decorative border FUNERAL TEARS. For the death of the Right Honourable the Earl of Devonshire. FIGURED In seven songs, whereof six are so set forth that the words may be expressed by a triple voice alone to the Lute and Base Viol, or else that the mean part may be added, if any shall affect more fuinesse of parts. THE seventh Is made in form of a Dialogue, and ca●not be sung without two voices. Invented by JOHN COPRARIO. Pius piè. printer's device of John Windet (1584-1611) consisting of an old man receiving gifts from the clouds; two doves at his feet bearing scrolls with the words "Peace" and "Plentie"; and the motto "Thou shalt labor for" or "For thou shalt labor" (McKerrow 282) FOR THOU SHALT LABOUR PEACE PLENTY AT LONDON Printed by john Windet the Assign of Will●am Barley, for john Browne, and are to be sold at his shop in S. Dunston's Churchyard in Fleet s●reet. 1606. uno Sol Mountioie tuus contentus ocello est, Cuncta tamen cernit, nihil est oculatius illo. Omnia qui ut videat magnus quae continet orbis, Cernere te potuit toto nil pulchrius orb. jam tuus ah periit pulcher Sol, dulcis ocellus Penelope, periit nec tamen ille tibi. Qui Mortalis inexplendo te amplexus amore est, Quid ni Coelestis te quoque factus amet? To the Air Even to thy sweetness pure benign, kind Air That first embraced these tears, these I present. Know them, though now transformed from Crystal fair Th' appear to thee in Musical ornament: Free passage to melodious piercing sounds Thine open bosom yields: grief owes to thee Her groans, and sighs: through thy swift-healed wounds Her shrieks are shot, and thine her clamours be. Receive then cheerful Air these sad laments, Though thou art but one Element, and she That owes them, of all four the quintessence, The Star of honour, and the sphere of beauty. Go, hear her sing these farewells, thou wilt weep, And movelesse ever in thy regions sleep. Sing Lady, sing thy Deu'nshires' funerals, And charm the Air with thy delightful voice, Let lighter spirits grace their Madrigals, Sorrow doth in the saddest notes rejoice. Fairest of Ladies since these Songs are thine, Now make them as thou art thyself, divine. The devoted servant of true nobleness. john Coprario. In honourable memory of the Right noble the Earl of Devonshire late deceased. No sooner had the Fates pale Minister At th' high command of stern Necessity Seized the terrestrial part of Devonshire, And rendered his free Soul t' Eternity: But lo th' imperfect brood of fruitful Fame (That swarming thick as atom is buzz in th' air) Light winged Rumours in right of their Dame Claimed great Mountroyes name, with swift repair Heaving it up to Fame's high Cousistorie, Where she with doom impartial register All names t' Eternal fame, or infamy, And in her final judgement never errs. You sacred seed of Mnemosine pardon me If in this sudden rapture I reveal Mist'rie, which only ravished sprights can see, And envious time did till this hour conceal. In Crystal chair when starlike shining Fame Her state had placed, straight with confused noise The thronging miscreates brought in Deu'nshires' name, Some figuring lamentations, others joys: Some wept, some sobbed, some howled, some laughed, some smiled, And as their passions strange, and different were, So were their shapes, such heaps were never piled Of Monstrous heads as now consorted here. For some like Ape's peer out, like foxes some, Many like Asses, Wolves, and Oxen seemed, Like hissing Serpents, and fell Hydra's some, Rhinoceroes' some by their armed snowtes I deemed, Others like Crocodiles hang their sly heads down: But infinite of human form appear Whose simple looks were void of smile or frown, Yet somewhat sad they showed like skies uncleare: In this confusion the great Registresse Commanding silence seu'rallie gave leave To all reports, and with mild soberness Both partial, and impartial did receive. First as accusers spoke this busy Ape, The envious bold Wolf, and the spiteful snake, And divers in the braying Asses shape, But all their malice did one period make. Deu●nshire did love▪ love was his error made, That only 'gainst his virtues was opposed, As if for that his honoured name should fade, Whose breast both virtue, and true love enclosed. But now rise high my sprite, while I unfold What th' human speakers in defence replied: To latter ages let this tale be told Which is by fame for ever verified. Did Mountioy love? and did not Hercules Feel beauties flame, and couch him underneath The wings of Cupid? or did ere the less His sacred brows deserve a victors wreath? Did not he free the trembling world from fear, And dire confusion? who else could subdue Monsters that innocents did spoil, and tear, Or Saturn's ancient golden peace renew? Did Mountioy love? and did not Mountioyes sword When he marched armed with palace dreadful helm The rough unquiet Irish rebels curb? And the invading Spaniard overwhelm? Loved he? and did not he netheless assist Great Britain's counsils, and in secret cells The Muses visit? and alone untwist The riddles of deep Philosophic spells? Did Deu'nshire love? and loved not Deu'nshire so As if all beauty had for him been framed? For beauty more adorned no age shall know Then hers whom he his own for ever named. Let then base envy break, fond rumour sleep, Black malice turn to dove-white charity, Let Deu'nshire triumph, and his honour keep Immune, and clear from dark mortaliie. This spoken, Fame charged Zephyrus to sound His golden trumpet, after whose smooth blast These words she made from earth to heaven rebound, Brave Mountioyes glory shall for ever last. Then forth was brought abossed book destined For Kings, and Heroes, where with liquid gold Deceased Deu'nshires' name she registered In charmed letters that can near grow old. Omnia vincit Amor, & nos cedamus Amori, Scripsit; cuius erant nescia scripta mori. Annuit huic fortis Mountioius, victus Amori Cessit; cuius erunt nescia facta mori. I. CANTO OFt thou hast with gree╌die ear, drunk my notes & words of pleasure In af╌fectionss equal measure sure now my songs of sorrow hear, since from thee my griefs do grow whom a╌live I prised so dear. The more my joy the more my joy the more the more my woe. Oft thou hast with greedy care, Drunk my notes and words of pleasures In affections equal measure, Now my songs of sorrow hear. Since from thee my griefs do grow Whom alive I prized so dear: The more my joy, the more my woe. 2 Music though it sweetens pain Yet no whit impairs lamenting: But in passions like consenting Makes them constant that complain: And enchants their fancies so, That all comforts they disdain, And fly from joy to dwell with woe. I. BASSO. I. ALTO OFt thou hast with greedy care with greedy care drunk my notes and words of plea╌sure: in affections equal mea╌sure, now my songs now my songs of sorrow sorrow hear, since from thee my griefs do grow, whom alive I pris'de so dear: the more my joy the more my joy, the more my woe, the more my woe. II. CANTO O sweet flower, O sweet flower too quickly fa╌ding, like a winter sun╌shine day: poor pilgrim tired poor pilgrim tired in the mid╌way like the earth itself half shading So thy picture so thy picture shows to me, but only the one half of thee. O sweet flower too quickly fading, Like a Winter sunshine day: Poor pilgrim tired in the midway, Like the Earth itself half shading. So thy picture shows to me, But only the one half of thee. 2 O dear joy too swiftly flying From thy loves enchanted eyes: Proud glory spread through the vast skies, Earth of more than earth envying. O how wondrous hadst thou been, Had but the world thy whole life seen. II. BASSO. II. ALTO O Sweet flower, O sweet flower too quickly fa╌ding, like a Winter Sunne╌shine day, poor Pilgrim tired in the mid way like the earth itself, itself, half sha╌ding╌ So thy picture shows to me only the one half of thee. III. CANTO O O th'unsure hopes of men the brittle state the vain contentions that unlucki╌lie oft in midst of the race oft in midst of the race fall ru╌inate. And in their course long over╌whelmed be, and swal╌lowed up, ere they the port could see. O th'unsure hopes of men! the brittle state! The vain contentions that unluckily, Oft in midst of the race fall ruinated, And in their course long overwhelmed be, And swallowed up ere they the port could see. 2 O women's fruitless love! unquiet state! Too dear affections, that despitefully, Even in their height of bliss prove desolate! And often fall far from all hope of joy. Ere they have time to dream on their annoy. III. BASSO. III. ALTO O Th' unsure hopes of men, the brittle state, the vain contentions that un╌lucki╌lie, oft in midst of the race, oft in midst of the race fall ruinated. And in their course long overwhelmed be, and swallowed up ere they, ere they the port could see. FOUR CANTO IN darkness let me dwell, the ground shall sorrow, sorrow be the roof de╌spaire to bar all cheerful light from me the walls of marble black that moistened still shall weep, my music my music hellish jarring sounds to banish friendly sleep. Thus wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb O let me dying live, O let me dying live, O let me dying live till death doth come till death doth come. In darkness let me dwell, the ground shall sorrow be, The roof despair to bar all cheerful light from me, The walls of marble black that moistened still shall weep, My music hellish jarring sounds to banish friendly sleep. Thus wedded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb, O let me dying live till death doth come. My dainties grief shall be, and tears my poisoned wine, My sighs the air, through which my panting heart shall pine My robes my mind shall suit exceeding blackest night, My study shall be tragic thoughts sad fancy to delight. Pale Ghosts and frightful shades shall my acquaintance O thus my hapless joy I haste to thee. FOUR BASSO. FOUR ALTO IN darkness let me dwell, the ground the ground shall sorrow be, The roof despair to bar all cheerful light from me, from me, The walls of mar╌ble black that moi╌stned still shall weep, My music hellish jarring sounds to banish friendly sleep. Thus wed╌ded to my woes, and bedded in my tomb, and bedded in my tomb, O let me O let me dying live, dying live, O let me dying live, till death doth come, till death doth come. V CANTO MY joy is dead and cannot be re╌uiu'de, fled is my joy And never may return. both of my joy and of myself deprived, far from all joy I sing and singing mourn. O let no tender heart, O let no tender heart or gentle ear partake my passions or my plaininges hear. My joy is dead, and cannot be revived, Fled is my joy, and never may return: Both of my joy, and of myself deprived Far from all joy I sing, and singing mourn. O let no tender heart, or gentle ear Partake my passions, or my plain hear. 2 Rude flinty breasts that never felt remorse, Hard craggy rocks that death and ruin love, Those only those my passions shall enforce, Beyond their kind, and to compassion move. My grief shall wonders work, for he did so That caused my sorrows, and these tears doth owe. V BASSO. V ALTO MY joy is dead, is dead, and cannot be revived, fled is my joy, and never may re╌turne, both of my joy, and of myself deprived far from all joy I sing, and singing mourn. O let no ten╌der heart, O let no tender heart or gentle ear, or gentle ear par╌take my passions, or my play╌ninges hear. VI CANTO Deceitful fancy deceitful fancy why de╌udst thou me, the dead a╌live presenting? My joys fair Image carved in shades I see, O false O false yet sweet contenting? Why art not thou a substance like to me, or I a shade to vanish hence with thee? Deceitful fancy why delud'st thou me, The dead a live presenting? My joys fair image carved in shades I see, O false! yet sweet contenting? Why art not thou a substance like to me? Or I a sha●e to vanish hence with thee? 2 Stay gentle object, my sense still deceive, With this thy kind elusion: I die through madness if my thoughts you leave O strange? yet sweet confusion? Poor blisselesse hat that feels such deep annoy, Only to lose the shadow of thy joy. VI BASSO. VI ALTO Deceitful fancy, deceitful fancy, why de╌lud'st thou me, The dead alive presenting: My joys fair image carved in shades I see, O false, O false, yet sweet conten╌ting. Why art not thou a substance like to me, or I a shade to vanish hence with thee. VII. CANTO A Dialogue. FOe of mankind, why murder'st thou my love Oh where? Oh where? poor wretched life that only lives in name. That is true fame that is true fame which living men enjoy. live ever, live ever through thy meri╌ted renown, renown fair spirit shining, fair spirit shining in thy starry crown, thy starry crown. Canto. Foe of mankind why murderest thou my love? Alto. Forbear he lives. C. Oh where? A. In heaven above. C. Poor wretched life that only lives in name. A. Man is not flesh, but soul, all life is fame: C. That is true fame which living men enjoy. A. That is true life, which death cannot destroy. Chorus. Live ever through thy merited renown. Fair spirit shining in thy starry crown. VII. BASSO. VII. ALTO FOr bear he lives in heaven above Man is not flesh but soul, all life is fame: That is true life, that death cannot destroy live ever, live ever through thy me╌ri╌ted renown, fair spirit shining, fair spirit shining, in thy starry crown, 'tIs true, that whom the Italian * Tarantula Spider stings He sings, or laughs, or dances till he dies, Or spends his short time in such idle things As the severer sort call vanities: Music alone this fury can release, This venomous rancour that the flesh doth eat Like envy which in death doth seldom cease To feed upon the honours of the great. Well have we toiled in prosperous harmony If we the envy poisoned wounds do cure Of spiteful adder-toongd hypocrisy That speaks washed words, but works dark deeds impure. If such prove past recure, suffice it then We sung not to brute beast, but human men. A Table of the Songs contained in this Book. 1. Oft thou hast 2. O sweet flower. 3. O the unsure hopes. 4. In darkness let me dwell. 5. My joy is dead. 6. Deceitful fancy. 7. Foe of Mankind. Quid mortuos mordes canis? nihil retro Cernis, neque vides manticae quod in tergo est. The dead why bit'st thou dog? thou'rt backward blind, And dost not see the bag thou bearest behind.