Fame's windy trump blew up this haughty mind  
To do or wish, to do what here you find:  
'Twas were held error yet in errand Knights  
(Which privilege he claims) to dress their fights  
In high hyperboles: for youth's example  
To make their minds as they grow men, grow ample.  
Thus such achievements are assayed and done  
As pass the common power and sense of man.  
Then let high spirits strive to imitate,  
Not what he did, but what he doth relate.    


The LEGEND of CAPTAIN JONES: the first & 2d part.   

Printed for R. Marriott & are sold at his shop under the Kings head Tavern in Fleet street near Chancery-lane en●    

THE LEGEND OF Captain JONES.  
RELATING His adventure to Sea: His first landing, and strange combat with a mighty Bear.  
His furious battle with his six and thirty men, against the Army of eleven Kings, with their overthrow and deaths.  
His relieving of Kemper Castle.  
His strange and admirable Sea-fight with six huge Galleys of Spain, and nine thousand Soldiers.  
His taking Prisoner, and hard usage.  
Lastly, His setting at liberty by the King's command, and return for England.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Marriot, and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstan's Church yard Fleetstreet, 1656.   

To the READER.  

REader, y'have here the Mirror of the times,  
Old Jones wrapped in his colours, and my rhymes.  
Receive him fairly (prey;) nor censure how,  
Or what he tells: the matter he'll avow.  
And for the form he speaks in, I'll maintain it,  
It comes as near his vain as I could strain it.  
For 'twere improper to set forth an Ass  
Capparisoned, and panel a great horse.  
My part claims no inventions praise: for (know it)  
Where ere there's fiction in't, there he's the Poet.  
His last deeds here epitomised, entreat  
Some thundering pen to set them forth complete.  
Let him whose lofty Muse will deign to do it,  
Drink Sack and Gunpowder, and so fall to it.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
P. E.   

After Captain Jones his great Conquest in the Indies, these Verses were engraven on a Pillar of Gold, in the famous City of Chiapa.  

HAvacun! atsiquinta, rucar, ruchaquit, a holom,  
Rutsi vutsiquin Jonos, quintacque Britanno;  
In rutisba Dios, chiru narapata tiquita,  
Xalocohta naloc quinquimi, nava tinuloc,  
Chaquil Ruchaquil, Don Spanos, Cacaracarta  
Inra Ixnulocosh Europon quincol amoloh,  
Chinaloconta nucam quiti Chicata Chiapa,  
Mecoacana many quinraphi tilcona rutat,  
Inrurapa cochor vilcat Cacunta, Chalocoh  
Havocohta ruvac, Rixim car nucar avixim;  
Ixloconhita quimac, avix inreca corochi,  
Pan Nutsi nuchac, quinrochi nutisba China;  
Chipam Rumoloh●mac, numac taxa veronquil  
Chyrvo capat quiro vinac navecata maniquir,  
Chilocontho Navos nutacqui Coave-caca,  
Quinvani vilquin Xinvi nucamca tivito.    

By the assistance of Mr. Gage his rules to learn that Indian Tongue called Poconchi, thus faithfully and verbatim translated into English.  

HO Passenger! Behold, read, understand,  
Great Jones a Britain conquered all this Land;  
In thirteen days twelve Kings he overthrew,  
And millions of Savages he slew:  
At last the Spanish Dons with all their force  
Of Indian foot, and European Horse  
Surprised him near Chiap●, where he stood  
Five hours in fight covered with fire and blood;  
And in that furious conflict, all his men  
Who were once thirty six reduced to ten,  
With those few blades, and his own mighty Arm,  
He did repulse them without spell or charm:  
Then to his Ship retreated; and to show  
'Twas Glory and not Gold he did pursue,  
Of all the spoils he took but one rich Cup,  
And as much Gold as made this Pillar up.   
This Monument stood Undefaced 1588. But Immediately after was demolished by the Envy of the Spaniards, and the Gold converted to other uses.  
E. LL.   

On the REVIVAL of Captain JONES.  

WHy shak'st thou Coward Hand, dost drop the Pen  
Honoured to limne the Prodigy of Men?  
What means this strange Surprisal that unknitts  
Thy joints, possessing them with Palzied Fits?  
Who dares (dread Hero) offer to thy Fame,  
(Without Apollo's Call) must feel the same.  
Moved by pure zeal to Honour, thus I run  
A young Enthusiast the Priests among,  
Trembling to pay my Mite. Welcome once more  
To us, Great Britain's Mars; our joys run o'er  
To see the truth of a Platonique year  
Confirmed in thee; so bright dost thou appear  
Decked with thy valour's Rays: Poets (who can  
Make Gods) have raised thee up thou Godlike Man.  
What brave Revenge hadst they'd on thy old Foe,  
Hadst thou but breathed our Air some months ago?  
Thou, and thy six and thirty set on shore  
In Hispaniola, wouldst have acted more  
Than was (I blushing write it) done by—  
And— with their ten thousand men.  
I acquiesce, and leave to higher Forms  
Thy stern deportment in all Fights and storms,  
Who draw at large, and well; my single Hint  
Is a Pertentous Act in a small Print.  
Reward those who again have made thee breath,  
With Laurel ta'en from thy victorious wreath;  
I have enough t'entitle me to Fame,  
Who both a Britain, am, and of thy Name.   
H. I.   

A Supplement to the famous History of the truly valiant and Magnanimous Captain Jones.  

Look to yourselves. I see his marble frown,  
His threatening ashes challenge their renown,  
Expostulating thus. Durst your narration  
Omit those noble acts of admiration,  
Which I performed, when Aeolus denied  
Me his assistance'gainst the struggling tide?  
Never was Martial man affronted worse,  
Tyrone had bribed him to retort my course.  
Some wished me send to Lapland for a wind,  
Nay that I scorned, I had enough behind;  
Turning my postern, I sent forth a blast  
That tore the sails, and cracked the Sturdy mast,  
Hurrying my friggot with such force, that it  
Ran on a shelve, and so was like to Split.  
‛ Gramercy policy, this I foresaw,  
For such mischances I had help at Maw;  
I'd drank an Ocean up of English Beer  
Which (wanting water) I made use of here;  
I turned my Conduit pipe ote deck and Spouted,  
And filled the shore, so that Saint Patrick shouted,  
And cried, my friends this, is no time for mirth,  
Oh hone! a deluge comes to drown the earth!  
Obstructions being removed in this sort,  
At length I landed in an Irish port,  
And thought it wisdom, before they came to treat,  
To stay my stomach with a bit of meat.  
Seeing a cook hang up a stall-fed ox,  
I bade him roost him quickly with a pox;  
'tTwas quickly done: as soon as off the Spit  
My Valiant grinders Snapped it at a bit,  
Sooner than one could turn his hand about,  
As when a Pickrell swallows up a Trout.  
The Cook's amazed: what quoth I, thou thief,  
I do not eat but barrel up my beef;  
I can lay up a whole one and a half,  
The ox that Milo Carried was a calf:  
Sirrah make haste, get me some more meat dressed  
To fortify the castle of my breast.  
I mean to feed as Dromedaries do,  
Both for the present and the future too.  
Thus terrified, my foes ran to the bogs,  
And there were Metamorphosed into frogs;  
I speedily destroyed that croaking faction,  
Then could no longer live for want of action.  
Death nature's beadle took me by the hand,  
And said, Grand Captain I thee now disband,  
Abstract of valour, let thy name be blest,  
Lie down within this tomb, and take thy rest.   
R. LL.   

On Valiant Jones.  

COme see the Man, whom Mountains bred,  
Who talked high, as he was fed.  
No Court like Milk sap trained toth' fiddle,  
But yeaned i'th' Region called the middle.  
There Captain Jones his cradle chooses,  
More dangerous than that of Moses;  
For that was watched by pharao's daughter,  
The Deabe a Nurse did him look after,  
Or he for them: Come Wolf, or goat  
Who took the Nibb, and filled his throat  
Thence was allied to Brute; near Cousin  
By th' nurse's side to Romulus:  
And for his nimbleness and skipping,  
Remus (himself) could ne'er out leap him;  
This, and the warbles of his throat  
Came from the Rennet of the goat  
Curdling his gutturalls: His hair's  
All flaggy too, and rank as theirs.  
Which was resented, as was Mars  
Or Hercules for his black A—  
These were strange signs, and did betoken  
What ere was after by him spoken.  
'Twas well the wars were done before  
Lost in Lluellin and Glendore.  
Had Jones lived then, in vain th' Assales  
Of Saxons; Wales had still been Wales.   

Nay had the fates (but they denied,  
For Jones had neither barn nor bride)  
Saved but his Praepuce in Skincks fight,  
That spoilt his skirmishes by night.  
No doubt an Issue, not of's legs  
But of his Loins, for he loved eggs  
Extremely to the very bowels,  
Would have out Vavasord the powel's:  
Content us therefore with those duels  
Which no man did, or very few else,  
Related from his mouth: This Brit;  
As Caesar did, could he have writ,  
What Comments had he made? what stories  
Of Irish wolves which now are Torys?  
This Frontispiece alas! nay twenty.  
As big as this had been too scanty  
The Elephant and's Pego-man  
And Hobb's on his Leviathan,  
Nay what so ere old Inigo  
(His namesake) could have drawn for show  
Had been too small a Seen: why then  
No more, it shrivells up my Pen.    

On the Legend of Captain Jones.  

REader, be stout and credulous, for he  
Must have both Courage and credulity  
That reads this Poem; and to have enough,  
His soul should be half Chevril and half Buff:  
For Jones such things doth talk, and such things do  
As far transcend all Faith and Reason too.   

That ancient Poets that in former times,  
Extolled their Heroes with undying Rythimes;  
Must go to school to learn of Jones, for he  
At once both made and writ all Chivalry.  
There Homer and Achilles both must club  
To make one story, this must fight, that dubb.  
Which asks Time, Charge & danger; whilst bold Jones  
Does without either, raise, and kill at once;  
Tam Marti quam Mercurio, if he list,  
He could dispute, as well as fight with fist.  
With on Cuff-syllogisme confute more men  
Than Wit or Reason could convince with ten.   

'Mong all the Giants whom he robbd of breath,  
He has three signal Battles fought with Death,  
While Fame, that still hates living men, gave out,  
That Jones was conquered; and to clear the doubt,  
Employed the Wits with a lamenting pen  
In Epitaphs to kill him o'er again.   

At which enraged he rose, and swore They lie;  
Jones is not dead; I swear Jones shall not die.   
A. B.   

Upon Captain Jones Relating his own Exploits.  

Lo here great Captain Jones! in whom do dwell  
Both Mars and Mercury, God's stout and fell;  
Thou, thine own Trump, dost with a valiant voice  
Both beat thy Foes, and thy great Conquests noise;  
Thus thy Minerva lends thee speech and shield,  
Wherewith thou all things mak'st unto thee yield;  
Ajax, U●sses, both in Thee agree,  
Thy valour and thy Tongue alike are free;  
Great Alexander's Envy would have ceased,  
Nor would Achilles' fate have Spoilt his rest,  
Had but jones Poetry inspired his Soul,  
To whom, the blind man Homer's but a fool;  
Homer could only his borrowed fancy write,  
jones could do more, both strangely sane and fight;  
Caesar of all the Worthies most like Thee,  
He did both fight and tell's own History,  
Which yet compared with thy Relation  
Seems but an old threadbare narration;  
So between both how vast's the Difference,  
jones doth all Caesar's baffle, and all Sense.   
I. U. 〈◊〉   

On the same.  

AWay with Fictions, short of our stout man,  
The Poet must now turn Historian;  
His fights, his fights, his fights, his victories  
His conquests, his trophies, and yet no lies!  
What Wars were they when all each battle fell  
But Jones, and he survived, his services to tell?  
When he relates the story, an Enemy  
Truth fears to be, lest in contending she  
Too late learn due subjection; thus the tide  
Forces the waters that would gently slide:  
When our great Jones, had quite subdued the land  
He boldly puts to Sea; but here's a stand,  
The Sea of such an adversary proud  
To try'm, its waves into a storm doth crowd.  
Jones leaves his ship, he scorned such a flood,  
For he had often swum in streams of blood;  
He than such Tempests raised with arms and back,  
That th' very Ocean did fear a wrack.  
●et he would die, that th' shades might of him fear,  
And learn by Mortals woe, great Jones to fear.   
N. H.   

Upon the incomparably valiant, Captain JONES.  

WHen I do read thy Legend, Jones, and see  
Thy Fights, thy Victories, thy All, and Thee,  
I stand engaged 'twixt Wonder and Delight,  
That I can neither think, nor speak, nor write.  
My Faith thou puzzl'st, and Invention too,  
'Tis monstrous strange! but these things thou diest do,  
Alcides, Hector, are outdone by Thee,  
Thy History hath foiled all Poetry.  
Poor Hector! he by his own Valour's lost,  
But Thou survivest, and dost thy Triumphs boast.  
Herc'les, we know, hath his Non ultrà found,  
But to Thee, Jones, nor Earth, nor Sea's a Bound;  
The World from East to West, from North to South,  
To echo forth thy Fame's but one wide Mouth.  
The Earth, Great Jones, grows fruitful in thy praise,  
And all her care's to crown thy head with Bays.  
The Sea pays Homage to thee, and roars out  
Brave Jones' name, who's greater far than Cnute.  
Neptune to Thee his Trident doth resign,  
The Whales cry out with trembling, We are thine;  
And proud of thy Command, they swell the Maine,  
For thy great sake thronging into a Train;  
●hen Spain does yield to thy fierce heat; thy might  
●ostrates their doughty Don, Diego height;  
●hy arms so tossed that vapouring Admiral,  
●s if had nought been but a Tennis-ball.  
Thou didst Bears, Lions, and such Monsters quell;  
●y thy strong hand the sturdy El'phant fell.  
●e the bright Sun peeped from his Eastern bed,  
●even Kings before thy feet, brave Jones, lay dead.  
That work wouldst thou have made in one whole day,  
Hadst thou but found for thy Killzadog play?  
●ow such exploits, so strange, thou couldst achieve,  
●one ever yet could tell Brave Jones, and live.  
●ore Mortals we! the Fates have thought it fit  
●e should in wonder spend our days and wit.   
P. D. Ox.   


HAve you not heard of Jones that man of wonder  
That brought Don Diego & Mac- kill Con under  
And when he had 'em there agreed being wise,  
To run away before that they should rise?  
For'tis a Maxim; If you'd be secure,  
Still make the Relics of a Conquest sure:  
Jones still killed those that fled, and only those;  
For such tough Fellows as withstood his blows  
He scorned and spared; thinking it base to beat  
A stubborn Enemy that won't retreat.   

Amongst all those Blustering sirs that I have read  
(Whose greatest wonder is that they are dead)  
There's not any Knights, nor bold Atchivers Name,  
So much as Jones' in the Book of Fame:  
They much of Greece's Alexander brag,  
he'd put ten Alexanders in a Bag:  
Eleven fierce Kings, backed with two thousand Louts,  
Jones with a Ragged Troop beats all to Clouts.  
But sure it was a Conquest by Compact,  
For he could never be accused of fact:  
And yet no story a Romancer sings,  
That ere exploited more stupendious things;  
Quixot a winged Giant once did kill,  
That's but a flying tale, believed who will:  
This were but petty hardship, Jones was one  
Would Skin a Flint, and eat him when h'had done.   

Had Jones but been a live and seen the pother  
Betwixt Briganza's Legate and Anstrudder;  
When the fierce Portugal in high Bravado,  
(Storming th'Exchange with Pistols and Granado)  
Put the poor Pego mongers to a Rout,  
And their beloved Babbles flung about:  
he'd not have fawned upon like a Spaniel,  
jones would have kicked the Dog into the Kennel;  
And spite of Darkness made his head ring Noon,  
For daring to pluck Honour from the Moon:  
H'had died no other Death, for furious Jones  
Once fleshed, would kill ten such and make no bonos:   

He once had an Encounter with a Lion,  
(Though most believe he never durst come nigh one)  
But as the Author says and I believe,  
Both bravely fought and many wounds did give  
Each other, till the Beast in wof●li dumps  
Worn out, (for Jones had fought him to his stumps)  
In honour of his Fall and Jones' Glory,  
Died with mere Age, and there's an end oth'story.   

Many a tough adventure he hath had,  
And like a true Knight Errand, ne'er a bad:  
He foiled great Asdriasdust in the twinck▪  
Ling of an eye, as easy as to drink:  
And yet as tough, and dry a sir, as ere was y kt  
Unto a sword (Jones often wished him choked)  
But yet of all the Giants that came nigh him  
There's Nerapenny stuck the longer by him;  
For though his slender wounds made many doub: him,  
That threadbare Tearcoates he had still about him;  
And if they say he had not, he's bell▪ ed  
For he had ne'er a penny when he died.   

Jones had a valiant stomach, and would eat  
As well as fight, provided he had meat,  
Else patience upon force took place, for Jones  
Kept many fasting days, and made no bones.  
But I'd not have you think it was for want;  
For when he had no Money, nor Provant,  
The Fowl flew to his Table, and the Fish  
Left the cold stream, and swum into his dish.  
'Tis an old Proverb, (Like to like they say)  
Jones was a Codshead too as well as they.   

But Jones, like a Disease, both Sexes smites;  
For he wounds Ladies too as well as Knights:  
He was so trim a youth the Queen of No-land,  
Thought him some Princely Shaver come from Poland;  
And so he proved indeed, for by Guds duds  
He most unkindly left her in the suds;  
Jones like a Wiseacres begged to be spared,  
For he had No-Land, nor for No-land cared:  
If any ask you wherein lay his Grace?  
Venus' loved Mars his Truncheon not his face.   

To wind up all, Fame's Trump his Deeds doth tell,  
Although a sowgelder's would do't as well.   
W. T.   

THE LEGEND OF Captain JONES.  

ISing thy Arms (Bellona,) and the Man's  
Whose mighty deeds outdid great Tamberlans:  
Thy Trump (dire goddess) send, that I may thunder 
The Invocation.   
Some wondrous strain, to speak this man of wonder.   

When Fates decreed that Captain Jones should be  
The life and death of men, they could not see  
A place more suiting to bring forth this mirror  
Of martial spirits, this thunder crack of terror,  
Then some vast mountain's womb, whose rigid rocks 
His birth place.   
Might form him, and foreshow the hardy knocks  
Which he should give and take: Nor were they nice  
To think it base, that mountains bring forth mice,  
Since from a British mount and Mars his stones,  
They sent this Man of men, stern Captain Jones.  
Wild Mare's milk nursed him on the mountain's gorse,  
Which gave him strength and stomach like a horse;  
Goats flesh matured him, killed on craggy tops,  
Which taught him to mount Rampires like those rocks.  
E'er eighteen winters fully waxen were,  
This imp of Mars began to do and dare.  
With Reymond a stout brother of the sword  
He first attempted Sea, and went abroad,  
Two hundred strong, for the East Indies bound,  
Fame was the only prize he sought or found.  
Twice twenty days auspicious waves and winds  
Lulled them: then Aeolus and Neptune joins  
To work Great jones his fall. Envy and ire  
To see him more than Man, made them conspire:  
Rough Boreas whistled to the dancing ship,  
The boisterous billows strove to over-skip  
The bounding vessel. In this great disaster  
Reymond, the soldiers, Mariners and Master 
His stout behaviour in a storm at sea.   
Lost heart & heed to rule; then up starts jones,  
Calls for six Gispins', drinks them off at once.  
Thus armed at all points, yet as light as feather,  
He ascends, and drew, and pissed against the weather;  
And are we borne (my hearts, quoth he) to die?  
Shall we descend? Thy immortality  
Neptune thou must resign, if I come thither:  
One Sea may not contaie us both together.  
Nor waves nor winds could fright him with the motion  
Who thought he could contain and piss an Ocean.  
His fatal Smiter thrice aloft he shakes,  
And frowns; the Sea and ship and canvasse quakes:  
Then from the hatches he descends, and stepped  
Into his cabin, drank again, and stepped.  
When these rough gods beheld him thus secure,  
And armed against them like a man pot-sure,  
They stint vain storms; and so Monstrifera 
The name of his ship.   
(So height the Ship) touched about Florida,  
Upon a desert Island called Crotona,  
Where savage beasts and serpents live alone:  
Here jones would needs no land, though Reymond swore  
Danger was in't: he laughed and leapt a shore 
His landing.   
Danger (quoth he) to them whom danger fright,  
My heart was framed to dare, my hands to fight.  
Some six and thirty more put forth to ground,  
These for fresh food, he for adventure bound;  
They limit their return when three hours ends,  
Which Reymond with the ship at Sea attends.  
These Sea sick soldiers, rang hills, woods, and valleys.  
Seeking provant to fill their empty bellies;  
jones goes alone, where Fate prepared to meet him  
With such a prey as did unfriendly greet him;  

* His encounter with a Bear.  A Bear as black as darkness, and as fell  
As Tiger, vast as the black dog of hell,  
Runs at him open jawed, so fierce, so fast,  
That he no leisure had to draw for haste  

* The name of his sword.  Kilza dog his good sword; with fist he aimed,  
All armed, a blow, which sure the bear had brained,  
But that between her yawning teeth it dings,  
The gauntlet there stuck fast, his hands he wrings  
Unarmed, unharmed from thence; her foremost paws  
The Bear on Jones his shoulder claps, and gnaws  
The gauntlet wedged between her teeth: Jones clasped her  
With both his arms, and strove by force to cast her.  
And here they try a pluck, and grasp, and tug,  
And foam; but Jones who knew the Cornish hug,  
Heaves her a foot from footing, swings her round,  
And with a short turn hurls her on the ground;  
Then came his good sword forth to act his part,  
Which pierced skin, ribs, and riffe, and rove her heart.  
The head (his trophy) from the trunk he cuts,  
And with it back unto the shore he struts,  
Where Reymond was appointed to attend  
His and the rests return: but he (false friend)  
When they were once on shore and out of sight,  
Hoist sails to sea, and took himself to flight.  
Here jones found fraud in man, and deeply swears  
Revenge on Reymonds' head, the rest he cheers;  
All safe returned, but all in desperation 
He joins himself to the 36. soldiers.   
To see themselves left there to desolation:  
Nor grain nor ground, but wild; nor man, nor beast,  
But savage; yet (O strange) here Jones doth feast  
His six and thirty daily, 'twas with fishes  
Tossed from his halberd's point into their dishes; 
His taking of fish with his halberd's point.   
Wherewith he took them standing on the shore  
Out of the Ocean: whether 'twas the store  
Frequenting this unpeopled coast, or whether  
To see this wondrous man they should together  
And so astonished, yield themselves a prey  
To him from whom they durst not swim away.  
Be't so, or so, I'll not decide, but I  
Know Jones tells this for truth, who knows no lie.  
Thus from his weapon's point, nine months they fed  
Till fate Sir Richard Greenfield thither led,  
Who to America transports with Jones  
His six and thirty fish-fed Mermydons,  
To Insip were they brought and left; oh then  
'Twas time, had they had meat, to play the men.  
Their first encounter there with famine was,  
A dry and desert soil, nor grain nor grass,  
Nor drink, but water had they here, nor bread 
Captain Jones encounters with the great Giant Asdriasdust.   
For thrice twelve months, but caves for house and bed.  
Such living as that Country could afford  
Bold Jones was forced to win by dint of sword  
Eleven fierce Kings possess the fertile tract  
Of this great Coast, who all their powers compact  
To vanquish Jones: A brave attempt 'tis true,  
Yet more than twice eleven fierce Kings could do.  
Two thousand choice and doughty men they chose,  
To bid him battle, armed with darts and bows,  
And arrows fathom long, well barbed with bone  
Of some strange fish, which pierced through steel and stone  
And thus they came prepared. When they drew near him,  
He brought his soldiers forth, and thus did cheer them;  
My five and twenty friends (for only those 
His cration to his 25. soldiers before their fight with the 2000 sent against him by the 11 American Kings.   
Had fate & famine left) these darts and bows  
Are fit to deal with fearful Crows and Daws,  
But us whose hearts of oak and empty maws,  
Hunger's sharp dart hath pierced (& yet we stand  
To fright & foil our foes with sword in hand)  
These weapons cannot conquer, nor the number  
were they two thousand such as john a Cumber.  
Doth hunger bite you? bite your foes as fast,  
Eat these men-eaters (soldiers) kill and taste.  
Would you gain glory? Kill by six and seven,  
If Crowns of Kings, than here behold eleven.  
And this he spoke and drew. With stomach fierce  
They give the first assault, Now for a verse  
To speak great Jones his deeds, who headlong goes  
Amongst the thickest ranks, cuts, kills, & throws, 
His courage in fight.   
Some by the legs, some by the waist he makes  
Shorter; another by the lock he takes,  
Reaps off his head, wherewith he brains another,  
Then at one stroke kills father, son, and brother;  
Few scaped with life, but strangely; happy those  
Which scaped with loss of half a face or nose.  
Nor may I pass his men, who cut and slash  
Like those that fought for life, not Crowns or Cash.  
Want made them seem (which sure their foes dismayed)  
The very sons of death, whose parts they played;  
The Insips now no aim can take aright,  
They think each foe they meet, a mighty Spirit;  
And so they fly. Six Kings he took, and killed,  
Five, with eight hundred soldiers left the field; 
5. Kings & 120● soldiers slain.   
Twelve hundred fell: for those that went off safe  
Their heels & not their hearts the praise he gave.  
Unto their fullest towns, when he had killed them,  
He brought his ragged regiment and filled them.  
Here on the river of Mengog they find  
A Wear with fish of wondrous growth and kind,  
Where with a thousand herrings they were said, 
Strange herrings.   
All two foot long besides the tail and head.   

Here some may ask what came of all the wealth,  
(For Jones brought nothing home besides himself)  
This conquest gained; sure many precious things  
Must needs attend the death of six such Kings. 
What became of the rich prizes.   
I answer briefly; His heroic desire  
Ascends above earth excrements as fire:  
Nor can descend to Crowns. The soldiers found  
Much wealth, which in their home-return was drowned   

Still fortune favours Jones. Amidst this river  
He spies a sail directly bearing thither;  
He calls, and finds them English, homeward bound,  
Who for fresh water thrust into the sound.  
With these his men and he for England comes,  
Had England known it, all her guns & drums 
He & his men come for England.   
Had been too little to express her joy,  
As when victorious Hector entered Troy;  
Yet ere he can attain his native coast,  
Aeneas like he must be tired and tossed  
With storms, till meat and water waxed so scant,  
That Jones drank nought but piss one week for want.  
At last when they had cast out all their goods,  
(To save themselves) into the furious floods,  
The ship all bruised with sands, and storms, and stones  
At Ipswich doth disburden the sea of Jones.  
England salutes him with the general joys  
Of Court and Country, Knights, Squires, fools, & boys  
In every town rejoice at his arrival,  
The townsmen where he comes their wives do swive all  
And bid them think on Jones amidst this glee,  
In hope to get such roaring boys as he:  
Others this joy, into a fury rapt  
To sing his praise, though elegant and apt;  
Yet mixed with fixions, which he scorns. 'Tis known  
Jones fancies no additions but his own;  
Nor need we stir our brains for glorious stuff  
To paint his praise, himself hath done enough,  
And hath prescribed that I should write no more  
Than his good memory hath kept in store  
Of what he did. Perhaps he hath or can  
Do more, but hides it like a modest man.  
His British expedition makes me high  
From his vagary to his Chivalry.  
This Dukedom's confines pointing on the South,  
Great Kemper Castle guards on Morligs mouth; 
His raising of the ●●●ege of Kemper Castle.   
Which key of Britain (like great Britain's Dover)  
Was well nigh lost by siege till Jones went over,  
To die or raise it; 'Twas begirt by land  
With fifteen thousand. Four tall ships withstand  
All succours from the sea: Against this force  
He goes as boldly as an eyeless horse,  
With one small Bark (the Shit-fire 'twas) a hot one,  
And save a hundred men was with him not one:  
But these were Welsh blades, born for hacks & hewing,  
And cared not what they did so they were doing.  
Thus like some tempests these four ships he frightens,  
His guns roar thunder whilst his powder lightens,  
And from his broad side pours a shower of hail,  
Which rakes them thorough & thorough, ribs, masts, & sail.  
Their shot replies, but they were ranked too high  
To touch the Pinnace, which bears up so nigh  
And plays so hot, that her opponents think  
Some Devil is grand Captain of the Pink.  
One English Pirate with them, whilst he watches  
His time to shoot, spies Jones upon the hatches  
And cries out, Ho, hoist Canvas all at once,  
And fly, or yield; Zounds it is Captain Jones:  
The man swore reason, and 'twas quickly heard,  
For, not a Bullet like that name was feared;  
They fly, he follows, but a partial wind  
And wings of fear saved them, left him behind.  
To Kemper he returns him, and supplies it  
With fifty men, and victuals to suffice it  
Six months: The foes by land lose hope and heart  
To oppose this new supply, and so depart:  
Then on the Gate this title was ingraved,  
Jones rescued Kemper, and the Dukedom saved.  
Thus plumed with Laurel, Jones for England came,  
Where George of Cumberland, rapt with his fame,  
Woos him to be Vicegenerall of his fleet; 
He is made Vice Gen. under G. of Cumberland & fought against the Spanish Fleet.   
Which jones vouchsafed, because he was to meet  
Men like himself, the doughty Dons of Spain,  
Whose honour (or lose all) he vowed to gain.  
And better fate in this design he wished not,  
Then to cope single with their great Don Quixot.  
Stay Muse and blush, and sigh & sing no more,  
Here jones his Mistress Fortune played the whore.  
Yet, whilst thou loathed her lightness to rehearse,  
Let indignation make thee chide in verse;  
Ah deity! and blindly to go on so  
From thy dear minion jones, to john D' Alonso,  
Whose out and inside is no better mettle  
Than an old Drum, or a base Tinker's Kettle.  
And tak'st thou him for jones? that glorious boy,  
Whom Venus' self would kiss (were Mars away.)  
Well fickle goddess, if thou be divine,  
I'll swear, heaven hath like earth, light feminine.  
'twas thus, This fleet cut through the Western maine,  
And so lay hover on the coast of Spain:  
jones led the front (as 'twas his custom still)  
The first in fight, last to be killed or kill:  
His ship went swiftest too, as did his mind  
On honour's wings: But (oh) an envious wind  
Filled all his sail, and wrapped him in a mist  
From being seen, or seeing, ere he wist.  
And thus he lost his train, and cast about,  
And beat these Seas five days to find them out,  
Till in his quest it was his fate to meet  
Don john D. Alonso with the Spanish fleet.  
This General bid amain, and jones defied  
From Canon's mouth. The Don again replied  
With four for one. Ah jones, had I my wish,  
Some Godhead should have turned thee to a fish,  
To escape this dire assault; thou shouldst not then  
Be taken like a tame beast in thy den.  
Nine thousand soldiers was the force that fought  
This day with jones, whom six huge galleys brought,  
The stoutest boats to make a bold Bravado  
That were in Spain's invincible Armado:  
jones first commands his men to take their victual,  
He soldierlike drank much, and prayed a little;  
Then tells them briefly, here's no place to fly,  
Come friends, let's bravely live or bravely die.  
By this the galleys had enclosed him round,  
And sought to board him; but they quickly found  
The ship too hot to grapple with sosoon,  
And so bore off again, and paid her room.  
Then each by turn present her the broad side,  
Which she repaid with interest, and so plied,  
That where her bullets pierce, whole streams of blood  
Spout through the galleys ribs, and die the flood;  
The foes disdain thus long to stand in fight  
'Gainst one, and so press on with all their might,  
And now the storm grew hot, and deep in blood,  
" Mad rage had got the place where reason stood:  
Guns, drums, and trumpets stop the soldier's cares,  
From hearing cries and groans; and fury rears  
This fatal combat to so strange a height,  
Th●● higher powers express th'effects of fright.  
Great Neptune quaked and roared, clouds ran and pi●  
The winds fell down, and Titan lurked in mistress  
Then belch huge bullets forth, smoke, fire, & thunder  
Their fury strikes the gods with fear and wonder.  
One galley which two hundred slaves did row,  
Affront the ship in hope to bulge her prow.  
Jones gave her leave; but when she once came nigh,  
One burst his murdering shot; here doomed to die  
Down dropped the brave Viceroy of Saint jago,  
Don Diego de Cordona and Gonzago.  
Stones, chains, and bullets tore their passage out  
Through men and galley, which soon tacked about  
In hope to get aloof; but Jones sent after  
Two lucky shots, which light 'twixt wind and water.  
" In crept the quaking billow, where he spied  
" Those holes, in hope its fearful head to hide;  
" The galley like afeard, worse hurt, doth creep  
" Into the trembling bowels of the deep;  
" And so she sank. Thus Diego whilst he tried  
His force with Jones, with fifteen hundred died.  
Now Jones all breathless sat to take his breath  
Upon a But of sack, and drank the death  
Of Don john de Alonso, which his men  
Pledge in a rouse, and so they fight again.  
Ninescore there were, but threescore now remain  
To do or suffer, for the rest were slain.  
The Spanish force distract 'twixt hope and fear,  
Yet by their fellows fall forewarned, forbear  
This hot assault, keep distance, and at Jones  
Let fly their shot at random all at once,  
Some half a Cable short and some flew o'er  
The top sail, some the stern and rudder tore:  
One, all the rest in fatal fury passed,  
And all to shivers rove the master mast,  
Down fell the tackle, and the vessel lay  
An English prison and a Spanish prey.  
Starboard and Larboard side, from poop to prow  
They all let drive and raked her through and through.  
All now but jones and one man more were killed,  
Who cried, Now fight and die or live and yield.  
jones killed the first, the latter he besought him  
Upon his knees, whilst by the knees he caught him  
Begging for life, a bullet took away  
His head, which when 'twas off still seemed to pray;  
Out flew the head and bullet both at once  
Between the manly thighs of Captain jones;  
Who looked behind him, art thou gone (quoth he)  
Still may they die so, that cry yield to me.  
Now nought to him but blood and death appeared,  
Death was his wish, captivity he feared;  
Which to prevent 
* This sword he won from the great and fearful G 〈…〉 Nereapeny.  Kil-za-dog forth he drew,  
And thus he spoke, Brave Cato, Cato slew.  
And when victorious Brutus could not stand,  
He fell, but by his own victorious hand.  
Brutus, I am a Brute, and have thy spirit,  
Thy fortune and selfe-death I will inherit.  
Thus said, his sword unto his side he plies,  
Which his good Genius stays & thus replies; 
His g 〈…〉 de 〈…〉 him from self-murder.    

Hold jones, reserved for th● Country's good,  
Born to shed hostil, not thy homebred blood,  
And know that self death is the Coward's curse,  
For, he that dies so, dies for fear of worse;  
The time will come when Irish bogs shall quake  
Under thy feet, whilst great Oneale doth shake.  
I may not on thy future deeds dilate,  
Thy sword must right what is involved in fate;  
This know, in thy old age thou shalt impart  
Unto thy Country's youth thy martial art,  
Teach them to manage arms, and how they must  
Make bright their swords, which peace hath wrapped it rust   

Now jones vouchsafed to live, not for himself  
But for his Country's good and Common wealth,  
His scarlet cap he dons, with crimson plume,  
And he ascends the hatches all in sum.  
The Musketeers ambitiously desire  
To his this mark, and all at once give fire:  
Some Bullets raze his plume, his hair, his nose,  
His velvet Jerkin, and his satin hose,  
(The scars may yet be seen) yet draws he breathe  
Fearless and harmless in the jaws of death.   

The Spaniard now conjectured his intent,  
By seeking death t'avoid imprisonment,  
And so forbore to shoot, drew near and sought  
To take the prey, which they so dear had bought.   

Then jones all raging throws into the main  
That sword which men and wolves & bears had slain,  
That sword which erst had drunk the blood of King;  
Into the bowels of the deep he dings.  
The Ocean thirld for fear, and gave it place,  
And greedy Neptune snatched it for his mace.  
Then from the ship he leaps amongst his foes,  
And so undaunted to Don john he goes,  
Who bid him Live, Don-like, but gave him breath,  
Only to breath in greater pains than death.  
This shock had sent to Styx six thousand men,  
Whose souls Don john to satisfy again 
How be was used being taken captive.   
Inflicts more servile punishments on Jones,  
Then countervails six thousand deaths at once.  
He beds on boards, is fed with bits and knocks  
Apelike, barefoot with neither shoes nor socks.  
Hair shirt, blue bonnet, made a servile knave,  
A lousy, dusty, nasty galley slave.  
At last he brings Jones to the Spanish King,  
And says: Great Monarch, see this precious thing;  
Six thousand of your bravest men he cost, 
He is presented to the Spanish King:   
Who to gain him alive, their lives have lost,  
Nor think the bargain dear, for here's a man  
Can do & say more than your Viceroys can.  
This praise was given him by the crafty Don,  
For fear his loss seemed more than what he won;  
And so it did indeed, for Philip thought  
Jones inside by his outside dear bought.  
To try he asks him, whither bound, and whence  
He was, and Jones replies with little sense,  
Whether through fear or feigning, he affords  
To all the King demands, not three wise words.  
To try him further, in a Jail they cast him, 
He is cast in prison.   
Which served for nothing but to stink & fast in.  
And here it was his destiny to light  
Upon a learned Priest, a Jesuit:  
With him falls jones to work. The sacred word  
His weapon was, for he had drowned his sword. 
He disputed there with a Jesuit about Purgatory   
Their question was of purgatory, where,  
And whether 'tis at all, if so, 'tis here  
(Quoth jones.) For he half tired with pains would needs  
Go strait to heaven: And thus the question breed;  
jones was no Schoolman, yet he bore a brain  
Which ne'er forgot what ere it could contain.  
Yet this old Priest so wrists the letters sense,  
Equivocates, denies plain consequence,  
Starts to and fro, and raiseth such confusions,  
That jones chief ward was to deny conclusions:  
But, do this subtle Schoolman what he can,  
Such was the vigour of this martial man,  
Though he was no good disputant or Text-man  
Nor knew to spell Amen, to serve a Sexton;  
Yet truth, with confidence and his strong fist  
Doth first convince, and then convert the Priest.  
Some talk of Garnets' straw and Lipsius' lasses.  
Whose miracles made many Artists asses;  
But here's a miracle transcends them all,  
An Artist made wise by a Natural.   

Now England's Court rings all of jones his fetters, 
Orders ●ken in Eng land for 〈◊〉 ransom.   
And men of rank were soon sent o'er with letters,  
To ransom him for gold, or man for man,  
On any terms. The King with many a Don  
Consults upon this point: One thought it fit  
To deal upon exchange; some better wit  
Thought it more fit to keep this second Drak, 
The point of his ransom debated in ●p.   
For so he termed him wisely, and thus spoke;  
Armies are England's arm, Captains the hand  
Of this strong arm that rules by sea & land:  
And of this arm and hand I think in sum,  
This captive Captain is the very thumb.  
This speech was short and sound, but could not go so  
Without th'opposing of old Don Mendozo;  
Who loved and favoured Jones, but knew not why,  
(Nature it seems had wrought some sympathy)   

Pardon (quoth he) (dread Sovereign) are we come  
To talk of arms and hands and Captain Thumb?  
From East to West our Arms and armies reign,  
And fear we now for one to reobtain  
So many Viceroys in the Isle captived,  
For us, of light and almost life deprived;  
Were Drake's and Candish spirit in this dragon,  
Let not their future times have this to brag on,  
That England's Queen did prise one Captain more  
Than Spain's great Monarch did his twenty four.   

His speech prevailed, and so they all atone,  
And twenty four were asked and given for one;  
All which had led great armies to the field,  
And never knew but once, what 'twas to yield.  
And thus was jones dismissed; yet ere he go  
The King, to grace him, made him kiss his toe.  
Long mayst thou live old man, and may thy tongue  
And memory, as thou growest old, wax young:  
Then wilt thou live in spite of time, and be  
Times subject, and time thine t'imblazon thee.   

Pardon my forward Muse, striving to soar  
A pitch with thee at midday tired, gives o'er;  
For, who can speak thee all (thou mighty man?)  
Not Greece's Homer, nor Rome's Mantuan.  
Thy Irish wars, thy taking great Tyrone, 
A touch of some other deeds of chivalry by him performed.   
Whole herds of Wolves killed there by thee alone,  
Thy several single duels with fiece men  
And Bears, all slain; and that dry journey when  
Thou drank'st but what thou pissed for thrice seven days,  
Which made thee dry ere since; then th' amorous ways  
The Queen of No-land used to make thee King  
Of her and hers (Oh) many a precious thing.  
Thy London widow next in love half drowned,  
Which thou refus'dst with forty thousand pound:  
Thy daunting Essex in his rash bravado,  
Raleighs hard scaping of thy bastinado:  
Lastly, thy grace with thy great Queen Eliza,  
Who, hadst thou had the learning to suffice a  
Man, but to write and read, had made thee able  
To sit in Council at her highness' Stable.  
These trophies of thy Fame, and myriads more  
Kept by thy fertile brain for time in store,  
I leave unsung, and wish they may be writ  
In golden lines by some more happy wit,  
Whose Genius, till some fury doth inspire,  
Let me sit down in silence, and admire.   
THE END.   

A copious commendation of a Red Nose.  

LEt him that undertook to praise  
The French Pox, and so many ways  
Did prove that it is now a days  
Commodious:   

I say, let him a while give place,  
For I will prove, a fiery face  
Is to the owner no disgrace,  
Nor odious.   

Who hath a fiery face, that man  
Is said to have a rich face, an  
Rubies about his nose, none can  
Deny it.   

And all men know as well as I,  
That what is rich, most eagerly  
We covet, and no cost deny  
To buy it.   

Some have their clothes sold from their back,  
And some their lands, and some will lack  
Meat, rather than good sherry Sack  
And Claret:   

And they swear (& swear truth) that those  
Which drink small beer, & wear good clothes  
Do offer wrong unto their nose,  
And mar it.   

If in Rome's Senate long-nosed men  
Were chose for wisest, tell me then  
Why these should not be praised, when  
All men know   

A fiery face ne'er is without  
A rich nose: and how far a snout  
That's rich exceeds a long to doubt  
Or call men to   

Dispute or to capitulate,  
This matter's not so intricate  
But any may expostulate  
And judge it:   

And if judge truly he'll confess,  
Fire-rich, exceeds long wise; I guess.  
No man that hath true worthiness  
Will grudge it.   

Besides, the world knows this that we  
Affirm those gracious that we see  
But blush, and call it modesty.  
In people.   

A rich face always blushes, so  
It doth all faces else out go  
As far as S. Faiths is below  
Paul's steeple.   

He that reads this, and does not say,  
A fiery face hath won the day,  
In judgement shows himself a boy,  
And heedless.   

Nor will I spend more words to show  
What commendation men do owe  
To Captain jones his face you know  
'tis needless.   
FINIS.   

THE LEGEND OF Captain JONES: CONTINUED From his first part to his end: WHEREIN IS DELIVERED His incredible adventures and achievements by sea and land.  
Particularly, His miraculous deliverance from a wrack at Sea by the support of a Dolphin.  
His several desperate duels.  
His combat with Bahader Cham a giant of the race of Og.  
His loves.  
His deep employments and happy success in business of State.  
All which, and more, is but the tithe of his own relation, which he continued until he grew speechless, and died.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Marriot, and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstan's Churchyard Fleetstreet 1656.   

To the READER.  

REader, read on: here you may haply meet  
News, pleasing more, than what's cried in your street.  
Jones is revived; ne'er start: the danger's past;  
What he hath done long since, now makes him last.  
His last brave actions never sung before  
We offer to your view, nor write we more  
Than he made good on oath: then (pray) believe  
What here you'll find: thus by your faith he'll live.  
Next, spare your censure on his Poet's style;  
Had it gone high, his ghost had kept a quoil  
To be surmounted: downright were his blows;  
Downright his speech; downright to's grave he goes.  
Only his fame by your opinion may  
Make him still live, though now he's dust or clay.    

THE LEGEND OF Captain JONES. Continued from his first Part to his end.  

Will nothing please the taste of these rough times  
But Rue and Wormwood stuffed in Prose or Rhymes?  
No Verse to make our Poets Laureate  
But smart iambics lashing King or State?  
Must all turn Mercuries, these times to fit  
By poisoning Fame with their quicksilver wit?  
That name that's got by some notorious ill,  
And merits Gives, is hateful to our quill.  
But if the last brave acts of Captain Jones  
Which can move mirth and fear, and break no bones,  
May be admitted in this ruffling age,  
Behold him here remounted on our stage.  
Yet know we still are tied to our low strain,  
We must not once transcend his downright vein.  
And if you meet aught savouring of a lie,  
(Reader believe't) 'tis Jones that speaks, not I  
We left him prized on change, too dear 'twas thought,  
Twenty four Donns, & all not worth a groat, 
24. Spanish commanders given in ex change for him.   
Compared to him, though each had had command  
Over great Armies, pressed for sea and land.  
Here see him shipped for his dear native coast;  
Where ere he comes you'll find he'll rule the roast  
With new found foes, who attempt his force to shake;  
But sleeping Lions 'tis not wise to wake.  
Now once more Neptune doth his waves enlarge,  
Swollen big with pride, that Fate had given him charge  
And weighty convoy of this mighty man  
To whence he came; but ere the ship had run  
Ten glasses out, comes Boreas with a cloud  
As black as ink; the steersman cries aloud  
Down with the topsail, keep the spritsail tied,  
Hail the main bowling. Whilst this mask of light  
Ushered with lightning ploughs the angry deep  
High as herself in ridges, and as steep  
As Cair's tall Pyramids: the labouring ship  
Like a chafed Bear with Mastiffs, strives to keep  
Her beak aloft; some billows she breaks throw,  
Others mount over her at poop and prow.  
Jones heard this stir unmoved: from Neptune still  
He hoped no good, nor ever feared his ill.  
Thus whilst the careful seamen work and pray,  
He careless, to his cabin calls his boy,  
And makes him read to him the ancient stories  
Of our old English Worthies, and their glories;  
How our S. George did the fell Dragon gore:  
The like achievement of Sir Eglemore:  
Topas hard quest after th'elf-queen to Barwick: 
Sir Topas rhyme in Chaucer.   
S. Bevis cow, & Guy's fierce boar of Warwick,  
These stories read, exalt his haughty mind  
Above the servile fear of sea or wind,  
The ships hard state grew now from ill to worse:  
Between two hideous seas across her course,  
Her whole bulk groans: her beak and main mast break.  
Shaken with this shock, she springs a dangerous leak:  
Which her sly foe soon finds, and to begin  
Like a dire dropsy, drenches all within.  
Thus whilst a treacherous inmate fills her womb,  
She's forced to be her own destruction's tomb.  
And overburthen'd with what bore her before,  
She's downright foundered, and can work no more.  
Here might be seen the sad effects of fear  
Which several ways in several men appear:  
Some cried, some prayed, whilst others swear or rave,  
To leave the land to make the sea their grave.  
Jones swollen with the brave actions of his Knights,  
Big as the sea, ascends and Neptune citys  
To single combat: when a boisterous wave  
Which Neptune sent to make him Neptune's slave,  
Whirls him a cables length to sea, the ship  
Sinks with the rest, who give this world the slip.  
Well now Sir Jones 'tis time to show your skill;  
You must swim stoutly for't, or drink your fill.  
No danger frights thee, thou brave man of merit,  
Thy body is buoy up by thy blown spirit.  
As a grim 
* Always portending storms when they are seen to play.  sea-calf still presaging storms  
Wallows and wantoness in cold Thetis arms:  
Just such is Jones: as if he had been bred  
With her finned fry within her watery bed.  
No ship for help, no land for hope appears;  
Horror of billows roaring in his ears.  
Nothing supports but confidence alone, as  
●f some pressed Whale must take up Jones like Ionas.  
At last (alas!) he finds he is no fish,  
His spirit'gins to leave his treacherous flesh.  
Continual labouring makes his limbs wax stark  
And stiff with cold, his optic sense grows dark,  
Neptune insults, and brandishing his mace  
Makes his rude billows dash him o'er the face.  
Now see the fate of noble resolution,  
When jones thought nothing but of dissolution,  
Man's constant friend a gentle Dolphin glides 
The Dolphin is always observed to be a lover of man.   
Between his thighs, on whom he mounts and rides  
In post with mighty speed, through wind and weather;  
So his kind fish holds out he cares not whither;  
Like a bold Centaur bravely he curvets  
From ridge to ridge; 'twas strange, how fast he sits  
In this rough road; but jones learned from his cradle  
To ride without a stirrup or a saddle  
When on the mountains tops wild mares he spied,  
He sucked them dry, and then strait up and ride.  
At last at this high speed he gets the sight  
Of land, so near, he's ready to alight,  
When his kind fish much grieved to leave the burden  
She loved so well, to sea again doth turn  
With mighty speed, still jones doth her bestride  
Believing now he should tothth' India's ride.  
fain would he turn her, but he knew not how,  
He never knew a bridles want till now:  
At last the faithful fish preferring higher  
Her rider's safety then her own desire,  
She turns her course about with happy haste,  
And so our errand Knight on land she cast.  
Some Spanish writers flatly do deny  
He suffered wrack, and plainly term't a lie:  
They say the ship that led this dangerous dance  
Was built by Lewis King Henty's son of France,  
And took that name from him, who bears that name 
The eldest son of the King of France always styled the Dolphin.   
As eldest son, who still is styled the same:  
They write jones got this ground t'augment his glory  
And cheat the world with this stupendious story;  
But let the reader judge if this be true,  
And know pale envy still doth worth pursue.  
Well now to jones again, we may conceive  
He was not ill paid to take his leave  
Of this rough element: nor did account it  
Much worse to go on foot, then ride so mounted.  
'Tis true, he road this lofty fish in state,  
But 'twas too near the boisterous fit of fate,  
He feared not Fortune nor her wheel, though fickle,  
Yet loath he was to be laid up in pickle;  
Or that his manly limbs should be a feast  
For sharks, or crabs, or congers to digest.  
His next work is to find some habitation,  
Though he came safely there, 'twas in mean fashion,  
The selfsame clothes which when Alonso braved him,  
He made him wear, and to the galley slaved him.  
And though this last foul storm had little harmed him,  
It seemed to some strange thing to have transformed him  
Rigid and rough, long wet and feltered locks, 
Nebuch●nizzar.   
Like Babel's King, when turned into an Ox:  
For a freshwater soldier none could doubt him,  
The seas salt tears ran trickling round about him.  
In this cold plight he leaves the beachy strand,  
And coasts the main with many a weary stand.  
At last he spies a house, not great, but good:  
For here he finds a brother of his brood,  
Who had adventured in those ways before,  
And raised some fortune by't, and gave it o'er.  
He quickly finds that jones had scaped some wrack;  
Experience, charity, and pity spoke  
On this behalf; the good man bids him in,  
And with Y'are kindly welcome doth begin.  
He spak't in Dutch, which gladded jones, for he  
Could speak't aswel as 
† The saw in W 〈…〉  Grace dw worth awhee.  
Which language a Dutch Pilot well had taught him  
When Greenfield to America had brought him.  
By this, the Stove's made ready, in goes jones:  
Dries his wet garments, comforts nerves and bones.  
The table's set with homely wholesome cheer,  
And to make all complete, strong Lubeck beer.  
A Dutch fro was his mate, more fat than fair,  
But wondrous free, and there to debonair.  
Which maids Jones ask what Country 'twas that gave  
This noble welcome to her humble slave?  
He's answered, 'tis the Netherlands; the States  
Brave seat of war, where many broken pates  
Are got and given, and for his wants supply  
The good strong town of Flushing stood fast by,  
Where Sir John Norrice did command in chief  
For England's glory and the State's relief.  
This tickled Jones with joy; for Horace Vere,  
Norrice, and he had been (I know not where)  
Comrades in arms, ere Jones did entertain  
That cross design with Cumberland for Spain.  
But now a bed does well, to take some rest  
Where this good host directs his weary guest!  
And having slept his fill, he timely rose,  
Takes a most thankful leave, and on he goes.  
His purpose is to take his passage over  
At the next Port he finds: from thence to Dover.  
But first at Flushing he resolves to touch,  
Where his old friend, the Bulwark of the Dutch,  
Brave Norrice holds his troop; Here jones arrives,  
Just as he came from Jail, except his Gives,  
Clad in his slavish robe of Friars grey,  
His cap true blue; no company, but they  
That will not leave him whilst he hath a rag. 
Lousy.   
Such as possess the Beggar with his bag.  
Winds, storms, nor seas, nor aught that could undo him,  
Could make them flinch, like friends they stick close to him.  
And thus accompanied he doth approach  
Tothth' General's house, neither with steed nor coach;  
But in his manly foot-march: 'twas the time  
When Norrice with his Chiefs were set to dine.  
Jones presseth to the Parlour from the Hall,  
And there accosts the noble General.  
Who eyed him quickly, and cries out (o fate!  
Live I to see the strength of England's State?  
Breathest thou brave man at arms? Jones art thou he?  
Or is it Mars himself disguised like thee?  
Quoth Jones, The scourge of Spaniards and of Spain,  
Whom they have felt and foiled, but to their pain,  
Stands here; and yet would breathe some few year longer  
To prove King Philip or myself the stronger.  
The rest was dear embraces, and his place  
By Norrice side; and then a hasty grace.  
Now might I dwell upon the luscious cheer,  
Which here grew cold, whilst each man's eye and ear  
Fed on the person and discourse of jones,  
And quite forgot their toasts and marrow bones.  
And whilst his strange adventures passed, he tells;  
The Captains, Sergeant Majors, Colonels  
Fast to admire him, and are filled with wonder,  
And feel no hunger though their bellies thunder.  
Here mark his constancy, beyond these men,  
He eats and talks, and eats and talks again.  
Their maws are cloyed to hear those deeds of his,  
His stories are his meal's Parenthesis.  
But when he spoke of Spain, 'tis past belief,  
What fearful wounds he gave the chine of beef,  
A capon garnished which sliced lemons stood  
Before him, which he tore as he were wood;  
And made it leglesse ere he made a pause,  
Merely in malice to the Spanish sauce.  
He wrecks his wrath on every dish that's nigh him,  
And spoiled a custard that stood trembling by him;  
Grown pikes and carp, and many a dainty dish,  
That far excelled his tame Crotonian fish.  
At last his fury began to be assuaged,  
And then the General all his friends engaged,  
To give him Soldiers welcome in a rouse  
Of lusty Rhenish, till both men and house  
Turn round. Once two great deities conjoined  
To work his fall, with hideous seas and wind:  
Now only Bacchus takes the man to task;  
And lays sore to him with his potent cask.  
And whilst with lusty grape o'er born jones reels,  
H'assaults his head, and so trips up his heels.  
But up he rose again with vigour stout,  
And swears though foiled, he'll try an other bout.  
They all were now high flown, when Colonel Skink  
Fills a huge bowl of sherry Sack, to drink  
A health to England's Queen, and Jones is he  
Must take't in pledge; and so he did: but see  
The strange antipathy between this man  
And Spanish grape as well as Spanish Don.  
Against them both his stomach fierce doth rise,  
No sooner drunk but up again it flies.  
This odd distemper made him half ashamed,  
But there's no help, he was with wrath inflamed,  
Nor was he pleased with Skink of this affront,  
(For so he took't) he knew Skink could not want  
The wine of Rhine for healths: why then in Sack,  
Unless it were to lay him on his back?  
Fired with this thought, he catcht at his buffcoat,  
Then grapples close; and had plucked out his throat,  
But that the wary General interposes  
His hands and friends between their bloody noses:  
And with strong reasons, smiles, and smooth aallyes,  
He damps the fury of these fiery boys,  
And left them (as he thought) well reconciled,  
But by th' effect he found he was beguiled.  
The night dispersed them now to several ways,  
As they were quartered. Jones with Norrice stays,  
Who sent him the next morn a brave rich suit,  
Intended for himself, with all things to't.  
Scant was he dressed, when Skink unto him sends  
A Captain, boldly to demand amends  
For last night's work, and Jones to do him right,  
A bullet must exchange in single fight.  
For which himself and Second would not miss,  
Where Jones designed to meet with him and his.  
This Jones accepts, and swears before that night  
He shall hear from him, how and where he'll fight.  
He thus dispatched, Sir Roger Williams enters,  
To whom much kind discourse passed o'er; he venter's  
To tell his difference with Skink i which told,  
Sir Roger like a Britain true and bold,  
Protests himself his Second, hasts to Skink,  
Tells him, he had need fight well, as well as drink:  
That jones and he at the South-postern gate  
Early next morn would meet him and his mate,  
With sword and pistol horsed, and there agree  
To fight it two to two, or jones and he.  
Then comes to jones, supplied him with a horse  
Well rid and fierce; Bucquoy had felt his force  
Before Breda; then gives that sword and belt  
Which Prince Llwellin wore, when slain near Bealt. 
The Prince of Sonth-Wales, Who was slain near Bealt, a town in Brecknockshire.   
The hour come, these champions soon appear,  
They spend no time in words; in full career,  
jones charges bravely close up to his breast,  
And fires, but fortune turned it to the best:  
Makes him through haste forget to prime his pan,  
So missed his shot, and so preserved the man.  
Vexed with this fail, he flings with all his might,  
Worse than the bullet, had his hand gone right,  
His pistol at his face; 'twas aimed so near,  
It razed his cheek, and took quite off his ear.  
Skink's bullet pierced the blow of jones his saddle,  
And slightly circumcised his foreman's noddle,  
The Seconds stood attending the event  
Of this first charge, both resoluetly bend,  
If either in th'encounter had been sped,  
To run the same adventure they both did.  
But when they saw the bravery of their fight,  
Both having lost their blood, the quarrel slight:  
They both detest such men should be destroyed,  
By which their country should be sore annoyed:  
With joint consent their power they unite  
To ride up to them, and break off the fight:  
Thus got between them, all best means they use  
To take it up: which both enraged refuse.  
They urge the equal terms on which they stood,  
In point of honour: both had lost their blood,  
Both fought it well; how light their quarrels ground,  
Not worth one drop of blood, much less a wound.  
Then bid them look on their dear country's woe,  
Whose breasts must suffer for the ill they do.  
Reason takes place of wrath, they both accord,  
And mischiefs engine rests: they sheathe the sword.  
And thus (in few this dangerous duel ends,  
Fierce foes they met, and now return good friends:  
Their Surgeons staunch their blood, for yet they bled,  
And clap a cap on jones his nether head.  
This news comes quickly to the General's ear,  
Who when he heard their lives were out of fear,  
He gently chides them that they would expose  
Their limbs unto the various chance of blows  
In single duel, when the common good  
No longer stands then such good members stood.  
Ten days are spent ere jones could stand upright,  
Through his slight hurt: which come, the noble Knight  
Brave Norrice he takes leave of, with the rest  
Of that brave martial crew, and then addressed  
Himself for England: Joy thou happy Isle,  
Thy Son returns that hath kept all this quoil;  
Ye blustering boys of Britain feast and quaff all:  
The man's at hand whose presence makes you laugh all.  
Welcome to Dover thou great son of Mavors,  
So spoke the Mayor of Dover on his grave horse,  
Mounted to meet him with his reverend train,  
All gown, who cry him welcome home from Spain:  
After some short repast, on post he rides  
To Non-such, where her Majesty resides,  
Where he was soon brought up to kiss her hand,  
By his dear friend George Earl of Cumberland.  
But then when took to private conference,  
What news of moment, what intelligence,  
What Spanish plots, what mysteries of state,  
Unto her Majesty he did relate,  
'Twas wrapped in clouds too high for me to know it;  
Then pardon, Reader, that I do not show it.  
But 'twas observed he gave a written book  
Unto her hand: on which she deigned to look,  
And seemed to slight it in the public face  
Of Court; yet made some use of 't in a place  
That's privy, so dismissed him to his rest,  
Or her Courts welcome; as to him seemed best.  
'Twas now the time when 
* Robert Earl of Essex.  Essex was engaged  
In Ireland against Tyrone, with whom he waged  
A bloody war: which to the Queen and state;  
Seemed long and costly: after much debate  
It is resolved to pick out such a man,  
Whose active force and spirit dares and can  
Put a full period to this war at once,  
Without delay, and this was Captain jones,  
On whom they pitch, who fed on hopes in vain  
To get some small command to conquer Spain.  
'Tis first resolved he must reduce Tyrone,  
Till that be done he must let Spain alone.  
Thus his Commission's sealed to raise his force,  
A complete regiment of British horse:  
He's thence to waft them o'er the Irish brine;  
And than his force with noble Essex join.  
jones lost no time, goes in five days to Wales:  
Shows his commission, tells them glorious tales;  
He need not beat a drum, nor sound his trumpet,  
His name's enough to make these Britons jump at  
This brave employment under such a Chief,  
Whose fame's reserve enough for their relief.  
Perplexed he was in choosing his commanders,  
For he still fancied best his old Highlanders;  
But many worthies of the lower parts,  
Offer to him their fortunes and their hearts.  
But all respects put by, he inlifleth ten  
Of his old gang, all hard bred mountain-men  
For his Lifeguard, Thomas Da Price a Pew,  
Jenkin Da Prichard, Evan David Hugh,  
John ap John Jenkin, Richard John dap Reese,  
And Tom Dee Ba●gh, a fierce Rat at green cheese,  
Llewelling Reese ap David, Watkin Jenkin,  
With Howell Reese ap Robert, and young Philkin;  
These for his guard, his Officers in chief,  
Lieutenant Colonel Craddock, a stout thief,  
With Major Howell ap Howell of Pen Crag,  
Well known for plundering many cow and nag,  
Captain Pen Vaure, a branch of Tom John Catty,  
Whose word in's colours was, YE ROGUES have at ye.  
Griffith ap Reese ap Howel ap Coh ap Gwillin,  
Reese David Shone ap Ruthero ap William,  
With many more whose names'twere long to write,  
The rest their acts will get them names in fight.  
We must conceive they all were men of fame  
For here we see them all men of great name.  
jones with these blades advanceth to the 
* A little village by Milford.  dale  
There lines himself and them with noble Ale  
Of such antiquity as hath not been there  
The like since 
* An old Welsh Prophet, who foretold the landing of Henry the seventh there.  Robert of the Vale was seen there  
Who used to sink those kinterkins of merit,  
To raise the heat of his prophetic spirit.  
His forces slipped, at last a board he goes,  
A lusty Southeast gale so fairly blows  
That forty hours easily brought him in  
To Dubline Harber where he land's his men,  
There getting knowledge where the Army lay,  
To the Lord General he takes his way  
From whom a noble welcome he receives,  
And good fresh quarter to his troops he gives.  
jones first informs himself in what condition  
Tyron's made up for war, what ammunition,  
How fortified in camp, what force, what watch,  
How victualled, all occasion he doth catch  
To take him tripping; when at length he found,  
He would not give nor take an equal ground,  
To hazard battle, he resolves to try him  
In such a way as he should not deny him,  
Unless with loss of honour; he indites  
This fearful challenge which his squire writes:  
False traitor to thy country and thy Queen,  
I he who yet my peer have never seen  
In feats of arms, whose martial hand hath slain  
Kings with their armies, half unpeopled Spain:  
Done more than I can write; I say, I he  
Urge thee to single duel: and to thee  
Give thee free choice of weapon, time, and place,  
On foot or horseback: think it no disgrace,  
That I a private Captain, thou a Chief,  
(My deeds make me admired, thee thine a thief)  
Call thee to question, 'twere ambition  
In thee, to hope to fall by such a one,  
T' augment my praise I wish thee five times stronger.  
Live till I meet thee, and but little longer.  
This done, a Herald is straight charged with it,  
In public to Tyron's own hand to give it,  
Who to him hasts, and in the public view  
Of all his Army says, (Tyrone) to you  
I have command to bring from Captain Jones  
This challenge; read it, and resolve at once.  
He takes it, reads it, and admires the man,  
That sends him this high Brave, who if he can  
But half he writes, he counts himself but lost,  
To meet him; yet in sight of all his host  
This Brave was given him: thus his honour lies  
At stake, and therefore desperately replies.  
Tell your brave man I am not conquered yet,  
Nor can by words but blows, he shall be met,  
Before to morrow noon, on you green plot,  
Surrounded with the bog, neither with shot,  
Nor head steeled dart: this sword I wear shall do't,  
Armed cap-a-pe, no horse, but foot to foot.  
He thus dispatched, Tyrone doth strait seek out,  
Brain Mac-kill-cow a strong sturdy lout,  
Made up with nerves, and brawn and bone so mighty,  
He felt no burden were it ne'er so weighty.  
The strongest man in all his camp by half.  
Milo's great bull to him was but a calf,  
Bred in the Irish wilds amongst bogs and woods,  
And like an outlaw lived on others goods.  
And this is he on whom Tyrone now fixed,  
To personate himself in fight betwixt  
Him and our Jones, true arms of largest size,  
He donnes on him, then to his loins he ties  
Morglay his trusty sword, then swears devoutly,  
If in this combat he behave him stoutly;  
He'll raise his means above two English Barons  
In lands and sheep and cows and lusty garrons:  
Bryan's all confidence and hastens thither  
Where Jones and he must try their force together,  
The place designed was hardly twelve yards square,  
No traversing of ground, no boyes-play there,  
The rest was bog, o'er which some planks were laid  
To pass them o'er; and then to stop all aid,  
Were took from thence: here jones our valiant fighter  
Advanceth first: Bryan with his fell smiter  
Is hard at hand, they spare no time for words,  
Their mettle is the whetstone of their swords.  
They clap together like two sons of thunder,  
Their blades struck lightning, whilst the earth quaked under  
The burden she bore; no stroke that's given, but death  
Seems to attend it, till both out of breath  
Consent to make a stand, but this short rest  
Was like a salad with a muttons breast  
To their sharp stomaches, to't they go again,  
And lay on load like devils, not like men.  
Their well-tried arms do blush with their own blood,  
To find their flesh in whose defence they stood,  
Stand, whilst it fell: for that their keen swords whipped off  
As if they would each other make a chipped loaf.  
At last, as I have seen a man of war  
Exalt a Carack, which exceeds him far,  
In bulk and strength: so jones deals now with Bryan,  
With shuns and shifts, more like a Fox than Lion.  
For (to speak truly) this fell Pagan lout  
Doth so belabour Jones from head to foot,  
That both his ears do oft with sorrow sing,  
And's eyes see stars at noon (a wondrous thing)  
We must conceive those furious blows he dealt,  
Were well repaid with use, which Bryan felt.  
But jones esteeming it an equal thing  
To be self-conquered, and long conquering,  
Resolves to put the business out of doubt  
With one Pass more, which was the fatal bour.  
On this Resolve, with both his hands he pressed  
The pummel of his sword against his breast,  
Then like a thunderbolt tilts swiftly at him:  
With th' fear of this, Bryan had quite forgot him.  
That't was a bog behind, so backward springs,  
And his whole body up to th' armpits flings,  
Amidst the bog. Jones driven with his own force,  
Missing his thrust falls headlong in the gorse,  
But pitched upon his foe, by happy fate,  
With which oreborn, our Jones so mauls his pate,  
That th' helmet flies, and leaves his head to th' danger,  
Of being the anvil of our jones his anger:  
And now the day is his, his strength he strains  
With hand and hilt to beat out Bryan's brains:  
Who cries out quarter, Man of Mars I yield  
Myself and sword, the honour of the field.  
And where the power rests, 'tis much better far  
To give then take a life in chance of war.  
This and the bog doth cool the wrath of Jones,  
He spares his life and draws him forth at once.  
Besides he scorned posterity should tell,  
That by his hand Tyrone so nobly fell.  
And thus Oneale his captive (as he thought)  
In this foul plight unto the camp he brought:  
Presents him to the General, and then spoke,  
Sir if you have ten more Tyrones to take,  
Command, I'll do't; here see him hither led  
By me, who all this charge and stir hath bred.  
The joy was great, but short; 'twas quickly known,  
This was but some impostor for Tyrone:  
And this an Irish Captive at first view  
Made known, who him and his condition knew.  
This bred a qualm in some, whilst others smiled  
To see their British Champions so beguiled,  
And that Tyrone had bobbed him with this jeer,  
To match his Cow-herd with our Mountaneer.  
Jones vexed with this, retires unto his tent,  
An angry, dirty, desperate, male content.  
Three days thus spent, his wrath no longer bears  
This base affront; (like Scaevola,) he-sweares 
Scaevola against Porsenna in Livy.   
he'll kill Tyrone in midst of all his force,  
Though in the act himself be made a coarce:  
In this wild mood by night he doth convey  
Himself, where he supposed the Rebel lay:  
Who wisely raised his camp the day before,  
Marched far through desert woods, and would no more  
Of these affronts; which to put off again  
Might breed contempt of him with his own men.  
Two days Jones spends in quests to find him out;  
At last he was encountered with a rout  
Of ravening wolves, who fiercely all at once  
Assailed the back and face of manly Jones.  
'Twas time to draw, else these wild Irish dogs  
Had been so bold to shake him by the logs:  
But when his sword was out he makes them feel,  
Their teeth are not so sharp as his true steel.  
The first good blow he dealt took off a head,  
The second made one two: the next he sped,  
With a sore thrust at mouth, and out at tail:  
A sourth which his posteriors doth assail,  
With his strong heel he hurls against a tree  
Twelve paces from his kick, and there lies he:  
His sword rips out another's empty paunch;  
The next limps off from him with half a haunch.  
We must conceive 'twas time to lay about him,  
For here were those that fought to eat, not rout him.  
Nor scaped he free, the rich sword skarf he wore  
About his loins, they all to fitters tore.  
His boots plucked off by bits, some flesh to boot,  
No quarter free from scars from head to foot.  
And (to conclude) from these wild Irish witches 
Lup●ntbropos, Witches that take ships of Wolves upon them in Ireland.   
He escapes scant with a hands breadth of his breeches.  
Wearied with blows and kicks, at last they fly him,  
And take a snarling leave as they go by him.  
Thus jones half worried, hasts unto the camp.  
There's none could say the clothes he wore were damp  
With night perdues, unless they meant to flout him;  
For (to speak truth) he had no clothes about him.  
Thus come, he swears by the immortal powers,  
He had maintained a battle full five hours,  
With forty duels, five and twenty killed,  
Routed the rest; who all had took the field  
Against him alone; all raised with him to fight,  
To his destruction, or t'eclipse his might,  
By that old timorous treacherous kern Tyrone,  
Who durst as well meet death as him alone.  
The plight our jones appeared in, made none doubt  
But he had had at least a devilish bout,  
If not with Devils; on him each man seeth  
The fearful character of nails and teeth.  
We may not stand to show what Essex's sense  
Was on these actions, nor the consequence  
They did import: the progress of this story,  
Hastens our muse to jones his farther glory.  
Fame these achievements brings to England's State;  
Which held the Queen and Council in debate  
About this man; and all at last supposed,  
In policy he's not to be exposed  
To the close dangerous plots of such a foe,  
Who neither values faith nor honour, so  
His mischiefs take success: and thus the State  
Lose this dear Limb, and then repent too late.  
Some looking deeper into jones his spirit,  
Knowing he knew too much of his own merit,  
Hold it not safe he should be open to  
The windy baits of that so subtle foe,  
To gain him to his part; whose haughty mind  
Would soon take fire; then could not be confined.  
And if by such a plot they should be crossed,  
They all conclude that Kingdom were but lost.  
These grounds invite them wholly to decline  
His warfare there; so on some grand design  
Pretended they invite his quick repair  
To England's Court to act this great affair.  
Heco mes, but leaves his British troops to fight  
Tyrone to death; whose acts who please to write,  
May meet with subjects brave to rant upon,  
But for myself I am quite tired with one.  
And thus transported from the Irish strands,  
At Aberust with a Welsh Port he lands; 
A Town and Fort in the County of Cardigan.   
Where ere two days he fully spent for rest,  
A goodly vessel with cross winds oppressed,  
Comes boiling in; jones by her colours knows  
She is of Spain: his colour comes and goes  
At sight of hers; that such a godly prey,  
Should come (as 'twere) to meet him in his way.  
He musters straight a troop of british lads,  
Who on their mountain geldings clap their pads;  
With rusty bills instead of staves in rest;  
Such were their horse, such were their arms at best.  
Then with a fowling-piece the ship they hail,  
With confidence that she would strait strike sail:  
But she makes answer, that she was too hot,  
From her broad side with twenty Culver'n shot.  
This struck a stand, till jones cried out what doubt ye?  
The day is ours, masters lay about ye,  
Led the forlorn up bravely, and be bold,  
I'll bring the rear, for they know me of old,  
If once my name or person they descry,  
My life for yours they'll either yield or fly.  
Made bold with this, in full career they ride  
Up to the ridges of the flowing tide.  
But when they came brest-high amongst the waves,  
Their horse more wise by half than these mad knaves,  
Snort at the foaming billows, turn their tails,  
And make a fair retreat from Sea and Sailes;  
Which lest it should seem done on terms of fear,  
Jones to the front, now hastens from the rear,  
And leads them back again in good array,  
Neither with hasty flight, nor much delay.  
At his return he searcheth all that coast,  
To find a herring-boat or two at most;  
With which he doubts not but he'll sink or take  
This lusty Ship; whose bravest men will quake  
To hear his name. But Fate that had decreed  
To save her, caused her hoist her sails with speed.  
So with a strong fore-wind away she flies,  
And leaves our jones to seek some other prize.  
Thus crossed in this design to Court he went,  
Where he is met with noble compliment;  
And from the Queen such grace he doth receive,  
As he deserved, and stood with her to give.  
Now for the great affair that called him back,  
The Lords must pump for't in a cup of Sack  
To help invention: jones must be preferred  
To some employment, be it ne'er so hard.  
In deep consult and long discourse they sat on't,  
And studied for't; at last they lighted pat on't.  
It is resolved, that he must be the man  
To go in embassy to Prester John.  
The business carried with't a glorious face;  
Employed ambassador unto his Grace.  
The dangerous voyage to a place remote,  
Affects him most to get his name more note  
In foreign Lands; he'll not refuse the work,  
Were't to the Great Magul, or the Great Turk.  
A lusty Ship's prepared, again he goes;  
But what this great employment was, who knows?  
Reader I know thy thoughts are strongly bend  
To know this first design, on which he went.  
But know this first, that Princes secret ways,  
Are such as Ships cut thorough deepest Seas,  
Which shut still as they open, and him that sounds  
And enters too far in, their deepness drowns.  
If bare conjectures may give light to thee,  
Here take them freely; harmless thoughts are free.  
Perhaps this high blown spirit now is sent  
To foreign air, where it may purge and vent,  
And so return more fit the State to serve  
In their commands, who yet must him observe.  
Perhaps he went this Priestly Prince to gain  
Unto our Church; who gave good proof in Spain  
Of's power in this; or to negotiate  
Commerce between the Aethiop and our State,  
For tusks of Elephants to hast our knives,  
Apes and Baboons and Pugs to please our wives;  
Which things satiety makes common there,  
And curiosity orepriseth here.  
Be't what it will, our Jones is gone upon't,  
And we may know he will make something on't.  
His treacherous friend the Sea his charge receives,  
And with some flattering gales his hopes deceives,  
Making the Land his firmer friend appear  
Still less; until at last it brought him where  
He lost her sight: for three months' time he makes  
Good way; at last the wind his wings forsakes  
The Ship's becalmed, and to the Port she seeks,  
She gains not half a league for thirteen weeks.  
Jones finds this lazy war offends him more,  
Then all those hideous storms out-rid before.  
These sad effects this sleepy calm attend;  
Victual and beverage spent; less hope of end.  
Then fear of further miseries ensues,  
The Sea with calms his patience doth abuse,  
Turns devilish Statesman, puts on a smooth face  
Salutes and kills them with a soft embrace.  
'Twas now far worse with jones then erst with Skink  
For three weeks his own Urine is his drink,  
Which his hot body had so oft sublimed.  
'Tis grown a cordial, like gold thrice calcined.  
Breeses of wind at last his sails display,  
And waft him into the Barbaric bay,  
Then to the Arabic, next the Pilot laves  
His boisterous charge in Mare rubrum's waves.  
And lastly he attains beyond all hope,  
Errocco the sole Port of Aethiope,  
And here he lands, and empties many a bowl  
To allay the fury of his thirsty soul.  
After some rest he gets intelligence,  
Where 'twas the Prince then kept his residence;  
Where he repairs, and's told when he comes thither,  
The Prince and town are both removed to gether  
Some ten miles off. The Prince and town? (quoth jones)  
I have met my match: here's people make no bones  
Of things beyond belief. And yet 'twas true;  
This town was tents which fifty thousand drew,  
And raised in th'instant wheresoever the Prince  
State down to sport, or show magnificence.  
By Mount Amara now his Court he rears;  
A Mount far differing from the name it bears: 
Read purchas in his relations of Aethiopia, touching this Mount.   
If Paradise had ere a second birth  
Below the seat of Saints, 'tis there on earth.  
An humble valley is the Garden where  
This Mount is raised; a vale so rich, so rare;  
Nature grew bankrupt drawing this rich plot;  
And striving to be acquaint, she quite forgot  
To keep reserves: for by this work we know,  
She made it such she could make no more so.  
Amidst this vale is raised this lofty structure,  
Five leagues upright. It's outsides architecture  
Unpolished Marble; but so rich, so fair  
You'd think't a pillar of one stone in th'air,  
By some high power unto Atlas given,  
To ease his shoulders whilst it proppeth Heaven.  
This goodly Mount a specious plain doth crown,  
Embossed with Nature's gems, a velvet down  
That's always green; no frost, no winter here,  
Continual Spring: here Phoebus all the year  
From rise to set, doth always fire his eye,  
As loath to put so fair an object by.  
Here grow those happy trees from whence there springs  
That precious oil, which erst anointed Kings,  
And sacred Priests. Nor crowd they here to take  
One sense alone; the sent and sight partake.  
So are they ranked, as well to give a grace,  
As sweet perfumes, for tribute to the place.  
No orchard here, nor garden but the plain;  
The choicest fruit all Europe doth contain,  
Grow here unplanted, here's the luscious Grape,  
That makes Jove's Nectar: 'twas not Helen's rape  
That ruin'd Troy: the Apple got from Thence, 
The Apple which three goddesses, Juno, Pallas and Venus, contended for, which was given by Paris to Venus: whereupon followed the destruction of Troy.   
Had worth enough to do't. Here every sense  
Would surfeit, but each objects rarity  
Gives appetite without satiety,  
Roses and Tulips Flora gathers here  
When we have none, to crown her golden hair,  
And here Medea picked (if Jones speak truth)  
Those herbs which turned antiquity to youth:  
The only Phoenix deigns to wether here,  
The only place like her without a peer:  
Left all these sweets-should want sweet harmony  
A numerous choir of nightingales, comply  
To warble forth the sweet Amara's praise,  
Who turns their mourning notes to merry lays.  
Amidst this plaire there glide; a silver brook,  
So gently, that the suttlest eye may look,  
And find no motion; on his violet banks  
Thick Cypress trees marshal themselves in ranks,  
To keep out Phoebus: whose enamoured beams,  
Peep through each little crink to view his streams:  
His pavement azure gravel intermixed  
With orient pearls, and diamonds betwixt,  
Which as the airs soft breath his surface purls,  
Vary their gloss, and twinkle through his curls:  
Like a steeled glass presenting to the eye,  
The spangled beauty of the starry sky.  
Here Dolphins leave the sea to wanton; here  
Carp since the deluge their grown bodies cheer. 
A great epicure and Emperor of Rome.   
Umbrana's too; such had * Vitellius known,  
A province should have gone to purchase one:  
Such is Amara, such is Tempe field,  
Elysium on earth unparaleld,  
'Twas here this royal Priest now kept his Court:  
A place well suiting with his fame and port.  
And here comes Jones, where having mad's address,  
Letters of credence given at his access  
In Latin writ: in the same tongue he gives  
Jones gracious words, which language Jones conceives  
To be Arabic, for the Latin tongue  
He ne'er endured to learn nor old nor young,  
But that's all one, there's no reply expected,  
Unto a rich pavilion he's directed  
By men of State, where he is well attended,  
With all that's rich, and to his rest commended.  
Some few days spent, and time for audience got,  
When Prester John in royal State was set;  
Jones studying how t'express his eloquence  
In some strange language which might pose the Prince,  
Now trouls him forth a full mouthed Welsh oration,  
Boldly delivered as became his nation.  
The plot proved right, for not one word of sense  
Could be picked from't, which vexed the learned Prince.  
His learned Linguists are called in to hear,  
Who might as well have stopped each others ear  
For ought they understood, and all protest  
It was the very language of the Beast.  
Jones hath his end, and then to make it known  
He had more tongues t'express himself then one;  
In a new tone he speaks, not half so rich,  
But better known, 'twas English; unto which  
An English Factor is interpreter  
Between our Captain and John Presbyter;  
His business takes effect (what ere it was)  
And great expresses of respect do pass  
To Jones from him, as one he thought most rich  
In unknown tongues expressed in his first speech,  
And so admires him for he knows not what:  
But Jones may thank his mother-tongue for thot.  
His business done, he's led for recreation,  
To take the pleasures of that pleasant nation,  
To mount Amara's top, the chiefest grace,  
And perfect beauty of that Kingdom's face;  
And finding his great heart was most inclined  
To martial feats, all in one motion joined  
T'invite him to their deserts, where he might  
Make trial of his force in manly fight,  
With their wild beasts, and promised him consorts  
All truly tried t'assist him in those sports.  
The motion takes, a brave accoutred horse,  
And his own arms, he and's associate force  
Advance to hunt; me thinks I see them all  
Drawn to the life in canvasse 
* painted clothes in Inns and victualling houses.  against the wall,  
In some mean house made for good-fellowship,  
How fierce they look, how brave they prance and skip;  
With hounds and horns, and bil●s and picks and glaves,  
And spears and clubs, and many lightfoot knaves:  
In this brave equipage they march away  
To the known haunts where these wild creatures pray.  
'Twas Jones his trick of old to ride alone:  
In hard adventures he'll admit of none  
To share with him, from them he steals aside,  
And in the desert by himself doth ride.  
Nor road he long till just against him stalks  
A ramping Lion new come from his walks,  
Jones draws, the furious beast with fiery eyes  
And bristled mane, against his bosom flies,  
But his keen sword met full with his fore paws,  
And whipped them off; and so he scap't his claws.  
Nor stayed it there, but gave a cruel wound  
To his left jaw, and feled him to the ground.  
Then nimbly wheels about, and stepped aside,  
Leaps from his horse which to a tree he tied:  
Then turns again, and with his sword falls to't,  
To end this combat with him foot to foot,  
The wounded beast with all his power doth hasten,  
His fearful fangs in Jones his throat to fasten.  
Whilst on's hind feet he assaults him bolt upright,  
With left hand armed, Jones stunnes with him the right;  
Strikes both his hind legs off: yet on his stumps  
The noble beast unconquered fiercely jumps  
Full at his face with open mouth, and there,  
(For his grim face could raise in Jones no fear)  
In shoots the deadly blade, and out behind,  
Where't makes a second vent for life's short wind;  
This thrust with right hand armed so home was lent  
That hand and hilt quite throw together went,  
Where taking hold of his strong stern (for truth  
He swears) he drewed quite through his trunk this mouth.  
Then with fine force (the like was never seen)  
He strips his inside out, and's outside in.  
Thus tergiverst upon his steed he flings him,  
Then mounts himself, & to the Court he brings him.  
Never was royal beast so grossly jaded,  
But 'twas his fat which could not be evaded,  
Unto the gallants of the Court he shows,  
How hard th'adventure was, what thrusts, what blows;  
On every circumstance he doth dilate;  
Nor adds he much to truth, nor much doth bate:  
For much he spoke, the Lion made it good  
With loss of his four legs, and his best blood.  
This strange achievement strikes them all with wonder,  
'Twas never seen since Greece's Alexander.  
Lysimachus, Lisander, nor Perdiccas, 
Read Gurtius, touching these.   
Nor any of his Chiefs, ere did the like as  
Our Jones in this: 'Tis true, they write they killed,  
In single fight some few of these in field;  
But here's a force born with a higher sail,  
Transtorting tail to head, and head to tail.  
The Prince in words this high achievement praised:  
But inward fear and jealousy it raised  
Of our brave Queen, whose sceptre doth command  
Such men whose power no Nation can withstand.  
Jones might so far on his own strength presume, as  
To seize his throne, as 
* A private Spanish Commander, that took this great King of Mexico▪ with a handful of men.  Cortes Montezuma's  
Had done before. These thoughts he oft revolves  
With troubled mind, and so in fine resolves  
To shift him thence: makes for his fair pretence,  
Matter of high and hasty consequence,  
To be with speed conveyed unto our Queen;  
Except herself it must by none be seen.  
This past on Jones, who parts with high content,  
Nobly presented with fair compliment.  
Amongst the rest, a Parrot that could speak  
All tongues but jones his own; that had a beak  
Of perfect coral, plumed as white as snow:  
This he accepts, and so to Sea does go:  
Where under sail such welcome he receives,  
As one dire foe unto another gives.  
With calms, and storms, & winds, all cross, that bear  
The ship quite off the course that she would steer  
Long time thus spent, into a Bay he drives,  
And at a Port unknown at last arrives:  
Where he beholds a glorious Castle built  
High on a cliff, whose walls pure gold, or guilt  
To him appeared. Which object caused him land,  
To know who did this Princely seat command.  
He's told it is the Queen of No-lands place,  
The onle relict of her royal race,  
A Maiden Queen that here doth keep her Court,  
Where many Kings and Princes of high port  
Make their address, and lose themselves in love,  
To purchase hers, for not a man can move  
Her heart to wed, though ne'er so great his state,  
Or form exact, such was the will of Fate.  
Here as he lands, a large Cannow was sent  
To know from whence he was, and whither bend.  
In this a Dutch man came by happy Fate,  
Who could his Language to the Queen translate.  
This man he tells as briefly as he can,  
His voyage from his Queen to Prester John:  
How by cross winds in his return he's blown,  
And forced into this port to him unknown.  
Jones is resolved to see and to be seen  
Of this great Princess, that our virgin Queen  
Might know when he returns what form, what port  
This royal virgin carried in her Court.  
Thus like an errand Knight all armed complete,  
He marcheth boldly to her Palace gate,  
All massy polished brass; at his first ward,  
Six milk-white Panthers fierce were chained for guard.  
Thence through a large great specious Court he passed,  
And so ascends twelve ivory steps at last,  
With ebon columns, unto which were tie  
Twelve sharp kept Lions, who all yawned wide  
When strangers do approach. Jones through them all  
Is safely guarded to a goodly Hall.  
From thence ascends to rooms of greater state,  
And comes at last where this Princess royal sat  
Upon a strange rich bed, not stuff d with down,  
But closely wrought, and like a bladder blown;  
Three Aethiops on each side, to fan the air  
With Ostrich plumes perfumed as rich as fair.  
Her beauty could not boast of white and red,  
But jet like black; about her crisp curled head  
And cheeks, there hang rich flaming stones and pearls,  
That past Mark Anthony's Egyptian girls.  
In brief; if Tuscan lived to limne the night  
Sparkling with stars, this were her picture right.  
No sooner to her sight doth Jones appear;  
Then to her heart his piercing eyes shot fire;  
Which Cupid blows and raised into a flame,  
That warms her zeal to invocate his name.  
No part of jones but in her eye exceeds  
All humane shape; some god he must be needs.  
But when at here request he doth relate  
The chances of his past and present state;  
Never was ear with Orpheus' harp possessed  
As hers with jones, whilst he his life expressed.  
Those that have warmed themselves by these strong fires  
May easily guess what fruits her wild desires  
Produced to jones; The observance of the Court,  
With feasts and banquets, and all Princely sport,  
Are at his foot: he cannot name nor wish  
That meat he likes, but strait 'tis in his dish.  
In this high state some months he takes his ease,  
Whilst this sick Princess feeds on her disease:  
At last a sharp alarm damps these desires,  
Which threatened death, but could not quench her fires  
A Prince there was mighty in bulk and mind,  
Whose Kingdoms confines unto No-land joined:  
Descended in his race from Og of Basan;  
You'd think his very name might well amaze one,  
Bahader Cham Mombaza's King; h'had been  
A long hot suitor to this mighty Queen,  
But still repulsed: now this unruly fire  
Suppressed with scorn, breaks forth from love to ire.  
A mighty host he raised, and marcheth through  
The heart of No-land, to command, not woo:  
Approaching near her Court, he sends her word  
She must be his own Queen at bed and board,  
Or see her Kingdom burn in higher flames,  
Then his for her: yet (for his spirit shames  
To war with women) if she can find out  
One man in all her Realm, that is so stout  
In her defence with him his sword to try,  
he'll bravely win her, or he'll bravely die.  
Her Courtiers quailed at this, who knew his force  
Could not be paralleled by man nor horse.  
Nor could it choose but make the Queen look black,  
Not pale. Th'interpreter at jones his back  
Rounds in his ear this proud imperious speech;  
Had she been thence, h'had bid him kiss his breech  
For this proud message: up howe'er he starts,  
And this loud answer with his mouth he farts;  
Go tell Bahader Cham Mombaza's King,  
One Mars begot in's wrath will have a fling  
With him ere night, that one who at one breath  
Don Diego and Gonzago did to death,  
Will look him dead; nor will I only be  
This Princess champion, but (thy Cham to see)  
I'll walk through beds of Scorpions: for I hear  
He dares enough, and I can brook no peer.  
This high reply ne'er moved the haughty Cham,  
Let jones be what he will he's still the same.  
The day's his own before the fight's begun:  
Were Mars himself in stead of Mars his son.  
A back and breast and helmet strong he donned,  
Well wrought and varnished by some Indian hand,  
A whale-bone bow he takes of special strength,  
With arrows barbed, at least two yards in length:  
A crooked Scimitar whose edge was flint,  
Quaintly conjoined and some tough speel was in't,  
To make it proof against the strength of steel.  
Oft had this sword made headstrong Giants reel.  
By his right side a massy Mace he hangs,  
With which his sturdy foes to death he bangs.  
A buckler like a Spanish ruff he wore  
About his neck, full half yard deep, or more:  
He wore not this for his defence, or grace,  
But to keep off his urine from his face.  
For you must know that member was still mounted:  
The bravest woman's man on earth accounted.  
And thus prepared, this lusty Termagant,  
Ascends his Castle on his Elephant.  
And then advanceth to a spacious Green,  
Before the Castle of this maiden Queen.  
A brave Arabian courser is prepared  
For Jones, his own true arms he dons for guard,  
Llwellins sword to do; and so descends  
Down to the Green, where the fierce Cham attends.  
jones was to seek what kind of fight were best,  
To make against this Giant and his beast.  
Both far exceed in strength himself and horse,  
And therefore art must now be joined with force:  
No breast to breast, a nimble charge, and gone.  
His ready steed as soon comes off as on.  
Had not the well tried arms he wore proved true,  
The Chams smart whale-bone bow had made him rue  
This bold attempt: but what can whales weak bones,  
When whales themselves came short to swallow jones;  
Thus thrice he charged, and thrice he came off clear,  
At last he came close up in full career,  
And turning short, the horses hind feet slipped:  
Through which mischance the Carry-castle ripped  
His bowels forth, with's tusk; down falls the horse:  
The surious beast clasped jones with his probosce;  
And mounts him high; but in his rise he found  
The means to give Bahaders face a wound,  
And cuts in th'instant off, the trunk that clasped him:  
So down the Elephant was forced to cast him.  
This hard exploit none ere performed before,  
But one of Caesar's Soldiers and no more. 
Read the Commentaries de bello Africno.   
The wounded beast enraged with pain cries out  
With hideous voice, and plunged and branced about  
The Green, till from his seat the Prince he throw'th,  
And then (for by the Cham from his first growth,  
This feat he had been taught) though mad with pain,  
He strives to mount him on his back again.  
But jones had lopped off his strong trunk before,  
Whereby he could perform this feat no more.  
Here jones denies he bred this docill beast,  
Taught to his hand, he got him to the East;  
And his report must have belief before us,  
Who swears it was the same that carried 
* Read Curtius touching that Elephant of Porus, who often remounted his master with his trunk in that battle between him and Alexander.  Porus  
Against the Macedon. I cannot see  
How by wise natures rules this thing should be,  
Unless in Pliny's Volumes it appears,  
That Elephants may live two thousand years.  
Now jones leaps up in haste, and swiftly flies,  
With sword in hand, where bruised Bahader lies;  
And ere he could get up, one washing stroke  
His head & buckler from his shoulders took;  
Which when 'twas off, they may compareed that will,  
To the grim S john's head on Ludgate hill.  
His numerous Army struck with grief and fright  
At his sad fate betook itself to flight,  
And thus was No-lands Queen redeemed by jones  
From bondage, rape, and No-lands loss at once.  
Now if she loved our Captain well before,  
In reason she must love him ten times more,  
Which she expressed by laying at his foot  
Her people, No-land, and herself to boot:  
But whether 'twas the god of loves deep curse,  
That she refused for better, or for worse,  
Those mighty Princes which to her he sent,  
To make her dote on a nonresident;  
Flings snow-balles at his heart, and flames at hers;  
To keep conjunction from these errand Stars;  
Or whether jones his genitals had got  
Some lame defect by Skinks late desperate shot  
And so his noble heart made him refuse,  
What having got he could not rightly use.  
'Tis not in me to judge, but this I know,  
Her violent fires scorched her, and him his snow,  
So cold that to avoid her amorous sight,  
He leaves her court, and steals to sea by night:  
So Jason used Medea erst, but he's  
So wise to take with him the golden fleece,  
Which Jones contemned to do, and thought himself  
When safe returned, his country's Mine of wealth.  
No certain ground I have here to relate,  
This great deserted Queens unhappy fate,  
But Sr. John Mandevil's, who doth deliver,  
As jones reports, he came soon after thither,  
And found the people's outside all in black;  
A sad expression for their Princess wrack▪  
Who told him lately there arrived a man,  
All white, who for them wondrous things had done,  
Redeeme'd their Queen and kingdom from the shame  
Of rape and rapine, which Bahader Cham  
Came there to act, and was in open field,  
By this white man in single combat killed.  
Their Queen enamoured with this matchless man,  
Refused and left by him: when nothing can  
Quench her wild fires but Carthage Queens hard fate,  
Whilst on the Cliff with pensive thoughts she sat,  
A sudden spring she gave, and so commends  
Herself to sea, where life and love she ends.  
No more of this sad stuff: let's all at once  
Join in a joyful welcome home to jones.  
In six month's sail he steers by Goodwin sands,  
Casts anchor at the Downs: the next day lands,  
Hasts to the Queen at London, there expresses  
Every particular of his addresses  
To Prester John; the great affairs success  
As she desired: Lastly, in his progress,  
He might have married the great Queen of No-land,  
But this the Queen gave credit to at no hand,  
'Till 'twas confirmed by Sr. John Mandevill,  
Whose strange reports they may believe that will.  
Now let us well observe the happy Fate,  
Which still provided for the Queen and State.  
Jones had not rested fully three days here,  
But out there breaks a great and fearful fire  
Off 〈◊〉 rebellion; and to quench it, none's  
So 〈◊〉 〈…〉 mmon sense, as Captain Jones.  
Brave Essex through affronts turned malcontent,  
Hatches i●'s breast a desperate intent,  
To seize the Person of the Queen, and those  
He found most ne'er about her his strong foes.  
Her Grace and Counsel call for Jones, to know  
What in his judgement now were best to do.  
Who first her gracious pardon doth beseech.  
And then delivers this short pithy speech.  
First guard the Court with Westminster's strong bands,  
Call in the neighbouring Counties by commands.  
Out with your household men, shut up your gates;  
we'll make your foes turn tail with broken pates.  
Then call to you the richest of your Citts,  
But seek no cash; for in their bags their wits  
Are close knit up: but only thus much make  
Them know, their wives and fortunes lie at stake;  
That they shall want no succour, whilst your hand  
Can grasp the sword, and sceptre of this Land.  
Thus arm their hearts, & rouse them from their beds,  
And then let us alone to arm their heads.  
She now requires, that Jones in person go  
To Essex, his intents to sound and know;  
To use all fairest means that may reduce him,  
From those lewd ways, to which lost men seduce him.  
He undertakes it; hastens to the Lord,  
And is admitted in as soon as heard.  
And here he finds Sr. Walter Raleigh with him;  
Some ill was in't, his fancy strait doth give him.  
He knew he came not to the Earl for good,  
But to provoke him to some madder mood.  
Therefore from thence our Jones doth Raleigh rate,  
Shaking his martial truncheon o'er his pate:  
Bids him pack thence to th'knaves of his Grand Jury,  
he'll make him else th'example of his fury.  
Raleigh was wise, and ruled by his best sense;  
Gives place to time, and so withdraws from thence.  
Then Jones these Counsels to the Earl began,  
How full of dangers were the ways he ran.  
How weak his power; much less unto the force  
Of England's then his Raine-deer's to a horse.  
Thus his brave Family must be destroyed,  
His honours lost, his ancient house made void:  
Beside, his cause was naught; for though himself  
Near read the laws of this great Common wealth.  
Yet he had heard some Lawyer say long since,  
There was no law to captivate our Prince.  
Thus all the harmless blood that shall be spilt  
In this bad cause, must lie on Essex guilt.  
Lay hand on heart most noble Peer, (quoth Jones)  
The Queen can pardon, and enrich at once.  
Be you but good, she can be gracious,  
Your own experience can inform you thus.  
Thus Jones possessed his noble heart so far,  
He is resolved to wave the chance of war;  
Himself and house he yields unto the Queen,  
And her cold mercy, which too soon was seen.  
This is the last great act I can relate,  
Of his good service for the Queen and State:  
Rewards fit for his worth there were prepared,  
Which his high spirit passed by without regard:  
And his great Queen was seriously bend,  
To put him in some place of government;  
But Nature only taught the man to fight,  
And his rude Mother not to read and write.  
Which was the chiefest cause that made him hate  
To be employed in mysteries of State▪  
Besides, he was not pleased that her Grace  
Cut off this Noble man before his face,  
Whom he brought in; it may be his own lot,  
With axe or cord for nought to go to pot.  
Thus ignorance, a discontented mind,  
And worth ill weighed, do make him fall behind  
Occasions lock; which lost, he never more,  
Though bred and breathed on hills, shall get before.  
Now time and bruises, and much loss of blood,  
Had made jones feel cold age was not so good  
As fiery youth; he needs must find a fail  
Of what he was: declined from top to tail.  
Which made him wish he might put up his rest,  
And breathe his last in his own Country's breast.  
And for this cause he went unto her Grace,  
And begged of her a Muster-masters place,  
In Wales, near his first home: where he may spend  
His later days in peace, and in it end:  
And yet to leave behind his martial art,  
To Wale's posterity, before he part.  
This suit with speed and readiness is granted,  
And so to Wales our Muster-master's janted.  
Here many years he spent in telling more,  
Or less of those strange things he did before:  
At last in his old age he grows so wild,  
He needs must marry, to beget a child.  
Which though he missed, the mastery he must have  
o'er every sex, jones sent her to her grave▪  
Devotion now with his old age increased,  
He meditates thrice every day at least.  
His only prayer was the Absolution  
In our old Liturgy, with some confusion  
Of short ejaculations in his bed,  
For some old slips, and for the blood he shed;  
Especially for those six Kings he killed  
Without remorse at the Juzippian field:  
At last death comes, whose power he defied  
From first to last, and, thus he lived and died.   

Now you wild blads that make loose Inns your stage  
To vapour forth the acts of this sad age,  
Your Edghil fight, the Newberies and the West,  
And Northern clashes; where you still fought best:  
Your strange escapes, your dangers void of fear,  
When bullets flew between the head and ear:  
Your pia matters rend, perished your guts,  
Yet live, as than ye had been but earthen butts:  
Whether you fought by Dam me, or the Spirit,  
To you I speak, still waving men of merit,  
Be modest in your tales, if you exceed  
My Captain's hard atchivements, I'll proceed  
Once more to imp my rural muses wings,  
And turn my lyre so high, I'll break her strings,  
But I will reach ye, and thence raise such laughter,  
As shall continue for five ages after.   

The Captain's Elegy.  

ANd art thou gone brave man? bathe conqering death  
Put a full period to thy blustering breath?  
Thus hath she played her masterpiece? and here  
Fixed her nil supra on thy sable beer?  
Scapest thou those hideous storms, those horrid sights,  
With many Giants; cruel beasts, fierce Knights?  
Such dangerous stratagems, such foes intrapping,  
And now hath death don't? sure she took thee napping,  
For hadst thou been awake to use thy sword,  
She would have shunned thee, and have ta'en thy word  
For thy appearance, till the last return  
Of her long term. Or did thy mettle burn  
Through thy chapt clay unto Elysium's shades  
T' encounter with the ghosts of those old blades,  
Great Caesar, Scipio, Annibal; 'cause here  
Thy fiery spirit could not find its peer?  
How couldst thou else find time to fold thy arms  
In thy still grave, now Mars raines bloody storms,  
On Christian earth? great Austria would be ours  
Without pitched field, without beleaguering towers:  
Wert thou but here, thy sword would strike the stroke  
To break or bring their necks to Britain's yoke.  
Perhaps it was the providence of Fate,  
To snatch thee up, lest thou shouldest come too late,  
Now soldiers drop pel mel, whose souls might thrust  
Thine from the chiefest place, which thou from first  
Hast gained on earth; now what shall England do?  
Limp like some grandam that hath lost her shoe.  
Put case a new Tyrone again should spring  
From his old urn, no some such furious thing  
As fierce Mac-kil-cow, where were then our Jones,  
To bring these Rebels on their marrow bones?  
Or say against Spain our pikes we re-advance,  
For their old Sack, as such a thing may chance,  
Where shall we then find out that Martial man,  
That killed six thousand with nine score? he's gone.  
And we that lick the dish that Homer leapt in,  
What fury now shall our dull brains be rapt in?  
We must go sing Sr. Lanchelot and rehearse  
Old Huan's villainous prose in Wilder verse;  
Or else put up our pipes, and all at once,  
Cry farewell wit: all's gone with Captain Jones.  
Well go thy ways (old blade thoust done thy share  
For things beyond belief time (never fear)  
Will give thee being here: thoust left us stuff,  
To build thy Pyramid, more than enough,  
To equal Cayre's, and happily 'twil out last it,  
So with thy glorious deeds we may rough cast it.  
Farewell great soul, and take this praise with many;  
Except thy foes, thou ne'er didst harm to any:  
And thus far let our Muse thy loss deplore,  
Well she may sigh, but she shall ne'er sing more.    

His EPITAPH.  

T Read softly (mortals) o'er the bones  
Of the world's wonder Captain Jones:  
Who told his glorious deeds to many,  
But never was believed of any:  
Posterity let this suffice,  
He swore all's true, yet here he lies.   
FINIS.