for his Disloyalty,
_Robert Greene_.
In a Comedy called _Green's Tu quoque_, written by _John Cooke_, I find
these Verses made upon his Death;
How fast bleak Autumn changeth _Flora_'s Die;
What yesterday was _Greene_, now's sear and dry.
* * * * *
_THOMAS NASH_.
_Thomas Nash_ was also a Gentleman born, and bred up in the University
of _Cambridge_; a man of a quick apprehension and Satyrick Pen: One of
his first Books he wrote was entituled _Pierce Penniless his
Supplication to the Devil_, wherein he had some Reflections upon the
Parentage of Dr. _Harvey_, his Father being a Rope-maker of
_Saffron-Walden_: This begot high Contests betwixt the Doctor and him,
so that it became to be a well known Pen-Combate. Amongst other Books
which Mr. _Nash_ wrote against him, one was entituled, _Have with ye
to_ Saffron-Walden; and another called _Four Letters confuted_; in
which last he concludes with this Sonnet;
Were there no Wars, poor men should have no Peace;
Uncessant Wars with Wasps and Drones I cry:
He that begins oft knows not how to cease;
He hath begun; He follow till I die.
Ile hear no Truce, Wrong gets no Grave in me:
Abuse pell-mell encounter with abuse;
Write he again, Ile write eternally;
Who feeds Revenge, hath found an endless Muse.
If Death ere made his black Dart of a Pen,
My Pen his special Bayly shall become:
Somewhat Ile be reputed of 'mongst men,
By striking of this Dunce or dead or dumb:
Await the World the Tragedy of Wrath,
What next I paint shall tread no common Path.
It seems he had a Poetical Purse as well as a Poetical Brain, being
much straightned in the Gifts of Fortune; as he exclaims in his _Pierce
Penniless_.
Why is't damnation to despair and die,
When Life is my true happiness disease?
My Soul, my Soul, thy Safety makes me fly
The faulty Means that might my Pain appease.
Divines and dying men may talk of Hell,
But in my Heart her several Torments dwell.
Ah worthless Wit, to train me to this Wo!
Deceitful Arts that nourish _Discontent_,
Ill thrive the Folly that bewitch'd me so!
Vain Thoughts adieu; for now I will repent:
And yet my Wants persuade me to proceed,
Since none takes pity of a Scholar's need.
Forgive me, God, although I curse my Birth,
And ban the Ayr wherein I breath a wretch,
Since Misery hath daunted all my Mirth,
And I am quite undone through Promise breach.
Oh Friends! no Friends, that then ungently frown,
When changing Fortune calls us headlong down.
Without redress complains my careless Verse,
And _Midas_ ears relent not at my mone;
In some far Land will I my griefs rehearse,
'Mongst them that will be mov'd, when I shall grone.
_England_ adieu, the Soil that brought me forth;
Adieu unkind, where Skill is nothing worth.
He wrote moreover a witty Poem, entituled, _The White Herring and the
Red_; and two Comedies, the one called _Summer's last Will and
Testament_, and _See me and see me not_.
* * * * *
Sir _PHILIP SIDNEY_.
Sir _Philip Sidney_, the glory of the _English_ Nation in his time, and
pattern of true Nobility, in whom the Graces and Muses had their
domestical habitations, equally addicted both to Arts and Arms, though
more fortunate in the one than in the other. Son to Sir _Henry Sidney_,
thrice Lord Deputy of _Ireland_, and Sisters Son to _Robert_ Earl of
_Leicester_; Bred in _Christ_'s Church in _Oxford_, (_Cambridge_ being
nevertheless so happy to have a Colledge of his name) where he so
profited in the Arts and Liberal Sciences, that after an incredible
proficiency in all the Species of Learning, he left the Academical
Life, for that of the Court, invited thither by his Uncle, the Earl of
_Leicester_, that great Favourite of Queen _Elizabeth_. Here he so
profited, that he became the glorious Star of his Family, a lively
Pattern of Vertue, and the lovely Joy of all the learned sort. These
his Parts so indeared him to Queen _Elizabeth_, that she sent him upon
an Embassy to the Emperor of _Germany_ at _Vienna_, which he discharged
to his own Honour, and her Approbation. Yea, his Fame was so renowned
throughout all Christendom, that (as it is commonly reported) he was in
election for the Kingdom of _Poland_, though the Author of his Life,
printed before his _Arcadia_, doth doubt of the truth of it, however it
was not above his deserts.
During his abode at the Court, at his spare hours he composed that
incomparable Romance, entituled, _The Arcadia_, which he dedicated to
his Sister the Countess of _Pembroke_. A Book (saith Dr. _Heylin_)
which, besides its excellent Language, rare Contrivances, and
delectable Stories, hath in it all the strains of Poesie, comprehendeth
the whole art of speaking, and to them who can discern and will
observe, affordeth notable Rules of Demeanour, both private and
publick; and though some men, sharp-witted only in speaking evil, have
depraved the Book, as the occasion that many precious hours are spent
no better, they consider not that the ready way to make the minds of
Youth grow awry, is to lace them too hard, by denying them just and due
liberty. Surely (saith one) the Soul deprived of lawful delights, will,
in way of revenge, (to enlarge its self out of prison) invade and
attempt unlawful pleasures. Let such be condemned always to eat their
meat with no other sawce, but their own appetite, who deprive
themselves and others of those sallies into lawful Recreations, whereof
no less plenty than variety is afforded in this _Arcadia_.
One writes, that Sir _Philip Sidney_ in the extream agony of his
wounds, so terrible the sence of death is, requested the dearest friend
he had, to burn his _Arcadia_; what promise his friend returned herein
is uncertain; but if he brake his word to be faithful to the publick
good, posterity herein hath less cause to censure him for being guilty
of such a meritorious offence, wherewith he hath obliged so many ages.
Hereupon thus writeth the _British_ Epigramatist.
_Ipse tuam morient sede conjuge teste jubebas,
Arcadium sævis ignibus esse cibum;
Si meruit mortem, quia flammam accendit amoris
Mergi, non uri debuit iste liber.
In Librum quæcunque cadat sententia nulla,
Debuit ingenium morte perire tuum._
In serious thoughts of Death 'twas thy desire
This sportful Book should be condemn'd with Fire:
If so, because it doth intend Love-matters,
It rather should be quench'd or drown'd i' th waters.
However doom'd the Book, the memory
Of thy immortal Wit will never die.
He wrote also besides his _Arcadia_, several other Works; namely, _A
Defence of Poesie_, a Book entituled _Astrophel_ and _Stella_, with
divers Songs and Sonnets in praise of his Lady, whom he celebrated
under that bright Name; whom afterwards he married, that Paragon of
Nature, Sir _Francis Walsingham_'s Daughter, who impoverished himself
to enrich the State; from whom he expected no more than what was above
all Portions, a beautiful Wife, and a virtuous Daughter.
He also translated part of that excellent Treatise of _Philip Morney du
Plessis_, of the Truth of Religion; and no doubt had written many other
excellent Works, had not the Lamp of his Life been extinguish'd too
soon; the manner whereof take as followeth:
His Unkle _Robert Dudley_ Earl of _Leicester_ (a man almost as much
hated as his Nephew was loved) was sent over into the _Low-Countries_,
with a well appointed Army, and large Commission, to defend the _United
Provinces_ against the _Spanish_ Cruelty. Under him went Sir _Philip
Sidney_, who had the Command of the cautionary Town of _Flushing_, and
Castle of _Ramekius_, a Trust which he so faithfully discharged, that
he turned the Envy of the _Dutch_ Townsmen into Affection and
Admiration. Not long after, some Service was to be performed nigh
_Zutphen_ in _Gueiderland_, where the _English_, through false
intelligence, were mistaken in the strength of the Enemy. Sir _Philip_
is employed next to the Chief in that Expedition; which he so
discharged, that it is questionable whether his Wisdom, Industry or
Valour may challenge to it self the greatest praise of the Action. And
now when the triumphant Lawrels were ready to Crown his Brows, the
_English_ so near the Victory, that they touched it, ready to lay hold
upon it, he was unfortunately shot in the Thigh, which is the
Rendez-vouz of Nerves and Sinews, which caused a Feaver, that proved so
mortal, that five and twenty days after he died of the same; the Night
of whose Death was the Noon of his Age, and the exceeding Loss of
Christendom.
His Body was conveyed into _England_, and most honourably interred in
the Church of St. _Paul_ in _London_; over which was fixed this
Epitaph:
_England_, _Netherland_, the Heavens, and the Arts,
All Souldiers, and the World have made fix parts
Of the Noble _Sidney_; for none will suppose
That a small heap of Stones can _Sidney_ enclose:
_England_ hath his Body, for she it bred;
_Netherland_ his Blood, in her defence shed;
The Heavens his Soul, the Arts his Fame;
All Soldiers the Grief, the World his good Name.
To recite the Commendations given him by several Authors, would of it
self require a Volume; to rehearse some few not unpleasing to the
Reader. The reverend _Cambden_ writes thus; This is that _Sidney_,
whom, as God's will was, he should be therefore born into the world
even to shew unto our Age a Sample of ancient Virtues. Doctor _Heylin_
in his _Cosmography_ calleth him, That gallant Gentleman of whom he
cannot but make honourable mention. Mr. _Fuller_ in his _Worthies_ thus
writes of him, His homebred Abilities perfected by Travel with foreign
accomplishments, and a sweet Nature, set a gloss upon both. _Stow_ in
his _Annals_, calleth him, a most valiant and towardly Gentleman.
_Speed_ in his Chronicle, That worthy Gentleman in whom were compleat
all Virtues and Valours that could be expected to reside in man: And
Sir _Richard Baker_ gives him this Character, A man of so many
excellent parts of Art and Nature, of Valour and Learning, of Wit and
Magnanimity, that as he had equalled all those of former Ages, so the
future will hardly be able to equal him.
Nor was this Poet forgotten by the Poets; who offered whole Hecatombs
of Verses in his praise. Hear first that Kingly Poet, or Poetical King,
King _James_ the first, late Monarch of Great _Britain_, who thus
writes,
_Armipotens cui jus in fortia pectora_ Mayors,
_Tu Dea quæ cerebrum perrumpere digna totantis,
Tuque adeo bijugæ proles_ Latonia _rupis
Gloria, decidua cingunt quam collibus artes,
Duc tecum, & querelis_ Sidnæi _funera voce
Plangite; nam vester fuerat_ Sidnæus _alumnus,
Quid genus, & proavos, & spem, floremque juventæ,
Immaturo obituraptum sine retexo?
Heu frustra queror? heu rapuit Mors omnia secum?
Et nihil ex tanto nunc est Heroe superstes,
Præterquam Decus & Nomen virtute paratum,
Doctaque_ Sidneas _testantia Carmina laudes._
Thus translated by the said King:
Thou mighty _Mars_, the Lord of Soldiers brave,
And thou _Mirnerve_, that dost in wit excel,
And thou _Apollo_, who dost knowledge have
Of every Art that from _Parnassus_ fell,
With all your Sisters that thereon do dwell,
Lament for him who duly serv'd you all:
Whom in you wisely all your Arts did mell,
Bewail (I say) his unexpected fall,
I need not in remembrance for to call
His Race, his Youth, the hope had of him ay,
Since that in him doth cruel Death appall
Both Manhood, Wit and Learning every way:
But yet he doth in bed of Honour rest,
And evermore of him shall live the best.
And in another place thus;
When _Venus_ sad saw _Philip Sidney_ slain,
She wept, supposing _Mars_ that he had been,
From Fingers Rings, and from her Neck the Chain
She pluckt away, as if _Mars_ ne'er again
She meant to please, in that form he was in,
Dead, and yet could a Goddess thus beguile,
What had he done if he had liv'd this while?
These Commendations given him by so learned a Prince, made Mr.
_Alexander Nevil_ thus to write;
Harps others Praise, a Scepter his doth sing,
Of Crowned Poet, and of Laureat King.
Divine _Du Bartus_, speaking of the most Learned of the _English_
Nation, reckoneth him as one of the chief, in these words;
And (world mourn'd) _Sidney_, warbling to the _Thames_,
His Swan-like Tunes, so courts her coy proud Streams,
That (all with child with Fame) his Fame they bear
To _Thetis_ Lap, and _Thetis_ every where.
Sir _John Harrington_ in his Epigrams thus;
If that be true the latter Proverb says,
_Laudari a Laudatis_ is most Praise,
_Sidney_, thy Works in Fames Books are enroll'd
By Princes Pens, which have thy Works extoll'd,
Whereby thy Name shall dure to endless days.
Mr. _Owen_, the _Brittish_ Epigrammatist thus sets him forth:
Thou writ'st things worthy reading, and didst do
Things worthy writing too.
Thy Arts thy Valour show,
And by thy Works we do thy Learning know.
I shall conclude all with these excellent Verses made by himself a
little before his Death;
It is not I that die, I do but leave an Inn,
Where harbour'd was with me all filthy Sin:
It is not I that die, I do but now begin
Into eternal Joy by Faith to enter in,
Why mourn you then my Parents, Friends and Kin?
Lament you when I lose, not when I win.
* * * * *
Sir _FULK GREVIL_.
Next to Sir _Philip Sidney_, we shall add his great Friend and
Associate, Sir _Fulk Grevil_, Lord _Brook_, one very eminent both for
Arts and Arms; to which the _genius_ of that time did mightily invite
active Spirits. This Noble Person, for the great love he bore to Sir
_Philip Sidney_, wrote his Life. He wrote several other Works both in
Prose and Verse, some of which were Dramatick, as his Tragedies of
_Alaham_, _Mustapha_, and _Marcus Tallius Cicero_, and others, commonly
of a Political Subject; amongst which, a Posthume Work, not publish'd
till within a few years, being a two-fold Treatise, the first of
Monarchy, the second of Religion, in all which is observable a close
mysterious and sententious way of Writing, without much regard to
Elegancy of Stile, or smoothness of Verse. Another Posthume Book is
also fathered upon him; namely, _The Five Years of King_ James, _or the
Condition of the State of_ England, _and the Relation it had to other
Provinces_, Printed in the Year 1643. But of this last Work many people
are doubtful.
Now for his Abilities in the Exercise of Arms, take this instance: At
such time when the _French_ Ambassadours came over into _England_, to
Negotiate a Marriage between the Duke of _Anjou_, and Queen
_Elizabeth_, for their better entertainment, Solemn Justs were
proclaimed, where the Earl of _Arundel, Frederick_ Lord _Windsor_, Sir
_Philip Sidney_, and he, were chief Challengers against all comers; in
which Challenge he behaved himself so gallantly, that he won the
reputation of a most valiant Knight.
Thus you see, that though _Ease be the Nurse of Poesie_, the Muses are
also Companions to _Mars_, as may be exemplified in the Lives of the
Earl of _Surrey_, Sir _Philip Sidney_, and this Sir _Falk Grevil_.
I shall only add a word or two of his death, Which was as sad as
lamentable. He kept a discontented servant, who conceiving his deserts,
not soon or well enough rewarded, wounded him mortally; and then (to
save the Law a labour) killed himself. Verifying therein the
observation, _That there is none who never so much despiseth his own
life, but yet is master of another mans_.
This ingenious Gentleman, (in whose person shined all true Vertue and
high Nobility) as he was a great friend to learning himself, so was he
a great favourer of learning in others, witness his liberality to Mr.
_Speed_ the Chronologer, when finding his wide Soul was stuffed with
too narrow an Occupation, gave it enlargement, as the said Author doth
ingeniously confess in his description of _Warwickshire, Whose Merits_
(saith he) _to me-ward, I do acknowledge, in setting this hand free
from the daily employments of a Manual Trade, and giving it full
liberty thus to express the inclination of my mind, himself being the_
Procurer _of my present Estate_.
He lieth interred in _Warwick_ Church, under a Monument of Black and
White Marble, wherein he is styled, _Servant to Queen_ Elizabeth,
_Counsellor to King_ James, _and Friend to_ Sir _Philp Sidney_. He died
_Anno 16--._ without Issue, save only those of his Brain, which will
make his Name to live, when others Issue they may fail them.
* * * * *
Mr. _EDMOND SPENSER_.
This our Famous Poet, Mr. _Edmond Spenser_, was born in the City of
_London_, and brought up in _Pembroke-Hall_ in _Cambridge_; where he
became a most excellent Scholar, but especially very happy in _English_
Poetry, as his learned, elaborate Works do declare, which whoso shall
peruse with a judicious eye, will find to have in them the very height
of Poetick fancy, and though some blame his Writings for the many
_Chaucerisms_ used by him, yet to the Learned they are known not to be
blemishes, but rather beauties to his Book; which, notwithstanding,
(saith a learned Writer) had been more salable, if more conformed to
our modern language.
His first flight in Poetry, as not thinking himself fully fledged, was
in that Book of his, called _The Shepherds Kalendar_, applying an old
Name to a new Book; It being of Eclogues fitted to each Month in the
Year: of which Work hear what that worthy Knight, Sir _Philip Sidney_
writes, whose judgment in such cases is counted infallible: _The
Shepherds Kalendar_ (saith he) _hath much Poetry in his Eclogues,
indeed worthy the reading, if I be not deceived; That same framing his
Stile to an old rustick Language, I dare not allow, since neither_
Theocritus _in_ Greek, Virgil _in_ Latine, _nor_ Sanazara _in_ Italian
_did effect it_. Afterwards he translated the _Gnat_, a little fragment
of _Virgil's_ excellency. Then he translated _Bellay_ his Ruins of
_Rome_; His most unfortunate Work was that of _Mother Hubbard's Tale_,
giving therein offence to one in authority, who afterwards stuck on his
skirts. But his main Book, and which indeed I think Envy its self
cannot carp at, was his _Fairy Queen_, a Work of such an ingenious
composure as will last as long as time endures.
Now as you have heard what esteem Sir _Philip_ _Sidney_ had of his
Book, so you shall hear what esteem Mr. _Spenser_ had of Sir _Philip
Sidney_, writing thus in his _Ruins of Time_.
Yet will I sing, but who can better sing
Than thou thy self, thine own selfs valiance?
That while thou livedst thou madest the Forests ring,
And Fields resound, and Flocks to leap and dance,
And Shepherds leave their Lambs unto mischance,
To run thy shrill _Arcadian_ Pipe to hear,
O happy were those days, thrice happy were.
In the same his Poem of the _Ruins of Time_, you may see what account
he makes of the World, and of the immortal Fame gotten by Poesie.
In vain do earthly Princes then, in vain,
Seek with Pyramids to Heaven aspir'd;
Or huge Collosses, built with costly pain;
Or brazen Pillars never to be fir'd,
Or Shrines, made of the metal most desir'd,
To make their Memories for ever live,
For how can mortal immortality give?
For deeds do die, however nobly done,
And thoughts of men do in themselves decay,
But wise words taught in numbers for to run,
Recorded by the Muses, live for aye;
Ne may with storming showers be wash'd away,
Ne bitter breathing with harmful blast,
Nor age, nor envy, shall them ever wast.
There passeth a story commonly told and believed, that Mr. _Spenser_
presenting his Poems to Queen _Elizabeth_, she highly affected
therewith, commanded the Lord _Cecil_, her Treasurer, to give him an
Hundred Pound; and when the Treasurer (a good Steward of the Queen's
Money) alledged, that Sum was too much for such a matter; then give
him, quoth the Queen, _what is reason_; but was so busied, or seemed to
be so, about matters of higher concernment, that Mr. _Spenser_ received
no reward: whereupon he presented this Petition in a small piece of
Paper to the Queen in her progress.
I was promis'd on a time,
To have reason for my rime,
From that time unto this season,
I receiv'd nor rime nor reason.
This tart reflect so wrought upon the Queen, that she gave strict order
(not without some check to her Treasurer) for the present payment of
the hundred pounds she first intended him.
He afterwards went over into _Ireland_, Secretary to the Lord _Gray_,
Lord Deputy thereof; and though that his Office under his Lord was
lucrative, yet got he no Estate; _Peculiari Poetis fato semper cum
paupertate conflictatus est_, saith the reverend _Cambden_; so that it
fared little better with him, (than with _Churchyard_ or _Tusser_
before him) or with _William Xiliander_ the _German_, (a most excellent
Linguist, Antiquary, Philosopher, and Mathematician) who was so poor,
that (as _Thuanus_ writes) he was thought, _Fami non famæ scribere_.
Thriving so bad in that boggy Country, to add to his misery, he was
robb'd by the Rebels of that little he had left; whereupon, in great
grief, he returns into _England_, and falling into want, which to a
noble spirit is most killing, being heartbroken, he died _Anno_ 1598.
and was honourably buried at the sole charge of _Robert_, first of that
name Earl of _Essex_, on whose Monument is written this Epitaph.
Edmundus Spencer, _Londinensis, Anglicorum Poetarum nostri seculi
fuit Princeps, quod ejus Poemata, faventibus Musis, & victuro genio
conscripta comprobant. Obiit immatura morte, Anno salutis_,
1598. _& prope_ Galfredum Chaucerum _conditur, qui
scoelisissime Poesin Anglicis literis primus illustravit. In quem
hæc scripta sunt Epitaphia._
_Hic prope_ Chaucerum _situs est_ Spenserius, _illi
Proximus ingenio, proximus ut tumulo.
Hic prope_ Chaucerum Spensere _poeta poetam
Conderis, & versu! quam tumulo proprior,
Anglica te vivo vixit, plausitque Poesis;
Nunc moritura timet, te moriente, mori_.
These two last lines, for the worthiness of the Poet, are thus
translated by Dr. _Fuller_.
Whilest thou didst live, liv'd English Poetry,
Which fears, now thou art dead, that she shall die.
A modern Author writes, that the Lord _Cecil_ owed Mr. _Spenser_ a
grudge for some Reflections of his in _Mother Hubbard's Tale_, and
therefore when the Queen had order'd him that Money, the Lord Treasurer
said, What all this for a Song? And this he is said to have taken so
much to heart, that he contracted a deep Melancholy, which soon after
brought his life to a period: so apt is an ingenious spirit to resent a
slighting even from the greatest persons. And thus much I must needs
say of the Merit of so great a Poet, from so great a Monarch, that it
is incident to the best of Poets sometimes to flatter some Royal or
Noble Patron, never did any do it more to the height, or with greater
art and elegance, if the highest of praises attributed to so Heroick a
Princess can justly be termed flattery.
* * * * *
Sir _JOHN HARRINGTON_.
Sir _John Harrington_ is supposed to be born in _Somerset-shire_, he
having a fair Estate near _Bath_ in that County. His Father, for
carrying a Letter to the Lady (afterwards Queen) _Elizabeth_, was kept
twelve months in the _Tower_, and made to spend a Thousand Pounds e're
he could be free of that trouble. His Mother also being Servant to the
Lady _Elizabeth_, was sequestred from her, and her Husband enjoyned not
to keep company with her; so that on both sides he may be said to be
very indear'd to Queen _Elizabeth_, who was also his Godmother, a
further tye of her kindness and respects unto him.
This Sir _John_ was bred up in _Cambridge_, either in _Christ_'s or in
St. _John_'s-Colledge, under Dr. _Still_ his Tutor. He afterwards
proved one of the most ingenious Poets of our _English_ Nation, no less
noted for his Book of witty Epigrams, than his judicious Translation of
_Ariosto's Orlando Furioso_, dedicated to the Lady _Elizabeth_,
afterwards Queen of _Bohemia_.
The _British_ Epigramatist, Mr. _John Owen_, in his second Book of
Epigrams, thus writes to him:
A Poet mean I am, yet of the Troop,
Though thou art not, yet better thou canst do't.
And afterwards in his fourth Book, _Epig._ 20. concerning Envy's
Genealogy; he thus complements him.
Fair Vertue, foul-mouth'd Envy breeds, and feeds;
From Vertue only this foul Vice proceeds;
Wonder not that I this to you indite,
'Gainst your rare Vertues, Envy bends her spite.
It happened that whilest the said Sir _John_ repaired often to an
Ordinary in _Bath_, a Female attendress at the Table, neglecting other
Gentlemen, which sat higher, and were of greater Estates, applied
herself wholly to him, accommodating him with all necessaries, and
preventing his asking any thing with her officiousness. She being
demanded by him, the reason of her so careful waiting on him? _I
understand_ (said she) _you are a very witty man, and if I should
displease you in any thing, I fear you would make an Epigram of me._
Sir _John_ frequenting often the Lady _Robert_'s House, his Wives
Mother, where they used to go to dinner extraordinary late, a Child of
his being there then, said _Grace_, which was that of the _Primmer,
Thou givest them Meat in due season_; Hold, said Sir _John_ to the
Child, you ought not to lie unto God, for here we never have our Meat
in due season. This Jest he afterwards turned into an Epigram,
directing it to his Wife, and concluding it thus:
Now if your Mother angry be for this,
Then you must reconcile us with a kiss.
A Posthume Book of his came forth, as an addition to Bishop _Godwin's
Catalogue of Bishops_, wherein (saith Dr. _Fuller_) besides mistakes,
some tart reflections in _Uxaratos Episcopos_, might well have been
spared. In a word (saith he) he was a Poet in all things, save in his
wealth, leaving a fair Estate to a learned and religious Son, and died
about the middle of the Reign of King _James_.
* * * * *
_JOHN HEYWOOD_.
This _John Heywood_ was one of the first writers of _English_ Plays,
contemporary with the Authors of _Gammar Gurton's Needle_, and _Tom
Tyler and his Wife_, as may appear by the Titles of his Interludes;
_viz._ The Play of Love; Play of the Weather; Play between _Johan_
the Husband, and _Tib_ his Wife; Play between the Pardoner and the
Fryer, and the Curate and Neighbour _Prat_; Play of Gentleness and
Nobility, in two parts. Besides these he wrote two Comedies, the
_Pinner of Wakefield_, and _Philotas_ _Scotch_. There was of this Name,
in King _Henry_ the Eighth's Reign, an Epigramatist, _who_, saith the
Author of the Art of _English_ Poetry, _for the mirth and quickness of
his conceits, more than any good learning was in him, came to be well
benefited by the King._
* * * * *
_THOMAS HEYWOOD_.
_Thomas Heywood_ was a greater Benefactor to the Stage than his
Namesake, _John Heywood_, aforesaid, he having (as you may read in an
Epistle to a Play of his, called, _The English Travellers_) had an
entire hand, or at least a main finger in the writing of 220 of them.
And no doubt but he took great pains therein, for it is said, that he
not only Acted himself almost every day, but also wrote each day a
Sheet; and that he might lose no time, many of his Plays were composed
in the Tavern, on the back-side of Tavern Bills; which may be an
occasion that so many of them are lost, for of those 220. mentioned
before, we find but 25. of them Printed, _viz. The Brazen Age_;
_Challenge for Beauty_; _The_ English _Travellers_; _The first and
second part of_ Edward _the Fourth_; _The first and second part of
Queen_ Elizabeth's _Troubles_; _Fair Maid of the West, first and second
part_; _Fortune by Land and Sea_; _Fair Maid of the Exchange_;
_Maidenhead well lost_; _Royal King and Loyal Subject_; _Woman kill'd
with kindess_; _Wise Woman of_ Hogsdon, Comedies. _Four_ London
_Prentices_; _The Golden Age_; _The Iron Age, first and second part_;
Robert _Earl of_ Huntington's _downfal_ Robert _Earl of_ Huntington's
_death_; _The Silver Age_; _Dutchess of_ Suffolk, Histories; _And
Loves Mistress_, a Mask. And, as if the Name of _Heywood_ were
destinated to the Stage, there was also one _Jasper Heywood_, who wrote
three Tragedies, namely, _Hercules Furiens_, _Thyestes_, and _Troas_.
Also, in my time I knew one _Matthew Heywood_; who wrote a Comedy,
called _The Changling_, that should have been acted at _Audley-end_
House, but, by I know not what accident was prevented.
* * * * *
_GEORGE PEEL_.
_George Peel_, a somewhat antiquated _English_ Bard of Queen
_Elizabeth_'s date, some remnants of whose pretty pastoral Poetry we
have extant in a Collection, entituled, _England's Helicon_. He also
contributed to the Stage three Plays, _Edward_ the first, a History;
_Alphonsus_, Emperour of _Germany_, a Tragedy; and _David_ and
_Bathsabe_ a Tragi-Comedy; which no doubt in the time he wrote passed
with good applause.
* * * * *
_JOHN LILLY_.
_John Lilly_, a famous Poet for the State in his time, as by the Works
which he left appears, being in great esteem in his time, and acted
then with great applause of the Vulgar, as such things which they
understood, and composed chiefly to make them merry. Yet so much prized
as they were Printed together in one Volume, namely, _Endymion_,
_Alexander and Campasoe_, _Galatea_, _Midas_, _Mother Boniby_, _Maids
Metamorphosis_, _Sapho and Phao_, _Woman in the Moon_, Comedies; and
another Play called _A Warning for fair Women_; all which declare the
great pains he took, and the esteem which he had in that Age.
* * * * *
_WILLIAM WAGER_.
This _William Wager_ is most famous for an Interlude which he wrote,
called _Tom Tyler and his Wife_, which passed with such general
applause that it was reprinted in the year 1661. and has been Acted
divers times by private persons; the chief Argument whereof is, _Tyler_
his marrying to a Shrew, which, that you may the better understand,
take it in the Author's own words, speaking in the person of _Tom
Tyler_.
I am a poor _Tyler_, in simple array,
And get a poor living, but eight pence a day,
My Wife as I get it doth spend it away;
And I cannot help it, she saith; wot ye why?
For wedding and hanging comes by destiny.
I thought when I wed her, she had been a Sheep,
At board to be friendly, to sleep when I sleep:
She loves so unkindly, she makes me to weep.
But I dare say nothing, god wot; wot ye why?
For wedding and hanging comes by destiny.
Besides this unkindness whereof my grief grows,
I think few _Tylers_ are matcht to such shrows,
Before she leaves brawling, she falls to deal blows.
Which early and late doth cause me to cry,
That wedding and hanging is destiny.
The more that I please her, the worse she doth like me,
The more I forbear her, the more she doth strike me,
The more that I get her, the more she doth glike me.
Wo worth this ill fortune that maketh me cry,
That wedding and hanging is deny.
If I had been hanged when I had been married,
My torments had ended, though I had miscarried,
If I had been warned, then would I have tarried;
But now all too lately I feel and cry,
That wedding and hanging is destiny.
He wrote also two Comedies, _The Tryal of Chivalry_, and _The longer
thou livest, the more Fool thou art_.
* * * * *
_NICHOLAS BRETON_.
_Nicholas Breton_, a writer of Pastoral Sonnets, Canzons, and
Madrigals, in which kind of writing he keeps company with several other
contemporary Emulators of _Spencer_ and Sir _Philip Sidney_, in a
publish'd Collection of several Odes of the chief Sonneters of that
Age. He wrote also several other Books, whereof two I have by me, _Wits
Private Wealth_, and another called _The Courtier and the Country-man_,
in which last, speaking of _Vertue_, he hath these Verses:
There is a Secret few do know,
And doth in special places grow,
A rich mans praise, a poor mans wealth,
A weak mans strength, a sick mans health,
A Ladies beauty, a Lords bliss,
A matchless Jewel where it is;
And makes, where it is truly seen,
A gracious King, and glorious Queen.
* * * * *
_THOMAS KID, THOMAS WATSON_, &c.
_Thomas Kid_, a writer that seems to have been of pretty good esteem
for versifying in former times, being quoted among some of the more
fam'd Poets, as _Spencer_, _Drayton_, _Daniel_, _Lodge_ &C. with whom
he was either contemporary, or not much later: There is particularly
remembred his Tragedy, _Cornelia_.
There also flourish'd about the same time _Thomas Watson_, a
contemporary immitater of Sir _Philip Sidney_, as also _Tho. Hudson_,
_Joh. Markham_, _Tho. Achelly_, _Joh. Weever_, _Ch. Middleton_, _Geo.
Turbervile_, _Hen. Constable_, with some others, especially one _John
Lane_, whose Works though much better meriting than many that are in
print, yet notwithstanding had the ill fate to be unpublish'd, but they
are all still reserved in Manuscript, namely, his _Poetical Vision_,
his _Alarm to the Poets_ his _Twelve Months_, his _Guy of Warwick_, a
Heroick Poem; and lastly, his Supplement to _Chaucer's Squires Tale_.
* * * * *
Sir _THOMAS OVERBURY_.
Sir _Thomas Overbury_, a Knight and Wit, was Son to Sir _Nicholas
Overbury_ of _Burton_ in _Glocester-shire_, one of the Judges of the
Marches; who, to his natural propension of ingenuity, had the addition
of good Education, being bred up first in _Oxford_, afterwards, for a
while a Student of the Law in the _Middle Temple_; soon after he cast
Anchor at Court, the Haven of Hope for all aspiring Spirits; afterwards
travell'd into _France_, where having been some time, he returned
again, and was entertained into the respects of Sir _Rob. Carre_, one
who was newly initiated a Favourite to King _James_; where, by his wise
carriage, he purchased to himself not only the good affection and
respect of Sir _Robert_, but also of divers other eminent persons.
During his abode with Sir _Robert Carre_, he composed that excellent
Poem of his, entituled, _A Wife_; which, for the excellency thereof,
the Author of the Epistle to the Reader, prefixed before his Book, thus
writes, _Had such a Poem been extant among the ancient_ Romans, _altho'
they wanted our easie conservation of Wit by Printing, they would have
committed it to Brass, lest injurious time might deprive it of due
eternity_. Nor was his Poem of _A Wife_ not only done to the life, but
also those Characters which he wrote, to this day not out-witted by
any.
But to return from the Work to the Workman; Mr. _Overbury_ is by the
King knighted, and Sir _Rob. Carre_ made a Viscount, and such a
reciprocal Love pass'd betwixt them, that it was questionable, whether
the Viscount were more in favour with King _James_, or Sir _Thomas
Overbury_ in the favour of the Viscount? But what estate on earth is so
firm, that is not changeable, or what friendship is so constant, that
is not dissolvable? Who would imagine this Viscount should be
instrumental to his death, who had done him so faithful service, and to
whom he had embosom'd his most secret thoughts? Yet so it was, for Sir
_Thomas_, out of an unfeigned affection which he bare to the Viscount,
diswaded him from a motion of a Marriage which was propounded betwixt
him and the Lady _Francis Howard_, who was lately divorced from the
Earl of _Essex_, as a Match neither for his credit here, nor comfort
hereafter. This Counsel, though it proceeded from an unfeigned love in
Sir _Thomas_, yet where Beauty commands, all discretion being
sequestred, created in the Viscount a hatred towards him; and in the
Countess the fury of a woman, a desire of revenge, who perswaded the
Viscount, _That it was not possible that ever she should endure those
injuries, or hope for any prosperity so long as he lived; That she
wondred how he could be so familiar, so much affected to his man_
Overbury; _that without him he could do nothing, as it were making him
his right hand, seeing he being newly grown into the Kings favour, and
depending wholly upon his greatness, must expect to be clouded if not
ruined, when his servant that knew his secrets should come to
preferment._ The Viscount, apt enough of his own inclination to
revenge, being thus further exasperated by the Countess, they joyntly
resolve upon his death, and soon a fit opportunity came to their hands.
He being by King _James_ (and as it is thought by the Viscount's
Counsel) nominated to be sent Embassador to the Emperor of _Russia_,
was by the said Viscount, whom he especially trusted, persuaded to
decline the employment, as no better than an _honourable Grave_; Better
lie some days in the _Tower_, than more months in a worse Prison; a
Ship by Sea, and a barbarous cold Country by Land. _You are now_ (Said
he) _in credit at home, and have made tryal of the dangers of travel,
why then should you hazard all upon uncertainties, being already in
possession of that you can probably expect by these means_; promising
him, that within a small time he would so work with the King, that he
should have a good of opinion him. But he (saith Dr. _Fuller_) who
willingly goes into a Prison out of hope to come easily out of it, may
stay therein so long till he be too late convinced of his error.
And now having him in the place where they would, their next study to
secure their revenge, was closely to make him away; which they
concluded to be by poyson. To this end, they consult with one Mrs.
_Turner_ (the first inventer of that horrid Garb of yellow Ruffs and
Cuffs, and in which Garb she was after hanged) she having acquaintance
with one _James Franklin_, a man skilled for that purpose, agreed with
him to provide that which should not kill presently, but cause one to
languish away by degrees, a little and a little. Sir _Gervas Yelvis_,
Lieutenant of the Tower, being drawn into the Conspiracy, admits one
_Weston_, Mrs. _Turners_ man, who under pretence of waiting upon Sir
_Thomas_, was to act the horrid Tragedy. The Plot thus continued,
_Franklin_ buyes certain Poysons, _viz. Sosater_, _white Arsenic_,
_Mercury sublimate_, _Cantharides_, red _Mercury_, with three or four
other deadly Ingredients, which he delivered to _Weston_, with
instructions how to use them. _Weston_, (an apt Scholar in the Devil's
School) tempers them in his Broth and Meat, increasing or diminishing
their strength according as he saw him affected. Besides these,
poyson'd Tarts & Jellies are sent him by the Viscount. Nay, they
poysoned his very Salt, Sauce, Meat and Drink; but being of a very
strong Constitution, he held out still: At last they effected their
work by a poysoned Clyster which they administed unto him, so that the
next day he died thereof; and because there were some Blisters and ugly
Botches on his Body, the Conspirators gave it out he died of the
_French Pox_.
Thus by the Malice of a Woman this worthy Knight was murdered, who yet
still lives in that witty Poem of his, entituled, _a Wife_; as is well
expressed by these Verses under his Picture.
A man's best Fortune, or his worst's a Wife:
Yet I that knew no Marriage, Peace, nor Strife,
Live by a good one, by a bad one lost my Life.
But God, who seldom suffers Murder to go unrevenged, revealed the same;
for notwithstanding what the Conspirators had given out, Suspitions grew
high that Sir_ Thomas_ was poysoned: Whereupon _We port_ is examined by
the Lord _Cook_, who at first flatly denied the same; but being
perswaded by the Bishop of _London_, he tells all: How Mrs. _Turner_
and the Countess came acquainted; what relation she had to Witches,
Sorcerers and Conjurers; and discovers all those who had any hand in
it: whereupon they were all apprehended; some sent to the _Tower_,
others to _Newgate_. Having thus confessed, being convicted according
to course of Law, he was hanged at _Tyburn_; after him Mrs. _Turner_,
after her _Franklin_, then Sir _Gervas Yelvis_, upon their several
Arraignments, were found guilty, and executed. Some of them died very
penitent: The Earl and his Countess were both condemned, but through
the King's gracious Pardon had their Lives saved, but were never
admitted to the Favour of the Court.
We shall conclude all with this his Epitaph written by himself.
The span of my days measur'd, here I rest,
That is, my Body; but my Soul, his Guest,
Is hence ascended, whither, neither Time,
Nor Faith, nor Hope, but only Love can clime;
Where being now enlightned, she doth know
The Truth of all men argue of below:
Only this Dust doth here in pawn remain,
That, when the world dissolves, she come again.
* * * * *
Mr. _MICHAEL DRAYTON_.
Mr. _Drayton_, one who had drunk as deep a Draught at _Helicon_ as any
in his time, was born at _Athelston_ in _Warwickshire_, as appeareth in
his Poetical Address thereunto, _Poly-Olbion_, Song 13. p. 213.
My native Country then, which so brave Spirits hast bred,
If there be virtue yet remaining in thy earth,
Or any good of thine thou breath'st into my Birth,
Accept it as thine own whilst now I sing of thee,
Of all thy latter Brood th'unworthiest tho' I be.
He was in his time for fame and renown in Poetry, not much inferior, if
not equal to Mr. _Spencer_, or Sir _Philip Sidney_ himself. Take a
taste of the sprightfulness of his Muse, out of his _Poly-Olbion_,
speaking of his native County _Warwickshire_.
Upon the Mid-lands now th'industrious Muse doth fall,
That Shire which we the Heart of _England_ well may call,
As she herself extends (the midst which is _Deweed_)
betwixt St. _Michael's Mount_ and _Barwick_-bordering
_Tweed_,
Brave _Warwick_ that abroad so long advanc'd her _Bear_,
By her illustrious Earls renowned every where,
Above her neighbouring Shires which always bore her Head.
Also in the Beginning of his _Poly-Olbion_ he thus writes;
Of _Albions_ glorious Isle the wonders whilst I write,
The sundry varying Soyls, the Pleasures infinite,
Where heat kills not the cold, nor cold expells the heat,
The calms too mildly small, nor winds too roughly great.
Nor night doth hinder day, nor day the night doth wrong;
The summer not too short, the winter not too long:
What help shall I invoke to aid my Muse the while? _&c._
However, in the esteem of the more curious of these times, his Works
seem to be antiquated, especially this of his _Poly-Olbion_ because of
the old-fashion'd kind of Verse thereof, which seems somewhat to
diminish that respect which was formerly paid to the Subject, although
indeed both pleasant and elaborate, wherein he took a great deal both
of study and pains; and thereupon thought worthy to be commented upon
by that once walking Library of our Nation, Mr. _John Selden_: His
_Barons Wars_ are done to the Life, equal to any of that Subject. His
_Englands Heroical Epistles_ generally liked and received, entituling
him unto the appellation of the _English Ovid_. His Legends of _Robert_
Duke of _Normandy_. _Matilda_, _Pierce Gaveston_, and _Thomas Cromwel_,
all of them done to the Life. His _Idea_ expresses much Fancy and
Poetry. And to such as love that Poetry, that of _Nymphs_ and
_Shepherds_, his _Nymphals_, and other things of that nature, cannot be
unpleasant.
To conclude, He was a Poet of a pious temper, his Conscience having
always the command of his Fancy; very temperate in his Life, flow of
speech, and inoffensive in company. He changed his Lawrel for a Crown
of Glory, _Anno_ 1631. and was buried in _Westminster-Abbey_, near the
South-door, by those two eminent Poets, _Geoffry Chaucer_ and _Edmond
Spencer_, with this Epitaph made (as it is said) by Mr. _Benjamin
Johnson_.
_Do, pious Marble, let thy Readers know
What they, and what their Children ow
To Drayton's Name, whose sacred Dust
We recommend unto thy Trust_
_Protect his Memory, and preserve his Story,
Remain a lasting Monument of his Glory:
And when thy Ruines shall disclaim
To be the Treasurer of his Name,
His Name that cannot fade shall be
An everlasting Monument to thee_.
* * * * *
_JOSHUA SYLVESTER_.
_Joshua Sylvester_, a very eminent Translator of his time, especially
of the Divine _Du Bartus_, whose six days work of Creation, gain'd him
an immortal Fame, having had many great Admirers even to these days,
being usher'd into the world by the chiefest Wits of that Age; amongst
others, the most accomplisht Mr. _Benjamin Johnson_ thus wrote of him.
If to admire, were to commend my Praise
might then both thee, thy work and merit raise;
But, as it is (the Child of Ignorance
And utter stranger to all Ayr of _France_)
How can I speak of thy great pains, but err;
Since they can only judge that can confer?
Behold! the reverend shade of _Bartus_ stands
Before my thought and (in thy right) commands
That to the world I publish, for him, this:
_Bartus doth with thy_ English _now were his_,
So well in that are his Inventions wrought,
As his will now be the _Translation_ thought,
Thine the Original; and _France_ shall boast
No more those Maiden-Glories she hath lost.
He hath also translated several other Works of _Du Bartus_; namely,
_Eden_, the _Deceipt_, the _Furies_, the _Handicrafts_, the _Ark_,
_Babylon_, the _Colonies_, the _Columns_, the _Fathers_, _Jonas_,
_Urania_, _Triumph of Faith_, _Miracle of Peace_, the _Vocation_, the
_Fathers_, the _Daw_, the _Captains_, the _Trophies_, the
_Magnificence_, &c. Also a Paradox of _Odes de la Nove_, Baron of
_Teligni_, with the Quadrains of _Pibeac_; all which Translations were
generally well received: but for his own Works which were bound up with
them, they received not so general an approbation; as you may perceive
by these Verses;
We know thou dost well
As a Translator,
But where things require
A Genius and a Fire,
Not kindled before by others pains,
As often thou hast wanted Brains.
* * * * *
Mr. _SAMUEL DANIEL_.
Mr. _Daniel_ was born nigh to the Town of _Taunton_ in _Somersetshire_;
his Father was a Master of Musick, and his harmonious Mind (saith Dr.
_Fuller_) made an impression in his Son's Genius, who proved to be one
of the Darlings of the Muses, a most excellent Poet, whose Wings of
Fancy displayed the Flags of highest Invention: Carrying in his
_Christian_ and _Sirname_ the Names of two holy Prophets; which, as
they were Monitors to him, for avoyding Scurrility, so he qualified his
Raptures to such a strain, as therein he abhorred all Debauchery and
Prophaneness.
Nor was he only one of the inspired Train of _Phoebus_, but also a most
judicious Historian, witness his Lives of our _English_ Kings since the
Conquest, until King _Edward_ the Third, wherein he hath the happiness
to reconcile brevity with clearness, qualities of great distance in
other Authors; and had he continued to these times, no doubt it had
been a Work incomparable: Of which his Undertaking, Dr. _Heylin_ in the
Preface to his _Cosmography_, gives this Character, speaking of the
chiefest Historians of this Nation; _And to end the Bed-roll_ (says he)
_half the Story of this Realm done by Mr._ Daniel, _of which I believe
that which himself saith of it in his Epistle to the Reader, that there
was never brought together more of the Main_. Which Work is since
commendably continued (but not with equal quickness and judgment,) by
Mr. _Truffel_.
As for his Poems so universally received, the first in esteem is, that
Heroical one of the Civil Wars between the two Houses of _York_ and
_Lancaster_; of which the elaborate Mr. _Speed_, in his Reign of
_Richard_ the Second, thus writes: _The Seeds_ (saith he) _of those
fearful Calamities, a flourishing Writer of our Age_ (speaking of Mr.
_Daniel_) _willing nearly to have imitated_ Lucan, _as he is indeed
called our_ English Lucan, _doth not unfortunately express, tho' he
might rather have said he wept them, than sung them; but indeed so to
sing them, is to weep them._
I sing the Civil Wars, tumultuous Broils
And bloody Factions of a mighty Land,
Whose people haughty, proud with foreign spoyls;
Upon their selves turn back their conquering hand
While Kin their Kin, Brother the Brother foils,
Like Ensigns, all against like Ensigns stand:
Bows against Bows, a Crown against a Crown,
While all pretending right, all right throw down
Take one Taste more of his Poetry, in his sixth Book of that Heroical
Poem, speaking of the Miseries of Civil War.
So wretched is this execrable War,
This civil Sword, wherein though all we see
be foul, and all things miserable are,
Yet most of all is even the Victory;
Which is, not only the extream Ruiner
of others, but her own Calamity;
Where who obtains, cannot what he would do:
Their power hath part that holp him thereunto.
Next, take notice of his _Musophilus_, or general Defence of Learning,
Dedicated to Sir _Fulk Greuil_; his Letter of _Octovia_ to _Marcus
Antonius_, his Complaint of _Rosamond_ his _Panegyrick_, _Delia_, _&c._
Besides his _Dramatick_ Pieces; as his Tragedy of _Philotus_ and
_Cleopatra_; _Hymenis Triumph_, and the _Queens Arcadia_, a Pastoral;
being all of them of such worth, that they were well accepted by the
choicest Judgments of those Times, and do yet remain in good esteem, as
by their often Impressions may appear.
This our Poet's deserts preferr'd him to be a Servant in ordinary to
Queen _Anne_, the most illustrious wife of King _James_ I. who allowed
him a fair Salary, such as enabled him to keep a handsom Gardenhouse in
_Old-street_ nigh _London_, where he would commonly lie obscure
sometimes two Months together, the better to enjoy that great Felicity
he aimed at, by enjoying the company of the _Muses_, and then would
appear in publick, to recreate himself, and converse with his Friends;
of whom the most endeared were the Learned Doctor _Cowel_, and
Judicious Mr. _Cambden_.
And now being weary of the Troubles of the City and Court, he retired
into the Country, and turn'd Husbandman, Renting a Farm or Grange in
_Wiltshire_ nigh the _Devizes_, not so much, as it is thought, for the
hope of gains, as to enjoy the retiredness of a Country Life: How he
thrived upon it, I cannot inform my self, much less my Readers,
although no question pleasing himself therein, he attained to that
Riches he sought for, _viz._ Quiet and Contentedness; which whoso
enjoys, reapeth benefit of his labours. He left no Issue behind him but
those of his Brain, though living a good space of time with _Justina_
his wife: For his Estate, he had neither a _Bank_ of Wealth, nor _Lank_
of Want; but living in a competent contented condition, and died (as it
is conjectured) about the latter end of King _James_ I.
* * * * *
_GEORGE CHAPMAN_.
_George Chapman_ was one in his time much famed for the Fluency of his
Muse; gaining a great repute for his Translation of _Homer_ and
_Hesiod_, which in those times passed as Works done without compare;
and indeed considering he was one of the first who brake the Ice in the
Translation of such learned Authors, reading the highest conception of
their Raptures into a neat polite _English_, as gave the true meaning
of what they intended, and rendred it a style acceptable to the Reader;
considering, I say, what Age he lived in, it was very well worthy
praise; though since the Translation of _Homer_ is very far out-done by
Mr. _Ogilby_. He also continued that excellent Poem of _Hero_ and
_Leander_, begun by _Christopher Marlow_, and added very much to the
Stage in those times by his Dramatick Writings; as his _Blind Beggar_
of _Alexandria_, _All Fools_, the _Gentleman Usher_, _Humorous Days
Mirth_, _May-Day_, _Mounsieur D'Olive_, _Eastward ho_, _Two wise men,
and all the rest Fools_, _Widows Tears_, Comedies; _Bussy D' Amboys_,
_Byron's Tragedy_, _Bussy D'Amboys Revenge_, _Cæsar_ and _Pompey_,
_Revenge for Honour_, Tragedies; the _Temple_, _Masque of the Middle
Temple_ and _Lincolns-Inn_ Masques; and _Byron's Conspiracy_, a
History; in all seventeen.
* * * * *
_ROBERT BARON_.
Of this _Robert Baron_, we can recover nothing, save only those
Dramatick Pieces which he wrote to the Stage, and which no doubt passed
with good applause in those times. Of these are remembred his _Don
Quixot_, or _the Knight of the Ill-favoured Countenance_, a Comedy;
_Gripus_ and _Hegia_, a Pastoral; _Deorum Dona_, _Dick Scorner_,
_Destruction of Jerusalem_, _the Marriage of Wit and Science_, Masques
and Interludes; and _Myrza_, a Tragedy.
* * * * *
_LODOVIC CARLISLE_.
To Mr. _Robert Baron_ we may add _Lodovic Carlisle_, as much about the
same time, and of like equal esteem; having written some not yet
totally forgotten Plays, _viz._ _Arviragus_ and _Felicia_, in two
parts; _the deserving Favorite_, _the Fool would be a Favorite_, or
_the deserving Lover_, Tragi-Comedies; _Marius_ and _Scylla_, and
_Osmond the Great Turk_, or _the Noble Servant_, Tragedies; all which
shew him (though not a Master) yet a great Retainer to the Muses.
* * * * *
_JOHN FORD_.
To these we may add _John Ford_, a Dramatick Writer likewise of those
times; very beneficial to the _Red-Bull_ and _Fortune_-Play-houses; as
may appear by these Plays which he wrote, _viz._ _The Fancies_, _Ladies
Tryal_, Comedies; _the broken Heart_; _Lovers Melancholy_, _Loves
Sacrifice_, _'tis pity she's a Whore_, Tragedies; _Perkin Warbeck_, a
History; and an Associate with _Rowley_ and _Deckar_ in a Tragi-Comedy
called _The Witch_ of _Edmonton_.
* * * * *
_ANTHONY BREWER_.
_Anthony Brewer_ was also one who in his time contributed very much
towards the _English_ Stage by his Dramatick Writings; especially in
that noted one of his, entituled, _Lingua_; which (as it is reported)
being once acted in _Cambridge_, the late Usurper _Cromwel_ had therein
the Part of _Tactus_, the Substance of the Play being a Contention
among the Senses for a Crown, which _Lingua_, who would have made up a
sixth Sense, had laid for them to find; having this Inscription;
_Which of the five that doth deserve it best,
Shall have his Temples with this Coronet blest._
This Mock-contention for a Crown, is said to swell his Ambition so
high, that afterwards he contended for it in earnest, heading such a
notable Rebellion, as had almost ruined three flourishing Kingdoms.
But to return to Mr. _Brewer_; Besides this _Lingua_, he wrote _Loves
Loadstone_, and _the Countrey-Girl_, Comedies; _the Love-sick King_,
and _Landagartha_, Tragi-Comedies, and _Loves Dominion_, a Pastoral.
* * * * *
_HENRY GLAPTHORN_.
_Henry Glapthorn_ was one well deserving of the _English_, being one of
the chiefest Dramatick Writers of this Age; deservingly commendable not
so much for the quantity as the quality of his Plays; being his
_Hollander_, _Ladies Priviledge_, and _Wit in a Constable_, Comedies;
his _Argalus_ and _Parthenia_, a Pastoral; and _Alberus Wailestein_, a
Tragedy; in which Tragedy these Lines are much commended.
_This Law the Heavens inviolably keep,
Their Justice well may slumber, but ne'er sleep,_
* * * * *
_JOHN DAVIS_ of _Hereford_.
In the writing of this Mans Life, we shall make use of Dr. _Fuller_ in
his _England_'s _Worthies_, who saith, that he was the greatest Master
of the Pen that _England_ in his Age beheld; for,