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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 Cartvvright's Poems.

They that make choice of Prose, and think what's writ
In Verse is cheap, and easie kind of Wit,
May blush and mend: here's higher Sense and Words
Than all their low-born History affords:
Such as at once may please and teach the Reader,
Pindar and Aristotle bound together:
A Wit that scorn'd to fill up Sense with Rime,
Or to translate old Ends to modern Time;
Cartvvright ne'r skulk'd in a worn Common-place,
But in plain Field at sharp Wit shew'd his face;
Nor on one line did a whole Twelve-month stand,
Like the French Saint, his head was in his Hand,
Ready, and clear, what He would write he knew,
And made his Readers understand it too:
He never tumbled out wild raunting things,
As they who would seem lofty (without wings)
Fine Pipkin-Giants, who can stalk about
Sometimes with Sense, and oftener without;
Who when they come to years, blush and give o'r,
Condemning all themselves had writ before;
No, his learn'd Phansie still was full of Light,
First study'd how, and then began to write;
Not a false Line, nothing without the Rule,
Nor the grave Dull-man, nor the giddy Fool,
But full and proper, all as best befits;
The worst of daies enjoyes the best of Witts.

T. P. Baronet.