A Letter from Rhoan in France Written by Doctor Roan one of the Doctors of the late sick Commons, to his Fellow Doctor of the Civil Law. Dated 28, of june last passed.  
With an Ellegy written by his own hand upon the death and burial of the said Doctors Commons.  

O poor Roan,  
Thou are quit gone  
And left all alone,  
O Hone, oh Hone!   
Printed in this happy year, 1641.   

Letter from Rouen in France, written by Doctor Rouen Dr. of the Civil Law, to one of his fellow Doctors. Dated June 28, Anno Dom. 1641.  
SIR.  
I Hope you are alike sensible with me of the danger of these difficult times: 'tis true, I am held but as a Fugitive, as one fled into France, and it was but time (And I am glad I took occasion by the forelock,) otherwise I knew our own Ecclesiastical Canons would have been charged and bend against me, and what I pray you have you got by your tarrying at home, when their terrible thunder shall strike you sooner and nearer and at home, then me being abroad and far off? Therein the detriment of your delay, and the benefit of my active dispatch, you being now present to abide all their perverse sentences: and I privileged from all their peremptory censures.  
But I pray Master Doctor, but let us recall to ourselves ab Origine from the beginning of our first acquaintance, when you and I were first Students in Trinity Hall in Cambridge: 'tis true, that when we were first there fellow commoners, our ambitions were to be after Doctors of the Commons, and though I then trivanted my time, and was none of the best proficients, yet what by the freeness of my purse, and favour of friends, I took my Degree when the time of commencement came, and so shuffled in amongst the rest of my fellow students, that it was put upon me, without question, and then that one old English meeter came into my mind. 
A Master of Art is not worth a fart,  
Unless he be in the Schools:  
A Bachelor of Law is not worth a straw  
Unless he be amongst fools.   
ANd then I knew withal how to cheat the Latin proverb which saith, Cucullus non facit Monachum: presuming that the head, and that only made the Doctor: Sir I would not have been so plain to any but yourself, whom I know to be a fellow practitioner in all my former proceed, and come a like sufferer in these our present Calamities, which makes me unto you so freely to confess myself; and not without a sorrowful sigh to say, 
Qui non ante Cavet, Iste,  
Passus erit quod sit triste.  
Since he is not well to speed,  
Who before hand takes not heed.   
YOu know Doctor (and no man better) that being Cucullated and admitted into the Commons, we must carry ourselves like soldiers doubling our files to the right hand & to the left, & such is our case in dealing with our clients, for receiving of our fees, it is not fitting that the left hand should know what the right hand doth, and notwithstanding I know my insufficiency in the imperial or civil Law, as only versed in the ordinary Tenants and common places; for I ever loved too much my pleasure to take ●oo much pains at my study, yet I so sk●ued myself into Causes and took the occasion of all advantages, gathering up crumbs, I cared not from under whose Table, that in process of time I picked up a thousand pounds in my purse, which not willing it should lie idle and rust in a corner, I was apt to put it out to Opus and Vsus: But (child as I was) delivering it into the hands of Child the Scrivener, I was cheated of it all at a clap, never was Rouen served such an horse trick; notwithstanding which, I bore it cut bravely, and though both purse and pockets were prettily emptied, yet I ba●ed nothing in my countenance, and Dominie Doctor was then the only thing I had to trust to, which supported me in my credit assisted with my small practice, and loud clamour in the Courts.  
For how could we live at that full rate, to feed high and drink deep, to carry all our deportments in that gentile garb, by ordinary fees; and common gratuities? no; where skill is scanted we must use slight and subtlety, and when learning is lacking we must fly to Legerdimane; nay sometimes fee as we would be feed, and bribe as our desire is to be bribed, this is lex Talionis the Law of Tallying, manus manum fricat, claw me, claw thee, nay indeed, the true law of charity, to do to others as we would have done to ourselves and therefore how oft have I come off, with silk stockings to divers of my Lord Archbishop schiefe servants with suits of Satin, plush cloaks, beavers and the like, and sometimes presented their Chaplains with Canonical Cassocks and levitical girdles; not passing the gate, without a memorandum to the porter, now if any shall say what was the event or success of these? to them I answer, than had I countenance in the high Commission Court (a pox take it, and would I had never known it,) and his mighty Metropolitanship, would either take notice of me, by affording me a gracious nod, or sweetening me with a smile, or perhaps saying, how doth my good Doctor and this get me credit amongst my Clients, Intelligence from the Sumnors, and paritors, practise by the means of the Courtiers and a current Correspondence with the chief Doctors of the Commons, so that I was not only favoured by Surrogates, but friended by the Judges of the Courts themselves.  
Moreover I was Martin's Minion, Lambs best beloved, and Duck's delight, and in which of their Courts soever I pleaded, or was of Counsel, I carried the cause, though it were false and corrupt, as the Latin I uttered or mine own Conscience, and then I thought Doctor Roan to be as good a man within his Prerogative Courts of Freedom: as Dr. de-Roan in his great principality of France, for the registers of courts, were as my retainers or rather receivers, by agitating of whom I passed all mine Acts whether in false or true Latin substance or non sense, all was one between them and me, as things were carried amongst us, witness the first Act for process and others, as the Acts ad Procedendum, ad Continus ndum, ad molius Inquirendum, ad sententium, ad Detractandum, ad Concludendum, ad finitum, and I am afraid if I had stayed by it, and not took my heels in time, I had been served by this with a writ of Diem clausit Extremum; and these Courses I have been forced to run, otherwise by this I had been forced to have begged or sold Ballets in the streets, but I praise my Star, I have passed over all these difficulties, but most for escaping of that most dangerous Writ ne excat regnum.  
But in the way of news thus briefly: The Protestants and Papists, are together by the ears in France, and they are all of them as sick of the magni potent Cardinal, as you of your metropolitan Canterbury.  
And now let me recollect you of a passage, which as it is in my Register so I make no question it fell in your remembrance, how I fetched of one of our proud peremptory Proctors who look● as high and big as Guy of Warwick, when he had killed the done Cow of Dunmowe, or came newly from the slaughter of Colubrand the mighty and huge Danish Grant, whose brains he beat out with his pilgrim or palmers staff: this courageous cup Conqueror, walking late in the evening meeting with a Citizen and his wife in Fleetstreet, took her away perforce, and like a Familist, in the heat of his zeal, hurried her away to his chamber, and made that use of this pretty matron, that you and I have done of many; but mum: no more words of that, for the proverb tells us, it is an ill bird that will bewray her own nest. And we of the Commons made conscience to hold all such Commodities in common: but now I repent me of passing those bandy acts, but silence for that, and stet too: but to return where I left.  
This cunning and crafty (I will not say Cuckold) Citizen after complaint made brought him within the compass of our spiritual Courts, and prosecuted the cause against him by one of his fellow proctor's, but the cunning delinquent seeing me to be one of his Counsel, I undertook his defence, by pretending, he took him for a knave, and her for a prostitute, and having but one witness, the plaintiff was condemned in Court, and I brought the business to an easy composition, a good and bountiful supper ended it, where I fed prodigal like a lusty Roan-horse, with a full manger of provender before him.  
I have intelligence here in France, that some pen or other having had commiseration of the fall of our Commons, have not only sorrowed with us in that sickness, but took the pains to make its last will and Testament; and what legacies the Court hath left behind it, I know not whether the will be yet proved or no, nor who be the heirs and executors; but of this I am certain, that after death there must be a burial; and (if it come not too late, for which I should be sorry) I would entreat you to let this funeral Elegy, to be hanged upon the hearse, which I would entreat you to bear this title following.  

A Funeral Elegy made by Dr. Rouen now a fugitive in France, upon the fall or death of Doctor's Commons.  

Mourn Court of Honour, thou in the first place,  
The Doctor's Commons, is a common case.  
For now your Heralds shall no more behold  
Titles, and Arms of Gentry bought and sold:  
For when old Adam digged, and his wife span,  
Which was the Lady? who the Gentleman?   

And thou great Chamber, but so lately graced,  
With Luminous stars, in thy bright Zodiac placed;  
Who, as they in their several Orbs did shine,  
From each one's Lustre did proceed a fine.  
Since thy whole firmament, at once is shaken,  
As if in some great Tempest Thunderstruck.  
Summon thy servants on this hearse to wait,  
From those that bought their places at high rate?  
To every Clerk, Examiner, even he,  
That in cut-fingerd gloves can take a fee,  
And cheat the Client, (for all profit sweet)  
With thirteen straddling lines in every sheet.   

Mourn likewise you, late of the high Commission,  
Since your great Court is sentenced to perdition:  
And he the chief in that Prelattick power,  
Is leapt at once from Lambeth to the Tower.   

You of th' Episcopacy (I mean those tainted,)  
Who might have been canonised and Sainted,  
Had you fair courses run, leave drinking sack,  
And die your white sleeves into mourning black.   

Nor do you bring to hang upon this hearse,  
Sad Epitaphs, either in prose or verse.  
I rather wish that these his funeral ,  
May be decored with Ex Officio oaths,  
New Canons, and th' unlimited Et caetera,  
To which, let other Courts, bring in their Vetera,  
And Nova Testamenta: Th' Office of wills  
Will better furnish you then Chancery bills,  
(●hough pitifully complaining) Let all men  
This know, here is no work for Poet's pen:  
Unless that Davenant were put in mind,  
And sent too to the place where he's confined;  
To undertake that charge, as the most fit,  
Both for his present case, and pregnant wit.  
In which; how swanlike had our Suckling sung,  
Were he not now in France to learn the tongue?   

And thou, that lately in thy place didst brag,  
Thou famous Pursuivant, brave Bonny-Rag,  
Since now thy business will no better fadge,  
I wish thee, sell thy guarded Coat and Badge,  
To buy a black cloak, and to grace the throng.  
Thy fellow Maze bring with thee along?   

Mourn also you of th' Arches, for you know,  
Your Courts shall now no more be kept in Bow.  
You of the Delegates, by which we have fed,  
Most delicately, that now may seek our bread,  
Let not the Court of Audience her grief smother:  
Where we would hear ourselves speak and no other.  
And thou Prerogative Court hast lost thy Glory,  
We shall no more gain by the Consistory:  
Mourn Bawdy Court, or Court of Defamations;  
Bring to this hearse your Excommunications,  
And processes with Scales, mourn all you Doctors,  
Advocates, Surrogates, Farritors and Proctors;  
Since all these Courts the Parliament doth damn,  
Mourn and lament you all with Duck and Lamb;  
For your abuses the whole State abhors,  
And you yourselves have no Compurgators.   

Bear part in this our grief, you Custom Farmers,  
Who have been others long, now your own harmers.  
As being forced of late back to restore,  
What from the King you had deteynd before,  
Tonnage and poundage: be ye now Petitioners,  
That Farmers, be not changed into Commissioners.   

Mourn ye too, that pretended to be rectors  
Of the abused State, all you Projectors  
A●d Patentees; help this our hearse to deck▪  
With Kilvert, and A bell about his neck:  
And thus much I, for Doctor's Commons Crave,  
That he may go with decence to his grave.  
Doctor Rouen one of that Society,  
From Rouen in Normandy.    
FINIS.