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No Muse can make high flight,
Whose Lustre lackes Nó Light.


To the right right Noble, for all that is in Nobility, Art, or Nature, William Earle of Pembrooke, &c.

Wit , and my Will (deere Lord) were late at strife
To whō this Bridegroome I for grace might send.
Whose Bride was erst the happiest husbands wife,
That ere was haplesse in his Friend, and End.
Wit, with it selfe, and with my Will, did warre:
For, Will (good-Will) desir'd it might be YOU:
But, Wit found fault with each particular
It selfe had made; sith YOU were It to view.
Alledging YOU had all his Vertue got,
And left him gracelesse: so, was loth t'appeare
To your cleare eyes: wherwith good-Will grew hot,
And said her loue, to YOU, was all as cleare:
Then, both agreed YOU should, for lasting-life,
Sith best YOU could, make this man match that Wife.
Your honors now as euer most humbly deuoted, Iohn Dauies.

A SELECT SECOND HVSBAND FOR SIR THOMAS OVERBVRIE'S WIFE, NOW A WIDOW.

Man is, of men the varied same and summe,
As riuers runne the same, and not the same:
In Vnitie, the Odds do Odds or'ecome;
Diffring in Time, Place, Person, Face, and Name:
Yet, all's but Man; and Man is all: that he
Should all the World of Men, t' a Woman be.
But Man, made like, alike did marre his making;
So, must re-made be, to be like his Maker:
Which cannot be without a selfe-forsaking:
For, Sinne of Grace can neuer be partaker.
Sin made him like Gods most vnlike: then, he
To be like him that made him, grac't must be.

He must be grac't with Grace and Glory too;
For, God hath both, who made him to his moode:
If Men haue both, they win still what they woo:
For, nought they woo that is not passing good:
“Loue liues in likenes; then, it dies when it
“Meets with Unlikenesse, both in Will, and Wit.
In Beauty, I had rather Uertue finde,
Than seeke it in Deformitie; for, Grace
The gracefull guides: and Nature makes the Minde
The Body like; the Iewell fits the Case.
Beauty's a beame of Heau'ns DIVINITY:
But, vglinesse (like Hell) but plagues the Eye.
Beautie is good; for, Goodnes made it so:
Which is Loues obiect: yet must good-men be
Haters of louing women, if they show
Lesse grace than beautie, in their goodnesse: he
Is no good husband that a wife will choose
For face, but grace; and grace, but grace to vse.

Shape, is but Natures grace to Naturals
As well as wise-men: nought then therein lies
Worthy those Ladies precious Pectorals
That are as good, as great; and kinde, as wise:
Yet where both in, and outward Beautie's rise,
There is an husband worth a Monarchs wife.
For, such rare Beauties rauish both the sense
Of soule and Body; such an heauenly sparke
Doth feast the eye of the Intelligence,
As well as that which sees by light more darke:
Queans haue more choice then queens, that are as kings
Then seldom wiue they such celestial things.
Where Fortune plaies the Prodigall, there can
Beseldome found but what Loue still doth hate:
A Rig the wife, a Rake-hell (oft) the man,
Although a paire of Princes in their state:
Aboundance clogs the soule, and so she flies
No more than swolne voluptuousnes can rise.

Wouldst thou (wise Virgin) wiue no man thy foe?
Then taste, before thou touch him: store of salt
Eaten with him, doth make him relish so
As he both seemes and is: Nay, tis a fault
To trust thy touch, or taste; vnlesse he be
By Time, on Trials touch, found right for thee.
Right, take not wrong: for, no right golden-back,
Right shape, state, birth, nor breeding, I intend:
If all these Rights, a right good-mind do lacke,
They cānot make right Husband, or right Friend.
“He's most-most-bad, although an Angell still,
“That is so bad but meerely in his Will.
Forme, is not matter: shape, no substance is:
And either neither is to be belou'd
Or loth'd, but as its meete, or most amisse:
As it with Vice, or Vertue still is mou'd:
Then, she that weds for forms sake, wiues a shade
Or nought; or marr'd with nothing that is made.

Forme, in an Image, giues no Essence to it:
Or, gaue it Essence; if deform'd it were,
It could but moue to hate; which might vndo it:
Then, wouldst thou loue aright? aright, then, feare
Ill-motions; whereto, worst ill-will is best,
Sith therewith naught, that is not worse, can rest.
Beauty's but skin-deepe, nay, it is not so;
It floates but on the skin beneath the skin,
That (like pure Aire) scarse hides her fullest flow;
It is so subtill, vading, fraile, and thin:
Were she skin-deepe, she could not be so shallow,
To win but fooles her puritie to hallow.
Say, that a Paire were matcht without a Peere
For Beauties grace; yet, if they should but sin,
Their grace were more in crime, then beauty, clear:
And frailer then her Tiffany, the skin:
Their interchanged raies would then reflect,
Either to each, but dulnesse and neglect.

Heauen's outward beauty loue, and wonder would
In all procure, were it but seldome seene;
But, but to Copper, Custome turnes their gold:
So, graiest loue of Grace, is euer greene
In beautie seld enioy'd; but, with it cloyd,
Both soule and sense thereby is still annoyd.
If beautie then, be not faire Uertues Inne,
Nay, not her Heau'n, wherein she resteth still,
She's loath'd of sense, if she do lodge but sinne:
Though sin and sense be friends; Sense loues no ill
It hath found ill: for ill can nere be lou'd;
Sith nought can loue that good that ill is prou'd
A man, in print, or made in waxe, these words
Transferre to our conceit the highest worth
Of outward-shape; which (dead) more life affords
Than quickest flesh, as nature sets it forth:
“Yet, if a man in print, be dull, or dead,
“He's a faire body, but a soule of lead.

Nay, though that Body could be made to moue,
In measures, most immeasurably in grace;
Such measures, yet, but, sinke-apace her loue
That is not lewd, if he dance not with GRACE:
“A lofty Capitoll, is but high to rise
“Shaking, like one, nor great, nor good, nor wise.
Yet this mad-mean the mean mounts, now, & then;
In marr-age oft: the goodnesse of the backe
Is all that is beloued in such men;
Not well to backe them; sith no such they lacke
Whose bellies are all backe, to vndergo
The bellies charges, that the backe vndo.
To flatter Beauty is to raise it hie
(As fowles do shel-fish) so, to fall, and brast,
To prey, at pleasure, on it inwardly;
Than, keepe off such: for they'l come on too fast;
Such clawers will be scratchers from thy state,
And make the bed of loue, the lodge of hate.

These, like bemired Dogges, with fawning, file,
As Witte it selfe, hath erst obseru'd: then, looke
Shee nere be tempted with such gawdy-guile:
Lest, with the Baite, she swallow down the Hook.
The best mans praises sound, his hart doth ioy,
Then, what wil't doe a Woman? make her toy.
Such gawds wil make thee grieue, & griefe go roūd
In her owne Circle: issuing at her mouth,
To enter at her Eares: the secret wound,
Sharp Praise doth giue, though but for real Truth,
Proues oft more mortal thā the wounds of death
That kil but flesh. Then, keep her frō such breath.
I would shee should be modest, but not sadde:
Yet modest sadnes doth faire lookes decore:
As Shadowes doe more life to Pictures adde;
So, sober-lookes, make bright ones beame the more.
Beauty and Boldnesse oft togither goe,
But still as Foes, themselues to ouerthrow.

The praised, will to their owne Musicke dance:
For, nought is more melodious in the Eare,
Than our high praises that our hearts aduance,
And make vs (ioy'd) too wanton them to heare.
“The more Ambition in our Minde is nurst,
“The more our praise wil swell it, til we burst.
The greatest good that bad Wiues can disclose,
Is Beauty: but, in good Wiues t'is the least:
Yet Beauty is, to Sense, a Damaske-Rose,
That doth for sweetnesse better Natures best:
But yet t'is but the Signe where Beauty lyes
More worth by grace; the minds good qualities.
Chast Eyes giue Eyes to Cupid: then, thou must
(If shee be fairely Modest) haue a care,
And helpe her Loue to shunne Adultrers Lust,
That by her grace, growes more irregular:
For, Innocencie is not alwayes free
Frō causelesse shame: then, help her eyes to see.

Her lookes (if well she looke) may frolike hope;
And bind it to the good-behauiour too:
Yet, this more fires close hearts (that dare not ope
To giue it vent) which then, by lookes do woo:
And though they moue not, yet, the ouert thought
Makes modesty to blush as she were nought.
And blushing so, makes obseruations eyes
Mis-looke into the cause of that effect:
Whence rumors runne, while Slanders do arise
Against the name of vertue in effect:
Then, sith good name's (like glasse) as frail, as clear,
All care should keepe it cracklesse in thy Deer.
And if the husband liue as free from thought
As act of falsehood to the mariage-bed,
Much more the wife should, sith much more shee ought:
For, she may staine his blood, and paine his Head:
As lieue had I she should b'in deede vntrue,
As wrong my right in thought, if it I knew.

Ioynes she with me, for issue; and disioynes
Her selfe from me therein, in her best part?
Then, for my share, she lends me but her loynes,
While she to one, lesse worthy, giues her hart:
What patience can endure my base foes base
Should with my land run quite beyond my race.
Then, if her heart be gone; farewell my wife:
Nay, farewell I: perhaps shee'l me vndo:
Or cast about, to cast away my life
Backeward, and forward, till I cast It too:
Then, if a peerelesse Peere the husband grow,
The wife will match-lesse be, to mate him so.
The diuell is a matchlesse Alchymist;
He can transmute the richest mettl'd-man
To Lead, in her conceit, that is so blist;
And, make her, so, her owne good-fortune ban:
But, bann'd be all, that but assist herein,
To make the swolne with grace, to burst with sin.

To burst with Sinne! O, that that damnd effect
Had neuer Diuell, to occasion it!
Then, Loue might haue what it should best affect
Without the Sin of such a banefull fit:
“But when the heau'ns, to wrack vs, are decreed,
“They blind our iudgemēts: so, we fal with speed.
O Damn'd Desire, what wouldst? or what is it
That should to Change so much thy soule dispose?
No Blisse nor Beauty tis, conceyu'd by Wit:
For, Wit the truth of Natures secrets knowes.
Though Beauty then seeme Sol, at least as rich,
It wil be found but Lune, on Tryalls touch.
O! whither wilt, prowd Flesh? To fall in state?
Think'st, there secure in spight of Spight to stand?
No: soon thou wilt be thrown throgh publike-hate
To Ermines? nay: to Uermines Netherland;
Whre thou be myr'd with Clay, stil scor'nd shalt lye
A Slaue to Spades and Spights iust tyrannie.

Good-wit still wins Good-will; & makes them glad
That haue good wit, yet haue not all good will:
But yet good wit, without good will, is bad,
Being Armed-vice, that wounds, vnwounded still:
“That head is head-strong, that is full of Brains;
“And, runnes awry if Grace hold not the Rains.
Learning and Wisedome are but seldome-when
Ioynd in one Sconse; sith diuers in their powre.
“The greatest Clarks are not the wisest men;
And wise-men oft (like fools) for nought do lowre.
Then, as a Wife too witty, is too vaine;
So, is a husband, bad, with too much Braine.
The search of Wisedom, sith so close it lyes
Obscur'd from sight, is full of paines that kill:
Then, sith Ire burnes (like Fire) in Agonies,
A good wise-man, makes no good Husband still:
For, hee is wayward, and his Wife must woo
For kindenesse; yet not bee too forward too.

Sacred Religion best they loue and know
That runne no Bace beyond her ghostly Goale
Such make good husbands, paying what they owe
To their kinde other Halfe; not when the whole
Is willing, but the Halfe; though, but for Lust,
If shee would what he could, then needs he must.
A Man with Woman neuer can be said
To sinne, when sinne, by some iust circumstance
Is tane away, or iustly so allay'd,
That Grace it selfe the same doth countenance:
“No deed's vniust, how ere vniust it bee,
“If it be so, but in so iust degree.
But Wit and Knowledge so the mind inflate
As make it most imperious: then, the Wife
That's matcht to him that is so stiffe in state,
Must liue a supple Slaue, else die in strife:
Bookes better can the mind; but what they can
They do not, if they meete with such a man.

Then let him be diuinely wise (like GOD)
Glad without Ioy, and Sad, without Offence;
That's all alike, to beare the Staffe and Rod;
With Temperance, so, to feast his soule and sence:
Kinde, and not Wanton; sober, yet not sowre,
Still hauing all his Passions in his powre.
Flowe Numbers on deepe streames of Helicon,
Which in a world of Arte, are scarce found rife,
Till you haue made one Husband-Paragon,
To fitte one rate, but Ouer-buried Wife:
Hold Colours to the life, while I, by Art.
Lyne out a Husband fitte to lyne her Hart.
Platonicall Ideas, stand aloofe,
And let my purest Pen delineate
No Husband meere suppos'd; but, one of proofe:
Without a checke, to giue a Queene the mate:
Which may be found in earnest, yet Art can
Scarce with Arts colours, paint so rare a Man.

Hee is a Lambe, whose All is all so deare
That nought of him is vselesse, loue to get:
Hee is a Lyon, making Beasts to feare
His vertues: so, is milde, sterne, small, and great:
Hee is, What not, if good? and yet to God
Hee is not eu'n: yet with him neuer odde.
His Byrth and Breeding, (like his Body) right;
His Minde, with witty Flashes (fir'd aboue)
Doth lighten oft, to giue his wife some light
To mend her misse; and all in mirth and loue:
For, sowre Reproofs, and Iests, how euer sweet,
That come too-sharply, woūd whē they do greet.
For shee (if truely Noble) rather had
In priuate dye, then publikely be checkt:
For, publike shame makes Reas'n, in Greatnes, mad:
And GRACES face it selfe will (so) be fleckt
With Uertues Rosie-rayes. Then, closely moue
To check thy mate in Game, to win her loue.

God left his Sonne, and he his Sire forewent
But for his wife, the Church: then, for his wife
Man should himselfe forsake, ere himselfe rent
From her that is his (honor) life of life:
But, bitter taunts and checks, in publike, be
A rending her, thy honors life, from thee.
God chargeth man to loue (his bone) his wife,
As his owne flesh; nay, as himselfe: that is,
Both soule, and body: then, decline such strife
As may incline thy whole to do amisse.
Who hates his wife, his owne shame loues: for she
His honor is; or (honoured) would be.
Are wiues made helpes, and comforts too, by God?
Then, should they such be made by husbands too.
Be man and wife made euen; yet, be odd?
O! shame for one; that so, of One makes Two;
Yet cannot make Two, euen! Shall a Third
Be broght to make Two, euen? That were hard.

Then, at her errors winke with open sight,
As sacred Loue requires thee: thou must be
The Atlas of her frailties; thou must right
What is amisse, in loue, that faults doth see
To hide them; yet, to mend them: so shalt thou
But beare thine own Harts-ease, & neuer Rue.
Of outward cares thou must the Camell be,
And beare them soundly for your Commonwealth
Ore highest Lets; as Cares-domesticke, she
Must beare, though sickely, for thy ease and health:
Thou canst not presse her more to make her fall,
Than still to make her beare the weight of all.
Marriage contracted is (ere it be knit)
For strength, (sith two are stronger farre than one)
Yet must the man, with manly strength and wit,
Beare all the heauiest loads himselfe alone:
“The weaker by the stronger must be easd;
“As by the weake the stronger must be pleasd.

And, so Heau'ns queene, y'er knit, contracted was;
To shew (though heauen holp) she help must haue
But of a feeble husband, and an Asse,
The Lord of strength, made feeble, so to saue:
Then, must the husband of the happy wife
Be strong, to beare her Bale; and guard her life.
For, what an abiect weakenesse is't to see
Her wrong'd by brutish force, defam'd by spight,
Yet haue no strength or heart, in no degree
Of age, or state, her so great wrong to right:
“There is no Woman, though most full of feare,
But hates (as hell) a cowheard to her pheare.
Feare, is to cowardize more painfull farre
Then death to the couragious: a faint-heart
Is hartlesse but to heare a Trumpeter:
Nor is his feare by Nature cur'd, or Art.
Then is a wo-mans honour poore in plight,
That's guarded by a man so poore in sprite.

Mariage, that is most noble, should haue nought
But what is noble in it; noble-moods
To scorne that frailty, and despise that thought
That is not truly noble: mariage-goods
Are Ils, if good they be not made by these,
Else to haue much, is much, but to displease.
It is of knots the sur'st: for, two in one
So fast it knits, that death can scarse diuide:
Nay, many kindreds it doth so attone,
That, to Posteritie, they one abide.
The husband, then, for this strong vnitie,
Should strongly prop this long Posteritie.
[_]

(Sm: Serm: 1.)

For Time, it's noble; sith at first the God
Of th' Uniuerse, did institute it, when
Man lackt an helper (sith he was but odd)
To fill the world with worlds of other men.
He, was an husband call'd yer he had wife:
So, next to God, an husband's Lord of life.

In Paradise it was ordain'd; and so,
For place it's noble: and, if innocence
May make that noble, which from thence doth flow
Nobilitie therein hath residence:
“The Lord of loue, who hatred most doth hate,
“Is matcht to those that loue in maried state.
Then, Time, Place, Person, that did it effect,
Being so noble, noble it must be
Aboue all Friendships, which we should affect;
Sith it is so transcendent in degree:
Woman, was made for man; and (for his aide)
Made of that holpe: that holpe, then, must be staid.
With Miracles 'twas honor'd; but none such
Are done but for Gods glory, and Mens loue
To make a Man a God; least God might grutch
That Man (his Image) should not be aboue
The Angells: so, lest they his Grace should dym,
He made himselfe a Man, to grace but him.

Then, to his Prototype, if man will bee
Like; he must like but what that Type doth please
Who loues the married Paires that well agree:
But sith men to their wiues are winds and seas,
Who moue as men do moue, it them behoues
With breath and motion sweete, to win their loues.
For, of their Arch-type they this lore do learne;
The Church, his floting Spouse, he moueth so:
His blessed wind blowes euer in her sterne,
And makes his mercies seas to ebbe and flow
As best behoues her, till she hath attain'd
The hau'n, for which she was both pleasd & paind
The ribbe of man, where of his wife was made
Was crooked: so, though wiues be such by kinde;
Yet man, of God, in wisedome, learn'd, the trade
To bow them streight: then, gently them to binde
With cords of loue from starting backe againe,
Till, without stubburnnesse, they streight remain.

Of Earth, his Maker made man: but of bone
God made his wife: then, wiues still harder are
Than men, for bent: yet, husbands must turne stone,
When, throgh their softnes, they their wiues do mar
“Men may be hard, and good: but harldy can
“A husband soft, e're make a good wise-man.
While Eue was made, her Make did soundly sleep
But, oft, while husbāds sleep, their wiues are marr'd
The house-wife, then, the house doth hardly keepe:
When, in soft-sleepe, she sees he sleepeth hard:
Then wakefull be, to keep thy wite from sin,
And running out, that marres thy commings in.
She made was of the Rib, not of the Head:
Then, keepe thy headship, for thine honors sake:
And for her grace, and good: and, keepe thy bed
(But sleep not much) frō that wt keeps thee wake
For, if they touch thy Brow, t'will swell vnseene,
Which ranking inward, outward shews thy teene.

The fertile-seed-plot of the world should be
Free from pollution; mariage should be cleane:
Pure seed, well sowne, from cockle should be free;
That so the crop, or fruite, might be a meane
Whereby the tribe, maintain'd, might still endure
In name as right, as in fame firme, and pure.
And so to keepe it, it behooues thee much
To make thy wife no wanton; for, thou maist
Make her thy whore, with many a wanton-touch:
Be prudent then, when e're thou with her plai'st:
And, set straite limits to thy lust; for, she
Will proue a libertine, if so thou be.
It's thy fault; though thy right she wrong therein:
Art thou her stay, yet mak'st her fall the more?
Yea, fall into adulterous three-fold sinne?
For, so she is thy widow, wife, and whore.
Then, let no lawlesse lust the bed pollute,
That may make sacred mariage dissolute.

Would'st haue the body chast, and not the head?
That cannot be: but, she the body is,
Whose head thou art: by thee she's bred or led
To good or ill: then, do not thou amisse.
“As good the head were empty, as not full
“Of braines to gouerne all beneath the scull.
The dueties of the bed may, but may not
Be well, perform'd without some secret staine:
For, each least wandring thought incurres a blot:
From which, what loue could euer thoght restrain?
So, we are all too sinfull, ere we sinne,
Sith we by this are all conceiu'd therein.
Can the desire but thinke vpon the deede
As 'tis an Act of Generation,
And neuer let the thought, on fancies breede
(Through heate of lust) some loth'd corruption?
Lust mixt with loue, begets the race of men:
Then, who knows lusts iust sise; or keeps it then?

Say, it's but so much as but warmes Desier
To get our like; yet who doth mete so much,
But in the measure may be found, a lyer,
Sith Iustice scales are turn'd but with a touch:
Whose eye still waits, so, on their turning right
That each least tricke of lust is found too light.
Then, let thy lust thy pure loue neuer let:
For, loue lusts not: or, if it do, it is
But complementall, or our likes to get,
While loue is kept a-foote the more for this:
Yet loue may be so pure and so intire,
That it will hate least heate of foraigne-fire.
O! to a soule that's simply pure, it is
Irkesome to do pure marriage duest rights:
Whose spirit suspects fraile flesh doth still amisse
In all her workes: so, with it, still she fights:
But women, weak'st of flesh, are yet so strong,
As if thou wrong'st thy self, thy right the'l wrong

From sense of ill then keepe her: for, she's wax
To take impressions apt, and hold them too:
She'l lacke no time nor place, nor wit she lacks
To do what her will, marr'd by thee, would do:
No maruell then, though Fame the bugle winds
Thou seek'st thy self: and follow what she finds
Teach not thy wife to speake facundiously;
Much lesse affectedly: but still to speake
Her natiue dialect with puritie
(Yet short as seld) when e're she silence breakes:
To make thy wife a Parrat, she'l giue thee
A Daw (perhaps) or Cuckow for thy fee.
Do thou thy selfe what thou wouldst haue her do
(Examples more than Precepts leade the way)
And, of her sex, rehearse Examples too
Mellow and moderne: these will runne away
With her Affections; so to emulate
Their Vertues that all worlds so celebrate.

To keepe Loue greene, forbeare the Custome gray
Of lying whollie, with thy Halfe each Night:
Yet not sans-leaue, least the Halfe fall away
But, with consent, it breedes the more delight
In Loues delight: for, that doth but annoy
Which loathd Societie doth still enioy.
If shee be faire, i'ts fowle to bring her to
Mad-merry-meetings, Reuells, or to Court:
Kinde-Natures, as their like, there needs must do;
So there thy Browes may batter'd bee in sport:
“Thats hardly kept that many doe desire.
Then, not t' enflame her, keepe her out of Fire.
If her
[_]

(Sr Tho: Ouerb:)

Behauiour be a surer Barre,
Then is her No; then, tempt not That too much:
Shee is a Woman; so, too weake to warre
With Compleat-men, that take but with a Touch:
“Many that haue resisted long, with strength,
“Yet striuing still, grow weake, & fall at length.

The force of Womens loue in vertuous course,
Is Lyon-like, not first to be withstood:
But sooner tam'de by following than by force:
For Bloods made hottest oft, in coldest blood,
Like Wells in Winter; so, the Leacher can
Be first a good, and then a Beastly Man.
Is shee but young? Then t'is but young, to bring
Thine Olde-acquaintance to her. Is shee olde?
Olde-Doings yet may rise from Communing:
Then olde and young from such Occasions holde:
Yet not so straite her, as shee may espie,
Through pure Restriction, thy grosse Iealausie.
There's none extreamly good, or passing badde
Vpon the sudden; but by slowe degrees.
No sober soule is at an Instant madde,
But falls too't peece-meale in her Faculties:
First Fantasie, and then Intelligence:
Then Iudgement, with each other Inward-sense.

So must thou looke thy Wife vntyr'd may runne
In Uertues progresse, right, from grace to grace:
Sith running backe, she may be ouerrunne
By Uice: and so be ruin'd in the Race.
Custome, is Natures second-selfe: and so,
By Custome shee'l runne right, and vpright goe.
The higher Pow'rs doe second Causes make,
As Accessaries to their iust Decrees:
And that vnwittingly; then, make thy Make
Vnwares to doe what with thee best agrees,
Who art the second Cause, of what shee is;
Then, thou hast chiefest Cause to looke to this.
“Its good to keepe a Hatch before the Dore;
And yet that Hatch, to hatch no euill will
In Wife nor Friend; nor yet in rich, nor poore;
But, to doe good, let it but keepe out Ill.
An Husband should be carefull of his Wife;
Then, can not be too carefull of her life.

Its no mistrust of thy Wiues truth, to keepe
Thy Chest fast lockt, wherein thy Treasure lyes;
But, for shee may be either Shrew, or Sheepe,
Thou letst her keep it, while thou keepst the keyes:
And so both keepe it safe, and both enioy
That which false-Friends by stealth would but destroy.
Care's no Distrust, the wittiest
[_]

(Syr Tho: Ouerb: wife.)

Wife hath said,
That ere was made for wisest Husbands vse:
Care of her Honor, is her Honors ayde:
Neglect may bee her Honors deaths excuse:
Loue's Lord himselfe is iealous of his Honor,
And loues those that with care do wayt vpon her.
Nay, hee is iealous likewise of our Loue;
Yet hee is God of Order, loue, and right:
Then, what hee doth in Wisedome, we may proue
In Prudence, without Iealousie, or spight.
If thou do loue thy Wife, thou lou'st her Fame
More than her life, sith longer liues the same.

Yet looke vpon her Frailtyes with more Loue
Then Iudgement, so to hyde them; for, thou must
(So shee be true to thee) as often proue
As shee desires the Sport, though but of Lust:
All haue not Continence, their Fame to crowne:
Then must shee be conteyned with her owne.
And though it bee a torment to a Man,
(Cold in this kinde) to force Fire out of Ice:
Yet if shee would, hee should, though ill hee can;
Sith sinne it is not then to pleasure Uice.
Grace makes sinne Grace, in this necessitie;
Sith Grace, this wrong to Grace doth rectifie.
Then, loue her not the worse for this, sith that
It is (perhaps) Complexions sinne: and so
Some other may be thine as deprauate.
She matcht to know no more thē she might know.
Then, if what well she may, she vse at neede,
Loue her for that the more, sith don with heede.

Man, Wife, and Children are Correlatiues.
Then must the Man, his Wife and Children vse
As Uessells (not as Uassalls, chiefly Wiues)
Of Honour, which hee should no way abuse.
Gods, and thy grace, must make thy Childrē good;
And not the grace, nor glory of thy Bloud.
A Bloody grace, is but a Beastly glory.
For, all the grace of Bloud from Blood proceedes:
The brauest Uictor hath the brightest Story,
Made of his Acts; That is, his Bloudy-deedes.
Then, from thy Spirit, into thy sonne infuse
More then thy Flesh in him could ere effuse.
Children are Blessings, if they blessed bee;
Or else, with Cham, accurst. One going wrong
More grieues than ten right running: O! ay mee!
This is the Burden of my heauyest Song:
Nature's more apt to grieue, then ioy in all;
Sith sold to Sorrow, by the First Mans fall.

It is an vnknowne Good then, to haue none;
If none be had without such cause to mourne,
What need we for but Heires to make such mone,
Sith when we part, we neuer more returne?
Haue we no Kinne, nor Poore? if either, then
We, haue Heyres: for, all are our deer Brethren.
O! but our House, & Name, (two nameless Things,
For deerenesse) then (say wee) must bee extinct;
“But sith Kings come of Slaues, and slaues of Kings,
As good its Common, as to be distinct
In Reason: and in Nature, all is one;
If oddes there bee, it is in grace alone.
What haue wee heere to doe, when we are hence
As farre as Heau'n or Hell, and euer there?
Can the Sonnes weale, the Syres woes recompence
That's dampn'd? or's future hopes, his present feare?
Or, can heau'ns blisse, b'increasd by the sōnes mirth
In Earth? If neither, leaue thy House to Earth.

The World and Wee do at one Instant end:
And, eythers Relickes, senseless are to each.
Then, from my Sonne, sith I can-not ascend,
It skills not though my House receiue a Breache
To lette in others: I my Center keepe
Whē well I wake in GOD, and in Earth sleepe.
Children, and Comforts, are Correlatiues;
The first being good: or, if but dissolute,
How ere wee may be blessed in our Wiues,
Yet are wee most accursed in their Fruite:
And nought there is, that can this Curse preuent,
But GOD, by grace; and thou, by Gouernment.
Our Husband then must know the Rules of RVLE:
And when to vse them too; and vse them then:
Else, if an Asse be taught but by a Mule,
Hee'l stil be brutish. Olde must teach Young men;
As wise, the fond; And so, our Petty-god,
In his Homes-heau'n, must vse the staffe, & rod.

With which these three must be or cheerd or checkt;
Wife, Children, Seruants, in their kindes: but, so
As thou maist both thy good, and theyrs effect.
The Lambe and Lyon must vnited go
To this great Worke; & with them, still the Fox,
To work on These, with Kindnes, craft, & knocks.
But, must thy selfe bee subiect to thy Rodde?
Thy Wife's thy Selfe; or halfe thy selfe, at least.
Why? must not Man (made like) be like his God
In Iustice? Did not God, when Man trangrest,
Correct him Selfe as Man, for Man? Then must
A Man correct his Wife, when it is iust.
Christ, and his Church are Two; yet make but One:
As Man and Wife doe: yet, though shee do erre,
He dide t'appease his Ire for That, alone;
And yet, for That, hee oft chastiseth her:
So double beats himselfe for Single-sinne;
Himselfe the Shell of his Sweete-selfe within.

So, teach thy wife, by ruling, to obay;
And, by obedience, rule with greater might:
Thou rul'st aright, when she no worse doth sway,
As Kings do when their iudges iudge aright:
Good Iudges make ill Kings rule graciously,
But, thou must make hers, thy rule glorifie.
Yet Blowes are brutish, if thy Wife they touch,
Vnlesse she man-kind turne, in furious moode:
Then, maist thou giue her more, at least as much
As she bestowes; and all but for her good:
“The paine of One that pleasure brings to Two
“Made One, makes loue more free & faster too.
A man-kind-woman, is a monstrous man:
That's, a she-man, or loth'd Hermophrodite,
Taking the name, of what most in her can
Do in each sex: then, if she loue to smite,
She is a monstrous wo-man, of man-made,
But man to marre; or, making, to inuade.

Looke how th' Angell staid great Abrahams stroke
At point to fall: so should the sacred Name
O Wife, alone, the falling Blow reuoke
Yet fall, t'her sorrow, and the strikers shame:
The God of Peace dwels not in Tents of warre;
Much lesse with man and wife that so do iarre.
Contention is resembled to a fire;
And fire leaues nought, but worse then nought behind;
That's, Dust or smoake; and so, such hate and ire
Wasts all, saue (worst of all) foule Rumors wind:
Which doth pursue their cinders, till they ly
In Læthe, or in rotten memory.
The voyce of Nature (which nere sounds amisse)
Still cries, that Peace, is Heau'n; and warre, is Hell:
Is thy wife good? then great thy Fortune is.
If ill; she is thy crosse; yet beare it well:
And howsoere, let nought thy mind offend,
But what thou canst, & yet thou wilt not, mend.

The parcels of thy selfe (thy children) strike
When they misdo; yet, not so oft as then:
Some-times to winke at what we do mislike,
Is well to see to do like prudent men:
That is, when sweetnes, more then sharpnes, will
Their proper good, keepe from improper ill.
And such an hand still beare thou on the raines,
As bridle may, with ease, their Coltish will;
With ease to either; for, to neither, paines
Are pleasing; so that kindnesse do not kill.
As fond Apes do their yong: Thy children, so,
Thy will, with ease, shall still both do & know.
Yet, to their carriage, euer haue an Eye;
And check when least they trip, lest much they fal:
Nay, beare not with them euen the light est lie;
The burden's more than may be borne with-all:
So, with strict vse of going-well, they will,
With pleasure, beare thē selues most vpright still.

Thy Seruants (Portions of thy goods) if ill,
Mend with sound strokes; but yet remember'd be
Thou hast a Master too, and thwartst his will;
Then, strike, for that, as he, for this, should thee:
Do as thou wouldst be done to, is his Heast.
Than, do no more; but, so to do, is best.
Those of her Sex, set vnder her command,
Leaue to her chastisement when they mis-do:
The Seruant-maide waits on her Mistresse hand;
Then, by that hand she should be punish't too:
It's far more lowe, then mans worth should aspire,
To hurt a maide in sport; much more in ire.
Hirelings, that are not yet as meniall,
More freely vse then thy bond-seruants still;
Yet not, as to one good, giue grace to all:
But, let thy front distinguish good, from ill:
From whose squint-eyes, hide wel thy il-vsd pow'r.
For, it they'l vent with breath as soft as sow'r.

Prouision (soule of hospitalitie)
To Inne it well, must be the husbands care.
Magnificence liues by Frugalitie;
Be sparing, then, to spend; and, spending, spare.
Beare, and Forbeare: forbeare least vaine expence
Of wealth, to beare vp thy Magnificence.
Labour, to Be: but, idle be, to Seeme:
(Sith but to seeme is idle) so, shalt thou
Be held more deere, the lesse thou dost esteeme
Of thine owne worth. To rise, then, is to bow:
But, in thy house thou must retaine that state,
That there is fittest to predominate.
Thou must b'a King, a Prophet, and a Priest,
To gouerne, teach and pray: so Masters ought.
To be lesse good than wise, doth ill resist:
To be more good than wise, is euill thought
For gouernment: for, such will fall at length
By the strong pow'r of their owne weaknes strength.

When thou dost feast, (so that the poore fast not)
Feast thou as oft, as well thy state may beare.
Haue Guests that haue no pleasure in the pot,
But, sadly game some; witty, as austere:
So, shalt thou bind to thee (in loue, at least)
Men worth thy meate; in earnest, and in iest.
Life, and Societie do so accord,
As, if they be diuided, die they will:
And, frolicke Fate doth (lightly) load that Bord
That feeds the honest and the hungry, still:
Yet, boord no Buffons, that are boorders broad;
Their Loue is light; and yet, a heauy loade.
They are but Baskets of the Diuels almes,
Which keepe his scraps of wit for wicked wills:
These wound with will, & then giue witty balms;
With laughter feed; than, bring in saddest Bills.
Meere moaths of great-men; good-mens eyesores: O!
I would, nor good, nor great men, such did know.

Then, such to shun, and with them, other Pests,
Pray euer to be taught in Wisedomes schooles;
And craue the Master of thy soules requests
To blesse thee from the sacrifice of fooles:
Be thou not Bell, whose guilefull Priests did eat
(While, senselesse, he lookt on) his means & meat
Let Mornes, and Eu'nings neuer passe their prime:
But, with the little Church, or petty state
In thy home's signiory pray out that Time,
To be preseru'd from Sense so reprobate:
Then, Wisedome, Feare, and Loues deuotion shall
Be as Triumvirate, to rule thine All.
And, when thy life, thus spent, draws neer her date
Let Prudence, and Compassion penne thy Will;
For, they'l make Loue and Right so part thy state,
As All shall like; and, for it, loue thee still:
So, Thine, and th' other Thine (the poore) shalbe
Still ioy'd, in griefe; and, grieu'd, in Ioy, for thee.

Now sleeps this husband, in his latest home,
While heau'nly glory watcheth when he wakes,
To take him to her temple, from his tombe;
Sith Fame, her selfe, of him, an Idoll makes:
But, Heau'nly glory enuy'ng his Fames praise,
Swallows Fames beams into her brighter raies.
Which will but more discouer (by their light)
The best of husbands staines, that scarce appeare:
By which their own clear raies becom most bright
Yet all too browne for her that is more cleare.
Then, shine fair Pair, til som more heau'nly sprites
Do make your glory like the light of lights.
And let her Fame flie euer in the Aire
Of the sweet'st Muses breath, that ere shal breath
The Aire of Art and Nature: till Despaire
Damne Enuy, looking stil but for her death:
But selfe-life cannot die. Then this deare Wife
Shall liue till death be endlesse-Glories life.
Finis.

DIVERS ELEGIES TOVCHING THE DEATH OF THE NEVER TOO MVCH PRAISED AND PITIED, SIR THOMAS OVERBVRY.

[T'insult vpon the wretched, is a Crime]

T'insult vpon the wretched, is a Crime
That harsh and hatefull makes the smoothest Rime.
If One all Ils, in one should perpetrate,
His Person should be priuiledg'd from hate
In loue, that makes men God-like: for, if God
Be grieu'd, where he hath cause to vse his Rod,
The griefe is for the Person, not the paine,
Which partly he, in loue, doth (so) sustaine.
He made not Death: nor, doth he take delight
To damne, for doing wrong; but, for his right:
Nor, for his right grieues soules to ruinate
But dy'd, in loue, to saue them from his hate.
The Iudge that would be lik'st him, when he giues
His Doome on the Delinquent most that grieues,

Powders his words in Eye-brine, so to tast
Of grace, to them, that (so condemn'd) are grac't.
Then, let no fault, how-euer capitall,
The faultie Person make so loth'd of al,
That he, for it, should so be'reft of heart,
As, in despaire, to wracke his better part.
Though one should ruine all the world, yet he
(If we could helpe it) should not damned be:
For, for but temp'rall faults, eternall Totters
We cannot wish t'our killers, and be Martyrs.
But, yet, (O yet!) To let the good-man die
For goodnesse shewne, without our lowdest cry
For Iustice, for so damn'd, so diu'lish Crime,
Were iust damnation to the Place and Time
Wherein we liue; and Priests might sermon thus;
“T'were better to be ill, than good, with vs.
Enough, for that: but, ne're enough of Him
That so was wrackt: Then, flow my Tears, & swim
Sad Muse therein, till thou attaine the Port
Of his Arts-fame, beneath his Good-report.

And yet that fame aboue our sight doth fly,
For rich composure in sweete Poesie;
And, percht so hie aboue our cunnings spheare,
That All may follow still; but, None come neere.
No Line in his rich-Numbers confluence
But more than bounds a boundlesse Sea of sense.
Through all the Cauernes of a Braine as pure
As euer did the Queene of Art immure
They glyded still, with vnconceiued sleight,
Yet they to view, transported his conceit.
Nor onely so; but, held the best things vaine
That easly fall into a world of Braine:
But onely that he tooke, that hardly fals
Into the Braines of Arts best Generals?
That ere his Theughts obiected were to sight,
Our Sense might wel perceiue his thoughts to fight
For place and grace, and all to grace his Wife
(Now matchles widow) were they thus in strife.
His Common-sense, and phantasie conuey'd
Their Obiects to his Iudgement, to be weigh'd

But for her vse; yet so, as hee is thought
To be the Best that euer Arte hath wrought.
His Mindes cleare Eye pry'd narrowly, to spie
What well would grace her, yet it come to Eye.
Not like some idle Poets of our Time,
That ouersee great Reason, for small Ryme:
And from Inuention, take what comes vnwaigh'd
(By Iudgement, with the Understandings ayde)
To farse great Bookes, with Ignorance farre greater:
Which neretheless, oft better sell than better.
Minerua, mend this Misse: or take them hence,
That strangle innocent Intelligence,
With lines too rude for Mules: But our Apollo
Made none, that made not all his Priests to follow
Drawne by the Eares, to the Similitude
Of his Artes beauty, and Beatitude.
But, enuious FATE (vnable to abide
A Man, that was, like God, so glorifide
For faire Desert) with Uenom did inuent
A way to bane the wittiest Innocent
That euer dyde to liue: for, liue hee must,

And shall, in fame, a Martyr, in his dust.
For, wrackt he was for his Integrity,
By the high hand of Pow'r, and Iniury:
Who, for but leading blinded Loue aright,
Was (ah!) misdone by that Loues banefull spight.
O pittie, past compare! O dire Euent
Of truest loues so laudable intent!
Words cannot vtter it; and Wit's too weake
To shew the ruth of it. Swell heart, and breake.
Then, sith nor words nor wit can ere suffise
To shew the ruth that from lesse fals doth rise;
And t'vndergoe the blaze of this distresse,
Makes my Pen straddle with the heauinesse,
Rest here sad Pen; sith all thy sable Teares
Are lighter than this Cause of cares and feares:
For, if from thee but one Teare should descend
So blacke as It, that Teare would feare a Fiend;
Or if, through thee, one Teare should fall in Print
So sad as it, that Teare would teare a Flint.
I. D.

An Epitaph.

Wit , Art, and Nature made a three-fold warre
To reigne, wt peace, in him which here doth lie:
Wit straue with Art; and both (though regular)
With Nature, ioyning, straue for Soueraigntie.
But, Prudence, with her powr's, (still bent to peace
Keeping the Sconse, that did his whole command)
The marre surceased for his Worthinesse;
That onely It had then the vpper-hand.
Yet selfe-diuided-honesty beheld
That peace, in warre with her owne Charitie.
Thē, bent her powr's to make their powr's to yeeld
So, all subdu'd to selfe-Integrity.
But, Fate (best friend but to the most profane,)
Stirr'd vp the hand of Hate, in heart of Pow'r,
(And all in shew of Loue) to worke his bane;
So, from Minerua's crown soone cropt this flow'r:
Yet ere it went, it left such Aire (though dimme)
As makes all sweete that sauours but of him.

Mirum in Modum.

If euer Time or Fate produc't such Crimes
As may shake hell with horror but to heare,
The instant NOW may flow to After-times
To drownd thē with amazement, griefe, and feare:
For, if the fluxion of this instant NOW
Effect not That, noght wil that Time doth know.
Yet Time, as yet, but shewes (as through a glasse)
Part of the whole; but, by that parts extent
Iudgement may guesse, in euill, it doth passe
As farre beyond beliefe, as precedent:
Loue fain would hide it; yet heau'ns iustest hate
Deems that grace damnd, that it would palliate.

Yet Iustice nought reueales, but for the day
Wherein her tryals be; and, that's no more
Than the Offender doth himselfe bewray;
Which is but part of trecheries greater store:
This poyson-plague is so contagious, that
Tis fear'd it spreds, to inwards of more state.
Should I my selfe, at whom Loue first doth aime,
(And yet not selfe-loue) so offend, I should
In Conscience damne my selfe t'an hell of shame;
Sith neither Time nor Place such sinne do hold:
“For, greatest Crimes but to extenuate,
“Is but the Doers crime to aggrauate.
To cloke a fault so fowle, and yet so cleare,
Is, in the Sunne, the vgliest Toade to hide
With banefull aire; through which it doth appear
More vgly farre, and by it more espide.
“Then, Penitence, not Impudence, doth win
“The greatest grace t'acquit the greatest Sin.

None otherwise then as the Lion's said
To spare to spoyle his humble yeelding prey:
So, by high'st grace is highest Iustice staid
At point to strike, when yeelders mercy pray:
But her t'affront with pride, or stubbornnesse,
Makes her more horrid; and grace, mercilesse.
Say, Greatnesse; VVhat accompt wilt make to heau'n
For making those that tend thee, to attend
On nought but mischiefe not to be forgiu'n?
Standst thou not charg'd with both their crime & end?
If so; a world of Penitence must cleare
A sinne so base, perform'd at rate so deere.
And (O!) suppose you heare your captiue's cals,
Deepe groanes, and out-cries while in's bowels rag'd
An hell of he ate; yet moand but by the wals
Resounding but his griefe's cries vnasswag'd:
In whom the force of Nature (being yong)
Wrastled with paine, his torments to prolong.

As Life, and Nature had, with Bane, and Death
Cōspir'd, to make him feele more Deaths thā one;
So groan'd he stil, as Death would seise each breath
He fetcht for life; yet liu'd but still to groane:
“Yea, groane alone: and that, in hells of paine,
“Augments the griefe: nay, makes it more than raigne.
Hee tooke no meate: but in it Poyson tooke;
Nor Drinke he drank, but brewed was with Bane:
Yet, as if poyson had it selfe forsooke,
It ceas'd to kill, but yet grew more immane:
For, so it rag'd within him, that it made
His Heart-strings crack; yet did their breach euade.
Iustice (great Arbitresse of all that's done
In Time or Place) though outwardly but blinde
(Because shee knowes no persons) needs must run
Vpon thee blind-old, led thereto by Kind:
For, nought stands in her way, but down it goes
(Though high as heau'n) to hellish ouerthrowes.

Then deem I MERCY well prouides for such
As so offend, by Iustice, so to fall:
For, so, thogh for their crime, their soules do grutch
Yet haue they Time, and helpes more speciall:
Then others further off the stroke of DEATH,
To saue their soules, with losing well their breath.
That happie-haplesse Soule (the last of Three
That First were Well-misdone, for this misdeede)
Being bound to Death, yet spake as being free;
And praisd the Iustice that his death decreede:
So seem'd, to glorie in his death of shame,
Sith it did glorifie hie Iustice Name.
Had Grace met Arte and Nature, in his Head,
As Courage in his Heart, with Cunning met:
He might haue rul'de those that haue gouerned:
But rising with the Sommer-Sunne now set:
Did set with him, by whome hee did ascend:
Whence brightly falling, grac't a gloomy end.

A Friend of Faith, or Heau'ns most faithfull Friend
Still pray'd to know the number of his Dayes:
To be prepar'd the better for his Ende:
Then, hee that knowes his latest moment, stayes
On surer Ground, thogh neer Deaths horrid house,
Than they that stād on Rocks more dangerous.
A prease of People (prest to pray for grace
For him that dies) at heau'ns bright gates do beat:
And wings make of their Words to fanne the Face
Of Highest Iustice, so to coole her heate:
This was His priuiledge, that so did die,
Heau'd vp to Heauen, past reach of Infamie.
A violent-death, then, to the soule is mild;
But, on the BED of Death, most sterne is Hee:
Where oft he makes our Minds & Manners wild;
Then, Grace nor Nature with it doth agree:
But Hee (Al-wise, repos'd in Passions strife)
Held this strait Death, the easiest dore of LIFE.

The force of feare those succors (oft) betray
Which Reason offers; but this ill-good Man
No councell held with feare in Deaths affray;
But, in his Triall, tryde what Reason can
Affoord for fence, without distracted mood;
So, made his worst of Ill, his best of Good.
To fall from Fortune, sitting on her Knee,
From Wife and Children, and what else is deare,
Yet from the helpes of Reas'n not once to flee,
Is compleat Uertue; making Uice to cleare
Her way to GLORY through shames nether hell:
This Cast was ill; but, thus, he plaid it well.
So well, a Cast so ill is seldome plaid,
Scarse in a world of Time we meete with such:
Whose worth (too cheap imploid) in iudgmēt waid
Was found more deare then cleare on tryals Touch:
Abstracting from his fault, worth makes his fame
To fly to heau'n, to glorifie his shame.

If those in this sadde Playes Catastrophe,
Play their dire Parts, no worse: all Dignitie
Is lesse then is their Blisse, and gloryes-Sea,
Wherein, ore-whelm'd they shall still liuing dye:
“But Courage comes frō Heau'n; & it must giue
“That Worth, in Death, on which Fame still shall liue.
But t'is an Hell to all voluptuous hearts,
To leaue Youth, Beauty, Honors, Wealth, and all
That's deere to Sense, to play such dismall parts;
And from the height of State, with shame to fall:
“But, what of pure necessitie must bee,
“Must well be borne, to honor high-Degree.
For, publike-hate, though for the hatefull'st Cause,
Will soone be turn'd to Loue, by playing well
Unpittyed parts: Nay, it makes Iustice pawse
Ere doome them death, who (neere it) so excell.
Thogh Common-hate the great'st Offenders teares,
Yet it bewails their wel-born death with Teares.

For, though it burne, as quenchlesse: yet it is
Extinguisht quite, by seeing loth'd ones play
Beloued Parts, in Death, or Miseries:
Their Eyes (that hold their hearts) their hearts doe sway.
“A ruthfull Obiect, though most loath'd before,
“Is pittyed, when fell Spight can doe no more.
O Diu'll, how canst thou, (beeing, as thou wast
In thy Creation most Angelicall;
And but in Will, for one prowd Thought, disgrac't)
How canst thou ioy in so much griefe of all?
Why art so prest, but on meere Fraylties Spells,
For Mankindes plague, to leaue the nether Hells?
What Charmes and Incantations haue such strength
As frō those Hells to hale thee, there being bound
With Chaines of Darknesse, of the shortest length?
Lyes it in their words Sense, or in their sound?
No; tis no word of Reprobation can
Command thy Seruice, but to cousin Man.

Thou art a Spirit: and therefore canst thou looke
Into the Brest of NATVRE: and thence take
Her chiefest Secrets (from the darkest Nooke)
Or Loue, or Lust, t'enflame, enrage, or slake:
Thou canst by such make Puppets, tho of lead,
To strike Desire, in liuely'st Bodyes, dead.
Thou on the Bodyes oft of blessed Soules,
Hast leaue to vse thy pow'r in various kindes;
But, for theyr Good: else Hee thy pow'r controules
That guards their souls frō harm: frō ill, their minds;
Yet waking and asleepe, thou canst to sight
Produce but Shades, to make the Minde too light.
And Mindes so light, will lightly nothing weigh
Of Shame and heauyest Death, that lye betweene
Them, and their Ends: who make it but a Play
To drowne a Comedye (through hate and teene)
In Blood and Bane: such Turners were of late,
As turnd, vpō these Poles, such Spheares of Fate.

Can Witch-craft, in the Abstract, so bewitch
The Mindes of those of Minde and Meanes, to be
So base for Lucre, so to touch Shames Pitch
As still will cleaue to theyr Posteritie?
But Charmes can make no soules to sinne so sore,
But such as GRACE had left, for sinne, before.
Now (prostrate) let me, deer Liege, turne my speech
To thee, who in thy Iustice lookst' like God:
No such Crime spar'st thou; yet, stād'st in the Breach
Thy Iustice makes, to stay Heau'ns iustest rod:
So thou (like God) dost grieue, whē thou hast cause
To cut off those, whom thou hast made, by lawes.
And though thou lose their Bodyes with iust griefe,
To please thy iuster Iustice; yet, thy Care
(Deare Care!) to giue their fainting soules reliefe,
Yet Death, giues leisure: so, doost spoyle and spare,
In iust Ires grace: that (tho thou them forgo)
The HEAD, doth with the Members suffer so.

Drad Lord, I would, thy patience were not prou'd
So much with crimes of so immense extent;
And, that thou, sphear of all our State, wert mou'd
Vpon no aduerse Poles of discontent:
So, should thy lower spheares of rule, obay
But thine; and moue, as thine, their diffrent sway.
The Care's a Canker to thy sacred life
Thou hast to keepe thy compound people, one.
Twixt worlds of aduerse powrs are worlds of strife,
Which humane-powre can scarce in shew attone.
O, then, who weighs a Burden of such stresse,
But is opprest with weight past Heauinesse!
But we, (that lie as farre from wealth as warres)
In low obscuritie of state, do see
(With sight the more contracted) all the starres
That light to see thy cause of iealousie:
Whose oppositions, in thy spheare of Pow'r,
Oft giue, for which we grieue, thee cause to low'r

But, as an Arch, of many stones composd,
Would fall but that they one another let:
So, may their odds, in thy states Arch inclosd,
Make it more euen; so, more strength to get:
Though one Stone fall to ruine, let his place
Be soon supplyd by one of greater grace.
Then, the more weight of powre they do sustaine,
The firmer will the ARCH be, to vphold
Thine HONORS burden, folded in thy TRAIN,
And make thy state and stay more manifold.
So shall thy stay, when states re-chaosd lie,
Make thee great Steward to ETERNITIE.
Finis.

SPECVLVM PRODITORI.

This takes the vulgar Eare
That loues the plaine and cleare!
But, neither mine, nor those
That hugge proude Verse in Prose.

Kings , Gods on Earth, so call'd by Him of Heau'n,
How dismall is your Deities estate!
Who while you life do giue, are life bereau'n;
And oft, for too much loue, get too much hate:
Whose surest Forecasts, stand on sixe and seauen;
Which, with you (Soueraignes) subiect are to Fate.
What Diu'lls can enuie, then, such Deities,
Whose Heau'ns are hells, of short-sweet-miseries?
Toyle ye to shield their liues, that shoot at yours;
And make your selues, of Soueraigns, sou'rain slaues?

Spēding your Brains, & strengths, & precious howrs
As if your selues dig'd, for your selues, your graues
For, th' hollow subiect (graue-like) you deuoures;
Whom ye make hollow, oft with welfare's waues.
For, if ye fill Ambition, Spight, or Feare,
Ye fill the Sailes wil quite you ouer-beare.
Men-beasts, borne subiect, yet can neuer beare
Your births allotment! What? O what is it
That makes yee, like vile timber-wormes to weare
The Poasts sustaining you? What grace, or Wit,
Appears in facts, where your owne fals appeare?
Will ye needs rise, to fall? not (sure) still sit?
If needs ye will, foule be your fairest fall;
Sith ye would rise, by ouerthrowing All.
Cannot the ten times worse then ill successe
Of gracelesse Gowries worse, farre worse assay,
With heaps of horrors so your thoughts oppresse,
That these should freez your souls wt cold dismay.

Dāger & Death (ye heard) could not distress
Our heau'n holp King; who throgh both made his way.
For, kings are Gods, who with a frowne can make
The Arme of flesh, for feare, all force forsake.
Or know you not a crowne is of such weight,
That no disloyall hand can it transferre,
But crusht it is to nothing with it straight?
Cannot this thought your hands from this deterre?
On Treason doth an hell of horrors waite;
Which, in it selfe, against it selfe doth warre.
Then, that which in it selfe is at this stay,
Must fall (else Truth doth lie) and soone decay.
Conspirators haue nought but pale mistrust,
Sad thoughts and terrors euer them attending:
But, Princes, on their sides, haue subiects iust,
Their Guards, their Maiesties, their Lawes defending
(What hart dare, maugre al these, be vniust)
All these their powrs against the traitor bending:

Then how can Traitors be so ouer-bold,
When such great fears their harts do vnderhold?
Their tyred wits (though beaten night and day)
Can make no shift a traitorous life to saue:
The gultie conscience doth it selfe bewray;
And thoughts turmoild, no staid aduisement haue:
Feare strikes them so, that (tost) they canot stay,
But iudgement makes vncertaine as a waue:
The flowing streames of honied Eloquence
Can nere sustaine the weight of great offence.
Pure Innocents with vndefiled tongue,
By instinct of Nature, haue perswasiue powre:
But guilty ones, defilde with bloud and wrong,
Their faltring tongues, are euer most vnsure;
So full of Discords is Rebellions Song,
That it no eare in tune can ought allure:
Though Art aid Falshood, with her powrs, yet shal
Truth, naked, trip them; so they needs must fall.

The bended brow of Iustice, sore dismayes
The guiltie, though their wits in glory shine;
And fickle Feare their iudgement still betrayes,
Presenting strange Chimæras to their eyne;
Which so the soule with horror ouer-layes
And Reasons right discourse so wrests in fine,
That all that from the Minde or Mouth proceeds
Within it selfe, then, disagree must needs.
The passions of annoy more strongly worke
Within the mind then those from ioy proceeding:
Now, if sweet Ioys, in merry minds that lurke,
Do hinder Reason, strange distraction breeding,
Much more will feare of pains, all paines exceeding
Reason must then, of force, forsake the Helme,
When waues of woe the bodies barke orewhelme.
Who enter Treasons maze, are like the men
That runne too desperately into the Sea;

If they escape, it wil be iudged then
That they were fortunate the wracke to flee,
And out of Dangers mouth to come agen:
But if they perish, then it said will be,
They cast themselues in, to be cast away,
By desp'rate fore-cast, cause of their decay.
For, as an Arrow glanceth on a stone
For want of softnesse in the stone to stay it:
So treason lightly will be ouerthrowne,
Though for fit time, Wit willeth to delay it,
And keepe the same the while from all vnknown,
That likely God nor man can well bewray it;
Yet out it will, and like an Arrow glance
Vpon the foyling Flint, or hard mischance.
A blessed death, a cursed life excuseth;
(For, no man's truly blest before his end)
So, a curst death, a blessed life accuseth:
But, when that life and death, to death doth tend,

It seems the soule, life wilfully refuseth;
For, she in life, and death, doth but offend:
From such a life and death, grace keeps all those
That to Prides Naturals are mortal foes.
The more that Empire doth enlarge her bounds,
The more is Fortunes empire ouer it;
Who scorns to thrust at slaues, but kings she woūds
And on their Seats doth oft make slaues to sit:
And sitting there, in sport, she them confounds;
So, bandies kings, and slaues, as she thinks fit:
But, slaues are racket, kings are her hand-bals;
Which being greater, haue the harder fals.
[_]

Senec.

These seldom meet with siluer-hairs, though care
Doth (for that tincture) Time anticipate;
The Liege that lies on beds, that sumptuous are,
Sleeps more in feare than beggers at his gate:
Whom the gray morne hath seene high, past compare,
The blushing eu'n hath seen in abiect state.

A world of mouthes they feed, & courts they keep
Whose stabbing dreams do make thē start in sleep.
The purple robe is oft re-purpelled
With royall blood, that from the heart doth stream;
When homly rags (thogh rent) are nere made red
With th'owners bloud, sith they do range a reame
And yet not rule it, as the Sceptered.
These sleepe secure, in many a golden dreame,
While Princes lie on thorns of pricking feares,
That make their daies to interdict their yeares.
In toothsom'st dish the banefull baite doth lie;
And Treason diues into the sweetest wine;
At euery bit they feare her treachery, (their fine.
And doubt, each draught they drinke, they drink
O! if as through a glasse we might espy
The swarms of fears, and cares, their hearts confine
We would not stoope to gather vp a crowne,
If as the crowne, the cares must be our owne.

The princely Ports no sooner ope are set,
But diuelish Enuie glides through all vnseene:
But hates as hell, the Neat-heards Cabinet
Whilst (Princely Peasant, with his Sommers queen)
Hee frolicks it, as free from dread as debt:
And liuing so, a King himselfe doth weene:
But, if he erre, it is an error sweete,
To meet Kings thoughts, and not their cares to meete.
In Maple Mazer, or Beach-bowle hee quaffes,
And lifts it not to mouth with shaking hands:
His Loue and Hee, eats, drinks, and sleeps, & laffs,
And shee obeyes, and hee in loue commands:
Twixt them are neither Iealousies nor Chases,
For breaking Wedlock, or Subiections Bands:
But, they enioy Loue, peace, and merriment,
And therewithall, the Kingdom of Content.
They fear not Fortunes frowns, nor way her fawns;
Their great'st ambition is to liue to loue:

Much Coyn they need not, much less pretious pawns
That by a Cow can liue, and pleasures proue,
Yea, feede with her, on Sallets in the Launds,
In Weeds yclad, as homely spunne as woue;
Milke being their best meat, & sowr whay theyr wine,
And when they hunger, then they sup & dine.
They can no skill of States deepe policies,
Nor will they wade in deepes so dangerous:
This makes them liue so free from Tragedies
That are to Heau'n and Earth so odious:
They Actors are in Past'rall Comedies,
That tend to Loue, and Mirth harmonious.
O heauenly-earthly life, life for a King:
That liues with nothing, as with eu'ry-thing.
They seeldome passe the vnreturned wayes
That leade t'infernall loues Dominions.
Their silly Soule (with hopes assurance) stayes
On CHRIST his Crosse, & Faith's Conclusions:

They doo distaste the delicate Assayes
Of Schoolemens Craft, and nice distinctions:
Nature and Grace in silence guides them well,
Whilst Doctors deep, dispute thēselues to Hell.
Grace hates all sinne, with hate most exquisit;
But none, so much (though more, then much, the-least)
As shee doth pride; for, that distracts the wit,
Contracts the Soule to sinne, makes Man a Beast,
Confines Societie, alone to sit;
Makes will a Law, and wrongs the Worst and Best.
This is Ambition, this is damned Pride,
Which God, nor Man, haue patience to abide.
The steppes of Mans ascent, on Fortunes-wheele,
Must needs be slippery, sith it is so steepe:
The Topp's most wau'ring, ready still to reel;
The going downe, is like as in the Deepe
A Shippe goes downe, with ouerturned Keele;
When ore a mounting Billow shee doth sweepe:

And if the fall from High-estate be such,
How dreadfull is it then, to mount too much?
For, Dignitie on Uertue, grounded is.
Then, if the ground doe faile, and false become,
The more is built thereon, the sooner tis
Sinking to ground, and ruin'd all or some:
The more our Pow'r, the more of Peace we misse,
If Uertue aduerse powres doe not orecome:
That Enuy, which high pride did life-inspire,
Humility must kill, or make retire.
I knew a Man, vnworthy as I am,
And yet too worthie for a counterfeit
Made once a King; who though it were in game,
Yet was it there where Lords and Ladyes met;
Who honor'd him, as hee had bene the same,
And no subiectiue dutie did forget;
When to him-selfe he smil'd, and said, lo here
I haue for noght, what Kings doe buy so deere.

No odds there was in shew (and but in show,
Kings are too often honour'd) saue that he
Was but twelue gamesome daies to king it so;
And kings, more yeares of soueraigne misery.
His raigne was short and sweet, theirs long in wo.
He after liu'd: they, with or for theirs, die.
He had a tast of raigne, with powre to leaue;
They cannot tast, but life must take or giue.
Kings for the treasons to them offered
Must offer them that offer it, whereby
The body still may hold vp hie the head,
Lest otherwise they both too low might lye:
Yet by this meanes, blood, oft, with hate, is shed,
If bloud so shed, do fall or much, or hie;
But he without bloud did he behead his foes,
So made him friends indeed, of foes in showes.
He sate in state, that mirth, and loue did stay;
They sit in state that hate oft vndermines;

He, without feare, had some to take assay;
But they haue such, for feare of sodaine fines:
He poyson'd some (to play as kings might play)
But twas with Suger and perfumed wines:
He went with guards, yet stabbing feared not:
They go with guards, yet feare the stab or shot.
He could deuise with Ladies, if he could
Deuise with Ladies, without all suspect;
If they do so, they do not as they should,
For 'twill be sayd their honors they neglect:
He could command, and haue all as he would;
But their commands oft haue not that effect.
Then who had better Raigns, iudge all of sense,
Either a king indeed, or in pretence.
A conscience cleere out-dares Death to the face,
Laughing to scorne his greatest tyranny;
And with vnconquerd patience doth disgrace
His vtmost malice, spight, and villany:

She winneth place of Death, by giuing place,
And by her yeelding, getteth victorie:
Yea, triūphs ouer Death, through vertues might:
For Uertue liues, when Death hath spet his spight.
Neuer did Feare attend on Innocence:
She Wayters scornes, that with her dare not dye.
Though she from wrong and danger seeke defence,
And may (if well shee may) from eyther fly:
Yet is her Courage of that excellence,
That if shee meet them she dares both defie.
Then to be Innocent, is still to dare
Death, Hell, and Vengeance, yea all Deaths that are.
This makes the Prince his person to expose
To Pistoll, Poyson, Dagger, and the like;
Among them all (so arm'd) hee freely goes,
And starts not (as dismayd) when they do strike.
This make thē deem (deer harts) they haue no foes
Because they weene they rule without mislike;

And if some hellish hand them ouer-beare,
They die, as liue they did, without all feare.
Within their Count'nance, Mirth, with Grauitie
(Graue for their place & mirth, their grace to show)
In peace doe striue for the precedencie:
Both which so sweetly grace them as they go;
As makes the publike loue, on them to pry:
With Eyes, which teares of ioy (vnfain'd) ore-flow,
While Princely kindenesse doth it selfe imploy,
To ope like Floud-gates, into Seas of Ioy.
When the sterne Tyrant (with a folded Front,
And Eyes disturbed, through suspicious feare)
Doth starting stalke, as if Death did confront
His steppes, and to his Eyes did still appeare;
His Hand on Hilt hee beares, Death to affront:
Yet ghastly lookes, as hee still flying were;
And whē a Mouse doth crie, or Leafe doth shake,
Out goes the Dagger, yet with feare doth quake.

He feares his life, but more the second-death;
Which death, he doubts, will second death of life:
This makes him strait the dagger so vnsheath
T'incounter the first deaths approching knife;
Lest, being ouerthrowne, he should beneath
Still liue in strife, as he hath liu'd in strife;
The losse of Kingdome, life, and feare of that,
Makes him (as mad) to do he knows not what.
Who would a Scepter hold, in such an hell,
Like a commanding Fiend in horror still,
Where subiects, like his passions, aye rebel
So liue as Sou'raigne of a world of ill?
And in nought, but in naught, so to excell
Is God (as much as in man lies) to kill:
Which is the cause (as proofe hath often told)
It's hard to see an hellish Tyrant old.
Imbrude with blood, or else in poyson drencht,
Away wends he the way the others sent;

For with his bloud, his thirst of bloud is quencht;
So, with a plague, repaid what hee hath lent:
Nor shal his bloud, that flowes amaine be stencht,
Sith Heau'n and Earth against him still are bent.
“For, whē both heau'n & earth, pursues the spoyle;
“No place but Hell is left then, to recoyle.
Gods Armies march, some seene, but most vnseen;
Those seene, may be lookt to, but not lookt ore;
And how ere vile, Pride some of them may ween,
Yet men most high, are oft foyld by the low'r:
But th' vnseene Armies haue such Weapons keene
And pow'r to vse them, that all Flesh they gore:
Who are so slye, that no mans wisedome may
Their Ambushments auoyde, or them bewray.
For, can an Heart be wise that is profane?
(Nay, fleshly wise? wee will dismisse the Spirite?)
It cannot be; for, Wisedome's in the wane
When tis forsaken of the Heauenly light:

A crazed Soule, must needs be Wisedomes bane,
whose pow'rs wāt pow'r to vse their natiue might:
For, when the Soule's vnquiet through offence,
Her fumes blinde Iudgement, and Intelligence.
We may not doe ill, that thence good may spring;
Nor ceasse to do good, thogh ill thence may grow;
The Ill that growes from good, is no ill thing:
And to reape such, wee still much good shuld sow:
Its ill to haue Gods hate, with loue of King;
And worse, that hate to haue for loue more low.
Then to be good, in Death's to be secure:
And to bee ill, in life's to be vnsure.
The Sunne sees not a more detested thing
Than is a Traitor, whose fowle Crime is such
That they which loue the Craft, ye Crafts-mā sting
With deadly hate, and words that wound as much:
And he that would of other Crimes be King,
Abhorre, but once this loathed Crime to touch.

That Hand that can behead a Common-weale,
Must haue an heart, to helpe, of Flint or Steele.
And they that would transforme a Monarchy
(Confirm'd by many faire descents of Kings)
T'an headlesse misproportion'd Anarchy
(That Rule and Order to Confusion brings,
To th'end to giue Misrule more libertie)
Are most condemn'd, if not most damned things.
For, what Man can (though halfe a Diuell) see
All drown'd in Gore, to purple his Degree?
Traitor! ô word, of force to make a Man
Teare out his Eyes, that they see not the light!
Which All, with bitter Execrations, ban,
And at the very name, do spet in spight.
Traitor! ô gall! which no Gall suffer can,
Odious to Heau'n and Earth, to Day and Night;
The very Aire of such a loathed name,
The Ioynts of strongest Patience can vnframe.

What can the Hart of Man excogitate
More odious, or in nature, or in name,
Than Treason? which eu'n Hell it selfe doth hate,
Although it be aduantag'd by the same.
For Hell holds Traitors more degenerate
From Nature, then her Fiends; so, more to blame:
For Fiends, by nature, are most impious;
But Men most impious are most monstrous.
A Sou'raigns bloud is sacred, and of pow'r
To draw down Angels, from their glorious sphears,
With Vialls, full of plagues, on Realmes to powre,
(If it be spilt by spight) Nay Princes hayres
Are numbred, and who makes but one vnsure,
Shal feel that wrath, whose heat the moūtains mears:
O t'is a dreadfull thing but once to dreame,
In Physicke, to make Royall bloud to streame.
Tis Bloud of blouds; for, while it is bloud-warme:
And carries life with it through all the Veines.

It doth preserue the subiects blood from harme,
That cold of feares to freeze else strait constrains:
Then 'tis the life-bloud of a Kingdoms Arme,
Which, while it's liuely, her whole state sustaines:
O then how precious ought (in all mens eyes)
Such bloud to be wherein such vertue lies?
Words, but in Wormewood steept, ate too too weake
To blazon Treasons bitter tyranny;
None but soule-wounding words for it are meete,
Because it wounds the Soule of Soueraigntie:
Then Treason, thus, my Muse, thy guilt doth greete,
(Which is the quintessence of villany)
Curst be Thought, that thinks but on that Thought,
That thinks thou art not ten times worse than naught.

The Conclusion to Sir. Thomas Ouerbury.

Thou find'st more honor in th'vntimely Graue
Deere Ouerbury, then a King can haue
With all kings pow'r: for, they can giue no grace
Beyond the span of life; Poore spacelesse-space!

Then, blessed was thy death, how euer bannd
It might be deem'd by thee, for being ban'd:
Sith Death, by poison, did but reaue thy breath;
But with That poyson, thou hast poyson'd Death.
So, from his hand his weapon thou did wrest;
And, for thy safety, sheath'd it in his Brest.
Yet comes thine honor, though it reach thus hie,
Short of thy merit for loues-puritie;
And, for as much besides, as Wit and Art
Can value giue to any Head or Heart.
Thou wast a Pythias to an Anti-Damon,
Who, for thy true loue, prou'd to thee a Demon.
Had he bene Damon in integritie,
A King (perhaps) had made a Trinitie
Of friends with you; for, your loue-Angel-like
Had made him make that Body-politicke;
As whilom-did a Keisar in like case:
But three can nere make one, if one be base,
And two be deare; sith Dissimilitude
Dissolues the knot of Loues beatitude.

Fortune on thee, in him, did smile and lowre;
Smile in his fortunes, in thy wisedomes powre:
But lowr'd on thee, when he (false ladder) rose
For thee to climbe, to both your ouerthrowes.
He rose and fell from thee; and thou by him
Didst rise and fall: but thou, in bane didst swim
Past Læthe; and in bloud and blame he tydes
(As farre beyond, as shame, past shame, abides)
With winds of his owne sighes, without one teare
Of any ruthfull Eye, though nere so neere.
But, sith nought stayd him to thee, but the aire
Of words; who would ascend by such a staire?
Thou being on his brest, through want of stay
For thy worths-weight, from thee he fell away:
But, thou camst first to ground; and, with the fall,
Thy bowels brake, all-pickl'd with thy gall:
Thy Ghost, yet (if she know what mortals do)
Must needs exult; and haue compassion too,
To heare thy praises peald-out as they be;
And see such iustice done, on earth, for thee.

Yea, as thy Ghost had leaue, in wrathfull moode;
To surfet with thy foes delicious-blood,
Which frō the hie in place, still headlong, streams
Through thy late Soueraigns dearst of Diadems,
To fresh the flowres thereof, and her so cloy,
That she, as sicke therewith, is greeu'd with ioy.
So as thy shrill Vindictae's now do ring
With groanes about the Palace of the King;
As if thy Soule, in blisse, in some degree
Did Suffer paine with sufferers for thee.
And if she (plagu'd) in life did hell endure,
Through their close hate who did thy death procure,
T'is openly reueng'd, so home, that all
The world may see thy worth's-weight in their fall.
For, as pure gold best knowne is by the TEST
In fire: so, that deere vertue of thy Brest,
In flames of Loue, and fi'ry-tryals tride,
Doth make thy Worth, in greatnesse, far more wide
Than Time: for, when he (stretcht out) is laid forth
Thy glory shall entombe him in thy WORTH.
FINIS.
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