^^^ ^ ^ -1 A ~- "' ' fK =¥17 c/: = =^ And docs our Hearts with Grief^nd VVonflbr Wound; J To Death's Embraces mufl She Yield, and Lie rndbalm'd in Uuft, without an ELECT; Nr, rather let me come wi;h Tribute Verfe, - And Strot*' fome S^burhful Cyprus on her Hcarfe : Ac'ijt measa Cipivirhereto come, ' Who, though am Kothiog, yet can raife i Sum- Spcik 1 hen my Miif'e, and Speak in luch a Strain, As may rit Audience from the World obtain. Siicak, though like Grief her ftlf, when Clad in Woe, To MelancMy Seats She halls, which Flow With Floods of Tears, are hung with Wcepinij Eyes, And SitaI'd with Sighs apd Groans tJiat thither Rife, Wh'ld Loud Liments break through and Storm theSkies; Tell thtt a Glorious Beauty is with drawn To Silent Seats of EverlartiTg Dawn , Cropt like a Giy Flower by 1omc Rude H*nd, Or like a ifloITom by the North Winds Faii'd ; As quick, as if her Fate had been in ba(K-, Shfr's fetia Death, She upon whom were plac'd The willing Eyejof NumbersSlic Relciv'd, Cou'd not from Dcatlv be by their ^ruyers fteprsiv'd Inexorable Death, no Bribe cou'd ftay The Witly, Rich, ar.d Beauteous muftObey, When by him Summon'd to Eternal Day : Yef, let's not think her Dtail, who nt'r fhall Die ^ .'.I Time's inpulf 'd In vail Eternity. 'Tijl/lut her Shaddow that vre now nave left ;' Shefeft but tliis for a more diirini»(:oal^ Atidi* but Freed fron Troubles that « cro hiu-l'd. Like moviW; Storms upon tlie Reftle(s World We all muff go, (hough all not at a time, ^omc Age bafriends, Ibme fnatch'd arc in their Prime- ^ Mankind was Dull, and muft be Duft agiin. And all njuft Die, though none knows where, nor when i So have I feen an unfix'd Star Remain, „ A Titne with Erightnefs, 'mongft the Numerous Train Of Glittering Fires, when Darting fuddainly, It Ictt its Sphere no more to I ight the Skie I ( But fome mav Caft Objeftions in, and lay The'e fcatter d Praifts'that we feektolav Ipon her Hearlb, arc but tlie (omial Way ; Yet, wlicn we tell them She was free from Strife; Currcous even to the Poor, no Pride of Life E're Emeruining, but did much Abound in Charity, and tor k was Reno wn'd. Not IcekiBg'Prsifes, bdtdid viUjiPraife dilpift. And at lier Alms was heard no Trumpets Noifc And bow ajain, wc!ettl|em further (cc. That She refiis'd arid hated Flattery ; And far from her DifTcmblersdid Command, We may have Hopes her Fame for this may flaad. rilowever, let thefofter Scsutyscome, And bring their Wreaths of Flowrs to Deck her Totfcb ; vlix'J with the Mournful Cipcrus ar^d Yetv; Weep, that the Witty and the Gay withdrew. i Leavint; the World fo loon, let all the Train I Of thofe that Fed upon her Bounty Drain Their full Eyes, and of Dcatli's Cruelty ComplaiH , rhat he by not p«/raitongher to (lay, rook that fati Hoar, their Maintenance away, let all thofe that She hasadvanc'd appear, .-in 'in their Eyes, their Silent Sorrow wear ; Till every Moilrner for a tiriie, hccotiie Sad as her Fate, and like her Lifclefs Body Dnnrtb. E.P i T A l^ //. IF B amy, Wit, orFririiis, htiPosti in fj~'. Alive, xehlt th'S 'Tcml dor' fii-i* Dt.irh Hrtti if, l( hjil not yet ici/j hire ; ftt ((ad-.r, li*'t \\l ■■« thit D:*CE. LO H P :■ », Prir.ica b^ I>.l'itBil, oc>t»oorio iS^iSgn of ibeStar, bc!Wjraf7< t trii .i ini »riJnr re-Sri^t; I'i?. A LITTLE ARK CONTAINING SUNDRY PIECES OF SEVENTEENTH- CENTURY VERSE COLLECTED AND EDITED BY G. THORN-DRURY cpolo^oAf^o P. J. & A. E. DOBKLL 8 Bruton Street, W. 1921 » 1 . > -,0 ' o All rights reserved , tc • . ' • • • • « • •••♦.. •* • « c e *«( • • > • « • • c • « c c e t c c AC ^ » c * « • I ' '■it • . • » • ..« %» » y 51" GO tbe /iDcmor^ of ^ Josepb IbaslewooC). 1769*1833. CONTENTS PAGE Dedication ... ... ... ... ... iii Prefatory Note ... ... ... ... vii Preludium. Ben Jonson ... ... ... 1 Verses to Massinger. Henry Parker ... ... 2 The Prologue and Songs between the Acts of Walter Montague's The Shepheard's Paradise ... 4 A Valiant Martyr, &c. Robert Davenport ... 9 Verses to Cleveland. Mildraay, Earl of Westmorland 16 An Ode upon the Happy Return of Charles H. James Shirley ... ... ... ... 19 An Elegie upon the Death of Mrs. Katharine Philips. J.C. ... ... ... ... ... 26 An Elegy upon the Most Execrable Murther of Mr. Clun ... ... ... ... ... 30 On the Marriage of Sir John Denham. Edmund Waller ... ... ... ... 33 An Elegy upon the Death of Sir William Davenant 35 An Elegy upon that Incomparable Comedian Mr. Edward Angell. C. B. ... ... ... 38 An Elegie On the Death of that Incomparable Poet Robert Wild, D.D. ... ... ... 40 A Prologue . . . and Epilogue by Mrs. Behn to her new play, " Like Father, like Son, or The Mistaken Brothers" An Elegy on that Worthy and Famous Actor, Mr, Charles Hart An Elegy in Commemoration of Madam Ellenor Gwinn ... An Elegy upon Lhe Death of Mrs. A. Behu 43 47 50 53 vii PKEFATOBY NOTE. Though serious considerations are no doubt out of place upon a frivolous occasion, I cannot refrain from saying that it is a sense, deepening with age, of the vicissitudo rerum that has prompted me to print this collection. The materials of it have been derived partly from MSS., and partly from printed copies which have survived in such small numbers that their continued existence must be precarious. I have chosen pieces which for various reasons, some of them referred to later, seemed to me worthy of an attempt to preserve them. I trust, however, that no one will think I am arrogating to myself the role of ' feu No6 ' : I am under no sort of delusion as to the value or importance of the contents of this ark, and if they had all perished like those optimists who in the days of the Patriarch are said to have put their trust in umbrellas, I concede at once that the greatest happiness of the greatest number would not have been affected. But this does not entirely conclude the matter. I have walked a great deal in the by-paths of seventeenth-century English verse, aided and abetted for many years by my old friend Bertram Dobell and, since his death, by his sons,^ and on my way I have met with a number of harmless persons — " poetical antiquaries " they would have been called a hundred years ago — to whom trifles such as these have seemed of interest : to them and their like this little book is offered. To readers of this class, to some of whom, as bibliographers, the letter may occasionally be as interesting as the spirit, an editor ' The originals of all the pieces here printed have passed through the hands of Messrs. Dobell into mine. VIU owes, in my view, a duty to leave the texts as he finds them, and, in strict observance of this rule, I have abstained from any attempt to correct apparent mistakes of my authors or even quite obvious mis-prints, I have thus afforded ground for Aubrey's censure of Waller's spelling and preserved, among others, the particularly quaint word " hyemspear." Irrelevant notes have always appealed to me : I have inserted several in the following pages. G. Thorn-Drury. Preludium. An Elegie, no muse it askes a strayne To loose and capringe for thy stricter vayne. Thy thought did neuer melt in amorous fire Like glasse blowne up and fash'ond by desire The skill-full mischiefe of a Eouinge eye Could ne're make prise of thy white Chastitie. Then leaue these lighter Nombers to light Braynes In whome the fflame of euery Bewtye raignes Such as in lustes wylde fforest loue to range, Only pursuinge Constancie in Change. Let these in wanton feete daunce out their Soules A farther fury my raysd Spirite controles Which rapps me up to the true heauen of loue And coniures all my faculties t' approve The Glories of it. Now our Muse takes winge And now an Epode to deepe eares wee singe. [Printed for the first time from a 17th century MS. : it is apparently a first draft of Ben Jonson's Preludium to his Epode which appeared in " Love's Martyr " and subsequently in " The Forrest." Eeference to the ordinary printed text will show that, except as to the last line and a half, the two versions are entirely different.] To his bono f frend M'. Phillip INIassinger, having not had that iust applause for one of his playes w"*^ was due to him. Canst thou be troubled at the hissing croude ? tush : let them stretch theire neckes, and hisse as lowde At that w*^*^ doth transcend theire valuacon, as that w°^ is belowe, theire estimacon. The moone hath power to worke upon the mayne but is not wrought upon by that againe : Soe thou should 'st all new votes and passions swaye, but should' st not learne thy selfe howe to obey : What if the gallants like not ? what if bee w*=^ hath a Clearer iudgm* censure thee? haueing soe ponderous a masse of ffame, one grayne diminisht will not wronge thy name. That little stayne, that blur'd the rosy face of Cytherea, rather added grace then spoyl'd her beautie : yet it was a stayne and in a rude aspect had caus'd disdaine Soe that dislike w°^ may procure some scorne to meaner witts, may iustly thine adorne. Besides in sevrall workes of Poetrie 'tis not as 'tis in Nature Symetrie ffor if one play dislike, it doth not cast Dislike upon that play w'^^ pleased last If in a fragrant vineyard wee espie one whithered grape w*^** wants maturitie, Wee doe not blame the soyle, or els impute that small defect unto the Noble roote. Soe if the raptures of thy sacred muse take us not all alike, 'tis thy Excuse : Thy muse is still the same, and fortune maye in all things eether add or take awaye. Henerie Parker. [These lines are printed from a 17th century MS. I am sorry that I cannot identify the writer of them. Gifford, in his edition of Massinger's Works (2nd ed. I. Ixxi), says of his author, " It is not improbable, however, that he was now^ labouring under the pressure of more than usual want ; as the failure of two of his plays had damped his spirits, and materially checked the prosecution of his dramatic studies. No account of the unsuccessful pieces is come down to us : their names do not occur in the Office-book of Sir H. Herbert ; nor should we have known the circumstance, had not the Author, with a modesty which shames some of his contemporaries, and a deference to the judgment of the public, which becomes all who write for it, recorded the fact in the prologue to the Guardian." The prologue to Tlie Guardian (licensed Oct. 31, 1633) begins thus :— After twice putting forth to sea, his fame Shipwreck 'd in either, and his once-known name In two years silence buried, perhaps lost In the general opinion ;..... Our author weighs up anchors, and once more Resolves to prove his fortune : Fleay,- who is followed by Mr. Cruickshank,^ identifies the plays in question as The Et)iperor of the East and Believe as You List. Whichever be the true view, I think it is fairly safe to assume that these lines were written upon occasion of one of the failures to which Massinger alludes, and may therefore be dated, approximately, 1631.] U632-33.— G. T.-D. 2 " A Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama," 1891, I., 227. '■' " Philip Massinger," 1920, p. 4. [The Prologue and Songs between the Acts of Walter Montague's The Shepheard's Paradise. The Prologue.] Diana : What newes Apollo, from the Highest sphseres, The noyse is such, that it hath toucht my eares. Apollo : Happy Diana, whome the Gods agree Mistris of what they all doe long to see , The Beauty of this night : all knowing love Would have stole down arm'd w**^ the God of Love, But luno iealous, w*** more reason now Then e're before, would not this stealth allow ; This quarrell made the subiect of it knowne. Then every one of them would have come downe ; This equall envy keepes them all away, For none even to be left King, there would stay ; Soe now by this they all consented are. Each one to put himselfe into a starre : And thus in Gallantry each brings a light, And waites w*** it a servant to this night , They'le give the light & leave you to preside In vertue, but as you are Deifide ; This is resolv'd above, & I am sent Hither from all to make this complement. Diana : Heaven could have chose (Apollo) none soe fitt As you the God of Harmony & witt, luno did well, her husband would have seene A Paradise contain 'd in such a Queene : He might have own'd this as his propper place Alledging Heaven was truly in her face. And all the other Gods might have staid here, Where each one might have found a severall sphfere So lovely & soe heaven-resembling Eyes Might have made good their leaving of the skyes ; You will beleive your Eyes but 'twill distresse Even your divinest Eloquence to expresse. What you shall see, lets yeild now to their light W*'*' would have made me seeme but a cloud of night Let us together then now both retire. And ioy that wee are Gods, but to admire, The Song after the first Act. Victorious love though it hath gott the day Ashani'd of such a combat flyes away : And now doth arme it selfe with sacred fire To goe securely from all wilde desire. And innocence in this unhappy strife, Looseth her fortune, though she save her life. You have beheld two Lovers soe neare death. By parting, as you may feare more their breath. Can't last to bring them back to meete againe Then meeting it should cithers vertue staine, But the effects of Absence none can knowe, But they that curs'd are to have knowne it soe ; Ambitious love w*^ nature oft contends, And soe is often cros't as it ascends ; But in this contestation wee shall see Them strive like th' elements ; but to agree. And soe they will not frustrate cithers use But somewhat of each other thus produce. The Song after the second Act. Heere meritorious humblenes doth rise Up from a Pallace to a Paradice. And who would call it lesse, now they have seene The heavenly residence of a beauteous Queene. There is noe Eye that wonder leaves a voyce, That must not be the Adorer of his Choyce. For every one will see that shee alone Was beautyes Queene before she had a throne. Soe beautyes partial 'st servant must concurr She hath rais'd Beauty more then Beauty her. The only wonder this Choyce doth infuse Is that there could be such a one to chuse. The proofe of the strange vertue of this place To ease misfortune, 's not a comon case They that can find out nothing heare to please Have a misfortune, that deserves noe ease. The Song after the third Act. Here frighted Innocence for succour flyes : But is too bold in an averse disguise, To Beauty ; w*^^ she seemes to take soe ill : She sets herselfe to crosse her dearest will And soe w*'' all the power she can make Attempts from Innocence her right to take And doth succeed ; & yet the bless'd event Is such : as it keepes Beauty Innocent. Here is much weight & heavynes put on . 'Tis that there severall ioyes may match anon ; And soe each one at the appointed day, Will be the lighter when they throw 't away. Love seemes as yet declar'd all of one side, But by degrees he will him self e divide : And equally at last, both parts will take, And soe loose nothing yet all gainers make : The Song after the ffourth Act. Here love hath met w*'* such a temper'd heart, Hee's faine to leave his nature, & use Art ; To get admittance, w^*^ the soule Denyes, Arm'd at the Comon passage of the Eyes. Soe he in vertues service puts himselfe. And soe along by her gets in by stealth : Where he a servant still remaines disguis'd Knowne but as he in vertue is compriz'd. You have seene others beames shine soe direct They seeme by that the lesse heate to reflect, And you have seene in the appos'd extreame Love shine w^^out the emission of a beame. You have seene faith & beauty in the Lists, And faith some way excus'd as it resists. Nature at last shall leave off her disguise And soe both cleere, & iustefy all Eyes. [This Prologue and the so-called Songs, hitherto unprinted, are from a folio MS. of The Shepheard's Paradise, which is still in its original covers, with the green silk strings attached. It was once, according to an inscription on the fly-leaf, " The Lady Persalls Booke," and someone borrowed it " 9r ye 1st 1653 " : it probably is very nearly contemporary with the date of the production of the Comedy, as in the title-page of 1659 it is quaintly called, i.e., 8 Jan. 1633, when, after months of preparation, " the Queen's Majesty and Ladies of Honour," whose names appear in the printed edition, presented it before the King. Unhappily this performance came near to coinciding with the publication of Prynne's Histriomastix, in the Index to which " women actors " are given a compendious bad character, and these facts are thought to have contributed in no small degree to the passing of the savage sentence by which the author was condemned to be disbarred, to stand in the pillory at Westminster and Cheapside, to lose an ear at each place, to be fined £5,000 and to be imprisoned for life. ' Wat ' Montague is represented to have been a confident candidate for the Laurel at " A Session of the Poets," but he is at once disposed of by " witty Apollo's question if he understood his own Pastoral, and Patrick Carey, in his Trivial Poems of 1651 (ed. 1820, p. 14), asks, in the same spirit. But tell me pray, if ever you Eead th' English of W^att Montague, Isn't it more hard then French? When The Shepheard's Paradise came to be printed, in 1659, the stationer boldly declared " 'Tis known, these Papers have long slept, and are now rais'd to put on that immortality, which nothing has hitherto depriv'd them of, but their concealment " : a cautious friend of his, however, who I suspect knew his Suckling, addressed some verses to him upon his publication, in the course of which he said : — the learned and the wise Must needs be took with deep Philosophies And darke discourse : at least, good manners sayes. They first should understand it, e're dispraise. It is hoped that these Songs, which are by way of being comments on the text, may help to qualify the student to express an opinion. Later in life, Walter Montague forsook the ways of courtiers and writers of masques, and joined the Church of Eome, became a wealthy Abbot, and wrote Miscellanea Spiritualia or Devout Essayes (4to, 1648 and 1653). I found a heart-shaped " patch " between the leaves of my copy, so I suppose somebody else had once tried to read it.] A VALIANT MAETYR A SPIEITVALL COWARD A WEEPING CONVERT An acceptable SACRIFICE AND A HOVSE ON FIRE. By R. D. 11 TO the right Ho"/ WILLIAM Earle of Newcastle Viscount Mansfield Lord Boulsouer & Ogle. My honnour'd Lord. My retyred toemming houres, weare lately deliner'd of two births, a Valiant INIartyr, and a Spirituall Coward. Unto yo"" LoPP- (w^hom Natiue Noblenes, and mentall worthyness haue aboue many men so enabled to distinguish all men) I most humbly present them, eether to be kill'd in theire Cradle, or crown 'd by yo' Candor. I want both the forme and the flattery w^herewith custome hath habittuated Dedicationes, hauing Nothing more constant to my hope, then that Noblenes and iudgment, wherein yo'' LoPP- was pleased formerly to receaue, and accept mee. Circumstance seldom crownes. I humbly beseech yo'' LqP" honnour me to read them. More, as the humblest of my seruice to receaue them, Yo' praise, is Bayes, yo'' grace, a Garland. And my selfe The humblest of yo"" Lopp- honnourers Rob. : D'auenport. 12 A MARTYR Is a Diamond, and that in a double sence. The brightnes of his Patience, illuminates the darknes of his sufferings, and in his fiery tryall, he breakes before he bends. Hee is the most confident Duellist, for there is no scruple in his cause, yet crown 'd w*^ a strang glory, for his vanquishment is his victory. Hee smiles uppon his Shackle, and is so farr from supposing it a bondage to his Body, that he beleeues it a Loue- token, sent him from the Sweet-hart of his Soule. Hee comes forth of his Prison, like y® Bride-grome of y^ morning from his Pallace, And (being a Gyant in faith) reioyces to run his race. As he passes to the stake, they ieere him, he reioyces. If they aske him why, he patiently replyes The Disciple is not aboue his Master. The sight of the flaming Torch that is to fire the Pile, fires his affections, he begins to loue God more ardently and (w**^ Solomon) protests seriously. This is that Loue w^*" much water cannot quench ; he was neuer so familliar with holy flames, for his soule burnes before his Body. When he remembers that the fire must consume him, he forgetts not that of Dauid, The zeale of thyne house hath eaten mee, but quenches the terror of the thought with that truth of the Prophet, In the fire I will be with thee. They chayne his Body to the stake, and Loue lincks his soule to his sauiour, w'^'^ Loue, had long since so bound his life to a good behauiour, that as then, Obedience was no bondage, so now, restraynt is no torment. Suppose him (now) a Pilgrime, bound for the Holy-Land, or rather a rich Present, bound up for a great Prince, this superscription seeming written on his amiable face, To the King of Kinges. They fire the Pile, and his face changes ; oh the glory of the change ! for (comparing this beleeu'd honnour, with his owne suppos'd vnw^orthyness) faith at once beautifies his cheekes w*** modesty, and his eyes w*^ Maiesty, his whole countenance (like Stephens) converts from a Mans to an Angells. Thus changing, he falls asleepe, for dye hee does not. Hee lined heere in Grace, he Hues there in Glory, his life chang'd only in the Manner, not in the Matter ; So that yo" will find him certaynely aboue , in y® celestiall Liberary, a good Booke, w^ell translated, lust the same sence, put into purer language. 18 A Spirituall Coward. But what is he, so strutts in this large list y^ world ? This piiffe ? this daring Duellist ? Harke, how he throwes his threats! challenges three, y® World, y^ Flesh, y^ Diuell. Doe but see how loftily he lookes ! his active eye a vollume of assured victory. Will yo" obserue his weapons? ffirst, he brings against y^ World. Loue of celestiall things. To foyle the fHesh, (and for his owne defence) a sword, and buckler, Prayer and Abstinence. To quench the diuells fiery darts, he hath the exelent, well-temper'd sheild of Fayth. And yet, all theise but seeming. The World layes wealth in his Path, and by forbidden wayes he stoopes, and takes it ; his celestiall Loue converts, this starr-irreguler doth moue in an improper spheare, forsakes the trade of due pgression. and runnes retrograde. The fflesh assayles, and wounds his wanton eye with a loose Mistriss, he (chast sir!) thereby sottishly blinded, eas'ly can dispence ■^th Pfayer, and cast a wincke on Abstinence. The lyon comes, and roares ; the Diuell throwes but one Dart, cald Distrust, and straight, out goes all this braue champions holy heate, his sheild of fayth fayles, and lyes trampl'd on ith ffeild. What Nation might this boaster be of? Sure hee's an Ephramite, and nothing truer. Shew him his contry-men, 'twill serue as balme to his greene wounds ; The 70 and 8*^ psalme in y® 9*'' verse, presents them in theise wordes, The Ephrarnites being arm'd (having sharp swordes) and shooting in the bow (no armes they lacke) yet. In the day of battayle turned back. So this but seemer, only for a name Comes on with honnour, but goes off w^*" shame, 14 So in o^ Gods great battailes, oft we see, ' the bouldest boasters, frequent failers bee. Promise is due debt ; yet, in his braue fight. j ffayth is our promise, hut our payment — fflight. j A Weeping Convert, | A Sinner dropps a teare, A ffiye lights there, & sipps. Is questioned why \ Strang Trauuyler ! whence didst thou come ? and why dar'st thou to drinke th' affliction of mine eye? T'was not Loue wanton water, Nor let fall on sorrow^es more absurd then rationall. It was no Teare of anger, nor of joy. my reason still cald Passions teare a toy. It was no duty to the Dead , and why ? true sorrow weares not alivayes a wett eye. what was it then? Thou thirsty fflye, forbeare. It was a sad, true, penetentiall teare dropt on a late-comitted sin. It was the ieuell of mine eye eare it did pass. Oh how it deckt my face ! Even as it hung, heauen gaue th' applause, y^ very Angells sung. Away thou thing worse then a worme ! No more drinck sinners teares, least some blind soule adore thee as a Deity, or at the least saint thee for sipping Holy-water, ffeast no more foule ffeeder upon ffare so fine , For Sinners when they weepe, giue Angells wine. A Sacrifice. Hark! Did yo" not heare y® mournfuU cries of a new-slayne Sacrifize? Would yo" know what felt the smart? 15 'twas a broaken, bleeding Heart. Burning, pure, celestial! Loue, was the High-Preist, and borne aboue The sharp Law, that steeres o"^ Life, was the Sacrifizing Knife. The Alter, built of pretious stones secret sighes, true teares, deepe groanes, greeuious groanes, fetcht farr, and low, Such, as none but y^ Saints know. The Fire, pure Zeale, swift of winge like that which eate up Israelis Kiyig. Hayle holy flame ! my heart refine, purge it from dross, make it diuine Bathe it in that high-languag'd Blood w°^ out-speakes Ahells, in that flood refine, reforme it ; flixe it farr aboue my sinnes a shining starr. Take from it ffolly, giue it ffeare. Kill it heere, d crowne it there. [These pieces are now first printed from Davenport's autograph MS., which consists of nine leaves, 4to, including the front-cover : it is liberally adorned with rules, initials and occasional words in red ink, but before it was bound in the boards which Sir Thomas Phillipps favoured, the last leaf containing " A House on Fire " and the back -cover had disappeared. The late Mr. A. H. Bullen knew of its existence from its having appeared in Thorpe's MS. Catalogue, of the year 1836, but when he was editing Davenport in 1890 he was unable to discover its whereabouts. It was probably then lying submerged among the countless MSS. which Sir T. Phillipps had accumulated, for it reached me after one of the sales, in 1893, at which his collections were dispersed. As it will probably be some considerable time before there is another edition of Davenport's writings, I have thought it better not to omit the prose " Character." The Earl of Newcastle succeeded to the title of Baron Ogle upon the death of his mother in 1629, so that this dedication must have been written between that year and 27 Oct., 1643, when he was created Marquess : it is very like that addressed to Dr. lohn Oldesworth, before " A Survey Of The Sciences," which Mr. Bullen printed from a MS. preserved in the Cambridge University Library. (The Works of Robert Davenport, 1890, p. 319.) I am afraid I could not pray in aid what is here printed, if I were desirous of asking for some modification of my old friend's judgment of his author's poems, which he says (ihid. xvii.) ■" are couched in a quaintly sententious style that may be relished by a few curious palates, but is not likely to prove generally attractive."] 16 [Verses addressed to John Cleveland by the Earl of Westmorland. I.] To Cleueland before y^ first interuiew at Maneby. Though childing woemen may oft long for this Or that nor yeild a reason why it is Yet my desiers rank-wingd have hether flown That I to Cleiveland, He to me were known Whose raptures are soe elevate by art As y* each science in them hath its part Ihonson. And yet in Him not got w*^ anvile pain But flowing like a Torrent after rayne W^ euery one wher fancy credit getts Striues to procuer imbankt int' Eivelets T' imbellish his discource & make it thus To relish & come ofe facetious. Thers an owld Tale I did beleeu but talk That soules int' bodies Transmigrated walk On Earth again after they had been dead And from their proper carcass sequestred But since y* Eminency of strain I find In Thee I'm grown quite of an other mind For tis not one but all y* ere wore bayes Thou dost with thy Syraffick numbers rayse Thou buildst owld Koome again , & dost rehearse Her Antient Bards so famous were for verse Nay ; thou out bidst them w*^ thy genuine skill And bringst this He nearer Parnassus Hill Than Those ere dwelt , whilst y* Thy quil may owne To be a Pipe drawn from true Helicon, 17 I will not rack or torture w**^ delay The forward hopes I have put on to day To haue my wish but bootes & all put on I'le mount away to Stephen Anderson Whose Hospitable parts, noe other end Clayme but to be belou'd, & loue his frend W'^'^ doth soe well w*** Poesy agree That's house may seem Apolloes nurcery Wher Learning's cherisht & y® Arts reuiue Vnder his bounteous roofes prerogatiue For verses evermore delight to dwell With a free hart, yet in retired sell. [11.] To Him again in return for a letter he wrot upon y^ former. Not like y® bird whose bewteous train Being praisd is more displayd again. Nor of y* Academick witt Is raysd by Hunis to cherish it When (as it thriues) it must at best Have scrattching store to mak't a lest Would I appear : but Favours say They clayme acknowledgment for pay W*^** I heer offer to y® skan Of all great Arts Leviathan For now I shall no longer looke Whence Hobbs intiteled his booke Though surreptitious & by stealth Since thou'rt above all comonwealth Thy straines Monarkike, nor can bear Th' affront of a competitor Wher Science Liberall is who giues Not unto All prerogatiues Over y® Tongue & Pen but brings Those best deserue to be her Kings Yet what are such if left alone Nor Honerd by subiection 18 Whilst 't is y^ great' st alay to power When ther is noe inferiour And nothing soe much Luster spoyles In Diamonds as to want their foyles. [These two pieces are from a folio volume containing a considerable number of English and Latin verses by Mildmay Fane, second Earl of West- morland, written almost entirely in his own hand. His chief claim to recog- nition as a poet rests upon the volume, called " Otia Sacra," which he printed in 1648 : his own copy of it is now in my possession, and from the heading to some lines in his autograph upon one of the fly-leaves I am able to supply the date of his birth — Jan. 24 1601/2 — which has hitherto escaped all his biographers. The first piece is of interest, because it throws some little light on an obscure period of Cleveland's career, and because it called forth his letter to the Earl, which is to be found in the edition of his Poems published in 1656 and in most of those which succeeded it. Although it is thus easily accessible, those who have just read the Earl's lines ought not to be kept waiting to learn how they were received. " I shall not need hereafter to digest my conceptions," writes Cleveland, " I shall speak by instinct : for when you designed (sic — ? deigned) to visit me with your lofty Numbers, what was it else but to make me the Priest of your Lordships Oracle? Such is the strength of your fancy, that methought.your Poems (like the richest wine) sent forth a steam at the opening. What flowed from your brain, fumed into mine : it was almost impossible to read your lines and he sober." ^ It has been seriously stated that Cleveland hastened his end by intemperance, provoked thereto by the contemptuous opinion of him and his verses expressed by the Scots General, Lesley, who could neither read nor write. This has always seemed, for various reasons, highly improbable, but it may be that the reaction set up by the Earl's approbation was too powerful to be resisted. Manby is a hamlet in the parish of Broughton, in Lincolnshire, where, as well as at Eyworth in Bedfordshire, was seated Sir Edmund Anderson, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, 1582-1605. The Stephen Anderson of the text was the second son of Sir Francis, the second son of the Judge : he became, by his wife, Catharine, daughter of Sir Edwin Sandys, the father of another Stephen, who was created a baronet, 13 July, 1664. It has always been supposed that Cleveland spent a great deal of his time between the date of the surrender of Newark and his retirement to Gray's Inn in the houses of various Royalists : Stephen Anderson's, at Manby, was apparently one of them. The second piece by its mention of Hobbes's " Leviathan," which was published in 1651, furnishes, perhaps, the approximate date of the Earl of Westmorland's intercourse with Cleveland. The reference in the fourth line is to the practice at both Universities of expressing approbation by humming. Numerous occasions upon which it was followed at Oxford are mentioned in " Wood's Life and Times " (Oxf. Hist Soc.)^ > The italics are mine.— G. T.-D. AN ODE UPON THE HAPPY EETUKN OF Kino- Charles II. TO HIS LANGVISHING NATIONS, May 29, 1660. By JAMES SHIRLEY, Gent. Composed into Musick by Dr. Coleman. Et capitiir mini7no Thuris Honor e Dens. LONDON, Printed 1660 ^1 21 To the King. And is there one Fanatique left, in wliose Degenerate Soul a thought can stray, And by the witchcraft of a cloud, oppose This Bright, so long expected, Day? Whence are these wild effects of Light, Emergent from our tedious night? Oh ! can it be, those life-creating beams, That warm the Earth, and gild our streams, Purging th' infected air, our eyes, and mind. Making even Moles themselves to see, should strike these poor men blind? II. It will convert an Atheist to a faith Of the Creation, no less strange. Will he believe our Chaos, when he hath Eead the Miracles of our change : In such a rout was all our Frame Of things, until the Fiat came ; Stoop, and lay down thy reason trifling man, From such account the world began. After a dark Abysse to shew his face. When natures, stifl'd in the deep, came gliding to their place. 2d III. But wonder cease, the Altars call to burn With thanks and vows ; what sacrifice Can be enough, great Prince, for your return, Who are the Joy of Hearts and Eyes? Our dutie's paid to him, that is The Spring of Your, and all our bliss : Let us to Loyal Monk some trophies bring, To whom, next God, we owe the King, | Our peace, & Princes; and may you think fit, ; Whilest on Your Head three Crowns, on his as many garlands sit. IV. I I iNiow welcome. Royal Sir, our bells impart, ) And piles of wood, but heat and noyse : \ Then take it from the language of a heart, I Whose crowd of wishes break into a voice ; ': And thus do upward fly. May all ' That pious men can think, or call 1 A blessing, wait and watch about your throne; | Live long our glorious King, and be your own 1 1 And when time, faint with years, points to the Biere, '' Find it no loss, to be in Heaven, and Charles the second there. i James Sherley (sic). j S8 TO THE PEOPLE. Welcome thou happy day, in which was born The pledge of all our Joy, the Prince, Welcome again the same white happy morn, Although sad thirty winters since ! And now I sing That Prince our King. The cure of all our wounds is He. Guns, every Bell, And Bone-fires tell His safe return, our Island round Nothing but Charles, King Charles resound. A joyful sight to see. The Major, and Train of Scarlet-Brethren ride To meet the King, next them we told Five hundred more, all in their plush and pride, And Chains, you may believe were gold. Conduits made fine Pist Claret wine. The Troops and Trumpets were hard by. Buff and gold lace As thick as grass Triumphant march, to and agen. Some gallant horse, some gallant men, A joyful sight to see. The Dutch at this strange turning of the stream Will be our Trouts another while, But King & Common-wealth's all one to them. So they may keep their Fishing still. Purchase and prey And Spawn at Sea : ^ But oh , the French that were so free ! Pardonne moy, Excuse their joy. The Exil'd Charles this day is come, Who may send all the Pedlars home. A joyful sight to see. The Irish, that in Usquebauh did pledge His Birth, their jolly tunes give ore, A Lord not now is master of a Hedge, Scarce bonny clabbor within door. But you that were No Rebel there May re-assume your merry glee, And change your tone Of Hone, oh Hone When you shall hear a voice proclaim Back to the Province whence you came A joyful sight to see. The Scots like honest men, Hosanna crie, \ They knew his Father mickle well, ] And say, God save the King ; Amen say I, I From such as have the trick to sell. 1 There are some few 1 That are true blew. l The Welsh with joy transported be, \ Plutter and Nails ] Pless Prince of Wales Who now is King, and pright as star | Ui:)on the top of Penmenmaure, \ A joyful sight to see. | But oh, the Landlord of the Rich Peru Is sayling with his golden Fleet, And in a sea, of pure Canary too. To land his Oar at Charles his feet. Rouse from your shade Dull men of Trade ! f6 The storms are laid, the seas are free, A peace with Spain Brings all again You shall like Grandes march in state And swim in Rios de la Plate, A joyful sight to see. That Hand that brought our best of Kings and Men , Now fix him in his Eoyal Throne, That Knaves may never preach him out agen , Nor us into Eebellion, 'Tis our turn now To Vote and Vow, And Justice cry our streets throughout. So, Charles, God bless, Queen, Dukes no less, And Monk, who has thrown off his Hood, And by his Prudence, without blood, Brought all these things about. FINIS. [These pieces, which escaped the diligent search of Dyce and have not, I believe, been noticed by any bibliographer since his day, are re-printed from the original tract, which consists of four leaves, small 4to. Towards the end of the 17th century Shirley was written of by Dryden, Oldham and others in terms of, one is apt to think undeserved, contempt : a little more in this vein would have amply justified his critics. The reference to Monk and his " Hood " was probably suggested by " The Eump Dockt," a broadside song (my copy is dated in MS. " January 26 1659 "), which begins : — Till it be understood What is under Monck's Hood The City dare not shew his horns :] 26 AN ELEGIE, Upon the Death of the most Incomparable, Mrs. KATHAEINE PHILIPS, The Glory of Her SEX. But stay refined Soul ! oh ! Why so fast ? Stop her you Clouds ; the World's in no such haste To be undone : 'Tis hardly break of day, And will She set so soon ; so soon away ? You bright Intelligences, doth she stay To hear your rowling Musique by the Way Set to her charming numbers ; Wherein she Distill'd the Quintessence of Poesie? Or doth she bayte at the Chrystalline Skye? We'l on the Wings of adoration flye And follow her, and leave this gloomy shade Which doth our sad Horizon thus invade ; Now She hath snatch 'd with her all Virtue's light. And left the World involv'd in endlesse Night. She, who in Tragique buskins drest the Stage, Taught Honour, Love, and Friendship to this Age; Is gone to act her Part in bright attire, With Scenes of Glory in th' Angeliq ; Quire. She Taught the World the sweet and peaceful Arts Of blending Souls, and of compounding hearts; Without th' ingredients of reserv'd intents, Hypocrisies, and windy complements. She taught a Way, and that a glorious one, Not how to gain , but be above a Throne : Self-conquest is more glory, than to ride 27 In Roman Triumphs, with JEmilian Pride. Her inward Pomp, through {sic) her Fleshy Shrowd Did Hke the Sun oft glitter thorough {sic) a Cloud. Her, Vertues were in Conversation drawn , And shew like Arras, through transparent Laun. But ah ! her Friends, that in her Bosom came, Lay wrapt in Spices, in a purer Flame Than that the Phoenix dyes in. Now she's gone ! Here, Plato! here's thy wish't for Vision ! When she put off her Clay, thou might' st have seen Vertue undrest, just like a Naked Queen. Thou would' st not then contemplate any more Thy Dusky vain Idea, nor would'st pore On such fictitious Bliss ; but here should 'st ply The summe of thy Divine Philosophy. But is she gone, said I? It cannot be ; She who espous'd all Immortality : But read her Lines, you'd think that such a Soul Could her Imperious Destiny controul : That so Sublime, so brave a Mind, could soon Vault o're that Fate, that rules below the Moon. Ah ! 't must not be ! Death vizards Humane Glory, And writes a period to the finest Story. This Prodigie of Nature now is gone, And left Us wrapt in Admiration, That she could dye ; as we're before to see That such Perfection in her Sex could be. As for her Name, let that b' inshrin'd above In some Bright Temple of Caelestial Love ; Whether our Winged Thoughts may often stray, As Soaring Pilgrims Adoration pay. And whilest her Sparkling Soul is Orb'd in Light, And reads her old Ideas in more bright And fair Impressions in th' JEtherial Mind, Than those brief Copies that she left behind : We will commit her ever Sacred Dust Not to the Marble's, but Apollo's Trust. And Poets Ghosts shall from Elizium come, To hear Bright Angels warble in her Tomb 28 Her high-born Songs ; which hence shall Envy fan ^ And soaring Fame shall be her Guardian. 1 Instead of Tapers, where shall ever burn | Th' inflamed Hearts of Lovers in her Urn. I And since our short-wing'd Pray'rs are come too late, f And she must bow to th' Tyranny of Fate ; | Her Noble Thoughts, that fixt on bravest Theams, j Shall vapour forth in Sublimated Streams | Of Honour; which Heroique Breasts shall draw, Whose Swords and Pens must give the World a Law. ,: Her Sacred Dust, calcin'd by Time, shall be \ The Kichest Filings of High Poesie, * And from her Brain, and Muses Tears, shall spring, { Posies for each chast Lovers Wedding Ring. | Her all disperst, at last shall meet in one, And shine a Glorious Constellation. By J. C. Her EPITAPH. ' A Sparkling Angel was of late I Toying with the Bands of Fate ; | He left the Quire, and came below, j And strove to walk Incognito. \ To write, and live, like us he try'd; I But when he saw that he was spy'd, He made the World believe he dy'd; And hid himself behind this Tomb, Which is Death's shady Dining-Room. 29 Another. All that the World could boast of, here is found Under this Tomb, so Mines run under Ground; Love, Honour, Friendship, and Sublimest Wit, Are here leapt off the Stage into the Pit. Fine Shews and Scenes they are, but vanish all When from Dark Clouds, Fate lets a Curtain fall. The Play is ended, and the Musique's done, The Curtain's here let fall, and she is gone. Let's often think of Death, which thus we see Can cloze up Natures rarest Harmony : Let's strive the Great Spectator most to please, And Angels then will give us Plaudite'a. [Eeprinted from the original broadside, a folio-leaf surrounded on three sides and partly divided by heavy black rules, with an arch-shaped block " of the same " at the top. Mrs. Philips, " the matchless Orinda," died 22 June, 1664, in her thirty- fourth year. Although it is here said of her that she " in tragique buskins drest the Stage," the only piece of hers which is known to have been played is " Pompey," a translation of Corneille's play, which was produced in Dublin in February, 1663. Anyone who is disposed to think these verses unduly extravagant, should look at those, by better known writers, which are prefixed to the first authorised edition (1667) of Orinda's Poems, and particularly at Cowley's : in his mind, too, Mrs. Philips, both in person and in her poems, was associated with heaven and its inhabitants, though, it must be confessed, he stops short of the angel incognito of the first Epitaph, and the ingenuous profanity of the second, with its divine spectator and angelic claque. If one did not distrust and dislike the practice of filling out initials with any names that fit them, it would be easy to suggest that this elegy is the production of John Crouch — it is certainly not beneath his level — but I prefer to acknowledge that I cannot identify J. C. In 1679 there appeared a small volume entitled " Female Poems. By Ephelia ; " this name has been said, I know not upon what grounds, to represent one Joan Philips. This Joan Philips Mr. Gosse' thinks may have been the daughter of Orinda — she had but one — who eventually married Mr. Lewis Wogan, a gentleman of Wales; but, happily for the credit of the family, Mrs. Wogan's name was Katherine, and the author of this book, who was alluded to by Eobert Gould as " Ephelia, poor ragged Jilt," must be sought elsewhere.] » Seventeenth Century Studies, 1883, p. 227 30 AN ! EGLEY UPON THE Most Execrable MURTHER of Mr. CLUN, On of the COMEDEANS of the THEATOR ROYAL, Who was Rob'd and most inhumanely Kill'd on Tuseday-night being the 2** of August, 1664, near Tatnam-Court, as he was Riding to his Country-house at Kentishtown. Mourn Royal Stage, your Poets pens implore, To cease to write, since Clun can be no more : Turn all your Sceans to black, and let them be, | The Emblimes of our cares ; Cluns Tragedy : Go hide your Tapestry, and Clothes of green. Act now on black, Clun will no more be seen. Be dumb you drolling wits, not sighing stand; For Comick Clun that dy'd by Tragick hand. Mirth learn to mourn, and banish all our Smiles, ii Since Clun has plaid the last of his Beguiles : j How can my pen bid thy last Rights adue, !i When I want words to set thy fames forth true ; ] 'Tis beyond Prose, or Art of humane Verse, ' Thy taking-Humours to their worth rehearse. ■> Dye all desire of seeing more the Stage, \ Now thou art dead, the Mirrour of our Age ; \ Eor in thy Action all our joyes were seen, ] Nor wert thou less to either King or Queen. \ Thou who in polished words, and Womans dress. Didst Lovers passions to the height express ; 31 The Humorous Lieutenant More of Venice. And made us weep, at seeming sorrow swell, To hear and see like truth a Fiction fell : Merry Devil And when we frown 'd at some prodigious birth, of Edmunton. Thou in a moment chang'd that Scean to mirth ; He7iry 4. Then Smug and Bessus, Faulstaff and the rout Broke from thy Lips, to make us face about : Blind in our haste, will Bessus run away? Yet in the mouth of danger get the day ; And thy Lieutenant in his Drink-mad -fight. To gain those Trophies which was but thy right. O ! but logo, when we think on thee, Not to applaud thy vice of Flattery ; Yet must that Part never in our thoughts dye, Since thou didst Act, not mean that Subtilty : Thou all of all, and only Actor he. That ere trode Stage in English Comedy. But Hellish Fiends, what Devil reign'd in you, To Eob and Murder him that fed you too ? Could not his Money your curst spleen abate, Without he fell a victive (sic) to your hate? What Execrations shall my pen indite. Against such Eogues that Eclips'd Chin our Light? Plagues worse then Egypts be your portion here, And may you never mount Heavens Hyemspear : Could I say more, or wish you worse T would, Therefore ile hold, for fear I wish you good. But Oh, black death, something Ile say of thee, For thou didst act among this treachery, And thy hand did seal our poor Clun's death, Who oft us pleas'd with (that you took) his breath : thou unkind and mortal foe to man. Who still art blind, yet checks all thou can. London, printed by Edward Crowch dwelling on Snow-hill. 32 [Eeprinted from the original folio-leaf, which is surrounded by heavy rules relieved by thin white lines. In addition to the parts indicated above, Walter Clun is said by Downes^ to have played Cacafogo in " Eule a Wife and have a Wife," but neither he nor Genest mentions the fact that he once appeared in female characters. According to Pepys,^ he also excelled in the part of Subtle in " The Alchemist." Pepys also provides the only information, outside this elegy, which I have been able to find about Clun's end, but his account is not so clear as could be wished. To begin with, he says that the murder was committed on Aug. 3, but as the elegist mentions correctly the day of the week, one is rather disposed to accept his date. Clun, it seems, had stayed in Town drinking with a lady friend, and on his way home was set upon, wounded in the arm, robbed, bound and laid in a ditch, where he died from loss of blood occasioned by his struggles to free himself. One of his assailants, " an Irish fellow," was taken. It is difficult to make out whether Pepys means to say that Clun was accompanied by the lady (that, by the way, is not exactly what he calls her), or had left her, or whether he (Pepys) was told how the murder was discovered, or the footpads that the actor was benighted.] ^ Roscius Anglicanus, ed. 1789, p. 12. 2 Diary, ed. Wheatley, IV. 208, viii. 297. 33 [On the Marriage of Sir John Denham. By Edmund Waller.] me thinks hir bewty should reuiue his quill The prospects fayrer then his Coopers hill Since he that mountain for pernassus tooke Why should he not for hellicon this brooke At once the poet for declining age has gott a stafEe & subject for his rage why should men wounder att this marrige thus The prouerb makes the lame man lecherous Wisely the nimph has made her choyse of one who can not after other bewtys runn Suppose he had nor foot nor t'other limbe he that can neither stand nor goe may swim 'Tis said he had the royal leaue to woe he that asks leaue of right should giue it too The cours of brookes no person should restrain Through seueral grounds they rowle into y® main Those streams of christall like the light & winde Enjoy' d may be but should not be confinde To be the wife of him w'^'^ downright halts both sets of virtue & excuses falts. [Printed, it is believed for the first time, from the original autograph MS. Aubrey says of Waller, " Yet notwithstanding his great witt and mastership in rhetorique, etc. he will oftentimes be guilty of mispelling (sic) in English. He writes a lamentably (bad) hand, as bad (as) the scratching of a hen." (" Brief Lives," ed. Clark, II. 277.) The poet's handwriting is not nearly so bad as the description would suggest, but I am afraid these lines afford some justification for the criticism of his spelling. Sir John Denham married Margaret, third daughter of Sir William Brooke, at Westminster Abbey on May 25, 166-5. He was then fifty years of age, but people believed, or affected to believe, that he was very much older : according D 34 to Grammont (Memoirs, ed. Goodwin, I. 173), he was seventy-nine, while Aubrey (" Brief Lives," I., 219) says that he was " ancient and limping." In early June of the following year Lady Denham was insisting upon public recognition as mistress of the Duke of York,' but these lines seem to lend colour to the idea that the intrigue had begun before her marriage.- On Jan. 6, 1667, she was dead, " not without suspicion of poison," and her husband, the Countess of Eochester, acting for and on behalf of the Duchess of York, and the Duchess herself were, each in turn, suspected or even accused of her murder. Eeaders of annotated editions of Grammont are familiar with the various suggestions which were made, some of which, later, found their way into print. The following direct accusation in an almost contemporaneous publication will be new to most people. In the year 1668 there appeared a* thin 8vo tract, entitled " "Vox & Lacrimae Anglorum : Or, The true English- mens Complaints, To their Representatives in Parliament. Humbly rendred to their serious Consideration at there (sic) next sitting February the 6th 1668." There is no place or printer's name, and the poem has been ascribed, impossibly, as I venture to think, to George Wither, but one ought to say that Mr. Pulham, who devoted much time to the study of Wither and his works, admitted it as his, and wrote in his own copy that he had never seen another. I have what is described on the title-page as " The second edition, with marginal remarks explaining the Historical Passages," in which, on p. 9. occurs the line Why second (q) Rosamond is made away? with the corresponding note " (q) Par amour to Henr. II., whom the Queen, finding in her laby- rinth, dispatched, as the Dutchess served Madam Denhan (sic) lately." It is not perhaps surprising that I am able to say of my book that I believe no one has ever heard of another copy. I cannot light on the proverb referred to in 1. 8, though the idea is sufficiently familiar : cf. " Pourquoy est ce que les boiteux sont plus salaces et luxurieux que ceux qui ont les jambes egales et entieres? " Sc. Dupleix, La Curiosite NatitreUe, 1625.] 1 Pepys. Diary, ed. Wheatley, V., 321. ^ See also Grammont. Memoirs, ed. Goodwin, I., 171, 35 AN ELEGY Upon the Death of S«. WILLIAM DAVENANT: // those Great Heroes of the Stage, whose Wit Swells to a wonder here, shall think it fit, When Poet Lawreat's dead, that he should ly Twelve days, or more without an Elegie : / that am less, presume to undertake, A short Memorial for their credits sake. Death in the shape of a thin Poet's come, To summon Davenant to Elyzium : Sent for by strict Express, for to appear Upon the Stage of Tempe's theatre. His Voice compleats the Chorus among those Who sing the Numbers they themselves compose, Now Davenant is arriv'd, the Fields and Plains Resound unto his Welcome, Lofty Strains. For every Poet there it shall be free To raise his Joy unto an Extasie. Imagine him encircled in a Sphere Of those Great Souls who once admired him here : First, Johnson doth demand a share in him, For both their Muses whip'd the Vice of time : Then Shakespear next a Brothers part doth claim. Because their quick Inventions were the same. Beaumont and Fletcher their Petitions joyn. This, for clear Style, that for his deep Design : Tom Randolph asks a Portion 'mongst the rest. Because they both were apt to break a Jest. Shirley and Massing er comes in for shares, For that his Language was refin'd as theirs : Laborious Hey wood, witty Brome, and Rowley, The learned Chapman, and ingenious Cowley. 56 Ask their proportions as they've gain'd applause, By well observing the Drammatick Laws : ; Last, Sir John SucMin saith his Title lies, Because they both (were Knights, and) writ concise. Thus the Experienc'd Davenant did ingross ^ A Soul of Wit divided among those, Whose pregnant Muses have, from age to age, i Fix'd swelling Glories on the English Stage. | A Mirrour of the World, that it might see j Virtues sweet looks, Vices deformity. | And all is in one moment gone, since now | The Lawrels snatch'd from mighty Davenant' s brow, i| For ever wither'd must neglected ly, | T' impale the head of Nights obscurity. But soft — yon black Chymsera sure doth bear The Muse of Davenant through the yielding air ; Through clouds of Melancholy she is brought, Clad in a weed of discomposed thought : A pendent brow hath hid her smiles, as if It were a sable Vail, and not a Grief : Her arms (without Bracelets of mirth) across : And thus she doeth bewail her Davenant's loss. " Engins of Fancie, crack, and now let loose " Spirits of Ignorance, that shall reduce " The World to its first chaos, that not one But shall drink Lethe 'stead of Helicon. Down with Parnassus, and thou Great Apollo, Patron of Arts, I need not wish thee follow This wrack of Time ; for when it shall be said With one poor moments breath that Davenant's dead Thou wilt resign that happy place, and leave Practise of Arts, and onely learn to grieve. See here Heroick Tragedie, hard fate ! None to assume her Crown or Eobe of state. Comedie wants a head, on which to place Her worthy Wreath of almost fading Bayes. Now thou (Great Soul) art gone, who shall maintain The Learned Issue of thy pregnant Brain ? Thy Lovers (now so different is their state) Are both Platonick and Unfortunate. 97 Thy Cruel Brothers smooth designs shall be Laid open to Times greater Cruelty. Now Ignorance is loose, it is a wonder If Madagascar do avoid a Plunder : Since Rhodes it self will be besieg'd again, Nor can great Numbers such a foe restrain. How canst thou hope that any should escape, When on thy Witts it will commit a rape? Since Davenant's dead, I can forget my birth, And in that rocky substance of the earth, I'll cut my passage deeper than the seas, And whisper something to th' Antipodes Shall raise Imagination to conceit, There are no Gods, but Poets Lawreai. The EPITAPH. Here lyes a Subject of Immortal praise, Who did from Phcebus hand receive his Bayes : Admir'd by all. envied alone by those Who for his Glories made themselves his foes : Such were his virtues that they could command A General Applause from every hand : His Exit then this on Kecord shall have, A Clap did usher Davenant to his Grave. FINIS. [Reprinted from the original folio-broadside, of which there is no copy in the British Museum. Sir William Davenant, who had succeeded Ben Jonson as Poet Laureate in 1637, died 7 April, 1668, and " was bury'd in Westininster- Abbey, near Mr. Chaucer's monument, our whole Company^ attending his funeral." " The Cruell Brother " was printed in 1630, " The Witts " and " The Platonick Lovers " in 1636, " Madagascar and other Poems " in 1637, " The Unfortunate Lovers " in 1643, and " The Siege of Rhodes," Part I., in 1656, Part II., in 1663. In case Davenant should ever be edited, it may be useful to point out that " Gondibert Vindicated " is the work of Edmund Gayton.] 1 i.e., of the Duke of York's Theatre — Downes, Roscius Anglicanus, ed. 1789, p. 40. 369; 38 AN ELEGY, Upon that Incomparable Comedian, Mr. EDWARD ANGELL. Written by C. B. Hang the Stage all in black ; this sable night Hath brought a deluge, caus'd an Angels flight. Before Creation, Heav'n lost an Angel thence; Our Stage's Angel hath made his Exit hence. His pregnant Actions of Transcendant Wit, Rung Peals of Mirth, in Gallery, Box, and Pit. He was the best of mimiques, and look's Degree Master of Art, in every Comedy. To hear his Mimick voyce, which did dispense Divertisement to all Spectators sense. | It fill'd 'em with amazement to behold. i What actions sprung from his corporeal mold. I His loss is felt at Court, where it does move 'I The Great Ones there, like the true Soul of Love. The City too bewails : And now in lieu i Of former Mirth, from them drop showers of Dew. 1 He was the Poets Darling, not one but wears | Clouds on his brow, his eyes flow seas of tears. j The Actors all, at Fate's so swift command, j Are turn'd some Ghosts ; others like Statues stand. j Who shall play Stephano now? your Tempest's gone, I To raise new Storms i' th' hearts of every one. ! Farewell Dufoy ; That Comical revenge. I That always pleasing Play, is now unhing'd. \ Adieu, dear Friskin: Unfort'nate Lovers weep. ; Your mirth is fled, and now i' th' Grave must sleep. : No more to Epsom; Physicians try your skills, ] \ i 39 Since Frihle now has ta'n his leave o' th' Wells. His parts too numerous were for Elegy, And Scenes too Comical to be express'd by me : Let best of Poets do't, it shall suffice I on thy Grave this Epitaph Incize : EPITAPH. Here lies Ned Angel, who rul'd as he thought fit, The English Stage of Comick, Mimick Wit. [Eeprinted from the original small-folio broadside, hitherto, I believe, quite unknown. Angel was originally an actor of female parts, and was a member of Rhodes's Company, which Davenant may be said to have taken over. He became later a " clown." This elegy adds to our knowledge of him, his Christian name and the facts that he succeeded Price in the part of Dufoy in The Comical Revenge, and played Stephano in The Tempest, by which may be understood Dryden's version of 1667, or Shadwell's operatic version of 1673, or perhaps both. Friskin and Fribble are characters in Davenant 's Unfortunate Lovers and Shadwell's Epsom Wells. It may be doubted if Angel was quite so much " the Poet's Darling " as C. B. would have one believe, for Mr. Montague Summers^ is of opinion that Mrs. Behn is speaking of him when, in the Epistle to the Reader before The Dutch Lover, after complaining that the play was " hugely injur'd in the Acting," she goes on to say — " My Dutch Lover spoke but little of what I intended for him, but supplied it with a great deal of idle stuff, which I was wholly unacquainted with until I heard it first from him ; so that Jack Pudding was us'd to do : which though I knew before, I gave him yet the Part, because I knew him so acceptable to most o' th' lighter Periwigs about the Town, and he indeed did vex me so, I could almost be angry : Yet but Reader, you remember, I suppose, a fusty piece of Latine that has past from hand to hand this thousand years they say (and how much longer I can't tell) in favour of the dead. I intended hiin a habit much more notably ridiculous, which if it ever be important was so here, for many of the Scenes in the three last Acts depended upon the mistakes of the Colonel for Haunce, which the ill-favour'd likeness of their Habits is supposed to cause." Mr. Summers's view is confirmed by the fact that Angel's name does not appear in any list of Dramatis Personae after 1G73 ; it is therefore perhaps permissible to consider this elegy as of that year.] The Works of Aphra Behn, 6 vols, 1915. See I., 220, 225. 40 AN ELEGIE On the Death of that Incomparable Poet EOBEKT WILD D.D. Who departed this Life August the 12th 1679. Ah ! who can hold ! that all men silent are When our great loss in him's beyond compare : He was the only Modern Man that writ Khime and good solid Sense ; not flashy Wit : He was jocose and serious : No man could Write so w^ell to please men and yet so good. His Aim and great Design was by his Verse To bring to life the unwieldy Universe, If possible : He coveted to win More Souls to God, than th' us'rer Bags of Sin, His Preaching, when he first was National, Was sound and learned, and well pleased all ; And since restrain'd he did continue still, Gravely advising men against all ill And persevering in his work, Gods will To make known to his people, whom he deem'd, Himself yet bound to succour, though it seem'd To some as if he thereby disesteem'd Humane Authority. But let such Dons, as thought him thus affected Eead all his Poems, w^hich, though now rejected. Do plainly shew no man more Loyal was ; Nor more bewray'd the Cheats o' th' Good Old Cause Than he, whose business was still to prevent Their cursed and unnatural intent Against their then Supreme and Nat'ral Lord, In whose Blood afterwards their hands they gor'd : Ah ! how much he this fatal Act deplor'd ! 41 None more rejoyc'd at our now Kings returning, Though he got by't, as London did by Burning. He bore his Losses cheerfully, for that He knew his Duty to his King, and what He could not turn with th' change o' th' times for ; Not . That he was prejudic'd 'gainst Government, But always was thereto obedient, As knowing 'twas of God for good to's sent. His Works do "illustrate his Worth, And his true Genius to the World set forth ; That him to praise, w^ho 'th such an Advocate Were to diminish, not sup'rerogate. I dare not speak more of him, having said What does but lessen him , and take from the dead Which is the extremest piece of Cruelty That e're was done by any man but me : But since this work was by none undertaken. That by his loss the World could better waken : First I herein my Zeal for him express, Though in a poor, sordid, and homely dress. The Saints cannot add to the Glory above, Nor set it out to th' full, yet Divine Love Accepts their Services, and them repays With an Eternal Crown of radiant Bays, More glorious far than the Suns high-noon Eayes. Then the world hereby has Intelligence Of's Fate, which brings them to a deeper sence Of Judgments that are nigh, and may them urge. Themselves in true Eepentance to immerge. Whereby impendent Judgments may be stay'd, If not remov'd ; wherein the Lord us aid To do't sincerely. And more I deem'd it my Duty, since none ^ Their Love to him in Elegy had shown, [ My self to sit down, and to write him one. j This charges the ungrateful men o' th' Town, Who to be thought Wits by his Works are grown, Now to lye still, and not their Debts to own. I'll say no more but this, now he is gone. a I do despair of ever finding one So mixt with Fansie and sound Judgment, as He our now much lamented Poet was. His EPITAPH. Here lies that learned, witty, grave, wise Wild, Who serv'd his God, King, Country, from a Child He hogled not in Times great alteration. But still was true, without Equivocation, To th' Kingly Government o' th' English Nation. He was a Loyal Presbyter, and this A Wonder almost past our credit is. FINIS. [Eeprinted from the original broadside, which is surrounded and divided by rules, and has a head-piece which seems to represent the effect of a violent explosion; bones, shovels and pick-axes are being hurled in all directions, while a winged hour-glass has just settled down on the top of a skull in their midst. Although there are many broadsides in the Luttrell Collection by and relating to Wild, this does not appear among them. According to the Dictionary of National Biography, Wild was buried at Oundle on 30 July, 1679, but the date given above as the date of his death is confirmed by an entry in Thoresby's Diary.' The statement that Wild, notwithstanding his loyalty, profited no more by the Eestoration than London by the Fire, is borne out by the fact that in 1662 he was ejected from his living at Aynhoe, under the provisions of the Act of Uniformity. Oldham followed Dryden in decrying Wild, as he had followed him in decrying Shirley, but it would be unjust to accept their contemptuous estimate of his poems. He had a keen sense of humour which would always have saved him from writing the preposterous nonsense which is to be found in some of Dryden 's plays, and it would have been well for Oldham if he had had half so good an ear. An attempt has been made to rob Wild of one of his most vigorous pieces, " The Cock-fight," and to transfer it to Taylor, the water-poet, or to Randolph; a distinct admission of Wild's authorship may be found in " Moon-shine : . . . Being an Answer to Dr. R. Wild's Letter, &c. and his Poetica Licentia, &c. . . ." 4to, 1672, p. 37, written by his antagonist Eachard.] ' Thoresby's Diary, ed. Hunter, I. 31 and note. 43 A PROLOGUE By Mrs. Behn to her New PLAY, CALLED Xifte ifatber, lifte Son, OR THE Mistaken Brothers, Spoken by Mrs. Butler. Lord what a House is here, how Thin 'tis grown ! As Church 'ere ConventicUng was put down : Since all the Brave are to Newmarket gone ! Declining States-men are abandon'd too, Who scarce a Heartless Whigg will Visit now : Who once had Crowds of Mutineers in Fashion, Fine drawn in Cullys of th' Association : Sparks, lustices and lurymen by Dozens, Whom his perverted late (sic : ? tale) betrays and Cozens. But change of Scene, having unvail'd their Cheats, Pensive State Puss alone, Majestick Sits; Purr's on his pointless Mischiefs, tho' in vain; Verses are all the Darlings of his Brain. So w^e who having Plotted long to please, With new Parts, new Cloathes, new Face, new Dress; To draw in all the yielding Hearts o' th' Town, His Highness comes and all our Hopes are gone. Ah Fickle Youth, what lasting Joys have we, W^hen Beauty thus is left for Loyalty ; I would to Heaven ye had been all Whiggs for me : Whilst Honest Tory Fools abroad do Roame, Whigg Lovers slay (sic: ? stay) and Plot, and Love at Home. 44 Nay one Advantage greater far than this, The Party helps to keep their Mistresses. The Devils it't (sic) if I'm not Fine and Vain, Whom publick Bank Contribute to maintain. 1 / Epilogue spoken by Mr. Gevan. And now Messiers, what do yoa say, Unto our Modern Conscientious Play? Nor Whigg, nor Tory here can take Offence, It Libels neither Patriot, Peer nor Prince. Nor Sheriff, nor Burgess, nor the Keverend Gown ; Faith Here's no Scandal worth Eight Hundred Pound, Our Damage is at most but Half a Crown. Only this Difference you must allow, That you receive th' Affront and pay us too ; Would some Body had manag'd matters so. Here's no Eeflection on Damn'd Witnesses, We scorn such out of Fashion things as these. They fail to be Belov'd, and fail to Please. No Salamanchian Doctorship's Abus'd, Nor a Malitious State'man here Accus'd. Tho' here are Fools of every Fashion, Except State Fools, the Fools of Eeformation. And these Originals decline so fast, We shall have none to Copy by at last. There's Joe and Jack a pair of Whining Fools And Leigh and I, Dull. Lavish, Creeping Tools Bowman's for Mischief all, and carry's on With Faun and Sneer as Gilting Whigg has done. But like theirs too, his Projects are o'r thrown. Sweet Mistris Corall here has lost her Lover, Pshaw English or Irish ground shall find another. Poor Madam Butler too, are you defeated, To Mrs. Butkr. You never were before so basely Cheated. Here Mistris Betty, Hah ! she's grown a very Woman, Thou'st got me Child, better me than no man. Here's Blundering Richards is my Huffing Esquire, Damn me, the best in England's for't, d'e hear. Is that your Cue come nearer, Faith thy Face r Pointing at -^Mr (.Mr. Williams, Wiltshire. 45 Has Features not unlike Joe Hains's Grace. Impudence assist thee, and boldly try To speak for us, and for the Comedy. Mr. Eichards Speaks. I'le do't Gallants, I'le Justify this Play ; Od zoons 'tis Good, and if you lik'd (sic) you may. London, Printed for J. F., 1682. [Reprinted from the original small-folio leaf which is printed on both sides. Although there is, apparently, another copy of it in the Chetham Collection, it has altogether escaped notice. Students of the stage-history of the period were aware that Mrs. Behn had written an Epilogue for what was thought to have been a revival of Randolph's " Jealous Lovers," in 1682. The leaf, now reproduced, shows that it was an alteration, under a new title, supplies the names of some of the actors, and also enables us to date the performance with some approach to exactness. Upon the first two points it speaks for itself. The following facts seem to warrant one in fixing the date of the production as of some day between 11th and 25th March. The Court left Wliitehall for Newmarket 4th March 1682 ' : the Duke of York arrived at Yarmouth 10th March, and left on the following day for Newmarket, whither most of the nobility resorted to pay their respects to him ^ ; the reference in the sixth line of the Epilogue is to the action in which Mr. Bolsworth was the Plaintiff and Mr. Pilkington, one of the Sheriffs of London, the Defendant, and which was tried in March, before the 25th of the month, at the Surrey Assizes held at Southwark : the Plaintiff complained that the Defendant had said of him, " You are a broken fellow, goe home and pay your debts, and altho' he could not prove he had any damage thereby, and the defendant proved the plaintiff first very rudely provok'd him; yet the jury, to the astonishment of most, brought in 8001. damages for the plaintiff.^" One regrets to add that the defendant's appli- cation for a new trial was unsuccessful, and he was compelled by execution to pay the money. It seems unnecessary to say anything about the players, except to indicate that "Mr. Gevan " is " Jevon " (just as " Gilting'" should be "Jilting Whigg "), and " Sweet Mistris " Corall is Mrs. Currer. I should be glad to be able to identify " Mistris Betty." The Epilogue to " The Jealous Lovers," although itself defective, clears up some points in that which appears on the single-sheet, so I have decided to reprint it here. 1 Luttrell : Brief Relation, I. , 168. ^ 75,-^ m 46 Epilogue v.; To the V. Jealous Lovers. i By Mrs. Behn, in 1682. And how, and how Mesieurs 1 what do you say To our good moderate, Conscientious Play? Not Whig, nor Tory, here can take Offence ; It Libels neither Patriot, Peer, nor Prince. Nor Shrieve, nor Burgess, nor the Eeverend Gown, \ Faith here's no scandal worth eight hundred pound; V Your Damage is at most but half a Crown : J Only this difference you must allow, "j 'Tis you receive th' Affront and pay us too, V Wou'd Rebell Wabd had manag'd matters so. j Here's no Reflections on Damn'd Witnesses, We scorn such out-of-Fashion'd-things as these; They fail to be believ'd, and fail to please. No Salamanca Doctor-ship abus'd. Nor a Malicious States-man here accus'd ; No Smutty Scenes, no intrigues up Stairs, That make your City wives in Love with Players. But here are fools of every sort and Fashion, | Except State-Fools, the Tools of Reformation, \ Or Cullys of the Court-Association. J And those Originals decline so fast. We shall have none to Copy by at last ; Here's Jo, and Jack a pair of whining Fools. And Ligh and I brisk Lavish keeping Fools (sic). He's for mischief all, and carry's it on With Fajwne and Sneere, as Jilting Whigg has done. And like theirs too his Projects are o'rethrown. Miscellany, Being A Collection Of Poems By several Hands . . . 1685 (8vo). p. 263. 47 AN ELEGY On that Worthy and Famous Actor, Mr. CHARLES HART, Who departed this Life Thursday August the 18th, 1683. Can Hart be dead, and yet neglected lie, Like vulgar Trophies of Mortality, Nor have His Name shrin'd in an Elegy ? Hence Modern Wits, Apollo's Bastard-hrood ; If not for Him, mourn your Ingratitude. You oft have Verse on meaner Subjects made ; None shou'd give Presents, and leave Debts unpaid. Unthankful Tribe ! how can ye silent be. And let His Fame earth with his Corps, when He Gave both your Works and You Eternity. Thus lighted Tapers round their Flames do cast, And but for Others Good, Themselves they waste. Pardon, bright Saint, if now my weaker Verse Appear in sighing o'r Thy Glorious Herse, To chide bold Death, and our vast Loss bewail ; Our Loss, which nought on Earth can countervail : For where's a Name like Hart, that has the Pow'r. Can force all eyes t' a Tributary Show'r? Whose Sins begot no Libels, whom the Poor For Benefit, the Rich for Worth adore; Who liv'd a Phoenix, who Himself deny'd. And to warm Passion a cold Martyr dy'd. 48 Sure He's not dead? Such were His looks, when He Wou'd counterfeit a Death in Tragedy. But, ah ! He's gone too sure ; Cold is His Brow, And th' busie Pulse for ever's idle now ; His Tongue, which late such Melody did arm, As could to Extasie the Hearers charm ; Whose Sweetness (as we thought) might Fate o'rcome, And make him change his Rigour, now is dumb. Silent as Sleep He lies. His latest Breath Life's Epilogue spoke, and all is still as Death. Farewel ! Thou Darling of Melpomene ; The Best but Imitate, None Equal Thee; With Thee the Glory of the Stage is fled. The Heroe, Lover, both with Hart lie dead : Of whom all speak, when of His Parts they tell. Not as of Man, but some great Miracle. Such Pow'r He had o'r the Spectators gain'd. As forc'd a Real Passion from a Feign'd. For when they saw Amintor bleed , strait all The House, for every Drop, a Tear let fall ; And when Arbaces wept by sympathy, A flowing Tide of Wo gush'd from each Eyo. Then , when he would our easie Griefs beguile Or Celadon or Perez made us smile : Thus our Affections He or Rais'd, or Lay'd, Mirth, Grief and Love by wondrous Art He sway'd. Let no detracting Tongue dare wound his Fame, Nor the Precise 'gainst Actors more exclaim, Hart has restor'd their Credit, grac'd their Name, His Life the Stage instructed, and now dead. We're taught by Him the Worlds gay Stage to tread. Oh ha]5py me ! in such a Time brought forth . As to behold such Goodness, and such Worth. All that was Excellent we in Him might see, Servant to Justice, and strict Honesty ; So Pure each Scene of's Life was, scarce we can Find Vice enough, to say He was but Man. 49 His unexampl'd Virtues have no end, He was a Loyal Subject, Faithful Friend : Mans Favourite, and th' Ahnighties was He too, Each hour His Alms and Pray'rs did Heav'n pursue, Secur'd of which bright Mansion, hence he flew. And now, shou'd I aspire each Grace to Praise, A Work t' astonish Wonder I must raise But oh, blest Soul ! since great our Loss appears. Permit me bath Thy Memory in Tears ; For Thy surviving Fame can never die, Confin'd to nothing but Eternity. While Thy blest Life & Death to th' Best give Laws, And each this certain Truth from Envy draws, Haet ne'r made Exit yet without Applause. Printed by Nath. Thompson, at the Entrance into the Old- Spring -Garden near Charing -Cross, 1683. [Thi3 is reprinted from the original broadside, of which, except that in the Luttrell Collection in the British Museum, I believe no other copy has survived. It is constantly stated that Hart was a relative of Shakespeare, but it is difficult to suppose that there would not have been many contemporary refer- ences to this relationship, if it had existed, and none has yet been found. Amintor, Arbaces and Perez are characters in the Beaumont and Fletcher plays. The Maid's Tragedy. A King and No King, and Rule a Wife and have a Wife : Celadon is in Dryden's Secret Love. This broadside is the only source of information for the date of Hart's death: according to Genest (I., 375) he was buried at Stanmore Magna on Aug. 20th.] .-J 50 i AN ELEGY In Commemoration of Madam EUenor Gwinn, Who DeiDarted this Life on the 14th of November, Anno Bom. 1687, Must She thus Die, has an Eternal Sleep, Seiz'd each Great Muse, that ail sad Silence keep? Not to be Wak'd ath' {sic) Melancholy Sound That Spreads it self, enlarging all around. And does our Hearts with Grief and Wonder Wound ; , To Death's Embraces must She Yield and Lie l Embalm'd in Dust, without an ELEGY ; No, rather let me come with Tribute Verse, And Strow some Mournful Cyprus on her Hearse : Admit me as a Cipher here to come, Who, though am {sic) Nothing, yet can raise a Sum. Speak then my Muse, and Speak in such a Strain, As may fit Audience from the World obtain. Speak, though like Grief her self, when Clad in Woe, To Melancholy Seats She basts, which Flow With Floods of Tears, are hung with Weeping Eyes, And Seal'd with Sighs and Groans that thither Else, \ \ Whilst Loud Laments break through and Storm the Skies ; Tell that a Glorious Beauty is w4th drawn To Silent Seats of Everlasting Dawn, Cropt like a Gay Flower by some Rude Hand , Or like a Blossom by the North Winds Fan'd ; As quick, as if her Fate had been in haste. She's set in Death, She upon whom were plac'd The willing Eyes of Numbers She Releiv'd, 51 Cou'd not from Deatli be by their Prayers Repreiv'd. Inexorable Death no Bribe cou'd stay The Witty, Rich, and Beauteous must Obey, When by him Summon 'd to Eternal Day : Yet, let's not think her Dead, who ne'r shall Die, Till Times ingulf'd in vast Eternity. 'Tis but her Shaddow that we now have lost ; She left but this for a more during Coast, And is but Freed from Troubles that were hurl'd, Like moving Storms upon the Restless World. We all must go, though all not at a time, Some Age befriends, some snatch 'd are in their Prime. Mankind was Dust, and must be Dust again, And all must Die, though none knows where nor when ; So have I seen an unfix 'd Star Remain, A Time with Brightness, 'mongst the Numerous Train Of Glittering Fires, when darting suddainly. It left its Sphere no more to Light the Skie : But some may Cast Objections in, and say These scatter' d Praises that we seek to lay Upon her Hearse , are but the formal Way : Yet, when we tell them She was free from Strife, Curteous even to the Poor, no Pride of Life E're Entertaining, but did much Abound In Charity, and for it was Renown' d. Not seeking Praises (sic), but did vain Praise dispise. And at her Alms was heard no Trumpets Noise, And how again, we let them further see, That She refus'd and hated Flattery ; And far from her Dissemblers did Command. We may have Hopes her Fame for this may stand. However, let the softer Beautys come, And bring their Wreaths of Flowers to Deck her Tomb ; Mix'd with the Mournful Ciperus and Yew, Weep that the Witty and the Gay withdrew. Leaving the World so soon, let all the Train Of those that Fed upon her Bounty Drain Their full Eyes, and of Death's Cruelty Complain, That he by not permitting her to stay, 53 Took that sad Hour, their Maintenance away. Let all those that She has advanc'd appear, And in their Eyes, their Silent Sorrow wear; Till every mourner for a time, become Sad as her Fate, and like her Lifeless Body Dumb. EPITAPH. If Beauty, Wit, or Friends had power to save Alive, what this Tornh does from Death Receive, It had not yet been here; yet Reader, spare Not on this Dust, to drop a Friendly Tear. 'Tis only Dust lies cover' d in this Tomb, Her Fame and Soul Employ a larger Room. WITH ALLOWANCE. LONDON, Printed by D. Mallet, next Door to the Sign of the Star, between Fleet Bridge and Bridewell-Bridge, 1687. [Reprinted from a folio broadside, the upper part of which is ornamented by a particularly repulsive skull, cross-bones, winged hour-glass, pick-axes and spades. There is, as far as I know, no record of it in any bibliography, and it seems also to have eluded Cunningham and his annotators. I am afraid it must be confessed that these lines, like some others in this collection, owe their interest very much more to their subject than to their treatment of it, but it is pleasant to have other contemporary testimony to the wit, good temper and charity of Nell Gwyn. It is a curious fact that at one time considerable doubt existed as to the date of her death : " Granger says she died in 1687 — others say in 1691 " — (Genest, I., 384.) In Wewitzer's " Dramatic Chronology," 1817, the very day — March 14 — in 1691 is actually stated. This broadside confirms that given by Luttrell (" Brief Eelation," I., 420), which is now generally accepted.] 5^ AN ELEGY UPON The Death of Mrs. A. BEHN ; The Incomparable Astrba. B^ a ^owm Xat>^ of (Slualit^. Summon the Earth (the fair Astrea's gone), And let through every Angle fly, Till it has fiU'd the mighty Bound, And thence arise to the expanded Sky, In Murmurs for the misery done. To see if Heaven, Heaven will our Grief supply, With Tears enough to mourn her Destiny. Assemble all the Crowds below, You that Obedience to the Muses owe. And teach the Sighing Maids to mourn. With unbound Hair, and flowing Tears, In Strains as moving as her Numbers were. The mighty Desolation, mighty Woe. Teach them in Charming Accents, such as once She did the list'ning Crowds inform. When high as Heaven her Praise was born, And taught the Angels to rejoyce, In sweeter, truer Numbers than before, In all their bright Seraphick Store, Had ever tun'd their Heavenly Voice : And thus prepar'd, let them the Loss deplore. The charming wise Astrea is no more. 1 54 II. What have we done? What have our Crimes deserv'd? Why this injurious Eape? I The World is Widdow'd now, ,: And Desolation every where ; With dismal Groans invades the Air ; ^ My sullen Muse, that ne're before ,' The sacred Title wore, ? Untaught, unpractis'd, has preferred > (For none from Mourning can escape) : In uneven Strains, and much below All but my Grief, To tell the World their Universal Woe, Which ne're can hope Relief : 'Tis an implacable Decree, That Languishments, Diseases, Death, ; Must attend all that live on Earth, 1 Cannot those Hours we here possess, j From Fate, and those attendant Ills, be free, i That ravish hence our Happiness, i But in Diseases, Murmurs. Strife, ' Made pass away our hasty Life? i When if it uncontroul'd did bloom, i Exempt from Anguishes or Fears, j Who then would offer up their Tears. I To see their beck'ning Fate were come I After a Life supinely run? But now in Pain that ling'ring Span must waste, ; Which Sighing terminates in Death at last, I And Kills with us the sense of Danger past. i ! -1 III. ; Can no distinction here be own'd? \ Must Death for ever stand thus arm'd, j To snatch a Soul Divinely form'd? j Must that then Triumph over all? Give all below a Fatal Wound, 66 Then urge it is but Natural ? Ah ! how inglorious is our Fate, How rigid, and how desperate? We're flattered with the pleasing Tale ; In us the form of Gods are seen ; Fond Ignorance, for they are all Divine, Exempt from all we fear : Nor can their Beings ever fail. As those that wander here. Hence then, thou false receiv'd Belief, begone. And let us see, we're like our selves alone. IV. Who now of all the inspired Eace, Shall take Orinda's Place? Or who the Hero's Fame shall raise? Who now shall fill the Vacant Throne ? The bright Astrea's gone, V. And with her all that heavenly Wit, And charming Wonders of her Face, On which with more we gaz'd, And claim'd a Title to our Praise. The Graces too have made their flight, All to inglorious Fate submit : To Fate, which draws us to that nearer sight Of Death, and everlasting Night, Where Silence her chief Empire sways, And hurls a gloomy Shade around The hollow unexhausted Ground, Which all Eeturn denies : For when the sick'ning Soul decays. Languishes, sighs and dyes. She bids an everlasting long Adieu To all the World, and all she valu'd too. . 56 Let all our Hopes despair and dye, :; Our Sex for ever shall neglected lye ; ;: Aspiring Man has now regain'd the Sway, j To them we've lost the Dismal Day : [ Astrea an equal Ballance held, | (Tho' she deserv'd it all ;) § But now the rich inheritance must fall ; To them with Grief we yeild The Glorious envy'd Field. Of her own Sex, not one is found Who dares her Laurel wear, | Withheld by Impotence or Fear ; \ With her it withers on the Ground, ' ? Untouch'd, and cold as she, i And Keverenc'd to that degree, I That none will dare to save ; The Sacred Eelick from the Grave ; ' Intomb'd with her, and never to return, Fills up the narrow Urn, Which more Presumption, or more Courage has than we. '. VII. In Love she had the softest sense ; And had her Virtue been as great. In Heaven she'd fill'd the foremost Seat. This failure, or she had Immortal been, ! And free as Angels are from Sin ; 'Twas pity that she practis'd what she taught ; , Her Muse was of the bolder Sex ; , Such Mysteries of Love she did dispence, Such moving natural Eloquence, I Ab made her too much Wit her fault. I Her ever-loyal Muse took no pretext, | To discommend what once it prais'd ; ] And what has most her Glory rais'd. j Her Royal Master she has follow'd home, 1 Nor would endure the World when he had lost his Throne. I 67 VIII. Hail ! the Elizian Shades, and bright Orinda, hail ! They now much happier are than we ; Their Triumphs are but now begun ; What we have lost, the Shades have won : Her Presence makes their Harmony, For ever we must disagree. See then, and do not fail. To entertain the welcom Guest. And sing her Praise above the rest. For she deserves the Triumph best. Meet her, ye Amorous Lovers, and Adore Her Shade, before The Nymphs for whom you Fetters wore. Her Care was most for you, For still she gave to Sacred Love its due, Reveal 'd more Mysteries than Ovid knew : Joyn all the Glorious Shades, and sing Astrea's Praise, Whilst her unhappy Monument we raise. FINIS. Apr. 22, 1689. This may be Printed. ROB. MIDGLEY. London, Printed by E. J. 1689. [Eeprinted from the original broadside, of which no mention has been found. Aphra Behn died April 16, 1689, and on April 20 was buried in the East Cloister of Westminster Abbey, where the stone covering her grave may still be seen. The inscription upon it, as originally cut, was Here lies a Proof that Wit can never be Defence enough against Mortality. And so it remained until, at some date between 1723 and 1747, one Mr. Thomas Waine, to use what I suppose were his own words, " In respect of so bright a genius," revived it, causing the above couplet to be re-cut, and adding, or perhaps leaving the stone-mason to add. Great Poetess, thy stupendous lays The world admires, and the Muses praise. Shortly before the publication of Col. Chester's " Westminster Abbey Registers " in 1876, the inscription again needed attention, when the original couplet only was reproduced. Many people, one supposes, might be reproached for not exemplifying their doctrine in their own lives ; poor Aphra is perhaps singular in having provoked her elegist to regret " that she practis'd what she taught," but, as she herself has said (see p. 39 ante) " Eeader, you remember, I suppose, a fusty piece of Latine ... in favour of the dead."] raoiEio'raciHioTaoiEicjHioVEio fe Printed by Robert Stookwell, Baden Place, Borough, S.E.I. El , ,. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY This book is DUE on the last date stamped below AUG 1 4 1957 ^ MAR 2 419611 f!t^^ \S> ySf^