University of Virginia Library

Letters to divers Persons.

1. To the Right Honourable John Lord Mohun Baron of Okehampton, my Uncle in Law.

My Lord, unto you now I have not writ
For Ostentation, or to boast my wit,
I know it weak; this onely is to shew
How willingly I'de pay the debt I owe;
Which though I cannot, I should be most rude
To let my Silence prove Ingratitude.
I must write therefore, though when I have done
I rest in silent Admiration.
Be you but pleas'd to reade, although tis true
I cannot draw a line deserveth you:
So gracious Kings will give their Subjects leave
To gratulate the Blessings they receive.
Let our most able Poets, such as can
Feign vertues for a well deserving Man,
Express with th'eloquence of all the Arts,
Half one of your Innumerable Parts:
I can but onely wonder, and profess
I know so little that I cannot guess.
It were an easier matter to declare
The heights and depthes that in each Science are:
All Labyrinthes that Dialect affords,
And (Critick-like) which are the hardest words.
Of you a Character would be a task
Mæonides and Maro would not ask,
If for preeminence they were to write;
It is so weighty, and their skill so slight.
The fluent Singer of the Changes would
In imploration for Aide grow old:
And yet they were the Miracles of Wit,
Through all Times famous, and renowned yet;
Honour'd by Grandees of the world, and by
The Supreme beauty of sweet Italy.
Witness the conquering Macedonian Prince,
Who wept for envy Homer's eloquence,
And mighty Poesie rais'd to the Stars
Achilles Fame; and thunder'd not his wars:
And great Augustus who could easily slight
All other things, t'admire rich Virgil's height.
Witness bright Julia too, who far above
The Roman Princes all did Ovid love.
Happy was Orpheus that in former times
(To admiration) did rehearse his rhimes:
So was Amphion too, that long ago
His matchless skill in poetry did show.
Had they been your Contemporaries, they
(Whom all men did, and Salvages obey,
And rocks and trees) with all their study ne're
Could pen one line worth your attentive ear.
Had great Æacides your worthes, he so
Had not effected Hectors Overthrow:
He had been slain fairly or liv'd; for great
And worthy mindes unworthy Actions hate.
Ajax was onely honour'd in the field;
Would you had pleaded for him, for the sheild,
The Ithacan disgrac'd away had gone,
And the blunt Souldier put the trophie on.
Comparisons are odious; I disgrace
You, to look on you by anothers face.
You Heaven-bred souls whom Phœbus doth inspire
From high Olympus with Poetick fire,
Bewail no more these ignorant wretched days;
This singular Lord will not withhold the Bays.
You Sisters that frequent the Thespian Spring,
And on Parnassus Io Pæans sing,
He hath been, and is now a Patron to you,
And in his own immortal Lays doth woe you.
Proceed my Lord, and let it be your Glory
No Chronicler dares put you in his Story:
For if your vertues verse cannot express,
I must believe that heavy Prose much less.
Again proceed, and let this move you to it;
Of your own worthes you must be your own Poet:
Or let your vertues rule Amazements throne,
To be expres'd by no Muse but your own:
And (lest from your own goodness you decline)
Pardon each fault that is in every line.

2. To my friend and Kinsman Mr. George Giffard, who cal'd his Mistress the Green Bird of France.

The Necromancy of your love doth change
Your Mistress to a Bird, so to 'estrange
Her name from vulgar ears, and to conceal
Those harmless passages of love you steal:
And by this means be your heart what it will,
Your tongue's Platonick that can keep this still.
But sure your judgement and most curious eyes
Fancie no bird, but that of Paradise,
The Phœnix, or a third of mighty worth;
A wonder and a Glory to the earth.
Jove's Eagle's too aspiring to invite
Your mind to love, or love to apetite:
The Doves of Venus you too gentle know;
And yours must give you cause to court and wo.
Minerva's Owl is onely for the Night;
And your fair Mistress doth become the light:
Saturnia's Peacock hath a gaudy train,
But feet too course such Colours to sustain:
Your Bird so curious is, she would disperse
The Clouds of prose, and make it run in verse.
She's not deriv'd from Magellanick Streights,
Where the most numerous Parat-Covey delights:
But from a richer Soyle, and may perchance
The Dolphin wake, to court the Bird of France:
But Cæsars self might conquer Gaul anew,
And with his victories not trouble you.
Your fair green Bird of France doth know her power
Superiour to the roughest Conquerour;
Whil'st she resists no fort so strong as she,
Whose victour must her own consenting be.
Nor martial engine, sword, or piece can move
Her from your love while she will be your love.
But if her Resolution alter, then
Her how to you will you retrieve agen?
Like the mad lover make your heart the lure,
And that will bring her, or she'l come no more.
Had Hymen lighted his auspicious Pine,
And you joyn'd happy hands before his shrine,
Then would not you and your admired love
The Changes imitate of amorous Jove,
Who like a Swan fair Læda did compress,
And on her got the Twins Tyndarides?
But why since Birds are of all colours seen,
Do you call her you most affect the Green?
The Firmament we see attir'd in blew,
But that too heavenly a Colour is for you.
The earth is green; and you do think most fit
That she be so, while she doth live on it.
The Sea is green, and Sea-born Venus was
Made beauties Goddess being most beauteous Lass:
And your fair One, whom you think Parallel
To her, you call the Green-Bird wondrous well.
All health I wish her, from each sickness free
But one, whose cure I do commit to thee:
If the Green Sickness she doth chance to get,
Your Love and Care of her may remed' it.

3. To the right honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon, &c.

My Lord, I have not silent been so long
For want of zeal, but fear'd to do you wrong:
Could I but draw a line deserv'd your eyes,
Your name should from the earth touch at the skies.
But as the meanest Pesants came before
The greatest Cæsars Rome did ere adore;
And as the gracious Gods no more despise
The poorest then the richest Sacrifice;
So I (my Lord) present my self to you,
And this slight humble verse unto your view.
Let our best Heralds, such as are most good,
Sail up the mighty Current of your blood,
And from the ancient and most glorious Stem
Of those that wore the English Diadem,
Blazon your pedegree, whil'st I admire
Your fair Conditions, sparks of honours fire.
To be born onely great, and not to be
Vertuous too, is, as we often see
The morning Sun rise clearly in the East,
Presently after be with Clouds opprest,
And (after one fair chearful blaze of light)
The day prove stormy till it mix with night.
But this concerns not you; you are as far
From all unworthiness, as is that star
That by the vertue of the Southerne stayes
This Mass of earth, and water in its place
From earth: And as those opposite Stars do poise
This Globe of earth, and Water midst the skies
Equally distant, in all places, from
The Heavens that round it in Circumference come.
Or to descend; As Mahomets tombe doth fix
By vertue of two Loadstones them betwixt;
So you (my Lord) for sweet Conditions known
Parallels to your high birth, stand alone
Unaim'd, and unarriv'd at, (to their ends)
Th'Amaze of all, and honour of your friends.
Accept this graciously my Lord! And know
'Tis but a Glimps of the respect I owe,
And but an Atome of the Service; For
Whole volumes would not be a Character.

4. To a Lady that was so like another that I cal'd her Picture.

I call you Picture, and by your Consent;
Although I know you want no Ornament,
Nor any curious Arts use, to supply
Any defect in you to any eye.
You then are none, and do want Colours so
As heaven wants clouds, or Summers earth wants snow;
Both which do both deform; And you therefore
To outvy heaven and earth admit no more.
You then no picture are, but unto those
That can become enamour'd on your clothes.
Vandike, Mitten, Geltrep, or Johnson may
Draw something like you; As a Summers day
May in the fleeting Clouds well counterfeit
Similitudes of things here, and not hit;
For 'tis impossible to Limn you right,
As 'tis the earthly Globe without a night.
To make your eyes were to amaze us all;
Make in your face two Suns rise; And to vail
Their glorious motions, no eclipses there
Can be more beautiful then your brown hair;
So doth the brightest star ofttimes repine
At it's own glory, and forbear to shine.
To name Apelles, and to wish him draw
Your Portraicture, could he perform't 'twere law
To future Limners; but your beauties height
All imitation doth transcend outright.
Your Lips are like the rosy buds of May;
And your even teeth the pearls of India;
Your mouth's the sweetest Magazin of bliss,
Where Cupids Dialect best spoken is.
Your loveliest Cheeks are the tru'st Hemispheres
Of beauty, triumphing above your Peeres.
This your first sitting is; when you sit next,
I shall be better pleas'd, and you more vext;
For I shall more admire your beauties store,
Though you be angry th'are so slubberd o're.

5. To my Mistress.

To love you (Lady) is but just; we know
We have good eyes and Judgments that do so.
Your beauties are no Common Ornaments,
But Rarities, and plac'd (with excellence)
By Natures curious hand; That could entice
Even Jove from all his Glories, and the Skyes;
Make him reject his full triumphant way
O're Gods and men, and thunder cast away;
Depose himself from high Olympus, leave
Amaz'd the heavenly Deities, and beneath
Retire himself on earth to gaze on you,
More wonderful then all the Goddess Crew;
Make him forsake his stately Queens embrace,
Wise Pallas eyes, and amorous Venus Face,
His draughtes of Nectar fil'd by Ganymed,
And the sweet Lessons by Apollo plai'd;
His sister Juno had not been his Queen,
If you the statelier beauty he had seen.
His daughter Venus had not been enstal'd
Goddess of love, but you the Goddess cal'd:
Nor had Minerva (with the fair gray eyes)
Been crown'd for wisdom 'bove the Deities,
Had Jove heard your discourse; your words do fall
With such a ravishing force upon us all.
Immortal Phœbus that with glorious beams
All Nations lights, and gilds all Ocean streams;
In all his Progress yet did never view
A beauty so supreme, and bright as you.
Had Phaeton liv'd till now, and skilful been,
He would have given his Chariot unto him,
Left the Star-chequer'd Court, and (from the skies)
Alight on earth in some unus'd disguise,
To court your smiles, more precious then his throne,
And all the glories that attend thereon;
And (in your company) swear by a kiss
He never was before in any bliss.
Your eyes are not the Sun and Moon; for they
Are equal lights, and both do rule by day:
Your Nose is such as doth become your face
Better, then the best other in that place.
Your mouth exceedes the breaking of the day;
For that is sweet when Night drives light away.
Your teeth surpass the milky way in Heaven,
More white then it, more wonderful, more even.
Your lips are smooth as Chrystal, red as is
Pure abstract redness, blessedness to kiss.
Your bosom's a new paradise of joy,
And undiscover'd to the vulgar eye.
Your hidden beauties do as much excell
All, all Art can invent, and all tongues tell;
As doth your body (magazin of joyes)
Exceed your clothes seen onely by our eyes.
But were this all, you onely did present
A curious Outside, picture, Ornament:
Your mind (brave Lady) is a thing above
All Objects yet of all the past worlds Love:
It is so gentle, sweet, and unconfin'd
In goodness, that it makes the body, minde:
Like the Philosophers Stone that mixing with
Worse metals, doth to them gold-substance give.
Let them therefore that do not wonder, when
They have seen you, be counted beasts not men.

6. To the Lady M.

Best of your Sex, and handsomest to boot,
I here present you with no marriage-suit;
My Fate is fix'd, and I contented am,
Although sometimes I court another flame.
I dare not wish a wrong to your desert;
(Far be such thoughts for ever from my heart)
Yet must not be so cruel to my self,
As not from you to covet such a wealth,
Arabia's rich perfumes are nothing to,
Nor all the Spices all the East can show.
Sure my desire can be no Crime in me,
Nor your Consent can your dishonour be:
Else all the ancient Poets did devise
To cheat the modern with most Stygian lyes.
Wherefore should Jove neglect Saturnia's Love,
And all his endless happiness above?
Assume so many various Shapes t'enjoy
With humane beauties sensuality?
And glorious Phœbus cast his Rayes away,
With our fine Lasses here below to play?
Although grim Pluto the Infernal flames
Endures; his rage Proserpin's beauty tames.
Cynthia, whose chastity each Grecian pen,
And Roman wit, renowned left to men,
Victorious Love in triumph trampled on,
And made her wanton with Endimion.
These high examples we may imitate;
For Deities did nothing we should hate.
They, whom all nations for Heroick soules,
And vertuous Actions, above the Poles
Have enthroniz'd, did nought we should condemn:
And therefore (Lovely One) let's follow them.
Strict Hymens rules wherefore should we obey,
Which on themselves the Gods did never lay?
Is it more honour to observe the lives
Of surly Cato's then the Deities?
Away with fear; 'Tis reason prompts you to
What I desire, and love, me what to do:
And therefore do not blush, unless it be
Because so many will envy thee and me:
Yet (Madam) know (after so much exprest)
I honour vertue, and have writ in jest.

7. To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton.

I wonder (Cousin) that you would permit
So great an Injury to Fletcher's wit,
Your friend and old Companion, that his fame
Should be divided to anothers name.
If Beaumont had writ those Plays, it had been
Against his merits a detracting Sin,
Had they been attributed also to
Fletcher. They were two wits, and friends, and who
Robs from the one to glorifie the other,
Of their great memories is a partial Lover.
Had Beaumont liv'd when this Edition came
Forth, and beheld his ever living name
Before Plays that he never writ, how he
Had frown'd and blush'd at such Impiety?
His own Renown no such Addition needs
To have a Fame sprung from anothers deedes.
And my good friend Old Philip Massinger
With Fletcher writ in some that we see there.
But you may blame the Printers; yet you might
Perhaps have won them to do Fletcher right,
Would you have took the pains: For what a foul
And unexcusable fault it is (that whole
Volume of plays being almost every one
After the death of Beaumont writ) that none
Would certifie them so much? I wish as free
Y'had told the Printers this, as you did me.
Surely you was to blame: A Forreign wit
Ownes in such manner what an English writ:
Joseph of Exeters Heroick piece
Of the long fatal war 'twixt Troy and Greece,
Was Printed in Cornelius Nepos Name,
And robs our Countreyman of much of 's fame.
'Tis true; Beaumont and Fletcher both were such
Sublime wits, none could them admire too much;
They were our English Polestars, and did beare
Between them all the world of fancie cleare:
But as two Suns when they do shine to us,
The aire is lighter, they prodigious;
So while they liv'd and writ together, we
Had Plays exceeded what we hop'd to see.
But they writ few; for youthful Beaumont soon
By death eclipsed was at his high noon.
Surviving Fletcher then did pen alone
Equal to both, (pardon Comparison)
And suffer'd not the Globe, and Black-Friers Stage
T'envy the glories of a former Age.
As we in humane bodies see that lose
An eye, or limbe, the vertue and the use
Retreats into the other eye or limb,
And makes it double; So I say of him:
Fletcher was Beaumonts Heir, and did inherit
His searching judgement, and unbounded Spirit.
His Plays are Printed therefore as they were,
Of Beaumont too, because his Spirit's there.

8. To my Son Mr. Thomas Cokaine.

You often have enquir'd where I have been
In my years Travel; and what Cities seen
And stai'd in: of the which therefore (in brief)
I (for your satisfaction) name the chief.
When four and twenty years, and some moneths more
Of Age I was, I left our English Shore:
And in a thousand six hundred thirty two
Went hence, fair France and Italy to view.
At Roy July the sixteenth we took Ship,
And on the seventeenth did arrive at Deipe,
Henry the fourths secure retreat; where one
Night having lain I rode next day to Roan;
Thence in a Coach I did to Paris go,
Where then I did but spend a day or two.
Thence with the Lions messenger went thither,
And pass'd through Mont-Argis, Mollins, and Never.
In two days thence we did to Cambray get,
A City at the foot of Eglebet:
At Maurein I din'd, and six days spent
Among the Alpes with high astonishment.
There dreadful Precepice, and horrid sound
Of water, and hills hid in Cloudes I found,
And trees above the Clouds on Mountains top,
And houses too; a wonder to get up.
On Mount-Sinese's top I did ride o're,
A smooth, and pleasant Plain, a League or more:
Upon the which a large Fish-pool there is,
And one o'th Duke of Savoy's Palaces:
At the Plains End, a little Chappel, and
A pretty Inn do near together stand.
That night we did descend 'bove half the way,
Where first we heard Italian spoke, and lay.
Next morn we down to Susa rode, full glad
When Mount-Sinese we descended had:
And that same night to Turin came, where we
Staid but a day the Beauties of't to see.
There we took Coach for Millaine, and (by th'way)
A Dinners time did at Vercelli stay,
And at Novara lay a night, and stai'd
But at great Millaine one; such hast I made:
And but at Crema one, and by the Lake
Of stormy Garda did a dinner take.
Through the low Suburbs of high Bergamo
I rode, and that night did to Brescia go,
For works of Iron fam'd; And having past
Thorow Verona, by Catullus grac't,
Did at Vicenza dine, so forward went
Through Padoa, and (on the banks of Brent)
Saw many Palaces of pleasant Site,
And to the rich fam'd Venice came that night.
Thence (having stai'd there half a year) did go
Unto Ferrara by the river Poe,
Saving some four miles, where a Coach we took,
When Phaetons fatal River we forsook.
I at Ravenna din'd, Rimmini lay,
And the next Night did at Ancona stay;
A long days journey, wherein we betime
Pesaro rode through, did at Fano dine,
For hansome women fam'd; And (in our way)
Rid neer small, well-wall'd Siningaglia.
The next day at Loretto din'd, and there
View'd the Fair Church, and House fam'd every where:
Thorow long Recanati rode, and so
To Macerata in the Even did go.
Next day I din'd at Tolentin, and was
It'h Church of their renown'd Saint Nicholas.
Foligno and Spoletto having past,
Terni, and Narni, took a Nights repast
Within Otricoli, I the next day
Din'd at Rignano 'ith' Flaminian way:
And in the Evening afterwards did come
Thorow the Port del Popolo to Rome;
Where what the holy week, and Easter could
To strangers view afford, I did behold:
Where that old Cities wonders I did view,
And all the many Marvels of the new.
Three weeks I there made my abode, and then
For Naples took my travels up agen:
Of all Frascati's Wonders had a sight,
And thence unto Velletri rode that night;
At Terrachina lay the next. Then through
The Kingdom pass'd at Mola, took a view
Of Old Gaeta, thence to Capua rode,
Where onely I dinners time abode.
So I to Naples came, where three weeks stay
Made me the wonders thereabouts survey.
I at Puzzolo was, there cross'd the Bay
(Fam'd for the bridge of proud Caligula)
To Baja, and that day a view did take
Of Aniana, and Avernus Lake.
The mortal Grott was in, and Sepulchre
Which murther'd Agrippina did interre:
Was in Sybilla's Cave, and on the Ground
Cal'd Vulcans Forge, yielding an hollow sound.
At Pausalip pass'd through that hollow path
Which Virgil for its primest Glory hath.
These and the rest beheld: One day got up
On evermore smoking Vesuvius top;
Vesuvius that two years before did throw
Such death and damage upon all below:
Which burnt up grass, and trees did make appear;
And Torre Griego that did stand too near.
Above three weeks I did at Naples stay,
Then (in a Galley) went to Genoa;
Which (in it) an Embassador did bear
To th'Cardinal Infante landed there,
Sent by the Vice-Roy to salute his hands,
Going t'be Governour oth' Netherlands.
I there remain'd but a few days, but found
A vessel that was for Marseilles bound;
I in it thither pass'd, but by the way
Did at Savona land, and dinner stay.
I at Marseilles but two dayes abode,
And the next after to Avignion rode.
I din'd at Orange, and lay at Vienne,
And so to Lyons did return agen,
There stai'd a day, or two; and then did ride
Unto Roana on the Loyers side:
About three days and nights along that streame
We went by Boat, till we to Briack came.
There we did leave the River, and next morne
Unto Mount-Argis did again return.
The morning after we from thence did go,
And lay that Night at pleasant Fountain-Bleau.
Thence we to Corbiel went, and (on the Seine)
To Paris thence by Boat did come again.
There I above two moneths then made a stay;
Save on Saint Dennis wonders spent a day.
After which time I went to Amiens,
There lay one night, and went to Calice thence.
As my stay serv'd, what ever was of Fame
Or note I visited where ere I came.
Four days I was in Calice, then cross'd over
The Sea in eight hours space, and came to Dover.