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University of Virginia Library

The Lady-Errant

A Tragi-Comedy

Cartwright, William (1611-1643)

THE LADY-ERRANT.

[Thus thy left hand the Mighty Stagyrite Supports]

To the Memory of the most Ingenious and Vertuous Gentleman Mr Wil: Cartvvright, my much valued Friend.

Upon Mr Cartvvright's Excellent Poems Now collected and published.

On Mr Cartvvright's Poems.

On the Incomparable Poems of Mr William Cartvvright, late Student of Christ-Church in Oxford.

On Mr Cartvvright's excellent Poems, now Collected and Published.

On Mr Cartvvright and his Poems.

On Mr William Cartvvright's excellent Poems, collected and published since his Death.

To the deceased Author of these Poems.

On Mr Will: Cartvvright's excellent Poems, Now collected and Published.

On the publication of the Posthume Poems of M. William Cartwright, sometime Student of Christ-Church in OXON.

To my dear Mother the Vniversity of Oxford, Upon Mr Cartvvright's Poems.

To the Stationer (Mr Moseley) on his Printing Mr Cartvvright's Poems.

Vpon the Ingenuous Author and his Poems.

On Mr Will: Cartwright's excellent Poems.

ON Mr William Cartvvright's excellent Poems.

Vpon Mr. Cartvvright's Poems, published long after his death.

In Memory of his honoured Friend Mr VVilliam Cartvvright.

To the Memory of his deceased Friend. Mr William Cartvvright.

In Memory of Mr William Cartvvright.

On Mr William Cartvvright's surviving Poems.

Upon the Poems and Plaies of the ever Memorable Mr Will: Cartvvright.

On Mr William Cartvvright's excellent Poems.

To the rich Memory of my Honoured Friend the Learned Author.

TO The Memory of Master Cartvvright.

On Mr William Cartvvright's excellent Poems, collected and published since his Death.

On Mr VVil: Cartvvright's excellent Poems, Collected and Published since his death.

To the Memory of Mr William Cartvvright.

On his Deceased Friend Mr Will: Cartvvright's Poems, now Collected and Published.

TO The Memory of my most deserving and peculiar Friend Mr Wil. Cartvvright.

On the Death of Mr. William Cartvvright, and the now publishing of his Poems.

On the Death of Mr Cartvvright, and the Life of his desired Poems.

On the Death of Mr William Cartvvright.

Upon Mr Cartvvright and his Poems.

On Mr Cartvvright's Incomparable Poems published after his Death.

On M. Will: Cartwrights Incomparable Poems.

Upon the setting forth M. Will: Cartwrights Poems.

To the Memory of Mr VVilliam Cartvvright.

To the Memory of the deceased Author Mr William Cartvvright.

On Mr William Cartvvright excellent Poems.

On Mr William Cartvvright's excellent Poems.

On M. Cartvvright and his Poems.

On Mr Cartvvright's Poems Now collected and Published.

On Mr Cartvvright's Poems.

To the Memory of Mr William Cartvvright, On the publication of these His Incomparable Poems

Upon the Memory of Mr William Cartvvright and his admirable Poems.

Vpon the Author's decease, and Poems.

TO THE Memory of Mr Cartvvright, and on his Incomparable Poems.

On the Death of Mr Cartvvright, and Resurrection of his Poems.

Upon Mr Cartvvright's Poems.

Vpon the Incomparable Poems of the Learned Mr Cartvvright.

To the Memory of the Incomparable Mr William Cartvvright.

Upon the Incomparable Poems of Mr William Cartvvright late Student of Christ Church in Oxford.

On the Death of my dear Friend Mr William Cartvvright, relating to the fore-going Elegies.

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On Mr William Cartvvright excellent Poems.

VVe who at Thy Departure could not mourn,
Have got up Rimes to welcome thy Return:
'Tis the World's fashion now, each Rising Sun
Makes Fooles as fast as Cowards to come on.
Thou hast restor'd us; we were since thy Fall
More lost by Comets, than no Light at all:
False Fires; from Wit and Learned Skill as farr
As the most Mountibank Astrologer.
Yet these so throng'd, so Epidemick grown,
Captains and Poets made up half the Town;
Scribling as madly as the other fight,
As if they try'd how scurvy they could write;
Who first themselves, and then the World, deceiv'd;
Which, possibly they might have Wit, beleev'd:
But now, when seen and air'd, they are undone;
So Moores grow black by coming into th' Sun.

But am not I so too? I raile and curse
This Riming Age, yet help to make it worse:
Can that be Wit in Me that's Fool in Them?
'Tis true: but yet when Cartvvright is the Theam
'Tis a hard thing not to have Poetry;
Hee's sadly dull that cannot write on Thee.

And yet we write not, though we do; for here
None will read Ours because thy Book's so near;
(And he that's never read, hath never writ;)
Tis dangerous to stand too near a Wit.

R. Mason.