University of Virginia Library

Scen. 7.

Celerinus, Gervoron, Burnomoy: the Funerall of Burgargo passeth over the Stage, with his Scutcheon, Armour, Heralds, with Flags, Torches, and Mourners.
Cel.
Let earth kiss th'corps with sorrow, and rest you!
Could potent strength, or magnanimous deeds,
Bidding defiance to envy, spite and force;
Solemn confirm'd to Jove in haughty sky,
Or vertues Off-spring or the Nymphs of th'maine,
Save this same mortallman from being slain;
Then fortune had conquer'd death, and thy soul
Still liv'd with us: but we may curse the fates
With more hatred vows, and not lament thy
Rape so to dispair, because Mars honour'd so
Thy Royall valour, dying like a Champion:
The scraggy fleshless bone; man, durst not bring,
Or put to sight, a sheet to wind thee in,
Had not first glory, a rich Garland hold,
To crown thy merits, fram'd of brandish gold,
The Country laments thy fall, and thy King too,
My subjects to thy Herse doth make a bow,
Giving the praise and honour of the day,
Lauding thy name, and crowning thee with bay;
But now the Cypress must take place for it.


Elegies Song.
Hector was famous for War,
Achilles did excel him far;
Scipio was valiant stout,
Hanibal put him to rout;
Ulysses knew to handle Lance,
Ajax did above advance;
Turnus fought well at a field,
Æneas him forc't to yield;
Priamus had kingly power,
Agamemnon him brought lower;
Hercules did valiant acts,
Alexander did great facts;
Paris was a valiant soul,
Burgargo doth these controul;
Hector was no man to him,
Achilles knew nothing in;
Then fall in pieces thou earth,
Weep thy selfe into a dearth;
Scipio he was not stout,
Hannibal knew nothing to't;
Then let us all mourn atune,
To this soul that is here slewn;
Ulysses held not a sword,
Ajax he knew not a word;
Then lament this down-throw fall,
That is hapn'd to us all;
Turnus may be termed foul,
Æneas knew not his soul;
Then break forth into a maine,
Shower tears as if 'twere rain;
Priamus had no hand in war,
Agamemnon knew no jar;
Then send rumour to the skie,
And make thick clouds with our cry:
Hercules was child in shew,
Alexander ne're like knew;
Then we'l mourn our selves to death
'Cause he is bereav'd of breath;
Paris he was not a man,
Burgargo did all with stand;
Then we'l make both hills and dales
Know the losse of all us males.

Cel.
The faculty of penetrating grief,
Surrounds the brave Idea of all joy;
The sable dressings of her mournfull dayes.
Draws a curtain betwixt our eye and mirth,
The body of Burgargo must be interr'd,
And valiant deeds dies with that soul;
For Julius Cæsar when he conquer'd Troy,
Ne're knew such deeds as he doth here imploy,
All are not worth a nomination to
His rare atchievements.

Bur.
Let all their barbarous words bring hail with them
Inviting Æolus, to make a tempest roar;
Yet those we would whistle by as a jear,
For all that, Burgargo's gone.

Cel.
Thy soul doth crush all pomp in infamy,
Let not rage spend the courage of your hearts,
You are, my Lords, my onely Lords I have,
The Scythian Wolves ne'r war'd amongst the flocks,
As your two valours did amongst your foes.
My other Lords are took for sacrifice,
To that hellish Queen Adrinemia;
Yet we will grapple for the reason of't,
When Lawes are settl'd, and the havock quell'd,
Prolong your journey to the silent grave,
For triumph of the Corps and Funerall;
And let all Poets use their brains and pens
In praise of him and pomp of buriall.

Bur.
My Leige, your will's fulfill'd.

Exeunt.