayers but words informe , T is but excesse of Aire that makes a storme . Austria too long for Iustice had beene suited , Their Cause must now with sharp swords be disputed . Our Kings and they with Treaties were deluded , Both she and hers by Act of State excluded From all their rights ; an Army then they rais'd On such a sodaine , it the World amaz'd ; He brings them to the Field , besieg'd a Towne Which to th'Imperialists was quickly knowne . Two distant Armies correspondence hold , Which made ev'n both the Armies far more bold , The lesser dares him out , keepes him in play ; Meane while the stronger marches night and day , And got behind him , to his passage make , Which with their Horse too strong for his , they take : When the Prince saw his Army thus inclos'd , He cal'd a Councell ; he himselfe suppos'd 'T was best to charge those which the passage kept , Which all agreed on , and before they slept , They march away , though they were almost tyr'd , And overwatch't , their Frenches then they fir'd : Into Brigadoes they their strength divide , Flanker their Foot with Horse on either side : Their strength was horse , their Baggage they inclose , Guarded their Cannon ; then he Craven chose , And to his charge he did commit the Uan , Who prov'd himselfe that day a daring man ; And shewd himselfe so faithfull and so bold , His name is in the Booke of Fame inrol'd , He and his Brother did bring up the Reare , Whose high-borne spirits did that day appeare : Craven charg'd home and did them so dismay , But for their fresh supplyes h'ad won the day : The Battels joyne , th'Imperialists increast , And as they grew , death had the greater feast The reare came bravely up , the young Prince he In thirst of honour , sense of injury , Himselfe to such high hazards hee expos'd , As hee was often by his Foes inclos'd : Yet vvho inclos'd him , or inforc'd his stay , He by their ruines made himselfe still way ▪ But vvhen Prince Robert the brave second Sonne ( Who 'mongst the Soldiers hath such honour won ) Heard that his Princely Brother vvas ingag'd , With love and Martiall fury both inrag'd , Through troops of foot and horse , he forc'd his vvay And finds him freed , yet there he vvould not stay , He forvvard prest into the greatest throng Of all his Foes ; his sword there told his wrong ▪ He pickt out their Commanders vvhom he knevv , By marks were giv'n him , those he took or slevv ; Whole Troops of Horse and Foot his fury flye , Those he encounters , must or yeeld , or dye : ' I was happinesse to them who did command , Since they must die , to die by such a hand . His Horse , his Armes , his very Sword was tyr'd , That spirit of his twice Samsons strength requir'd ; And would their Waggons with rich spoiles have laded , Nay all those Troops of German Horse have jaded ; And thus retir'd they block him up they say , For none durst charge , 't were thought the safest vvay : Have you ere seene a chased Lion stand With toyles encompas'd , and on every hand With Hunters gall'd ; yet none the Lists dare enter Left he too dearely pay for his adventure . Whilst all the Hunters various vvayes contrive To take this Lion ( if they can ) alive : So gall'd and vveary brave Prince Robert stood , The earth about him dy'd vvith German Blood ; At last a troop of desp'rate Men they horst Who on all sides assault him ; so infors't With multitudes , vvhen all the vvayes they 'd try'd , Thy took him living , vvho vvould faine haue dy'd : Which newes too soone did through the Army flye ▪ And that the Enemies had a fresh supply , Who had encompas't them on every side : In every face that after this newes dy'd , Hee who had skill in Phisnomy might finde How to revenge the Soldiers vvere inclin ▪ d : 'T is true they lost the day ; but they behav'd Themselves so bravely , they their Honour sav'd ; The meanest Soldiers by example led Mixed in Troops with Enemies lay dead . The Palsgrave was adviz'd to quit the Field , Which he refus'd , and scorn'd so much to yeeld : Being rudely prest he cuts himselfe away Through all those Troops , none durst inforce his stay ; He to the Wesen comes , into it leapt , Which him as safely as its Soveraigne kept ; His sprightly Steed so bravely landed him , As if he had great Neptunes Dolphin beene . 'T is true the waves in multitudes increast , And crouded in to welcome such a Guest ▪ Yet so obedient were to their commands The proudest wave there durst but kisse his hands . Thus landed safely on proud Wesens banks , He lifts his eyes up , and gives Heaven the thanks ; With such a confidence to Heav'n he prayes , H'ad Solomon blessings given , and length of dayes ▪ You who were once deare Wives ▪ sad Widdowes now , Mothers of Children , who have kept each row , Either to Heav'n , or to your Husbands made , Think how the Queene was with this newes dismaied ▪ But you were never Daughters to a King ▪ Nor did such Portions to your Husbands bring ▪ The Worlds great love to you hath never cost , It any blood you have no Kingdomes lost No hopes of Empire ; there 's no Prince hath try'd His forttune in your cause , no Kings hav● dy'd In your just quarrell , you have no 〈…〉 Estates , Or if you have , not two Palatinates : Your eldest Sonne was not in Ship-wrack lost , Nor was your second on the Wesen tost ; Your third not taken pris'ner by his Foes ; Had you all these , and not such sonnes as those ; How can you , or how dare you judge of Hers , But as poore Vassals speake of Emperours ? They doe beleeve at Court there are such things ▪ As they have heard , their Magistrates call Kings , Like those that dare the Starres by name recite , Or count by ▪ Unites to an infinite : Th' are forc'd to end where they at first begin ▪ And so in arrogance commit a sinne ▪ So should you rob this good Queene of her Glorie , But I much more in telling this sad Storie ▪ In this I doe but as most people use ▪ I with a greater wrong a lesse excuse , That which my naked Muse should cover ( Love ▪ ) In this case doth my disadvantage prove ; The World stands to affected to Her Story ▪ No Muse ( I know ) but would impaire Her glory ▪ The Competition might grave Homer raise ▪ Or Maro's soule to sing the good Queenes praise : Who ere he be he needs not to complaine ; For this high Subject will enrich his Straine , And imp the proudest feather of his wing , That with the Larke he may mount high and sing Ev'n to the admiration of the Quire , Suit but the Subject , and none can sing higher . FINIS .