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Colston i£ Son, Printers, Edinburgh. CONTENTS. PAGE Prefatory Remarks, .... vii-xlvi APPENDIX. — I. — Extract from Letter. — Locke to Carleton, xlvii II. — Mr Lithgowe's Bill of Charges in the Mar- shalsey, . . . xlvii III. — Supplication of Aquila Wykes, . xlviii IV. — Bond of Wm. Lithgow in £200, for good behaviour and appearance before the Council when required, &c. . xlix V William Douglas, ... 1 VI. — Patrick Hannay, ... lii I. — The Pilgrimes Farewell to his Natiue Countrey of Scotland, 16 18. II. — Scotland's Tears in his Countreyes Behalf, 1625 III. — Scotlands Welcome to her Native Sonne and Soveraigne Lord King Charles, 1633. IV. — The Gushing Teares of Godly Sorrow, 1640. V. — A Briefe and Summarie Discourse upon that Lamentable and DreadfuU Disaster at Dun- glasse, 1640. VI. — Scotlands Parasnesis to her Dread Soveraign King Charles the Second, 1660. Prefatory Remarks. MONGST the remarkable characters that figured during the reign of the first James and his unfortunate son, William LiTHGOW occupies a prominent position. He was the first Scotsman who has left a record of his travels in foreign lands, and his adventures are so varied and romantic, that his personal narratives still possess attraction to those readers, who, despite of his inflated and obscure style, have the courage and perseverance to peruse them. He has been compared to Tom Coryate, whose " Crudities" are deservedly still held in esteem by the curious, and undoubtedly there is a considerable resemblance between the two Worthies ; — but although the English traveller is decidedly the most amusing, his Scotish contemporary has the advantage of recounting more startling adventures, and more hair-breadth escapes. His apprehension, de- tention, and torture by the Inquisitors in Malaga ; and the narrow chance he had of not figuring in an auto da fe — a favourite pastime of the holy fathers in those days of fiery zeal, and one much patronized by Spanish Royalty — would afford a fitting subject for a romance, which would eclipse the horrors of Mrs Radcliffe, and leave her "Italian" with all its inquisitorial terrors, far behind. Mr Brockett, in the preface to his reprint of Lithgow's " Siege of Newcastle" * asserts that the Author was originally bred a " Tailor," * Newcastle, 1820. viil Prefatory Remarks. and if this be correct, the fact is remarkable, for Lithgow had received an excellent education, was well versed in classical literature, and was much esteemed by persons in high places both in England and Scotland. That he was a native of Lanark is known from his own statement, and that his father was a Burgess of that ancient town is proved by the retoiirs, where, on the 29th May 1623, there is this entry: — " Wilhelmus Lythgow, heres Jacobi Lythgow Bvu-gensis de Lanark." There was a small estate in the parish of Lanark, which, for a very considerable period owned the Lithgows as proprietors. It was held in feu of the Carmichael family, and was called Boathaugh. This property was alienated to the Bonnington family about the middle of last century, by the grandfather of William Lithgow, Esq. of Stanmore, who still possesses the burial place of the family, and the tradition is that William was of the Lithgows of Boathaugh. In the beginning of the travels, Lithgow condescends to inform the readers of the causes which induced him to go abroad. This, however, he does in a very obscure and mysterious maimer. He writes : — The reason " To satisfie the world in my behalfe as touching my travells, I sin- whv the Author begun merely protest, that neither ambition, too much curiosity, nor any re- 18 ravels. putation I ever sought from the bubling breath of breathlesse man (whose defective censure inclineth, as instigation or partiality, moveth his weake and variable opinion) did expose me to such long peregrina- tions and dangerous adventures past. But the proceeding whereof, thousands conjecture the cause, as many the manner ; Ten thousand thousands the effect ; The condition reserved, I partly forbeare, to penetrate in that undeserved Dalida wrong ; and reconciled times pleading desistance, moderate discretion inserteth silent patience." In another passage Lithgow more fully, but almost as unintelligibly, refers to the original cause of his peregrinations : — " And thus have I in the late days of my younger years beene grievously afflicted ! Ahj yea, and will more, than disastrous injuries over-clowded, O heavy Prefatory Remarks. ix underpropd wrongs. But hath not the like accident befalne to man before ? Yea, but never the like condition of murther : Nay, but then preponderate seriously this consequence. May not the scelerate hands of foure blood-shedding wolves, fairly devoure, and shake in pieces one silly stragling lamb ! Yea, and most certaine, that unawares, the harmless iimocent unexpecting evill may suddenly bee surprized by the ambushment of life-betraying foes : All this I acknowledge, but whereupon grew this thy voluntary wandering and unconstrained code ? I answere, that being young and within minority in that occurrent time, I was not only inveigled, but by sedusements inforced, even by the greatest powers then living in my country to submit myselfe to arbitrement satisfaction and reconciliation. But afterwards growing in yeares, and understanding better the nature of such unallowable re- dresses and the heinousnesse of the offence, I chosed rather, voti causa to seclude myselfe from the soyle and exclude my relenting sorrows to be entertained with strangers than to have a quotidian ocular in- spection in any obvious object of disastrous misfortune ; or perhaps any vindicable action might from an unsettled rancour bee conceived. O ! a plaine demonstrate cause and good resolution : for true it is, that flying — the flying from evill, is a flying to grace ; and a godly patience is a victorious freedome, and an undaunted conquerour over all our wrongs. Vengeance is mine saith the Lord, and I will repay it. To this I answere, mine eyes have seen the revenging hand of God upon mine adversaries, and these night-gaping foes are trampled under foot ; while I from strength to strength, doe safely goe through the firey tryall of calamities." The author of a critique on Lithgow's Travels, in the "Retrospective Vol. XI., Review^ commenting on this passage, which he characterises as very ^' "^" obscure, infers that the traveller " would give us to understand that political reasons induced him to fly from evil at home to seek grace abroad." This assumption is not supported by the text, and it is not easy to see how the onslaught of four blood-shedding wolves on one X Prefatory Remarks. " silly stragling lamb " can be converted into a political squabble. The reviewer overlooked, too, the remarkable words " that vmdeserved Dalida wrong," which would lead to a somewhat different conclusion, if the word Dalida be read as Dalila, which we suspect it must be ; for Lithgow had a very strange way of dealing with words, so much so, that his volume of travels, which otherwise would be, even in this critical age, a very amusing book, is so much disfigured by his repulsive style, that it requires more patience to wade through it than falls to the lot of most readers. Now the term " Delilah" was used to designate a deceitful wanton. Minshew, in his very valuable folio published in 1628, includes the word in his dictionary, — thus, "Delilah or Dalilah nomen meretricis quam Samson deperiit, dicta* a Dalai, i. exhausit, ex- haustus fuit, sunt enim meretrices lupse, voragines, abyssi, putei, fouese, Scyllae, Charybdes, mare, lues adolescentium, quorum loculos exhauriunt ipsumque adeo sanguinem." Minshew then refers to Judges xvi., 4 to 21. The natural interpretation to be put upon the preceding quotations is, that the author, when in nfiinority, had been victimized by some Dalilah, and had been assaulted to the effusion of blood by some of her admirers or relatives. The tradition in the Lithgow famity coun- tenances this supposition, if not to the full, at least to a great extent. The present representative of the Lithgows of Boathaugh, and grand- son of the gentleman who sold the lands, states that the traveller was understood to have been of that stock. According to the understand- ing of his predecessors, the traveller had contracted an intimacy with a daughter of the Laird of Bennington, and the lovers having been caught by the young lady's brothers, they were so indignant that they used the unfortunate youth in the most barbarous manner, and cut off his ears. As he could apparently in those times get no redress — for the female is represented to have been of a powerful family — he * From the Hebrew. Prefatory Remarks. xi left Scotland for years. The vexation was increased by the outrage haying become public, and the people so far from sympathising with him, ridiculed him as " Cut lugged Willie." In further evidence of the tradition, Mr Lithgow of Stanmore, in- formed the writer of these observations, that the grandfather of Dr. Newbigging, the eminent Edinburgh physician, when mentioning this story, stated that the house where this abominable act was perpe- trated had become his property, and was well known by reason of the outrage committed in it. Generally speaking, family repute is to a certain extent evidence, and it has been admitted, at least, " de bene esse," as the English lawyers have it, in many cases of pedigree, even by that most suspicious of all tribunals, the House of Lords. The only material difficulty is, to apply the epithet of Dalilah to a respectable woman. Giving due weight to the natural and just anger of the injured youth against the brothers, there can be no excuse for maligning the sister, and calling her by the name of the deceitful mistress of Samson. Taking Lithgow's own statement in connection with the tradition, the truth probably is, that having had the misfortune to form a con- nection with a female of higher position than his own, whether pure or impure cannot now be ascertained — the liason had been dis- closed in some way or other to her brothers, who caught the two offenders in the house in Lanark where they were accustomed to meet. That their victim believed, at least in after years, he had been betrayed by her, may explain why he applied the offensive epithet to his lady love. The exact period of Lithgow's birth has not been ascertained, but as the outrage upon his person was perpetrated when he was a minor, and as he left the place of his birth shortly afterwards, there are reasonable grounds for presuming that it took place between 1580 and 1590. On the 7th of March 1609 Lithgow left Paris for Italy, having previously, as he informs us, taken two voyages to the Orcades and Shetland Isles, and after surveying, "in the stripling age of his B xii Prefatory Remarks. adolescence," Germany, Bohemia, Switzerland, and the low countries. Supposing he was twenty-four years of age in 1 609, the time of his nativity may be fixed in 1585. Upon Lithgow's return to Great Britain he gave to the world the first fruits of his travels. This very rare edition, in small 410, was printed in London in 1614, and the only copy that has been traced is the one formerly in the library of the late George Chalmers (No. 695), which was purchased by Mr Thorpe for the late William Henry Miller of Craigintinny. In the Sale Catalogue the following note was appended to the entry : — " This edition is not mentioned by Lowndes. Ben Jonson assisted Lithgow with money for his travels, and S. Grahame, author of ' The Anatomie of Humors^ prefixed verses to his book." The "second impression" was printed at London in 1616, with the following commendatory Poems prefixed : — I . To my deere friend, Countriman and Condisciple, William Lithgow. Rest Noble Spirits in your Native Soiles, Whose liigh-bred thoughts on deare-bought sights are bent ; Renowned Lithgow by his brave attempt Hath eas'd your bodies of a world of toyles. Nor like to some, who wrongfully retaine Gods rarest gifts witliin themselues ingrost. But what thou hast attain'd with care and cost. Thou yieldst it gratis to the world againe. Vpon the Bankes of wonder-bending Glide, To these designes thy heart did first assent ; One way, indeed, to give thy selfe content. But more to satisfie a world beside. Prefatory Remarks. xiii Thy first attempt in excellence of worth. Beyond the reach of my conceits confinde. But this thy second pilgrimage of minde. Where all thy pains are to the world set forth In Subject, Frame, in Methode, Phrase, and Stile, May match the most vnmatched in this lie ; But this renownes thee most, t'have still possest A constant heart within a wandring brest. Robert Allen. 2. To his most affectionate friend, W. Lithgow. No Arabs, Turkes, Moores, Sarazens, nor strangers. Woods, Wildernesse, and darke vmbrag'ous caues. No Serpents, Beasts, nor cruell fatall dangers. Nor sad regrates of ghostly growing graues. Could thee affright, disswade, disturbe, annoy To venture life to winne a world of ioy. This Worke, which pompe-expecting eyes may feed. To vs, and Thee, shall perfect pleasure breed. W. A. The verses by Robert Allen are graceful enough. The lines signed W. A. are of a magniloquent character, and somewhat resemble the productions oi Sir William Alexander, afterwards Earl of Stirling. Of this edition, which is almost as rare as the preceding one, there is a copy in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates. In 1 6 1 8 there issued from the press of Andro Hart, at Edinburgh, " JTje Pilgrimes Farewell, to his Natiue Countrey of Scotland." This interesting tract in verse has now been for the first time reprinted from a copy in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates. The wood- xiv Prefatory Bemarks. cut of the author on the back of the title, we believe, is the earliest portrait of the eccentric " Pilgrim." It was unknown to Granger,* who was aware only of the one which' occtirs in the first complete edition of his travels, published at London in 1632, and represents Lithgow in his Turkish dress, with his staiF in his hand. Allusion has already been made to the seizure of Lithgow by the Inquisition at Malaga, and to the deeply painful but exciting account of his subsequent sufferings, and tJtimate escape. A separate account has been reprinted in Morgan's "Phtxnix Britannicus" and is given at length in the edition of his travels, to be immediately noticed. Upon returning to England in his mangled state he was naturally the object of great commiseration, and by the order of the " sapient " monarch, he was ordered to be carried to Theobald's, that his Majesty might be an eye witness of his " martyred anatomy.'' The Court crowded to see him, and his Majesty sent him at his own ex- pense twice to Bath. Gondomar promised to obtain suitable repara- tion, but without the slightest intention of redeeming his promise. When the clever but unprincipled ambassador was about to leave England, Lithgow encountered him in the presence chamber, and was not sparing of his reproaches. This war of words was followed by blows, and as the traveller has it, the ambassador " had his fistula con- trabanded with his fist."t For this offence Lithgow was sent to the Marshalsea, where he continued a prisoner for nine months. In the next reign Lithgow brought his case before the Upper House, but there is no evidence that his application was successful. It is probable that, after the termination of his imprisonment, Lith- gow returned to Scotland, as in 1623 he was served heir to his father. His opinion of the state of his native country, or perhaps it would be * Vol. II., p. 153, 5th Edition, 8vo, London 1824. f Gondomar was suffering from fistula, which occasioned his usmg a perforated chair, as exhibited in one of his prints. Prefatory Remarks. xv more proper to say, its " lamentable and desolate condition," which he was courageous enough to address to his Sovereign, in the able and patriotic sketch, which we venture to think is the chief attrac- tion of the present volume. But of this afterwards. Meanwhile he was engaged in arranging and collecting into one volume his three voyages, during which " his painfull feet have traced over, besides passages of seas and rivers, thirty-six thousand and odd miles, which draweth near to twice the circumference of the whole earth." This has been asserted to be "incredible." Yet — although there may be some exageration — when we remember that Lithgow had been almost continually travelling one way or the other from his youth for twenty years, perhaps more, — his assertion is not quite so marvellous as at first sight it might appear. In 1632 the first collected edition of Lithgow's Travels appeared, with numerous recommendatory verses prefixed. They commence with a poetical address by Patrick Hannay :— (i.) To his Singular Friend Maister Lithgow. The double trauell {Lithgow) thou hast tane. One of thy Feete, the other of thy Brane, Thee, with thy selfe, doe make for to contend. Whether the earth, thou'st better pac'd or pend. Would Malagaes sweet liquor had thee crownd. And not its treechery, made thy ioynts vnsound. For Christ, King, Countrey, what thou there indur'd Not them alone, but therein all iniur'd : Their tort'ring Rack, arresting of thy pace Hath barr'd our hope, of the world's other face : Who is it sees this side so well exprest. That with desire, doth not long for the rest. G xvi Prefatory Remarks. Thy trauell'd Countreyes so described be. As Readers thinke, they doe each Region see. Thy well compacted matter, ornat stile. Doth them oft, in quicke sliding Time beguile. Like as a Mayde, wandering in Florae: Boures Confind to small time, of few flitting houres. Rapt with delight, of her eye pleasing treasure. Now culling this, now that Flower, takes such pleasure That the strict time, whereto she was confin'd Is all expir'd ; whiles she thought halfe behind. Or more remayn'd : So each attracting line Makes them forget the time, they doe not tyne : But since sweet future trauell, is cut short. Yet loose no time, now with the Muses sport ; That reading of thee, after times may tell. In Trauell, Prose, and verse, thou didst excell. Patrick Hannay. Hannay was a Scotsman, and a favourable specimen of his poetical powers will be foimd in Ellis' collections.* In Longman's " Bibliotbeca Anglo Poetica " (No. 46), there occurs the following article : — " A Happy Husband, or Directions for a Maid to chuse her Muse, Together with a Wives Behaviour after Marriage, by Patrick Hannay, Gent., London. — Printed by John Harland, 1 6 1 9, pp. 26." See also " TThe Censura Literaria," by Brydges, Vol. 5, p. 365-369. He was also the author of " Two Elegies on the late Death of our Soveraigne Queene Anne, with Epitaph's written by Patrick Hannay, • Vide Specimens of the Early English Poets, vol. 3, p. 135. "Prefatory Remarks. xvii M. of Arts, London. — Printed by Nicholas Okes, 1619. Dedicated to Prince Charles." It may be noticed that Okes was the printer 'of the " Total Dis- course " of lithgow's " Rare Adventures" the work just mentioned. Perhaps Hannay recommended his friend the traveller to his own printer. (2.) To his dearly respected friend William Lithgow. Shall Homer sing of stray'd Flysses toyle ? From Greece to Memphis, in parch'd JEgypts soyle : Flank'd with old Piramedes, and melting Nyle, Which was the furthest, he attayn'd the while : A length of no such course, by ten to one. Which thou thy selfe pedestrially hast gone : Then may thy latter dayes out-strip old times. That now hast scene. Earths circulary climes : And far beyond Flysses, reach'd without him. Both East and West, yea. North and South about him : Which here exactly, thou hast sweetly sung In ornat style, in oiu- quick flowing tongue ; Of Lawes, Religion, customes, manners, rites Of Kings and people : life sublimest sprits. In policies and gouernment : Earths spaces From soyle to soyle, in thy long wandring traces. But what my soule applaudes ! and must admire Which eu'ry zealous Christian, should desire To learne and know ; is this, Spaines tortring Racke And torments sharpe, which for the Gospells sake Thou constantly didst beare : O ioyfull payne ! Whilst Grace in those sad pangs, did thee sustaine. xviii Prefatory Remarks. With loue and patience : O blest lijiely faith ! That for Christ's cause, condemned was to death, Liue then (O liuing Martyr!) still renown'd Mongst Gods elect ; whose constancy hath crown'd Refbrmd Religion : And let heauens thy mind Blesse with moe ioyes, than thou didst torments find. Walter Lyndesaj. Allen's verses, already given, are here inserted, but those signed W. A. are omitted. This curious circumstance countenances the sup- position, that as the writer had become a very great a man, he was apprehensive the praise he originally gave as William Alexander could not safely be bestowed upon one who had the boldness to point out to his liege Lord the wretched state of his native country. (3.) To his kind friend and countreyman IV. Lithgow. Thy well adventur'd Pilgrimage I prayse. Although perform'd with perrUl and with paine. Which thou hast pen'd, in more than vulgar phrase So curiously, so sweetly, smooth, and plaine. Yet wMlst I wondring call to minde againe. That thou durst goe, like no man else that liues ; By sea, and land, alone, in cold and raine. Through Bandits, Pirats, and Arabian Thieues, I doe admire thee ; yet a good euent Absolues a rash designe : So hardest things, (When hmnane reason cannot giue consent T' attempt) attain'd, the greater glory brings. Then Friend, though praise and paines rest both with thee. The vse redounds vnto the world, and me. John Murray. Prefatory Remarks. xix (4.) In commendation of the Author William Lithgow. Come curious eyes, that pierce the highest scopes Of sublime stiles : come satisfie your hopes And best desires ; in this prompe Pilgrimes paines Whose deepe experience, all this worke sustaines With solid substance, of a subject deare And pregnant method ; laid before you heare In open bonds : come take your hearts delight In all the colours of the worlds great sight. Come thanke his trauells ; praise his painfull Pen That sends this light to Hue, 'mongst lining men ; To teach your children, when he, and you are laid As low as dust ; how sceptered Crownes are swaid ; Most Kingdomes gouernment : How rul'd with Lawes The South world is : their rites. Religious sawes : Townes Topographick view, and Riuers courses. Fonts, Forts, and Cittadalis ; scorch'd Asiaes sources : All you may see, and much more than I name Seal'd in the Authors, neuer-dying fame. Eleazar Robertson. (5.) In Commendations of this History. Thou art not hatch'd, forth from anothers traine. Nor yet Collect'd, from others toiles thy sight. The selfe same man, that bred thee beares the paine Of thy long birth ; O weary wandring Wight ! Its carefull he, by knowledge giues the light. And deeupe experience to adorne thy name ; D XX Prefatory Remarks. Both Pilgrime, Pen-man, so thy maister right ; Who best can iudge, in what concernes the same : Then free-borne toile, flee forth with winged Fame Thy Countries Virgin, thou the first penn'd Booke That in his Soile, did euer Pilgrime frame Of curious Trauailes ; whereon the Learned looke : Then knit thy maiden brow, with Garlands greene. The first of times, the last this Age hath Scene. Alexander Boyde. The eulogies terminate with an address by— The Author to his Booke. Go painfull Booke, go plead thy owne defence, Walke with undaunted Courage, stop the Breath Of carping tongues ; who count it small offence To bulge Thee up, within the iawes of Death : Go liuely charg'd, with stout Historian Faith, And trample, downe, base Crittickes in the Dust : Make Trueth thy sword, to batter down their wrath So shall thy graue discourse, triumph as iust : Who yeeld Thee credite, and deseruing trust. There prostrate fal, giue them their hearts content : Point forth the Wise, and court them as thou must, Giue them insight, as I giue Argument : Instruct the curious, inlarge the serville mind. Illuminate, misunderstandings blinde ; Sound knowledge in their eares, deigne to approue me. Since Friends and Foes, the World and I, must loue thee. Prefatory Remarks. xxi The travels were again reprinted in small 410, in 1640, without any alteration. This was perhaps the previous book with a new title. There was an edition printed on London Bridge, 410, 1682, of which a copy occurs in a late catalogue of Willis and Sotheran ; and again, in Scotland, in the following century [1770], with a tolerable copy of the Portrait from the edition of 1632. A later edition, not very accurate, emanated from Leith in 1 8 14, in 8vo. Lithgow's veracity has been impeached, and it is asserted that, in narrating his travels, he has drawn very much upon his imagination. We are not disposed to admit the accusation to any material extent. Lithgow had a strangely constituted mind, indulged in the most fan- tastic notions, used the most inflated language, and entertained a high notion of his talents as a poet — a sad mistake, as we presume most readers will think if they have courage to peruse that most dull and prosaic production of his entitled " The Gushing Tears of Godly Sorrow^' He may, perchance, from his poetical temperament, have coloured his pictures, but that he traded in fiction we cannot bring ourselves to believe. His seizure at Malaga, his strange and wonder- ful escape from the Inquisition, and his marvellous recovery from the tortures inflicted on him, however incredible, are distinctly proved. Had the story rested upon his own declaration it would have been discredited without hesitation. Yet his public exhibition satisfied the most sceptical, and, at the King's own charge, he was sent to Bath lor recovery of his health. That he could extract nothing from Gondomar is only an additional instance of the Spanish influence which pre- dominated, for ridiculing which, Middleton, the dramatic writer, suffered smartly. The inveterate and bitterly expressed hatred of Lithgow to Popery naturally exposed him to the hostility of the Papists, and formed an essential element in determining the Catholic Monarch and his subtle Ambassador to withhold reparation ; for, not unlike a certain illustrious indivdiual of the present century, it was a state axiom, then as now, to xxii Prefatory Bemarks. reverse the old rule, "parcere subjectis et debellare superbos." The candour of our traveller, notwithstanding what has been said of his disregard to truth, is shown in some instances where the revelations are not particularly creditable to himself. For instance, the following adventure, recorded by him, affords direct proof of this assertion ; and, lax as the morals of the time undoubtedly were, places our author in an equivocal position. Whilst traversing Sicily, he determined to visit " Trapendie," with the intention of crossing over to Africa. He took up his abode in the " Bourge of Saramutza," belonging to a young Sicilian Baron. Our traveller rose early one morning with the inten- tion of visiting the young Baron of Castello Franco, at a distance of eight miles. He had got about half way, when to his astonishment he be- held the youthful Lords of Saramutza and Castello Franco lying dead in a field, and their horses tied to trees in the vicinity adjoining the road. It seems that they had quarrelled about the love of a noble Dame of the country, and had settled their differences by slaying each other. Hence, as Lithgow has it, " Troppo amore " turned " Presto dolore." " Upon which sight," continues the peripatetic Scotchman, " to speak the truth, I searched both their pockets, and found their two silken purses full loaden with Spanish pistoles; whereat my heart sprung for joy; and taking five rings off their four hands, I hid them and the two purses in the ground half a mile beyond this place, and returning again, leaped upon one of their horses, and came galloping back to Saramutza.'' This, it must be confessed, was a trick worthy of Don Raphael, or his friend Ambrose Lamela ; of course, he informed the family of the disastrous occurrence, and having done so without hesitation, took his speedy way to Castello Franco, where he repeated the same story. He left both families in a distracted state, and, having repossessed himself of his hidden treasure, fled from the spot as fast as he could. The gold in the purses consisted of " three hundred and odd double pistoles, and the rings, being set with diamonds, and valued at one hundred chezqueens of Malth (eight shillings the piece). Prefatory Remarks. xxiii he " dispatched " for less. " But the gold was my best second, which, like Homer's Illiades under Alexander's pillow, was my continual vade mecum." The palliation of this nice bit of theft shall be given in the author's own words : — " Well, in the mutability of time there is aye some for- tune falleth by accident, whether lawful or not, I will not question ; it was now mine that was last theirs ; and to save the thing that was not lost, I travailed that day thirty miles to Terra Nona, where, the next morning, being early embarked for Malta, and there safely landed, I met with a ship of London called ' The Mathew.' " * Trapendie is evidently Trapani. In the time of the Carthagenians it was the scene of a celebrated sea fight between them and the Romans (b. c. 249.) It was then called Drepanum. From its being immediately opposite the African coast, there is still a considerable traffic in salt, coral, and such like articles. For a young man, die job was certainly very ingeniously and judi- ciously managed. To prevent any suspicion falling upon himself, the plunder was carefully secreted, then the friends were informed of the melancholy event ; — meanwhile, the traveller quietly removed from the scene of the tragedy, and securing his prize, got off before any question arose either as to the loss of the money or the diamonds. The latter commodity was disposed of under their value on the earliest opportunity, and as to any identification of the doubloons, that was out of the question. One remarkable feature of the case is his subsequent disclosure to the public of an act which was certainly little better than a positive robbery. He must have viewed the matter in a very different light from what it would be considered in this en- lightened age, in which deeds equally discreditable daily occur, but which the perpetrators contrive to keep to themselves if they can, and not publish to mankind. • The Nineteen Years' Travels of William Lithgow, p. 355, edition r63i. E xxiv Prefatory Remarks. Lithgow had intended to visit Russia, and, as he tells us, left, on the 1 6th of May 1637, "the truly noble and magnanimous Lord Alex- ander, Earle of Galloway," mounted upon a " Gallowedian nagge," and passing into Cumberland he paid his court to " Docter Potter, that Painfull Preacher and religioxis prelate the Lord Bishop of Carleisle." He next visited Doctor Morton, Lord Bishop of Durham, and enter- ing Yorkshire, " made homage unto Docter Niell, my singular good Lord and friend the Archbishop of York, wrhere leaving his Grace in the ftilnesse of his deserved dignity I arrived in London and so to Court." These Church dignitaries were men of learning and virtue, and we have purposely referred to them as proving that Lithgow must have been considered by them as a man entitled to notice. Is it likely that they would countenance for one moment a person of equivocal character \ " Divers weeks being spent," continues oiu- author, " in beholding the changes and viscissitudes of time and fortune, whereof I was both a testator and frobator, I left the new-begun Progresse, and stepped down to Gravesend ; where staying for my Russian voyage and shipp- ing fayling, the Summer being also gone I resolved to goe see Breda." The vessel he embarked in was commanded by a skipper, who was unhappily both " fearfiil and ignorant,'' so much so, that he and the other passengers were much put about, and were landed sixty miles from Rotterdam, the place of their destination, by which means it cost the " passengers above zoo English Crownes." Upon his return, Lithgow gave the fruits of his travels to his countrymen in the following work: — "A True and Experimentall Discourse, upon the beginning, proceeding, and Victorious event of this last siege of Breda, with the Antiquity and Annexing of it to the House of Nassau, and the many alterations it hath suffered by Armes, and Armies within these threescore yeares. Together with the prudent Plots, Projects, and Policies of Warre : The Assailants and Defendants matchlesse man-hood, in managing Martiall Affaires: Prefatory Remarks. xxv The misery and manner of Souldiers living, their pinching, want, and fatall accidents : Strange weapons and Instruments used by both parties in Seuerall Conflicts. Lastly, their Concluded Articles, with the Circumstances and ordering of the Siege and Victory. Being pleasant to peruse and profitable to observe. Written by him who was an Eye-witnesse of the siege — William Lithgow. London: Printed by J. Okes for J. Rothwel, and are to be Sold at his Shop in Paul's Chnrch- Yard at the Signe of the Sunne. 1637." To this work was prefixed the following commendatory verses : — (i.) To his Singular Friend and Renowned Travailer, Mr Lithgow. Can not this He, thy wandring minde contayne. When age hath crown'd thy Forrain toiles & sight. But now that Belgia must thy stepps sustaine. To prie where Mars involves his awfuU might : Thy former Travailes lend the World great light. And after times thy memory shall praise : But now Breda claimes in thy paines a right To rouze her worth, her strength, her change, her strayes : Thou bringst remotest toiles, to home-bred waies. And turnes thy tune, to sing a Tragick song. It's done, and wel, each work thy merits raise. Patron of Pilgrims, Poet, Pen-man long. A Souldier's phrase thy curious stile affords. To fit the subject, with their deeds and words. Soare then (brave Spark) on flying wings of Fame, That in this taske, reuives thy living name. Alexander Grahame. ^xvi Prefatory Remarks. (z.) To his Peculiar Associate, and Pilgrimagious Brother, William lithgow. * From Paris once to Rome with thee I went. But further off thy brave designe was bent. Which thou atchieved, in two-fold Asia twice. And compass'd Europe, courted Affricke thrice. O curious toUe ! expos'd in soiles remote. But rarer for that rare discourse thou wrot To light the world : and now thy Quil the while. Shuts up Breda, within this Tragicke stile. James Arthur. This tractate is perhaps the best specimen of Lithgow's prose com- position that we have, excepting perhaps, his amusing " Survey of London" From his strong national feeling, he loses no oppor- tunity of commending the valoiu- of his countrymen, and recording with a laudable enthusiasm many gallant acts performed by them. The enumeration of names is exceedingly interesting. Amongst other worthies, he mentions " that hardy and redoubted gentleman. Colonel Cunninghame, a sonne of the house of Bonnington upon the river Clyde, and one of my condisciples in Lanerk." We notice this parti- cular entry only, because, according to the traditionary account, Lithgow had been indebted to the Bonnington family for the injuries he had sustained in his youth. It is very unlikely that he would have had sufficient charity to eulogise one of a family which had acted so cruelly towards him. Tradition has given the name of Lockhart, and as that family subsequently acquired the Bonnington estates it may have been some of their predecessors who were perpetrators of the outrage. Prefatory Remarks. xxvii Lithgow's next production was occasioned by the sad accident that occurred in the blowing up of the Castle at Dunglasse, which will be found in the present collection of his pieces. It is of very rare occur- rence, not more than two, or perhaps three, copies being in existence. This disastrous event was, according to Scotstarvit, in his " Scandalous Chronicle" brought about by an indiscreet jest of the second Earl of Haddington, uttered in presence of his page, an English lad of the name of Edward Paris. His Lordship had been ridiculing the EngUsh, and calling them a pack of cowards for suffering themselves to be beaten at Newburn. This so nettled the youth, that he took a red hot poker, and thrust it into one of the powder barrels, blowing him- self up with the rest. Lithgow confirms the statement, and asserts that Ned took the kitchen poker, and proceeding to the magazine, where there was eighteen hundred weight of powder, blew it up. He says not a word, however, as to the provocation, but contents himself with abusing the unhappy being, whose revenge was the cause of it, in no measured terms, — so much so, that in the annals of cursing there can hardly be found anything to exceed his maledictions. Amongst those who suffered was Colonel Erskine, the third son of John seventh Earl of Mar, who was the subject of the beautiful Scot- tish ballad " Lady Anne BothwelPs Lament" which was erroneously supposed by some to refer to a divorced Countess of Bothwell, whereas the real party was the aunt of the first Lord Holyroodhouse, and a daughter of Bishop Bothwell, who, as Father Hay asserts, " fell with child to a son of the Earl of Marre." One of the verses has pecuhar reference to his final catastrophe, and would lead to the inference that the poem was composed after the event : — " I wish I were vmto the bounds Where he lays smothered in his wounds. Repeating, as he pants for air. The name oi her he once called fair. r xxviii Prefatory Remarks. No woman yet so fiercely set. But she'll forgive, but not forget." The same year in which Lithgow versifies the disaster at Dunglassc he printed, as he informs us, " at his own expense," the " Gushing Teares of Godly Sorrow.^' Perhaps we judge erroneously in pronounc- ing this to be a most unreadable and unsatisfactory production, so much so, that we would have excluded it from the present volume, had our publisher not been of opinion that its non-insertion would have been injurious to a collection represented as containing the poetical remains of the Traveller. That there was only one edition is not surprising, and the author was fortunate if the sale paid the cost of printing. The only interesting portion is the Dedication to the gal- lant and noble Montrose, one of the few noblemen of whom the Scot- tish nation has cause to be proud, and whose reputation has recently been so thoroughly vindicated by his accomplished biographer. We need hardly mention that the " Gushing Teares " have at least one merit, namely, that of rarity ; for it is not supposed that more than half-a-dozen perfect copies exist. Lithgow left Scotland, as he informs us, on the 24th of August 1643, embarking at Prestonpans in a coasting ship for London. His voyage was dreary enough, as, between " Forth and Gravesend," he saw only three vessels " two Scotsmen, and one Norwegian.'' On his arrival at the metropolis, his cacaothes scribendi again seized him, and he speedily put to the press, for the instruction of his coim- trymen, " The Present Surveigh of London and England's Estate ; containing a Topographical Description of all the particular Forts, Redoubts, Breast-works, and Trenches, newly erected round about the Citie, on both sides of the River, with the several Fortifications thereof; and a perfect Relation of some fatall Accidents, and other Disasters, which fell out in the City and Country, during the Author's abode there ; Intermingled also with certaine severall Observations, Prefatory Remarks. xxix worthy of Light and Memorie. By William Lithgow. London, Printed by J. O. 1643." When the Author left Scotland, he tells his readers that, at the period of his departure from his native soil, he was past threescore years, — a statement confirmatory of what the writer of these observa- tions hazarded at the outset. Sir Walter Scott has inserted this piece in his edition of Lord Somer's Tracts,* and has prefixed a few lines, in which, after noticing the dispute with Gondomar, and Lithgow's imprisonment for assaulting him, he remarks, " This circumstance did not increase Lithgow's reverence for the House of Stuart, which was, moreover, diminished by his zeal for Presbytery. It grieves me to say, that his countrymen adopted the opinion of the Spaniard ; and the lower ranks, with whom, notwithstanding, his book was long a favour- ite, distinguished him by the epithet of 'Lying Lithgow.' " "Aliquando dormitat bonnus Homerus ; " and we suspect that our immortal country- man had been slumbering when he dreamt of any popular feeling in favour of Gondomar to the prejudice of the sufferer by the Inquisition at Malaga. The Spanish preponderance was notoriously unpopular. It would, therefore, have been desirable that some sort of evidence should have been brought forward instructing that his own country- men, with whom Presbytery was pre-eminent, and to whom Popery was abhorrent, ever designated him as " lying Lithgow.'' We have only space to give the concluding paragraph of this very curious pamphlet, which deserves to be disinterred from the vast col- lection in which it is bound : — " Neither may I here obumbrate the memorie of this late designe framed for the overthrow of Parhament and London, the disco verie and deliverie whereof was wonderfuU, and yet the purpose far more cruel, if it had taken effect : I will not further insist herein, since the oracle of the lower house hath twice already most largely manifested the same, both under print and power. * Vol. iv., p. 545, XXX Prefatory Remarks. But this much I may avouch, that if that unnatural attempt had pre- vailed, then and there had I doubtless suffered with the rest, for now as I live to Malaga a living martyr, so then they had sacrificed me with London, a dying martyre. Yea, and the like designe, and that same time, was contrived against Bristol, whereupon there were two of the villaines hanged for their paines. There was a solemn thanksgiving to God through London June 15th, and the country about, for that happie day of their deliverance, and fom-ty-six of their adversaries taken, and under tryall of the martiall law. And although every man wisheth and speaketh as he affects, yet have I indifferently (like to the passenger sayling betweene Scylla and Charibdis) carryed myself to neither hand, but in a just way keeping a right course, least I should have offended the truth, and so have slaine the honesty of my good in- tention ; for though it is impossible to give all parties content, yet I had rather please many as to offend any. And now to close : Al- mighty God preserve aright and sanctifie the royall heart of our dread liege and governour. And now, good Lord, either in thy mercy con- vert the Papists, else in thy fiirie confound them, and turne their bloudy swords back in their own bosomes, that their devilish designes may never henceforth prevaile any more against thy saints and choice- lings ; and send us, and all true beUevers, the life and light of peace and truth. Amen." This distinct avowal of Lithgow of his anxiety to keep well with both sides is characteristic of the man, and qualifies the observations of Sir Walter Scott, that his great zeal for Presbytery had weakened his attachment to the Stuart Dynasty. He purposely pointed out, when recording his departure from Galloway for the English metropolis, the kind manner in which he had been received by the Ecclesiastical Peers he visited during his progress south — a circumstance assuredly establishing that his zeal for the followers of Calvin was not so great as to preclude his paying court to Episcopal dignitaries. The truth is. Popery was his bugbear, and he was not likely ever to forget the cruel Prefatory Remarks. xxxi usage he received at Malaga. It was consequently a natural result, that in his productions he should take every opportunity of exposing, in the bitterest language, his feelings of hatred and detestation towards Popery. The last acknowledged production of our indefatigable traveller was — " An Experimental and Exact Relation upon that famous and renowned Siege of Newcastle, the diverse conflicts and occtu-rances fell out there during the time of ten weeks and odde days ; and of that mghtie and marvellous storming thereof, with power, policie, and pru- dent plots of warre : Together with a succinct commentarie upon the battle of Bowden Hill, and that victorious battell of York or Marston Moor, never to bee forgotten. By him who was an Eye Witnesse to the siege of Newcastle, William Lithgow. Edinburgh : Printed by Robert Bryson, 1645." There are copies of this tract — which, like his " Siege of Breda," is full of notices of his countrymen, many of them deeply interesting — in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, and in the Abbotsford Library. From the latter the late Mr Brockett made his reprint at Newcastle in 1820. At the outset, Lithgow, after a few observations in his ordinary magniloquent style, commences with the followmg lines : — " This long-crossed labour, now it comes to light. And \, and my discourse set in my right. Which reason craved ; for where can truth prevaile But where sound judgment may it countervaile. For what seek I ? in what these times afford. But of my Countrie's praise a just record. Which God allows ; and what can contraires bring. But man for men the light of truth may sing. Else after ages would be borne as blinde. As though our time had come their time behinde : For curious Penman and the Paper Scroule, They are of memorie the life and soule." G xxxii Prefatory Remarks. Lithgow's account of the beleaguering of the town is interesting from its minuteness. We have only room for one extract, giving an amusing, but no doubt prejudiced account of its inmates : — "As for the Inhabitants resyding within, the richest or better sort of them, as seven or eight Common Knights, Aldermen, Coale Merchants, Pudlers, and the like creatures, are altogether Malignants, most of them being Papists, and the greater part of all I say, irreligious Atheists. The vulgar condi- tion being a Masse of siUy Ignorants, live rather like to the Berdoans in Lybia, (wanting knowledge, conscience, and honesty), than like to well disposed Christians, ply able to Religion, civill order, or Church discip- line. And why ? because their brutish desires being onely for libertinous ends; Avarice, and Voluptousnesse; they have a greater sensualitye, in a pretended formalitye, than the savage Sabvmcks, with whom I leave them here engrossed." From this period we lose sight of our restless worthy, whose acti- vity, old age had probably lessened to a great extent. Indeed, it is astonishing how, after his suiFerings at Malaga twenty-five years pre- viously, he continued so vigorously to battle with the world. It was once believed that Lithgow survived the Restoration ; but we question this, as the supposition is based on evidence of a ws^rj slight description. It arose in this way : in the volume containing the remarkable address to King Charles I., there follows a " Parsnesis " to Charles II., in which the writer refers, in a side-note, to " the author's poeme intituled 'Scotland's Welcome to King Charles,' in anno 1633." Hence it was conjectured that as Lithgow had written an address to the unhappy Charles in 1633, he necessarily was the author. This idea was to a certain degree countenanced by the fact that the volume had belonged to Robert Mylne, a well-known book-collector and en- thusiastic antiquary, who having survived for above one hundred years, must have been a yoimg man of more than twenty years of age when the " Paraenesis " appeared in 1660 ; and, as he had arranged the con- tents of the volume in the order in which it at present remains, it Prefatory Remarks. xxxlii might be taken for granted that he did so in the belief that it was a supplement to the poem that preceded it.* As the publisher has included the " Paranens" in this collection the reader can easily judge for himself; but the Editor, who, in general does not consider internal evidence usually very conclusive, is disposed to think, that in this instance it is so, — for it presents the most striking contrast to the euphonistic style of Lithgow that possibly can be con- ceived. Independent of this it so happens that there was a somewhat obscure rhymester who had also addressed Charles I. on his visit to Scotland in 1633, to whom with more probability the authorship may be attributed. In 1 646 Lithgow must have been approaching seventy years of age, and if he survived the Restoration, which we doubt much, he must have been very nearly ninety. By the kindness of David Laing, Esq., whose extensive knowledge on all subjects connected with the history and literature of Scotland is well known to every one who has had occasion to consult him, the attention of the Editor has been called to a document of singular interest as connected with the fortunes of the traveUer. It is the last will of a lady, whom we have every reason for regarding as his mother. The following is an abstract of its material portions : — " Testament Testamentar of Alesoun Grahame, sumtyme spous to James Lytgow, merchand burges of Lanark — the time of her deceis quta deceisiut upon the xvi. day of AprUe the zeir of God dmvj " foure zeiris." (The Inventory is long, and not worth copying.) * "21 Dec. 1747. — Robert Myln, writer, aged 103. He enjoyed his sight and the exercise of his understanding, till a little before his death, and was buried on his birth- day." — Brithh Magazine, or London and Edinburgh Inti/iigencer. xxxiv Prefatory Remarks. " Summa of the Inventar, L.jSp i 8 Dettis awing to the deid, 703 5 o iy 3> >7 « L.1092 6 8 Dettis awn be the deid, 1210 o Frie Geir, L.1079 16 8 It commences thus: — "Wpoun the xvj day of Aprile 1603, I, Alesone Grahame seik in body and haO] in mynd, makis my legacie and latter will in maner following, — In the first I nominat and con- stitutas James Lytgow my husband onlie executr and introt w' my guidis geir and dettis. Item, I leif of my part of geir xls. to be dis- tribut to the pure be the Session. Item, I leif to Marionn Grahame my sister xls. Item, I leif to Wm. Lytgow my sone twa hundret merkis. Item, I lief to James Lytgow my zoungest sone thrie hundret merkis with foure zowis and lambes. Item, I leif to Marionn Lytgow my dochter fyve hundret merkis with quhat funds her fader thinkis expedient to wair upon her quhen scho gettis ane honest mariage. Item, mair I leif to the said Marionn, sex pair of new scheittis, two pair small and four pair round, twa new coueringis, twa kistis, fovir cuscheonnis, ane brass pott, ane pan, four peuder plaittis, the zoung kow, foure aulde scheip, with my haill lynning and wowin clayth. I ordaine my husband to infeft Wm. my eldest sone in the house and zairdiss barne, and twa half aikeris of land, Reservand his awn lifrent yr of. I leif ourseiris to my bairnes Johne Weir, baillie, Wm. Wakin, and James Lytgow, tailzour, to sie my husband fulfill this my legacie, and sua seiUis vp my latter will, day, place, and befoire the witnesses aboue written. In witness quhairof I have causit the Notar vnder written subscrybe these presentis at my command becaus I could not wryte myselff. Sic subscribitur Jfa est Gedioun Weir notarius puhl. et testis in Premisis manu -propria testant. " We Mr Johne Nicolson, &c., and gevis and committis the intromis- Prefatory Remarks. xxxv sion with the samyn to the said James Lytgow, onlie execur tesf to the said umquhile Alesone Grahame, his spous; — Reservand compt, &c., quha being sworne, &c., and Oliver Kay, merchand, bur- ges of Edr is become cautioner." * The will throws important light on the position of the Traveller. We learn from it that Lithgowr's parents occupied a respectable station in Lanark, the usual winter abode of the County proprietors. His father certainly was not a laird, in the proper sense of the word, but his moveable estate, for the period, was considerable. Few of his higher-born neighbours could boast of the possession of half his per- sonal wealth. He was resident in a Royal burgh, where he owned in his own right a house, garden, and at least " twa half acres of land." He was in all likelihood what used of old to be called in Scotland " a merchant," — a designation indiscriminately applied in that country, till recently, to all persons in trade, without respect to its being whole- sale or retail. Indeed, in the year 1 604 and later, a merchant, in the English sense of the word, was not known on this side of the Tweed. The old gentleman, moreover, was a Burgess of Lanark ; and it is not unworthy of remark that members of most of the influential families in the neighbourhood did not think it beneath their dignity to be also so denominated. Thus the Carmichaels, originally Lords of Parlia- ment as Barons, and latterly as Earls, were, at least many of them. Burgesses of Lanark. So were the Chancellors of Shieldhill, an an- cient race, — the Johnstons of Westraw, — and many other individuals of noble and gentle blood. These persons usually possessed houses, gardens, and acres in Lanark, which they continued to occupy, until fashion, that inflexible despot, transferred their habitations to the Scot- ish metropolis. Neither, in that part of Scotland, did the exercise of a trade exclude intercourse with the landowners. Whilst searching the Register of Edinburgh Commissary Record, Vol. xxxix. H xxxvi Prefatory Remarks. Sasines for the Upper Ward of the county of Lanark, the editor was amused with an entry [last day February 1623] of an infeftment in which various parties of different stations are brought together. Thus James Hamilton, tailzeour, is joined with Hugh Carmichael, a son of the deceased Thomas Carmichael, in Eastend, as attorneys for John Carmichael. Next comes fames, the lawful son of James Chancellor, " callit lang James," in overtown of Quodquen, as attorney for Walter, a brother of Hugh Carmichael. Then James Muir, whose designation is not given, acts as the attorney of William, another brother, for the purpose of feudally vesting the three brothers in " all and haill the lands of Craiglands, extending to four oxengait of land, now occupied by James Chancellor, called meikle James," and by John Wardlaw. The legacy of Lithgow's mother may have been the means of en- abling him to prosecute his violent desire for travel, and as he was desirous of quitting a place where he had been so basely used, her bequest would put it in his power to gratify this desire. The lady bore the honourable and ancient name of Grahame, and perhaps was remotely connected with that noble gentleman the first Marquis, who was, notwithstanding the attacks upon his memory by Puritans, one who was entitled, as the Scotish Bayard, to bear as a motto, " Sans peur et sans reproche." This belief is strengthened by the circum- stance, that although Lithgow latterly inclined to the party opposed to his monarch, he nevertheless on every occasion speak of the Mon- trose family with the greatest respect and affection. We may here, as again referring to the travels, notice a fact which only recently came under our notice, and for which we are indebted to the obliging and learned Librarian of the Society of Writers to Her Majesty's Signet. Lithgow's adventures were not likely to be tolerated in Roman Catholic countries, but in Protestant Holland they attracted notice. They were translated into Dutch, and published in Amster- dam by Jacob Benjamin in the year 1652, in small quarto. The en- graved frontispiece preceding the title is by Christian de Pas, and Prefatory Remarks. xxxvii represents, it is presumed, Lithgow on horseback, receiving the stirrup- cup from one hand of a fair lady, and clasping the other in the act of bidding farewell, whilst Fame, flying above his head, is proclaiming his wonderful acts with the aid of no less than two triunpets, display- ing at same time a scrolled banner, containing a map of his travels. On one side, in front, " Hispania " is placed on a pedestal, and imme- di^ely opposite, " Vrancryck " [France]. The former is pourtrayed as an elderly gentlewoman, at least the figtu-e very much resembles one. Of the gender of the other there can be no mistake. The body is somewhat plump, and has a slight look of the portraits of that very injudicious lady, Henrietta Maria, whose bad advice had no small effect in bringing about the calamitous event that made her a widow. Several well-executed engravings occur at various places, and at page 77 of the concluding portion of the volume will be found a remarkably striking representation of the tortviring of lithgow at Malaga. The Dutch translator evidently knew nothing of his author's parentage, or of his existence at the time, if^ in point of fact he was then alive. He designates him as an Englishman, perhaps thinking he was safe in so doing, as Cromwell had in a manner extinguished Scotland as a sepa- rate and independent nation. It may hardly be necessary to state that this Dutch edition is of great rarity, at least in this country, and the only copy that has fallen under the editor's notice is one in very fine condition in the library of David Laing, Esq. Nothing has hitherto been discovered in relation to the brother and sister mentioned in the will of Mrs Alison Grahame or Lithgow, although it may be conjectured that the considerable dowry bequeathed by her mother, to say nothing as to what might have been gifted by her father, would afford a great attraction even to the landed proprie- tors in the vicinity, to whom five hundred merks would have been a very handsome marriage portion, irrespective of the household plen- ishing, not to mention the young cow and " the foure auld scheip." We can hardly imagine that a young lady with such seductive attrac- xxxviii Prefatory Remarks. tions could be allowed to remain by some of the Chancellors, or the Johnstons, the Lockharts, or even the lordly Carmichaels, in a state of single blessedness. There is one remarkable injunction, or rather command, in the tes- tament, which would induce a belief that Mrs Lithgow not only expected to get, but actually got, after the usual fashion, very much of her own way, for she ordains her husband to infeft William in the house, yard, and half-acres in Lanark. It is hardly necessary to observe, that as the house, &c., belonged to the husband in fee-simple, the wife had no legal right whatever to control him in any way as to its ultimate des- tination. She does not merely express a wish that the elder son should succeed, but she " ordaines " the father to put his son in posses- sion, subject to his own liferent. Perhaps the hot blood of the gal- lant Grahame's, which flowed in Mrs Alison's veins warranted her in issuing this imperative requisition. Of Walter we can learn nothing. He may have been the progeni- tor of one or other of the races of Lithgows which flourished subse- quently in various parts of Scotland. There was a Thomas Lithgow, who owned a tenement of land in the burgh of Pittenweem in Fife, whose daughter Margaret was served heir to him 29th December 1 647. She also, of the same date, was served heir to her uncle David in another tenement in the same burgh. This lady married a man of the name of Anderson, by whom she had three daughters, Mar- garet, Mortoun, and Christian, who on the loth November 1652 were served heirs-portioners to their mother in the above-mentioned subjects. There was another family of the name, who were burgesses of Edinburgh. One of them, Gideon, was a printer of some note. In the index to the retours (26th February 1663) there is this entry : "Joannes Lithgow, mercator, burgensis de Edin., hasres Gideonis Lith- gow, topograph!, burgensis de Edinburgh, fratris immediate junioris, in tenementis in Edinburgh.'' But the chief family of the name were the Lithgows of Drygrange. Prefatory Remarks. xxxix " Lithgow of Drygrange in Teviotdale " (says Nisbet) « carries argent, a demi otter sable, issuing out of a loch, in base, proper." " William Lithgow, son and heir to David Lithgow of Drygrange, gets a new charter from the abbot and convent of Melrose of the lands of Drygrange, for his special service in resisting, to the hazard of his life, depredators and robbers of the dominion of Melrose, as the charter bears (which I have seen in the custody of Drygrange), of the date 1 8th January 1539, which charter is confirmed by King James V. the same year ; and from William is lineally descended the present Lithgow of Drygrange." When the Lithgows originally became church vassals of the mona- stery of Melrose is uncertain. From the collection of charters pre- sented to the Bannatyne Club by His Grace of Buccleuch, it appears that there was a James Lithgow in the convent of Melrose, who, with Andro, the abbot and the " hail consent and assent " of the convent, at a chapter held for that purpose, granted to " Elene Lawsoun, ye relyct of umquhill Thomas Wod in Edmenston Grange, and to Thomas Wod, her "son," their heirs, executors, and assignees, " beand of no greter degre na ther sellfis," all and haill the forty shilling land pertain- ing " till our malt myll of the said Grange," &c. This document is dated 12th August 1534.* Drygrange has now passed into other hands. When the Lithgows ceased to have connexion with it is uncertain, but it must have been prior to 1748. The Reverend Adam Milne, minister of the gospel at Melrose, who published the " second edition corrected " of his descrip- tion of the parish, therein informs his readers that the Lithgows got that esfate in James the Fifth's time, from the abbot and convent of Mel- rose, for resisting at the hazard of life the depredators and robbers of the dominions of Melrose. What follows is not so clear as could be * The name of Robert de Lythgow, notary public in the reign of James II., occurs in three instances in the Liber de Melros, 561. T xl Prefatory Remarks. wished : " That famUy was forfeited, and one of the name and family purchased these lands from John Earl of Haddington, as they were lately acquired by Thomas Paterson, and are now the heritage of Mr Colin Maclaurin, professor of Mathematics in the University of Edin- burgh." When the alleged forfeiture took place, and for what cause, is not explained. John was the fourth Earl of Haddington. He was served heir to his father on the loth April 1645, and he died on the ist September 1 669. He was grandson of " Tam o' the Cowgait," the founder of the family. President of the Court of Session, who was created Earl of Melros, a title he subsequently exchanged for that of Haddington. We may be wrong, but we suspect the noble lord was merely overlord of Drygrange, as coming in place of his grandfather, who had a grant of all that belonged to the convent, consisting for the most part of the superiorities of various lands possessed in property by the church vassals.* The modern historian of the county of Roxburghe has transferred Mylne's account to the pages of his book, in such a way as to induce his reader to imagine that he was treating of a recent alienation of pro- perty, instead of one made more than a hundred years before. In the month of February 1730, there was laid before the kirk- session of Lanark a letter in Latin thus addressed, ' Summe Reverendo Ecclesiae Lauricencis in Scotia Ministerio Domino, Seniori, caeterisque laudati Ministerij assessoribus. — Pateant Landerick." The object of this epistle was to obtain information as to the genealogy of a James Lithgow, and the writer was George Marcus Knock, bookseller, who offers to pay the expense of the inquiry. He says : " Vixit aliquando apud vos Jacobus Lithgow, utrum civis an ex ordine militari fiierit, de eo certe quid affirmare non possum. Loci et temporis, ubi et quando vixit longinquitas hujus rei memoriam ex animo meo delerunt. Vobis » The will of William Lithgow of Drygrange occurs in the Commissary record under date of 1st November 1574. Prefatory Remarks. xli autem nihil erit facilius quam ex genuinis documentis me ejus rei facere certiorem. SigUlatim scire desidero, an Willielmus Lithgow qui in oppido Scotiae Landrick tamquam civis floruit, Jacobi Lithgow frater, an vero pater fuerit." Marcus Knock then assures the reverend gentlemen that his prin- cipal temporal felicity is dependent on the knowledge of the fact. Wherefore, " per Deum eaque qua possum animi demissione, vos ore, ut quanta fieri potest celeritate desiderio meo satisfaciatis, literisque ad me datis omnes quas invenire potestis genealogise hujus cirumstantias mihi exponatis." The kirk-session reported that inquiries into the Lithgow genealogy had been made. That they had been successful in procuring what they supposed would satisfy the anxious inquiries of their Dantzic appli- cant. This was obtained, not in Lanark, but in the adjoining county of Linlithgow, where two individuals named John and Daniel Lithgow were discovered. These persons gave originally a certificate, but on reconsideration they wrote a letter to the session, dated 27 th Decem- ber 1729, in which they enclosed their joint deposition on oath, taken at Linlithgow on the 25th December preceding, before Sir David Cunningham of Miln-Craig and James Carmichael of Pottyshaw, two of His Majesty's Justices of Peace within the shire of West Lothian. It is so curious that we cannot refrain from inserting it entire: — "John Lithgow, solemnly sworn and interrogated upon oath, de- pones, that his grandfather John Lithgow of Botehaugh, near Lanark, in Scotland, had two sons of dilFerent marriages. The eldest son, Thomas, succeeded his father ; the youngest son, William, father to the deponent, went abroad. That the said Thomas, uncle to the de- ponent, had of sons William, his successor, and Daniel, gardener to the said Sir James Cunningham, both still alive in Scotland, and a younger son, James, who went abroad about the time of Bothwell Bridge, which was about the year of our Lord 1685, and till the dear years, which was about the year 1 699, never returned, at which time he brought along with him to Scotland a wife whom he said he married abroad. xlii Prefatory Remarks. called Mary Crawfurd, of Scottish parents, come of the family of Crawfurd of Jordanhill in Scotland, giving out that in the course of his travels, he had for some time resided in the Duke of Brandenburgh's dominions, and for three or four years after his return to Scotland practised the trade of a tallow chandler in the town of Lanark ; that he and his wife again returned to their travels, and since that time has never been heard of by the deponent till now that a letter from Dant- zic to the magistrates and kirk-session of Lanark gives an account of one of that name. That the said James, cousin to the deponent, being bred a merchant traveller, went with the pack into England about the Revolution, which was in the year of our Lord 1688, but since that time has never been heard of till now, that the foresaid letter gives also an account of one of the name, and whether he and the said Wil- liam, the deponent's father be dead or alive the deponent cannot tell, which is the truth, as he shall answer to God." As the kirk-session had been addressed in Latin, in transmitting the declaration it was thought expedient to send an answer in the same language, " Eximio viro Georgeo Marco Knock, bibliopolas apud Ga- denses celeberrimo." As we do not suppose our readers will care much for a specimen of the latinity of the reverend gentlemen who assisted in the composition of the epistle, we shall merely observe that after some circumlocution, the authenticity of the mode of proof was verified ; and it is to be hoped that the celebrated bookseller of Dantzic was relieved of the anxiety which led him to institute the inquiry. It is evident from this docimient that the branch of the Lithgow family of which the traveller was so remarkable and distinguished an ornament, had either a very remote relationship to the Boathaugh family, or had ceased to be much known in Lanark. Indeed, it would have been a feather in the cap of the Dantzic worthy if he could have been iden- tified as a descendant of the traveller, and through him have inherited a portion of the " blue blood," as the Spaniards have it, of the gallant Grahams. But there was no proof of anything of the kind, and although the Bibliopole pointed in his letter at a knightly origin, his Prefatory Bemarks. xliii hopes on this head must have experienced a sad downfall when the answer came to hand. In the "Picture of Scotland" it has been remarked, that after his suf- ferings, Lithgow settled down in his native town, married, had ^ family, died, and was interred in the churchyard there. The first of these assertions is disproved by evidence adduced by himself in his account of the "Siege of Breda," in 1637; his "Survey of London, '' 1 643 ; and his " Siege of Newcastle," 1 645.* Of the second and third, the writer of these remarks has not seen the slightest evidence ; and of the fourth, it would be most desirable that something hke proof should be adduced. It would no doubt, in ordinary circumstances, be a fair inference that a person living in a particular burgh perman- ently, and dying there, would be btu-ied in its churchyard ; but with so very erratic a person as the Traveller, the presumption can hardly be accepted. Whether Lithgow was originally destined to follow the calling of a tailor is questionable. The belief may have arisen out of the circum- stance that, in his mother's settlement, one of his " overseers " or trustees bearing the same name is described as one. There can be little doubt, whatever the prejudices in the more barbarous portion of Scotland may have been, that in 1600 there were no such paltry feel- ings on the subject of trade in the Lowlands. An honest dealer was regarded as a person who, by probity, perseverance, and economy, had earned for himself a respectable position in the world. Latterly a change came over the dream; but this proceeded entirely from that pride, which, as the ballad has it, "dings a' the kintry doun." The shopkeeper's helpmate was foolish enough to attempt to rival the lady of the adjoining laird, — hence arose discords. * It is remarkable that Lowndes, in enumerating Lithgow's works, should not have noticed his poetical account of the disaster at Dunglasse. Its rarity, probably, was the cause of this omission. K xliv Prefatory Bemarks. heart-burnings, and every sort of disagreeableness, all which ultimately tended to create an almost impassable barrier between " town folk " and " country folk," a separation which exists at the present date in too many localities. If Lithgow, when a lad, had been brought up a tailor, it ought to raise him considerably in the estimation of posterity ; but we have not found the slightest adminicle of evidence of a contemporary date of such a fact, and we are inclined to . consider the allegation as the fiction of a comparatively recent date. In his time, and very long afterwards, there existed in Lanark an excellent school, at which we have little doubt Lithgow was educated. It may be inferred that he was there when his mother died, and we do not imagine that this energetic lady, when she named a tailor as a trustee, intended to make her eldest son his apprentice. If she had wished anything of the kind, she would have set it down in her will. In the bond granted by him, which is printed in the Appendix, Lithgow is styled " Generosus.'' The Traveller has been accused of disloyalty to his sovereign, Charles the First, or at least of something very like it. To this allega- tion we respectfully demur. In the Appeal to his royal master in 1633, on the state of Scotland, there is an honest exposition of opinion, and a disclosure of painful truths ; but nothing which can justly be pointed out as disrespectfiil to his Majesty, or inconsistent with the author's reiterated protestations of veneration and love.* Unquestionably the tortures he suffered in the Inquisition at Malaga, * Charles had a fine taste for books, as well as for paintings. Occasionally some of the volumes composing his library turn up, and when exposed to public competition, produce enormous prices. Thus, in the sale catalogue of Bindley's Library, part II., 2504, there is a copy of Lithgow's Travels. This is the edition 1632, on large paper. It is " bound in morocco, and formerly in possession of King Charles I." It is characterized as unique, and was bought for the large sum of ^29, 8s. 6d. It was purchased by Henry Jadis, Esq., and was resold at his sale at the enormous price of £42. Lowndes, our authority, does not mention the name of the purchaser. Prefatory Remarks. xlv made him a bitter enemy of Romanism, and influenced him in passing over to the ranks of the Covenanters ; yet it is worthy of note that the dignitaries of the Church of England were inclined to think vyell of him, which would never have been the case had he been a Puritan- ical fanatick. As we have noticed, with one exception, the various poetical lucu- brations contained in this volume, we have little to add, excepting to call the reader's attention in particular to the " Pilgrime's Farewell" as affording a somewhat favourable specimen of the writer's poetical talents. There is in it much energy and vigour, and in some instances considerable poetical beauty. The Address to Charles, on the other hand, although deficient in most of the essentials of verse, is, as a pic- ture of the state of Scotland in 1633, of the greatest value, and we cannot suiSciently esteem the manliness of a writer, who in those dan- gerous times, exposed the nakedness of the land and the profligacy of its nobility to the eye of its monarch. His description of Edin- burgh is curious, and the pecvJiar habits and customs of its inmates are remarkably interesting. His notice of the plaid and its uses, is strange enough in all conscience. The exception we alluded to, are the funeral verses to the memory of King James, which appeared for the first time in a volume of Transactions published by the Antiquarian Society of Perth. It is not stated there where they were found, but there seems no doubt of their being perfectly genuine. Of the pecuniary value of the original editions, it is not necessary to say more than that they are all of very rare occurrence, and realise large prices whenever they occur for sale. Indeed, of some of them, " The Dreadful! Disaster at Dunglasse " for instance, not more than three copies are known to exist. With the exception of the Travels, of which, when enlarged, there have been several editions, the same maybe said of all Lithgow's prose productions. xlvi Prefatory Remarks. We take diis opportunity of noticing three errata occurring in pages 29, 30 of these prefatory remarks. By some strange oversight, the printer has converted " bonus " into " bonnus," a new reading assur- edly, but one which we suspect will not be accepted even in these days of progress. Then, a little below, the word " buried " is meta- morphosed into " bound." On the other side, on the seventh line from the bottom, the word " he " has been used in place of " we." There may be other errors which have escaped notice, and the only apology we can offer, if it should turn out that such is the case, is the almost impossibility, with every desire to be accurate, to avoid clerical errors, — an excuse which most editors will readily admit. We have still one other duty to perform : that is, to return our thanks to those gentlemen who have given us their assistance in collecting these materials for a life of Lithgow. In particular, we have to offer our best thanks to William Lithgow, Esq. of Stanmore, whose com- munications have been of the greatest use ; to G. R. Kinloch, Esq., of the General Register House, for access to his valuable collection of extracts from the Kirk Session Records of Scotland ; and to David Laing, Esq., Librarian of the Society of Writers to Her Majesty's Sig- net, a gentleman always ready to supply, from his inexhaustible stores, invaluable information not elsewhere to be procured. J. M. 25 Royal Circus, 7«/ji863. APPENDIX. I. — Extract from Letter. — Locke to Carleton.* " The Spanish Ambr. Gondomar is upon going there, is an other at hand for S^- Lewis Lewknor hath warrant to goe meete him. I thinke he cometh this day. The Lo. Gondomar is growne verie colereck, he beate a Scottish man the other day openly with his lists, in the presence of the E. of Gwartzenberg and others, for saying that such a great man in Spayne (of whom the Sp. Ambr- and the Scott who had bin in the inquisition in Spayne were speaking) had not used him like a christian : though the Scottish man tooke his blowes patientlie, yet he was after committed to prison, where he yet remayneth." II. — Mr Lithgowe's Bill of Charges in the MARSHALSEY.f Itt. for IX. weeks dyet and lodgeinge, at XXs. per weeke, J9 o Itt. delivered since in mony in the time of his sicknes, and to discharge his nessessaries, 2 1 5 His comittment feeis, and other charges, i 16 £13 II 8 • State Papers.— Domestic, April 35, 1622, vol. 129, No. 50. f State Papers. — Domestic, June 19, 1622, vol. 131, No. 47. xlviii Prefatory Remarks — III. — Supplication of Aquila Wykes.* To the Right Honourable the Lordes and Others of Her Maiestie's Most Honourable Privie Counsaile. May it please yC honors. According to yor Lops command by yor ho. letter, I humblie pray yor Lops to take informacion of all such pri- soners which remayne under my custodie, by his Maties and yor ho" comandes. But because yor ho" warrants seldome or never express anie cause of their comyttments, I cannot certifie yo' hor of their of- fences. Patrick Moreton, an old Scotts gent, a servant to his Mape, was comytted uppon great accions of debt, eight yeares past^ and hath been allowed on his Matins charge by his Maties directions from tyme to tyme. John Baynard, gent, comytted' 6 yeares past, by warrant from the Lo. Verulam, then Lo. Keeper of the Great Seale of England, for mat- ter tending to treason against his Matins person. And hath bene by yor ho" allowed to bee on his Ma^es charge. Edward Halley, gent, commytted by his Made close prisoner, Aprill 1 6, i6z2, iFor whom yor supplicant hath had no allowance nor pay- ment. John Knight, dark, comitted by yor hors warrant, 21 Aprill 1622. The cause not expressed in yor hors warrant, on his Maiias charge. Thomas Whittgifte, commytted by the Right Ho. Mr Secretarie Calvart, Decembr 12, 1 62 1, and allowed by yor ho'' to bee on his Maries charge. William Lithgowe, committed by the Right Ho. Mr Secretarie Calvart close prisoner, 2 Febr. 1622, and allowed by yo' hor to bee on his Maties charge. Thomas Russell, committed close prisoner by order from the Right Ho. the Lo, Keeper of the Great Seale of England, Julie 8, 1623, for words spoken against the kinges Matie. " State Papers. — Domesdc, Oct. 9, 1623, vol. 153, No. 26. Appendix. xlix John Sweet, a Romish priest, committed by warrant from yor ho>", December 21, 1 621, not allowed to be on his Maties charge. For all which his Maties said prisoners and divers others, sithence Christmas 16 19, discharged by yoi" hors, there remayneth due to yor suppt neere 2000I., as by billes signed by yor hors and others to bee signed by yor hors at yor good pleasures may appear. The disburse- mts and long forbearance whereof^ yor hors suppt, sitting at a great rent for the prison, and having but a small allowance from his Matie, and being inforced to take up money at interest, hath utterlie undone hym. Whereof his moste excellent Matie being informed, hath bene gratiouslie pleased to signifie his pleasure to the Right HoWe Lo. Trea- surer that yor poore suppt should bee pay'd his said debt. And yor poore suppt. by his Maties v^ritt of Privie Seale, being to bee quarter- lie payd as heretofore (till of late yeares) he ever hath bene. Hee most humblie beseecheth yor hoble commiseracion and media- tion to the Right Ho. Lord Treasurer, that yor suppt may bee payd his sayd debt, and be preserved from utter ruyne, who hath most faithftillie to his uttermost power, according to the duties of his place, performed yor hors comandes therein. Aquila Wykes. IV. — Bond of Wm. Lithgow in £200, for good be- haviour and appearance before the Council when required, &c.* Noverint universi per praesentes me Gulielmum Lithgow gene- rosum, teneri et firmiter obligari Serenissimo Domino Regi in ducentis libris bonae et legalis monets Anglise solvendis eidem Domino Regi heredibus et successoribus suis. Ad quamquidem solutionem bene et fideliter faciendam obligo me heredes et administratores meos firmiter * State Papers.— Domestic. Jan. 2.1, 1624, vol. 158, No. 39. 1 Prefatory Remarks — per praesentes sigillo meo sigillatas. Datum zio Januarii anno regni Serenissimi Domini nostri Jacobi, Dei gratia, Anglias, Scotias, Franciae et Hiberniae, Regis fidei defensoris, Angliae quidem Francis et HiberniEe vicesimo primo, Scotiae vero quinquagesimo septimo. [7^1? signature has been cut out, J Signatum et sigillatum et deliberatum in praesentia Georgii More, Geor- gii Guggin, servientum J. Dicken- son, Clerici Consilii. Indorsed. — The condicion of this obligation is such that if the wttin bound Willyam Lithgowe doe hereafter behave himself honestly and dutifully, and tender his apparence whensoever the Lords of his Mast most honble Privie Counsell shall thinke fit to call for him, then this present obligation shalbe voide and of none effect, or els stande, re- maine, and abide in full strength and force. V — William Douglas, the Scotish Poet. The Editor, is very much inclined to suspect that the real author of the "Paranesis to Charles II." v^ras one William Douglas, author of a poem entitled " Grampius' Gratulation to his High and Mightie Monarch, King Charles" w^hich will be found at the end of a volume of " Addresses by the Muses of Edinburgh to his Majesty" printed in small 4to by the heirs of Andro Hart, 1630. As the volume is one of considerable rarity, it was thought that a specimen of Douglas's juvenile muse might not be unacceptable. It is taken from the end, and refers to the departure of royalty from the kingdom of Scotland. The title is — Grampius' Regrate at the Departure of his Majestie. Ah Reader! pause a while, and with the eyes of pittie. Behold how soon my songs of joy turn in a tragick dittie. Appendix. li Heere I lament the lose of what I newly gain'd. The presence of my loving Prince, which hath not long re- main'd. Hei mee, why have I beene thus paradiz'd in joy ? To be so soone plung'd in the maine deludge of all annoy ; Not so the posting spheres out-drive the flowrie Spring, But by a slow serpenting pace the gray hair'd winter bring. But scarce had I well view'd whom long I wished to see. When like a lightning hee did passe in twinckling of an eye ; So doth a poore man dreame hee fangs the Indian treasure. But when hee doth awake, his dreame is past, so is his pleasure ; So to the love sick Nymph, her dreames of love bring harmes. When she awakes, and finds him gone lay dalying in her arms. If this my soone spent joy may not be cald a dreame. Yet of a true realitie 'tis but a glance or gleame. The drudging clown by use can swallow all annoyes. Not capable of divine mirth or heroick joyes. But they who on small glance of Tabors joyes did gaine. Wished that they never might descend into the noysome plaine ; Had I the nectar of his presence never tasted, I could have well the used gall of absence now digested ; But I of late who triumph'd on suns flamming chaire. Am cast down in Eridanus ; cold water quenches fire. Yet what ? Not mee alone this palenesse doth appall. But even a change is in the face of all within this all ; The Heavens begins to weepe, the imber months appeare. The very senslesse things themselves do change their wonted cheere ; The sea doth rore amaine, the sun doth lose his heate. The pleasant groves and arbors shake their pompe among their feete. And who within short tyme list to behold my face. Shall see a snow whyt winding sheete me round about imbrace. Whilst I did view those courts of late minaced the skie. Which now like silent Hermit halls alone deserted ly, M lii Prefatory Remarks. — I did my sad complaint this elegie begin. But loe mine eyes did drown in tears, sighs, bolstered so within That from my trembling hand the quivering pen did fall At my Parnasaus Ochells feete where all the muses dwell ; Whair Helicon is turned in Dovons lively spring. And where Apollo with more skill this dittie may foorth bring.* The ensuing note from the " Catalogues of Scatish Writers "\ in all probability refers to the Panegyrist of the Two Charles, — " William Douglasse, Professor of Theology at old Aberdeen. He wrote a Treatise on Psalmedia, 4to; Item Academiarum Vindicias, 4to; Item, Ora- tionem Panegyricam de Carolo Secundo, 4to ; Item, Stable Truth, 410, 1660. He dyed towards the year 1670. Item, Vindicias Veritatis, 4to, 1655." We have not been able to find any of the above works in the Library of the Faculty of Advocates, with exception of the panegyrical address to Charles, which, as we have previously mentioned, Robert Mylne has placed in the volume of tracts, immediately after Lith- gow's poem. VI. — Patrick Hannay. To the small amount of information contained in the Preface (p. XV.) as to this Scotish Poet may be added the fact that he wrote a volume of verses under the title of " Poems, viz., Philomela ; The Nightingale; Sheretine, and Mariana; A Happy Husband; Elegies on the Death of Queen Anne, with Epitaphs ; and Songs and Sonnets," 8vo. London, 162Z. * This, it is presumed, is intended as a compliment to Sir William Alexander, the poetical Earl of Stirling, whose Barony of Menstrie was situated at the foot of the Ochills, and where he had an occasional residence. One of his titles was Earl of 0ovan or Devon. f Edinburgh, Stevenson, 1833, Svo, p. 50. Appendix. Hii There was a copy of the work described as above in the possession of Mr Bindley, which brought, at the sale of his library, ^35, 14s., and having been purchased for the Sledmere Library, was, at the dispersion of that magnificent collection of books, sold for £42, los. 6d. Perry's copy brought £38, 6s., and Wrangham's copy, £40. The " Songs and Sonnets," which have a separate title, were reprinted by E. V. Utterson, Esq., at his private press at Beldornie, Isle of Wight, M.DCcc.xxi. As twelve copies only were thrown off for private cir- culation, the reprint is very nearly as rare as the original. " Hannay," observes Mr Utterson, " was one of those heroic spirits who, in the latest age of expiring chivalry, drew their swords in the cause of the unfortunate but high-minded daughter of James I., the wife of the Elector Palatine and titular King of Bohemia." As a specimen of his talents, perhaps the reader may not be disin- clined to accept the following Sonnet (p. 1 5) : — Once early as the ruddy bashful morne Did leave Dan Phoebus purple streaming bed. And did with scarlet streames east heav'n adorne, I to my fairest Coelias chamber sped : She Goddesse-like, stood combing of her haire Which like a sable veile did cloath her rounde. Her ivorie combe was white, her hand more faire ; She straight and tall, her tresses trail'd to ground ; Amaz'd I stood, thinking my deare had beene Turned Goddesse, every sense to fight was gone. With bashfull blush my blisse fled, I once scene. Left me transformed (as it were) to a stone. Yet did I wish so euer t* haue remained Had she but stay'd, and I my sight retain'd. In a work to which few persons would think of resorting, and which has been overlooked by Mr Utterson, will be found these par- ticulars of the poet, showing his descent from an old Gallovidian family: — "Ahannay of old, now writ Hannay. The principal family of the name was Ahannay of Sorbie, an old family in Gallo- way ; carried, as in Pont's MS., argent, three roebucks heads couped, azure ; collared, or ; with a bell pendent thereat, gules. But on the liv Prefatory Remarks. frontispiece of a book of curious poems, printed in anno 1622, and written by Mr Patrick Hannay, grandson of Donald Hannay of Sortie, are his arms in tali-duce, with his picture, being — argent, three roe- buck^ heads couped, azure ; with a mollet in the collar-point, for his difference, his father being a younger son of Hannay of Sorbie, with a cross-croislet fitched, issuing out of a crescent sable for crest ; and motto relative thereto. Per ardua ad alta." * Nisbet next mentions that Sorbie has past from the family, but that the representative is Robert Hannay of Kingsmuir in Fife. He also records the existence of another fanuly of the name, " still in Gallo- way, descended of Sorbie," viz., Hannay of Kirkdale. * Nisbet's Heraldry, original edition, 1722-41. Dr Murray has a brief notice of Hannay in his excellent, but not properly appreciated, Literary History of Galloway, second edition, Edinburgh, 183Z, 8vo, p. 268. Oo^'^^'^; ^o /^U noU,j[^ eccna^' 1/ V/^ ' 1/^ ' THE PILGKIMES FAREWELL, To his Natiue Countrey of SCOTLAND: Wherein is contained, in way of Dia- logue, The Joyes and Miseries OF PEREGRINATION. With his Lamentado in his second Trauels, his Pas si o- NADO on the Bhyne, Diuerse other Insertings, and Fare- wels, to Noble Personages, And, The Heeemites Welcome to his third Pilgrimage, &c., Worthie to be seene and read of all gallant Spirits, and Pompe-expecting eyes. By William Lithgow, the Bonaventvre of EvROPB, Asia, and Africa, &c. Patriam meam transire non possntn, omnium una est, extra hanc nemo projici potest. Non patria mihi interdicitur sed locus. In quamcunque terram venio, in meam venio, nulla exilium est sed altera patria est. Pa- tria est ubicunque bene est. Si enim sapiens est peregrinatur, si stultus exulat. Senec.de re. for. Imprinted at Edinburgh, by Andro Hart. Anno Domini 1618. At the Expences of the Author. THE EPISTLE DEDICATORIE, To the nine Pernassian Sisters, The Conseruers of Helicon. Ou sacred Nymphes, which haunt Pernassus Hill, Where Sown flowes, and Demihis run at will : Out from your two-topt Valley shew me grace And on the lower Listes meete mee apace. Infuse in me the Veine, I gladli craue, To sing the sadde FAKEWELS my SOYLE must haue. And yee Supreames of this poore MUSE of mine, As Judges justlie censure this Propine : I bring no Stones from Pactole, Orient Gemmes, Nor Bragges of Tagus, signes of Golden Stemmes : I search not Iris, square-spread clowdie Winges, Nor of the strange Herculian Hydra singes, These Franticke Fansies, I account as vaine. In Yulgare Verse, my FAKEWELS I explaine. If I debord in Stropiate Lines, or then In Methode faile, attache my W9,ndring Pen. This Veine of Nature, and a Mother Wit, Is more than haughtie Schollers well can hit. So this small Fondling, borne of your nine Wombes, Turnes backe, and in your Bosome her intombes. Then nurse your Youngling, and repurge her Veines, And sende her backe in haste, to yeelde mee Gaines. In doing this, to you, and to your Fame, I consecrate my Loue, and her new Name. Yours, longing to bee drunke of Helicon. William Lithgow. To the courteous 'pevuser of these my sad FAEEWELS. DEare Gentle Eeader, graunt mee this small suite, Eeade this ou'r kindlie, and no fault impute : I cannot please the VVorlde, and my selfe too, For that is more, than brauest Sprites can doe, Heere I am plaine, and yet the plainest way, Is fittest for the Diuine Muses aye. A greater Worke, I meane to put in Light, But LONDON claimes it of a former Eight. And if thou knewst how quicke, and in small time. This VYorke I wrote, thou wouldst admire my Eime, Though mightst demaund the Eeason why I sing : And done ; this Answere, I would to thee bring : There's some that sweare, I cannot reade, nor write, And hath no judgement, for to frame or dite. And to confound their blinde absurd conceat, My Muse breakes foorth, to shew their Errour great. These Calumnies, enuious Wormes spue foorth : They grieue to see mee set at anie Worth. The Cause is this, These Giftes I haue, they lacke, And from my Merite, they their Malice take. ! if I might their Names in Print foorth set, A just Eeuenge, their just Desert should get. But to the V Vise, the Learned and the Kinde, The Noble Heart, and to the Vertuous Minde, 1 humblie prostrate mee, my Muse, my Paines, If I can win your Loue, there's all my Gaines. To the Courteous, still humble. And to the Knaue as hee deserues, William Lithgow, Some Extemporaneall Lines, Written at the verie view of this Foeme going to the Presse, in comendation of the Author his Trauels and Poesies. PB,AYSE-worthie Pilgrime, whose so spiring Sprite, Bests not content, incentred in one Soyle : Thy Trauels pas^, though alwayes exquisite, Biuertes thee not, from well-intended Toyle. Two Voyages, of Wonder-breeding Worth, And can they not enough thy Fame setfoorth ? In thy first Course, thy restlesse Paines ou'r past. The Bockie Alpes, and Mountaines Pyrhenees, High Atlas, ^tna, and Olympus wast. With all those Yles, q/Mediterrane Seas. Olde Athens, Kome, Troy, Byzans, and ludaea, iEgypt, both Arabs, Desart, and Petreea. Then chiefest thinges, of South, by thee were scene. Both in the Ties, and in the Continent : What rare in Europe, Africke, Asia, beene, But few they are, therewith so well acquaint. With lordane, Nylus, and Euphrates strand. And all the Bareties, of that Holie Land. Thy lourney next, did subject to thy sight, The Emprours Boundes, and Germane States of Worth. Braue Boheme, Transyluania, Hungar wight, And all the Nations, to the furthest North : Great Ehyne, and Volg, from DanuMe declynde, The Hans Towns, Dans, Swenes, and Prouinces combynde. What restes then, for thy restlesse minde to doe ? What lourney next, then shalt thou undertake ? Where Where shall thy neare way-weari'd Leggea nowe goe f And whither mindst thou Tiowe this voyage make ? All vnder Artike Pole, since thou not cares, For Antipodes thy passage thou prepares. And since nought can thy Sprite from Trauelles seuer, Guiana marke, Virginia by the way, And Terra de la Feugo eeke consider. In fortunate Tlandes, pray thee make no stay, Least thou, aUur'd, by sweetnesse of that Soyle, By Birth, thafs due, thou so thy Countrey spoyU. But what in thee most (LiTHGow) I admire, Tis flowing Veine, of thy Patheticke Quill, Fullie infus'd, with Acedalian fire, Whilst to thy Soyle, thou singst thy last Farewell. As Trauelles strange, doth Pilgrime, thee decore. So Poemes rare, shall thee aduancefarre more. As deepest Daungers can thee not affray. No Lyon, Tiger, nor stupendious thing. No Barbar, Turke, nor Tartar can thee stay : By Trauelles to thy Minde, Contentment bring : Cease not to sing, what thou doest see by sight. That Countrey Praise, and Ignorants, get light. Ignoto. To his singular Friend, William Lithgow. WHiles I admire, thy first and second wayes. Long tenne yeeres wandring, in the Worlde-wide Boundes : I rest amaz'd, to thinke on these Assayes, That thy first Trauaile, to the Worlde foorth-soundes : In brauest sense, compendious, ornate Stile, Didst show most rare aduentures to this Yle. And nowe thy seconde Pilgrimage I see, At London thou resolu'st, to put in light : Thy Lyrian wayes, so fearefull to the eye, And Garamonts their strange amazing sight. Meane while, this Worke, alFordes a three-folde Gaine In furie of thy fierce Castalian Veine. As thou for Trauelles, brook'st the greatest Name, So voyage on, increase, raaintaine the same. W. R. To the Kinges most excellent Majestie. S T Mightie Monarch, of Great Britanes Yle, Vouchsafe to looke on this small Mite I bring ; Which prostrate comes, cled in a barren style, To Thee, Kinglie Poet! Poets King. And if one gracious looke, fall from thy face, then my Muse, and I, finde life, and grace. Euen as the Sunne-shine, of the new-borne Day, From Thetis watrie trembling Caue appeares. To decke the lowring Leaues in fresh Array, Which sable Night, iauolues in frozen Feares : And Elitropian-^k&, display their Beautie, Unto their Soueraigne Phoebe, as bound by duetie. So Thou th' Aurore, of my prodigious Night, Lendes Breath vnto my long-worne wearie Strife : And from thy Beames, my Darknesse borrowes light, T cheare the Day, of my desired Life. So Great Apollo, as thou shin'st, so fauour. That I, mongst thousands, may Thy Goodnesse sauour. Great Pious Paterne, Patrone of Thine owne. This rauisht Age, admires Thy Vertuous Wayes : Whose Princelie Actes, Kemotest partes haue knowne, And wee line happie, in Thine happie Dayes, Thy Wisdome, Learning, Gouernment, and Care, None can expresse, their Merifes as they are. Long mayst Thou raigne, and long may GOD aboue, Confirme Thine Heart, in thy Great Kinglie Loue. The most Htimble and Ingenochiat Farewell of William Lithgow. To the High and Mightie Prince, CHARLES, Prince of Great Britane. &c. LOe heere (braue Prince) I striue thy Worth to prayse, But cannot touch, the least of thy Desertes ; I showe good-will, let brauer Spirits rayse. Thy Name, thy Worth, thy Greatnesse, and good partes : Late famous Henry, did not leaue the earth, (The Heauens esteem'd the Earth too base for him) . Till thou his second selfe, in blood, in birth, Hadst strength to his mast Princely parts to dim : Sweet youth, in whome, thy Grandsires worth reuiues, And noble vertues, are renew'd againe, In Thee, the hope, of that Succession hues : Whose braue beginning, cannot ende in vaine. Most hopefull Image, of thy vertuous Sire, And greatest Hope, of that renouned Pace, These Unite Kingdomes, limite thy desire, From seeking Conquest, in a Forraine place. This Noble Yle yeeldes matter in such store. For thy braue Sprite, to gaine a glorious Name : And rayse thy State, all Europe yeeldes no more, Heere stay, and striue, to match thy Fathers Fame. Who knowes, but thou, resembling him in face, Mayst one day liue, to equall him in Place ? So euer Happie Prince, I humblie bring. This Eccho of Farewell, Farewell I sing. Your Highnesse most prostrate and Obsequious Oratour, WILLIAM LITHGOW. To the most Reuerende Fathers in GOD, My Lordes Archbishops of Sainct Andrewes and Glas- gow, ^x. And to the rest of the Eeuered L. Bishops of Scotland- Scorne to flatter, and yee Keuerende Lords, I know, as much abhorre a flattring name ; What in my power, this simple meane affords I heere submit before your eyes the same. I haue small Learning, yet I learne to frame My Will agreeing to my wandring Mind ; And yee graue Pillars of Religious fame, The onlie Paternes of Pietie wee find : How well is plant our Church, and what a kind, Of Oiuill Order, Policie, and Peace, Wee haue, since Heauens, your Office haue assign'd, That Loue aboundes, and bloodie jarres they cease : Mechanicke Artes, and Vertues doe increase : The Crowne made stronger, by your Spirituall care ; Yee Hue as Oracles, in our learned Greece, And shine as Lampes, throughout this Land all where : The stiffe-neck'd Rebelles, of Keligion are By you press'd downe, with vigilance but rueth ; So Hue great Lightes, and of false Wolues beware, Yee sound the Trumpets of Eternall Trueth : And justlie are yee call'd to such an hight, To helpe the Weake, defend the poore mans Right: So sacred Columnes of our chiefest Weale, I humblie heere bid your great Worths farewell. Your Lo-euer deuouted Oratour to his death, William Lithgow. B To his euer-honoured Lords, the right noble Lords, ALEXANDER, Earle of Dvmfermeling, Lord Fyuy, Great Chanceller of Scotland, (&c. THOMAS, Lord BINNIE, Lord President of the Col- ledge of lustice, and his Maiesties Secretarie for Scotland, &c. And to the rest of the most ludicious and honourable Lords, the Judges and Senaiours of the high Court and Senate of this KhigdotM, ^c. jS thou art first (great Lord) in thy great worth, ] So thou dost line a Loadstarre to this North : [Next to our Prince, in all supreme affaires, JArt chiefest ludge, and greatest wrong repairs. A second Solon, on the Arch of Fame, Makes Equitie and lustice scale thy name. And art indued with Faculties diuine. From whose sage Breast, true beames of Vertue shine. Out of thy fauour, then true Noble Lord, To this my Orphane Muse, one looke afford. AND PRESIDENT, lest flattrie should bee deem'd, I scarce may sing the height. Thou art esteem'd : Euen from thy Birth, auspicuous Starres fore-tolde. That mongst the Best, thy name should bee enrolde. The source of Vertue, who procures true peace. A third Licurgus, in this weU-rul'd Greece : VVTiom Learning doth endeare, and wisdome more, That ^^Zos like, supportes our Senate glore : Then as thine honours, in thy merit shine. Vouchsafe (graue Lord) to fauour this propine. AND yee the rest. Sage SENATOURS, who swey The course of lustice, whome all doth obey. Whose wisest censures, vindicates vnright, To you I bring this Mite, scarce worthie sight. Yee doe the cause, the person not respect. And simple-Ones, from Proudlinges doe protect. The Widdow findes her Eight, the Orphane sort, And Weaklinges yee with lustice doe comfort. Yee with euen handes Astrceas Ballance holde, ludges of Eight, and Lampes of Trueth enrolde, Long may yee Hue, and flourish in that Seate, Pationes of Poore, and Pillars of the State : That lustice, Law, Eeligion, Loue, and Peace, By your great meanes may in this Land encrease. Your Lo. most A fold and quotidian Oratour, William Lithgow. To the truely noble, and honourable Lord, lOHN, EAELE OF MAEEE, &c. Lord high Thesaurer of SCOTLAND, &c. AMongst these Worthies of my worthlesse paines, I craue thy Worth would Patronize my Quill : Which granted, then, there's my greatest gaines. If that your Honour doth affect good- will. And whiles I striue, to praise thy condigne parts, Thy selfe, the same, more to the Worlde impartes. Though noblie borne, thy vertue addes thy fame, And greater credite is't, when man by merit, Attaines the title of True Honoures Name, Than when voide cyphers, doe the same inherit, For Fortune frownes, when Clownes beginne to craue, And Honour scornes to stoupe vnto a slaue. Euen as the shade, the substance cannot flee. And Honour from true Vertue not degrade : Though thou fleest Fame, yet Fame shall follow thee : For Power is lesse than Worth, Worth Power made. And I, I wish, GrOD may thy Eace preserue, So long as Sunne and Moone their Course conserue. Your L. low prostrate Oratour, WILLIAM LITHGOW. To the Magnanimous, Renowned, and most Valourous Lorde, 1 H N Earle of Monteose, LOBB OBAHAME, <&c. GEant this (graue Lord) to patronize my paines, This my Conflict, before thine eyes I bring : If thou affect good will, there's my gaines. 1 show my best, though plaine, the trueth I sing : A two-folde debt mee bindes. Thy Worth, Thy Name, That still protectes all them that hegbt a Gkahame. So (Noble Earle) accept these small Effectes, Thy Vertue may draw Vales ou'r my Defectes. To lift thy worth, on admirations eye. It farre exceedes, the reach of my engine : But this Cgreat Lord) I dare attest to thee, While breath indures, this wandring breast is thine : And that great lone, 1 found in thy late Sire, I wish the Heauens the same in thee inspire : And as his late renowne, reuiues his name, So imitate his life, increase his fame. That thou when dead, thy Race the same may doe, As thou, I hope, shalt once excell thy Father ; That time to time, thy long successours too, May each exceede the former, yea, or rather, The one ingraft, the other stampe it more, That who succeedes, may adde anothers glore. So shall thy selfe liue famous, and thy race, Shall long enjoye the earth, then Heauenlie grace. Your Lo. most seruile aeruitour on his low bended Knees, William Lithgow. A CONFLICT, Betweene the Pilgrim e and his Muse : Dedicate to rny Lorde Chahame, EARLE MONTROSE, &c. Muse. Fthis small sparkeof thy great flame had sight happie I, but more if thou suruay mee ; Thy dying Muse, bewailing comes to light, And thus begins, halfe forc'd for to obey thee : restles man ! thy wandring I lament. Ah, ah, I mourn, thou canst not Hue cStent. PUgrime. To Hue below my minde, I cannot bow. To loue a priuate Hfe, there I smart ; To mount beyonde my meanes, I know not how. To stay at home still cross'd, I breake mine heart. And Muse take heede, I finde such loue in Strangers, Makes mee affect all Heathnicke tortring dangers. Miise. But, deare Soule, that life is full of cares. Great heat, great colde, great want, great feare, great paine, A passionate toyle, with anxious despaires, Where plagues and pestes, and murders grow amaine : Thy Pilgrimage, a tragicke stadge of sorrow. May spende at night, and nothing on the morrow. A CONFLICTi Pilgrime. No ; Pilgrimage, the Well-spring is of Wit, The clearest Fountaine, whence graue Wisdome springs : The Seate of Knowledge, where Science still doth sit, A breathing ludgement, deckt with prudent things. This, thou call'st Sorrow, great loye is, and Pleasure : If I bee rich in Minde, no Wealth I measure. Muse. But, 0, recorde, how manie times I know, With bitter Teares, thou long'dst to see this Soyle : And come, thou weariest, and wouldst make a show. There is no pleasure, but in Forraine Toyle. And so forgetst the Sowre. and loath'st the Sweete, To wracke thy Bodie, and to bruise thy Feete : Pilgrime. All Kares are deare. Contentment followes Paine, No Heathnicke partes, can bee surueighed, but feare, And dangers too : But heere's a glorious gaine, I see those thinges, which others haue by eare : They reade, they heare, they dreame, reportes aflPect, But by experience, I trie the effect. In Cabines, they on Mappes. and Globes, finde out, The wayes, the lengths, the breadth, the heights, the Pole : And they can wander all the Worlde about. And lie in Bedde, and all thy sightes controle. Though by experience, thou hast nat'rall sight, They haue by learning, supernat'rall light. Pilgrime. Thou knowst Muse, T had rather see one Land, Be true eye-sight, than all the Worlde by Cairt : Two Birdes in flight, and one fast in mine hand. Which of them both, belonges most to my pairt : One eye-witnesse is more, than ten which heare, I dare affirme the Trueth, when they forbeare. BETWEENE THE PILGEIME, &c. Muse. Heere thou preuail'st, with Mis'ries I must daunt, Thy Braines : Recall the house-bred Scorpion sting, The hissing Serpent, in thy way that haunts. The crawling Snakes, which dammage often bring : The byting Viper, and the Quadraxe spred, That serue for Courtaines, to thy Campane Bedde. Filgrime. I know the World-wide Fieldes my Lodging is. And ven'mous thinges, attende my fearefull sleepe : But in this Case, my Comfort is oft this. The WatchfuU Lizard, my bare Face doeth keepe. By day, I feede her, she saues mee by night. And so to trauaile, I haue more than right. Muse. The cracking Thunder, of the stormie Nightes. The fierie burning, of the parching Day, The Sauage dealing, of those Barbrous Wightes, The Turkish Tributes, and Arabian Pay, May bee strong meanes, to stoppe thy swift returne, To make thee liue in rest, and heere sojourne. Filgrime, AH these Extreames, can neuer make mee shrinke. Though Earth-quakes mooue mee, more than all the rest. And I rejoyce, when sometimes I doe thinke On what is past, what comes the LOBD knowes best. I can attempt no plolte, and then attaine, Vnlesse I suffer losse, in reaping gaine. Muse. The Seas and Floods, where fatall perills lie, The rau'nous Beastes, that liue in VVildernesse : The irkesome Woods, the sandie Desarts drie. The drouth thou thol'st, in thy deare bought distresse ; I doe conjure these Feares to make thee stay. Since I, nor Eeason, can not mooue delay. A CONFLICT, Pilgrime. Though scorching Sunae, and scarce of raine I bide, These plagues thou sing'st, and else what can befall : My minde is firme, my standart cannot slide. The light of Nature, I must trauell call : The more I see, the more I learne to know, Since I reape gaine thereby, what canst thou show? Muse. The losse of Friendes, their counsell, and their sight, The tender loue, in their rancountringes oft ; In this, thy brightest day, turnes darkest night, When thou must court harde heartes, and leaue the soft. What greater pleasure, can maintaine thy mirth. Than Hue amongst thine owne, of blood and birth ? Filgrime. The fremdest man, the truest friend to me, A stranger is the Sainct, whome I adore : For manie friendes, from faithfull friendship flee, Law-bound affection failes than framelinges more. What alienes show, it lastes, and comes of loue. But consanguin'tie dies, so I remoue. Muse. A rolling stone, can neuer gather mosse : Age will consume, what painefuU youth vpliftes : Bee carefuU, bee, and scrape some mundane drosse. And in thy prime, lay out thy wittie shiftes. When thou grow'st old, & want'st both means & health, O what a kinsman then is worldlie Wealth ! PilgriTne. The Sea-man and the Souldiour, had they feare, Of what ensues, might flee their fatall sorrow : Who cloathes the lillies, that so faire appeare, Prouides for mee to day, and eke to morrow : Liue where I will GODS prouidence is there, So I triumph in minde, a figge for care. BETWEENE THE PILGRIME, &c. If (deaxe to mee) thou wouldst resolue to stay, Our Noble Peares, they would maintaine thy state : If not, I should finde out another way, To moue the worlde to succour thine hard fate : And I shall cloathe, and lende, and feede thee too : Affect my veine, and all this I will doe. PUgrime. To feede mee (Slaiie) thou knowst I am thy Lord, And can command thee, when I please myselfe : Wouldst thou to rest, my restlesse minde accorde. And baUance deare-bought Fame, with terrene Pelfe ? No, as the Earth, helde but one Alexander, So, onelie I, auow. All where to wander. What hast thou wonne, when thou hast gotte thy will ? A momentrie shaddowe of strange sightes : Though with content, thou thy conceite doest fill. Thou canst not lende the worlde these true delightes : Though thyselfe loue, to these attemptes contract thee. Where ten thee praise, there's fiue that will detract thee, Filgrime. It's for mine owue mindes sake, thou knowst I wander, Not I, nor none, the worldes great voyce can make : Thinkst thou mee bound, to them a compt to render. And would vaine fooles, I traueU'd for their sake : No, I well know, there is no gallant spirit, (Vnlesse a knaue) but will yeelde mee my merit. Thou trauel'st aye, but where's thy meanes to doe it ? Thou hast no landes, no exchange, nor no rent. There's no familiare sprite doeth helpe thee to it. And yet I maruell how thy time is spent. This shifting of thy wittes, should breede thee loathing. To Uue at so great rate, when friendes helpe nothing, C A CONFLICT, Pilgrime. The Worlde is wide, GODS Prouidence is more, And Cloysters are but Foote-stooles to my Bellie : Great Dukes and Princes, oint my Palme with Ore, And iZomawe -Clergic Golde, with griede I swellie. It comes as V Vinde, and slides away like Water : These meritorious men, I daylie flatter. Muse. Mak'st thou no conscience, to deale with Church-men so ? When they for Limbus, these giftes giue I know : They freelie giue, thou prodigall letst goe : And done, derid'st, the Charitie they show. But friend, they binde thee, to thine hoL"e Beades, To Pater nosters, Mariaes, and to Creedes. PUgrime. Forbeare in time, I dare not heere insist. An Eele can hardlie well bee grip'd that's quicke : From duetie and desert, I now desist. If s no great fault, ten thousand Friers to tricke, And lesuites too, which PapaU harme fore-sees, These Ghostlie Fathers, I oft blinde their eyes. Desist, and I forbeare, so leaue this point, Fear'st thou not Sicknesse, Dangers of the Pest ? The Fluxes, Feuers, Agues that disjoint. Thy vitall powers, and spoyle thee of thy best : If thou fall'st sicke, where bee thine Helpers then ? Then miserable Thou, forlorne of Men. PUgrime. But, my Loue, remarke what I must say. The greatest men in trauaile that fall sicke, In Hospitalles, for health, are forc'd to stay. The circumstance I neede not now to speake : Doctors they haue, good Linnen, and good Fare, And giues it Gratia, Medicine, and Ware. BETWEENE THE PILGBIME, &c. Muse. Thou here borne North, vnder a CKmate colde, I thinke farre South, with heat should not agree : And in my minde, I this opinion holde. These vigrous heats, at last thy death shall bee : I know these Nigroes, of the Austriale Sunne, Haue not endur'd, such heat, as thou hast done. Pil^rime. For to conserue mine health, I eate not much : When I drinke Wine, it's mixt with Water aye : They are but Griuttones, Riote doeth auouch, I trauaile in the Night, and sleepe all Day. My disposition and complexion gree, I am not sanguine, nor too pale, you see. Muse. A murthrer judg'd, set on a wheele aboue, How many pinnes, for murther hast thou tolde ? No lesse than twentythree, I will approue, And dar'st thou in these dead mens wayes bee bolde ? Think'st thou thy fortune, better still than theirs ? The Foxe runnes long, at last entrapp'd in snares. Pilgrime. AU that haue breath must die, and man much more, Some here, some there, his Horoscope is so, Bewee are borne, our weirds they poste before. None can his dest'ny shunne, nor from it goe. Nothing than death more sure, vncertaine too, Who aymes at fame, all hazards must allowe. Muse. But swollen man in thy conceat, take heed. What great distresse, of hunger has thou tholde ? That often times, for one poore Loaue of bread. Thou wouldst ("if poss'ble) giuen a worlde of gold : Eemember of thy sterile Lybian wayes. Where thou didst fast, but meate or drinke nyne dayes. A CONFLICT, Pilgrime. Dispeopled desartes, bred that deare-bought griefe, No state but change, no sweete without some gall : Yet in Tobacco, I found great reliefe, The smoake whereof expell'd that pinching thrall : And for that time, I graunt, I drunke the water That through my bodie came, insteade of better. Muse. The vaprous Serene, of the humide night. Which sprinkled oft, with foggie dew thy face, Gaue to thy bodie, and thine head such weight, When thou awak'd, couldst scarce aduance thy pace : And scarce of Springes, did so thy thirst increase. Thy Skinne growne lumpie, made thy strength decrease. Pilgrime. I yeelde, thou knowst these thinges as well as I, But when I slept, great care I had to couer My naked face, and kept my bodie drie, The manner how, I neede it not discouer. Though thou object these mistes, the clouds forth-spew. All thy Brauadoes cannot make mee rew. Muse. The Galley-threatning death, where slaues are whipt. Each banke holdes foure, foure chaines ty'd in one ring ; Where twise a day, poore they are naked stripit. And bath'd in blood, their woefull handes they wring : They roll still scourg'd, on bread and water feede, Twise this thou scap'd, the third time now take heede. Filgrime. At Oephalone, and Nigroponte I know. And Lystra too, three Slaueries I escap'd ; And tenne times G-alleotes, made a cruell show, At Little lies, to haue mee there intrapp'd : But their attemptes still failde, I thanke my God, Yet I no way can liue, if not abrode. EETWEENE THE PILGRIME, &g. Muae. But ah recall, the Hearbes, rawe Bootes yee eate, White Snails, greene Frogs, gray streams, hard beds derayd : And if this austiere life, seeme to thee meete, I yeelde to thine experience long assayd. Then stay, stay, succeeding times agree. To reconcile thy minde, thy meanes, and thee. Pil^rime. To stay at home, thou knowst I cannot liue : To liue abroade I know, the worlde maintaines mee : To bee beholden to a Churle, I grieue : And if I want, my dearest friende disdaines mee. And so the forraine face to mee is best, I lacke no meanes, although I lacke my rest. Muse. I graunt it's true, and more esteem'd abroade. But zeale growes colde, and thou forgetst the way : Better it were at home to serue thy GOD, Than wandring still, to wander quite astray : Thou canst not trauaile, keepe thy conscience too, For that is more, than PUgrimes well can doe. Pilgrime. I wonder Muse, thou knowst to heare a Messe, I make no breach of Law, but for to learne. And if not curious, then the worlde might gesse, I hardlie could twixt good and ill disceame : I enter not their Kirkes, as vpon doubt Of faith ; but their strange erroures to finde out. Mvse. well replyde, but yet a greater spotte, Thou bowst thy knees, before their Altars hie : And when comes the Leuation, there's the blotte ; Thou knockst thy breast, and wallowst with thine eye : And when the little Bell, ringes through the streete, Thou prostrate fall'st, their Sacrament to greete. A CONFLICT, PUgrirrie. Thou fail'st therein, I still fledde Superstition : But I confesse, I got the holie Blessing : And vnder colour of a rare Contrition, The Papall Panton heele, I feU a kissing. But they that mee mistake, are base-borne Clownes : I did it not for Loue, but for the Crownes. ! There's Eeligion, Dissimulation, Vtrunque is thy Stile, I feare no lesse : And from a borrow'd ^quiuocation, Would'st frame thy Will, and then thy Will redresse, No, Pilgrime, no. That's not the Way to Heauen, To make the Euen to glee, the Gleede looke euen. Pilgrime. Away vaine Foole : I scorne thy pratling Braine : When I confesse the Trueth, thou mee accuses. 1 never soldo my Soule for anie Gaine, Nor yet abus'd my Minde, with Forraine Uses, As manie home-bred heere Domestickes doe, In changing State, can change their Conscience too. I grant there's some for Gaine, their Soules doe sell : But learne the good, and soone forget the ill : A Vale at home ou'r-drawne, I plainlie tell. Is fit for thee, though not fit for thy Will. And bee aduis'd, Eepentance comes too late. He mournes in vaine, that spends both Time and State. PilgriTne. I loathe to line, long in a priuate place : My Soyle I loue, but I am borne to wander. And I am glad, when I Extreames imbrace, Sweete Sowre Delightes, must my Contentment rander. So, so, I walke, to view Hilles, Townes, and Plaines, Each day new Sightes, new Sightes consume all Paines. BETVVEENE THE PILaEIME, &c. Muse. Liue aye in Paines, ambitious Pilgrime then, Since thy proude Breast, disdaines thy Mindes surrandring : It's thou who striu'st to ouer-match all men, In Perrill, Paines, in Trauaile, and in VVandring. Striue stiU, I feare that some Desasters grow, Long swimme the Fish, so long as Waters flow. Pilgrime. Leaue off, and boast no more, no more I sing : I rest resolu'd, holde thou thy peace the while : And to the Eaele Montrose, I humblie bring, Our mutuall Conflict, in this barren Stile. And so Illustrious Lord, approue my saying, Oonuict my Muse, and let mee goe astraying : To this small Suite, if that your Honour yeeldes, Shee shall perforce with mee affront the Fieldes. He&re endeth the Conflict, betweene the PUgrime, and his Muse. To the Right honourable and Nohle Lord, ALEXANDER, Earle Home, Lord Dunglasse, &c. THese meane abortiue lines, of my Lament, On my low-bended knees I sacrifice them To thee, on whome my greatest loue is bent : They gladlie come, and I doe authorize them. And so this simple mite with loue receaue, If thou affect good will, no more I craue. To paye the debt I owe of my great duetie, Which in large bondes, lies bound to thy great worth, Is more than I can doe, vnlesse by fewtie, I striue (though weake) thy vertues to set foorth : Yet for my debt, my duetie, and my prayer, I'me bound on earth, and GOD will bee thy payer. Thy noble feasting of our gracious King, And kindlie weUcome, to the ENGLISH Kinde ; ! had I time, the trueth that I might sing, Thy great desert, a just reward should finde : But my FareweUes mee poste, yet by the way. Thy Vertue, in thy Worth, triumphes each day. Compendious workes, on high stupendious thinges, Which brauest wittes, wring from inuentions braine, No knowledge yeeldes, but admiration bringes, To vulgare sortes, and to the wisest pane : I sing but plainhe in Domesticke verse, The watrie accents, of a pUgrimes herse. So (worthy earle) protect my LcumentaxJb, And done, I scorne the wretched worlds Brauado. Your Lo, most incessant Oratour, William Lithgow. THE PILGRIMES LAMENTADO, In his second Pilgrimage. ]Ut of the showrie shade of Sorrowes Teares, i Where in the darkest Pit of Griefe I lay, 'L trembling come, astonisht with these Feares, - Of stormie Fortune, frowning on mee aye : For in her fatall frownes my wracke appeares. And from the coneaue of my watrie Plaintes, I powre abroade, a VVorlde of Discontentes. Shall I, like LempJios, mourne to lengthen life ? O ! I must mom-ne, or else this Breath dissolues ; No greater jraine, than mine in-cloystred Strife, Which Sea-waue-like, to tosse mee still resolues, For so the Passions of my Minde are rife : There's none hke mee, nor I like vnto none : None but my selfe, in mee my selfe must grone. These joyes that I possess'd, are backward fled. My sweete Contentes, to sowre Displeasure turnes : My quiet Eest, Ambition captiue led. And where I dwell the Pagcme there sojournes. My Sommer Smiles, on Winter Blastes are spred. AH Loue-sicke Dreames, of Worldlie loyes are gone. .Mine Hopes are fled, and I am left alone. D Alone The Pilgrimes Lamentado, Alone I mourne in solitarie Songes, And oft bewaile mine infranchized lotte : The Heauens beare Vitnesse of my long past Wronges, Which best can judge, how this blinde Worlde doth dote. This pondred so, my bleediag heart it longes, To bee dissolu'd, made free, or t/d more fast, Vnto the Substance, of a Shaddaw past. I wish, and yet I cannot haue my wUl, It's onlie I, must helplesse spende my Mones : With out-run Teares, mine out-worne Bedde I fill : And Sighes disbende, whiles I retaine sadde Grrones, Which both constrain'd, conuert a sobbing ill. So when my Malecontentes to Sorrow grew, , These pale Oomplaintes, from my wanne Visage flew : Ah haplesse 1 1 vnmatch'd in matchlesse Woe, Plagu'd with the terrour of horrendious strokes, Am Ciretome-like, transported to and froe, Twixt Sandie Scylla, and Charibdin Eockes : Ship-wracjie I finde, where euer that I goe. Though once I scalde, the scope of my desire, No sooner vp, but all was set on fire. Like Pha'ton young, too fast my Sorrowes bred, And bridle gaue, when I should haue holde fast : On the Pegasian winges poore I was led. With course so swift, made all my Pow'rs agast, Till at the last I found that Fawnes mee fed : Then tooke I breath, and saw how I was reft, The poorest man, that in the worlde was left. Meane-while I stroue against the strongest Streames, Whilst my small strength, waxt weaker tllan a Stroe : The In his second Pilgrimage. The Sunne dissolu'd in darke declining Beames, And I in Moone-shine colde was tortred so, That all my look'd-for loyes, became but Dreames. Still driuen backe, from my transported Hope, I rang'd the Hill, could neuer reach the toppe. Yet once I sat vpon the fatall Wheele, Whiles that the second Eound, came round about : Then fell I backward, hanging by the Heele, Astonisht of my Change, I stoode in doubt. If I should mount, then fall, more turninges feele. Which when conceiu'd, I euer swore to mount. Ten thousand falles, should neu'r my Breast confront. I cannot fall no lower than the Earth, From which I came, and to the which must goe : This borrowd Breath, is but a glaunce of Mirth, No constant life, this trustlesse Worlde doth show. The surest man, the meanest stile in Birth, Great Falles, attende great Persons, and their Glore, For when they fall, they cannot rise no more. Care I for Golde ? I scorne that filthy Drosse : It's Worldlinges God, so Mundanes loue his sight, Shall I despaire ? Or care I for my losse ? Although I want, which once was mine by right, No double on you wanes, still crosse on crosse : I, (7a»ieZe-like, beare all vpon my Backe, And liue content, and there's the thought I take. yet fragile flesh, is friuolous and proude. Some sad disgust, gaue mee this second toyle : I sing but low, I may not sing too lowde. Who winnes the Fielde, may triumph in the Spoyle. D 2 I, van- The P'tlgrimes Lamentado, I, vanquisht I, must liue vnder the Shrowde, Of farre-fled Fortune, scattred to a Kagge : Mine Haire-cloath Gowne, my Burdon, and my Bagge. All Her'mite-Vike, my Face ou'r-cled with Haire. Once my faire Fielde, is now turn'd Wildernesse r I harbour'd Beautie, within my full Moone Share, Where nought restes now, but Wrinckles of Distresse. Europiane Sorrow, and Asiaticke Care : The Afriche Threatninges, and Arabiane Terrour, Makes my pale Face, become a bloodlesse Mirrour, I Pennance make, if Pennance could sufBce ; I forward wrestle, gainst all Forraine Care. I still contende, this wandring Breast to please : I trauaile aye, and yet I know not where. Led with the Whirle-winde, and Furie of Unease. And when I haue considered all my strife, happie hee, who neuer knew this life ! A life of sadnesse, still to line estranging : A life of griefe, turmoylinges, and displeasure : A life fastidious, aye to run a ranging. j- A life in bounding, bondlesse WUl no measure : A life of tormentes, subject to all changing. A life of paine, where fearfuU Danger dwelles, A life, whose passions counter-match the Helles^ My Sommer Oloathing, is my Winters VVeede : Times change, and I, I cannot change ApparreU : The Spring's my loathing, and the Haru'st my neede : Each Seasons course, by monthlie fittes mee quarrell, And in their Threatninges, threaten to exceede. From Weeke to Day, from Day to hourelie minute. Still I opprest, must pay my Passions tribute. In his second Pilgrimage. From tortring toyles, to tortring feares amaine, Poore I, distrest, am tost with great extreames : When I looke backe, to see the Worlde againe, what a clowdie show of eclips'd Beames 1 doe beholde I and seene, I them disdaine. Heere mournes the Poore, there foame the rich & great : From Swane to Prinze, I see no quiet state. What art thou Worlde ? World, a Worlde of woes, A momentarie shaddow of vaine thinges. The Acheron of paine, so I suppose, A transitorie helper of Hirelinges, Which nought but sorrowes to mine eyes disclose : Opinion rules thy state, selfe-loue thy lord, To him who merites least, doth most afford. Thou traitour Worlde, art fraught with bitter cares. Pride, Spite, Deceite, Greede, Lust, ambitious Glore : Thy dearest loyes, depende vpon Despaires, And still betrayes them most, most thee implore, Thy bound-slaues wrestle, hurling in thy Snares. Whose course as Winde, instable is and reaues, In crossing brauest Sprites, aduancing Slaues. I smile to see thy Worldling puft in pride. Though meanlie borne, and no desert, if rich, Hee liues, as if his mansion could not slide. Such proude conceites, deceiue thy sillie Wretch, Whiles in his blinde-folde humoures hee would bide* And so they loue, and I abhorre thy sight : They dwell in darknesse, and I Hue in light. Thou lead'st thy Oaptiues, headlong into traines, And in thy trustlesse show, beguiles thy Louer : D 3 VVho The Pilgrimee Lamentado, Who most affectes thee, greatest are his paines, Thy verded face, contaminates thy proouer, And with false showes, besottes his braine-sicke braines. So whilst thy mundane lines, his gaines are losses, And dead, for loue of thee, eternall crosses. Thou seem'st without, more brighter than the Golde, Ten thousand vales, of glistring showes decore thee : But hee whose eyes, once saw thine inward mould, Would loathe to liue, so vainelie to adore thee. Whose counterfeit contentes are bought and solde. A painted Whore, the Maske of deadlie sinne, Sweete faire without, and stinking foule within. Who puts trust in thee, whome thou deceiu'st not ? Who loues thy sight, but thou conuerts 't in death ? Who sets his joyes on thee, and him bereaues not ? Who most is thine, findes shortest time to breathe ? Who cleaues most to thy loue, and then him leaues not ? Who would thee longest see, what trouble choaks him ? Who thee imbrace, Enuie to wrath prouokes him. Thy pleasures I compare vnto the flight Of a swift Birde, which by a window glides : A glaunce, a twinckUng, a variable sight, As dreames euanish, so thy glorie slides, Whose thornie cares, thy joyes downe-sway, with weight ; And could thy wretch, but learne to know the trueth, Hee would contemne thee, both in Age and Youth. 1 see the changing course, of thy selfe-gaine, There one buyes, the other buildes, the thirde selles, The fourth hee begges, and the fifth againe, Beginnes to seeke the path, the first fore-telles : For In Ms second Pilgrimage. For in thy fickle force, thy craft showes plaine : Thus restlesse man doth change, and changing so, If rich, findes friendes : if poore, his friend turnes foe. To sing of Honour, and Preferment too, I know, thou knowst, what I haue scene abroade : Meane Lads made Lordes, and Lordes to Lads must bow : Such Fauourites on Noble Breastes haue trode, As what Kinges doe, the Heauens the same allow. But heere's the plague ; if dead, ere they bee rotten. Their Stiles, their Names, and Honoures are forgotten. The Duke of Vrbine, Count Octauious Lord, Preferd this Youth (though base in birth) for beautie : And was his Bardasse, so the Tuscane word Doth beare : and farre beyonde aU PrinceUe duetie, Aduancing him, his Nobles did discord. And when growne great, his friendes began to hate him. And at the last, a Ponyarde did defate him. So YVorlde beholde thy late Marshall of France, Whom Mons. du Vitres, pistolde through the head : That Queene for priuate thinges did him aduance. But in the ende, his Honoures now lie dead. Who mountes without desert, findes oft such chance. hee was great I now gone, where lines his Fame ? Now, neither Eace, nor StUe, nor Eent, nor Name. I could recite an hundreth Upstartes moe. Whose meanest Worth, on greatest G-lore was set : Meane-while mine eyes, admire their greatnesse so, A suddaine change, these blowne-vp Mineons get. Time doth betray, what Fortune oft lets goe. Soone ripe, soone rotte, when free, liues most in thrall : A suddaine rising, hath a suddaine fall. The Pilgrimes Lamentado, This worthlesse Honour, that desert not reares, Is but as fruitlesse showes, which bloome, then perish : Where Merite buUdes uot, that Foundation teares. There's nought but Trueth, that can mans standing cherish : This great Experience, dayly now appeares ; What one vpholdes, another he downe casts. This gentle-blood, doth suffer many Blasts. I smyle to see, some bragging Gentle-men, That clayme their discent, from King Arthur great ; And they will drinke, and sweare, and roare, what then Would make their betters, foote-stooles to their feet ; And stryue to be applaus'd with Print and pen : And were hee but a Farmer, if bee can But keepe an Hound, there's a Oentle-man. But foolish thou, looke to the Graue, and learne. How man lies there deform'd, consum'd in dust : And in that Mappe, thy judgement may discearne, How little thou in Birth and Blood shouldst trust. Such sightes are good, they doe thy Soule concerne. V Ver'st thou a Kinglie Sonne, and Vertue want. Thou art more brute, than Beastes, which Desarts hant. And more, vaine V Vorlde, I see thy great transgression. Each day new Murther, Blood-shed, Craft, and Thift : Thy louelesse Law, and lawlesse proude Oppression : Thy stiffeneckt Crew, their heads ou'r Saincts they lift. And misregarding GOD, fall in degression. The Widdow mournes, the Proude the Poore oppresse The Kich contemne, the siUy Fatherlesse. And rich men gape, and not content, seeke more, By Sea and Land, for gaine, run manie miles : The In his second Pilgrimage. The Noblest striue for State, ambitious Glore, To haue Preferment, Landes, and greatest Stiles, Yet neu'r content of all, when they haue store : And from the Sheepheard, to the King I see, There's no contentment, for a VVorldlie Eye. ! is hee poore, then faine hee would bee rich : And rich, what tormentes his great griede doth feele : And is hee gentle, hee striues moe Hightes t' touch : If hee vnthriues, hee hates anothers weele : His Eyes puU home, what his Handes dare not fetch. A quiet minde, who can attaine that hight. But either slaine, by Griede, or Enuies spight ? Man's naked borne, and naked hee returnes, Yet whiles he liues, GODS Prouidence mistrustes : Hee gapes for Pelfe, and still in Auarice burnes, And hauing all, hath nothing, but his Lustes. Insatiate stiU, backe to his Vomite turnes. Vilde Dust and Earth, belieu'st thou in a Shadow ? Whose high-tun'd Prime, falles like a new mowne Me- (dow. 1 grieue te see the World, and Worldling playing, The W^retch puft vp, is swell'd with Hellish griede : The Worlde deceiues him, with a swift assaying. And as hee standes, hee cannot take good heede, But for small Trash, must yeelde eternall paying : And dead, another enjoyes what hee got. And spendes vp all, whiles hee in Graue doeth rot. To see thy Plagues, false Worlde, I breake mine heart : I'me tost, he crost, another lost, and most, E To see The Pilgrimes Lmnentado, To see a wretcli for gaine his Soule decart ; Men yi theniselues such blyndnes haue ingrost ; To flee their good, and follow fast their smart : Away vaine world, blest I, disdaines thy sight. Whose sugred snares, breed everlasting night. And when I haue seene most part of thy glore. Great Kingdomes, Tlandes, statelie Courtes, and Townes, Herbagious Fieldes, the jPe^ag'e-beating Shore, And georgeous showes, of glorious renownes, Faire Floods, strong Forts, greene Woods, and Arahe Ore : I crie out from my griefe, with watrie eyes, All is but vaine, and vaine of vanities. So welcome Heauen, with thine eternall loyes. Where perfect pleasure is, and aye hath beene : This Masse below, is lode with sad annoyes : No rest for mee, till I thy glore haue seene, So put a period to my toyles and toyes. I loathe to liue, I long to see my death : I die to liue, Sweete I B S U S haue my Breath. Ah, whither am I carr/d, thus to moume ? To breake with griefe, the powers of my Breast, There where I ende, to that ende I returne. And still renew the Accentes of vnrest. Whiles in my selfe, mine onelie selfe I burne. Whiles frozen colde, whiles fierie bote I grow, I come, I flee, I stay, I sinke, I flow. No, no, poore heart, my spirit sadlie spoke, Leaue off these Passions, of extreame conceate : And Iri his second Pilgrimage. And learne to beare with patience this thy Yoke, Which from ahoue is sent, not from thy fate : For the Creator, hath the Creature stroke. Bee steadfast still, despaire not for annoyes, They are the tryall, of thy future joyes. So Worlde farewell, I haue no more to say. Tort mee, and tosse mee, as thou wilt, I care not : I hope that once, I shall triumph for aye : And so to plague mee heere, O Worlde, then spare not : My Night's neare worne, and fast appeares my Day. O loye of chiefest loyes, receiue my Soule, And in thy Bookes of Life, my Name enroule. Heere endeth the Pilgrimes Lamentado, In his second Pilgrvmage. ''•^''<^mmmm^ To the Right Honourable Ladie, LADIE MARIE, Countesse of Home, die. Y seruile Muse low prostrate spreads her Eayes, To t great Dames, HOMES quiijtes^nce of fame ; The Noble Merse, admire thyvertuous wayes, And as amaz'd, yeeld homage to the same. The YestaU Maides, in honour of a Dame, Are saide to feast Minerva, and great loue. But Thou beyonde great Dames deseru'st a Name : Whose Breast is fraught witth nought but loyaU loue. strange ! a Dame should from her Soyle remoue, And though franchizd, a Stranger in some kinde. In this Thy Course, the Heauens thy Worth approue, To show these matchlesse Ffuites, of thy chaste Minde. So, Countesse, so, All HOMES in Thee finde Ught : Thou doest reuiue the Day, seem'd once their Night. Then blest art Thou, in Thy fiue Babes : or rather, More blest Thy Lord, in Thee, and them a Father. Your La, most humble seruant. William Lithgow. To the Right Honorable Lord, MY LORD SHEFFIELD, President of Yorke, &c. F not ingrate, I must recall thy Worth, Which binds my brest to memorize thy name: And if I could (doubtlesse) I would set foorth Thy great desert, to line in endlesse fame. In passing by at Yorhe, cras'd I, haHe lame. Had hap to finde thy noble heart so kinde. Great thankes (Braue Lord) I yeelde thee for the same : First, to thy Gen'rous ; then, judicious Minde. Thy Breast well read in Histories I finde, But more Eeligious, in a Godlie course, To Vertue and to Humane workes inclin'd : Thou bound to them, they finde in the secourse. So as thou worthie liu'st, of thy good partes, Thine Honour growes, in conquering of Heartes. Long mayst thou liue, a Loade starre to the North, That brauest Wittes, may still thy prayse sing foorth. Your Lo. euer, d;c. William Lithgow. The Pilgrimes Farewell to Edinburgh, DEDICATE To the Eight VVorshipfull, Sir W illiam Nisbet of Deane, Knight : Lord Prouost, <&c. And to the rest. The right_worthie Baylies and graue Magistrates of Edinburgh. ;'Hen Alhions geme, great Britanes greatest glore I'Did leaue the South, this Articke Soyle to see, 'Entred thy Gates, whole Miriads him before, ^GHstring in Golde, most glorious to the eye : First, Prouost, Bailies, Counsel, Senate graue, Stood plac'd in raks, their King for to receaue. In richest Veluet Gownes, they did salute him, Where from his face, appear'd, true PrinceKe loue : And in the midst of Noble Troupes about him. In name of All, Graue Haye, a Speach did moue. And being horst, the Prouost rode along, With our Apollo, in that splendant Throng. What joyfuU signes, foorth from thy Bosome sprang, On thy faire Streetes, when shin'd his glorious Beames, Shrill Trumpets sound, Drummes beat, & Bells lowd rang : The people shout, Welcome our Koyall I A M E S : And when drawne neare, vnto thy Freedomes Eight, His Highnesse stayde, and made thy Prouost Knight. At last arriu'd at his great PaUace gate, There facond Nisbet, enuiron'd with throng, Made in behaJfe of Citie, Countrey, State, A learned Speach in Ornate Latine Tongue : And thy strong Maiden-Forte, impregnate Boundes, Gaue out a world of Shottes, strange thundring soimds. The Mustring-day drawne on, there came thy Glore, To see thy gallant Youthes, so rich arrayde, In In Pandedalian Showes, did shine like Ore. And statelie they their Martiall'fittes displayde. V Vith Fethers, Skarfs, loud Drummes, & Colours fleeing First in the Front, King I A M E S they goe a seeing. Their Salutations rent the Aire a sunder. And next to them, the Merchantes went in Order : Whose fire-flying VoUeyes, crackt like Thunder: And well conveigh'd, with Seargeantes on each border. So rul'd, so decent, and so arm'd a sight, Gave great contentment, to their greatest Light. The vvorthie Trades, in rich approued Eankes, In comelie Show, with them they march'd along : Whose deafning Shottes, resounded clowdie thankes. For our Kinges Welcome, in their greatest Throng. And in that noyse, mee thought, their honour'd Fates, Proclaim'd, That Trades, maintain both Crowns & States. And more, sweet Oitie, thou didst feast thy Prince, Within a Olasen house, with such delightes, And rare conceites, that few before, or since. Did see it paraleld, in Forraine sightes. And those Fire-workes, on his Birth-day at night, Gaue to thy Youthes more prayse, thy selfe more light. All these Triumphes, and moe, encrease thy Fame : Which briefelie toucht, prolixitie I shunne. And for my part. Great Metrapole, thy Name, AU-where He prayse, as twise past I haue done. And now I bidde with teares, with eyes which swell. Thee (Scotlands Seate) deare Edinbvbgh, Farewell, Your Wor. neuer failing, dtc. WILLIAM LITHGOW. The Pilgrims Farewell to NortJiherwicke Lawe. Dedicate to Sir I H N HOME of Northber- wicke, Knight, &c. THou steeple Hill, so circling piramiz'd, That for a Prospect, serues East Louthiane Landes : Where Ouile Flockes doe feede halfe enamiz'd :- And for a Trophee, to NorfhherwicTce standes, So mongst the Marine Hilles growes diademiz'd. Which curling Plaines, and pastring Vales commaundes : Out from thy Poleme Eye, some sadnesse borrow. And decke thy Listes, with Streames of sliding sorrow. And from thy cloudie toppe, some mistes dissolue. To thicke the Planure, with a foggie Dew : And on the Manure, moystie droppes reuolue, To change colde Hyeme, in a Cerene Hew. And let the JEcchoes, of thy Rockes resolue, To mourne for mee, in gracing them was true. So Mount, powre out, thy showrie pale complaintes, For mee, and my Fare-well, my Malecontentes. And now round Hight, whiles Phcebus warmes thy bounds. Some glad reflexe, disbende downe to thy Knight : And shew him, how thy Loue to him aboundes. Since hee is Patrone, of thy Stile by right. For from his VVorth, a double Fame redoundes. To rayse his Vertue, farre aboue thine hight, Tet bow thine Head, and greet him as hee goes, Since hee, and his, deserue to weare thy Eose. And I, I wish, his Name, and Eace, may stand. So long as thou art scene, by Sea, or Land. Tour Wor. &c. William Lithgow. A SONNET, Made by the Author, being vpmi Mount ^tna, in Sicilia, AN. 1615. And on the second day thereafter arriuing at Was- sina, he found two of his Countre^ Gentlemen, Dauid Seton, of the House of Perbroith, and Matthew Dowglas, now presentUe at Court : to ivhome hee presented the same, they beeing at that instant time some 40. miles from thence. High standes thy toppe, but higher lookes mine eye, High soares thy smoake, but higher my desire ; High are thy roundes, steepe, circled, as I see. But higher farre this breast, whiles I aspire : High mountes the furie, of thy burning fire. But higher farre mine aymes transcende aboue : High bendes thy force, through midst of Vuhanes ire, But higher flies my sprite, with winges of loue : High preasse thy flames, the chrystall aire to moue, But higher farre, the scope of mine engine : High lies the snow, on thy proude toppes, I proue, But higher vp ascendes my braue designe. Thine height cannot surpasse this clowdie frame, But my poore Soule, the highest Heauens doth claime. Meane-while with paine, I climbe to view thy toppes, Thine hight makes fall from me, ten thousand droppes. Yours affectionate, William Lithgow. The Pilgrimes Passionado, on the Rhyne, when he was robbed by fine SouMiours, French & Valloune, cS)oue Rhynberg, in Cleue, being assosiatedhy a young Gentleman, Dauid Bruce o/Clakmanene house, ANNO 1614. Octob. 28. And afterwarde dedicate to the most mightie Dutchesse, ELIZABETH, Princesse Palatine, of the Rhyne, &c. alue life, sad Muse, vnto my watrie VYoes, And let my windie sighes, ou'r-match despaire : Striue in my sorrow sadlie to disclose F My The Pilgrimes Passionado, My Tormentes, Troubles, Crosses, Griefe, and Care : Paint mee ont so, my Pourtraicture to bee, The matchlesse Mappe, of vnmatcht Miserie. Euen as a Birde, caught in an vnseene Snare, So was I fangd in lawlesse Souldiours handes : My Oloathes, my Money, and my Goods they share, Before mine eyes, whiles helplesse I still standes. I once Possessour, now Spectatour turnes, To see mee from my selfe, mine heart it burnes. Nowe must I begge, or steale, else starue, and die, For lacke of Foode / so am I Harbourlesse : Sighes are my Speach, and Grones my Silence bee : Bare-foote I am, and bare-legd, in distresse. My lookes craue helpe, mine eyes pierce euerie doore : I stretch mine handes, my voyce cries, Helpe the Poore. Howe woefiiU-like I hing my mourning Face, And downewarde looke vpon the sable ground : Mine outwarde show, from Stones might beg some grace, Though neither life, nor loue, on earth were found. Nowe, hungrie, naked, colde, and wette with Eaine, Poore I, am crost, with Pouertie quite slaine. Can Pouertie, that of it selfe's so light, As beeing vveigh'd, in Ballance with the Winde, Doth hang aloft, yet seeme so hudge a weight : To sit so sadde vpon a soaring Minde : No, no, poore Breast, it is thine owne base thought. That holdes the downe, for Pouertie is nought. Or On the Rhyne. Or can the restlesse VVheele of Fortunes pride, Turne vp-side downe ? mine euer-clianging state. Ah yea, for I, on Begno once did ride, Though nowe throwne downe, to desolate debate. Thus am I chang'd, and this the Worlde shall finde, Fortune, that Foole, is false, deafe, dumbe, and blinde. Shall swift-wing'd Time, thus triumph in my Wronges ? Whiles I am left, a Mirrour of Despaire ? Shall I vnfolde my plaintes, and heauie songes, To grieue the Worlde, and to molest the aire ? I, I, I mourne, but for to ease my griefe, Soone gettes hee helpe, at last who findes reliefe. Once robd, and robd againe, and wounded too, O what aduentures, ouer-sweigh my fate ? Pilgrime, thou mourn'st, mourne not, let worldlinges doe, Thinges past, recalde, they euer come too late : I wish, I had, is daylie full of woe : And had I wist, I would, is so, and so. Well then, on lower Vales, the Shades doe lie, And mistes doe lurke, on euerie watrie plaine. The toppes of Mountaines, are both cleare and drie, And nearest to all Sunne-shine joyes remaine. Mount then, braue Minde, to that admired hight, Where neither mist, nor shade, can hurt thy sight. So rie defie Time, Fortune, Mars, and Bhyne, Who all at once, conspir'd my last ruine. iji f x p j, fj> fj> f ^ f^f ff 9 t ^t 9 f-'f ? ?^ P^ P-* In his second Trauels, after his departure from ENGLAND, arriuing at Ostend : the sight whereof gaue the Pilgrime this Subject. TO view the ruines, of thy wasted Walles, Loe, I am come, bewailing thy disgrace : Art thou this Bourge, Bellona so installes ? To bee a Mirronr, for a Martiall face : I sure it's thou, whose bloodie bathiug boundeg, Gaue death to thousandes, and to thousandes woundes. What Hostile force, besieg'd thee, poore Ostend ? With all engine, that euer Warre deuis'd. What Martiall Troupes, did valiantlie defende, Thine Earthen Strengthes, and fcsconses vnsurpris'd : By cruell assaultes, and desperate defence. Thine vndeseruing name, wonne honour thence. Some deepe interr'd, within thy bosome lie : Some rotte, some rent, some tome in pieces small, Some Warre-like maim'd, some lame, some halting crie. Some blowne through clouds, some brought to deadly thrall Whose dire defectes, renew'd with Ghostlie mones, May match the Thebarie, or the Trojane grones. Base Fisher Towne, that fang'd thy Nettes before, And drencht into the Deepes, thy Foode to winne : Art thou become a Tragicke Stage ? and more. Whence brauest Wittes, braue Stories may beginne : To show the World, more than the World would craue, How all thine in-trencht ground, became one Graue. Thy digged Ditches, turn'd a Gulfe of Blood, Thy Walles defeate, were rearde, with fatall bones : Thine Houses equall, with the Streetes they stoode : Thy Limites come, a Sepulchre of Grones. Whence Canons roar'd, from fierie cracking smoake, Twixt two Extreames, thy Desolation broke. Thou God of Warre, whose thundring soundes doe feare, This circled space, plac'd heere below the roundes : Thou, in obliuion, hast sepulchriz'd heere, Earthes dearest life : for now what else redoundes, But Sighes, and Sobbes, when Treason, Sword and Fire, Haue throwne all downe, when aU thought to aspire ? Foorth from thy Marches, and Frontiers about. In sanguine hew, thou d/d the fragrant Fieldes. The camped Trenches of thy Foes without, Were turn'd to blood : for valour neuer yeeldes. So bred Ambition, Honour, Courage, Hate, Long three yeeres Siedge, to ouer-throw thy State. At last from threatning terrour of despaire. Thine hemb'de Defendantes, with diuided Walles, Were forc'd to render ; Then came mourning care Of mutuall Foes, for Friendes vntimelie faUes : Thus lost, and gotte, by wrong and lawlesse Eight, My judgment thinkes thee, scarcelie worth the sight. But there's the question, WTien my Muse hath done, Whether the Victor, or the Vanquisht wonne ? To the Worshipfull Gentleman, THOMAS EDMOND: Now resident in the LOWE COVNTREYES. YOuth, thou mayst see (though brief) my great goodwill : It's not for flattrie, nor rewarde, I prayse : Wee are farre distant, yet my flying Quill, Perhaps may come, within thine home-bred wayes. F 3 I striue I striue from Dust, thy Fathers Fame to raise, For Scotlandes sake, and for his Martiall Skill, Whose fearelesse Courage, following Warlike Frayes, Did there surpasse, the worthiest of his dayes. And as his matchlesse Valour, Honour woime. His death resign'd, the same, to thee his Sonne. Yours, to his vttermost, William Lithgow. The Complaint of the late LORD, COBONALL EDMOND his Ghoste. OUT of the loyes, of sweete Eternall Rest, I must compeare, as forc'd for to remoue, Here to complaine, how I am dispossest. Of Christian Battelles, Captaines, Souldiers loue. Oft with the Pensile, of a bloodie Pen, I wrote my val'rous fortunate assayes ; Though I be gone, my worth is prais'd of men ; The Netherlandes admyrd my warlike dayes. And Counte du Buckoye, twyse my captiue was. In cruell fight, at Emricke I him tooke ; (The stoutest Earle the Spanish armie has) Who tUl my death, his armes hee quyte forsooke. At New-port fight, that same day, ah, I lost. The worthiest Scots, that life the world affords ; Men, a Regiment, like Gyantes seemde to boast, A worlde of Spaniardes, and their bloodie Swordes. And 1 escap'd so neare, was twise vnhorst : Yea, manie other bloodie Fieldes I stroke. My My Foes strange plottes, was neu'r so strong secourst, But eft-soones I, their Force, and Terrour broke. Scotland I thanke, for mine vndaunted Breath, Shee brought mee foorth, for to vnsheath my Sworde : The STATES they found mee true vnto my death. And neuer shrunke from them in deede or worde. At Rhynsherg Sconce, I gottee my fatall blow, A faint-heart French-man baselie was refute : And I went on, the Pultrone for to show, VYhere in a Bemi-Lune that hee should shoote. But ah 1 a Musket, twinde mee and my life, Which made my Foe, euen Spineola, to grieue. Although my death, did ende, his doubtfuU strife. His worthie Breast, oft wisht, that I might line. Thus STATES farewell, Count MAUKIOE, souldiers The most aduentrous, nearest to his faU : (all. This Filgrime passing by, where I was slaine. In sorrow of his heart, raisde mee againe. The author in his second Trauels heeing at PEAGE, in BOHEMIA, did sute the Emperour for some affaires, which heing granted, ayoung vp-start Courtier ouer-threw him therein, gluing him this Subiect to expresse, after long attendance at Court, Sj'c. THou carelesse Court, commixt with colours strange, Carefall to catch, but carelesse to reward ; Thy care doth carrie, a sad Cymerian change, To starue the best, and still the worst regard : For in thy greatnesse, greatly am I snar'd. Ah wretched I, on thy vnhappie shelfe. Grounded my hopes, and cast away my selfe. On the Court of Bohemia. From stormes to calme, from calme to stormes amaine, Poore I am tost, in dyuing boundlesse deepes ; There where I perish'd Loues to fall againe, And that which hath me lost, my losse still keepes, In dark oblivion, my designes now sleepes : Cancelling thus, the aymes of my aspyring, Still crosse, on crosse, haue crost my just desiring. Had thy vnhappie smyles, shrunke to betray me, Worthie had beene, the worth of my deseruing ; Blush if thou canst, for shame can not affray thee, Since fame declines, and bountie is in swerving, And leaues thee clog'd in pryde, for purenesse staruing : Ah court, thou mappe, of all dissimulation, Turnes Faith to flattrie, Loue to emulation. Happie liu'd I, whilst I sought nothing more. But what my trauailes, by great paines obtained ; Now being Ship-wrackt, on thy marble shore, By Tauernes wrackt, goods spent, gifts farre restrained, Am forc'd to flee, by miserie constrained : Whose ruthles frowns, my modest thoughts haue scatterd The swelling sailes of hope, in pieces shatterd. Some by the rise of small desert so hie. That on their height, the Worlde is forc'd to gaze : Their Fortunes, riper than their yeeres to bee. May fill the Worlde with wonder, wonders rayse. As though there were none ende to smoake their prayse. Well Court, aduance, thy mineons neu'r so much. Doe what thou canst, He neuer honour such. lusthe I know my sad lamenting Muse, May claime reuenge of thine inconstant state : Thou On {he Court of Bohemia. Thou fedst mee with faire showes, then didst abuse, All, I expect'd, sprung from an heart ingrate. Whom fortune once hath raisde, may turne his fate. In Court whose pride, ambition makes him All, In ende shall pride, ambition, breede his fall. When swift-wing'd Time, discloser of all thinges. Shall trie the future euents of mens rising. What admiration to the Worlds it bringes. To see who made their State, their State surprising, ' "Whome they with Flattrie stoode, and false entising. And when they fall, mee thinke I heare these Songes, The world proclaims, There's them that nurst my wrongs. Thou must not thinke, thy fame shall alwayes flourish, Whose Birth once meane, made great by Princelie fauour : Flowres in their prime, the season sweetlie nourish. Then in disgrace, they wither, loose their sauour : So all haue course, whome fortune so will honour. Looke to thy selfe, and know within, without thee : Thou rose with flattrie, flattrie dwelles about thee. Thou cunning Court, cledde in a curious cace, Seemst to bee that, which thou art not indeed : Thou maskst thy wordes, with eloquence, no grace, Hatcht in the craft of thy dissembling head, And poore Attendantes, with vaine showes doest feede. Thou promist faire, performing nought at all : Thy Smiles, are Wrath ; thine Honey, bitter Gall. Curst bee the man, that trustes in thine assuring. For then himselfe, himselfe shall vndermine : Griefes are soone gotte, but painefuU in induring, Hopes vnobtaind, make but the hoper pine : G Hopes On the Court of Bohemia. Hopes are like beames, which through dark clouds do shine. Which moue the eyes to looke, the thoughts to swell, Bring sudden loye, then turnes that loye, an Hell. Thrise happie hee, who liues a quiet life, Hee needes not care, thine Enuie, Pride, nor Treason : His wayes are plaine, his actions voyde of strife, Sweetelie hee toyles, though painefull in the season, And makes his Conscience, both his Law and Reason. Hee sleepes secureUe, needes not feare no danger, Supportes the Poore, and intertaines the Stranger. And who liues more content, than Sheepheardes doe ? VVhome haughtie heads account but Oountrey Swanes : Leaue off, they mount you farre, and scorne you too. And line more sweetelie, on Valleyes, HUles, and Plaines, Than yee, proude Fooles, for all your puffc-vp braines : Whose heartes contend, to flatter, swell, and gaine. Ambition choakes your Breasts, Hell breeds your paiue. What art thou COURT ? If I can censure duelie, A masked Playe, where nought appeares but glancing ; And in an homelier sense, to sing more truelie, A stage, where Fooles, are daylie in aduancing : I'le sing no more, for feare of sudden lancing. For if a Qermane gape, then I am gone, Hee drinkes mee at a draught, it's ten to one. Farewell thou BOHEME Court, thy smallest Traine : Farewell the meanenesse, of thine highest Stile : Farewell the Fruites, of my long lookt-for Gaine : Farewell the Time, that did mine Hopes beguile : And happie I, if I saw BRITANES He. And whilst I see, my Natiue Soyle, I sweare, I thinke each Houre, a Daye ; each Daye, a Yeere. To his vnknoicne, knowne ; and knowne, vnknowne Loue, These now knoivne Lines, an vnknowne Breast shall move, SElfe-flattring I, deceiuer of my selfe, Opinions Slaue, rul'd by a base Conceate : Whome eu'rie winde, naufragiates on the shelfe, Of Apprehension, jealous of my State, Who guides mee most, that guide I most misknow, Suspectes the Shaddow, for a substant Show. I still receiue, the thing I vomite out, Conceiues againe imaginarie wracke : I stable stand, and yet I stand in doubt, Giues place to one, when two repulles mee backe. I kindle Fire, and that same Fire I quench, And swim the deepes, but dare not downwarde drench. I grieue at this, prolong'd in my desire. And I rejoyce, that my delay is such : I trie, and knowes, my tryall may aspire. But flees the place, that should this time auouh. In stinging smartes, my sweete conuertes in sowre, I builde the Hiue, but dare not sucke the Flowre. Well Honney Combe, since I am so faint hearted. That I flee backe, when thou vnmasket thy face : Thou shalt bee gone, and I must bee decarted. Such doubtfuU stayes enhaunce, when wee embrace. Farewell, wee two, diuided are for euer, yet vndiuided, whilst our Soules disseuer. Thine, as I am mine, WILLIAM LITHGOW. /■,j^\y\.r\j'\r\/'v'^^\^ A SONNET, Made by the Pilgrime, when hee was almost sMp-wrached, betwixt the lies Arrane and Kossay, anno 1 617. Sebtemb. 9. WHat foaming Seas, in restlesse hatefull rage, Striue to surmatch, the neuer-naatched Skies ? Can bounded Reason, boundlesse Will not swadge ? Nor spiteful! Neptune, pittie my poore cries ? Now downe to Hell, now vp to Heauen I rise, Twixt two Extreames, extreamly make debate, Heauens thundring winds, my halfe harm'd heart denyes All hop'd-for helpe, to my hurt haplesse state, T am content, Let fortune rule my fate, Tymes alt'ring turnes, may change in joye my griefe, Roare foorth yee Stormes, rebel], and bee ingrate, I scorne to begge, from Borean blastes, rehefe. Long-winged Boate, quicke-shake thy trembling oares. And correspond these waues, with demi-roares. The Pilgrvme Entring into the Mouth of CLYDE, from ROSSAY, to view DUNBARTANE Castle, and LOCELOWMOND, anno 1617. Sebtemb. 18, Hee saluted his natiue Biuer with these Verses. HOw sweetelie slide the Streames of silent Clyde, And smoothlie runne, betweene two bordring Banks : ' RedoubUng oft his Course, seemes to abyde, To greete my Trauelles, with tenne thousand thankes, That I, whose eyes, had view'd so manie Floodes, Deign'd to suruey, his deepes, and neighb'ring woods. Thrise famous Clyde, I thanke thee for thy greeting, Oft haue thy Brethren, easde mee of my paine : Two contrarie extreames, wee haue in meeting, I vp- His Farewell to Clyde. I vpward climbe, and thou fall'st downe amaine. I search thy Spring, and thou the Westerne Sea : So farewell Flood, yet stay, and mourne with mee. Goe steale along with speede, the Hyieme shore, And meete the Thames, vpon the Albion coast : loyne your two Armes, then sighing both, deplore The Fortunes, which in Britane I haue lost. And let the Water-Nymphes, and Neptune too, Refraine their mirth, and mourne, as Eiuers doe. To thee great Clyde, if I disclose my wronges, I feare to loade thee, with excesse of griefe : Then may the Ocean, bereaue thee of my Songes, And swallow vp thy Plaintes, and my reliefe. TeU onelie Isis, So, and so, and so : Conceale the trueth, but thunder foorth my woe. My Bloode, sweete Clyde, claimes intrest in thy worth, Thou in my Birth, I in thy vaprous Beames : Thy breadth surmountes, the Tweede, the Tay^ the Forth, In pleasures thou excell'st, in glistring Streames : Seeke Scotland for a Fort, then Dunhertaine ! That for a Trophee standes, at thy Mouth certaine. Ten miles more vp, thy well-built Glasgow standes, Our second Metrapole, of Spiritual! Glore : A Citie deckt with people, fertile Landes : Where our great King, gotte Welcome, welcomes store : Whose Cathedrall, and Steeple, threat the Skies, And nine archt Bridge, out ou'r thy bosome lies. And higher vp, there dwelles thy greatest wonder. Thy chiefest Patrone, glorie of thy Boundes : G 3 A Noble His Farewell to Clyde. A Noble Marques, whose great Vertues thunder, An aequiuox backe to thy Pleasant Soundes. Whose Greatnesse may command thine head to foote, From Aricke stone, vnto the He of Boote. As thou alongst his Palace slides, in haste. Stay, and salute, his Marquesadiane Dame : That matchlesse Matrone, Mirrour of the West, Deignes to protect, the Honour of thy Name. So euer famous Flood, yeelde them their duetie, They are the oneUe, Lampes, of thy great Beautie. And now, faire-bounded Streame, I yet ascende. To our olde LANERKE, situate on thy Bankes : And for my sake, let Oorhouse Lin disbende, Some thundring noyse, to greete that Towne with thanks. There was I bprne : Then Clyde, for this my loue, As thou runnes by, her auncient Worth approue. And higher vp, to climbe to Tinto Hill, (The greatest Mountaine, that thy Boundes can see :) There stand to circuite, and striue t' runne thy fill. And smile vpon that Barron dwelles by thee. Carmichell thy great Friende, whose famous Sire, In dying, left not, Scotland, such a squire. In doing these Requestes, I shall commende thee. To fertile Nyle, and to the sandie lore, And I recorde. The Danube, latelie sende thee. A thousand G-reetinges, from his state! ie Shore. Thus, for thy paines, I shall augment thy Glorie, And write thy Name, in Times Eternall Storie. So, euer-pleasant Flood, thy losse I feele. In breathing foorth this worde, Deare Clyde, Fareweele. The Heremites Welcome, To the Pilgrimes thirde Pilgrimage, n^rOW long-worne Pilgrime, in this Vale of Teares, i\ Thrise welcome, to thy thrise austiere Assayes : In thee, my second selfe, it well appeares. For in thy Mappe, I see my pensiue Wayes. I Hue alone, vpon this desart Mount, And thou comst foorth alone, as thou wast wont. Mee thinkes thou seem'st a solitarie man, That, for some sorrowe, hadst forsooke thy Soyle : Or else, some long-made Vowe, which makes thee than To vnder-take this miserie of Toyle. Faine would I aske, the cause, why thou dost wander ? But thy sadde showe, doth seeme, no count to rander. Yet in thine heauie Face, I see thy paine. Thine hollow Eyes, deepe sunken in thine Head : Whose pale clapt Oheekes, and wrinckled Browes againe. Show mee what griefe, disasters, in the breede. Thy sight, poore wretch, telles me thou hast no pleasure. In Best, in Toyle, in Life, nor worldlie treasure. So happie thou, sit downe heere by my side. And rest thy selfe, thy paine is wondrous sore : For I, I still, in this one place do bide, But thou aU-where, thy Pennance dost explore. Thou neuer supst, nor dynst, into one parte. Nor ly'st two nightes, vnchanging of thine airte. Thy life is harde, I must confesse, deare Brother, For where I line, my Friendes dwell heere about mee : But The Heremites Welcome, But in thy chaunge, thou seest now one, now other, And all are Strangers, that each day may doubt thee. I judge the cause of this, good GOD reliue thee : To see a Soule so vext, it quite doth grieue mee. My solitarie life, is harde indeede, And I chastize my selfe with hungrie Fare : On Hearbes, raw Eootes, on Snailes, and Frogges I feede : And what GOD giues mee, freelie I it share. Three dayes in eight, I fast, for my Soules better. And in this time, I feede on Bread and Water. All this is nought to thine, with mine I rest : For thou must toyle, and fast against thy will. If it fall late, then thou must runne in haste. To seeke thy Lodging, fortunate, but Skill. I haue the shelter of this Her'mitage, But vniuersall is thy Pilgrimage, Alace, deare Sonne ! I mourne to see thy life. Though in the passions of thy paines thou joyes : Wouldst thou turne Hermite, thou mightst end thy strife. My Fare is rude, but Prayer mee imployes. Rest, rest, and rest, the Heauens as soone they wonne, That rest with mee, as they ail-where that runne. Yet I confesse, thy Pennance doth exceede. My merite farre, wonne by these austiere meanes : For thou with Turkes, and Paganes, eat'st thy Bread, Hast feare of death, when thou none other weanes. They plague thy Purse, and Hunger plagues thy Bellie, Whiles in this Cottage, I contentment swellie. I see no stormie Seas, where Pirates liue : No Murthrer dare encroach vpon my State : I feare no Thiefe, nor at wilde Beastes doe grieue : I neede not buy, nor spende, nor lende, nor f'rate. All these, and mania moe, attende thy wayes : Ah, poore slaine Pilgrime, so the Hermite sayes. Thou seemst to bee, of some farre Northerne Nation, And I doe maruell, that thou walkst alone : Good Companie, should bee thy chiefe Solation, For thou hast Plaines, and Hilles, to wander on : Long Woods, and Desartes, eu'rie where must finde : Hadst thou a second, thou hadst a quiet minde. But wandring Sonne, these thinges no more I toucli, I must refresh thee, with some Hermites cheare : For I, poore I, can heere afforde but such, As Hearbes, raw Bootes, browne Bread, and Water cleare. Yet, if thou wilt conceale this gift of mine, I haue good Flesh, good Fish, good Bread, good Wine, Although to common Pilgrimes I not show it, Yet for leriisaUm, which thou hast seene. Thou shalt haue part, although the World should know it. Thou art as holie, as euer I haue beene. So welcome, Sonne, welcome to mee, I sweare : Thou shalt finde more with mee, than Tauerne cheare. Heere on this greene growne Hill, I spreade my Table, Well couerd ou'r, with Leaues of diuerse sortes : VS'^ho say that Hermites fast, is but a fable. Wee haue the best, the Peasantes haue the Ortes. And Pilgrime holde thy peace, wee shall bee merrie. For heere's good Wine, which tastes of the true Berrie. Fill, and content, thy long desires apace, And bee not shamefast, Pilgrimes must bee forthie : Wee Hermites seldome vse to say a Grace : To pray too much at Meate, that's vnworthie. And what thou leau'st, thy Budget shall possesse, I cannot want, when thou mayst finde distresse. H And The Heremites Welcome, And there a Carrouse, of the sweetest Wyne, That growes twixt Fiemont, and Callabriim shore ; Hast thou enough ? nowe tell me, all is thine, When this is done, Tie finde another TJore : And giue me out thy Callabast to fill, That thou mayst drinke, when thou discends this hill. Thus pensiue Pilgrime, thy humble Hermite greetes thee, And yet me thinkes, thou lookes not like a Frater, If thou be Catholike, my Soule shee treats thee, For this good worke of mine, to say a Pater : Thou seemes to smyle, and will not fall a Prayer, I lay my life, thou art a meere betrayer. Pilgrimagious sonne, now faith, I knowe thee, At Mount Serata, nyne yeares past and more ; 1 askd at thee, What wast thou ? Who did owe thee ? And thou repl/d, A stranger seeking Ore. I answer'd, Hermits, neuer keepe no Golde, Pilgrime now, on faith, now you are solde. How dar'st thou man, within our bounds repare ? An Hereticke, would make a Christian show : Hast thou no conscience, for thy Soule to care ? There is but one way, to the Heauens wee know. And wilt thou line a Schismatike or Atheist ? No rather Pilgrime, turne with mee a Papist. Our ghostly father, Ohristes Yicare on earth, Is highly with thy old done deeds displeased : And I doe knowe, for all thy showe of mirth. If thou be found, these trickes can not be meased : A suddaine blast, will blow thee in the aire, Therefore when free, to saue thy life beware. And yet it seemes, thou car'st not what I speake, But thinkes me damn'd, for all my poore profession ; I stand in doubt my selfe, the trueth I seeke, To his third Pilgrimage. And of my life, there is my true confession : When I was young, luxurious vice I lou'd, Libidinous, abhominablely mou'd. I know, thou Imowst, what Priests doe, with young boyes, It is a common sinne, in young and old ; strange, gainst Nature, man his lust employes ! They seeme as Saincts, and HeU-hounds are enrold : Their filthie deeds, make my poore conscience tremble, And with Religion, gainst my heart dissemble. 1 will be plaine, I am thy Countrey man. And father Thomson is my Christiane name ; In Angus was I borne, but after when I left the Schooles, to Italy I came : And first turn'd Frier, of great Sainct Francis Order, But loathing that, turn'd Hermite on this Border. Know'st thou Father Mophet, that Jesuit Priest ? As I heare say, hee lay in Prison long ; It's saide, that once hee should haue thee confest : If not, the Worldes wide voyce, doth thee wrong. And Father Grichton, is hee yet aliue ? For Lecherie, they say, hee could not thriue. And I heare say, that Father Gray is dead, And Father Gordon, drawes neare to his Graue, And Father Wldte, at Bhynsberg hath great neede, And Father Browne, would seeme to play the Knaue : And Father Hebron, wee call Bonauenture, Hee studies more than his Wittes well may venture. They say, Father Anderson hath left Bom^, For strife, which in our Scots CoUedge fell out. And Father Leslie, hee doth brooke his Roome : There none of them, dealt honestlie, I doubt. Our young Scots Studentes, they hunger to the heart, The Pope allowes good meanes, and they it part. TTie Heremites Welcome. That lesuit Greene, in Wolmets is come rich, And Father Cumimmg, in Venice' s gone madde : And LyUe, at Bridges, is become a Wretch. For Ogelbie, alace, I must bee sadde : They say &t Glasgow, he was hanged there : Hee's now a Martyr, so Romane Writs declare. That Veimn Bishop, of the Chissome Blood, Hath Noble Partes, and worthie of his Breath : Hee is benigne, and kinde, and still doth good To Passengers, vnasking of their Faith. And Curate Wallace, is a louing Priest : But Father Bob, at Antwerpe, playes the Beast. Thou canst not tell, how Siguier Ferrier grees. With Dauid Chambers, where in Borne they dwell : Ferrier is false, and takes the PUgrimes Fees, And Chambers makes a show the Pope to tell. They say in Bome, as manie Scots they bee, The one high hanged, would the other see. Alace, if I might safelie Home retume. My Conscience knowes, the time that I haue spent, And if they would accept mee, I should mourne, In publicke show, and priuate to repent. Alace, alace, wee're Hypocrites each one. Wee make a Show, Religion we haue none. So, to bee briefe, deare Friende, my Counsel! take, Treade not in Italie, Portugall, or Spaine : These Hellish Priestes, of whom I mention make, Will striue to catch thee, to thy deare-bought paine. Goe ail-where else, but not within those Boundes. These Gospellers, are blooddie hunting Houndes, So farewel sonne, GOD guide thee where thou wanders And saue thy Soule from harme, thy Life from slanders. To the Noble, Illustrious, and Honou- rable LORDES, LODOWICKE, DVKE OF LENNOXE, &c. lAMES, MABQVES OF EAMMILTON, &o. GEOKGE, MABQVES OF HVNTLEY, &c. TO you great three, three greatest next our Crowoe, This smallest mite (though weake in meaue) I bring : Three Noble Peeres, true Objects of Eenowne, Strong Columnes, still to whom the Muses sing. Two in the West, diuided by a Flood, The other Patrone in the North for good. First thou, braue Duke, on Clydes North- coasted Bankes, (The Lennoxe Landes, thy chiefest Stile, their Glore,) Dost there illustrate, all inferiour Eankes, Foorth from thy loue, their standinges, settle more : Thrise happie Duhe, in whome the Heauens enshrine, True humane Vertues, Faculties diuine. And now, bright Pole, of our Antarticke Clyde, Mirrour of Vertue, Glorie of these Boundes : In thee, the Worths of thine Ancestors byde. Whose Greatnesse, Honour, to this Land redoundes. So as thou liu'st, great Marques, great in Might, This Albions Orbe, admire, adore, thy sight. And thou, Chiefe Marques, in the Noble North, (Their Articke-Splending Light, their Hemi-spheare) What shines in thee ? But wonders of great worth ? For For from thy selfe, true Chrystall Giftes appeare. The glorious GORDONS, Guerdon of thy Name, Thou art their Tropliee, they maintaine thy Fame. Thus in you three, three matchlesse Subjectes great, I humblie heere, intombe, my Muse, my Paines : Next to our triple Lampes, your triple State, Is plac'd, in which true honourd Worth remaines. So from your Greatnesse, let some fauour shine, To shaddow my Farewels, my rude Engine. Your Lo. most Obsequious, &c. William Lithgow. AN E L E G 1 E , Containing the Pilgrimes most humble Farewell to Ms Natiue and neuer conquered Kingdome of SCOTLAND. Tu vera, mea Tellus, ^ Genitorum PcUria Vale : Nam viro licet plurimum malts ohruatur Nullum est suaviits solum, quam quod nutriuit eum. T^O thee, dearest Boyle, these mourning Lines I bring. And with a broken bleeding Breast, my sad Farewell I sing, Nowe melting Eyes dissolue, windie Sighes disclose, The airie Vapoures of my grief e, sprung from my watrie woes : And let my Dying-day, no sorrow vncontrole. Since on the Planets of my Plaintes, I moue about the Pole. Shall I, restlesse I, still thwarting, runne this round ? Whiles resting Mortalles restlesse Mount, I mouldarize the ground And in my wandring long, in pleasure, paine, and greife, Begges m&rcie of the mercielesse of sorrow, sorrowes chief e. Sith The Pilgrimes Farewell to Scotland. 8ith after two Eeturnes, my merites are forgot, The third shall ende, or else repaire, my long estranging Lot. Then Jcindlie corns distresse, a Figge for Forraine care, I gladlie in Extreames must walke, whiles on this masse I fare. IVie Moorish frowning face, the Turkish awfull brow. The Sarasene and Arabe hlowes, poore I, must to them boiu. These Articles of Woe, my Monster-breeding paine, As Pendicles on my poore state, vnwisht for, shall remaine. Thus fraught with bitter Cares, I close my Malcontentes, Within this Kalendar of Griefe, to memorize my Plaintes. And to that V Vesterne Soyle, where Gallus once did dwell. To Gallowedian Barrons I, impart this my Farewell. A Forraine Debt I owe, braue Q-arlees, to thy worth, And to my Oenrous Kenmure Knight, more than I can sin^g forth To Bombee I assigne, lowe Somage for his hue : And to Barnebarough kinde & wise, a breast whiles breath may Vnto the worthy Boyde, in Scotland, first in France, {moue. I owe effectes of true good-will, a low-laide countenance. And thou graue Lowdon Lord, L honour with the best. And on the Noble Eglinton, my strong affections rest. Kilmaers I admire, for quiche and readie luit : And graue Grlencarne, his Father deare, on honours top doth sit: And to thee gallant Kosse, well seene in Forraine partes, I sacrifice a Pilgrimes loue, armngst these Noble heartes. From, Carlile vnto Clyde, thxxt Southwest shore I know : And by the way. Lord Harreis I, remembrance duelie owe. In that small progresse I, surueying all the West, Euen to your Houses, one by one, my Lodging I adrest ; Your hindnesse I imbrac'd, as not ingrate. The same I memorize to future times, in eternized fame. Amongst these long Goodnightes, farewell yee Poets deare, Graue Menstrie true Castahan fire, quiche Drummond in his Braue Murray ah is dead, Aiton supplies his place, (spheare. And Alens high Pernassian veine, rare Poems doth embrace. There's The Pilgrimes Farewell to Scotland. There's manie moe well knowne, wJiome 1 cannot explaine, And Gordon, Semple, Maxwell too, Tiaue the Pernassian veine And yee Colledgians all, thefruites of Learning graue To you I consecrate my Loue, enstalde amongst the leaue. First to you Rectors, I, and Eegentes, homage make. Then from your spiring Breasts, braue Youths, my leaue Ihwmhly And, Scotland, / attest, my Witnesse reignes aboue, {take. In all my worlde-wide wandring wayes, I kept to thee my hue : To manie Forraine Br castes, in these exyling Dayes^ In sympathizing Harmonies, I sung thine endlesse Prayse. And where thou wast not knowne, I registerd thy Name, Within their Annalles of Benowne, to eternize thy Fame. And this twise haue I done, in my twise long Assayes, And now the third time thrise Iwil, thy Name vnconquerd raise. Yea, I will stampe thy Badge, and scale it with my Blood : And if I die in thy Defence, I thinke mine Ende is good. So dearest Soyle, deare, I sacrifice now see, Euen on the Altar of mine Heart, a spotlesse Loue to thee. And Scotland now farewell, farewell for manie Yeares : This Eccho of Farewell hringes out, from Tnee, a world of teares. Magnum virtutis principium est, ut dixit paulatim exercitatus animus visibilia & transitoria primum comraurare, ut post- modum possit derelinquere. Delicatus ille est adhuc, cui patria dulcis est ; fortis autem jam, cui omne solum patria est : perfectuB vero, cui mundus exilium est. FINIS. SCOTLAND'S TEARES, WILLIAME LITHGOW, HIS COUNTREYES BEHALF. 1625. LITHaOW, TO HIS NOBLE MECENAS. If Thod acceptbsi of my panes, mt Goodwill SHALL BE A SaOBIFICE ; THOUaH THE STYLE BE PLANE THE MATTER IS QOOD : 1f ANT FAULT BE COMMITTED, IMPUTE IT TO MY PRESENT SICKNES AND BODELY DESEASE. Vive, Vale. SCOTLAND'S TEARES. Thow quelling Bird, that courts Meanders brooks, Where silver swans, accoast six hundreth crooks; Out of thy dyeing wing, send me a quill, Dip'd in Penneian springs, from Pindus rill ; To moyst my sun-scorched veyne, with liquid drops, Which flow from Soron, twixt the forked tops ; The Nymphs I cite to ayde, let them infuse. Sweet Demthen rills, their Heliconean Muse ; I sing the saddest verse ere Poet wrot, Since that my Virgin womba, first bred a Scot : 10 Now launch I forth, now gush my watery plaints, And shiv'ring come, as one through grief that faints : Loade with the spoyles of sorrow, I complayne All other woes, compar'd with myne, seeme vane ; Onely salt teares, which from my bowells flow Shall restles runne, and let the Occean know My dyre distresse : Such clouddy accents wold Have larger scope, than hembd-in Kegiones hold. Me thinks a murmuring noyse, drawes from the South, Post, post, he comes, the horn royndsin his mouth ; 20 The spurres are prest, the horse bends o're my bounds, The boyes lips do quiver ; Death, Death, he sounds The sound strikes through my heart. O dysmail day I That waxd so proud, of such a Princely prey ; Death, packet-seald, my cheeffest City entered, The Lords it ope, wsd Liberty so venterd : Grim Death's disclosed, they weeping close their eyes, Their greefs dividuat, seeme but one desease : SCOTLAND S TEARES. He flat dofrne falles, the other speechles stands, One tears-strick blynd, another wrings his hands ; 30 The rest distracted, all passion-rent bewry In deep-drawne sighs, Man's fate. King's destiny ; One warbling voyce chirps out, one playnes how Death Had robd great James his high imperiall breath : This Eccho smote the hills, the hilles rebounded Back on the vayles : the Rivers deadly wounded Fled to the Belgick deeps : The Seas retourne Their sinking loade, and swore the Land should mourne. Then groveling on the ground, half dead, I rose And clos'd within myne armes, these bosome woes : 40 Thus sighing sayd I, is my Sov'raigne dead, Or shall I want, my Ruler, and my head My Sone, my Father, and my Lord, was he, That crownd my fortunes, I, his Pedegree : My Valour was his Strength, his Law, my Love, My Deeds, his Right, my loyall Faith, his Dove: Betweene a King, and Kingdome, never Nation Had such respondence, nor such immutation. But now I listen, whence the Message comes, That Me, unto eternall mourning doomes ; 50 England's two Deaths, hath robd me twyse, one Prince, The last, as worst, for ever, takes him thence. What ! shall I censure ? that my Sister's sin. This judgement did procure ; the lyke hath bin, That Kings for subjects suffer : Tyraes allow, That people for their Prince, are punished too : Or can I cleare my self, and guiltless be, Of this desaster; Heavens best judge, and see; SCOTLAND S TEARES. 5 But how soe're, we both are cause, or either, That we have lost, so just, so good, a Father, 60 Myne intrest, in my right, exceeds far more, All others losse, than milleons can deplore : I from a never-conquer'd Eace, forth brought him, And kept him long, till other Kingdomes sought him : I plac'd the glory, on his Diademe, Which his Ancestors, wore, and wonne, with fame. Who from One hundreth six of noble Kings, His Pedegree, unviolat, he brings ; What Countreye, in this Universe can boast ? Of such a Stock, though now my Prince, seems lost ; 70 And yet not lost, but changeth Earth, for Heaven, The oddes are his, my fortunes left uneven : And yet Heavens Verdict, wele foresaw, allone. He should not fare, to that triumphant Throne : Three best belov'd, with Loves entire I knoe. Did challenge Death, they dye, away they go ; As Harbingers to Heaven : They sute as freends, The Court Hierchall ; done, their journey ends. Two Lennox Dukes, kynd brother, after brother Made way before ; each gloryeing in another ; 80 As if they had contended, to make haist, To welcome there, their owne Imperiall Guest. Than Hamilton fell next, my second Sone, Prickd with desyre, his course, he quickly runne : Lyke to the Star, that leads the Moone, so he, Did post before, made way for Majestie. Last came their King, the King of Mercy, met him. And by his throne of glory, downe he set him : High Alleluhiaes sung, the Angells joyed. To see his sp'rit, from hence, so wele convoyed ; 90 SCOTLAND S TEARES. For they had saved him, in all fearefuU seasons, From Powder-plots, Conspiracies, and Treasons ; Still lovd he Peace, and so he Peace posesst. He hvd in Peace, in Peace, his Soul, doth rest. His Subjects, that the Orient Coasts have trode, Who livd secure at home, as safe abroade ; Their Peace, he fastned, to the furthest Inde, Where travayles reachd, or ships could sayle by wynd : What mighty discords, jarres, and forrane broyle, Did he appease, and spard, no cost, nor toyle ; 100 He father-lyke, still quenched all Kingly ire, And made his aged yeares, old Europes Syre : Since Salomon, a wyser King ne'er raigned, Nor whom the Learnd, and Learning more sustaynd : In Memory unsurpassed, in Airts excelld. In Oratrie, a Prince unparalelld ; Whose sacred temples, knit with Delphian bayes, Gaynd him, a Kingly Poet, Poets prayse. His Justice, fraught with Mercy, bless'd his spirit, And liberall, he was, beyond man's merit : 110 The widdowes, orphanes, and poore men opprest. In him fund ayde, and in his justice rest ; This long devyded He, he joynd in One, And made this Britaine orbe, one Albion : In him, surceased, the Irish warres, and They, By him, wer taught, a Sovraigne, to obey : And for to setle, that Estate the better. Made large plantations, thousands came his debtor. Of late, ray second Scotia he erected, And Collonies t' America directed. 120 What gift, or grace, did Nature e're adorne, To which my mighty monarch was not borne. SCOTLAND S TEARES. ^ But now prodigious signes, portend my losse, See how the surges ryse, the waters tosse The seas presage a fall, their swelling streams Do threat my coast : now violent extremes Turne rage in madness : and tho waves at hand Seeme weary, and would rest them, on the land : They swallow up my works, and lyke to theves, Are seldome quyet, when their nyghbour grieves ; 130 I runne, and I adjurd them to recite The cause of their dissorder ; they hurling sit On trembling tops, and by a tumbling show, Presag'd, that Death had stroke the fatal! blow. The clyr&e, the season fits, the tyme, was one Their fury, in, my Sou'raignes Death, is gone. day of darkness, covert of my woes, Whence melancholy floods, of sorrow flowes, My wracks erected ; The clouds profoundly wept Fyve dayes and nights : The Sunne as clossely kept 140 His course obscure : The thundering wynds forth broke As if they meant to shake some mighty oak : Mens harts were loade with greef, their eyes with teares, Are gushing spoyled ; their mynds o'recome with fears, These elementall sygnes, foretold what losses Death would produce, fraught with desastruous crosses : My Darling dyes, my State declynes, and I, My grievous plaints, in darker kynds, must dy ; A dolefull widdow, wrapd in sable vales 1 must remane, true mourning there bewayles : 130 But see my Nobles post, looke how they tracd, To Isis banks, where his sad herse is placd ; There to attend the corps, which they so tender ; More, due, and duty, Death, they could not render ; SCOTLAND S TEARES. Nor is he dead, whose better parts reraane, The Sunnes ne'er set, but for to ryse agane ; He did not so, assume, to leave the earth Voyd of his Vertues, spoyld of royall birth ; But in his Phenix ashes, there should spring Another Phenix, for to be a King ; 160 Lyke to old Phebus, drawing to the west, 8eetnd weary of his journey sought for rest ; And left his second self, agane to ryse, In morning majestie, to face the skyes. And cheare the Elitropian leaves, that close Their mourning eyes, till Titan's glory rose ; And now my spotless faith, I plight thy Sonne, That never yet was staynd, nor never wonne My Mayden Crowne, thy image, he shall beare, Thou left him for to sweye thy Scepters here ; 170 Peace, Love, and Pitty were thy guerdons three. With THEM, thou raignst, now raignes eternally. Farewele Monarchick Sainct, let Legions tend Thee, As thou had Milleones, here for to defend Thee, Finis, * By WILLIAM LITHGOW. In his Countreyes behalf. Go prostrat Lynes, greet thyne Appolloes herse, Who, whylst alyve, lykd, lovd, and read my verse. SCOTLANDS WE L C O M E TO HER NATIVE SONNE. AND SOVERAIGNE LORD, KING C H A E L E S Wherein is also contained, the manner of His Coronation, and Convocation of Parliament; The whole Grievances, and abuses of the Common-wealth of this Kingdome, with diverse other relations, never heretofore published. Worthy to be by all the Nobles and Gentry perused ; and to be layd vp in the hearts, and chests of the whole Commouns, whose interests may best claime it, either in meane, or maner, from which their Priuiledges, and fortunes are drawne, as from the Loadstar of true direction. By William Lithgow, the Bonaventvee ofUVBOFE, ASIA, and AFBIOA. Be REGE Vaticinium. Pace datd terris, animum ad civilia vertet lura suutn, legesque feret justissimus auctor ; Exemploque suo mores reget, inquefuturi Temporis atatem, venturorumque nepotum Prospiciens, prolem sanctd de conjuge natam Ferre simul nomenque suum, curasque juiebit. Ovid. Met. 15. EDINBVBGH ^Printed byloHN Wreittovn. Cum Privilegio. TEE PBOLOOVE TO THE BEADER. p^Hilst ScoTLANDs Welcome, sends its substant show iiTo Mighty Charles, as bund duetie owe ; jyiTo whom sweet songs, and heavie plaints it brings, ^Mixt so, and framd, discovring serious things : Yet some blind judgments may condemne my Muse, For touching that, which they them selues abuse : But if it gall, their stinking sores, long wounded, A tush for base despight, from such hate grounded : Whose guilt may plead, and tell their conscience thus, Shrewd faults find eyes, and Tyme must punish vs ; Which if one age ago, this Land had beene Check'd of such faults, might now haue been fund cleane. As for the Critick, or the carping Slaue, Goe hang hiraselfe, I care not for a knaue : Whilst for the Cotnmoun-wealth, I stand to plead, To show Oppressours tyranny and greed : And eu'ry grievous vyce, this Land affords, Where I affect more matter, than coynd words, Brayne-wrested straines, ^nigmatick stile. Or epitomizd Epilogues the while : Although I dyving could, and soaring fetch. My top-winged flight, too high, for vulgar reach : Whilst I meanwhile, haue more paynes to be plaine, Than to be curious, in the highest strayne. For what this worke affbords, lyf-burning Taper ! I had no Bookes to read, when pennd, but Paper : With Ink, and Pen, my Chamber-gdimi&h bare, Warme Bed, and Boord, none other Book was there : But Memory, Invention, Experience great, Whereon my labours, build their solid Seat : Which if it bee not well done, goe and mend it, For with the same condition, I Thee send it : But stop, O stay I its harder to invent. Then adding invention, to whats here meant. This Web then see, of welcome I it Warp, Whiles playne and prolixe, sometymes breef, and sharp ; A Sad- Sadled, vnsadled, spurring on I goe, And neither spares my friend, nor hurtes my foe, But smoothly twixt two strugling shoares I runne. Flat-sandy Scilla, Charibdin rocks to shunne : For twixt like two, the golden meane may rest, Nether too bitter, nor too sweet is best : Which justly I set downe, and purpose lyke, Vpon the Annill, of the Trueth I stryke : And if I erre in one jote, I requyre, Let mee goe headlong to deaths fatall fyre. Say, if he come this yeare, say he come not, Yet tyme shall praise race, for a louing SCOT. Which being doubtfull, precisely, how, and when, I reddy made this worke, form Presse, from Pen : Yet not to vent my Bookes, nor haue them sould, Before myne eyes, his comming in behould : To whome the first I owe, to be presented. For onely, to him onely, its invented : Which when it is devulgd, I dare expect. From the judicious Lector, kynd respect. Then read, misconster not, but wysely looke, If reason be, the Mistrisse of my Booke, And if I finger, what thou fayne wouldst touch, ! thank mee, and be pleasd ; whylst I avouch, The commoun sorrowes, of this groaning Land, Which I lay open, to thyne open hand : Then ponder, and peruse it, thou shalst fynd, The Sole Idea, of thy Countreyes Mynd. Thyne, as Thou art Myne, William Lithgow. Nan vita hac ducenda est, quce corpore ^ spiritu continetur, ilia inquam, ilia vita est, qua viget memorid scBculorum omnium, quam posteritas alit, quam ipsa ceter- nitas semper intuetur. TO HI8 KYND FRIEND, AND RENOWNED Traveller, William Lithgovv. WHILST thyne adventures past, and Travells rare, In hotest Clymes, of vigour-parching Sunne : Through Europe, Asia, Africk thryse thy share, O're which brunt face, thy scorched Body runne : Still clogd with dangers, fortunat to shunne. Lyf-fatall hazards ; which attempts procurd. From curious drifts ; and which thy worth begunne, To knit thy fame, in memory immurd ; Renownd, admyrd, applausd, for aye assurd, To soare on wings, of never-dyeing Toyles, And in thy paynes, thy Countreyes name securd, Into the Annales, of remotest Soyles : But what I now admyre, are these thy spoyles. Thou bringst from Pindus Tops ; rare bred straine ! And pregnant style, which thyne engyne recoyles ; To show these greefs, which Scotland, do'th sustayne : A worke, where Trueth, most justly do'th coraplayne. On the abuse, and grievance of this Land, Which thou breks vp, from thy Patheticque veyne. To show thy Sou'raigne, how her cace doth stand : Then Roy all Sir, but listen to puruse, The sweet-sad songs of Liihgows matchles Muse, And Thou shalst see, what never yet was showne. To Scottish Kings ; since Scotland first was knowne. I. W. Vl R G. Tu ne cede malts, sed contra audentior ito. TO HIS LOVING PILGRIMAGIOVS POET, WILLIAM LITHGOW. CAN not thy Travells, blaze abroad thy worth? Which never yet did SCOT, the lyke set forth, Nor one in Europe, can with Thee compare, For thyne adventures, excellent, and rare, But that thou must, in adding fame, to fame, Thy matchles merits, in thy Muse proclayme : I can not call it Pryde, but vertue showne, From Thee, to vs, through this wyde He well knowne : But more an obligation, which thou ought. Vnto thy natiue Soyle ; so headlong brought, In deep distresses, grieuances, and losse, Whilst sorrow, on sorrow, addes crosse, to crosse, Which thou rippst vp, vnto the very roote. Whence all these evills come, and springing sprout : Besydes this jouiall welcome, to our King, Which quicke Invention, now to light do'th bring : ! rare relations I worthy of regard I And from thy Prince, and Soyle, deserve reward : But more for what, thou sufFerd into Spaine, For CHRIST and Countrey, and thy late Sou'raigne : Which if it be not weighd, in time I feare, That late repentance, shall buy pennance deare. Tymes haue their turues, and ev'ry turne a Tyme. Men could not shift, without some changing Clyme ; For where neglect, claps merit on the face, The errour, not the object, reaps disgrace : Then pregnant Pilgrime, rest thou yet content, Hope still that Tyme, shall crowne thy braue intent, KINGS haue their mynds, and reason just demands, For Merit, can not fall, where judgment stands. LA. Virtue repulses nescia sordida Intaminatis fulget honoribus. Herat. SCOTLANDS WE L C O M E TO HER NATIVE SONNE, AND 80VEBAIQNE LORD, KING CHARLES Hat dark-drawne shads, haue mysad face ore'spred ? fSince lames, the just, my peaceful! King, hath fled ,To court the King oi Kings ; and Hierarchies Of glorious Angels ; the sweet harmonies Of Sainets and Martyrs ; environing round The old Eternall ; with the joyfull sound Of Alleluhiaes ; singing fore the Throne, Holy, Holy, Lord, to Heavens, Holy One ; The Lamb of God, hembd in, with burning glore Praise, Might, Dominion, Majestie, and Power ; Where my Monarchick Sainct, for ever blest, Is crownd, and raignes, in long eternall rest. I, I, I find, my griefe, and chiefest care, Proceeds from wanting, of his Sonne, and heyre. So long vnuiewing Mee, and my sad bounds; Whose absence, prick'd Mee, with ten thousand wounds Of doubts, and apprehensions, if, or not, My lawful] King, would haue his Lawful! lot: A Whilst ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, Whilst diverse yeares and months I am refute, A mourning Widow, left in sable Sute. True, and most true it is, the Proverbe proues. That age is still injurd, by younger loues : And so am I, thine eldest Region made, A preye to darke obliuions winter-shade, Even as young Nuptialls, make olde Widowes stay, Wnwedded, till some lingring Husbands day, Where, when advyce, makes resolution fast, The cords of Reason, bynds him at the last. So now, O now hee comes ! O happy, Tyme ! To warme the bowells of my northern Clyme, Aud to reveiwe that Loue, my Sire left. Plight in my bosome, when the Heavens him rest : For which I'le make him welcome, Play the part, Of a kind Mother, with a chearefull Heart. What meanes this goodly sight ? these trouping traines ? Which trace the Marine : trade the curling plaines ? Crossing neare Tweed, my border-bounding Rod, Would enter on my Lists, a Demi- God : Second'd with Meteors, glistring him about, And met with Miriads, of my noble rout. some rare noveltie I some Heros deare I Who with his Prime, brings in my Springtyde here, The Load-star of my Fortunes, and the Cim£, Of my best Scopes, most pure, and most sublime. My flowre oi Albion, O I the solide way! And center of my Hopes, my Lyfe, my Stay : Even CHARLES the first, that ev'r brookd that Name, And Regall title, of my Diademe. Than welcome Sonne, my Husband, and my Father. All these to Mee, thou art, each one, or either. My Sonne, and why ? Dumfermling beares record, 1 am thy Patrian Mother in a word : My Husband too, by right from Parents bred, When with my Crowne, thou hast my freedome wed : And ^nd Soueraigne LORD, King Charles, And last my Syre, so can thy Scepter swey, \\ hilst tliou beares rule, I'me bund for to obey : And now to welcome Thee, what Lesbian layes ? With Zyr?c^-tripping songs ; what Roundelayes ? In /SopAzcA-seasond mirth burst from the Muses, And Cataphalion Creeks ; where Triton vses, To make the Sea-Nymphs daunce, O I shrill tund notes, Sprung from Invention ; thundring, through sweet throates Of euer springing joyes : Rome nere had In all her Triumphs past, one day more glad ; Than thou auspicious Prince, shall now imbrace From Millions of kynd Soules ; the passing grace, Of Loues extreamest force, lyke as on Earth, Seven Town-set Loues, Heart-swelld for Homers birth. Then what dark clowds dissolue ? what showry shades ? Dissolue in Sun-shyne clearenes ? what sparkling wades ? In thy transplendant rayes? what parching beames? My worlds eye-sight imparts ? what glistring gleames ? From Heavens star-spangled Roabe ? what joyes abound ? Within my Bowells ? I what pleasant sound ? Loues harmony affords ? O ! what rare Fleece ? Acoast, myne Araihusean Springs from Greece, With Acedalian Triumphes ; O ! what a blis ? And happynes, of luhile is this ? To see my Monarch, enter in my bounds To heale the sores, of my long bleeding wounJs : Whilst I, an Virgine, haue contingd my trueth, Vnspotted to my all redouted Youth. Lyke to that floure, Panthoas into Creet, That scornes the Sun-shyne day ? and loues to greet. The siluer Moone, in opning golden leaues, But to the day-tyme none, then onely grieues ; And will not with none other hearbs cohere. But with it selfe, and from it Cynthia deare, So thou the Aurore, of my long worne night Reverts to giue, thy chast Panthoas light I A 2 Then ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiiie Sonne, Then welcome Soveraigne, welcome to my Soyle, Where thou shalst pleasure, and content recoyle ; Here water Nymphs exult, here Zephire blowes A Pandedalian luster to my Rose: The aire resounds thy welcome, winds their part, And all good Subjects, one true voice, one heart : Two Marines closing, clasp Thee, in their armes Where clouddy Silvan tip-toed, stately charmes With sweet alluremento, shaddy pyping Pan, Whilst worlds of voyces, seeme one singing Man. So ecchoing Birds, from sweet redoubling notes, Sing soaring welcomes, though through diverse throates. Ingraft from fragrant Springs, Font-^nshmg streames Melting through Meeds, to welcome Thee from Thames : Three floods sprung from one Hill, East, West, and South, Clyde, Tweed, and Annan, each with gaping mouth. Doth bellowing roare, and kyndiy tumbling slyde, To greet thy gratefull Lone, as they divide : So Don, and Nith, swift Dee, and head-strong Tat/ Lake-linking Levin, Meandring Forth, and Spay ; Would melting murmure, rusling on fish'd Pearles, This sweet, sweet Eccho, welcome, welcome Charles. The Hills rebound, Bellowmound threats the Skies, And piramized Tinto would surprise Earths high jEthereall Seat ; whilst Goatfield hill, In Arrane greets the Mayne, with ecchoes shrill Of Heart-growne joyes, whiles that her snow-whyte Tops Stoup downe, and kindly thin affection lops. The Vayles exhale deep cryes, the whistling rounds, Of Farths seven-^ord Towres, performe like sounds ; All bid Thee welcome, Lithgovv bids Thee too ; For what in meane hee wants, goodwill shall doe E D I N- Let Edinburgh, my Metropole, perfite BVRGMS The rest, with Pageants, of admird delite : welcome. ^ Where Mercury shall speake, with syde-hung wings. And luno kisse soft Pallas ; Venus brings Her And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. Her golden Apple ; Loue and Riches carp, Gainst Wisedome, on, their God Appolloes Harp : There shall shrill Trumpets sound, lowd thundring Drummes, With roaring Cannons, cry, Hee comes, Hee comes : Where, when receau'd, by that illustrious Towne, Along thou rydst to Church, grac'd in renowne: Where thou shalst heare, flow from a zealous heat Divine drawne doctrine, mixt with welcomes great : Besides rare speeches, at each Pageant made. To cherish thine arrivall ; make the glad With lovely sights and prayses ; Poets straine, Sprung from quick Drvmmonds fierce Castalian veine. The Sermon done, their Provost shall conduct Thy sacred I'erson, the way, which they construct Straight to their Banquet-house, and feasting place ; Where rarest dainties shall present thy face : There Ceres ']oynes with Bacchus ; Hymen Uoy/^s,, To tye to them thy Loue, by solemne vowes ; For to maintaine, their libertie and right, Being their comfort, when they want thy sight. And ah ! too much it is, for that kind Towne, To want thy Court and Presence ; what pulles downe Best Citties now on Earth ? But want of trade," And Courtly Commerce; O ! a Soveraigne head: Where now I leaue them, to giue Thee content. For rie debord no more from mine intent. That fright-fled wandring Prince, from Ilions fire, Neu'r coasted Carthage, with more glad desire ; And the Barbarian shoare ; to find the grace. Of loving Dido, and her pittying face ; Than thou from this, Numidia of thine. Gets meeting, greeting, treating to bee myne : And gladder far, to see thy safe returne, Than Africks soile, could in affection burne, Vnto a Stranger ; for thou comes not so, As if promiscuous, neither friend nor foe. A 3 Nor ScoTLANDs Wellcome to her Natiue Sonne, repugnant cuparisms. Scotlands Crowne never ctm- quei'd. Nor comes thou with sterne bloody collours flying, Or with a doubtfull mynd, as one a dying : Nor lyke tljese Turkish fyre-brands of Hell, The race of Ottoman j that loue to quell, All sorts of People ; Persian, Greeke, and lew, Arabian, Moore, and Christian, would subdew, The Universe to bee, but one Dominion, Wherein, the Spanyard too, would bee his Minion : Nay ; thou comes better, so the Heavens appoynted, Euen, in the name of GOD, the LORDS anoynted : So, I receaue Thee, as the righteous Heyre, Of Mee, and myne inheritance, moft fayre. Which shall not crowne Thee, lyke these groaning bounds, Hemb'd in about, with the Hircanian rounds : Nor comes thou to encroach, on Indian Soyles, To pillage Peru ; and to cast the spoyles Of minrall Mettalls, on sterne bloody Mars, Wherewith sad Epitaphs, bedeck Mens Herse : Nor, as the Worlds Vsurper Philip did, When hee betrayd Navarre, vnder plots hid : Nor as hee seazd, on Portugale, and tooke. From lost Emanv^ll, the golden Booke : Nor like to Petro, basely murthring downe. The French, at Vespers, for the Sicile Crowne : Lyke instances, I many could aiFord, But Tyme, it traitours Mee, and in a word, O I thou comes well ! and with a Conscience just ; Of right indubitable ; i?ea*ow must, On Thee, confer my neuer-conquerd Crowne, Which now shall Crowne Thee, with the old renowne, Of thine Auncestors ; and which birth Thee brings. Descended from one hundreth, and seuen Kings : Which they by worth, and I by valour kept, Whilst myne encroaching foes, wi th Irne I whipt. But by thy leaue, (Sir,) I must let Thee see. What kynd of Crowne, I now present to Thee ; And Sovaraigne LORD, King Charles. A Mayden Croivne, vnconquerd, neuer wone, Since Fergus, my first Monarch it begunne : And so from him, to Kenneth who subdued, The Fights, and in their blood his hands imbrewd : Whence bloody battells, and braue chivalrye. From race, to race, kept and raaintaynd it free : Whilst neither Danes, nor English, Saxons could, With awfull Romans, this Crowne, get, or hould, Such were my forces, in my Champions strong, That still keept, it and Mee from forraine wrong. What should 1 speake of Wallace, Bruce, and Grahame ? The Dowqlasses, and Stewarts, of great fame ? The valour •^ ' 11 "/ Scotish With thousands moe, of much renowned worth, morthies. Which my true Chronicle, vively sets foorth. But leaue Thee there to reade, what deeds were wrought, And for thy matchles Auncients, stoutly fought. How many hundreth thowsand Lyves were lost? Which from my bowells sprung ; nay; I dare boast, Of Millions which to saue, this Crowne for Thee, And purchase freedome, car'd not for to dye. So lyke 1 sweare, if lyke were to invade. My Crowne, their fates, in fields of blood, should wade : 'J'han let not evill Counsel!, Thee invest, Nor trechrous Sicophant, thy peace molest : For I haue none, which burrow, of Mee breath. But rather far, will spend their lives on death ; Than suffer this, myne auncient right to goe, To moderne friendship, ones my cruell foe, And now to saue, this Virgin Crowne for Thee, There is no foe, can fright Mee, make mee flee, From right, from field, from battell, force, or fight, So long as I haue Lyfe, blood. Lungs, or might : Whilst now ; what Kingdome can their Frince renowned With lyke invinced, freedome of a Crowne : Looke to ray valour Past? and thou mayst spy. Where diuerse Nations, got of Mee supply. France ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, Fraunce can approue my Manhood, I relieu'd Their State from thraldome, when it was surgrieu'd : Witnesse, our mutuall League, witnesse their guard And myne their naturaliz'd, for my reward. Like Belgians swears, their strength, their stoutest hand, And Warriours best, are bred within my Land: The Almaynes too record, what I haue done And what my Souldiers, aunciently there wone : Looke to my Sister Swethland, and behold ! What birth I send them, desp'rate, stout, and bold : For Polland shee's my Nurse, brings vp my Youth, Full thritty thousands, yearely, of a trueth ; Than loades them with, the fatnesse of her Boyle, Which, I, in their due tyrae, doe still recoyle : Than look to Denmark, where twelue thousands l}"^, Serving thine Vncle, sharpest fortunes try. Smne. iuelb, and Warloks bee, Linkd in with Colles, in hot affinitie : Which GOD may grant I long may their vnion stand, Till Witchcraft quyte, be rooted from this Land, For ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, For cheating Brockers, and cursd Vsrers they, In eu'ry Towne, and Corner, beare great swey : They're Money- Mongers, and they know tymes, slaurye When need brings Vertue, halting to their knavery : The Brocker, must haue Pawnes, and double Pawnd ; And cares not for no caution, writ, nor Hand. But quarterly, monthly, by week or day. Must haue the Gabelle, of his cheating pay : Els fayling of the Tyme, oflP goes the Pawne, And thus is povertie, in bondage drawne. The Vsrer will take suretye, Bonds, and Bills, Or els Morgadgement, at disposers wills : For fyftene a hundreth, yea, sometymes twenty, And fills his Coffers, with such ill wonne Plenty : Yea, lets it all runne on, till day and date. Be long expyrd ; and to rayse his State, Out flies horning, Caption, fensing Commands, Imprisonment ; or els coraprysing Lands. Whilst the distressd Debter, rests pinchd, or slayne, Vnder the crueltye, of this Tigers gayne : O ! miserable wealth ! O I wretched greed 1 That eats the very bowells, out of need : But for to mend this, whilst they're plaguing fangd. The Brocker should be scourged, the Vsrer hangd. There's to a needfull Cauiat, I'le set forth, For eu'ry Noble Lord, and Man of worth. For Bishops, Preachers, euery towne, and place, Where vagabounding Greeks, vse now to trace ; Deluding and deceauing you, with leyes. And Testimonials fals ; base forgeryes. Of blynd inveiglings ; making you beleeue. They must their wives, their Bairnes, or friends releiue ; From slauerye, and from thraldome ; by Turks there tane, Either in Greece, in Asia, lies, or Mayne Whom they would haue redeemd ; from bondage brought. And Ransomes payd, for what dissembling wrought. Braclcers. Against Vmrers. ing Oreehs. But ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, The flah-y of EosiiU- eriei. The scarci- ty of small But I assure Thee, as GOD Hues in Heauen, There's no such matter ; nether are they driuen, To any such distresse ; my reason's here. The Greeks, vnder the Turke, borne eu'ry where ; Haue freedome peace, and safety ; liue as free, As any Subjects heere, can, or may bee : For now the Turke, being Lord, and they too sworne, How can he thrall them, they his Subjects borne : Nay ; neither Tithes of Children, Female Dote, They pay more now, for Achmet, rent that lot ; Yet when they payd them both, their lyues and Lands. Were then as free, as ours are in our hands. And far les for Religion, can they bee, Exyld or thrald, or els where, forcd to flee : Whilst there's libertie of Conscience giuen, To Greeks a.nA all kynd Christianes vnder Heaven, Through all his large Dominions : want nought els, Saue onely this, the vse of ringing Bells : Nay I vow God ; they liue more free of cares, Vnder their Lords, then Myne do vnder theirs : Then be no more deceau'd ; recall tymes past ! How Greeks, haue guild you, goulding them so fast. But if you will bee fooles, when knaves thus passes ? Yee merit what they make you, Dolts and Asses. My Hastes, and Hostesses, in every house, Can make their Guests so welcome they'le carrouse : With merryraent and laughter ; tell a Tale, Of Robin Hood, and Wallace ; make their Ale, Flee out of Pynts in Quarts : but being come, To whats to pay ? the Hostesse beats the Drumme ! Vp, vp. Good-man ; away ; there's' one in haist ! Must speeke with you. Come ? fj', he's almost past, The Hoste thus gone, the honest Guest must stay, And for Thome Trailer, all the reckning pay. So now, my Coyning-house, doth idle stand, And there no Pictures, stampd with Irne nor hand : There j4nd Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. There are no nioneyes going, nor golden collours, Saue Dutch and Holland, Saxone, Austrian dollours ; Now all are Dollars ; Dollors ought can doe, And when they want them, they haue Dollours too : For but them, with them, Dollors frequent be, Dollars in want, and Dollers when they flee : But worst, ther's no small money can bee had, Nor change for gold or silver ; Men are made Often for lack of change, to leaue, or losse Whole, half, or part, of their twyse Dollourd drosse : Men can not buy nor sell ; Men can not barter ; And Hostlaries smart too in eu'ry quarter. So Charity is curbd ; Men can not giue Their Almes, that would faine the poore relieue : Then (Sir) there's Copper, Copper too is cheap, Grieue not thy government, nor Moneyes keep, Of so small valew, from thy Commouns hand, Which still breeds wealth, and Commerce in my Land : In this both Spaine, and Italy are blest. With France and Germany, and Holland best ; Where most part of their moneys are in brasse, And freely too from hand to hand do passe : Then (Sir) cause coyne, Plaks, Achesons, and Turners s Ought will sufiBce to stop the mouths of Mourners. Now eu'ry office beares the name of Lord, The abmes And honour much injurd by wrong record : "Iffi^^at First then, for Lords of Session, none should be dy intitida- Call'd Lords for no respect, of what degree ; *^ ^'^^■ Saue onely two, Lord Chauncelor for his place, And the Lord President ; the rest I trace But worshipfuU and reverend, they're no more. All Europe with the lyke, the lyke decore ; And next my Shrieue, by heritage, or yeare, Must be call'd Lordship, els he will not heare : Then there's Lord Provost plac'd in eu'ry towne, And lach made Lord was yesterday a clowne ; E Yea ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, Yea, some-where there's Lord Baillie, and men must Vpon his Sheep-drawne shaddow Lordship thrust ; So Dearies of Gild are Lords ; Burges boords I Whilst Towne and Church Treasurers too are Lords ; And yet their Lordships in a commoun tale, Can mixe their graue discourse with Pynts of Ale. , Some Kirks and Colledges afford I see Lord Rector, Lord Archdeane, Lord how do yee ? So also is Lord Lyon grauely Lorded, Who more for worth than stile, is here recorded : Next, there Lord Doctor of the shy ting Potion, Who for some recipe, (not for devotion) Must be palmestrat, with red imag'd Ore, For which his Lordship thanks the good grandgore. In comes Lord Commisser, and he protests For Clyents and decreets, whilst yet, there rests Some fatal! Testments, which he must recall. To be confirmed, then thanks death for all : Then there's Lord Constable with his Nights Crue ; Of frozen Brissards, that will call on you, Come to the Lord Constable, come, or go To prison ; speek, what say you ? yea ; or no ; The Passenger, before his greatnesse come, One single quart will stryke his Lordsheep dombe. And last, to Lord them all, there are Trone Lords, Which beare sad Burdens, bund with rops and cords. That sometimes serue the Hangman, Scaffolds make For execution, and for justice sake : All which are Lords ; of diverse ranks each Creature, Even from the judges to the scume of Nature : But if that any Kingdome can afford, In all the world, the like name of a Lord ; I'le be content to pawne my Pilgrimes lyfe. For he best knowes how to decyde such stryfe : Yet anagram me Lordes, O now take heed I And yee shall find my Lords turne droU indeed : And And Soueraigne LORD King Charles. And so most are, (both Colledges exceptd) And true Lord Barons, falsly interceptd By Russian Fopperyes ; which corruption brings, On Noble stiles, not given them of Kings ; Which if it be not help'd, whats more ado ? But stile my Pilgrime, Lord Traveller too. As for my Castles, and my Marine Ports, y^^ rmine The first decay, the other, they want forts : of Castles Would Leith, Inchkeith, and May, were sconsd and block'd, p^*" As for Dunbertane it is strongly rock'd : But more by Nature, than by Airt I see, Whose mouldring walls brought low, defective be : Which if thine eyes surveigh, Thou'll cause amend it. And for its situat strength (doubtles) commend it : Blaknes that Dungeon must be still kept dry. Least with the levell ground it swaking ly : Yet stately Snadoun, Strivelings Castelld beauty. It still reserues for Thee a thankfull duety : .Yea ; if when need, a fort of great Defence, Whence linking Forth, Meander-crook' d, runnes thence. As for thy Fallace, Lithgovv, Fawlkland too. And Halyrude-house, Mansions, when ado ; Though now well kept, I feare long absence may, Turne thine Auncestors Stations to decay : And no great wonder, how can they abide ? When Thou and Thine shall els where still resyde : For Edinburghs fortresse it stoutely stands. High-tip-toe rockd, o'relooking Sea and Lands : Where lames the lust, of blest renowne, thy Syre, Was borne, and got the Crowne of this Empyre. Would Soundbroughhead, in Zetland were intrenchd, And Shalloway, neare Laxford too reflanchd ; And that Orcadian Kirkwall, eke rampierd, With Cafasound, that harbour much admir'd : Then would these lies, Septentrion safer bee. When made defensiue gainst the Hostile Sea : E 2 But ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Native Sonne, But for most other parts, few can ofFend them, Sea-sandy Shelfs, and Craggy Coasts defend them : As for my westerne lies, they need no hould ; Each Ilander hitnselfe is Bulwark bould ; Yet (Sir) looke to it, least my Forts decay, And these thy Mansions fall, and rot away. Now come I to Land-passages, and see, I find defects, would God could helped bee : Where are these Bridges, over Rivers plac'd ? Which sometymes haue my Body maynely grac'd Nay ; they're ruind, els vtterly decay'd Whose vntectd Arches, spoil'd, are quite deray'd : Most waters now haue neither Bridge nor Boafy Which makes so many sink, or helplesse float. Tlie defect What should I speake of Berths outragious Toy ? a/ Bridges. That shortly twyse hath tane her Bridge away : But wayle the losse, that Towne receav'd thereby ; And for remeed to TheCy my Sou'raigne cry I O Gracious Sir I cause build that Bridge againe, And flank each Columne with hornd Arches twaine : The stones were long and larger than before, The Arches wydCT, doubling on each Shoare : Which made more high and wyde, the strugling flood, May calmely vent, and not proue half so rude : For which, good work, the Countrey being easd. Thou shalt be praisd, and God therein well pleasd. There many other Rivers, Brookes, and Strands, Streames, Rills, and Torrents, march-divyding Lands : Would faine be bridg'd, made passable and plank'd, Men might find way, and Beif.efactors thank'd : But Where's the Earle, Baron, Laird, or Knight ? Will prove so charitable, though he might : Nay ; there's no Commoun-wealth, nor commoun works, Most of them building Nests for Chimney Storks : But to speake trueth, in times past, and of late, When Friers and Cloisters had their swaggring state : These And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. These good and beneficial deeds abounded, Which now by vs are ruind, rent, and wounded : And yet my Nobles, brooke these Tyihes and rents, Supply'd this charge, which many one repents : For them, what good they doe therewith, its knowne. They sat themselues, then leaue it to their owne. Then to helpe this, cause eu'ry Land-Lord, lo ! Through whose just bounds, thj- Market Streets do goe ; To build, sustaine, repayre, whats in decay. And over lets, to make free passage way. But if this task may seeme to great for one, Then let the Shyre helpe him where its done : And as the work to modifie the meane, Wherein the vulgars formost still are scene : So shall this Nation blesse Thee, praise them too. When Landed Men this Christian good shall do. Now. for my losses, by the Hostile Sea, Inmrsary These long fiue yeares, in numbers many be : & '"^ The Divelish Dunkirker ransacks my Ships, And with the scourge of Pryde my fortune whips, Along the shivring tops of rouzing billowes, Menassing Mars and Neptune ; all he swallowes Within the throat of Hatred; and he fills Their Flandrian Ports with Masts as high as Hills : My Men are captiues, and their goods are lost To them and theirs ; thy foe of too free cost, Enjoyeth all, and then, at randon lets Mens Hues and freedome ; if he ransome gets : And ly even as they please on JErmouihs coast Or Humher mouth, where all my ships are lost : Where then my Cursars ? Where thy Men of war ? Nay, when they see them, hover off a far ; And basely suffer thine Enemies to prey, Vpon thy subjects, making no supply: If this be right, or if warres be intended ? I wish a better course, els they were ended. E 3 Besides ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, The misery Besides these Sea-bred griefs ; ah 1 now I see, of War. Through spatious Europe a deformitie : What strange combustions, tumults, and vproares ? Are here and there, alwhere the Sword it goares : O wretched Tyme I most barbarous and rude. To see the Christian World, drunk dead with blood ; And not one Kingdome left without cursd jarres, So vniversall are these woefuU warres : Kings against Kings, Nation against Nation, Perfites the Prophecy of Desolation : The like deludge, reciprocating stryfe, Was not, since last, Rome lost her Tribune lyfe : woefull warre ! which lessens wealth and strength, And brings the ruynes of ruine at length : It doth dishonour Honour, and degrad The mighty Man from what his greatnesse had : Even like the rage of the impetuous flood, Debording from his banks, leaues slyme and mood. To choke the fertile plaines, supplants the rootes Of Hearbs and Trees, defaceth quite the fruits Of grapes and grayne ; and often breaks the walls Of strongest Townes, whereon destruction falls. Even so the fury of the bloody Warre ! In breking downe the bonds of Peace, debarre The links of Loue and Alliance, quite defaceth The libertie oi Nature, and disgraceth The ornaments of Tyme, and cuts the throat Of Martiall Darlings ; then casts vp the lot Of desolation, which destro)'eth all, Which can to meane, or mighty Men befall : What though to lyfe, we all but one way came ; Yet diverse wayes we go out of the same ; So fatall Sword decrees Deaths worst and best ; Mans Epilogue to be, nunc mortuus est. Then heere's the CataMrophe ! warfare brings, For Preter losse the present thought of things. As And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. As Christendome may curse that Counte of Tome, The day that he was got, bred, breathd, or borne : For diverse causes in Matthias tyme, Which ah of late ! turn'd to a vulgar cryme. So may a lesser World, a greater curse Impose on some, vchose ruind drifts were worse : But tush, let Fortune wag, the Balls runne on ; The Wheele in pieces chatter, all is One : There is a day, when Tyme shall bring to dust, There falshood and false honours most injust : Let Caperculian, Musick Nigromancers, French fidling play es, and blind disseuibling Dauncers, Enveigle heavie Tymes, and runne the Snovt Of trecherie vpon a sakeles rout : There is a Maskerat, will ones discover The length twixt Reize and Calz, from Calz to Dover. Take heed of Sinons teares, take heed of this False-smyling Clepho, veith a ludas kisse : Mongst sweetest flowres the link-layd Serpents ly, And lurking sting, the harraelese goers by : So vnder fairest words, the falsest heart Doth pry, and dyue, to work some grievous smart : For it is incident to Courteours still, To speak one way and haue another will : But much more in the Minion, who pretends A Sou'raigne Mateship for his trechrous ends : Which, though his greatnesse springs not from true merit, But from the pow'r of loue, which Kings inherit : Yet often, and too often, ah I I find. That Kingly favours, breed a false, false mynd : And seldome eu'r escapes without retort. So doubtful are the dangers of a Court. So present tymes, may for example trade ^ke tre- On Duke de Lerma, whom Don Phillip made "I'^y "f His Mineon, and his Oracle, his guide ; The King being simple, meek, and mollify'd : This ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Souhe, This meane-borne gentle-raan, now made a Prince, Did swallow vp ambition ; and from thence, The Dregs of Avarice, dishonest greed, And from his Prince hee stole, not having need ; In nyne yeares tyrae, full eight Millions of gould, Whilst Phillips Loue was dearer bought, than sould : At last detect'd, and all his knaveries knowne, His Spanish Motto in these words were showne : El mayor ladron del Mondo ; Para non morir aorcado, Vestiose de collorado, &c. and englishd thus, The greatest Theefe, the oldest Knaue That Hell, the Divell, or Spane could haue ; To shunne the Gallowes, hee with speed, Did cloth himselfe in collour red. For he turnd Cardinall, and gaue the Pope, Two hundreth thousand Crownes to flee the rope : So had this Dvke his Mineon, eke a Don, Made Marques too, call'd Roderick Calderon ; Who following Lermaes footsteps, wax'd so bould, That he stole too four Millions of pure gould : Which being discouerd for his fellonie, This courtly Theefe hee was condemn'd to dye : The lyke and like againe I could produce. But this may serue for to shut vp the sluce. Admmiti- O ! if that Kings I as they are Kings would look, '^f"'' And read lyke records of as blak a book : Kings. •' Sure they would see great errours they commit. In giving trust to any Parasit ; But thou blest King, thou art not cary'd so, Thou canst discerne thy friend from secret foe : And will not be the same that thou do'st seeme. How fond soever vulgare censures deeme : Yet in times past, the like erronious errours, Haue bred to Kings and Kingdomes, helples terrours : Who from himselfe bequeaths himselfe, and State. (And in his crowne would haue a rivall Mate) Vnto And Soueraigne LORD, King Charles. Vnto anothers gouernment, and will ; God knowes some Puppy, voyd of wit and skill He is but half a Man, and not his owne, Yea sometymes scarce, the half that I haue showne, For he thats led, and ruld by others pleasure, In judgement, nor in justice, keeps no measure. As KINGS are absolute, so, should they be, As absolute, in sound dexteritie. Saue in great matters, than to be advysd. By Counsells graue, or they be interprysd : If not and so, that one, must needs rule all, Be't Lyf, or Honour, Liberty, or thrall : Looke to the events, doubtfully confusd. Whilst or the Bird be hatchd the Egge is bruisd : What Dauid sayd of lyke ? I'le praysing tell. He begd of GOD, to send them quick to Hell : So KINGS haue perishd, and their Kingdomes falne In cruell bondage, and their People thralne : Lyke made young Osman, loose his Princely Lyfe, Which filld his Kingdomes, with intestine stryf, So the last Hungar King, was crossd and sackt, And by his Minion, fould, ruynd, and wrackt. But why? should I, examplify, so much, Since thou hast deep experience of such : Yet he is happy, makes anothers fall, A warning to prevent vntymely thrall. Ah ! and thryse ah ! so Germany is layd, Vnder the Spanyards foote ; and Austria made, of Ger-' Ihe head of that Empyre : greef beyond sorrow, inanij. To see proud Tirants, from ten Princes burrow : Such helples loanes ;'that neither sword nor might. Nor Law nor Reason, can recall their right. ! that one blow ! one Tyme ! ! angry fates ! Should ruyne both Religion there, and States : Cursd be the spight of that vntymely doome, Which Spaine divyseth, and confirmd by Rome : Y Spaine The mine ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Native Sonne, The Span- yards in- satiable greed of dmninion. Lithgows iuivM and crudl tor- twrs inflict- ed upon him in Malaga. Spaine seekes dominion, and the Popes impart, Them power to swallow all, so they haue part : And Thee, and thy three Kingdomes too, they would, Cast in the fornace, of a Spanish Mould. Yet Tyme may lash, the force of thy prowd foe. And make ambition, subject to lyke woe : Who seeks Kings ruine, and would domineere O're all the Vniverse, yea, and vpreare, The base record, of Vandals Gothes, and Hunnes, Of whome they're come Men, Daughters, Wyv£s, and Sonnes, Whose greed most Indian Soyles, can not contayne, Nor large Americk the old, and new namd Spaine : The Sea- coast Affrieh Townes ; Atlantick lies ; Nor Ballearen, nor Sardinian Styles : The fat Sicilian playnes, got by the blood. Of murtherd Gaules, can not his pryde includ, Nor the Apulian, Callabrian Lands, and more, The Seate of Naples, the Lavoreen Shoare : The Millane Dutchy, nor Pavian bounds ; The racked Belgia, nor the high Burgounds ; The Fyrhenian Navarre, the Voltelyne ; Can not this Monsters Monarchy, confyne : For if he could, he would, himselfe invest, From Pole, to Pole, and so from East to West : Yet doubtles Tyme, his pryde and greed shall dash. And raze his might, for so can fortune lash. Thou mayst recall herein, that cruell payne. And bloody Tortures, Lithgovv had in Spaine, Which for CHRISTS sake, his Countrey and thy Syre He patiently endur'd, 1 thou mayst admyre : His constancy for Trueth, and for that Treason, Injustly layd on him, beyond all reason : Being in tyme of Peace, and no suspect, Of breach ; but what they falsly did detect : And hauing too, thy Fathers Scales, and Hand, For to protect him, to the j^thiope Land: Whose And Soueraigne LORD, Kinq Charles. Whose lyfe, the English factors seeing surgrieud, By meanes of Noble Aston him relieud : What Tongue ? what Pen ? what Mynd can well expresse ? , Or heart conceaue ? his Torments mercyles : Nay ; none but thy late Father, rightly weighd, And Parliament ; how they his Peace inveighd : For which (deare royall lAMES,) had full regard, His Suffrings, and his Trauells, to reward : Yea, graciously maintaynd him, tooke delight, To heare his rare discourse, of forraine sight : Then {Sir) make fals, this Proverbe, turne his debter. There seldome, comes (Men say) a Father better, Say though hee had not for thy Crowne, bene crost, Rackd, bruisd, disjoynted, and his Fortunes lost : With all these moneyes, thy Syre did him gift, And Thow Thy self, for to advance his drift : Witii Papers, Observations, Patents, Scales, Which now are lost, and lost for aye, he feeles : Yet doe his Trauells merit, his rare adventers : His wandring long, beyond the Earths full Centers : His curious drifts, slighting wretched gaines : His much-admyrd attempts 1 his matchles paines, His Fame hee wonne thereby, to Mee and Myne, Leauing my stamp, on Earths remotest Shryne : And where I was not knowne, did annalize, My Name in records, of true Sacrifice : Yea did acquaint Mee, with each kynd of thing. That pregnant Knowledge, could contentment bring ; Strengths, Townes, Castles, Cittadales and Forts, Distance of places. Regions, lies, and Ports, Their maners, too, and living, rites, and Lawes, Customes and gouernment, Religious Sawes : Of Turke, and lew, Arabian, Greek, and Moore, Sdbwnch, and Coptic, the Egyptian glore : The Cypriot, Tartyr, Creet, and Turcoman, The grosse Armenian, Sun-burnt Affrican ; ¥ 2 The ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, The Abasine and whyte Moore ; the Nestorian, The Chelfane, Jacobin, Syriack Georgian ; The Amaronite, Lybian, and Nigroe black, Besydes all Europe, in a word to take : All these and reasons, many hundreds moe. Deserve that {Sir) thou shouldst appease his woe. For he's the first, of Trauells, ever wrot. Since my all-Virgine Wombe, first bred a Scot : The Prince of Pilgrimes, Father of them all, And greatest Traveller, Earths circling Ball, Can Europs eye affoord : happy Man ! Whose mynd feasts, on rare sights ; which none els can ; There Thousand Thousands, eu'ry where complayne. That thy just bounty, should him not sustayne, But hath imposd vpon him, a sore greef, To make my Bowells, yeeld him now releef : Where ah I there's nought, but povertie and pryde. And misregard to Merit, so wele try'd : / could be more Pathetick, in his greef, But that were too indulgent, I'le be breef, Then {Sir) For my request, thy Soyle, thy Nation, Help LiTHGOvvs want, relieue his desolation. Then shall thy bounty praise Thee, place thine Heart, On merits Glory, gracious to desert. Decayed To speek of ruind Churches, vntectd, vnwalld, Left vnprovyded, stipend-vnenstalld, Into my Borders, lies, and High-land parts, Which deep experience, to my sight imparts. It would too tedious be, and prolixe proue ; So I'le desist, the helpe ly'th in thy Loue ; Which euer yet, thou zealously exprest. For GODS true Glory, in thy lyfe profest. But true it is, the Lairds which owe the ground, Are causes why, they thus abusd are found. But more than this, there Preachers, that are placd, Within my Maine, and orderly imbracd Yet Chwches. And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles, Yet can not get their stipends, and Church rent, Without contestion, and great discontent. The Parish Laird, or Lord, objects some clause, Against the Pastors, Ministerial! cause, Els thus in robbing, of his yearely fee, To force him both, from Church and Parish flee : This done for law they goe, to plead it out, Till slyding yeares, and months, runne thryse about. Which now makes Edinburgh, each Session bee, So full of Preachers, swarming as I see : Whilst ah, their flocks at home, are evill taught, And Oods blest Sabboth, too prophanely fraught. With drunken Vyce, and lewd laschivious sin, Which without Doctrine, soone comes creeping in : Thus many Preists are plagud ; and vnrelieu'd, The people perish, honest hearts are grieud. The Lairds triumph, in their ambitious hate, And care not for GODS worship, nor Mans state. Which if it be not helpd, O grieuous crosse I I feare Religion, shall haue the losse. So with this grieuance, I bequeath the rest, To be reforrod by Thee, and soone redrest : Then weigh them right, into thy judgment just, That these confusions may be brought to dust : So shall this Land be happy, liue in rest, By thy good Gouemment ; when Trueth thryse blest, Shall Crowne thy Justice ; and when Vyce shall be, And errours grosse, repayrd in equitie. The Parliament done, now I must commend, Some Nobles to thy Loue, and so I'le end : Make much of Hamilton, my Princely Peere ; Thy choysest Subject, and thy Cousing Deare. Whose Byre, whose Grandsyre, whose Pedegree, For faithfull service, to thy crowne and Mee ; Deserve the Mausolaeon Tombe ; Cariaes wonder. To blaze thereon, their fame ; and for to thunder. F 3 Ministers wronged Jy their Pa- rish Lairds. A recom- of all the Protestant Nobles to his Maie- slie. To ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, The Jumse of Mar. Montrose. Mv/nteiih. To Tymes succeeding ; in mem'rie of worth, Their Noble actions : set so lyvely forth : To each declyning Age : That even his part, Their former Lyves, stamps in his hopefull Heart : Whose greatnes is my Mirrour, and whose light, Illuminats my Westerne bounds by right : Whence gratefull Clyde, redounds from chearefull banks, To that Illustrious Youth, ten thousand thanks. To pen, arid praise to 2%ee, that house of Mar, In Mee were odious ; since thou knowst how far ; It do'th surpasse most others : for that Lord, Deserues my Chronicle, for to record, His Providence, and Wisdome ; whilst his deeds. Do trample vpon Vertue ; whence succeeds : So many Sonnes and Daughters : O I rare birth ! Whome GOD may long blesse, and preserue on Earth : That as their Si/re, in his matchles fame, So they them selues, may still retayne the same ; Whilst Glory, vpon Glory, shall redowne, To Them and Theirs, an euer-fixd renowne : As for that hopefull Youth, the young I/ord Grahame, lames Earle oi Montrose ; whose war-lyke Name, Sprung from redoubted worth, made Manhood try. Their matchles deeds, in vnmatchd Chiualry : I doe bequeath him, to thy gracious Loue, Whose Noble Stocke, did euer faithfuU prove : To thyne old-agd Auncestors ; and my bounds, Were often freed, from thraldome, by their wounds : Leaning their roote, the stamp of fidele trueth. To be inherent, in this noble Youth : Whose Hearts, whose Hands, whose Swords, whose Deeds, whose Made Mars for valour, cannonize the Grahame. (Fame Wherein Muntieth, that auncient Earle may. Plead for his part, whose right retaines it aye. In Owe, and the same Stock, being branchd, and graft, By discent in it, and whose Lawrell shaft : Of And Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. Of Honour aymes it, for his worth may clayme ; The Caledonean Mantle, in the Chahame. To rouze the trueth, which still must passage find, Rotlumse. Of worthy Roihvts, and his learned Mynd ; / doe admyre him, for his gifts most rare, Which few can paralell, nor yet compare ; With him for auncient Blood, nor present worth, Which pregnant deeds, and Learned parts set forth. Now plead I for the Earle Home, and see. The Earle That Martiall Name, did much for Thyne, and Mee : ^'^• They were my Bulwark, in the easterne Border, « And keept my Nyghbour foes, in awfull order : For Home, deryvd of Homo, is a Man, And Merse, ot Mars, so Home, and Merse, I scan : Whose auncient services, and moderne Loue, Deserve of Thee great thanks, rewards of love : Who by just merit, weare the Sanguine Rose, Of all these Confynes, which my Lists, enclose. So paynt I foorth, with pensile-drawing hand, That noble Mirrour, Marshall of my land : There's Noble Cassells too, and gallant Mortoun, j^ EarU Deserue, as they enjoy, Auspicuous Fortune, ingeneraU. With Murray, Aimie, Sutherland, and Lome, Lithgow, Eglintoun, Wigton, and Kingorne : Ruckcleuch, and Suchan, Hadington, Glencarne ; Roxbrough, Galloway, Sea-Forth, Tillibarne ! Cathnes, Dumfermling, Kellie, Lawderdale ; Perth, Louthian too ; Crawfurd, and Annandale, And last, though first, so first, and last now looke, Vpon thy blood and kinsman, Lennox Duke. All which are Peeres, by true Religion Crownd, And Honour to, thy faithfull friends renownd. Though here I place most, not as order growes. But from my kyndnes, as affection flowes, Let HerauMs rank them, its enough for Mee, To show their Names, and keepe true Poesie As ScoTLANDS Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, As for Lord Barons, Lyndesay and CathCart, Lard Ba- Boyd, Basse, and Tester, Forhus, pious Heart : rms. Lord Viscont Dupline, Chaurteelor of my State, With Marcheston, as good, as now made great : Sinclair, and Saltoun ; Lowdon, in the West, With Elphingston, and Burley, I protest : Borthwick, and Dalyiell, Oglehie, and Shane, Coivper, and Bamsay, Bruntilland, Lord Doune : Lovit, HalyrudeJuyuse, Cranston, Blantyre, Kinelevin, Balmarinoch, Lindores, Kintyre : Madertie, Torphichen, and Viscont Aire ; Camagy, Drumlanerk, Weems, and Traquaire : Desfurd, and ledbrugh, Colvin .- And how far, May I, even with the best, bring LocMnvar : With Ltice, and Waghton, Johnson, too and Keire, Who know'th but they may Lords be the next yeare ? Drum and Glennorchy too, I well may rank, In way of Honour, sitting at their flank. All these bee thyne, thy Darlings, and the knot. Which tye my freedome, to each worthy Scot ; Being religious Lords, and wele reformd, From Superstition, and to trueth conformd : And if some be not so, (dissemblers then) They're scoffing Atheists irreligious Men : For if the inward, with the outward show Agree not ; then they're Hipocrits I know. But each and all of them, doe make profession, Of CHRISTS reformed Church, by cleare confession, The Con- ^^ ^'"' ™y Papist Lords, its hard to say, ditian of Whether the Pope, or Thee, they best obey, Lords ^°^ Mee, I will not count them, or make doubt, But they may soone be tould, being here left out. But this I may avouch, though they're enclynd. In show to Thee ; Borne keeps their heart and mynd : Contayning more, seven Hills within her walles, And why, not too, their silly Hearts and Saules : For ^nd Soveraigne LORD, King Charles. For there are holes and Caues, and ruind Pits, And Vineyards too, to which my Papist Jiits : Yea ; stinking Pudles, of Sodomitick lyues, Where best the Boy with the Cardinall thryues. Yea ; and this Pope Vrban, ones my Protector, To Masculine mis'rye was Architector : Witnesse Bullogne, Ravenna, Ferrare Torine, Ancona too, plac'd by the Adrian Marine, What then Romes Legat, that's now Pope committed? It were an odious thing to be omitted : For when my Youths, he then surnamd my head Came to him, seeking succour : O I then with speed ! If that the face was good, he soone calld in, And gaue them Crownes, with blak Gomorrdhaes sin : Witnesse Jach Ogelbie, thou canst report. What way this Pope, thy screeking Somb did court ? For which this Lad beene grieu'd, in very spight. He stole nyne hundreth Crownes, and took the flight, From this same Pope, then Cardinall Barbarino ; And came to Venice, crossd the Alps to Rhino. I could tell tyme and place, and how he vsd This Youth with many moe, whom he abusd : But now Divell fetch him, what should I reveale ? He lou'd my Lads posteriour parts too wele : In Rome and Italy was never seene, A greater Sodomit than he hath beene : He was my Scots Protector, and infectd them, With beastly filthinesse, so he protectd them. Then heere's their Pope, his Holinesse indeed ; CHRISTS Viccar, S'. Peters heyre, their Churches head ! O ! Monster against Nature ! O Desolation ! Q filthy Wretch ! vyld abomination ! Downe stinking Sow, downe Beast to Pluloes Cell, Instead of Heaven, keeps there the Ports of Hell. Now Priest haue with thee, for a single bout, Against For well could I (if tyme seru'd) paynt thee out : mfyT' G What's Maise. ScoTLANDs Welcome to her Natiue Sonne, What's now thy Masse ? (come tell me) nay its such ; A foolish fopprie, that 1 dare avouch, It is the sink of Sinne, the nest of errour ; The gulfe of Superstition ; and the Mirrour Of blinded Ignorance ; whose mumbling mood ; Even in the action is not vnderstood. And there's the Masse, Idolatrie corapleets 1 The Priest, his owne Creator frames and eats : But more thy Bhisphemy ; O subtile foxe ! That dares to lock thy God within a Boxe ; To be consum'd with Mothes, and wormish gnats, Yea; worne with Tyme, and eaten vp with Rats : As for thy Miracles, and penny -pardons, Thy purging Pit, Indulgences, and Guerdons : I know what thou confessd, thou touldst mee plaine, They were but forged leyes, for getting gayne : I could at length show hundreths of like errours : Whose works, and wayes, of Hell, are meerest Mirrours. O what delusions ? and what Divelish drifts ? Of cursd suggestions, in the jugling shifts ; Of false Opinion, intricat their braines With blind diversion ; and with halting straynes, Of bould Presumption ; thus dare cast the Mould, Of their incestuous lust ; for now behould I They trust in their owne labours, and degresse From Gods true worship, in their mumbling Masse, The igno- But for my Noble Brood, and crew of Papists, ranee of They Hue more by opinion, as do Atheists, Than any sound construction ; for tradition Is all they looke for in their superstition : Yet when my Church threats excomunication, As soone they find some wrested dispensation, Or els forbearance : why ? Because they're Earles, And court Thy Court, to beg Thy favour Charles: Let this be help'd, for both to hould, and hunt, Is more than ever sound Religion wont. And Papists. And Soueraigne LORD, King Charles. And call to minde what David he would do. First clenge his home, and then his Kingdome too ; Say, if the Spring be sowre, how can the streame Be sweet ; or how can light from darknesse gleame ? For great Ones they are Presidents, and may Bring good or bad into a commoun swey : So People by example, more than L ^^ momc to grave we're sped, vitie of life, "^^e sight this world, as birds by gazers glyde ; As dreams evanish, so our dayes are fled ; Like water bubles, as soone quelld as spyde : Thus heart-grown man, ingorgd with pryde and lust. He posts, and posts to death, then tumes in dust. To argue on corruption, that subverts The good we would, and choaks our best desires ; It is a senselesse appetite, perverts The light of reason, with entangling fires : A head-strong blinde irregulary HI, That captives wit, and wounds both sense and will. Corrupt!- Its stroug in all infirmities injust, "" Tth ^^^ fraile in goodnesse, weak in sound conception : things. Its ruU'd by nature, and her daughter lust. Which blinds the Hght of knowledge, with deception : Like pitch, corruption, blacks the purest soule. And where it comes, makes eVry clean thing foule. It takes best hold, on imbecillitie, And where that fortitude, deficient is, It dare not wrestle, with dexteritie, Nor count with Temprance, one defective misse : Much like a Euffian, or a Theefe by, night. It loves, and lives in darknesse, more than light. Corruption, of godUe sorrow. Corruption, many wayes, may be defind, To be a Syc?ra-neck'd Herculian snake ; Stop'd at the eye, it compaaseth the minde, Barr'd from the soule, the heart it soone will take : Say, if the eare be deafe, the hand will feele, And if it smell not, it can taste too well. Corruption, rules most states, and office places, In Church and Common- wealth, it beares great swey t It masks the Merchants, with Giheonitish faces ! And with each trade, it can the harlot play : From mighty men to mean, see ! what I sought ? I flnde them all corrupt'd, their wayes are nought. Corruption, in their brybries, fraught with greed, Corruption, in their flesh, subborn'd by lust, The Corruption, in their manners, fall of need, vaSetieTot Corruption, in their sinne, and lives injust : corruption. Corruption, in their malice, flankd on pryde, Corruption, in their wills, blinde Natures guyde. Corruption, in the treachrie of deceat, Corruption, in false weights, and falser measures, Corruption, in vUe perjurie, and hate. Corruption, in the hoording up of treasures : Corruption in hypocrisie and strife. Corruption in a base dissembling life. Corruption, (ah 1) in justice by the Judge, Corruption, too, in partiall ends 'gainst reaspn ; Corruption, in the traitour, that dare lodge Corruption, fixt on murder, and high treason : Corruption, in oppression, and what then ? Corruption, in the lavishnesse of men. F 3 Corruption, The gushing Teares Corruption, in forg'd tales, and false reports Corruption, in fraile fleshly vile desires ! Corruptiob, in base taunts, and jeering torts, Corruption, in despysing naturaU Syres : Corruption, (ah \) in negligence and slouth, Corruption, from fond sports, in age or youth. Corruption, in ambition, and high looks, Corruption, in straind-selfe contract'd opinions. Corruption, in best learneds, and best books. Corruption, in great Princes, and their Minions : Corruption, in vaine courtly Courtiers stiles, Corruption, in sunk Worldlings greedy wiles. Corruption, in abusing outward things. Corruption, in vile drunkennesse, and swearing. Corruption, in a Wranglers crafty wrings. Corruption, in delay, and long forbearing : Corruption, in the ignorance of mindes. Corruption, in best knowledge of all kindes. Corruption, in prest complements, and phrases, Corruption, in bad cariage, mask'd with guile, Corruption, in poore flattrers foolish praises, Corruption, in most Pen-men, and their stile : Corruption, in a Sycophantick leyar. Corruption, in the Layers mouth and Pleyar. Corruption, in Adultrie, and worse lust. Corruption, in backbyters slandring tongue. Corruption, in lost credit, without trust. Corruption, in the gathering worldly dung : Corruption, in blinde filthy Criticks censures. Corruption, in mechanick glyding tonsures. Corruption, of godlie sorrow. Corruption, in corruption, sinne afords, And ev'ry way corrupt'd, corruption swallowes ; Most grow absurd, corrupting deeds and words ! And in the pudle of corruption wallowes : The hollow heart of man, such venome vomites Of all corruptions, that they're fixt for Comets. All which portend, some grievous dissolution, In ev'ry state, a wofuU alteration ; Sprung from enormities of pollution. This land is turnd, the face of desolation : Both great and small, the scourge of fortune feele, Whose fates are tost, still round about the Wheele. To day a Lord, to morrow fled to warres, To day a Laird, to morrow turnd a beggar ; To day in wealth, to morrow closd with barres ; To day in peace, to morrow swear and swagger : To day in farme, to morrow forcd to flee. To day puft, up, the morne, cast downe we see. fortune. Sinne is the cause, which makes such judgements fall On Land-lords now, who still oppresse the poore ; They taxe and raxe them, keepe them under thrall. That most are forcd, to leave both hold and doore : Whose grounds in end is sold, or else ly waste, Both Tyrants, and th' opprest, such changings taste. Lord ! save me from this all-corrupted age. Where craft joynes with extortion either hand ; Blood, and oppression, may but passions swage. Strict law and justice, quite forsake this land : Men now must gaze, like Souldiers battell broke, That looke for aide, else for the fatall stroke. Nay, The vici- ssitude of The gv^hing Teares Nay ; we're corrupt'd, in thought, in word, and deed ! Yet of all sinnes, vile drunkennesse is worst : It breeds all iU, and of all vice the seed, It harbours lust, and makes the Actor curst ; And smothering shame, it wallows in despai're, Where spoiling vertue, seeks examples rare. Noah first Qur Patriarch Noah, after the deludge, ^d™8t Had shunn'd sommersing, of the first drownd World ; got drunk gg planted vines for man, healths sound refudge ! with it. "^ 1 • 1 1 1 1 Yet made his toyle, the snare wnerem he nurld : The grape was sweet and strong, see 1 how he sunke ? He graft it first, and first with it was drimk. This worlds sole Monarch, of the second age, Who buUt the Arke, which saVd him and his race Undrown'd ; Behold ! was tane, and turnd the Page Of glutting Bacchus, senslesse of his cace : Was it not strange ! this Oolumne could decline ! That scaping waters, yet was drownd with wine. But he, great he ! earths sov'raigne Lord and Father, Had no intent, to foxe his sober senses ; But tasted, touch'd, and drunk ; then faild, or rather He seald his fault, to shelter like offences : Not so ; his slip, pleads o'resight unacquainted, And reason would, he tast'd the thing he planted. keimesse Like SO, was Lot, ensnar'd, when fled for feare ''eft"' "* From burning Sodome, and cavernd at night ; Was by his daughters gull'd : They thinking there ! The world was gone ; sought to restore the right Of natures race : And he stark drunk imbrac'd them. But sure he griev'd, when th' action had defac'd them. But of godlie sorrow. But our grosse Drunkards, base pedestriat natures 1 Will roare and quaffe, old houses, through strait windowes ; Blaspheme their Maker, and abuse his Creatures, And swear, the/le spend their bloud, and carve their sinnewes, To beard cold Phebe; then Orlando like, Eapt Bodomunting oathes, and Oyckyps strike. Whose red-e/d sight, show faces fixt with Comets, The shame- Through which (like Vulcan) they would seeme goodfellowes ^"iiefifeots here he staggers ! and there he wallowing vomits, kennesse. And if mischiefe fall out, he courts the gallowes : Last, friends and meanes been lost, he's load with curses. Then bends his course to steale, or robbe mens purses. What ill can Hell devise ? but Drunkards do it ? All kindes of vice, all kinde of lusts they swallow : For why ? its drunkenhesse that spurres them to it, Satan suggests, and they his counsell follow : Then turne they frantick, mad distracted Sots, To clout their Conscience, with retorting Pots. They lye and surfet, belch, and vomit blood. Tea, ever rammage, brutish, and absurd ; Their beastly manners, loathsome are and rude, DepraVd of senses, have their wits immurd, Benumb'd, debosh'd ; last sunke in beggars brats, Eate up with vermine, starve, and die like Eats. Worlds of examples, I could here denote, As well in ancient dayes, as moderne times : What were these Pagans past ? what were they not ? What are our present judgements ? for like crymes ? May not their Alcoran, serve to condemne us ? If we our selves, would from our selves exam'ne us. G May The gushing Teares Beasts and May not PMlosophers ? the light of nature ? Phiioso- Convince us, for like riot, and excesse ? puers con- denme ex- Nay, even the beast (unreasonable creature) cesse. Stand up and witnesse, of our sensualnesse : They will not once exceed their appetite, But man will surfet, with a deep delite. In using, we abuse, Grods benefits, And turne his blessings, to an heavie curse ; Surpassing temprance, we confound our wits, No health for body, lesse for soule remorse : All things were made for us, and we for God, But being abus'd, they serve us for his rod. 4,las ! where reason ? when poore man misknowes The life of knowledge, reason did infuse ; Shall understanding sleep ? shall I suppose That will is weaker, than a strong excuse : He knowes (I know) enough that can misknow The thing he knowes, its well, in knowing so. No perfe- WeU said AlphOnso, (knowledge to expone) h^a^ That all what we could learne, by sight, or show ; knowledge. By airts, by science, by books to study on, Was the least part, of that we did not know : All what we know, we know but in a part, And that failes oft, corruption rules the heart. What thou canst know, another doth know more, And what he knowes, is but a glimpsing glance : Who perfect is ? nay none ; who can deplore His weaknesse, ruld by counseU, not by chance ! Mans knowledge, like the shade, is swallowed soone, That hangs between its substance, and the Moone. He of godlie sorrow. He knowes the ill, and in that knowledge rude, And cleaves to vice, as wooll and briers are knit ; Eesolv'd to erre, misknowitig what is good, Kejects his soule ; then in a frantick fit. Neglecting God, neglects his owne salvation. And quaffing excesse, drinks his own damnation. How Lord ! these faults behelpd ! teach me to mourne. That being humbled, I may call for grace : Let men presumptuous, 'gainst thy judgements spurne. And in the pudle of their labours trace : Save thou my soule, for now my quivering heart, 'Twixt feare and hope, stands trembling at sinnes smart. A second Jonah, from thy voice I flee, Great de- ' ■' ' fects in And with shrunke Peter I thy name deny : greatest I ATiab-]ikei, keep spoiles of sinne for me. And harbour lust, in Lots ebrietie : These lookes, that fell, from 8ion on a Pond, Were not so foule as mine, nor halfe so fond. Unworthy I, to lift mine eyes above. Or that the earth, should beare me, undevour'd : Nay, nor my friends, on me to cast their love, Nor saints pray for me, hath the truth deflourd : Yet, what God will, it needs must come to passe, He looks on what I am, not what I was. Let grace take roome, that mercy soone may follow, Eenew my sprite, cleanse my heart from iU ! Thy blood can purge me, though my guilt be hollow ; Faith and repentance, have a piercing will : Infuse thy power, Lord strengthen me to turne Once to rejoyce, and never more to mourne. G2 As The gushing Teares BameU As Daniel, with thy servants three forsooke poore To feed on Babels delicates, and wine : ^na p en- -g^^ water, and poore pulse, they gladly tooke, And yet their faces, did for beauty shine : Lord grant with them, all worldly snares I may Forsake, and learne, to trace thy law, thy way. That kingly beast, or beastly king expos'd Seven yeares to fields ; nev'r faild so much as I : Nor these five kings, by Joshua enclos'd. Brought forth, and foot-neckd, shamefully did die : Ne/r vex'd him more (for they their lands defended) Than I am griev'd, for having God offended. That Goshan flight, to a desartuous soUe, Through uncouth way, deep seas, laid up in heaps ! Nev'r reft from Egypt, such a swallowed spoile. With greater right (for now my soule it weeps) Then Gods just judgements, might on me befall, Unlesse his mercy soone prevent my fall. These wandrings long, which Israel did recoyle. Tost to and fro, in vast Arabian bounds ; Full fourty yeares they spent, for twelve dayes toyle, Starv'd, slaiae, and queU'd, stiU gaUd by savage wounds : This crosse they bore, for grieving God so oft. But (ah !) my sinnes, for plagues do cry aloft. are better then bad cbristiane. Now having seene, rude Lyhians, nak'd, and bare, Sterne barbrous Arabs, savage Sabuncks od ; Sword-sweying Turkes, and faithlesse Jews alwhere, Base ruvid Berdoans, godlesse of a God : Yet when from me, on them I cast mine eye, My life I finde, farre worse, then theirs can be. The of godlie sorrow. The rustick Moorish, steme promiscuous sexe, Nor Garolines, idolatrizing shame ; The Turcomans, that even the Divell doe vexe ! In offring up, their first-borne, to his name : Nor Jamnites, with their foolish Garlick god, Are worse then I, nor more deserve thy rod. Yet Lord ! with Thee, there's mercy ; and its true, Thou art not wonne, with multitude of words. Its force of tears from us, thy pitie sue. Which thou regards, and pardon us afords : For words are formed, by' the tongue, but tears, Speak from the heart, which thou most kindlie heares. Use then few words (0 silly soule) but weepe. This is the heavenly language, and strong voice, That calls to God ; for he our teares shall keep Fast bottled in his pittie : Makes the choise Of teares ; few words, let sighs, and sobs display, Thine inward grief; then tears beginne to pray. In prayer use few words and many tears. Lord 1 thou wouldst not, to Herod speak, nor yet Would answer Pilat, urgd by humane power ; But soone thou spoke, when weeping women set Their eyes on Thee ; and streames of teares did powre : These Judges sought, advantage for thy dittie. But Sions daughters, weept for Thee in pittie. These great mens words, did reafeh but to thine eares, But their warme drops, did pierce Thee to thine heart ; Lord ! thou takes care on them, and on their teares. Who mourne for others, when the righteous smart : But farre more pittie, on the sinfuU soule. That mournes for sinne, and wailes her errours foule. G 3 Christs si- lence, and patience. Oh! The gushing Teares Oh ! that my head were waters ! and mine eyes 1 A source of teares, to weep both day and night ; The peoples sinnes, with theirs, mine owne disease, Which greater growes, than I beare have might : Such flouds of teares, would then my grief disclose ! In airie vapours, flanck'd with watrie woes. This worlds a valley, of perpetuaU teares, And what's the Scripture ? but a springing well Of gushing teares ? flow'd from remorse and feares ; For godly sorrow, must with Mourners dwell : And who can mourne, unlesse that grace begin To worke repentance ; this grief expiats sin. teares wet AH night could David, wet with tears his couch, his'couch" And Prophets for the faults, of Israel mourne : But (ah !) good G-od, when shall mine eyes avouch Such happy teares, that may with Thee sojourne : If not thy judgements, yet thy gracious love, Might melt mine eyes, and Ponds of sorrow move. Thoii saidst, I will, compassion have on all. That pleaseth me, compassion, for to show ; Be pleas'd thy love, may me redeeme from thrall, Free will to pardon, thine ; the debt I owe : How soone soeVr a sinner, should repent him, Thou swore in truth, thou wouldst no longer shent him. Lord ! grant my minde, may second these my words, And not invent, more than I practice can ; If I deficient prove, good will afords My sacrifice ; obedience is the man : Did not Abraham, this point paternize. Whose purpose, was, held for a sacrifice. David of godlie sorrow. David resolv'd, on Sions lower flat, ^0 build a Temple, for theUving Lord : A daughter cloure, joynd with Jehasophat, Benorthd, with Moriahs, squink devalling bord : The Lord accept'd the minde, his thought was to it, And said, Thy sonne, but not thy seMe shall do it. The widows myte, was thankfully receiv'd, Good wills a sacrifice ; this seldome faUes ; The will, although the purpose be deceiv'd, Is not to blame, the good intent prevaUes : God ac- The Lord accepts, even of the least desire ^^io^" We have to serve him, though we faint or tire. tiie deed. When Jacob had, twice ten yeares Laban serv'd. Yet Laban, would have sent him empty gone : But he who serves the Lord, though he hath swerv'd. Shall not misse his reward, nor go alone : The sprite of grace, shall second him, and love. Shall fin his soule, his faith shall mount above. Then forward go, so runne you may obtaine, Great is the prise, hold out the journeys end ; Keep course, and runne, thoule get a glorious gaine, He who endures, shall onely there ascend : Kise eare, when young, and runne, betimes then do it. Who gets the start, and holds, shall first come to it. The journeys long, the path is straight, and thornes Ly in the way, to prick thee, on both sides : Sinne like a Traitour, hourely thee subbornes, To misse the marke, and blinde thee, with crosse guides : Yet constant runne, runne on, and be not sory, So rune thou mayst obtaine, a crowne of glory. We The gushing Teares We see, for a light prise, a man will runne His utmost speed ; and often loose his paines ; That Caledonian hunter, never wonne By strife of foote, a hare was all his gaines : But he who runs this course, shall earne a treasure, The hutte of Heaven, must be his marke and measure. Then blest is he 1 keeps dyet, for this race ! oOTPhysi- -^^^ ^*^ ^^ soule, to take ccelestiaU physick ; ' cian. Faith is the compound, and the potion grace, Christ the Physician, mercy our soules musick : Then pardon seeks our suite, last, love crownes all. And raignes with glory, rivaUs in one saule. For this prepare thy selfe, since our short dayes Are but a blast ; and yet our longest time Is scarce a thought ; Looke ! what experience sayes, That space, 'twixt wombe and Tombe, (0 falling slyme !) Is but a point, then see ! and not suspend, A happy life, must have an happy end. Our day of death, excells our day of birth. And better wer't, with mourning folks to live, Than Hke to fooles, that in the house of mirth Would passe their time, and would that time survive : Relenting cryes, aU times more needfull growes. Than laughing feasts : blest are aU godly woes. The inso- How vaine are frolick youths ? to spend their prime ? ^^""a "* ^ wantonnesse and slouth, lust galling joyes : They quite forget, the substance of base sUme, TiU rotten age, ramverse their masked toyes : And then diseases, hang about their bones, To plague their flesh with sores, their hearts with groanes. The of godlie sorrow. The concupiscence, of youths sqink-laid eye, Which lust begets, and inflamation brangles, Is but the bait, invelops luxurie, To follow practice, custome stiU entangles : The eye supports the thought, the thought desire. And then corruption, sets delight on fire. Yet youth remember, in thy dayes of youth ! Thy sole Creator, remember thou must die t Lest that these dayes may come, when helplesse ruth, Shall say, No pleasure in them, thou canst see : Remember ! in thy youth ! O youth remember ! Thy Christ and Maker, thou maist be his member. Shall youth take pleasure, in vaine wantonnesse. And with his fleshly lusts, go serve the Divell : Then when growne old, in midst of rottennesse. Would turne to God, and shunne his former evill : This cannot be, when thou canst sinne no more. Thou wouldst serve God, whom thou didst hate before. •Dare thou example take, of the good thief, Nay, Christ was once, for all but sacrifiz'd : Delay in This can not ground thy faith, nor lend relief, L^daM*^"* That one Thiefs mercy, thine is paterniz'd : rous. Can thou repent at wiU, choose time, and place, Nay, that falls short, its God who gives the grace. Is any sure, when death shall call him hence, Nothing more certaine, more uncertaine too ; Time, place, and how, concernes Gods providence : Then arme thy selfe, take heed, what thou shouldst do ? Bridle thy youth, amend thy life, repent, Such fruit is pleasant, from thy spring-tyde sent. H The The gushing Teares The morne is cooler, than the sun-scorch'd day, The tender juice, more sweeter then old sap : The flowry grasse, more fresh than withred hay ? The floorish fairer, than the Tronke, we trap : So dayes of youth, more sav'rie are to God, Than crooked age, all crooked wayes have trode. Would thou live well, and live to live for aye, Beginne at God, obey his word, and law : Love, feare, and serve him, make him all thy stay. Honour thy Parents, of the Judge stand awe : And neighbour love conserve : But ah ! this age ! Can show none such, but rot with lust and rage. L«QV. The sin-flowne Dolphin, after flying fish, Nev'r swim'd so swift, as youth hunt after lust ; They dip presumption in a poysond dish, And fearlesse tumble, in a fearfull gust : They wrestle not to wrest, but strives with strife To humour pleasures, in their head-strong life. Its incident to youth, to mock old age. Youth and And usuall too for age, to jeere at youth : feeing.'* The One he dotes, the other playes the page, A fondling foxd, with wantonnesse and slouth : Yet age is best, because experience schooles him. And youth is worst, 'cause vice and pleasure fooles him. Then 'twixt them both, the golden meane is best, Neither too young, nor doting dayes are good : Yet happy both, if faithfully they rest With confidence, fixt on their Saviours bloud : For it can purge the old, of what is past. And cleanse the young, post after sinne so fast. Both of godlie sorrow. Both TimotMe and Titiis, others moe, Of rarest worth, though young, their youth-head chaind In cords of temperance ; made vertue grow In fortitude ; by which they glory gaind : Nay ; Alexander, in the prime of youth, Was wondrous chast, till strangers taught him slouth. The Persian manners spoild him : But behold ! Continen- What good Aurelius said, the Bomane King ? "'^ ^y^^- ° ' ° gans com- If I were sure, that lust were not controld, mended. Nor punishd by the gods, above which ring : Yet for the fact it selfe, I will disprove it, 'Cause why ? its filthy, base, and who can love it. Would God ! that younglings, and the fry of nature, Could so resolve, and play the Pagans part ; Yea, old and young, and ev'ry humane Creature ! In this were blest, to take these words to heart : Then modestie should live, Eeligion flourish. And good example, one, another nourish. A noble youth, been askd, whether he went ? Reply'd ; he to the house of teares did go ; To mourne with Mourners, that he might lament, And learne to weep, when he did older groe : If hethnicks can show Christians such instruction. Oiu: blind-set eyes, had need of their conduction. Who sowe in teares, shall surely reape in joy, For godly griefe, shall blessednesse inherit : They who thus mourne, and thus their soules imploy. Are firmely shelterd, under Jesus merit : Who shall transchange, their griefe, in glorious gladnesse, True happinesse expells, all sorrowing sadnesse. H 2 Blest The gushing Teares A brief Blest were these teares, were spent, neare Cajaphs house ! vtte °* ^^ Peter griev'd, for imbecilitie, pentance. Brought downe so low he was, nought could arrouze His hope, for pardon, of infirmitie : Yard-closde alone, he weept, and wofull hee, With dolefuU cryes, thus spoke, on flexed knee. Have I (would he have said) deny'd my Lord, With triple oathes, before the Cocke crew twice : Which he foretold ; ah ! feare my faith had smord ! His looks accusd me, I had done it thrice : Was it not I, who vowd with him to die. And now forsworne, I from my Master flee. Was I not Cephas, lately thought a Rock ? And now the tongue, of a base serving maide, Hath made me shrinke, and turne a stumbling block ; We were but twelve, and one hath him betraide ; And I (as worst) have sworne, I knew him not, Mov'd by the voice, of a weake womans throat. ! that a Drudge ! should thus prevaile 'gainst me, Who serves for wage, to him the Altar serv'd : A slendrer weed, could no poore Hireling be, And yet o're me shee triumphs ; ' I have swerv'd : This was Gods will, and now its come to passe, To show my weaknesse, with a weaker lasse. Its strange ! two Drudges made me falter thrice. With quivring oathes, and shivring words deny The Lord of life : How could such hounds surprise My stedfast love ? and not with him to die : No Judge controU'd me, yet two slavish snakes, Fill'd me with feare, with it, my Lord forsakes. How of godlie sorrow. How fraile was I and fragile, to succumbe ? Mine hopes, unto such Wranglers void of grace ; I might have silence kept, and so sit dumbe, Peiers TiU Gajaphas had tryde me, having place : confeBsion. But I a Weakling, to a stragling sound, Forsooke my vow, and did my selfe confound. A silly fisher wretch, (no lesse he thought) Was I, when God, from slaverie did me call ; And now to shrunke infirmitie am brought, Worse then Judaick law, from Christ to faU : Who me select'd, to leave my nets, and when. He said. Thou shal'st, a fisher be of men. How shall I answer make ? what shall I doe ? His sighs, thus sobd, for groanes, and melting eyes, Were all his words : Or whats my kindred too ? So base neare Sydon borne ? that my degrees By birth were nought, but fisher men and fooles, The scumme of Nature, Hv'd by warbling tooles. Was I a chosen Vessel, thus to shrinke, When erst in Gethsemane, my sword I drew : And now beginnes, to flatter, lye, and winke. Yea ; failes and falls, with words, and oathes untrue : I might have with, my fellow flyers fled, But I would follow, and forsake my Head. Love bade me venter, feare bade me stay back, Faith forcelesse fled, a farre I followed on him ; Poore fainting I, though forward now falls slack, I went to see, what doome, they gave upon him : Where courting Cajaphs fire (0 snaring sinne !) Warming without, too cold I grew within. H 3 I might The gushing Teares I might have fled, to hide me in some cave, But curious I, would swallow shame and feare : Could I sustaine his crosse, his death and grave ? To suffer that, which nature could not heare : All helpfull he ! would he crave help unto it, Nay, fond was I, to thinke that man could do it. Alone would he ! ! all sufficient he ! Straight undergoe, his fathers hote displeasure : Both Grod and Man, our Lord hehovd to be, So weighty was that wrath, laid up in treasure For sinfuU man ; but he all-conquering he ! Triumph'd o're Hell, got us the victorie. Peters re- ^7 Lord, but spoke, Whom seek ye ? (0 strong power !) prehend- And backwards fell, the Sergeants on the ground ; ' He knew, confess'd, it was their time, his houre, For so his love, to mankinde did abound : That as by Man, all flesh, accursd, should dye, Even so by man, all should redeemed bee. Was I not witnes, to his word, and deed ? His miracles and mercies, workes of loue ; The Dumbe did speake, the Deaf did heare, the dead, Hee raysd to lyfe ; the Criples straight did moue ; The Palseyes, Paraliticks, withred hands, Hee helpd, and heald ; the blynd their sight commands. Was hee not Christ, the Lambe, the sonne of Grod ! Whom I confessd, even face to face afore ; My soules Messias ! who bore that heavy bade Of Indignation ; sinners to restore : Both sacrifice, and Sacrificer plight ! A wondrous mercy, set before my sight. For of godlie sorrow. For which ; vile worme, how could my lips deny ? The Lord of glore, my life, my love, my light ; Was he not there ? and was not I hard by ? When that his looke, gave me this sorrowing night : Yet when my soules sharp eyne, saw what was done, My carnall eyes, in floods of teares did runne. Faith wrought repentance, grace laid hold on grace, Peters My bitter streames, like brine, extreamly gush'd : ^^^^ ''°'^' •' ' ) J o Bummated I wrung my hands, and knock'd my breast apace, in peace. Whilst sighes, sad sobs, from deep-fetchd groanings rushd : Then joy appeard, my conscience was assurd. The fault was pardond, and my soule securd. Thus Feter shrunke, his soule was humbled low, (Not like to Popes, who his succession claime) He sorrowing fell, and made contrition show That he had faild : So did himself disclaime From first election, and from former grace. And causd remorse, give sad repentance place. Then teares, bitter teares ! relenting woes ! And airie vapours, from salt-raining eyes ; Made windy sighes, and trembling groanes disclose His lip-lost faU, the cause of his unease, Thus teares are blest, which godly sorrow brings, Each drop doth serve thy soule, to heaven for wings. Though tears distiU, and trickle downe thy cheeks, So vanish quite, and seeme to thee as lost : Their aire ascends, thy heart to God then speaks ! The Wes- He harbours all, and is a gracious host : ^i gojiy The Font he loves, and thats remorse for sinne, tears. Which his grace works, before thou canst beginne. Lord! The gushing Teares Lord ! frame my will to thine, and forme my heart, To serve and feare thee, magnifie thy name ; In this obedience, thou mayst grace impart, For from thy favour, I must comfort claime ; Grant me thine inward peace, refresh my minde, With sparkes of love, let sighs thy mercy finde. All Mortals are, by nature miserable. Then mourning is the habit, we should weare ; Who sinne deplores, his case is comfortable. Yet none can shunne, prest natures sorrowing feare : Flee where thou wilt, thou shalt not finde reliefe. Though thou changst place, thou canst not change thy grief. Mortaiitie This life is but a Font, of springing teares, able. Weeping wee come, into this world, with cryes ; And veeping we go out, fraught full of feares. There's nought but sorrow, in our journey lyes : For whilst within, this vaile of teares we bide. We're load with mourning, griefe is Natures guide. Jacob been asfd, by PJiaro of his age, Keply'd, that few, and evill, were the dayes Of his abode, in fleshly pilgrimage : He gave this life, no better stile nor praise : Then sure we're strangers, wandring here and there. On this worlds stage, each acting lesse or mair. Nay, we are pilgrimes here, tost to and fro, piJgAne There's no place permanent, on earth below : here. Qur dwelling is above, then let us goe To th' heavenly Canaan, where all joyes flow : Jerusalem, Jerusalems above, A glorious staunce, where sits the King of love. • Its of godlie sorrow. Its not Judeas citie, built witli hands, The holy grave, and Calvarie containes ; With Moriah, where SaVmons Temple stands, Nor Sions seat, where Davids Towre remaines, Nor Pilats Hall, with farre moe relicks rare, This City is eternall, great, and faire. Nor is it compass'd, with Jehosophat, And on the south, with strait Gehmnons valley ; Nor on the north, with Ennons den halfe flat. Nor wall'd about, lest Arabs it assaillie : This Citie is, impregnable, and more, Its fenc'd about, with everlasting power. Indeed like Olivet, it overtops This squink Eehraick citie ; and exceUs Our hea- AU earthly Mansions, which destruction lops ^enly Je- With fatall ruine : what sounding knells ? Fall from this fabrick, Angels singing musick ! To lure our soules, to take coelestiall physick. Then come stress'd thou, who loaden is and weary, And here refresh, thy fatigating soule : Make haste, and come ; and now no longer tarry ! Lest others barre Thee, from Bethesdaes Poole ; When grace would touch thy sprite, thy heart is troubled But be not slow, lest losse on losse be doubled. Consider Lord ! these times wherein we live ! And barken to, thy chosen deare Elect ; Let Israel joy, and thine enemies grieve, No time good Grod, their sacrifice neglect ; But heare, and help them, guard them round about. With heavenly hosts, and thine Angelick rout. I Looke The gushing Teares Sions tears. Looke downe on thy stress'd Sion, and her teares, And bottle up her Woes, within the Urne Of thy remembrance : Grrievous grow her feares ! By Wolves in Lambskins, topsolturvie turne : Moat fearfuU seeme, these whirlewindes of time : Bred from the base, seditious dregs of slime. Such wound her sides, but can not dimme her light, The blood of Saints, is her espousall seed ; When darkest stormes, would theat to bring downe night. Thy spouse triumphs, in Christ her soveraigne head : No winde so high, nor wave so great, but grace, Can calme sterne blasts, when thou seest time and place. When Man is snard by sinne, and seemes as lost. Then G-od drawes neare, and makes his Sprite prepare The soule for grace: So when forlorne or crost, Christs Church appeares, that even her Saints despaire : Then comfort comes, the Lord wiU not exile her, Nor let the spight and craft, of men defile her. Sions ^'^'"^ ^^® *^® S°-^*^ ^^ ^^^> ^^'^ christall cleare, beauty. White as the snow, and sweeter than the hony ; ' Thy virgine Spouse, most neare to Thee and deare ! Is farre more precious, than ten Worlds of money : The silver-fomace tryde, is not so fine, Nor halfe so sweet, tasts Bethimosean wine. Sions Itord ! looke upon her crosses, and relieve crosses. Her troubled Saints for Thee, and for thy Sonne y She springs through briers, and 'mongst sharpe thorns doth live Like to the Rose, in midst of thistles wonne : Her bloudy foes confound, protect her Saints, Erect, maintaine their zeale ; Lord heare their plaints. Faire of godlie sorrow. Faire is thy sister, sweet thy Spousall love, Her sent is bundled Myrrhe, fixt on her breasts : She's thiae cled with thy power, thine harmelesse Dove ! For in the Garden, of thy grace, she feasts : Come clasp her in thine armes ! come gracious Lord ! And shew thy Virgin Queene, misericord. Eed shines the blush of Sions fragrant flowres, Greene spring her boughs, like Liban Cedars tall ; Swift flee her wings, to court her Paramours, Knowne to her friends, but never knowne to all : Whose purple Eoabes are pure, and finer farre; Then Tyrians wore, ere they were sackt by warre. Like the Apple, in midst of Forrest trees. Thy Welbeloveds soj 'mongst sonnes of Men : The fairest 'mongst Women, with radiant eyes, Would succour have, to save her from the Den Of darknesse black : Lift up thy face and see ! The spices, and ripe fruit of her fig-tree. Whose breasts are like two twinnes, 'mongst Lillies fed. Her rosie cheeks, more brighter than the Sunne : One marke she beares, that in the soule is bred, Another badge, lasts till our glasse be runne : The thirds a sparke, that mounts to Heaven above, The Ught of Saints, the love of endlesse Love. Her richest garment, truth and righteousnesse, And thats broudred, with mercy, grace, and peace ; Faithfull in all, and patient in distresse ; Constant to stand ; unchangeable of pace : And yet her beauty. Heavens no fairer fixe, Than mens tradition, would the same ecclipse. 12 She's The gushing Teares She's CathoHck now, not t/d to a place, As Jewrie land, where God was onely knowne ; Christs Church, points forth the Universe ; for grace, Came with th'Bvangel, peace to Pagans showne : The Gentiles then were call'd, as well as Jews, For mercy came with Jesus ; Gospell news. And yet there many darknesse love, than light, For sinne craves silence, and umbragious places ; siufuU The clouds their covert, and their friend the night, dSn^dark- ^^^ ^^Y ^^'^^ ^"'^' *^^^'' Darhng obscurc faces : Thus blinde inveigling vice, turnes darknesse darke, For jet-black sin, can dim their foggy warke. Too many darknesse love, so sinne provides, That bhnded eyes, must follow blinde tradition : Bhnde are they bred, but blinder far their guides, Who maske poore Ignorants, with superstition : Whose Church maintaines, false miracles and treason, Blood, murther, incest, powder plots, and poyson. Besides this Church idolatrous, and drunk With indulgence and pardons. Policies, At Limbus forgd : Absurd for gaine ; and sunk In Purgatories, avarice, and lyes : There other orient Churches, erre, and fall. From Gospell truth ; they know it not at all. The Mthiopian, Abbasins, the Moore, Egyptian Copties ; Chelfanes, Georgians, Greeks, Nostrans, Syriacks, Jacobines, what more ? Grosse Armenians, th' Amaronite, that seeks Talp-drawne ignorance : all of which do swerve, Tradition is the mistresse, whom they serve. I could of godlie sorrow. I could dive here, in their distract'd conceit, And bHnde surmises, sowne these parts abroad : But I suspend ; yet here's a dangerous state, To cast opinions, on the face of God : Their Patriarchs like themselves, do play the foole, That wiU not square Religion, with Christs rule. O ! if I could with Jeremie lament 1 The worlds great errours, and my fallings too : And with grievd Ninivie, in time repent ! Lest with my sUppings, justice me undo : Thrice happy were I, in this resolution, Ere death enhaunce my life, bring dissolution. Yet soule despaire not, God is mercifuU, Long suffring, patient, full of kinde compassion : His love to Man, is passing plentifull. Whose grace and mercy, flow on our confession : For if one teare for sinne, fall from our eyes, He's pleas'd to pardon our infirmities. How gracious then is God ? how rich I say ? Is Christs redemption, fraught with saving bloud : If we have faith in him, if we can {)ray ? And lift our eyes, fixt on the holy Eude : And then to suffer, in our zeale those pangs, Our Saviour thold, in this our welfare hangs. My merit is thy mercy, that's the end ! Although good works, they are the way to heaven : Yet not the cause, why I may there ascend, That in thy love remaines, makes mine oddes eaven : For if thou hadst not dyed ? what had I beene ? And if not risen ? what had my soule seen ? I 3 Thou Plenty of mercy. Hie gushing Teares Thou wilt not gracioas God, break the bruisde reed, Nor quench the smoaking flaxe ; for said thou hast, That if our sinnes, were d/d in scarlet red ! Thoule make them white as snow, to let us taste Of grace and gladnesse : 'Cause the broken heart Thou'le not reject ; contrition would concert. Lord ! thou ordaind, that death no flpsh should shunne, Cause why ? it was, the doome and curse of sinne ; And so the punishment, of thy deare Sonne, Which for our sakes, thy judgements cast him in : That as the Divell, prevailed by a Tree, So by a Tree, his power should vanquish'd be. Then let the sight, of thy transgressions rude, Draw drops of teares, from thine inunding eyes ; Since they did draw, so many drops of bloud From thy Redeemers wounds ; thy soule to ease : And looke what David said, in faith and feare, His sinnes were heavier, then his back could beare. Then great was that sad burden Jesus bore, In soule and body, to extirpe this curse ; His Father's wrath ; our punishment therefore ; Christs Our endlesse doome ; eternall his secourse : His agonies, our happinesse implord, tion. ' His bloody sweet, our detriments restord. As in a garden, first our sinne began. So in a Garden, our redemption sprung : That in like place, where Adam, the first Man Was by the Serpents craft, exactly stung : So, so, in Gethsemaine, the Lord of light, Triumph'd o're sinne, put Satan to the flight. Then of godlie sorrow. Then Christ is that pure glasse, wherein we spie Our wants, our faults, or what amisse is done ; Within, instruction, without, examples lye, Here death proclaimd, and there salvation : The lists are set, then how can we come in, But by repentance, sorrowing for sin. How precious were these tears of Magdalen f Who washt Christs feet, with eye-repenting drops ; MagdaUm Tea, with her haire, did dry these feet agen, ieaies. And kiss'd them, with her lip-bepearled chops : Last, did anoint them, with a costly oyle. For which the Traitour Judas, checkd such spoile. Thrice sacred worke ! but more blest oyle and teares, Spent in the presence, of her soules Kedeemer, To expiat sinne : Whom now the dead endeares To be a Saint ; for so did Christ esteeme her : And for which love, its memorie should last, From age to age, tiU all ages be past. Besides her owne salvation, she became, A dayly follower, to her Lord and Master ; Yea, ministred things needfuU ; fed zeales flame With heavenly food, whereof she was a taster : Nay, to his death and grave, she never left him, And witnesse bore, how thence his Godhead reft him. Came ^not kinde Mary ? weeping to his grave ? To looke for Christ, but could not finde him there ; The AngeU spoke, and ask'd, Whom would you have ? Said she, To see my Lord, is all my care, But he's not here ! (alas !) he's stolne away ! And where he's laid, I know not, nor what way. The The gushing Teares The winding-sheet she found, clos'd at both ends, And close by the Tombe side, she sate her doTVTie : She sought, she felt, she search'd, and still suspends, He was, and was not there : back to the towne She bends her face, yet staid, and cr/d, and wept. My Lord is stolne, whom souldiers watch'd, and kept. The heavie stone roll'd back, which fourty men. Could scarce advance ; yet where's my loving Lord ? lie runne and tell, let the Apostles ken ! What villanies this night, the Jews afford : Yet gone, she soone turnd back, love masterd heart, For from the Sepulchre, she would not part. Nor did darke midnight fright her, nor the sight Of two bright Angels, set at either end Of his interrement ; nor their words afright Her mourning zeale ; whose scope did deeper tend, To seeke the Lord, who gave her light and grace, And tUl she found him, would not leave the place. At last Christ, in, a humane shape appeared. Whom she mistooke, and for a Gardner deemd : Christ re- Said he. Why wepst thou ? whom seekst thou ? she feard, veals him- Said, TcD me, if, thou stole him, us redeemd: self to ' ' ' ' Mary Then Jesus nam'd Mary ; she turnes about, Magd^ilm. ^^^ ^^y^ Eabboni, with a joyfull shout. This lessons us, that when we fast or pray. We should not faint, but hope our suite shall speed ; He'le come, and come in time, though he delay. Our suite he'le grant, thou we mistake the deed : Then Mary-like, let faith, charge hope, and do it, Faile not, be instant, grace shall bring thee to it. Christ, o/ ffodlie sorrow. Christ, from the worldly wise and great, kept back These mysteries, which silly ones did see : And why ? his will, did this poore woman take, To witnesse that he rose, and rose on hie : That by his resurrection, we Inight rise, To cut the clouds, and rent the azure skies. As mines of gold and silver, still are found On barren Hills, and scurrile fruitlesse parts : So faith, so feare, so zeale, Eeligion sound ! Are chiefly plac'd, and fixt, in poore mens hearts : Did not Christs wisedome, this foresee, and choosd The scummes of Nature, whom the world refusd. Lord ! grant with Magdalen, I spend my teares ! With sighing sadnesse, to implore thy pittie ; That when my conscience, shall be void of feares, I then may know, thou hast destroy'd my dittie : Speake peace, I pray thee, to this soule of mine, Since what I have, is aU, and onely thine. As fire reserves, two properties well mixt. Fire hath The one to warme, the other light to shoe : ^^°^°- So mercy hath two branches, better fixt. Love to give peace, and pardon to forgoe : For pittie rules the helme, and Mans distresse Craves calme, in midst, of stormie wickednesse. Like so, are troubles, th' whetstone that doth square Stress'd hearts with prayer ; humble them most low : Why ? cause adversities, they still prepare The soule with patience, to sustaine the blow : All crosses to the just, their well intend. The cause being Christs, their suffrings in him end. K Thou The gushing Teares Thou Joy of joyes, sweeter faxre than sweetnesse, Thy mercy is that balme, which heales my sores : Thou peace, and pittie, oynt my wounds with wetnesse, No drouth of sinne, can chink, my weeping gores : Why ? cause each sinne, begets a source of teares, When sinne evapourats, then grace appeares. Then pardon, fraught with pittie, stops the Font, Let sorrow melt the soule, in anxious sadnesse : Deep sobs, and windy sighes, above they mount ! Whence they returne, surchargd with godly gladnesse : Ho sinne so sterne, but mercy can suppresse it, If with repenting grief, we but confesse it. Lord save me from presumptuous sinnes, and save My soule from sinnes desert ; mercy is thine ! All my transgressions, kinde remission crave. They lye before thee (though the fault is mine) Begging for pardon, pardon they implore. And in my frailnesse, guiltinesse deplore. A wounded conscience, who can beare that load ? O racking sting ! that galles the quivring soule : All sweet chastisements, of thy gentle rod. Are cleansers, for, to purge our errours foule : But this mad grief, contracts a gnawing worme. Tempestuous whirlewindes, of an endlesse storme. Ther'si What quick evasion ? shall my flight contrive ? froin^mla To hide me from thy face, what way ? or where ? presence. Jf in the depths I drcuch, lo ! thou canst dive : If to the utmost coasts ? lo ! thou art there ! What umbrage. Cell, or Cave, the world about, Can men ascond, but thou ^vilt finde me out. Above of godlie sorrow. Above, else deep beneath, or here below, Thy presence is : Then whither shall I flee ? There is no point, but that point thou dost know, Though smaller, than, the smallest haire can bee : No rocks, nor hills, nor darknesse can me night, Nor blacknesse vaile, from thy all-seeing sight. Then in a word,^ there's n!o refuge for me, But flye to thee, whose sight I can not shunne : To beg for peace, and grace to mortifie My sinful! lusts ; before my glasse be runne : Lord ! let mine eyes distill, like melting sleet ! Or ilfaWe-like, who washd with teares thy feet. It is the minde, and not the Masse thou seeks, God My sprit is thine, and longs to be refinde : ^^^^ By it thou knowst, my secreet wayes and creeks. Whether I be, to good or iU inclinde : My soule's the Euther, of my journey here, Be thou my Pilot, safely loofe, and steere. Conduct me straight, to thy Coelestiall Port, That in the Sabboth, of eternall rest, My soule may reigne : And with the Angels court Thy face, with joyes, that cannot be exprest : Where all content, in fulnesse of rich pleasures, Shall them attend, in overjoyipg measures. Who here within, this Domicile of dust ? And boggy baggage, of a stinking lump ? Would stay to eat, the excrements of lust. And feed on filthinesse, that rotten stump : Nay, none but Abjects ; holy Ones rejoyce, To be dissolvd, make happynesse their choice. K 2 But The gushing Teares But some heart-sunke, in worldly greed and cares, Would build their Paradise, in this base life : And by extreames, involve them selves in snares. Hating the truth, in falshood spend their strife : And what envy, can not accomplish ? they WiU make extortion, all their hatred swey. Can thou forgivenesse crave, for thy misdeeds ? And will not first, forgive anothers wrongs : How can thou pray, or thiiike thy prayer speeds ? When in thy heart, thou malice keeps ; and longs To be revengde : This is no Christian life, To pray and praise, when sunke in spite and strife. Away with envy, malice, pride- and hate. Let not the Sunne go downe, upon thy wrath : Live to the Lord, and live in holy state. Love one another, there's the marke of faith ! Live, and live holy, whom thou serves regard ! He'le come, and come in haste, with thy reward. Then be not Spider-like, that doth exhaust breeds en- ^^ SQ^Q, in workes, of little use, and time : vie. Nor like the Indians rude, absurd, devast, That win give gold, for glasse, rich gemmes for slime : And precious stones, for toyes, and trifling things, Which strangers bring; knives, whistles, beeds, brasse rings. All smell of greed, though not of perfect wit, Then hang not downe thy head, for lack of trash : Let Crcesus be, thy Lydicm Mappe 1 he'le fit Thy greedy humours, with a falling dash : All which are shades, of floating vanities, Mans onely constant, in unconstancies. ShaU of godlie sorrow. Shall rich Saturnia, with her cramming gold ? a con- DeceiVe my heart, and move my minde to swell : riches. "^ Or with false lookes, vaine hopes to me unfold ? To snare my thoughts, which vertue may expell : A figge for worldly baits ; a tush for greed I For being poore, Ime rich in having need. And why ? cause povertie, that is so, light, As being weigh'd, in baUance with the winde, Doth hang aloft : Then can not seeme no weight ! Nor dare to sit, as sad, on my free minde : Say, if it should, it were some fainting thought Would me deject ; for povertie is nought. Then all my riches, is content I see, A stock more sure, than Wealth can Worldlings lend : Poore was I borne, and as poore must I die, Unlesse good luck, a chest, to death extend : Get I a sheet, to wrappe up my dead bones, Tme richer far than gold, or precious stones. Seven foot of ground, and three foot deep I crave, The passing bell, to sound mine obsequie : Gold, lands, and rents, the living world I leave, Else if I smart, by streames, by flouds, or sea : Then shall some fishes belly, be my grave, No winding sheet, my Corps shaU need to have. But stay ! what passion, thus diverts my minde ? Dust shall to dust, and earth to earth returne ; If I can here, true peace of conscience finde, What losse ? what trash ? what crosse ? can make me mourner For when laid low, and having lost this frame, My soule shall mount to Heaven, from whence it came. K 3 The The gushing Teares The im- The soule it is, of heavenly substance fram'd, subBtance Breathd in at man's nostrils, by his Maker ; of the soul. ^ gpj,j^ invisible, Grods image nam'd, With whom of Essence, infinite partaker : Will, mem'rie, knowledge, faculties divine, Are my soules socialls, reason do confyne. Will, is to rule, and knowledge to conceave, And memorie, a locall power assumes ; Knowledge, as chief, makes understanding crave A league with love, whose worke true blesse resumes : Lo ! there's the fruit, of this ccelestiall mould ! Which never here shall rot, nor hence grow old. Then teach me, Lord ! to count my slyding dayes, That I to ^visedome, may my heart apply : So shall thy statutes, guyde my slipprie wayes. And circumspection, all my actions try : Who knew his date of life ? and might attaine it P Would learne to live well,- else he would disdaine it. We're apt to note, the lives of other men. But not our owne ; selfe-love, our sense divides ; Like two ships, under saile, and one course, ken ? Both sailers think, each other swifter glides Than their owne ship : So we can check and show The lives of others, and our owne misknow : Our haires growne gray, our desires then grow greene. And after earthly things, we hunt amaine ; We love this world so well, as oft its seene ! That we are dead with grief, ere death hath slaine Us with destruction : Age would faine be young. To nurse the serpent, that his soule hath stung. Man of godlie sorrow. Man lives like him, who fell into a pit, Yet caught a grippe, by a branch'd tree, and hung Above his head, a hony Combe did sit, Whence his deep appetite, delight had wrung : Below two gnawing wormes, razing its roote, The tree fals downe, and greed devourd the fruit. The pit our grave, the Tree, this mortall Hfe, This hony combe, vaine pleasures of the world ; The mi- Two gnawing wormes, the speedy thiftu'ous strife, Stnesse Of night and day, wherein our dayes are hurld : "* '^f'=- Time clouds our light, the glasse is runne, we fall, Downe to the 4ust, where death triumphs o're all. Then darknesse covers Man, he mouldring rots, Earth gluts him in her wombe, away he goes ! BQs better part, resumes one, of two lots, "No shade, nor sepulchre, can it enclose : It either mounts above, or falls beneath, There is no midst, can stop, or stay its path. Each course is violent, faith conquers Heaven, By force and wrestling, in the way of light ; Which strait is, and few enter : Most are driven Downe to the gulfe, of ever-sorrowing night : l^hat way is broad, where numbers, numberlesse, Fall in earths Cell, plungd in cursd wofullnesse. Such as the life's, so frequently the death. The Divels deceit, prolongs us in delay : Then wouldst thou flee that pestilence ? set faith Against temptation : Kunne the happy way That leads to life : Make thy confession cleare ! And beg for peace, then mercy will draw neare. Yet The gushing Teares Yet ah ! how fraile am I ? how weak ? how wretchd ? That even my conscience, trembles at my cace : Alas ! poore sleeping soule ! how art thou stretchd ? In drousie dulnesse, void of good, and grace : Pluck up thy selfe, condole, confesse, convert, And strive to stand, although thy steps divert. The Compasse stands not, solide to the Pole, Though with the Loadstone, any point is touchd ; But hath some variation, we controle. To the East or West, as hourely is avouchd : So none of our best deeds, though touchd with grace, Points God amaine, deflection marres our pace. Which made Saint Paul, ingenuously confesse. That by himselfe, he nothing knew, nor could aad faiUng Be thereby justify'd ; 'cause his digresse man"" "^^^ judg'd by God ; the Loadstone true that would Point forth each point ; and yet forget, forgive. The least, the maine, the guilt, for which we grieve. The Woman for adultrie, been accusde. Was brought to be adjudgd before our Lord : Their thoughts he saw, and what deceit they usde ; They fled, she stood, and found misericord : Woman (said he) thine adversars are gone. He not condemne thee, mercy is my Throne. How good and gracious, was the light of grace, That purgd, and pardond, this Woman unrequested : She's gone, and freed, the law could take no place. No roome for Moses, when his Master feasted : For why ? from double death, he set her free. The Judge was pleader, he discuss'd the pleye. Alas! of godlie sorrow. Alas ! when I recall, preteriat times, What losse finde I, in my lost dayes and deeds : For morall slips, a world of weightier crimes, And to condemne me, justice, judgement pleads : Yet stay sad soule, conceive, confesse, condole, With me my sinnes, my frailties He controule. What frivole fancies, flow from my flowne minde ? Which often blinde my judgement ; and divert My better aimes ; whilst reason can not finde The cause of such delusions ; for I smart In their velocitie ; abusing will, They thrall combustion, to assist their ill. What foolish prancks, in gesture, deed, or word ? The va- What fond conceits, in flash-flowne merrvments ? net\es of What scoffing squibs, which taunting mocks afford ? What idle straines, iu vaine spent complements ? Have I not done ; and in such actions quick, To foole my fellows, with a jeering trick. This thought, that surmise, this flash, that reglance, Of suddaine, motions, else of flowne conceats : More voluble they were, than wide-wingd chance ! Which tops all things, all where, and at aU dates : There's nought more swift than fancie, nought more fond. More bight than winde, which flees, and is not found. Then, Lord, ingraft in me, a constant heart, Sound, grave, and solid, holy, wise, and just : Prudent in much, and provident in part. That all, my all, may in thy mercies trust : Kule thou the Euther of my foggy minde, Lest in dark mists I wander, and turne blinde. L Bring The gushing Teares Bring me unto my selfe, from outward things, And from my selfe, even to thy selfe, bring me ; That I in chast will, and pure desirings. May be like Thee, as I'me in nature : see ? Lord set me wholly, on fire with thy love, That my lights, and delights, in Thee may move. This Worlds a Mappe, of transitorie toyes 1 Which to expostulate, were labour lost ; A shaddow mask'd, with hypocritick joyes, Fals in the face, and hollow in the cost : And whats our love, or life ? when dead, ere rotten ? Our short stay here, is presently forgotten. Man like to vapour melts, wealth as the winde, Doth flee away ; and honour like fond dreames. Dissolves to nought ; so Parentage we finde Unnaturall oft : Tea, children by extreames, Kebellious grow : So mighty men grow meane. And meane men great ; this change is daily scene. Would God mens sonnes, could learne how Storks they do Who, when their old growne weake, diseasde, distrest, Their young ones beare them, on their backs ; and lo ! They flee with them all where, from nest, to nest ; With care they keep them, bring them what they need, Though they themselves, have their owne young to feed. . Its strange setheriall love, should passe humane ! For our young brood, would have their Parents die ; ch3dren to That they might get their goods, and thereby gaine, rente ^^ If poore, SO want, they will them straight denie : Nay, slight them, scorne them, raile on their distresse. Thus they decline, and here their wretchednesse. O love- Ingratefull of godlie sorrow. O lovelesse age ! you might this fault amend ! And pittie Nature, gave you life to live ; Be not like Vipers, for to make an end Of these, who did, your blood and beeing give ; If not the Turtle, play the Eagles part, Since Parents are, your Pelicanes in heart. All thinges runne contrare, in a head-strong change. The world growes grim, mens hearts grow false and double ; Twixt Sonne and father, this is nowayes strange, To see each one, forsake anothers trouble : Nay, friends, familiars, blood, Mnred, mother. Live most in strife, no love 'twixt one another. So elements are changd, in part from nature, But above all, the earth growes bare and old ; The Moones prest influence, failes in some Creature, Short falls her force : The Sunne growes tyrde and cold, And seasons frozen ; the airie clouds convert In boistrous wiqdes : most Climes ! Kke tributes part. Most grounds grow barren, and their fruits are blasted, And bestiall perish, by depressing stormes : The aire's, intemperate, and the fields ly wasted With nipping frosts, and canker spoiling wormes : Elemental Nay, mens conditions change, and Christian love changes. Growes worse .than barbarous, we hourely prove. Mercy, good Lord I grant mercy, for thy Name Is Mercy, mercy, Lord of kinde compunction : Father of pittie, compassion we claime, Lover of love, thou life of loves conjunction : Come patient Syre ! thou long suffring God ! And slow to anger ; come ! spare thy threatning rod. L 2 Looke The gushing Teares The pre- Looke downe on Christendome, this Westeme world, ries S^' Whose lands, (with fatall sword) are drunk with blood : Christen- Where Kings and kingdomes, in combustions hurld I Turne spectacles of scorne, to Pagans rude : There is no Nation, within Christian bounds, That suffers not disasters, threats, or wounds. The Infidell beholds, and swearing sayes, That our Keligion, is a bare profession : For Christs dishonourd, in our ambitious wayes. No faith we show, farre lesse of truth confession : Pryde, puft with malice, is our Christian marke, Deceit, despight, our daylie divelish wark. Here wounds, there bloud, here death, and there disasters, Here Mothers nitiurning, for their slaughterd sonnes : There Widdows weeping, servants for their Masters : Here helplesse OrphaneS, bursting forth starv'd groanes ; There sisters for their brothers, sorrowing sore, Last fataU framelings, one another gore. This universall scourge, is grievous great, For kinred, nor alliance, nought can swage : Faith, for performance, breeds but greater hate : Deep words and scales, turne reason ragg'd in rage, Kinde honesty is fled, true love exyld. And conscience with deceitfulnesse defyld, 'Looke on this halfe Ew(ypian angry face ! And thou shalst see, the mother of mischiefe I Point forth at BoTnie, that hollow hellish place. Eye but her Prelats, hatchers of our grief I And thou shalst finde, that Antichristian Whoore ! Would nought but Millions, for one life devoure. She of godlie sorrow. She hunts her hounds abroad, and they obey, The craf- Some worke, some runne, some plot, some poyson Nobles ; cruelty of Some treason hatch, some murder ! what they say, ^*°™'- Is fac'd with Sophistrie ; perjurie doubles Their mentall muttrings : The Jesuites their Trumpet ! Must sound the cruelties, of that Babell Strumpet. At home, we have at home I at home, alace ! A world of woes, and rogueries of like kinde : I could, I would, I should, bewray this cace ! I dare, but dare not, signifie my minde : That faction is so strong, and I so weake, That thrice the Prison, they my lodging make. They bragge like Butchers, of their beastly deeds. And laugh at cruelty, as at a play ? Their homes they push, and policie them leads, Nought but mischief, their head-strong course can stay : And glutting gape, to have old rotten Borne Erect'd our Mistresse, else themselves consume. What kinred can they claime, to Tylers banks, (The river shallow, and in Summer dry) We have Gods word, and they posternall blanks, The light here shines, with them doth darknesse lye : Or shall the truth, in foppish relicks rest, That were to Britaine, an Egyptian pest. But stay, stay ! long have I liv'd, and liVd To see their blindlesse, in dejections fall; I know their wayes, and at their lives have griev'd They pierce our wills, and we their projects thrall : Is any under Sunne, so well acquainted, With them, as I, whose body they tormented. L 3 They The gushing Teares They wish that Malaga had burnt me quick, As doom'd I was so, by Spaines Inquisition : Whose tortures (ah !) fast to my bones doe stick, And vexe me sore, with pangs of requisition : Great God avenge't, confound them ; and restore Me to my health ; for He debord no more. Lord, give me grace, of all things to praise Thee, Who never leaves thine owne, left in distresse : Thou first discoverd, then deliver'd me, A worke of love, beyond my hopefulnesse, I sought, thou wrought, then did enlarge my life, Free from destruction, last, from PapaR strife. Now to observe my method. He returne To square construction, with deploring Saints : Then here's my rule, lie both rejoyce and moume. For teares bring joy, when mercy crownes complaints : The just man sinnes, seven times a day ; and I FuU seventy seven times, may each houre descry. Oh I if mine eyes ! like Arafhusean Springs, (Fled Ch-eece to Syracuse) could yeeld three Fonts : One to bewaile originall sinne, stings The life of nature ; the other (ah !) amounts To actuall trespasse ; the last, and worst comes in. To consuetude, a deadly dangerous sinne. Compari- Yet as the Malefactour, when set free fr^dome -'^^om death and pardond ; his heart is overjoyed ; from Bin. Or as the Prisner, set at libertie, Which long before, he never had enjoyed : So Man, when freed from sinne, and Satans clawes, His soule triumphs, and loves religious lawes. of godlie sorrow. A shipwrackt man, cast on some planke to seeke, The safe set land ; which got, how glad is he ? So shipbroke sinners, in some stormie creek. Of sinfull seas, and sterne iniquitie : Beene free to coast the shoare of grace, and landed, More greater joy, than theirs, nev^r soule commanded. A wandring sonne, long forraniz'd abroad, In Parents hopes, left desolate, or slaine : Yet when returnd, and shaken off the load Of strangers rites ; how they rejoyce amaine ? So Saints, so Heavens, so Angels joy, when changd, One sinner turnes, who long from God hath rangd ! These teares at Babell spent, on Tigris banks, ^^^ j^^ Where Ewphrates salutes, that stately station : Jst tears on Sowre-set Hebraick plaints, powr'd forth by ranks, banks""^ Of mourning Captives, banishd from their Nation, And Sions face : sad Judaick songs ! Wailing for sinne, and sterne Chaldean wrongs. None of their teares were lost, they pierc'd the heavens. Whence kinde compassion, free deliVrance sprung, God from his deoperculate Oherubins ! Imbracd these feares, his chosen flock had stung : Then Mordecais sackcloth, Queene Estliers woes. Wrought Hamans death, made Israel to rejoise. Thus teares, and pale repentance, brought reliefe. Though once exyld, see now, they're back-reclaimd : The least construction, bred from godly griefe. Begets like mercy, mercy stands proclaimd : At Heavens court gate : for Christ the trumpet sounds ! And bids. all sinners come, he'le heale their wounds. Who The gushing Teares Who pleads for peace, shall mercie finde with God, The oyle of grace, shall oyle their stinking gores ; AU fatigating soules, griev'd with the load Of sinne, may come, whose case remorse deplores : For sanctif/d crosses, all just Mens troubles, Are not prest sorrows ; Mercy I conafort doubles. I never finde affliction, fall on me, Without desert ; for God is true and just : Nor shall it come, and without profit be. For God is good, as mercifull I trust : Then welcome aU afflictions sent from God, He whom he loves, he chastens with his rod. Who loves his childe, administers correction, on begets And keeps him imder awe, cause oi complamers ; Yet notwithholds, kinde Natures best affection, But curbes his will, to rectifie his manners : Much more Gods love abounds, cause we are fraile. And playes the Jayler, then becomes our baile. He lets us fall, that he may raise us up, And though we sinke, we cannot headlong drowne. By gentle stripes, he represents the cup Which Christ drunk of ; our patience for to crowne : As Peter sunke, then shrunke, was twice recall'd. So if we sinke, or slyde, we are not thralld. The love of God it free, his mercy gracious. There's no constraint, binds God, to pittie man, But of free will, would make our soules solacious, To glorifie his goodnesse ; if we can But apprehend by faith, what he hath done. For us, through Christ, his onely righteous Sonne. awe, Man of godlie sorrow. Man pondring on his momentany dayes, May well conceive, the brevetie of time : From which extract, he should contract the praise Of him, who hastes, to short the sense of slime : And if it were not, for his owne Elect, He would prolong the day, and speed neglect. What is this age of ours ? much like a span ; Yea ; like the water buble, shent, as swelld ; Even as the glyding shade, so fadeth Man, Or like the morning grasse, soone sprung, soone quelld : short and Nay, like the flowre which falls, then rots ere noone, «"^ '^^ So melt our dayes, and so our dayes are done. And yet what are our dayes, the longest liver ? As one man once, I saw, seven score yeares old : Nay, diverse six score, health was such a giver Of lengthning time, ere they returnd to mould : And yet a dreame, whose larger halfe of life. Was spent in sleep, the rest in toile and strife. Oh ! if ambitious men ! their ends were showne ! That like the froth, do beat on rocks of death : That shadow short, from a fled substance flowne, Much like a dreame, so vanisheth their breath : Then would their deeds, forbeare to tyranize. The Just might live, and offer sacrifice. But (ah !) their thundring spight ! like t'a storme thuds ! And boasting men, would thereby Grod upbraid ; The light they scorne, and in Infernall clouds, Would smother vertue, with a sanguine spade ; Is not this Christian world, with bloud o'rewhelmde ! Their swords with strife, their heads with hatred helmde. M See! The gushing Teares See 1 godlesse Tyrants, tyrannizing still, And scourging Saints, themselves they scourge with shame : Like Nimrod they, 'gainst Heaven will have their will ! Though justice, in sad judgements plague the same : At last, behold ! where they themselves sojourne, Their threatning swords, back in their bosome turne. When JDionisus for tyranny had fled, He kept a schoole, in Calabria, eight yeares : At MonteciUon, opposite indeed To Sicilie ; which he at last endeares : A king to turne a schoolemaster, was strange ! But back to turne a King, a rarer change. In this our age, what kings have beene dis-thrond, Detect'd, cast downe, last banish'd from their bounds : I could recite, and where th' injust were crownd. And Princes headlong, hurled from their grounds : Pryde fosterd spight, with them the Ulcer brecks, Which gored the harmelesse, broke ambitious necks. Would God mens choler, could with patience lurke ! To blunt the edge of anger, and to curbe With Job their passion ; let forbearance worke The stress'd Athenian suffring : Not disturbe Times meek-fac'd calmenesse, prosperous in peace. With which no soile, more blest was, once than Greece. Have I, said Athens, beene the mother nurse ! Of lib'rall Airts, and science, Natures light ; inade"the And now my Carcase, beares the vulgar curse, ^d' mLour ^^ Spartoes scorne ; and Lacedemon spight : of mise- Shall malicc tread on virtue ? shall disgrace ? Of neighbours hate, on my gold tresses trace. Though A them nes. of godlie sorrow. Though thirty one Invaders on me prey, Each one triumphing, in anothers ill : Yet flexe I not, though forc'd for to obey, No pride shall presse my patience ; nor good will, Gaine me to flatter : Nor puft Tyrants shall Bruise me iu pieces, though I suffer thrall. Yet was her Virgine body, made a Whoore To ev'ry proud Insulter ; and her fame A Strumpets voice : Whom Mars did once defloure, And turning Harlot, robd her Vestall name : The Victors glutting, on her vanquishd spoyles. Made griefe guide sorrow ; Fortune fixt her foyles. In this digression, take a morall note. From slaughterd Athens, now a village left ; That all beginnings, (not their endings) quote, Have floorishd faces, from their spring-tyde reft : Their Medium is not long, the morne is all, And then their end, in lumps of fragments fall. What once was Ilium f Tyrus now calld Sur ? j,^^ ^_ And Ninivie, whose ruines are ruind : constancie Seven ported Thebes, rich in silks and Furre, pride°' ^ And Carthage, Africks glory, now declind : Nay, save of three, some monuments are showne. The other two, their seats, are hardly knowne. So Antioch, whence sprung the Christian name. And Sions Dame, Judeas sacred citie : Yea, Alexandria, famous in her fame. With Babylon, the remaindure of pittie : Though not like Jericho, a lumpe of stones. They're but rent relicks, of their former ones. M 2 A life. The gushing Teares A wondrous thing of Nature, I observe, When Xerxes cross'd, the Hellespontick sea : In greatest Grandure, then begunne to swerve Ftom Princely courage, staid dexteritie : Where when the Pontick waves, with troups were cled, Of numbers, numberlesse, and he the head. Ambiti- ous Xerx- Then burst he forth in teares, and wept amaine, Sg thV* (Grazing on thousands, which his puissance brought) brevitie of An,j g^id, This sight, and all this glorious traine ! Within an hundred yeares, shall come to nought : I weep (said he) 'cause nothing here can stay, But like full streames, they slide, and steale away. My horse, my Chariots, Engynes, men of warre. And Souldiers strong, shall all dissolve in dust ; My spight 'gainst Greice, and their imperious Jarre, My greed of honour, their revenge injust, Which Sardis bore : Shall eftsoone be as they, Had never beene, so mortall things decay. Thus mournd this Pagan King, whose rule may learne Most moderne Tymes, to waile like consequence : For in which Mappe, true judgement may discerne. That ancient dayes, had full experience Of natures frailtie, changings, mortals being, Whose restlesse course, was sight-lost shadows flying. So day and night, on two extreames depend, Either to lengthen, or to shorten prest : The restlesse tides, like alterations spend. By GyntTiias waxing, waining is exprest : The seasons runne, foure times the yeare about, And are renewd ay, as their times go out. No of godlie sorrow. No state doth solide stand ; Man most mutable ! In fortune, or himselfe, each leaving other : He carelesse fled from meanes : If disputable ? His meanes are fled from him, to court another : Whats mine to day, to morrow may be thine, And whats thine now, next day, it may be mine. Nor is their health in beauty, nor in strength, Of body soundnesse : Subject to disease, Is ev'ry creature ; young and old at length, Shall feele infirmities ; Natures worst unease. Graft in corruption : None can sicknesse shunne, But he must suffer, ere his glasse be runne. Such sowre flagelloes, are the rods of nature. To whippe the childe of lust, with sound correction : Cause why ? they're Moulds, where grace renews each creature, And makes chastisements, signifie affection : Nay, they're preparatives, against sterne death, Beene fenc'd with patience, flankd about with faith. AU which denote, men should not fixe their hearts. On transitorie things, or trash below : All under sunne, in whole, in rest, or parts, Are Emblemes of inconstancie I know : Man, Beast, and Tree, Wealth, Honour, Health, and Fame, Are but crost Changelings, of this changing Frame. Whats heere (beholde !) but toyle, and worldUe losses ? Sinne, shame, and sorrow, trouble, griefe, and scorne, ig loaden Spight, strife, and malice, ignorance, and crosses, Adversities sterne face ; friendship forlorne : Pryde flankd with povertie. Tyrants infliction. Of gall'd oppression, to adde distresse affliction, M 3 Such with cros- The gushing Teares Such passive moods, are frequent growne, that now- Old crazd calamitie, begins to quiver : Both rich and poore, live timerous, and how ? The one to keep whats got : The others feaver, Burnes for to get, the first, fears losse, and trembles. The seconds patience, with content dissembles. In Citie, Court, and Countrey, here's their fall, The flat- Deceit, deceives them, with deceitfuU stings ; Com^s But most in royall Mansions 1 there's the gaU ! Where Sophistrie, speaks two contrary things : And neither thinks to do : Here flattrie stands, To blinde the truth, there ambodextrate hands. Then blest are they ! who live at home in rest. And neither follow Court, nor courtly toyes : That life is sweet, and of all lives the best. For homely Houlds, are chargd with privat joyes : Most Courtiers mouthes. seeme kind, with hearts as hollow- As derne Syhillas Hall, which few can follow. To day they smile, and promise what you would, And fill stress'd suppliants, with inunding hopes : To morrow as unkinde, and fi-ozen cold. And tramp in dust, their suiters sad-sought scopes : Unlesse their palmes, you oynt, -with soVraigne ore, Your suite is lost, and you left to deplore. The very Dunse, that yesterday was base. When having got an office, looks as hie As skie-set clouds, then will cast downe his face, And squinke acquaintance, to have courtesie : This Kuffian, who did homage thee before. Now thou must beck to him, and him implore. Tell of godlis sorrow. Tell Courtiers of repentance, they wiU mock ! And turne their teares in taunts, and scoffing jests ; He who feares God, they hold him as a block, Its vice and foolerie, their conceit digests : They never dreame of judgement, nor of death, But spend in complements, their flattering breath. Let none mistake, nor misconstruct my minde, I meane of Courts, in general! all where ; There's good and bad, in any hollow kinde, Both men and beasts, in this may claime their share : A Savage, I have found, as kinde in part. As best thought Christians, save the noble heart. All I desire, and what my soule can wish ! Sions pro- Is that the truth may stand, and vertue flourish ; prayed for. Lo ! there's the daintie, of an holy dish ! To feed poore soules, and humble ones to nourish : And for this cause, each one should pray with other, Gods word may prosper, and his Church our mother. Lord spread the Mantle, of thy mercy round About the borders, of her glorious shrine ; Enlarge her power ; let earths remotest bound. Stand for the limits, of her light divine : That thou who on bright Cherubins doth ride. May guide, and guard, the beauty of thy Bride. rie dive no more in sinne, and crooked wayes Of rotten nature, which corruption brings : Nor from the worlds example, draw these strayes Of th' head-strong multitude ; confusion stings : He lay about the Kuther of my minde, To keep a safer loofe, and thirle the winde. What The gushing Teares What rapt coelestiall, forceth my desire ? To be dissolved ; my soule may mount aboue, To see these joyes, that blesse, that glorious hyre : Which Saints enjoy ; life's ever-springing love ! My hope resumes, I might as happy rest, In pleasures there, as they are happy blest. Now I returne (good God turne thou to me) As Travellers, who have been long abroad ; Are foro'd by love, their soile and friends to see. No rest, till then, their hearts, the way have trode : So I'me estrangd, my Oountrie is above, Heaven is the place, thou Lord, my Ught, my love. Great is the glory, of thy glorious face ! Enstall'd with Angels ; Saints, and Martyres gone : Set fore the Throne, with legions of each race. Singing applauses, to that blessed One, The Lambe of Love ; our Advocate, thy Sonne, Who by his death wrought our Salvation. Fixe fast my thoughts, to the tree of thy crosse. Draw all the forces of my soule to Thee : Lift up my heart, let me renounce the drosse, And dregs of ill ; let me aspire on hie ! And walke 'twixt feare and love, in all my deeds, As thou 'twixt justice, and mercy proceeds. -i^e 3^„ Thy vertues are for us, sufficient great, shines on Like as the Sunne it shines, the World all where ; the good -vT J > • 1 and bad. xct cvry man, enjoyeth so much heat, As if it shinde to him, in proper share : So are thy graces, infinite, and we Enjoy the fruits of their felicitie. But of godlie sorrow. But what ? our lives are short, so are our dayes ! Except in troubles ! miseries, alace ! Our continuance certaine, in uncertaine wayes, No time of death is knowne, to us nor place : Gods will is so, to have us still prepard, An set on watch, lest that our steps be snard. Each minutes life, steps forward to sterne death. And ev'ry act, robs some pa"rt of our life ; Like him who sailes in ships, and action hath In toylesome paines, yet forward flees his strife : We cannot twice returne in Natures state, 'Cause time runs post, and can make no retreat. My Sunne of life, hath his Meridian past. And plungd I am, in th'after-noone of age ; The night of Nature, fastens on me fast ! And death waits closse, to pull me from this stage : But Lord, thou wilt not, leave my soule in grave. Let ly the Corps, they'le once conjunction have. Our dayea nor time can never returne. Now having sung, of deep remorse, and teares. Lord ! save me from these weeping teares of Hell ; Which grief declares, and ever-gnashing feares ! For losse of joy ; and sense of horrours fell : Who would not here, a few spent teares disclose. Shall there bewaile, in floods of bitter woes. As sea-bred fishes, never saltnesse wed, But still their bodies, stay both sweet and fresh : So grant my soule, thats with corruption cled, May live as pure, not medling with the flesh : But sinne begins first, in the sillie soule, And ends into the body, base and foule. N What The gushing Teares our Phy- What shall I say ? when mans rot in disease, sitian. ^j^j uiggrd sore, the Phisitian draws neare, To give him pills and potions, worke his ease. And lets him blood, he may his health endure : Much more Christ's bloud, can purge and cleanse the soule. Of all uncleaanesse, pardon what is foule. Then to great Jove, the mighty King of kings, He prostrate fall, on my low bended knees ; To beg for mercy, mercy comfort brings, And joy of sprit, works peace from gushing eyes : 80 Lord of Lords ! sweet Christ, what I would have ? Is knowne, and showne, I call, I cry, I crave. Now by these words, whom seek you, and confession. By thy breath, made the Sergeants backward fall ; By that care rouzd thine, slumbring in digression. By thy pangs in Gethsemane, one, and all : By that power and patience, fore Anne exprest, By that prophecie, of Gajaphas the Priest. By that deep agony, of bloud and sweat. By these sore scourgings, spittings on thy face, By these rough nailes, piercd thy hands and feet. By all these mockings, done thee for disgrace : By that sharpe speare, which smote thy tender heart. By that Viniger thou drunk, and gall of smart. By that crowne of thornes, thrust on thy bare head, By these blood sprinklings, downe thy face that fell : By that heavy Crosse, on thy shoulders spread. By thy descending downe, in earths dark Cell ; By that great power, of thy great resurrection, By thine ascension : profound election I By of godlie sorrow. By thy five bleeding wounds, I thee implore, ,j^^ ^^^^ And by the vertne, of thy death and passion ; rings and By that purple Eoabe, forc'd in scorne thou wore, cmX °* By all these taunts, these Ruffians spent for fashion : Nay, by that superscription, wrote for news, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. By thy nativitie, and incarnation, Tea, by these words, Mother behold thy Sonne, And Sonne, Behold there, thy consolation ! Go Hve, and live in peace, live both as one : Nay, by this moode, for heavie was thy load, Why thus forsahst thou me, my God my God. By thy baptisme, 'fasting, humiliation. By all thy miracles, and wonders done : By these teares thou shed, and transfiguration On Tahor seene ; As thou art Christ, Gods sonne : Save, shield, and shelter, my designes, my wayes, For my souls health, and thine eternall praise. Nay, by, and for, and from, thy self I beg, For pittie, grace, and pardon, free remission Of all my sinnes : cleanse me the least dreg, That lurkes within my Temple ; thy possession : Let all be cleane, Lo ! there's the totall summe ! My soule implores, come now. Lord Jesus come. Great King of ages ! Monarch, of all times ! Thou first, and last, is, was, and ever blest ! Redeemer, unredeemd ! Purger of Crymes ! Thou Light, of lights, thou Mans sole-soveraigne rest : Encrease, in me thy Sprit, infuse thy grace ! Confirme my heart, show forth thy loving face. N 2 Sweeter The gushing Teares Sweeter than hony ! or the hony Combe ! Life, light, and love, all goodnesse, peace, and grace ! Sonne of Mercy ! that in blest Maries wombe Incarnate was ; left Heaven thy mansion place ; Where now thou art, and art all where ; Oome see ! My heart, my help, my health, depend on Thee. In Thee I rest, Lord ! sanctifie my hope, In Thee I trust, Lord ! fortifie my faith ; In Thee I grow, Lord ! fructifie my scope, In Thee I walk, Lord ! rectifie my path : In Thee I stay, in Thee I live, and die : In Thee I move, in Thee above I flie. Lord ! grant thy grace may make these Teares so blest ? (And blesse them all, shall them peruse for blis) That godly griefe, may in their blessings rest, Kemorsefnll soules, whose teares implore for this : Lord ! pittie me, Lord ! pardon my Transgression, Lord! cleanse my Heart ; Lord blesse thou this Confession. 'ji^g^wy^^ F I ]N^ I S. ^^7S^^^s>^^S^ A Briefe and summarie discourse upon that lamen- table and dreadfuU disaster at DUNGLASSE. Anno 1640. the penult of August. Collected from the soundest and best instructions. That time and place could certainly affoord, the serious enquirie of the painfull and industrious Author. By William Lithgovv. EDINBURGH, Printed by Robert Bryson. The Argument. Qjffat mean you Poets now ? where are your verse ? ' Shall Gallants die ? will you forget their Herse ? Shall after times be rohhd, of what disasters '^Have now falne out ? fye on you Poetasters Why sit you dumb ? or can you not performe So sad a task, on such a grievous storme ? Else gape you for reward, whilst there is none Left to requite you, save your selves alone : This perhaps may stop you, why ? without gains, Prest Penmen shrink, its true, gifts sweeten pains But most men think, pathetick stiles seem hard For some to do, the like hath numbers marrde : Shall I grown old then ivritel nay, I must to it. Since you, and your young straines refuse to do it. This work ten months ago, had seen the light. But unperformde promises, bred dresight. A t London, and at home : Should I conceale For blandements, what Fme bound to reveale. And at my cost dischargde : No, that were rare. To see mee court (Camelion like) the aire. Would God like subject, heavens from earth had closde. Then friends nor foes, had grievd, nor yet rejoicde. A 2 But The argument. But all MonarcMck Tyme must seal ihit blow, What we construct, that sequel times may know : Deeds smotherd, lye intombd, thoughts without words, Are dumb mens signes, what our prime light affoords, Is utterance from knowledge ; though now dark tim^s, Shut murder up, closde with perfidious crymes : Nay, whats not now ? hands, seals, oathes, writs, 4" vows, A re cancelld, or forsworns ; deceit allows Base falshood, for best truth : (0 treacherous hearts !) Sow shall the heavens revenge us ! on your parts Yet patience crowns our suffrings, and none such But they who can the marke of conscience touch. Then since its so ; that words and woes agree, Let silence sleep, lie moume where mourners be. Times Times sorrovvfull disaster at Dunglasse, containing infallible grounds and reasons, how that most • execrable and parracidiall deed was committed. »|Et melting flouds, sad silent groaves, and winds Bank-falling brooks, & shril woods that Minds ' Prest Nymphall lists ; let frowning time, & all ■iThe Elements admyre, this monstrous fall. And marvellous mishape, done under tract Of homicide, by an abortive fact : Come let them roare, and rent the azure skies, (Lamenting this lament) with shrinking cries, And agitat reports : let ecchoing hills, From their wide sighted tops, rebounding fills, The solitarie plains, with trembling sounds, Of dreadfull Massacres ; gorging stressd bounds, With laborinths of fears ; come spend their time. To siste the Traitour, and that treacherous cryme : Which this black herse averrs : let heavens, and all. That move, and live, within earths massie ball ; Adhere, and witnesse bear, of these disasters, And by their kindes, turne prodigall, worne wasters. Of watrie woes : let darkned dens and caves. Steep rocks sunk glens, dead creatures from their graves Shout forth their plaints, sowre stormy showres of grief To plead our pleading losse. And to be brief; Come soul-set mourners, for untimely death. That can expresse your sighes, and panting breath With Times sorrowfuU disaster With hollow groanes, come shed with me salt teares, And plunging sobs, for mourning now appeares : Say, if deep sorrow, may from passive mood. Turn watrie woes, in a Palmenian floud : Its more then time, Ccepartners had their share, Grim grief is easde, when care reforgeth care. For if the minde (like to a soul tormented) Make passion speak, melancholy is vented. * What shaking terrour stroke me to the heart, Whilst I conceivd the fact, and saw the part Left desolate and spoild, and so confounded That my forcd cryes, from Ecchoes twice rebounded, Fell flatlings down, where they and I lay so, Alive or dead, I knew not, if, or no : For passion (like to rapsodies) subverts The vitall sense, extreames construct our smarts. And none so shallow, but they may conceave That sudden news, if bad, om- souls do leave, Laid in a litargie, of sensllesse sleep. Till rouzd, and then pale eyne begin to weep : Such pearling drops, with windy sighs and sobs Heart groaning grief, and CatajpJialion blobs. When brust, begets a voice, that voice sad words Which now my self ; to my sought self affords. fatall stroke ! dolefuU day and houre ! What raging hate, made time to lurk and loure, To murder such brave sparks, (beside all others) A noble Lord, two Knights, and two kinde brothers. All Hammiltons of note ? with many moe, Which in a Catalogue, I will thee show, Placd here at the conclusion, for direction So far by tryall, as I got inspection, With cost and toylsome paines : who can deplore Their tragick end ? else who can keep in store Their at Dunglasse. Their fatall names ? full threescore young and old, Were killd and quelld, in that unhappie hould ; And smotherd down with stones : like fearfuU end Was ne'er heard of : what ? did a cloud portend That blustring blow, which rose on Sunday morne, Forth from the sea, and to Dunglasse was borne. pitifuU presage ! which they did see, Yet had no luck, from that hard luck to flee. But what ? who can expresse this grievous act ? Hearts may conceive, what no pen can extract : Some few of all were safe, and onely nine. Of which there two, this mem'rie I propyne ; Young Dalmahoy and happie Prestongrange, Who by heavens marv'lous mercy, in this change Did wondrously escape ; and yet both wounded, Have in that harme, their health again refounded, All thanks to Jove : Lord make them wise to know Their lives sweet safetie, in that dreadfuU blow. For in the twinkling of a rolling eye. Their friends and they were severd : But come see. How all the rest lye shent, some undiscoverd Are there shut up, with heaps of fragments coverd, And bodies tome and crushd : what shall I say ? But curse th'accident, of that dismall day. What, had the destinies, or angrie fates, Crossde constellations, deaths prodigious Mates, Or ominous aspects, self-bloudy Comets, That like prest whirlewindes, their furie vomits, With anxious threats on man, decreed this wonder ! That dye they must, and dye with such a thunder. sterne mortalitie ! that with their death, Keft blind posteritie, of lookd for breath. And natures tract, for they thryce hopefull Syres, Might have had children to their full desires : Which Times sorrowfull disaster Which now we want, whilst they themselves are laid As low as dust, by deaths predom'nant spade. But stay sad soul, what means these heaps of stones, And lumps of walls, spread as confused ones ; Trace here and there : where, when I went a spying, My heart it faild me, and I fell a crying : Heavens ! (said I) how came this deed to passe ? So many Worthies slain, in sackt Dunglasse : For what ? by whom ? what evill had they done ? That one black sudden blast, they could not shun : Wast their Ancestors fault ? their owne much worse ? Their kinreds guilt or friends ? their childrens curse ? Or hyrelings scourge ? O Heavens will ye conceal This stratagem, and not the truth reveal : If mortall men were angels, we should know The cause, the sin, the Wretch, the hand the blow : But this combustion, ah ! confused tort, Was but a crack : and now to make it short. There's one suspect'd, and that suspitions true. Actor he was, if done of spight, judge you. As after you shall hear : But Tie proceed In method and in matter, so take heed. Lo, I have searchd, and tryde, and seen the place, And spoke with some ahve ; but for the cace And manner how, they know no more, then they Who never saw't, so sudden was the fray : That even the thought, of that prepostrous fit. Was sensible, to have robbd them of their wit, If deeply weighd : as who would from a rock, Leap headlong in the sea, such was that knock. These Innocents receivd : a Lyons heart Would shake in pieces, to conceive their smart. And short farewell. So quick was their goodnight. Like to a Faulcon in his hungrie flight. That at Dunglasse. That lends the eye a glance, that heart nor minde Can show the like, except the rushing winde. Which forceth me, (if melting woes may mourne) Backwards to look, and to my plaints returne : O sad disaster ! so monstrous and cruel, As if hells mouth, had lent the action fewell, Is more then admirable : what flesh can Dascon the fault, and that short fury scan. Afore the floud and after, the like blow Was never heard of, nor no time can show So foule a tragick act : done, and undone, Was both the deed, and dead ; the glimpsing Moone Was in the wayning hushd, as if the night That followd on, had lost its borrowd Hght From curling Thetis : Like crack, nor like smoake Made never Stromhoh, that burning rock In the Uu/emian gulf ; nor Vulcans shop In the Molian lies, can this o'retop. Nor no like furious flame ; nor Mtnaes flre In three set parts, may with this crack aspire, For all its force : was malice so incensde. That neither space nor favour, was propensde To harmelesse honestie. O dreadfull doome ! That with a clap, did threescore lives consume. Or was it so, that flesh and bloud may shrink. To ruminat on them ? or shall we think But our deserts are worse ; the good with bad Do suffer oft, for destinie is mad. Me thinks that hell broke loose, and that the Divell Had got his reynes, the actor of this eviU : O divine providence ! how could this be ? When he thats kept in chains, was now set free Is he not limitd, and thy mighty power Set to controle him, else he would devoure B Thy Times sorrowfull disaster Thy Saints, and choicelings, but belike its so Thou lets him smite, yet saves thy people tho : He could not torture Job, without commission Nor yet work here, without thy large permission : Was there no way to death, but by the rage Of a tempestuous sound ? could nought asswage Thine angrie face, God 1 but dye they must, And with a violent rapt, be throwne to dust, As Doomesday had been set, to raze the world With twinckling speed, so were they from us hurld. If done in field or battel!, it had been No cause of sorrow, lesse of weeping eyne. For Mars conceives no sturt, nor will allow His Darlings should, to peevish wayling bow. Which we must yeeld to : yet if we compare Acts past, with present, this fact must be rare. How Kings were murderd, & their Kingdoms thrown Downe to destruction, is distinctly known By pen and pensile ; and preceeding times Have left to us the reason, and their crymes. Proud PyrJms with a stone, from a weak hand Lost life and Kingdome, and his great command And Agamemnon, after ten yeares warres, Eetumd ; when done, were vanquisht PJirigian jarres, Was by his page transactd, (with a back thrust) From high bred honour, to disdainfull dust. What bloud was shed, in the Fharsalian field. Where Ccesar fought with Pompey; both did weild The accidents of fortune, for they strove To lord the earth, next to imperiall Jove ; Ccesar was victor, and that JBomane floure Lost all the world, within one dismall houre : Yet Ccesar smarts, (the Fates his doome extend) He rose with bloud, and made a bloudy end. Iwill at Dunglasse. I will not speak, of Tamberlanes great fight Five hundred thousands, put to death and flight : Nor frora the TJiebane Captaines will I bring Their bloudy Trophees, nor of Carthage sing, And her subverted Champion ; nor sackt Tyre, Nor Uions doome, shall my pen set on fire : Nor siege I Jehus, {Josephs sacred storie) Where vanquishd Jews, lost with themselves their glory. Nor of the eastern Monarchy He sing. How Philips son, was made a Persian King, And spread his wings to Ganges ; whence returnde, To Babels delicates ; where fortune spurnd. Against his pride, and by a slave (made slave) Was reft, of what he reft, nay, worse the grave. Like instances, I many could produce, But these may serve, for to shut up the sluce : Yet what of all, can aU these paraleU This horrid murder : No, I will thee tell Like villany and fact, read never man, If with the matter, you the manner scan. Traitours to Castles fled, fraught with despaire, Have blown themselves, and fortunes in the aire But that was madnesse : Voluntarie acts Are murders, the Devil constructs such facts : But this malheure, ah 1 unexpectd disdain. Came thundring forth, and with its crack they're slaine, A ravishd thing, like to a thought or gleame Of fancies fled ; so was this deed a dream. To sight and swift conceit : wondrous wonder ! And fearfull blacknesse, of a boystrous thunder, Which rent the clouds : Oh 1 what shall I report, To correspond this all-predominant tort : But stay and muse, on accidents have been, Or voluntary deeds, too often seen ; B 2 Orossd Times sorwwfull disaster Crossd ships at sea misled, by chance, or spight, Or for revenge, been vanquishd by strong fight Have blown themselves aloft. Looke for the nones, How men were burnt, and slaine, and drownde at ones : Take here the Popes armado, lately shrunk, Where seas with Papists bloud, were soundly drunk Along the Kentish shoare, till N&ptune staggerd, Whilst hyrelings on, his tumbling sides they swaggerd : We thank thee Martin Trump, thou playd a spring On thy great Trumpes, made Tritons dancers sing Spaine and Homes overthrow ; and set us free From their damnd plots, perfidious policie. I will not here insist, although I can Discusse their projects, subject, craft, and man. Then to illustrate all, take Eighty Eight, Take merchant sights, take Pirats, & more slight Take Ta/rtarets and Frigots, you shall see When stressd and clasped, how desperatly they die : This word. Give fire, transcends them through the aire Where with themselves, their foes the like doe share, And seldome failes, unlesse a distance be. The one been sackt, the other back doth flee. What of Uke accidents, they're but extreames Forcd on revenge, self-murder crownes their names With endlesse torture : But ah I this deed now done, Can not be matchd, with nought beneath the Sunne. Yet some lie point, to let you see what wounds Depend on Climats, and their sun-scorchd bounds. Then I to Earthquakes come, and deafhing thunder. Where He touch three grosse accidents of wonder, At Berat near Oastras in Languedoch, A thunder-bolt upon thee steeple broke ("The folk been fled for safetie to the Church) Full sixteen hundreds, closd within its Porch) The at Dunglasse. The steeple (stroke) fell down, and with its fall Down came the Church, the tecture, roof, and al Which smotherd the whole people : Never one Escapd that rowing shot, save twelve alone That kept at home, been sickiie, agd, and lame, And had no strength, to court this falling frame, This stone-walld town laid waste, the sequel day I came to view it, fearfull was the fray : This thundring blow feU out, on fryday morne One thousand, six hundred, and thirteen worne. From thence to Lombardie, lie quicklie trace. To Pearie, that incorprat haplesse place. Set on the river Ladishas, and closd Between two hills, the Alpes are here disclosde Which bend to Rhetiaes land : this citie crownd For Orenge, Fig, and Lemmon, was renownd : The tenth of August, and on sunday night. At eight a clock, appeard a fearfull sight : An earthquake shook the hill, above, and under : The town streets trembled, like quagmyres asunder : The rock falls from above, the towne it sunk Ingulfd within earths bosome : as it shrunk. There was none savd, not woman, man, nor childe, Nor gold, nor goods, (the truth been here instyld) Except a bell, that from the steeple brust. When it was swallowd, with a counter-thrust : The river followd on, and in it run Long five houres space, tiU all was fuU, and done Eeturnd to its own course : the BeU was found On th'other side of Ladish, dasht on ground : Three thousand lives were lost, and ly interrd, Within one grave : behold, how fortune errd. Last to Bizantium, I amazed come, To reckon on mishaps, and there's the summe, In Times sorrowfull disaster In winter (not in Harv'st the usuall time, When Terramoti court, each parched clyme) An earthquake movd, and in the town it fals, Near Bosphores side, and razd a myle of wals, Which fencd the place ; and in that glutting downe Three thousand houses, land, and sea did drowne, Which held ten thousand people : but its true, There were few Greeks, the most were Turhe and Jeiv, And so the lesser losse : I will not stand Here to expostulate (from hand to hand) How that ground was recoverd ; but it cost The great Twice more, than all was drownd and lost : But for their sepulchre, I daring swear, I never saw the like, as I saw here, Lo, this great judgement fell, in dark December, One thousand six hundred, ten, as I remember. Yet to comment on this, these incidents. Arise as Bassads, from their elements. Of fire, and aire : the one through clouds it brusts, The other choaks it, with retorting gusts : Composde of contraries, lightning, and raine, The former forcd, the sequel! addes the straine. The last as reinvestd, in earth is found,- When hollow sun-scorchd chinks, divide the ground : The winde rushd in, begets a monstrous birth. That can transplant, or raze mountaines of earth. Townes, forts, or Cittadales, transforme a lake, In heaps of sand ; so, so, the earth can quake : Not done by airt nor hand, or hellish plots, As this abortive deed (exposd on Scots) Was by the Devill devisde^ he actd his part And causd distress, with groaning Patients smart Done by Ned Paris, arraignd at the Court Of Heaven, and Earth, for this tremenduous tort Enforcd at Dunglasse. Enforcd on death. Come let thy ghost appear, To answer for thy fact, thats sifted here : Wast done of malice ? or of negligence ? If not of purpose, lesse was thine offence, ? And yet no oversight, nor carelesse minde, Can thee excuse, for that would judgeiiaent blind ; No, its not so, thy bloudy oathes and curses Bewrayd thy drift ; thy foure times mounting horses, That after noon : and still would flee, yet stayd, The train was laid, but thou the fact delayd, TiU thy Lords comming back, with knights and gentry Wherein the inner Court, just at the entrie. To mount the stairs, there, there, thou smote thy maister And many Gallants with that damnd disaster : Which in thy looks was seen, ere it was done. Mischief hung in. thy face, that afternoone. With railing, swearing, cursing, boasting some, (Whom thou affectd) to haste soon to their home : And yet one scapd, whom thy menacing throat Did spur away, the greater his good lot. The stable keeper there, Will Paterson, That did attend, thee then, set me this down. But lie come near, and try more strict conclusions, Basemindes ill set, are fosters of confiisions ; Then what meant that irne ladle in thine hand Tane from the Kitchin hot (0 hels fyrebrand 1) Whence to the magazin, thou kept thy way. Where eighteen hundred weight of powder lay. Of which thou hadst the charge, and onely thou Came onely there : what ? did thy Lord bestow On thee that trust, and durst thou play the knave To kill thy Maister : Vile opprobious slave, Mad were thy brains, and still were known for madnesse All times absurd, and rammage in thy badnesse : A great Times sorrowfull disaster A great blasphemer of Gods name, and more Thy proverb was, Devill damne me, there's the gore, That slew thee with that slaughter : cm-sde wretch I And wicked drudge how could thou this way stretch Thy cruel hands, was there no pittie left To save the saiMesse ? was thou so far reft, (0 senslesse sot) from reason and respect Of men and Master, that thou wouldst infect The earth and aire with murder : Oft I said To thine and my consorts, this English blade Is neither sound nor civil : I how can His Lord give trust, to such a frantick man : A daily drunkard, sotting here and there, Led with deboshrie, and infernall care. Another thing condemnes thee, that same night, An houre before the deed, in deep despight, Thou wouldst not give to souldiers, match, nor ball, Nor powder, save two shots : And worst of aU. These Carabines thou chargd, and didst deliver To Trowpers were half chargd : nor seldome ever Had half of them flint stones : their bals were choakd Half raches downe, and could not be revokd, Nor shot undread, though time and place cravd aid, Bred from that Barwich fray, was there defrayd. Thy speech disclosd thy spight, thy rammage looke And glooming browes, gave signes (if not mistook) Of unafronted drifts : Thy grumbling words. And chattring lips, were sharper far then swords. Which erst had been more calme : this tale was thine. Some Scots ere long should smart, as they, at Tine, Which wore the Papall badge : which thou performd, Whe that brave house, with thy cursd hads thou stormd. Which was made known to some three dayes before The deed was done, it would be done, and more These at Dunglasse. These news from Barwich came, and many heare it, But could not know the manner how to feare it : Which shows it was devisd, and sought, and wrought By Traitours in both lands, ere it was brought To such a dreadfuU passe. How this Wretch livd, Doubtlesse some had, in both the Kingdomes grievd. And lost their Hydra necks : Now lie returne To cavell with the Traitour, and this turne. Thy body in three parts, sore tome was found And one of them thy legge, which on the ground, Lay twelve weeks hid 'mongst stones, and this I saw Two swyne its flesh, from thy cursde bones did gnaw A just and loathsome sight : In thy left hand The irne ladle stuck fast ; the grip and band Was hard and sure, that scarce one man coidd throw The ladle from thy fingers ; there's a blow. Would God before Breda, that thou hadst died Three yeares ago, where thou wast vilifyed With every souldier ; then this wofull deed Had not been done, nor such deep grievance spread In honest hearts, vyle barbarian harbour. And son of a poore Porter, could thou harbour So deadly damnd disdain, as for to kill All kinde of sex, in thy most scelerat Ul : Nay, could not spare thy self ; had thou no wit To save thy self and flee, when time thought fit. Away unhappie beast, what shall I conster ? But curse thy birth, bred for a murdring monster : Did not thy Maister cloath thee, Kke a Knight, And stuff thy purse with gold : thanklesse wight ! His love thy life abusde, whilst drunken snake. The Tavern turnd thy Church ; did thou forsake The law of duetie, but curst Malandrine, Thy brain-sickpate, must run on his ruine. C Might Times sorrowfuU disaster Might not seven yeares twice o're command thy part. To honour his familiar noble heart : Were ever any knew him, but admyrd How his rich minde, was with great gifts inspyrd, And hardinesse of Heart ; Lord W, W. may, Eecall that combat, of his vanquishd day : And could this Euffian, th' abject of a Traitour, Injure so high a sprite, so kynde a Nature. And yet he lives, (so great was his good name) Christs Martyr, truths mirrour, faiths soul-plight fame The cause was good he dyed for, but the fact And parracide, was hateful!, here's the tract. inhumane ! most execrable deed ! So barbrous neckt, with a Cyclopian head, Framd like Enceladus ; that thrice me thinks, He's worse than Villane, at this murder winks. What heathnick, or what Pagane ? savage bloud What infidel ? could have provd half so rude As this cursde cative, Englands Monster borne. That with the fact, left life and soul forlorne. What Jamnite ? or what Sabunck ? garlick slaves Would not to nature stoupe ? whose light conceaves A tender kindnesse, to conserve the race Of mankinde, Vertue, having the first place : But this Cerherian snake, had no regard To great nor small, like doome was never heard As he decreed : ah ! I want words and breath For to detect this Charon, and their death. But he like Erostratus would aspire, That set Dianas Temple in a fire, To purchase flyiug fame : So frantick he In this Catastrophe, would living be, Which I adhere to, and for longer time, He fix on brasse, his filthy fact and cryme. If at Dunglasse, If any be suspectd, more than this wretch, Let justice, and sound judgement to it stretch, And let our Parliament, sift and search out The plot, the man, the guilt, if there be doubt. For common fame I leave't, and for like torts, Of tortring tongues, lie not build on reports. Why ? thats absurd to follow flying fame, Its deep experience, reares up truth a Name. Now He return to my Pathetick style, And mourne with mourning Ladies grievd the while. For losse of their dear husbands ; pale woe 1 When two made one, the knot dissolves in two, Rent by the Fates, egregious whirling rage, And not by frequent death, done by a Page, And quintiscencd Saltpeter : who can J Their melancholy mindes, in sadnes scan J Each soul reserves its grief, each hath like losse, For life there's death, for comfort sorrows cross A common woe ; peculiar to each one Graft, and engraves, a sympathizing moane : First, thou great Dame, thryce noble by thy birth, Sprung from a princely stock : what tongue on earth With words can swage thy woes ? thy sorrows show, From heart-grown grief, that foule pernicious blow, Attachd fore thee : thy face, thy food, thy rest, And sleep denote, how thy sad soul's opprest With helplesse care : whilst scarcely half a year Did thou enjoy this dearest Jewell, thy Dear : Great was that love, thy loving Hadington Bore to thy soul : thy love again did crowne His fixt respect : By which your tender hearts Knit up in one, made love act both your parts : That Hymen blushd (the god of sacred rites) To see how love involvd in one, two sprites : C 2 And Times sorrowfull disaster And why ? no wonder, both alike excelld, The one the other, in goodnesse paralelld, He spoke, you snuld, he winkd, & you conceivd His mentall scope, what great content receivd Your nmtuall intents, whilst demonstration Eeciprocat, brought Pathos one oblation : And yet he left thee, not to live alone, But left thee his fair Phenix, being gone. A pledge of comfort, representing still His face, thy stamp, his heart, thy love, his will. like Penolope 1 if thou couldst spinne A daily threed, and that same threed untwinne, Till he turnd back, so that the fates had sworne Thy pennance should be, twentie winters borne, And he redeemd : But stay sad Muse returne, Galld grief and love, can not together mourne. Two passions, two extreams, and here I finde, They're violent rapts, in either of each kinde. Away with Didoes stroke, Lucretiaes smart, Faire Hieroes thrust, Palmeniaes fataU dart, Which grim despaire (not love) forcd them to act Their self sought murder, in a tragick fact : Call, call to mind ! Gods providence, and see Nought comes to passe, without heavens high decree, Which mortals must embrace : then Lady spare Thy ruthlesse grief, lay on the Lord thy care. And ye the rest, deare Ladies in your kindes. Let sorrow smart, take comfort, lift your mindes Above all worldly crosses ; you shall see, The length of dayes ; hence soules eternitie In endlesse peace : Cast all your griefe on God, He can release, and chasten, bruise the rod. Lo, deepest streames, in smoothest silence slyde, Whilst Channels roar, so shallow mourners glyde, With at Dunglasse. With words at will, but mighty cares sit dumbe, Like livelesse corps, laid in a livelesse Tombe : Whence moistned vapours, forcd from humid woes Lye in oblivion terrd. And now to close, As quickly went their soules to heaven, we hope, As their lives quickly fled : the traitours scope Was set on murder : but their Angels watchd And caught their sprites, as with a twinkling catchd To Paradise : Where now thrice blest they be. With glorie crownde ; heires of eternitie. And endlesse joyes : for they as Martyres died. And now sweet souls, with triumphs dignified : Set up' mongst Hierarchies, of sacred sprites. That to their blest societie, them invites, To seale their Martyredome, in Jesus hand Cled with his righteousnesse : Who can demand A better state ? then face for face, to face, The face of faces, in that glorious place ; Where Saints and Martyres, environing rQund, The old Eternall, with the joyfull sound Of Aleluhiaes, sing before the throne Holy, holy, Lord, to Heavens holy One, The Lambe of God, hembd in with burning glore, Praise, might, dominion, Majestic, and power : Where they (thrice hopefull happie) ever blest. Are crownd and raigne, in long eternall rest. So, so forbear, ye who keep grief in store, Take up your crosse, and for them mourne no more, Times sorrowfull disaster And now foUoweth the names of the moft part of them that died at Dun- glajfe, the penult of Auguft, 1640. fo farre as poflibly the Author could collect by ferious inftruction, and diverfe informations, both of the vulgars, and better fort. THomas Earle of Hadington. Robert Hammilton of Binny his brother. Master Patrick Hammilton, his naturall brother. Sir Alexander Hammilton of Law field. Sir John Hammilton of Redhouse. Colonel ErsMne, son to John late Earl of Mar. John Keith, son to George late earle Marshall. Sir Gideon Baillie of Lochend. Laird of Ingilstoun elder. Laird of Gogor elder. A lexandcr Moore, heritour of Skimmer. John Gate Minister at Bunchle. Niniane Chimeside in Aherladie. James Sterling Lieutenant. Alexander Cuningham Lieutenant. David Pringle Barbour Chirurgion. Robert Faulconer, Sergeant. George Vach, Haddingtons Purveyer. John White Plaistrer, an English man. William Symington, Lochends servant. George Neilson in Alhamstocks. Jam£s Cuningham in Hadington. John at Dunglasse. John Manderstoun. Mattheio Forrest. Patrick Batie. Alaster Drummond, alias Crundamore John Campbell. John Idington. James Foord, John Arnots post boy. John Orre. Andrew Braidie. John Tillidaff, John Keith, a childe. Womeu five. Margaret Arnot, daughter to the Postmaister at Oock- burnspeth. Marjorie Dikson, John Keiths servant. Marion Gamecrosse. Aleison Gray. With twelve bore armes, whose names I could not ken, Souldiers for time, not mercenary men : The rest (unfound) ly terrd, corps, clothes, and bones Under huge heaps of glutinated stones. Lo, I have done, as much as lay in me, To try the truth, and blaze it, Ukes it thee, Ime pleasde : if not, a figge for Carpers checks, Whose chattring spight, the rule of reason brecks. And now to close, let Criticks of all ranks. Convince their censures, and yeeld me kinde thanks For what gain I, save labour, pains, and cost, To show the living, how the dead were lost. FINIS. SCOTLANDS PAR^NESIS To Her Dread Soveraign, KING CHARLES THE SECOND. Mens Scotiae. All Presbyterians, pure, sincere and true. Afflicted by that Independent crue, Are here untouch' d, and are declar'd to be Joyn'd in the League and Covenant with me. Printed in the Year, 1660. SCOTLANDS PARjENESIS To her dread Soveraign, KING CHAELES The Second. COme to thy Land, my long'd for Soveraign, And here in safety and in honour raign : Come to these bounds, where, of thy royal Stem, Ten and One hundred wore the Diadem : Disperse griefs cloudy frowns, to me restore Those Halcion dayes which I enjoy'd before, When by his presence, my late gracious King, Transcending pleasure to my coasts did bring, And all my minions joyntly did expresse Their boundlesse comfort, and my joyes excesse. Eaign with those joy'd enduraents from above, Th' Almighties blessing, and thy Subjects love. Raign and live long. Thou period of my pleasure My joyes triumph, the sum of all my treasure. Best of my thoughts, center of my delight Raign, as a beam of beauty shining bright From heavens aspect : Eaign in all Royal parts A King of men, a conquerour of hearts. Raign, let Jehovds will model'd in heaven In gold characters, on thy Throne be graven. Of Piety and Justice ; to enable Thee to defend the one and other Table. Raign, Scotland's Lyon to the worlds end out, Who dare presume to call thy Power in doubt. A 2 In the Authors twled, Scot- lands welcome • to KING GEARLES in Anno, 1633. Raign, (4) Raign, and triumph throughout great Britons soyle In spight of all envenom'd breasts that boyle With hell-hatch'd malice, in that neighbour ground, Wherein excesse of raigning sins abound, Raign, and that Land from vipers venome clenge, So shall that motto hold, Raign and Revenge. A guard from heaven have hedg'd thee so about, That thee to harme all furies stand in doubt : For why ? That All-sufficient hath prepard, Emplumed squadrons for thy surest guard. But that thy Throne unmoved still may stand, Let true Religion flourish in thy Land, Pure and sincere, in freedome and in truth, Bedrest, reform'd, from Gods own Heraulds mouth, Let King Josias, and thy Grandsire be, Examplare types and speaking maps to thee : He with his Royall Robes his heart did rent, For the neglect of Gods blest Covenant, Then caus'd the same be read, and sworn to all. Who in the limits of this Land did dwell : 158] . So from the year our blessed Lord was born. Our Covenant by good King James was sworn, 1684. And was confirmed after some few years To all his Household, and his noble Peers : And now of late, Seign'd and redintegrate, By all the loyall Subjects of our State : Let Head and Body then in one accord, To Seign, Swear, keep our Covenant with the Lord : And as my Patriots dear, of each degree. Are sworn to maintain Authoritie, So shall they joyn, and strive even all as one To re-install thee in thy Fathers Throne ; Of Vipers brood th'infected soyle to clenge, And make that antheme sound, Raign and Revenge. The great Avenger shall revenge my cause, And make these Monsters feel the Lyons pause, Who by one fact the worst of acts have done, Unparallel'd as yet beneath the Moon, Yet (5 ) Yet palliate with Justice cloak that so, Those men by Justice, Justice should ov'rthrow. With raigning sins all Israels Kings were stain'd, Even from the time that Jeroboam raign'd, With Rapine, Violence, Murther, Sorcery, And all did act accurs'd Idolatry: Yet none of them by Statute were depos'd, Or to a publike censure once expos'd, Arraign'd, condemn'd, or struke by Justice hands, Within the Cities of these bordering Lands : But when their vicious raigns and lives were ended. Their sons or kins-men to their thrones ascended. Raign and Revenge the breach of faith by those My feigned friends, but most pernicious foes : Base skurrill rogues, by Satans angels sent, To swear and scorn the League and Covenant : Cameron Monsters, mingling truth with lies : Stain'd with these colours of repugnancies, Proud Babels tenents seeming first to hate, But now like Babel ruling Kirk and State : Bishops Hierachies sworn to suppresse, In Churoh- Now like Erastus Anarchy professe ; Government. My Presbyterial Church-government, Though seeming to maintain. They disassent : They seem'd t'extirpate Schisms and Sectaries, But now they tolerate old coyn'd Heresies : And worst of all, if any worse can be. They strive to break the neck of Monarchie, And trample on their Princes, whom before They seem'd with Civil Worship to adore : And Englands Peers they levell with the ground Of locusts base born swarms, which there abound A swarme of Brownists, fond Separatists, Proud Antinomians, wilfull Erastists, Old Levellers, monsters Inhabitants, Last worst of all, that crue of Independants, In whose infected souls these tares are sown. And to a full perfection lately grown, As (6 ) As Superstition, Schism, Heresie, Tyrannie, Profainnesse, and Idolatrie, Hypocrisie, a sin the last on earth, Matth. 7. 22. Which shall revive in Judgement after death. O then how many plagUes have they deserv'd ? What grievous torments are to them reserv'd ? Who in a desprat way, have hatch'd such evils, As are of new suggested by the devils. Who first, damn'd Atheists, trarapled have upon The sacred Statutes of the holy One. Next in a furious, but a fond conceate, Englands time scorning Lawes have abrogate : And strive if they had power as will, to wound Even Nature's frame, and all the world confound. The King of Kings first Monarch's did install, And daign'd them by the name of Gods to call. To show that earthly Powers Sovereign, Have all their power from him, by whom Kings raign ; Moses the meek, from Heaven, and not by chance, Had rule in chief ov'r Gods Inheritance, And was als absolute, in all degrees As any that bear rule in Monarchies : Witnesse rebellious Korah, with his mates, And many murmurers their Confederates : The first by a miraculous sort of death, Were quick up-swallowed in the opening earth ; Then fourteen thousand, and seven hundreth mo, To Pluto's boures did in a moment go. And for all hatching treason in their breast Against their Prince, and Gods anointed Priest. Revenge, The Lord shall from his store-house bring More grievous plagues on those that kill's a King. Arise, O Lord, stretch forth thy pow<;rfull hand, Against the Justice-Juglers of that Land. Joshua to Moses for his valourous deeds, As Israels Monarch, by Gods will succeeds ; Who from his sacred mouth that choise did breath, Menacing rebels with assured death. Kext ( 7 ) Next after Joshva, Judges were sole Princes, Who did govern all Palestines provinces, Till that unconstant Israel then neglected And crav'd a King, was not then Said elected By Gods appointment and expresse command ? And then anointed by the Prophets hand : Young David next, Gods Minion, was install'd, And from a sheep crook to a Scepter call'd ; That from his loynes, a Virgin and a Mother Should bear her Son, her Father, and her Brother. Now give me leave a little to digresse. And of that Plant this Antithese expresse : Though call'd the Father of Eternitie ; That we Gods sons the Son of man would be : He daign'd 'mongst beasts, be born low in a cell. That high in Heav'n men might with Angels dwell : And though the word, yet child-like stammer would, That to their Gods men might speak uncontroul'd : The glorious Monarch of the World was poor, That heavens rich store he might to man procure ; Hungry he was, this with his Man-hood stood. That men might feed on heaven descending food : The precious Spring of Life for ever blest. That we should drink his streames would suffer thirst ; In end, the Life, th'eternall King would die, That we should live and raign eternally. But to our purpose, Monarch's here below, Can neither Chartor, Seal, nor Seasing show Of their demaines, the Scepter, Sword and Crown, And sacred oyl which from the heaven came dowi Are symbols of their holdings from above, Joyn'd with Gods blessing, and their peoples love. Together with a Line of long succession. And benefit of many years possession. They are, and were of all Endictments free. And Judged by their Peers they cannot be. As Gods Vice-gerents answering to none. But to that King who rules and raigns alone. But (8 ) But if it be their fate to be detain'd In firmance long, and in a Court araign'd ; It is the will of God that so should be, p 1 in? in ^''° poureth down contempt on Majesty : Job. 12, 21. 'Tis for our sins the Lord will have it so, That strength curb Law, force Justice overthrow. Try Times, Eecords, which to our knowledge brings, The reverence and respect we owe to Kings ; David from dales to rockie deserts mounted, By cruel Saul was like a Partridge hunted. And had no time to rest, nor scarce to breath, Affrighted with the fear of present death : And though he had him twise caught in a snare. Was counsell'd twise, his life no more to spare ; Yet said, who dares stretch forth his murthering hand, Against the Lords Anointed of the Land And guiltlesse be, though branded with the crimes Of Tyrants, who have liv'd in worst of Times ; 'Tis better far a Tyrant known should raign. In any soil, nor want a lawfull King. . , ™ Yea though an Infidel, we should obey. Confession of -And for his honour and his safety pray : Faith, c. 23 : The Jews, both Priest and People, all as one. Are bidden serve the King ot Babylon ; Pray for that Cities peace, though there they be Detain'd and kept in long captivitie. So in our Lord and his Apostles time, Tiber Four Tyrants rul'd in all the Syrian clime, Caligula. He bids give Ccesar what is CcBsars own, Claudius. ^jjj being tax'd, have by example shown That due obedience should to Kings be given, Who are though Tyrants, authoriz'd from heaven. Saint Paul what's due to higher Powers preacheth. Obedience to Kings Saint Peter teacheth, To Masters all, and froward though they prove, They should be serv'd with due respect and love, A prosperous, fortunate, and happy crime, Was call'd a glorious vertue for the time ; O (9 ) but suspend your judgment for a space, And ye shall find a change in fortunes face, Which shall ov'rcloud these flatterings rayes of light, And turn them to a sad tempestuous night ; Of treacherous Traitours such shall be the chance, Who though at first they seem to have some glance Of Halcion dayes, from fortunes raying face : But sist a while ; ye shall not find the place Of their abode, all but repentance shall Here be confounded, and condemn'd in hell : Revenge, good Lord, and such black sorrowes bring On those vile Traitours who have killed a King. Great Ccesar did subvert the Roman State, And to himself th'Empire did mancipate. Who would but think that Brute and Cassius part With all the rest that stob'd him to the heart Was just, since that by fraud and policie. He did ov'rturn Homes ancient libertj'^ ; O ! but behold, that Senats tragick cace, They all were slain, within a three years space. And some themself, with that self blade did kill. Wherewith they lately Ccesars blood did spill. A modern Divine, glossing on this act, Confest that Ccesars proud ambitious fact Was first unjust, but when the Senate call'd him Somss great Dictatour, and had once install'd him, It was high Treason, to stretch forth their hand Against that man who did in Chief command Now as a Monarch, so that all the blood Of those was justly shed, who him withstood. Then doth God favour Ethnick Princes cace. Though alians from the Covenant of Grace, Redresse their wrongs, confound their enemies, Detect and punish lewd conspiracies Hatch'd and fomented in a Trait'rous brain, And shall he not the fire of vengeance rain On that damn'd race ? Who in a tracherous mood. Hath dyed their hands in Gods Vice-gerents blood. B And ( 10 ) And then by show of Justice trampled down Englands old Lawes ; have taken Head and Crown Frona my blest Charles, who now in Glory sings Unceasing Pceans to the King of Kings ; Whose life a mirrour was of these blest three, Keligion, Justice, and Sobrietie To God, to Man, and to himself, three Graces Which now are heard, seen, shining in all places, And shall remain transcending and entire Till this great Fabrick be consum'd with fire, Now since that Monarch's are by God elected. Let no man deem, that people dis-affected Can loose the reins of their Government, Or from their Line the Crown and Kingdom rent. Excepting few, for Europes Monarchies Are now subsisting of these four degrees, Kings absolute. By Conquest, by Election, Conditionall for favour and protection, The first two branches meerly Soverain, By wavering subjects can no change sustain. The latter two not being of my strain. It suites not here, nor can I now explain The first two Powers, as their prerogative. The Father dead do in the Son survive. For now what State being parallel'd with mine, Hath so stand, out against the waves of time. Alexander. For whiles that Grecian had subdu'd the Eas'' And Monarch like in Babylon was plac'd, The raign of my first Valiant Fergus than, From God, and not by chance of War began, Three hundreth years and fourty past and gone Before our Lord took humane Nature on. Eiigland from Williams Stock of many Kings, Us-ward in Line, to Charles the Second springs : Ireland, in like sort, by a Conquest long Deriv'd, doth to their Lord and King belong ; Though Commons acting on a tragick Stage, A' thing unheard in any former age, Under ( 11 ) Under pretext of Jugling-Justice hands, Have put to death the Soveraign of those Lands, And in that Burley Court, would change the frame Oi Englands Statutes, would root out the steme Of former Kings, and have without consent Of King or Peers, acted a Parliament. A Parliament is raodel'd by the figure Of a strong man, standing in force and vigoure With sword in hand, menacing death to those Who dare Gods will, or Subjects well oppose : Whereof the King is head : the Peers the heart: The Commons Members, and th'inferiour part : How comes it then, shall such a monster made Of basest parts, rule without heart or head ? God will stir up all Christians, Kings, and States, In my revenge to be confederates, And with me joyn, this dismal case is theirs, Which may befal to them or to their heirs. Crowns are in play, a Monarch is become, The pannel'd Subject of base Commons doome. Up, let your Navies, and your Royal Hoasts, Strike sail, land, vapour on the English Coasts, Display your Ensignes, Princely Standards rear : First strike with terrour, and a panick fear Those bloudy Gemsters, who have trampled down The Head, and made a stage plaj- of the Crown. Then shall we find them out forth from their dens. From mountains, plains, from dales, and moorish fens, Or where that Crue of Traitours may be found ; We shall their rampiers level with the ground : Their Strengths and Forts, since levelling they crave From strong engines, let them such level have As we impart : Let Justice then have place, Till shee have quite cut off that cursed race. But if incens'd with fury they defie us. And rang'd in squadrons have resolv'd to try us, The worlds great Judge, no doubt in whom we trust. Shall be our safeguard as our cause is just : Thu ( 12 ) Thus shall our courage taught by wit and skill, Skill arm'd by courage, both by power and will, Make English ground incrimson'd with the blood, Of that Schismatick Independant brood : So what once Caesar, we may say the same Truely, we came, we saw, we overcame And routed all, none shall escape our wrath, But all shall die a just deserved death : And Peace shall be proclaim'd in all those Lands, Which now are purg'd by our victorious hands : Then shall I still my King, young Charles Maigne, And change that motto, thus Triumph and Raigne. Epilog US. ANd thou great King of Kings who rules above, By whom Kings raign, by whom they live and move, Moisten my soveraigns soul with showrs of grace. That with him we may breath the aire of Peace Raying with Truth ; that here he may secure, Thy Divine Worship true, sincere and pure : So shall we praise Thee, who for ever raigns, And whose transcending Power all Power sustains. FINIS.