BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Henrg M. Sage 1 891 fS,l>M3%.3L g.>^\3ir[^5, '~'"^"~ 3I77 Cornell University Library PR 3736.T78Z8 Henry Tubbe 3 1924 013 202 803 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013202803 Volume I. ELIZABETHAN ROGUES AND VAGA- BONDS AND THEIR REPRESENTATION IN CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE. BY FRANK AYDELOTTE. Volume II. ANGLO-ROMAN RELATIONS, i j 5 8-1 j w Q Pi < X u p4 N > ■Sfi (U o .n c s (u O 0^ !3 V O W "1 C « c o > a'-' a, S-3 o S^ a o ^ a m O ■« E rf S H j3 a h o i*=^ MOO - aj flj fl» l-H (U t> CO c § O .S O 3 U II ^ ° CO Pi ^S'S B 2 4 HENRY TUBBE Lord Southampton's seat Titchfield'was near Southampton, and in this town John Tubbe apparently began his married life. His wife had probably belonged to Lord Southampton's household, and it was probably after Lord Southampton (who may have been his godfather) that Henry Tubbe was named. His godmother at any rate was Southampton's daughter, Lady Penelope Wriothesley, then (in 1618) already married to William, Lord Spencer of Wormleighton. Lord Spencer, Lord Southampton, and the third Lord Essex were at this time in the same political camp. They are all mentioned by Arthur Wilson in his list of 'gallant spirits that aimed at the public liberty more than their own interest',^ they stood, that is, for what came to be called the Country Party as opposed to the Party of the Court. So far as we know, Henry Tubbe was the eldest child of his parents, and their only other child was another son, Robert Hay Tubbe. His mother's will suggests that this boy took his first name from Robert, Earl of Essex. Whether the name ' Hay ' was given him in compliment to James Hay, created, by James I, Viscount Doncaster and Earl of Carlisle, I cannot say. At that time it was so unusual to give a child two Christian names that one looks naturally for a reason for such a proceeding. We have seen that John Tubbe was in the Low Countries with Lord Southampton in 1613, and he had probably fought in the War of the Palatinate for some years before he met his death in 1635. Lord Essex commanded a company of three hundred men in an expedition sent in aid of the King of Bohemia in the summer of i6ao. He returned to England at Christmas, but was at once put on a council of war to advise measures for the r^overy of the Palatinate. No English expedition being possible that year, Essex returned to the Continent alone about June i6ai to serve as a volunteer under (without the postscript) by Sawyer, Memorials of Affairs of State . . .front the , . .papers of Sir R. JVinwood {iy2S), vol. iii, No. 372, p. 475. * Quoted in Lives of the Devereux, ii, p. 289. Among the sixteen popular noblemen named by the King in September, 1640, to treat with the Scots at Ripon were the Earls of Hertford, Essex, Holland, and Warwick. Lord Spencer was dead by this time. INTRODUCTION 5 Maurice, Prince of Orange. In the summers of 162a and 1623 he was abroad again in the service of Prince Maurice. Early in 1624 Parliament voted ;£^ 300,000 for the reconquest of the Palatinate. Four regiments of one thousand five hundred men each were equipped and sent into Holland under the command of the Earls of Oxford, Essex, and Southampton, and Lord Willoughby. If Captain Tubbe had not been with Essex earlier, we may be sure that he was with the force now sent out. Unfortunately, Prince Maurice made little use of the assistance given him from England. He suffered Spinola to invest Breda, and himself failed in an attempt to surprise Antwerp. Lord Southampton and his son Lord Wriothesley were among the many English who fell victims to fever in the course of the winter. Prince Maurice himself died in the spring. His brother Henry, who succeeded him in the com- mand, was as rash as Maurice had been over-cautious. In an over-daring attempt to relieve Breda, early on May 15, 1625, the brunt of the attack fell on the English contingent under Sir Horace Vere and Lord Oxford. They were repulsed with heavy loss, and Captain Tubbe (whom we may safely identify with Henry Tubbe's father) was struck by small-shot and died soon afterwards of his wounds.^ Lady Spencer speaks of Henry's father in after years as having been ' a man of extraordinary learning and valour '. Neither Lord Essex nor Lord Southampton were engaged in this attempt, but if they had any special interest in Captain Tubbe's family before, they would feel that it had a still greater claim on them after he had perished valiantly in the service of his country. Captain Tubbe's widow seems to have moved after his death from Southampton to Croydon. She is described as ' Anne Tubb of Croydon, Widow ', in her will made on October 30, 1629.^ She here bequeaths, 'to my younger sonne Robert Tubbe one hundreth markes ... to be paid to the Right honourable Robert Earle of Essex, humbly beseechinge his lordshippe to cause it to bee disposed of to the best advantage of the child as in his wisedome and iudgment he shall thinke * See Appendix, p. 62. ' Now at Somerset House, ' Prer. Court of Cant. loo Ridley '. 6 HENRY TUBBE fitt . . . to my now servant Richgen CornelHs five pounds and all my weareing apparrell and a good paire of sheets ... to my eldest sonne Henry Tubbe all the rest of my goods ready money Jewells Rings Linnen . . . whom I make sole executor' ... (If either die before 21) 'the longest survivor shall enjoy the remainder of their estates. ... I desire my loving friends Mr. William Beeston and Mr. Samuell Bernard to bee Overseers and I doe charge my sonne Henry upon my blessinge to bee ordered and directed by them.' The will was witnessed by Robert Deringe and Charles Rogars. Mrs. Tubbe must have died within a week or two after making it, as on November 19, 1629, a commission was granted to the two overseers named to administer her estate during the minority of Henry Tubbe. Accordingly the two brothers were left orphans at Croydon when Henry was only eleven and Robert still younger. Mr. Samuel Bernard, Vicar of Croydon,^ whom their mother had made one of the overseers of her will, now became their guardian and faithfully executed his trust. It is likely enough that he took the two boys into his vicarage, unless Robert passed at once into the care of Lord Essex. We know from the record of Henry's admission to St. John's College that for seven years he was at the Free School of Croydon — no doubt that founded by Archbishop Whitgift — and that his master was Mr. Webbe. He must, therefore, have been entered there a year or more before his mother's death. Some Latin letters addressed by Henry Tubbe to Dr. Bernard and included in the Harleian MS. were evidently written before the writer left school. They show the affectionate gratitude which he felt towards his guardian and his eager craving to go to a University. On June a, 1635, as we have seen, his wish was granted. He was admitted as a pensioner to St. John's College, Cambridge (which, it may be remarked, had been the College ' Samuel Bernard (Berks.) was matriculated from Magdalen College, Oxford, in 1607, B.A. 1610, M.A. 1613, B.D. 1620-1, D.D. 1638-9, Vicar of Croydon 1624 to 1643, when he was deprived and retired to his house at Waddon, Croydon. He died in 1657. He was the author of the play Andronicus Comnenus (MS. Sloane, 1767) acted in Magdalen, 26 Jan., 1617^8. From 1617 to 1624 he was master of Magdalen College School. INTRODUCTION 7 of Henry, Lord Southampton), his surety or tutor being Mr. Maisterson. On July 9, 1635, he was matriculated as a member of the University, and four months later was elected a Foundation Scholar of his College. His declaration written by himself is still preserved in the College books : ' Novemb. 4to 1635. Ego Henricus Tubbe Southamp- toniensis iuratus sii et admissus in discipulum huius coUegij pro Domina ffundatrice.' He took the degree of B.A. in 1638^9, and that of M.A. in 164a. It seems likely that he resided in Cambridge for the whole of these seven years. If he needed monetary assis- tance in addition to his scholarship, it was probably found for him by Frances, Countess (from 1640 Marchioness) of Hertford, sister of Lord Essex, and Penelope, Lady Spencer, his godmother, sister of Thomas, Lord Southampton. Both in 1642 and in 1643 Tubbe's noble patrons made efforts to induce the College to elect him to a Fellowship. In both years the College found itself unable to comply with the requests made to it.^ In the former year the request came in a joint letter from the Earls of Essex and Warwick, dated March 18. They speak of Tubbe as a Bachelor of Arts, and one of the scholars of the College, and say that having taken notice of his 'sober and studious carriage' they re- commend 'so hopefull a yong man', whose election would ' encourage him to continue his studyes, which otherwise for want of meanes are like to sinke.' This letter was backed by one from the Earl of Holland, then Chancellor of the University. The College replied to Lord Holland 'At our late election there was but one place empty, and that, too, at the disposing of the yet breathing founder '^ and to Lord Warwick, ' although your Commendation, Sir, can create worth wheresoever it pleases, nevertheles at our late election wee could not requite such merrit with the guift of this ' Copies of the letters here referred to are preserved among the muni- ments of St. John's College. I am indebted to the Master for giving me access to them. ' The Fellow admitted on March 27 was on the foundation of John Williams, Bishop of Lincoln. 8 HENRY TUBBE soe-much-sought for poverty.' Next year the appeal to the College came from Penelope, Lady Spencer. It was in the following terms : Reverend S' I have had frequent notice of the soher carriage of Henry Tubbe sometymes Schollar of your Hoose; & desire that you will be pleased to continue your favour towards him ; being veryly perswaded that noe willfuU neglect shall make him vncapable of any preferment. I must confesse that I have noe particuler relacion to your Colledge being both a stranger & a Woman. But since a Royall Rady [sic] was your Foundresse you shall give me leave to wish well to any that live within her Walks. And though I have noe intimate acquaintance there, yet in regard that my deare father that was, & my brother that now is, Earle of Southhamton were both incorporated in the same place I think I may without any prejudice challenge a little influence of power over you. Besides I dare professe myselfe a friend in generall to all Schollars & can heartily pray for theire happines in this dismall time of the world. My earnest desire therefore is that you will be pleased to beare a favorable respect vnto him, (whose father was a man of extraordinary learning & valour) and I am confident that he will ever study to deserve it. In the assurance whereof towards him I remaine Your loving freind, P, Spencer London March 15, 1642. To the Right WorJ"'°*i Doctor Beale M"^. of St. Johns Colledge in Camb. & to the Senior fellows of the sam Colledge.' The College replied as follows : Madam We are very glad to read the good opinion which your Honour professes of Mr. Tubbe. Indeed we knew him long sine to be both civill and studious. But it is an extraordinary happines (especially now when Calumnie may say what she will, & be beleived too) to have soe noble Testimony as is yours. Concerning our favour which you request for him hee has ever had it in a fayre expression, but if the intent of your Honours letter was particularly for a fellowshippe (as we conceive it was) then, wee must humbly, tell you that the hands of our Courtisyes are tyed by such strayt statutes. INTRODUCTION 9 that they can not sometymes reach to all those in whome we may happily find a hopefull vertue. Soe it fell out at our late Election : there being more Mandatory letters granted (and these are statutes to us for the present) then were places voyd. We trust therefore, you will not blame us, if we did not grant what was out of our power. Solemnly protesting that the Lady Daughter and sister to two such honorable Earles shall (though wee did not consider her personall vertues) ever command the utmost service of Your Honours very faithfully devoted From S*. Johns in Cambr. : May 5, 1643. The seven years which we may imagine Tubbe to have spent at Cambridge were the years of political excitement which ended with the outbreak of civil war. His own tutor Henry Maisterson probably had Puritan leanings, as he held his place after the purging of the University by the Earl of Manchester in 1644 and was appointed a Senior Fellow of the College in 1647. But St. John's generally was the most royalist college in the University. It numbered among its Fellows the intrepid John Cleveland, whose satires on Roundheads, Scots, and Puritans served as models to Tubbe when in after years he essayed the r61e of a royalist poet. The Master of the College was William Beale, who had shown himself in sympathy with Laud by beautifying the College Chapel at great expense, and who drew on himself and the College the special enmity of Cromwell when the College plate was sent to the King (August 164a). He was ejected and imprisoned and eventually died in exile at Madrid. After the formation of the Eastern Counties Association Cambridge was at the mercy of the Parliamentary Party. Early in 1643 the colleges were exposed to the violence and the robberies of soldiers — soldiers were quartered in their walls, part of St. John's was used as a prison, the Grove of Jesus College was cut down, college chapels were wantonly desecrated. Still greater havoc was wrought in the chapels a year later by Will Dowsing. Fellows of colleges who lo HENRY TUBBE refused to take the Covenant were ejected wholesale in 1644 — twenty-nine, including Cleveland, from St. John's alone. Whether Tubbe was still in residence when these later events took place is a matter of doubt ; at any rate he saw the rise of the storm, and, from what we know of him after- wards, we cannot doubt that he grew ever more fixed in his attachment to Church and King and in his hostility to their enemies. Many of the leading actors on both sides must have passed before his eyes. The Elector Palatine visited Cambridge early in 1636 and in St. John's was greeted with a speech of welcome delivered by Cleveland. A similar welcome, also spoken by Cleveland, was given to King Charles and Charles Prince of Wales when they visited St. John's in March 164a. Oliver Cromwell was frequently in Cambridge, which elected him as its representative in Parliament both on March 35, 1640, and on October 27, of the same year. And literary men and divines whose names are now honoured walked the streets of Cambridge in those years ; not only Cleveland of St. John's, but Edward King ('Lycidas') and Henry More of Christ's, Richard Crashaw of Peterhouse, Abraham Cowley of Trinity, William Sancroft and Ralph Cudworth of Emmanuel. Tubbe's literary remains date in part from his years at Cambridge. Among them is an elegy on a Johnian friend of Tubbe's own year, John Skelton of Armathwaite, Cumber- land, who died in 1639, or a year or two later,^ and another on Lawrence Chaderton the first Master of Emmanuel, who died at the age of 103 in November 1640. An epigram on Ben Jonson was probably written soon after the dramatist's death in 1637, and one on Bishop Joseph Hall in 1641. An ode on the power of music appears to date from the same year. Probably other poems are of this period, especially those based on poems of Randolph. As has been said, one cannot fix the date of Tubbe's leaving Cambridge, though probably he did not stay very long after taking his M.A. degree in 1642. Neither do we know where he was living during the years that followed ' He is called B.A. INTRODUCTION ix his 'going down.' He tells us that his intention had been to be a minister of the Church, but that this intention was abandoned owing partly to the troubles of the times, partly to a ' scurvy cold ' (the probable cause of the deafness which came upon him). We have, however, a series of Latin letters of this time addressed to ' E. Petro-paulus V apparently a Cambridge friend of younger standing who remained at the University after Tubbe had left it. In the first he appears to congratulate his friend on having failed to obtain a fellow- ship. ' I would not have you made a fellow among brute animals who recognise neither virtue itself nor the reward of virtue. For of such the whole reformed (" reformabile ") body of the recent University is now composed ... I should wish to be remembered to all friends.' The reference to the consti- tution of the college would put the letter in the year 1644 or later : the fact that he still had friends in Cambridge would imply that he had not left college very long. In the next letter he complains of his poverty, caused by the troubled times in which the priests of the Muses are reviled. But let the foe beware — ' spoliatis arma supersunt.' The fourth letter refers to the war, in which neither friend took any part, * while others draw swords, we fight with our pens.' In the eighth he tells his friend that he has been ill and is still in pain. ' The butcher of a surgeon threatens the knife once more to my unhealthy wound. I am sick of life.' The ninth letter brings us to the death of King Charles (which the writer may himself have witnessed) and therefore to the year 1649. Before this date, however, we have more abundant informa- tion about Tubbe's life and thoughts in the series of English letters beginning with April 27, 1648.^ He is now living with the Marquis and Marchioness of Hertford at Essex House, ' Perhaps Edward Pirkins of St. Catharine's Hall, matriculated 1638, B.A. 1642^3, M.A. 1646. The name ' Petro-paulus ' is, however, hard to disentangle. ' In dealing with these letters my principle has been to give passages Which bear on the author's life and friends, and omit disquisitions and sermonizings. I have transferred the dates from the foot to the head of the letters. 12 HENRY TUBBE Strand ^—whether as secretary to the Marquis or tutor to some of his children is not apparent. He has just paid a visit- perhaps charged with some political message — to Thomas, Lord Southampton, at Titchfield House, near Fareham, Hants. The King (who had himself stopped at Titchfield House on his way) was now imprisoned at Carisbrooke in the Isle of Wight. To THOMAS RISLEY, Esq. Epist. I. Expressing the delights of the Country ; &c, Essex House. London. Apr. 27. 1648. Sir, After my returne to London I was much possess'd with the remembrance of that Sweetnes, which the Country did afford. All the varietie of Colours in Cheape-side could not please mee so well, as that blew Appearance of the Hills in the Isle of Wight ; besides other pleasures of the flowrie Feilds and Medowes. The City can boast more stately Build- ings, but your Woods present more lofty Trees : these are the Fruits of Nature, the other but of Art her Servant. And yet Titchfeild-House may compare with some, if not for greatnes, for neat curiositie & reverend Antiquitie. Where besides the freenes of my entertainment I received such other accomoda- tions, as to a Mind well disposed could not but give great satisfaction. I once persuaded my selfe, that I was in a Colledge, especially, when I beheld your Discipline and De- votion so like ours at Cambridge. Sometimes I thought my selfe at Court, where the Prince of the Palace with his Company & Attendants presented much Gravitie & State, but no Pride at all. These delights have so affected mee, that since my departure comparing times & places I have made it my only happines, next to the pleasure of a Good Conscience, to preserve the memory of those few Dayes by meditation & discourse. The continuSll distractions of this Place compared with that quiet Libertie wherein I found my selfe for so short a time, make mee thinke that I am come with too much hast out of Paradise into Purgatorie. . . . The Giant Warr, that ' Robert, Earl of Essex, had on March 11, 1636, for ;£i,ioo leased half Essex House for ninety-nine years to the (then) Earl of Hertford and Frances his wife, Lord Essex's sister. Lord Essex himself died at Essex House without an heir male in 1646. A Petworth portrait of Lady Hertford is reproduced in H. St. Maur's Annals of the Seymours (1902). INTRODUCTION 13 spreads himselfe into all parts, yet dares not set his foot within the verge of your village. ... I have written (as you directed) to my La. El. about Securitie for that small Sum of mony in Her Hands, and that other moyetie to be added to it : which I make no question, but she will be willing to gi-ant. . . . The House is very busie in prosecution of an Ordinance for raising large Sums of Releife for Ireland, to maintairte their own strength & majestie : and yet their deare Army must not be neglected : for to satisfie them they are upon very high demands with the Citizens : who grown weary of such heavy exactions are at last resolved (for 't is so ordered by a Common Councell) to stand upon their own Guard, and defend them- selves. My L. of Pembrooke hath bin lately presented with abundance of Thanks for his extraordinarie care & eager diligence in reforming the Universitie of Oxford: and those stubborne Fellowes that will not conforme to his pious Reforma- tion, shall be very fairely rewarded with Expulsion : but that which is best worth our observation in the carriage of that Busines is this, That All Tenants must pay their Rents to the Visitors, w"*" without all controversie will by them be very well bestow'd. This discreet zeale for the profit & wellfare of our Colledges hath exalted their consideration to a higher pitch, to provide & settle Ministers throughout the whole Kingdome. These are admirable Workes, and speake the Goodnes of our Grand Reformers ; but it is to be feared, that the suddaine Absence of the Duke of Yorke will bring some interruption to their full Proceedings. Besides, those severall Musters of Militarie Blades in Wales amounting all together to the number of nine or ten thousand, have caused a strange distraction & irresolution in our valiant Members. And I suppose the Scots are not farr behind hand : their Declaration is greedily expected ; and when that appeares, wee shall know their minds better: they goe on in their preparations, and receive all Souldiers coming from England: yet the Clergy there most feircely oppose the Necessitie of a New Warr. This is all that my slender Information can produce. Tubbe concludes with respectful messages to the Dowager Lady Southampton and the rest of the household. One of the 'young ladies' was Lady Rachel Wriothesley, aged twelve, afterwards known in history as the heroic wife of William, Lord Russell. bee pleased to present my humble Service to Her, whose very age requires a profession of reverence & duty. Next 14 HENRY TUBBE I am bold to submit a protestation of my observance to , . . my very gracious Lord, tlie Earle of Southampton & his noble Consort, the young Ladies, and all those that have power to command my Will to a just Obedience. I shall only name the rest, to whose favour and affection I am bound. My La. White, Mrs. Vernon, Mrs. Spencer ; Mr. Lamb, Mr. Paine, Mr. Piggot, Mr. Neale, Mr. Slaughter &c. Tubbe's next letter is addressed to his brother, of whom we have heard nothing since his mother committed him, in her will, to the protection of Lord Essex. Essex, the elder,. Southampton, and Spencer had at one time been alike, as we saw, leaders of the Country Party as opposed to the Party of the Court. But the coming of the Civil War had broken up the old Country Party, and while Essex commanded for a time the Parliamentary forces, Thomas, Lord Southampton, and his sister Penelope, Lady Spencer, now a widow, had clung to the fortunes of the King. And this breach was repeated in the family of their old dependant Captain Tubbe. Henry was an ardent Royalist, Robert had perhaps served under Essex in the war, certainly from the time we encounter him again he is attached to the anti-monarchical cause. How he was employed when the following letter was addressed to him we do not know. To my Brother R. HAY TUBBE Epist. II. Persvading Him not to returne into England ; &c. Essex House. May i8. 1648. Brother, . . . If the badnes of the Country where you are, persuade you to' leave it, yet (mee thinks) the goodnes of your place & service should move yotf to keepe your Station. You seem willing to be tyed by your Lord's Courtesie. why may not that prevaile with y" against all impediments whatsoever? ... I am glad to heare, that you are so healthfuU in a forraigne Climate. . . . How to satisfie you concerning Newes will be a hard taske, since wee differ in our opinions. . . . The Kingdome now is in a worse tondition than when you left London : The King himselfe.a close Prisoner in the Isle of Wight, and to continue' INTRODUCTION 15 so during the pleasure of our Great Masters now above board, no addresse to be made to Him upon paine of Death & Damnation, a thing so strange to all moderate & reasonable men of what persvasion soever, that wee cannot but wonder with deepe amazement, how it could be thought upon by those that professe themselves Subjects, and all this done, notwith- standing the desires of the Scots, & the Importunitie of all Countyes in England for a Personall Treaty & Accomodation with His Majesty. These desperate Proceedings of the Army have, caused such a generall distraction, that without God's extraordinarie mercy wee can looke for nothing but utter mine & destruction. There is an intention, if not obstructed by suddaine distempers at home, to send Fairefax the Generall with Forces to the North, on this pretence, only to suppresse all insurrections in those Parts, and reduce the Townes of Barwick & Carlile, with such other places, as have been lately surpris'd by some of the King's Friends and their deadly Enemyes. Colonel Whaley with his R^ment is appointed to march to Bury to end some Controversies there about that old Country- Idol, a May-pole ; which proceeded so farr, that some lives were lost in the Quarrell. The like Dissention hath fallen out here at Westminster, though upon better grounds. Many Hundreds came out of Surrey, after the Example of other Shires, with a Petition to the Lords, and another to the Commons ; humbly requesting, amongst other Particulars, that their Soveraigne Lord might be restored to his just Greatnes & Authoritie, his due Rights, Honour, & Prerogative. The Upper House gave a faire Answer to the Petitioners Request ; w"'' the Other refus'd. Hereupon some of the meaner Sort began to be very angry with the Parlia- ment, and dispute the Case with the Souldiers ; who not con- tent to heare any ill of their precious Members, or receive any affronts, multiplyed their Words into down-right blowes, till some were killed, & many more wounded. Thus the Score of Blood is daily increas'd, differences enlarged on all hands, desolation ready to devoure us, all hopes of future happines quite exhausted, unlesse the Providence of God speedily invert that Streame of mischeife, thrust on with such fearfull violence by a few turbulent Spirits, that will yeeld to no motions of peace & quietnes. In this confusion the Busines of Ireland is so much n^lected, that my Lo. Inchiquin is forc'd to make a dishonourable Peace (as some call it) or a Cessa- tion for foure Months (as others conceive) with the Rebells. You have the Sum of our miseries; enough (I thinke) to compel! you to stand aloofe: your former experience might i6 HENRY TUBBE instruct you to avoid the sence [scene?] of these Calamities : if you desire to run the hazard of another Civill Warr, or delight to see the ruines of a glorious Commonwealth, you may be wellcome hither to your own vaine thoughts, but no honest man can spare you the Wishes of a good entertain- ment.^ But my Nature will not give mee leave to entertaine this suspicion of the same Flesh and Bloud with my Selfe : and yet if you resolve to returne, I must have a sufficient reason to give satisfaction to Your most affectionate B. H.T. The next letter, sent apparently with a poem, to his patron Lord Hertford, contains a reference to his deafness. To my Lord, the MARQUESSE OF HARTFORD Epist. in. A profession of my Service and Duty. My most honour'd Lord, It is not the least part of my Unhappines, that by reason of my Infirmitie I cannot communicate my selfe to my Friends in the advantage & benefit of a free conversation. Hence it is, that I am allwayes forc'd to expresse my Gratitude for your noble favours ... at this distance, by the proxey of a Letter. ... I conceive my Lord, I am bound to render you some account of my Time, by whose favour it is made so precious, that in spite of all our wild distractions, I can yet entertaine these calme & quiet thoughts. All discontents are swallowed up in the joy I receive from any thing, that may afford some delight to your vacant Houres. And though I cannot raise a satisfaction to your Soule by such idle recreations, yet I presume, there is not one single word, that can cause dis- pleasure. . . . To disturb your quiet, to usurpe upon your leisure ... are injuries. ... I dare acquit my selfe before hand of such a guilt, as conceiving, that this harmlesse peice of Poetrie * beares no character, biit what may well become the profession of your aaost humble and most faithful Servant. The next letter is addressed to his old guardian, Dr. Bernard of Croydon. ' i.e. of a good or profitable employment, ' Perhaps the verses on p. 80 below. INTRODUCTION 17 To SAMUEL BERNARD, D.D. Epist. IV. A Complaint of private & publique miseries. &c. Essex House. June 8. 1648. Sir . . . I cannot be ignorant, that you have long since left to be my Guardian, and that you have a sufficient charge of your own to looke after: enough to exact your whole care & dili- gence : especially since you are deprived of your right, lively-hood, & subsistence. Yet let mee intreat your Goodnes to make good what you have undertaken for the recoverie of that Sum of mony, for which the Owner stands bound to mee in your name. [He asks him when he comes to London] to . . use the Authoritie of a few Words, that Hee may render an account of his Proceedings in this Business. ... It is now six Yeares, since any Interest was payd, & I know not how many since the Bond was first seal'd & delivered. Far be it from mee to be guilty of such a base Ingratitude, as to have the least scruple in my thoughts of your undeserved fidelitie : yet I have reason to suspect, till I am better satisfied, that (whoso- ever is the Cause of it) I am not fairely dealt with. The Extremitie of my Wants forces mee to these unwilling expressions. . . . Must I still languish under the courtesie of others, and be worthy of nothing but favour ? a thousand Deaths are not so terrible. After touching on public news, such as ' reports of another Escape intended by His Majesty ', he continues : wee hope the Parliament will shortly descend from their high Votes to some Overtures of Accomodation, and make amends for the cruelltie of those harsh Decrees, w"^ forbid all Addresse to our Soveraigne Lord. Which, if it may not be done in order to the Wellfare, Happines, & Honour of the King, yet for satisfaction to their best Favourites the People (who now begin to see and love the suffering Vertues of their Princely Master) is thought to be a Course most necessary, and may produce such safe Grounds of Securitie for all Parties, that wee should not need to feare a Second Warr. But if desperate Minds be resolved upon mischeife, who can helpe it ? Surely none but that infinite Power, i8 HENRY TUBBE w""* can easily countervaile the worst Desi'gnes of the Devill, and his cursed Instruments. Who are still so feircely devoted and given up to all manner of wickednes, that notwithstanding their own present danger, they can find time to contrive conveyances of the Church-lands for the maintenance of a barbarous Word the Ministry, a meer pretence to scrue Wealth into their own Purses; as if Deanes and Prebends were no Ministers, but ranke Idolls, and their Possessions not to be purg'd of Superstition, but by a trick of cleanly Con- veyance. But the Essex-Petitioners and other Countyes may prevent this zealous fury, if they be not courted to a worse Slaverie of their own Persons & Estates (w""* put together spell Malignant) by an Ordinance of Indempnitie another jugling device of our State-Conjurers, found out to suppresse Loialltie & AUegeance stirring the Subjects Hearts to a just Revenge. Which had proceeded to some hopefull Issue, if this dull drousie City would have entertained a Complyance with the Country, a more certaine meanes to preserve their Priviledges, than the Discharge of their lately-imprisoned Aldermen. However, the distractions in Scotland may bring home Peace to our Dores : and if all outward Helpes faile, the Allmighty Ruler will not deceive our faithful Expectation. S. Marmaduke Langdale goes on bravely in the North : his Number is confess'd to be at least ten thousand.' Tubbe's aunt, Mrs. Anne Symcots, to whom the next letter is addressed, was apparently a dependant of the Spencer family. The name of her daughter Penelope, who died, apparently in Lady Spencer's service, at Hatton House on July 31, 1651, suggests that, like Tubbe, she was Lady Spencer's godchild. Drury House where Mrs. Anne Symcots was living had been built by Sir William Drury, grandfather of the youthful Elizabeth Drury celebrated so often by Donne. It passed, however, to the Craven family, who were closely connected with Lady Sjiencer, her eldest daughter Elizabeth having married John, Lord Craven. Whether Tubbe means by ' My Honourable Lady ' Lady Craven or Lady Spencer, who may have been staying with her daughter, is not clear. Drury House was called later Craven House, but it seems not to have changed its name at this date. INTRODUCTION 19 To Mrs. ANNE SYMCOTS Epist. V. An Apologie for my Absence. Deare Aunt, You may wonder, why I am grown so great a stranger to Drury House, what the reason is, that I cannot afford my best Friends a friendly Visit. The truth is, I have bin lately afflicted with such an extremitie of Deafenes, that no Words of any reasonable Sound can find a passage into my Eares. ... I hope my Honourable Lady will be pleased to accept of this Excuse, though I know her favourable Indulgence towards mee is such, that Her La. would be content rather to beare with mylnfirmitie,than forgive this necessary neglect of mypersonall Attendance. . . . Your most affectionate Nephew, H. T. The recipient of the next sad letter was, as will be seen, Tubbe's cousin, but in what way we do not know. William Cole was also cousin to Thomas Winniff, the ejected Bishop of Lincoln,^ and, like him, came from Sherborne. As son of Thomas Cole gent, of Sherborne he was admitted to Gray's Inn on Feb. 3, 1643^4. He was called to the Bar on Feb. 11, 1650--1. In later letters we hear of his son Bernard, and the Grays Inn Admissions tell us that ' Barnard Cole,, son and heir of William Cole esq of this house' was admitted on June 21, 1658. He was then only ten years old, as on June 14, 1661, he was admitted, aged thirteen, to St. John's College, Oxford, as ' Bernard Cole son of William of Gray's Inn, arm.' (Foster, Alumni Oxonienses). To Mr. WILLIAM COLE Epist. VI. An Excuse of my Absence Deare Cosen, In this long time of my Absence from your House, I cannot sit down without an Apologie. I have bin of late most heavily oppress'd with the weight of my old Disease, so that I am forc'd to forbeare all Visits to any of my Friends, as conceiving that I can be of no other use in their presence, but only to stare upon them. Nothing but Drums & Thunder, ^ Shown by Winniff 's will at Somerset House. C 3 30 HENRY TUBBE & such like Noises, the Larum of a Scold, or the Oaths of a Ruffian, or the Cries of our oppressed Commons, which are loud enough, can peirce my obdurate Eares. If a Wise man aske mee a Question, I retume an Answer, as if there were no difiference betwixt Chalke & Cheese. At Church, in these preaching Dayes, though I am seldome cloyed with too much good Doctrine, yet I am sometimes very sensible of most egregious Non-sense ; tvhich is commonly delivered with such violence, that my true Cozen-germans, the deafe Inhabitants of the Grave, are allmost reviv'd with the noise, and together with my selfe become most expert, quick, & understanding Auditors. In this condition I am fit to converse with none but my deare Muse, and those mute Legible Soules in my Studdy. 'The heigth of my Recreation is a little fresh Aire, and now & then (with Domitian) the Death of a sillie Flie. I am very much in love with that fashion of the Court, where Smiling & Whispering (if the silent Motion of Lipps may beare that name) are together in contention which shall act their dumb Showes best. Sometimes I steale up into the Dining Rome, and there behold some few Lords & Ladies eating & drinking, which (mee thinks) is excellent Discourse. Oh for the Art of Hearing with Eyes ! And yet mine are but helplesse Neighbours to the other Sense : for (in good truth) night or day, at a distance I can hardly distinguish betwixt Jone and my Lady. That may be (you will say) because perhaps my Mistresse is both Jone & a Lady too.^ Well, take it as you please : but in earnest (my worthy Kinsman) and without jesting let mee tell you, that till it please God to release mee of this heavy Burden, I can not expresse my unhappines. . . < I pass over a stilted and conventional letter ' To Mr. Mathew Scot. Epist. VII : Expressing the joy of our mutuall Friendship', merely remarking that the recipient had been admitted to St. John's College on April 8, 1635, set. 17, as son of Edward Scott, clothier, of Lensford (or Glemsford), Suffolk. The next letter is addressed to Frances, Marchioness of Hertford, and was accompanied evidently by a poem. It seems to refer to the regulations for the licensing of books which Milton had denounced in Areopagitica. ' Lord Hertford's youngest daughter was Lady Jane Seymour. See }A2ciX\X.\., English Proverbs, ' Jone's as good as my lady (in the dark)'. INTRODUCTIO^J 21 To MY LADY, the L. M. of H. Epist. VIII. An Acknowledgment of my thankfuUnes &c. Madam, ... I am forced to have recourse to this way of thankfuUnes to expresse how sensible I am of what I enjoy by the influence of your teeming Graces. Within this Paper I am bold to inclose another, which containes something,^ that may serve to weare away a few tedious minutes, if your Houres bee troubled with any such, which are so full of honourable Imploiment. The Sense of these Lines is plaine & honest, in which respect I presume they are more acceptable than the light froth & scum of an aierie Wit. With which these Times abound so much, that I thinke nothing else hath given a greater occasion to the Increase of our Miseries than those hateful Swarms of idle Pamphlets, which every houre of the Day flie abroad into the World, to the Disgrace not only of all ingenuous Learning, but of the best Religion, that ever was planted in this Island. Our wise Reformers have lately provided a strict remedie for this disease : but such, as makes themselves only capable of doing that, which they condemn in others ; they would be absolute Lords of the Pen, as well as of the Sword ; though they know not how to use either with any reasonable Equitie. This black & white Innocence here inclosed will yeeld nothing for a pretence to their cruell Justice. Here is no biting Language : no Invectives : no Batteries raised against the Structure of our new-upstart- Commonwealth : the grave Alderman may sleepe securely in his Fur-gown, and not feare any undermining Phrase to startle his Conscience. But I begin to be wanton, and boldly intrude upon your La. more serious Judgment, to whose Censure, I submit these weake, but well-meant Expressions, and professe my selfe, as I am ever bound, Your La. most humble and thankfull Servant, H. T. Next follows Epist. IX, which is really an essay on the Bible, with so little of the character of a letter that the name of the recipient is left blank. Then another to Matthew Scott : * Perhaps the verses 'To — ' (Epigrams, Book I, No. xiv.). 22 HENRY TUBBE To MR. MATHEW S. Epist. X. Concerning the unlawfullnes of single Combats. I have seriously considered of our last discourse concerning private Duells, which without any fancy I conceive to be a kind of War, which no pretence can justifie, maintained only by the humersome Pride of some swaggering Companions, with an erroneous conceit of the greatest courage in such desperate Undertakers, who thinke they are bound to preserve their credits with any losse, though their deArest Soules lie in jeopardie for this quarrelsome performance. . . . What is the ' little Booke of the perfection of Woemen ' which accompanied the following letter to Lady Hertford? In answer to a query of mine in Notes and Queries, Mr. G. Thorn Drury suggested that it might be The Heroinx (1639), written by G. Rivers and dedicated to Lady Dorothy Sydney (who became in that year Lady Spencer's daughter- in-law), or The Woman's Glorie, A Treatise Asserting the due Honour of that Sexe (1645), by Samuel Torshel (who died in 1650), or again Hxc Homo, wherein the Excellency of the Creation of Woman is described (1637), by William Austin. The first of these suggestions is, perhaps, the most likely, as Tubbe's thirty-fourth epigram of the first series is On the Heroinx. Perhaps among the friends whom Tubbe says he had lost was Penelope Symcots his cousin, who died on July 31, 1651, at Hatton House, where she was apparently in attendance on Lady Spencer. Tubbe has a poem on her death, from which one gathers that he had looked forward to marriage \irith her. Hatton House, Holbowi, was built by Sir Christopher Hatton on the garden of Ely Place. It passed to his nephew William Newport (who took the name of Hatton) and from him to his widow who married Sir Edward Coke, and to their daughter who married Sir John Villiers. The house is said to have been demolished about 1654 (Wheatley's London). INTRODUCTION 23 To MY LADY, the LA. M. of H. Epist. XI. Commending a little Booke of the perfection of Woemen. Whilst others present your La[dyship] with their own Workes, I shall take as great pride in the oblation of this little Volume, written by a learned Gentleman, now in Heaven ; wherein you may read the just character of your Selfe. . . It is a faire description of those excellent braveries & masculine vertues incident to your Sex. . . . What the power of Grace is in a Person, to whom this solid narration delivered in this Booke doth belong, I am very sensible by the losse of some friends, whose pure example was my best direction, and whose memory, next to the thoughts of offending God, is my surest defence against the fury of a wild temptation. . . . The next letter marks a change in Henry Tubbe's life. He had left Essex House and gone as tutor to the sons of John Tufton, second Earl of Thanet, at Hothfield near Ashford, Kent. See the table on the next page. Probably Tubbe's pupils consisted of John Tufton and his brothers, Richard and Thomas. The boys were apparently • out of hand ', and no small trial to their deaf instructor. Lord Thanet was very autocratic, and had probably no interest in Tubbe apart from employing him. So the change from his life at Essex House must have been a sad otie. I do not know who is ' The Honest Herauld ' mentioned in the letter. ' My Lord of Lincoln' was Thomas Winnifif, then ejected from his see. Mr. John Winnifif was Bishop Winniff's heir, as is seen by the latter's will. ' My brother Cuffe ' may perhaps have been a brother-in-law of Robert Hay Tubbe, whom we find soon after as a married man, or possibly husband of a half- sister, if Henry and Robert were 'children of a second marriage of Captain Tubbe. To Mr. WILLIAM COLE Epist. An acknowledgment of courtesies. A complaint of our abuse of Time. &c. Hothfeld in Kent. Jul. 23. 165a. Deare Cosen, As soon as I was setled in the Country, and had greedily dispatched some scholastique affaires, I began to thinke what 24 HENRY TUBBE ^ CJ tn ■rf en ^ -sl-vO C^_U 5 1-1 M II' 3 ro ■a • C m ^ £ t-> ■* O n w M o ^T3 V a < Id -60 O Sackvill b. 1647 d. 1721 C/3 ■a Thomas 6th E. of Thanet b. 1644 d. 1729 Richard Sth E. of Thanet b. 1640 d. 1683^4 John 4th E. of Thanet b. 1638 d. 1680 Nicholas 3rd E. of Thanet b. 1631 d. 1679 INTRODUCTION 25 obligations lay upon mee to the remembrance of my Friends. Naturall affection presented my Brother as the first Object of my thoughts. But hee being so farr out of the way in every sense, I could find none, to whom my devotion in this kind is more necessary, than to your Selfe. ... I could bee content to impoverish my selfe to doe you a pleasure ; but when I con- sider, that my Time is not my own, for the most part devoted to the occasions of my Imployment, ... I must resolve to remaine your Eternall Debtour. ... If the Country at this distance could afford any thing worth acceptance, I would have sent you something more reall in it selfe, more full of solid satisfaction, than the aerie impressions of this rarified rag, the barren fruites of a weary Braine ; a Braine, though not consumed with sloth, yet allmost worne out with the vanitie of unnecessary labours. ... I would have sayd as much to your loving Consort ; but you two being so happily united, I will presume to make One Letter serve You both, with a Dash of hearty Commendations to my little fine Cosen Bernard, my Godsonne Charls, & the young Gentlewoeman their Sister. . . . The Honest Herauld must bee in the number of my Cosens too, and to bee remem- bred accordingly. This inclosed to the La. Marquesse of Hartford, if I may tempt your discretion to the trouble of presenting your Selfe, you may doe mee a great favour in it ; if not, I shall desire you to leave it with the Porter at Essex House. When you see my Lord of Lincolne, you may bee pleased to present my humble service, & withall an Apologie for my rude departure in not taking my leave, which was caused by our unexpected hast out of town. My kind respect to his Nephew Mr. John Winiffe, my Brother Cuffe, and all other acquaintance. . . . Your faithfull Friend & most affec- tionate Kinsman. The next is no doubt the letter which Cole was asked to deliver. To the LA. MARQ. OF HARTFORD Epist. A Profession of Service, with an earnest desire to imitate her vertues in opposition to the vices of the Time. From Hothfelde in Kent. Jul. 24. 1652. Madam ... I would bee loath to engage my judgment on the distinc- tion of your Graces, to say, which is best : for though one exceed another in regard of a more noble Object, yet all are in their 26 HENRY TUBBE highest degree so eminent in your Selfe the Subject, that what appeares but like a Glow-worme-light in others, is in You a shining Star. Whose influence is such, that I beleeve the World will mend upon it, & casheire those infectious Vices of the Age, which, since Rebellion first broake out, have been so strangely predominant, not in every idle corner, as heretofore, but upon the publique Stage, in the view of all Eyes, and what was once but secret, is now transformed into the fashion of the Times. Heresies comply, like Sampson's Foxes, by the tailes, & destroy a goodly Harvest of Religion. Blasphemy walkes up & down, like a stalking Horse, in the severe shape of pietie & devotion, to frighte poor Soules into a Net of Perdition. Faction & Schisme, like two meager Blood-hounds, have pur- sued a fainting Truth to the last gaspe, and are now ready to seize upon her. Disobedience & Disorder, like a sowre Plauge, usurpe upon every Family, and Prophanenesse makes a Breach into every Soule. 'Tis in the power of your Example to remove these violent Stormes, and make faire weather in the State. If other Forces would but joine, and march after such a Leader, our pretended Army of Saints would quickly fall in peices ; the Devill himselfe would feare a discoverie, and act no more, like an Angell of Light, and his Servant would appeare in hfs own pitifuU colours, like Himselfe, a very Villaine. . . . Your La. most devout Servant, H. T. The following letter contains much moralizing matter of no biographical interest : To the La. PENELOPE SPENCER, Dowager Epist, An acknowledgment of my affection & Gratitude, concluding with an assurance of our eternall happines. From Hothfelde in Kent. Jul. 26. 165a. Tubbe speaks of 'that zeale, which hath allwayes held a constant flame towards your Selfe & your Family', and concludes : Your La. most faithfull Servant & dutifuU Godsonne, H. T. The letter following was addressed to the fifth son of Lady Spencer. He and his brother John are said in pedigrees INTRODUCTION 27 (see p. a8) to have died as minors, but we do not hear of their deaths in Tubbe's correspondence. A portrait by Van Dyck of Penelope, Lady Spencer, one by Walker of her son Henry, Earl of Sunderland ; portraits by Lely of her daughters Elizabeth, Anne, and Margaret ; a por- trait by Carlo Maratti of her grandson Robert, second Earl of Sunderland ; a portrait by H. Stone of her brother Thomas, Earl of Southampton, one by Van Dyck of his first Countess, Rachel de Rouvigny, and a miniature by Boit of his daughter Rachel, Lady Russell, are all to be found at Althorp. The two Van Dyck portraits are reproduced in E. Schaffer's Van Dyck, pp. 410, 413 (that of Lady Southampton from a picture at Welbeck). To Mr. THOMAS SPENCER Epist. Advice for his expence of Time &c. Sir, . . . If it [my letter] come attended with some good Counsell, 't is out of a desire to receive better from You. The improve- ment of your judgment & discretion have enabled you to bee my Tutour now in this kind, as I was yours once in the Principles of another nature. . . . Remember that you are the Sonne of such a Father, as will bee known in his naipe to Posteritie, when all those, that knew him in this life shall bee swallowed up (except some few like himselfe to attend upon his memorie) into the darke womb of death & oblivion. Nor can the glorious vertues of your dead & living Brothers escape your observance. We cannot say to whom the next letter was addressed. To Mr. Epist. Desiring his hearty Advice. Sir, As a pleasant Valley, that is hid from the sight with Hills & Woods, such (mee thinks) are my Friends in their absence. Though I am not here in Kent amongst my Enemyes, yet having left my former acquaintance, I conceive that I have nothing yet in view but rough Mountaines & a barren Wildernesse. . . . I would faine bee setled, where the Aire is sweet, the windes gentle, the Earth rich ; where there are no infections of Vice, a8 HENRY TUBBE H o Ill's O " 2'^ O 1-1 J3 . H-a hard 1631 Feb. T CO \o C4 tf) C "S.JS -< . -1^ £ .a "P e o IT' S " UJ O M (^ S J CO tn'' E>o <; s of Hills, standing open to the Sun. &c. III. of the Matter : the Seed w"'' is but a yeare old to bee made choice of for Breeders. IV. the Manner of Production, this Seed must bee made ripe & mellow with a bath of Wine. V. the Place, i. by the Fire's Side. 2. betwixt two Pillowes stuflfd with soft warm Feathers, or betwixt a Woeman's Breast ... 3. upon Boards or Papers, rubb'd over with Wormwood, or some such wholesome Hearb, w"'' discovers the profit as well as the pleasure and curiositie of this Beast. There are many other circumstances very observable in the generation & education of our Silkworme ; but these are sufficient to prove the admirable finenesse of his constitution. ON THE SILKE-WORME 73 Lurkes in his politique Huske, as if hee meant With ease to undermine The Parliament, Workes like a Powder-traitour in a Hole ; Faux himselfe was not such a crafty Mole. See, sayes *S'' Walter Earle, this is the way To settle the Commission of Array. 70 If Hee bee suffer'd to expire his stufTes, Wee shall have treason shortly lurke in muffes; I tell you, Freinds, if Hee be suffer'd so To vent his Wares, if the State let Him goe, Thus orderly to traine his Silver Band, Our brazen-fac'd Militia cannot stand. These are the Workes of Peace & Darknesse! War Is our Delight: This sleizie Peice will marre Our sturdy Soules : A solid massie Crown Is not brought forth on Beds of melting Down. 80 Dixit S" Midwife. But the quiet Flies Smile at his harmlesse testy injuries. They sweat in hope of Better Times, whilst I Wrapt in conceit of this deepe Mysterie, Dare wish, if neither Gold, nor Silver must Denominate our wellfare, though but Dust, If neither Honey come in floods, nor Milke, We may bee glutted with the Age of Silke. ON THE GRAY-FRIARS Of Ashford You that love Monsters, come along with mee; Ashford, like Africk, yeelds varietie. The Elders are in view ! Behold & see, A very Vision of Iniquitie ! * S. Wal. Earl. A Man (shall I say ? or a Man-midwife, as One sayd of Him) who was wont to deliver the Coffionwealth of her swelling tympanies, & make strange discoveries of Horrible Plots, a Man, that help'd to ruine 4fe» in deciphering & tormenting those innocent Characters of his Name ; and if He be yet in Beeing, will hardly suffer these tame harmlesse Vermine to doe their Businesse in Peace. 74 ON THE GRAY-FRIARS A Black, & White Witch blended ; a pure Saint Mixt with a Sable Feind in doubling Paint. Here is Albmnazar, the Learned Clown, Larded with a Set-ruflf & a rug-gown: After a hearty draught of right Sage-Ale, He sayes, he seldome knew his judgment faile. lo And there's the Justice in a Velvet-jerkin, Wash'd with the heav'nly dewes of brave Pomperkin ; And under it a Doublet steept in Braggot, Of Buffe, as tough (for ryme's sake) as a Faggot : Hee, hee it is, who, when all's done & sayd. Like Ipse dixit, strikes the Naile o' th' Head. There sits a Venerable Muftie, drest With Lungs for Three Parts, & a double Chest To beare the Burden, a wide Weasand to 't, A Crosse-bow-mouth, and a rich Nose to boot, ao Which indeed makes the Musick, whines in chimes Like Friar Bacon's Brasse upon all Times : Though his Braines are not of this Amplitude, In sooth, his Malice is a Multitude ; A Legion of Mischeifes, that can't rest. Till it have quite destroy 'd both Man & Beast: And yet this Brotherhood would seem to bee The Bulwarkes of some Fine Felicitie. Like meager Ghosts they trembling sit & stand. As Inborow and Outborow* to th' Land. 30 These Vestry-Varlets with their hanging Fares, The Emblem of our Jealousies & Feares, For their Jerusalem yet act their part Like stout, proud Heires of great King Robert's Heart.f * Inborow &» Outborow.* This Title in good earnest did once belong to Patrick Earle of Dunbar, w"'' (according to Mr. Camden's interpreta- tion) signifies thus much, that he was to allow & observe the ingresse & egresse of those that travailed to & fro between both Realmes. In a metaphoricall jeer (I thinke) it may be well applyed to these officious Time-servers, who sit only to marke passages of State, without any effectuall Power, either to benefit themselves, or the Comonwealth. t Our Histories report of K. Robert Brus, that having made a Vow to goe to the Holy Land, he gave order at his death, thinking that a sufficient discharge of this solemne duty, to have his Heart carried to Jerusalein. These punctuall Reformers may seem to be Inheritours of this constant ON THE GRAY-FRIARS 75 If Captaine Squirt but moderate, the Throng Listens, and gapes for Sweet-meats from his Tounge. Like a State-glister it cures backward still With Quantities of Zeale, enough to fill A Seeker's Belly, bravely dish'd & stew'd, To tast, as every Palate is indued. 40 His Thoughts are stufTd with a destructive Curse, Just like the Treason of the Timber-Horse : And wee shall have, although but arse-versie, A Laj^e of Justice, and a Layre of Mercy. What is thy Price & Pow'r, Religion ! when Things, that but only weare the shapes of Men, Yea, scarce so much, Hobgoblin-Vanities, Must goveme Thee; and with their fulsome Lies Corrupt the sweetnesse of that Truth, w"*" brings Such Health, as crownes the Diadems of Kings? 50 Sweet little Town ! How are thy Streets defil'd With these wild Beasts, e'en blasted & revil'd With Execrations, the blasphemie Of their vile lookes & presence ! Pietie Is but an idle Name, since these Wormes first Usurp'd the reines, and with their harsh votes curst The glory of our Church : Devotion Is but a scurvy loathsome Potion ! Rare Physick! Doctour Smectymnuus railes And cries. The Directory never failes. 60 One by the vertue of strong roapie Ale Inspir'd, can make a Sermon of a Tale ; Which taken to the purpose, hee'U defie His Adversaries with Alacritie ; And from those Fumes obtaine the mysterie Of a religious, pious Alcumy ; Retrive the Age, and turne it back againe Into the Splendour of a Golden Raigne ; spirit & resolution, who having first by a firm League Sf Covenant devoted their very soules to Presbytery, and afterwards by a sad expira- tion of their Power quite lost the way thither, doe yet bequeath the dead Heart of their desperate designes to be transported to this Blessed Habita- tion of (I know not what) Peace & Goverment. 76 ON THE GRAY-FRIARS Our Iron-Workes shall down, down, By this Liquour, That so our Faith in Gold may grow the quicker. 70 Bless'd with the quiet Gift of Yea & Nay This Post can purely prophecie & pray ; Although Cassandra-like, 'tis his ill hap Not to have Credit, till the After-clap; Till grave S" JOHN Himselfe be made the Game Of all our misery, of all our shame. Neighbour to both these, betwixt Drunke & Sober Stands One, that lookes like Autum in October; And yet forsooth, if you but name the King; His Loialltie will glister like the Spring: 80 I like the Spring ! it sprouts, & springs, & growes, And growes ; but when it will bee ripe, God knowes. This by the motion of his waving Crest, And the Hand layd devoutly on the Breast, Such vigour gives, such valour to the rest. To live & dye with Him, They hold it best. Another swells like a young preaching Cub With a devout Oration in a Tub ; Nay, since that Vessell was transform'd, the Worst Are Orthodox Divines, bred up and nurst 90 In Revelations I The valiant Sword Of Scanderbeg is Nothing to the Word ; The razour-metall-Word ! that cuts & teares Their very mouths up to their very Fares ! Th' aspiring Word ! w* sometimes gets so high. That 't is enroll'd in Albo Oculi! And whosoever tries the Altitude Of sense or meaning there, does but intrude Upon such mysteries, ^s ne're were seen But by the equall force of such like Eyne. 100 Yet 't is to bee suppos'd, when those Lights heave, The Maw is glutted with some Bishop's sleeve: A Sacrilegious Bit perfumes the throat With such a Sent, it sets the Eye a-flote. Their Stomacks are not queasie ! these Mad Waggs Can swallow down the Reliques of the Raggs, ON THE GRAY-FRIARS 77 Dropt from that Linen, w""* the Blessed Whore, The dainty Wench of Babylon once wore. But stay! I know the reason now of all These checquer'd tricks, these rude, phantasticall, no Light & darke showes of Goggles, Luggs, & Nose, Cleare, cloudie Colours, as the Gray Fox goes, Silver-haird Sanctity, & Dapple Grace, A Brown-blew Bonnet, a pease-porridge-Face, Good & Bad spoild together in all parts ; 'T is the bright Horrour of their durty Hearts ! Thus their close Guilt, like a slow Poison, workes Upon their Soules at last in horrid jerks ; And that foule Venome, w"*" did lurke before For others ruine, strikes at their own door. 120 Well, say no more, fond Muse ! the groveling State Of these poor Wretches cannot recreate. Thy angry Spleen I In such deepe Miseries Pity may find enough to glut her Eyes ! SATYR. A DEBATE CONCERNING THE ENGAGEMENT The ranting Erie of our New Amsterdam Exalted to the Pitch of Mighty Cham, Contending with our Dam-mee-Cavaliers, Were in Dispute together by the Eares. Amongst the rest 6". Harry Whimsey comes With a Retinue of loud talking Drums, Thus charging in the Front. 'Confound mee then, Th' Engagement is the very Soule of Men ! The Quintessence of Heav'n ! It is decreed, There's No Salvation Sir (on this side Tweed) lo Without it. 'T is th' Elixar of our Creed : And they who take it, are blest Saints indeed; Double-refin'd-Sugar-Loaves of Pietie, Sweet Gracious Babes, Cream of Divinitie, Gods at the first Remove, and at the next No lesse than Angells sure. (So sayes my Text.) 78 SATYR With that a Botcher yawn'd ; O Brother ! fie ! On my Fidelitie-now-law, You lie ! This is Damnation verily ! for why ? The Grace of God is pure Presbyterie t ao At this a Gentle Weaver wondring stands With white engaging Eyes, & lofty Hands, Riming them into Peace, with, By my Fay, Stay (I beseech you) stay, By Yea and Nay, (As I may sing & say) Y'are out o' th' Way. A doughty Champion of the State then rises. Subdues these Curates of the lesser Sises, And with his il/ioy^&y-Elbowes quite confutes The crazy Shreds of their disputing Sutes, Slighting weake Arguments with valiant Noise, 30 And the high Impudence of his Brasse- Voice. After this Hercules, runs limping in A little Shrimp, that serves but for a Pin To hold the Woemens Charitie together. Though by his shrill Throat He might be Bel-weather To the whole flock : Both He and She delight To heare the Reasons of this tinckling Sprite. At last the Beast growes dumb, for ever whist, Choak'd with the Breathings of a Female Mist : The zealous Fog hath spoil'd our tinie Page ; 40 And He can only gaspe. Engage, Engage I But see ! a brave Virago of Devotion Is mounted next, swell'd w* the Spirit's Motion, Like mad Bes Broughton in a learned Vaine, Or Madam Shipton with prophetique Straine ; She tells her huge, wide-gaping Auditorie,, That She is greivous sic^ and fesirfull sorry To see the Power Rampant of the States So much declin'd for want of Feminine Fates. A dire Mistake! Bee it enacted then 50 Against th* insulting Pride of willfull Men, Truth & Fidelitie be swome to None, But the fine Common-wealth of Gill & Joane. They all subscribe & yeeld ! Since Maa is grown SATYR 79 So out of tune, let Woeman rule alone : And then to satisfie such deare Temptation, Wee'll damn our Selves by Oath of Adjuration. TO MY BROTHER I LIKE not Friends in rithme : nor will allow His over-skillfull faith, whose Braines o'reflow With deepe invention, while the streame of Love Ebbs into aire; whose loose affections move In artificiall numbers from his Pen, That writes of Men Lovers, not Loving Men. Give mee an earnest Soule, a sincere Heart, Can sympathise without the helpe of Art. Let Nature have her right in those, who are By nature knit : let no crosse-building marr lo This goodly frame ; that well-tun'd harmonie ; In which who live, know Heaven before they dye : 'T is Love's Astronomy ; Then why doe I Confine my Selfe to this Geometrie, Such earthly measure, such grosse lines? & when I write against Art, play the Artist then? But friendly Brother know this difference Of common Friendship, led by outward Sence Is none of Ours: so, wee'll not make a War In things, w"'* in themselves doe never jarre : 20 If Art serve Nature, Nature governe Art, Then both to serve us may well beare a part. They not being contrary subordinate Are to our Wishes ; & compose the State Of sweetly-mixt desires, firm brotherhood. Of vertue, strength, perfection, & all good. Then give mee leave at length t' admire in You, That which 'twixt Us maintaines so strict a Vow. I am all Wonder. Could my Pen lim forth Like to Apelles Pencill, thy rare worth, 30 Thy Forehead on some Frontispiece should- stand Bedeck'd with Lawrell; & by Fame's high hand 8o TO MY BROTHER Supported tell to future Times from mee The Muses show'd their Prodigallitie, And likewise Nature, when both did impart Their Gifts, to make thee Nature join'd w*"" Art. TO [THE LORD THE MARQUESSE OF HARTFORD?] My Lord. You have the Will & Pow'r to doe That which is good & great; the Knowledge too Of every Circumstance in every Act, Which makes the meanest Worke a famous Fact. That you know how, & where, & when t' apply Your favour, love, respect ; this drawes the Eye Of the Whole World upon your vertues ; all Admire to see goodnes so rise & fall As is the object that it workes upon: Whereby the least things seem the greatest, donne lo With such a seasonable grace and measure. Proportion, & just weight : you take a pleasure To be exactly vertuous; and your Friends Wonder, delight, & love to see your Ends. That you know how to fight, & how to cloath Your armes in Peace ; that you are skill'd in both. In both alike, is the amazement of Your Humble Creatures (although they that scoffe And jeer at Vertue will say this is nought But a fine trick of State, a handsome Fault) 20 Because 't is rare ; & wee have seldome known An equall fame, an even, just renown Accrue to severall Agfs. But they that know Your cleer integritie, can sweare & vow. That this Dexteritie proceeds from sound And strong abilities, not from a round, Smooth, nimble, turning, close & crafty Art : For in bad wayes you have a silly Heart. Truth, Sir, is plaine & powerfuU : it needs No shifting tricks to make her glorious deeds 30 TO [THE MARQUESSE OF HARTFORD?] 8i Shine forth in their brave brightnes : Plainenesse is A purer gem than those, for w"*" wee kisse The painted Face of Vice. Then let mee find No Wisdome, but what dwells in such a Mind, Where Greatnes mixt with Goodnes beares the Sway. That Mind is like Yours, I dare boldly say. TO THE LADY PEN: SPENCER I AM turn'd Bankrupt now: for such a flood Of Honour, Vertue, Wisdome, & all Good, Makes our high flowing Seas of Verse appeare Dry, fruitlesse Things. Dull Poetry! forbeare! When I behold those Eyes, the Orbes of Love And Mercy, free from anger, sweetly move, I think what Numbers may outvye that Paire, And reckon what the secret Vertues are Of those two Spheares ; but find my Selfe undone To tell but One ; One glory but of One. Figures, Descriptions are in vaine ; each part Is above all Arithmetick & Art. ON THE HEROINE Here 's a brave Looking-glasse, where wee may see Death swallow' d up by Fame's Eternitie : This is the conjuring Mirrour, that presents Our Dying Dames with living Monuments, Tombs of eternall Glory, which surpasse The brittle Frames of Iron, Stone, or Brasse. Here, Ladyes, by example you may dresse And trim your Soules with Crowns of Blessednes, Vertue & Honour are a lovely Prize, Not to be taken up with mortall Eyes. Your other Glasses represent no more Than the faire Blossoms of a fading Flow'r : But in this cleer Reflection are enshrin'd The everlasting Beautyes of the Mind. 8a ON THE SACRAMENT Lord, to thy Flesh & Blood when I repaire, Where dreadfull joyes & pleasing tremblings are, Then most I relish ; most it does mee good, When my Soule faints, & pines, & dyes for food. Did my Sinns murder thee? to make that plaine. Thy peirc'd, dead-living Body bleeds againe. Flow sad sweet drops ! what difFring things you doe ! Reveale my Sinns, & scale my pardon too. TO I[OSEPH] H[ALL] B[ISHOP] OF N[ORWICH] Upon his Picture This Picture represents the Forme, where dwells A Mind, which nothing but that Mind excells. There's Wisdome, Learning, Wit; there's Grace & Love Rule over all the rest ; enough to prove Against the froward Conscience of this Time, The Reverend Name of Bishop is no crime. ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] Translated out of the Latine Copy Here lies (if Hee, that never liv'd, can dye. Or at least liv'd i' th' Tents of Destiny,) The famous Clerke of MatchiavelCs brave Art, Who amongst all his works of the Crosse-part, Ne're suffer'd vertue to enjoy her rest. Yet did the Crosse & Bearer both detest : Head of a Family, that hateth Kings : Deep Atheist-Engineer of factious Things : The horrid Monster of old Villany, Craz'd in th' oblivion of a Deity; lo Whose Power was the Talley of God's Wrath, Signe of an Age stufTd up with dregs & froth : A gilded Knight, a rusty Christian; Neither in purse, nor goodnes Gentleman ; A Butcher rather than Squire Militant, As wee may guesse by the foule Harlot's Haunt, ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] 83 And the true Proverb just, Birds of a Feather Will couple still most easily together ; Whose Soule ingenerated, not infus'd, Was never cleane, but still with spots abus'd, 20 As if deriv'd from Sinners first accurst ; A Lionesse his Dam, by Tigers nurst, Some Faune his Sire, but that hee is all Beast ; Well, whosoe're begot him, had been blest^ If not so fruitful! : A feirce Radamanthus, An earthly Pluto, worse than Hell's to daunt us. Or a fourth Fury, or a Thing more cruell. The Saints Scourge, Bodyes & Soules Fire & Fuell: Abiram, Corah, Dathan, Hee alone, Ravilliac, Garnet, Traitors Legion : 30 Julian reviv'd with fresh Apostacie, r th' Bishops Sides wounding Christianitie ; To whom compar'd, the Ragged Regiment Of all false Knaves, moderne & ancient, HamdeNj Brook, Pym, Fole of the untam'd Beast, And other greater Names, are now the least: From Whom hee had the Sword, hee snatch'd the Pow'r ; Who rules by God, for him shall rule no more : Patrubius, & Clusius evermore, Hee shuts up Christ's, while hee opes Janus Door : 40 The Clowns God, worship'd, lest hee should infest The Mart, where Justice to bee sold was prest. Where the Cram'd Capon was just Moderatourj Not a Law-maker, but a Law-breaker rather, Whilst (as He sayd himselfe) hee did obtrude The darke Decrees of a Night-multitude, Old Lawes quite abrogated to make way For the stolne Votes of an imperfect Fray : A Snake, a Tyrant: in prosperitie Scarce a true Friend, but in adversitie 50 A feirce Blood-sucker ; a stout Leach of money Scylla, Charybdis, of our Milke & Honey; Rack of his Country, w"'' hee squees'd for wealth, As if his dearest Friends & neighbours health G a 84 ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] Could not have wrong enough without his load : The Guard of Theeves, to none but Villaines good ; Who had the licence of their injurie From Wickednes by Law made Pietie ; Good mens Goods are Malignant in their Eye ; A Scene of Curses, Shop of Perjurie, 60 The Angell of the Covenanting Prease, Friend & Suborner of false witnesses ; McBcenas of Dissemblers ; Innocence Could. not escape; for himselfe would commence Party, Accuser, Witnes, and Judge too: A Spoiler of Church-goods, whose hands did grow Crooked with sacriledge, not age ; and what Pompey forbore, our Antony hath got, Taking from God, to square his lustfull Bias; Belshassar, Achan ; and false Ananias, 70 Only hee layd nought down, but carried all ; And on those wealthy Monuments did fall Of our Fore-fathers Goodnes, which were meant For Learning's rich increase & nourishment ; So that the Churche's Dugs were both drawn dry. Learning, Religion too, both ruin'd lie : A present ruine could not quench his ire, But to Posteritie hee spreads his fire, Who struck with scarrs of such devouring Chance Shall suffer under pious Ignorance; 80 He's therefore justly wounded with a Word, Provok'd & sharpned by his angry Sword. The Preist of Venus, Church, & Sacrifice, The common Temple of all lecheries; Whose Genius was l^e lustfull Fiend, whose sleepe Did not digest his Surfets, 'cause hee'd keepe A Watch to Venus, sparing Bacchus rites. To bee more fat & full for Her delights ; His body still was lively in this Crime ; A foule Priapus, and the Shame of Time ; 90 Fruitfull Dung, rank Flesh, itching Dust; and thus Hee that to Man-kind was still dangerous, ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] 85 Became the Foe of all Church-discipline : Nor did his bones, Lust more than Envy, pine; His Breast did bume & boil with Wrath; his Wit Was never elegant but in a Fit Of most infectious Enmity, and then Was most malicious, when it flatter'd Men: Both Equall & Superiour, Friend & Foe, Afflict him with intolerable Woe. 100 A stinking Pumpe of schisms & heresie ; A sacred Bawd, who made the Church his Stye, In w"*", with strange impietie, the best Excluded, all Religions had their nest; And because else this Treason would grow lame. Like Lttcifer's in birth, successe, and aime, With so great craft hee blur'd all pietie. As glad his Saviour to recrucifie; For the Birth-d^y of Christ, and his Last Day, Hee did not marke with black, but raz'd away; no Hee forbad Pray'rs to God in the old fashion, And kept young Infants from Regeneration: The hungry Soules were from the Table driven, And not that only, but their Church & Heaven ; The Holy Martyrs Images defac'd. And Murd'rers Statues in the Temples plac'd, As if henceforth 't would pietie become Rather t' inflict than suffer Martyrdome. Nor did Hee love the Peace o' th' Commonwealth ; For when the Warrs rapt England from her health, 120 But to name Peace with him was an Offence; Nor did hee study Peace of Conscience, In this a most just Factour of the Devill, Himselfe and others flead with the same Evill; His own Rack, Judge of his own lewdnes ; nought But Crosse & Wheels suggested to his thought : Whom the strong Guilt of Sin made impotent, Weapons & Wings 'gainst his own Spirit lent. With w"*' in vaine hee fought & fled himselfe. Too weake to quell this selfe-tormenting Elfe 130 86 ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] Victour of others oft, of himselfe never ; Who, for hee could not with a meane endeavour Act o're his Sins, intruded to the Prease ; As if no harm, without his Wickednes : In the King's time a feirce Oppressour ; now, Though the Scene alter'd, an Oppressour too; Chaire-man of Scorners, Principall of Knaves ; First for the King ; but when his Brother-slaves Were spoiling Monarchy, hee favour'd them, Now curs'd, because they love the Diadem, 140 As if Presbyterie could fall from Grace : Proteus, but that his Sinns have still one face; On every side his Mind is still the Same, Proud to be nourish'd with his Country's flame. The Commonwealth was to bee overthrown, The Church with blood of Christ & Martyrs sown. Was to be rooted out, which still grew fast. Till this last Age mad with Reforming-hast Succinctly cut Christianitie in two, The King's Death, and the Clergy's Overthrow. 150 Nor did th' unwearied Man yeeld to this Load, Both in Church, and in State, without his God ; For this respect to Kings an Enemy, 'Cause the Republique on their charge did lie, And therefore hating Bishops, because they Were the true Keepers of the Churche's Key. Thus calling from all parts his uncleane Guests, In Kent hee set up New Preists, whose Behests Might confirm Wicked Men, the Good pervert ; Because to serve God with a sincere Heart, 160 T'obey the King, t'qjpserve our Country-rites, Was a cleer marke of Antichristian Sprites, Vile Poperie, damn'd Superstition. Thus Don of the Dogs Combination To greedy Wolves deliuer'd up the Fold, That Drones might drive the Shepheards from their hold. And flea the silly Sheepe; And these were Apes Of Handycraft, of Learning but meer Shapes, ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] 87 Pure Juglers, Pulpit-pedlers, running Tides Of Voice & Belly, and nought else besides ; 170 Turning the Lamb-skin to a Fox-Wolfe-Hide, While in their Throats the Widows Houses slide: They first distract, and then the People kill. Poor famish'd Soules for meat with poison fill, Murder of Man, of King, & God proclaime, And the sweet Spouse of God, and Mother, name That Whore of Babilon, this Judah, then Urge Scripture 'gainst God, like the Devill's Men, Without God preach God, of this World, & Hell, No Scripture known, but what they act as well, 180 No Scripture, but what this blest Spirit of Light That Judge of Texts & Chapters pleas'd to write. Whose Doctrine was Canonicall. Take heed Deare, harmlesse Soules! under that pleasant Weed Of Reformation a foule Snake doth breed. With poison'd darts will make you ever bleed. Cease now 1 y' ave done enough for Hell ! nor let The ample Series of our Ills grow yet From a bad Cause of War, Religion ! But though this Lewdnes thus did burgeon, 190 Yet here hee lies Egypt's Great Plagues in Breife, In Darknes, that deny'd the Light's releife. Worms-meat, that caus'd a Famine of the Word, With Furyes slash'd, that us'd a Fury's Sword ; ' A Draught, which earthly Fire could not make cleane ; In whom what ever Evills you might gleane, What ever Good desire; a fruitfuU Place Of Vice, a barren Wildernesse of Grace. If you say W[eldon] you say all. Hee needs No Monument, so great with his own Deeds ; 200 Posteritie shall know Him by his Fame, If his Sinns doe not envy them that name ; No Urne can hold such a vast sinfull Heape. Thus He that would not Heav'n, to Hell did leape j Of Swancecomb late, but now Averttus Guest ; Who here with dropsy-thirst of blood was prest. 88 ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] Now labours more ; whose Genius here was fill'd With Orphans teares into his Cups distill'd, Hath not one drop to cool his parch'd jawes ; Hee That would not know the Blisse of Honestie, 210 Nor touch'd the joyes of a Soule serving Heaven, To greater want & hunger now is driven : Eternall flames upon those parts have seis'd, Which flames of Lust halfe-burnt had spar'd ; so eas'd He hopes to bee in his dire punishment, Because not all of Him to Hell was sent. Thus \ty a new way of Retaliation Revengefull Nemesis doth shift her station. But there is hope in time, that both Sides heard, Ignatius, and the rest of his wild Heard aao Depos'd, this Man shall rule alone, a Ghost Cathedrall, Champion of the Devill's Hoast, Viceroy of Hell (or what may fit his merit) A Parliament, or a Committee-spirit, Yet this the Supreme Orders have decreed, That Sidley, James, and the rest of that Breed, Both high & low Apostates, bee as well Provided by this rigid Judge of Hell, Of prisons, gallows, gibbets, and wild-fire. In the meane time, Great Spirits, you may inquire, 230 Whether your Kingdome shall be safe ; take heed, Lest your Dominions with Sedition bleed, While such an Atlas of feirce Anarchy Doth hold the reines, arming the Furious Fry With a pretence of Subjects Libertie. In other things you'll find Him true; But see, That if the froward njan grow harsh, you calme His roughnes with an ointment in the palme : Thus wee were pow'rfull in our Wishes too, If but some Cleopatrula did wooe 240 Our Antony, and intercede to blesse Our Prayers, like a noble Patronesse. Read Passenger, and weepe, but lay up nought; These are for Sand, not for a marble-vault : ON SIR A[NTHONY] W[ELDON] 89 No wrong is offered here to Antony, Except that 't is no vulgar Elogie. But wee had some r^ard unto the fame Of Reformation, though but a meer name, And to our Country too, lest men should say It were not England, but wild Africa. 250 Nor could wee suffer Christianitie To greive with such Exemplar Villanie ; And 't is provided by a strict Decree This nor in Church, nor Chappell, publish'd bee. ON THE DOMINICAL NOSE OF 0[LIVER] C[ROMWELL] 1 Now blesse us Heav'n ! what Prodigie is this ? A Blazing Star! a Metempsycosis Of fierie Meteors! a blew, bloody Ghost Transform'd to bee the Leader of an Host ! A Monument of that Mortalitie Which mines Kings, & Kingdoms doth defie; A lively Picture of Destruction, Impartiall Death, that spares & pityes none! The Spirit of a Sanguine Constitution! Our Great Reformers glorious Ammunition! The Rubrick of a pious Combination ! The rooting Crest of a Through-Reformation ! If 't were i' th' Foot, as 't is f th' Face, this Nose Might goe for One of Mars' s Peti-toes. A brave confounding Nose ! where you may looke And read the goodly Title of Pryn's Booke (The Levellers levelVd) and yet still wee feare Hereafter those curst Currs will nose the Beare. The Brass-hoof d Bull's dreadfull at more than home. Whose very breath with furious fires was borne. Their nostrills too, like Tunnells, vapour'd flame, For skin, arm'd likewise with a metall-frame ; ' ' O. C is written, and then deleted. 90 ON THE DOMINICAL NOSE OF The wakefull Dragon, as a Labell, pent I' th' reare, to make a compleat Battlement ; These Beasts * the Keepers of the Golden Fleece, Their Blessed Cause, were just of such a Peice. Without a wresting Comment it may passe For Sampson's mighty Jaw-bone of an Asse ! Scanderbeg's Sword, Goliah's Weavers-Beam, Alcides Club, the Fist of Polypheme, 30 The Giant's burly Hoofe with his Six Toes, Are but weake Shadows of this valiant Nose. A very sturdy, stout S' Morglay Thwack ; Knotty & tough ; squar'd w**" a barke & back : A Target-Nose ; a Nose Offensive, and Defensive ; Lord Protectour of the Land. True, trusty, Trojan-Gristles ; Flesh & Blood That stickles stoutly for the Publique Good I A Hoghen-moghen Nose ; a Teutch Commander ; A Roman-Duke ; a Sage, Republick-Pander. 40 The Quarter-staffe of Liberties & Lawes ; The generous Tip-staffe to the Holy Cause ; A Magazine! indeed an Armorie Of mischeife, ruine, and impietie ! O here 's a Knife & Voider for the nonce, To sweepe away the Devill's Scraps & Bones ! Come all yee Drums of these Reforming Times ! Is not this Nose the Reason to your Rimes ? Doe not the Bells chime just as that doth smell? To which Thought, Word, and Act, are paralell : 50 Are not your Lines so drawn, that each Saint goes, As if Hee allwayes follow'd his Deare Nose ? Sing what you will, t]je Ditty still doth close With this ; the Burden ever lie's i' th' Nose. No Nose of Wax ! no 1 no ! but better Mould ; A Silver Oare purpled with veines of Gold ! That Gold, that Metall, which if such Shifts hold Will touch & turne the very Age to Gold ! If wee beleeve the Macedonian, * They are thus described by Ovid, Epist. 12 ' Martis erat tauri,' &c. 0[LI\^R] C[ROMWELL] 91 The Mountain Athos weaies the shape of Man : 60 By counter-change of miracle this Creature Of Man & Manhood beares a Mountaine- Feature. Surmounted* to this Mount, it will amount By mounting parts, to a Mount Paramount. A Fire-brand that (as 't is fear'd) will clamber And mount aloft in state, like JOHX-A-CnA3rBER. Vesuvius, jEtna, yeeld but little streams Of Fury, match unto these whirling beams. A Xose KOT fiaxjiP, without a wager, A Constellation, like URSA MAIOR. 70 Hardnes of Heart ! or Heart of Oake ! firm Jelly ! In the wrong place, His Oxcellencie's Belly. Without all doubt (quoth Ricet) I'll tell you truly. Bugbeare-BuEULCUS with a Bulke unruly. The lofty Chaire-Xose of a Grand Committee! The best Artillerie of all the City ! A Dani-culverin ! a grey Granado ! A rufiing Spanish Count! an Adalantado! The Pulse of England's Fate ! whereby wee know The Scots most certaine finall Overthrow. 80 It will out-run a Race of rambling Red-Shanks : Tis thought to be the Soule o th* Horse of Ned Banks. K02M0n0AlTH2 }. Ran-tan ! H. LEA * Sur-mounted, or super-amounted, as if you vA say, mounted np, above the rest ... I tbongfat fit to give this Hint, because Words thus auSected are not to be used but with caution & excuse. . . . t A very npi^ht, or downright Clown (w<* y" will) much addicted to such vulgar terms of Asseveration ; whose Person is here brought in, casting a Figure to retrive & conjure up Another like himselfe : for this flitting VapOT, this ranging Metaphour, this Addle-egg, a Shitde-brain'd, painteid Pnrliew, a Renegado-Forme, this frantick Whirl^g, this trifling Runnagate, this any thing, this nothing, would be quite lost in a tardy Pursnte of serious Ciphers. t Kotr/umoXiTiis. A Citizen of y* Worid. Such are the Saints of our twice-&-thrice blessed Reformation. Shifting Vagabonds, that make the Earth their Thorough-faire & their Home too. In-&-ont Retsdners ! Off & on ! Goers & Comers ! Shufling Inmates, true sacred ungracious Libertines : that like a Sort of carelesse Pilgrims or bold Mendicant Friers, sneake up & down in every comer, and by a strange kind of Adoption, by way of Sanctified Plunder or Sequestration (for so Dominiu fuTidatur in gratid) take possession of each House as their own, fteely & fairely (such is their admirable courtesie & behaviour) ingenuously & lovingly divide shares, and quarter upon the Common Stock. Creatures, 93 ON THE DOMINICAL NOSE OF A Word & a Blow ! a Whip & away ! The French-man's Under'tanding o' t'e Foot Is now praunc'd up into this active Spout. The Quarrell is no more for Heart or Braine, But for the Nose of Oliver Tamberlaine ! There's Valour, & Discretion too ! enough To farce a Brainlesse Tub with scribling Stufife. 90 Sweare not feirce Bobadill (for Rime's sake Bombell) The Foot of Pharoah, but the Nose of Cromwell. No Idle Wen ! no barren Tympanie ! That still portends the Bearer's destinie. But a rich Bosse ! a fruitfuU Paragon ! Grave Wisdome's ripe Super-fcetation ! No aerie Puffe-past 1 march-pane-fripperie ! But a strong Crust of Immortalitie ! The Genius of Nations ! a Roundhead That cannot with One Common-wealth be bounded ! 100 A Snout, that, when it snuffs & puffs, and blowes, 'Tis call'd the Inundation of a Nose That drowns whole Worlds! a swelling Instrument, That frets into a spurious Excrement ! A Nose to firke the Whore of Babylon From her old querks of Superstition. The Trophee of a warlike Complement ! A Squib of the Perpetuall Parliament. A nimble, running Nose ; so sharpe & quick 'T would fit the Head o' th' Body Politique. no O for a Quill of that Arabian Wing ! To write this High & Everlasting Thing! Oh ! here 's a Theme for crouding Similies T' encounter with a S^gke of Villanies ! Like ScuDDER's* Independent resty Mare that have their Habitation every where, though for a need they can cram their whole Lively-hood into a Beggarly Knap-sack : Things, that stick upon the Skirts of a Land as close & fast as a Crab-louse, and yet at a dead lift can skip like a Flea into any Nation. Sweet Vermin ! mad Cattell ! a Generation of Vipers ! I know not how to decipher them ! * This SCUDDER an Assembly-Rook with the other COZENS a fierie- faced quarrelsome Citizen I have some reason to know ; with whom it was my fortune to travel into Wilt-shire. Being furnish'd w**" a Coach,. 0[LIVER] C[ROMWELL] 93 That would by no meanes beare the Cavalier ; Or like the Man himselfe sans Wit or Feare, After his journey preaching in a Chaire ; Or like Don COZENS w*'' his Cholerick Lookes, Which catch at All like tearing Tenter-hooks : 120 Such is this pow'rfull Nose ! The Mare is tam'd, And the Two Men are pretty well reclaim'd : All things submit at length ! but this still spurns, And kicks, & flings, & frisks, and turns & turns. Like the crackt Clapper of a crazy Bell, That chatters an immortall, dismal Knell ; Like a Dutch Peck-tun, that cries Victorie In crackling flames of martiall Surquedrie; Like the bent Beake of a fine, ougly Owle, That tunes the Shreikes of a tormented Soule : 130 Such is this o'regrown Nose ! The Bell may cease, The Tun burne out, the Owle can hold his peace ; All things are mortall ! but this chimes, and goes, A pure, eternall, standing, stately. Nose ! Like lovely AMBROSE, when the Scotch-man's Word Did threaten to devoure Him w*'^ his Sword * ; the Parson's Jade was allotted to a Friend of mine, & a true Roialist : whom because of his unruly tricks wee commonly stiled The Independent Mare. When wee came to our journey's end, the next day being Sun-day, M"" SC. was pleas'd to bestow a Serra. or two upon the House where wee lay: but finding himselfe very weary & tir'd w*!* travell, after a long Preface concerning the indifferent behaviour of Sitting or Standing in a Preacher, at last w** much reverence & devotion hee declin'd down- wards, & glued his Big Buttocks to a Great Chaire, placed at the Upper End of a Table for that purpose ; and in that posture deliver'd himselfe to his Auditorie all the time of his two tedious dull Sermons ; with such admirable action to boot, as if He & his Beast had bin both of a Haire, most nearly allyed in their Carriage & Disposition. * The Reader is to understand that about that time, when the first Insurrection was in Scot-Xs.'aA, there came One of that Nation to our Universitie of CAMBRIDGE, where amongst others falling into the company of J. AM BR. a man of no comely Visage, or pleasing discourse, he at last fell out with him : upon which occasion One of our Prime Witts did in the Scotck-maxis name frame a bold Challenge in Latine, which was iinediately sent unto his rough Antagonist: who upon the first View was mightily perplexed, and varied his swarthy Countenance into many terrible aspects, till at length hee was willing to conceive some releife from the last word of that feirce Invitation : illicb adorietur, he will presently adore thee : a strange Interpretation ! proceeding from a Person of so little reverence & beauty, such great learning & profound valour. 94 ON THE DOMINICAL NOSE OF Like an Huge Hercules in Poetrie, Whose roaring Bombards bellow to the Skie ; Like spruce Nasutus or wild Polyposus, Who ever & anon w"" nose doe pose us : 14° Such is this gracious Nose ! The Brown Boy 's lost, The Rimer crackt ; Those are but Names at most ! All things doe yeeld in time! but this holds out A Lusty Champion at every Bout. Like a bright Torch, that lights to open rapes, And generall massacres, which no man scapes ; Like a briske Taper, proudly to disguise Hell with the lustre of a Paradise ; Or like an Ignis fatmis, that doth run To draw us to a swift Perdition : 150 Such is this flaming Nose ! the Torch is out, The Taper 's spent, the Fire receives a rout : All things consume ! but this still burns & fumes. And fumes & bums, and stinks, yet ne're consumes. Like a vast Promontorie, that doth stand Threatning destructions both to Sea & Land; Like generating Smec. and All that can Bee say'd of Him by the Best Wit of Man ; Like a plumpe Pudding with fat, sweatie Poares, That, as it enters in the Throat, it goares: 160 For y* better apprehension of this Honourable Coplexion I have here inserted a Copy of the Defyance. Ne succenseas Domine, quod •vindictam inihi obsonare studeam injuriis tuis lacessitus : meus famelicus gladius prandeat necesse in tuo corpore, nisi quod came iud vilioris gustus fastidiat : nigru corpus index animi plus qudm Diabolici : at ego nulla reformido spectra ; Capessas igitur ensem, simulque designes locu, guando, et ubi pugnandum : a/ids invetues hostem, qui tibi practpiet eligendi vices, <&-» ubicunque invenerit, ilicb adorietur. Qui ita tuus, ut ipsa viscera intrare cupit. Ad Imagine tud. Nigra ursam. Thus in English. Sir, you may not take it ill, that ladesire to glut my revenge exalted to an appetite by your injuries : my hungry Sword must needs dine upon your body, unlesse happily it may loath & abhor flesh of such a vile unsavourie last : that black carcase is an evident Signe of a mind worse than the Devill; but however I fear no apparitions : therefore provide your weapon, and withall designe the place, when & where wee must fight : otherwise y" shall find an enemy, that will soon instruct y" in the course of an election ; and w^^kjut any delay, in good earnest will embrace you at the first opportunitie of our next meeting. Who is so yours, as that he covets to enter into your very Bowells. At your own Signe, the Black Beare. 0[LIVER] C[ROMWELL] 95 Such is this various Nose ! The Promontorie Slips out of sight, and is no more a Storie; The black & sootie Cacodaemon Smec. With poor Presbyterie hath broake his Neck: All things depart & dye, but this alone ! The Pudding hath two Ends, but this hath none ! Like the Ship LiBERTlE with her full Sailes And fifty Peices, in successfull Gales; Or like the SwiFT-SuRE with her Faster Hold, And Rebell-Rangers, confident & bold ; 170 Or like the Speaker with her Rhetorick Of Ord'nance, Colours, & Disputing DiCK*. Such is this flaring NoSE ! the Libertie Is split ; the Rest now not so fast and free ! All things decay at last ! but this remaines With tackle tight & stiffe, for endlesse gaines. A Nose too harsh for Rythm ! who playes upon 't. With Xerxes doth but whip the Hellespont ; Or like a senselesse Mad-man lash the Aire, For by its Influence 't is every where ! 180 'T is here ! & there ! an actual!, vertuall Nose ; Which, as the Weapon cures, so wounds his Foes. A Way-bit to the Rest ! The Text supposes The short-hair'd Brethren yet may weare long Noses ! A proud ambitious Nose ! that still doth rise Ten hand-fulls higher than his towring Eyes. An Iron-Whifler to the Brazen Front 1 A Nose, that would have fitted John-a-Gaunt! When He & Bradshaw meet, you would suppose The Devill had 3". Dunstane by the Nose. 190 A profound learned Nose ! that can by art Make a just judgment of the Subtle . Most neer of kin to th' Mouth ; for when it stretches Porcupine- like, it can make heav'nly Speeches! As Cuck-holds gigg their Homes, which breake away, * An Adventurer in that Ship, One that desiring to be wise takes greatest delight starting Questions & resolving Riddles ; by his profession a zealous Cooke, or (if y" please) Fritter-Seller of Great Brittain. 96 ON THE NOSE OF 0[LIVER] C[ROMWELL] And sprout fresh Kipara, Kipaa, Kipa, So (like a branching Pedigree) it growes ! A Repetition Nose ! a Nose ! a Nose ! A bonny Nose ! a Nose for Sweet Pig-wiggin ! An eloquent Nose ! a Nose for Oratour Higgin ! aoo A ranting Nose ! a Nose for Radamantkus I A Nose that like the Tower-Guns doth dant us ! A terrible Nose ! a Nose that will affright us ! A sharpe-set Nose ! a Nose with Teeth, to bite us. A Nose so Glutton-like, it makes All even, Devouring with a Stomack like a Stephen!* And snoares aloud, like that Geneva-'^oxs^, Damnation-Belly-fuU at every Course! An angry Nose ! w"'', if it once take snuffe, Will blow us all to Fitters with a puffe! 3io A Nose whose super-eminent Surplusage Is far above Gamaliel Ratsey's Visage. All wee can either say, or thinke (God knows) Is but the Superfluitie of Nose. Well then ! to end ! because Tautoligie Cannot expresse his Geneologie ; I'll only wish, that when the World is made By the large Drops of this All -conquering Blade, A Common-shewer of nasty Over-throws, That Hee & His were Nothing but All Nose. aao * St. M. once a Grave Divine of the illiterate Mixt Assembly, who at a Wedding Feast having eaten a little more than his Share of a-Jole of Salmon, and afterwards taken in a full Quart of Sack for disgestion, most devoutly cried out. Blessed be God! how good the Creatures are, being us'd with moderation ! CHARACTER A REBELL Is his own Carver, and will rather mince the Kingdome into Sippets than want a Dish for himselfe. His Principles are very various & full of contradiction ; and yet with a mighty confidence hee delivers out such stuffe for Canonicall Truth. Hee builds up new Doctrines as an Altar of Testitnonie to his deare Profession, w"'', if well examined, will bee found, in their clashing varietie, to oppose it : however his actions shall never contradict the maine Scope of his dire intentions to depose the King.* Hee uses the name of King & Parliament, -^s Witches & Conjurers are reported to use the Holy Language, onely for lo mischeife : his Stratagems (like their Charms) are built upon the strong imagination of a fulsome Fancy ; which the blind Multitude accepts for pure Devotion, and upon that account will follow their Leader up to the very Eares in blood. . . . The ■ words of his mouth are softer than butter, having tvarr in his heart : smoother than oile, & yet very swords. This . upon the word of a King, that knew it very well. It opens like a Sepulchre, and swallowes all without remorse, Kings, Princes, & their Diadems, or any thing, that weares the badge of Loialltie. A false tongue is .the Compasse, by which hee 30 steeres the course of his insurrections, devising mischeifes like a sharpe rasour working deceitfully. Psal. 5a. a. In will & desire, however his Conversation appeare in the habit of a demure Holinesse, hee can bee no lesse than an Atheist, for < * It was well observed by a Learned Prince, who afterwards felt it by a sad Experience, that there are some men, who more malicidusly than ignorantly, will put no difference between Reformation /i?a/j-^)', notorious as a highwayman- between 1603 and 1605, when he was hanged. He wore a hideous mask. Cp. Jonson, Alchemist, I. i., 'a face cut . . worse than Gamaliel Ratsey's,' and the D.N.B. 219. shewer, sewer. Page 97. A Rkbell. I. 9. note, last line, the Diuell of&'c. I don't know what should follow. Page 98, 1. 25. Goverment. This form of the word is not uncommon. II. 49-5 la.. Prayer, "ufi^ the Roiall P. made in behalf e of a Charitable Person, that God -would not deliver him into the -will of his enemyes, Charles I of Laud ? 1. 61. his R. Booke, his royal book, Eikon Basilike. Page 99,1. 63. amercenarie Villaine,]ohnMihonvihostEiionoklasies appeared Oct. 6, 1649. I. 64. a Visit at Hampton-Court. Charles I during his stay at Hampton Court (Aug. 24-Nov. II, 1647) was in negotiation with the leaders of the army. Perhaps Tubbe implies that Cromwell had visited him at this time. II. 82-3. Tom Stukely (a bankrupt {by Mr. Fuller's pencill) in his loyalty as well as his estate). See Fuller's Worthies (ed. 1811), i. 284. • Tubbe's list of Stukeley's titles is larger than Fuller's, and agrees closely with those given by Stukeley in a passport on his arrival at Cadiz in 1578 (Simpson, School of Shakspere, i. 128). Fuller began to write his Worthies before 1650, but the book was only published in 1662 after Fuller's death. It is remarkable that Tubbe, who died in 1655, should have been able to quote from it. Possibly the form in which he saw Fuller's account of Stukeley differed a little from that afterwards published, or he may have had some second source. U. 95-6. like the Humersome Lord, hee falls deepely in love with the King. The reference is to Beaumont and Fletcher's Humorous Lieutenant, Act IV, sc. vi. Lieut. ' Oh, King, that thou knew'st I loved thee, how I loved thee ! ' &c. Page 101, 11. 154-6. talkes profanely of God's visible appearing in the Mount, when {alas Poor Peer .>) hee was lurkingbelow with Eyes winking for safety in a Saw-pit. Cromwell, in his letter to Speaker Lenthall after his victory of Dunbar, dated ' Dunbar 4th Sept. 1650', writes that before the battle they were consoled by the thought ' That because of their num- bers, because of their advantages, because of their confidence, because of our weakness, because of our strait, we were in the Mount, and in the Mount the Lord would be seen ' (Carlyle's Cromwell). Tubbe may not mean that Cromwell was himself lurking in a saw-pit during the battle. He may be attributing Cromwell's words to an imaginary rebel who was also a coward. NOTES 115 11. 160-7. ^he bravery of Cethegus, to tread upon the World, when it falls . . . Who would not fall with all the world about him ? Bravery, 'bravado'. Cethegus was one of the Catilinarian conspirators. Cp. Cic. in Cat. IV. vii. 11:' versatur mihi ante oculos adspectus Cethegi et furor in vestra caede bacchantis.' Tubbe, however, as Professor Bensly points out, is clearly referring to Jonson's Catiline (ill. i) ; Cat. ' That I could reach the axle, where the pins are Which bolt this frame ; that I might pull them out, And pluck all into Chaos, with myself ! Cethegus : What ! are we wishing now ? Cat. Yes, my Cethegus ; Who would not fall with all the world about him ? Ceth. Not I that would stand on it, when it falls.' I. 170 note, more . . envious than the Man in the Fable, hee will . . bee Starke blind, to procure the losse of One Eye in Another. Prof. Bensly quotes from Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy (l, 2. 3. 7) : ' As he did in Aesope, loose one eye willingly, that his fellow might loose both,' where Shilleto (i, p. 306) gives the reference ' Invidus in the Fable De Avaro et Invido '. The Fable, which is not to be found in Aesop or Babrius, has been kindly supplied me by Dr. McKerrow from Fabulae Aesopicae (Lugd. I57l)> P- 280, no. 252 : ' Invidus. Volens explorare sensus hominum luppiter misit Apollinem in terras, qui voluntates humanas cognosceret. Hie primum incidit in auarum vnum, & alterum inuidum. Quibuscu coUocutus, copiam illis facit petendi quod vellent. Id enim quod vterque petiisset, ratu se habiturum, sed ea lege, vt quod sibi alter petiisset, alteri prasstaretur duplum. NuUo igitur pacto induci potuit auarus, quicquam sibi vt peteret : at inuidus erui vnum ocu- lum sibi petiit, vt auarus ambos amitteret.' Dr. McKerrow says that a version of the Fable is found in Aesopi Phrygis et aliorum fabulae (Paris 1564), p. 219, as no. 22 of ' Aniani [sc. Auiani] Fabulae ', and another in Caxton's Aesop where it is no. 17 of ' Fables of Auian' {Fables of Aesop, ed. J. Jacobs, 1889, ii. 236). The original form in Latin elegiacs is no. 22 oi Aviani Fabulae, ed. Robinson Ellis (1887). Sultan Serapha, who . . would spend an ounce of Turkish blood to draw a drop of Christian. I have not found Tubbe's source for this. Professor Bensly says ' Serapha ' = ' sherif, ' noble ' ; a title of the descendants of Mahomet through his daughter Fatima. He quotes Purchas' Pilgrimage, Bk. VI, ch. xi, § 2 ' Of the kings of the Seriffian family ', and p. 789 ' they entered into Marocco, and there poisoned the King, causing Amet SerifFo to be proclaimed in his stead. King of Marocco.' a Peacock . . eats his own dung, lest any m.an should find it. Pliny, Nat. Hist., xxix. 38 : ' significandum est pavones fimum suum resorbere tradi, invidentes hominum utilitatibus.' Page 102, 11. 17 1-3. his Soveraigne . . whom He accounts {as it was openly profess' d by his Com-rades in their bold Remonstrance) his Capitall Enemy. A Remonstrance of the Council of general officers, the leading spirits being Ireton and Ludlow, was presented to Parliament on November 20, 1648. It insisted that the King should be brought to justice ' as the capital cause of all '. When the House of Commons demurred to this proposal, it was subjected to ' Pride's Purge '. II. 200-4. like apitifull Tinker . . . Colonell Fox. Cleveland, London- Diurnall (1647) p. 8 : ' And now I speak of Reformation, vous avez Fox, the Tinker ; the liveliest Embleme of it that may be ; For what did this Parliament ever goe about to reforme, but Tinkerwise, in mending one I a ii6 NOTES hole they made three.' (G. Gascoigne, A Catalogue of Abuses, has the same taunt : ' When tinkers make no more holes than they found Even then (my priests) may you make holiday.') Page 104, 1. 247, Typhon; or Typhoeus, a giant said to have fought against the gods, and to have been killed by ^us' lightning, and buried under Mt. Etna. IL 254-5. Lutum sanguine maceratum, a translation of m/Xov dlfuvn. irftjn)- paiUvov applied to the Emperor Tiberius when a boy by his tutor in allusion to his sluggish and cruel disposition (Suetonius, Tib. 57 ; Erasmus, Adagia ' Lutum &c,' Ch. II. cent. x. 39). I am indebted for this note to Professor E. Bensly. 1. 255. A Sowter and a Souldan, ana, i.e. a souter (or shoemaker) and a sultan in equal quantities. Cp. Sir T. More, Rich. Ill (1513), ' And in a stage-play all the people know right wel that he that playeth the sow- dayne is percase a sowter' (quoted in N.E.D.). There was perhaps a proverb in which ' souter ' and ' sultan ' were juxtaposed. The word ana as used in a recipe is explained in the N.E.D., as Professor Bensly pointed out to me. Here also we have a quotation from Tubbe's favourite Cleveland : ' Flea-bitten Synod, an Assembly brew'd Of Clerks & Elders ana ' (Mixt Assembly, 1651). 1. 260. ttfter a Corruption of Retells comes a Generation of Loiall Creatures. The philosophical commonplace ' Corruptio unius, generatio alterius' is frequently quoted. Cp. the play Pedantius (ed. 1905) 1. 1102, corruptio Croboli, generatio Ped^tii ' and note. Page 104. Meditations. Is it possible that the form of T. Traheme's Centuries of Meditations was in any way suggested by Tubbe's work ? INDEX OF NAMES Almack, Mr. E., 56. Ambrose, Isaac, 93. Astley, Sir Jacob, 62. Austin, William, 22. Barrett, John, 48. Beale, Dr. William, 8, 9. Beeston, William, 6. Bernard, Elizabelii, 43. Bernard, Francis, 44, 57. Bernard, Dr. Samuel, 6, 16, 17, 39, 41, 44. 47. 48. 58- Bertie, Robert, Lord Willonghby de Eresby, 5. Boit, miniaturist, 27. Bradshaw, John, 189. Brooke, Lord, see Greville. Broughton, Bess, 78. Brown, Mrs., 33. Chaderton, Dr. Lawrence, 10. Charles I, 10, 11, 14, 15, 17, 3°i 3^. 47, 48, 60, 68-70, 98, 99. Charles, Prince of Wales (Charles II), 10. Cleveland, John, 9, 10, 60. Cole, Bernard, 19, 25, 46. Cole, Charles, 25. Cole, William, 19, 23, 25, 34, 39, 41, 44-8. Comellis, Richgen, 6. Cowley, Abraham, 10. Crashaw, Richard, 10, 57-9. Cromwell, Oliver, 9, 10, 59, 61, 89-96, 100. Cndworth, Ralph, 10. Cuffe, — , 23,25. Dacres, Capt., 64. Dering, Sir Edward, 43, 44. Dering, Mary, Lady Dering, 43, 44. Dering, Robert, 6. Deverenx pedigree, 3. Deverenx, Lady Frances, su Seymour, Frances. Devereux, Robert, and Earl of Essex, 2. Devereux, Robert, 3rd Earl of Essex, 3-7. 12. 14- Dobell, Mr. B., 54, Donne, John, 18. Dowsing, Will, 9. Dmry, Elizabeth, 18. Drury, Sir William, 18. Earle, Sir Walter, 73. Elector Palatine, the, 10. Emely, Lieut, 63. Essex, Earls of, see Devereux. Evans, Lieut., 63. Fairfax, Thomas, Lord Fairfax, 15. Faux, Guy, 73. Fuller, Thomas, 99. Gibbes, Robert, 55, 56. Gibson, Captain, 63. Greville, Robert, 2nd Lord Brooke, 83- Hall, Bishop Joseph, 10, 50, 82. Hampden, John, 83. Hawley, Sir Edward, 63. Hay, James, Earl of Carlisle, 4. Hendriks, Mr. F., 56. Henry, Prince of Orange, 5. Herbert, Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, 13. Hertford, Earl of. Marquis ot, see Seymour. Hilliard, John, 48. Holland, Earl of, see Rich. Inchiquin, Lord, see O'Brien. James, Duke of York (James II), 13, 49. James, — , 88. Jonson, Ben, 10, 58, 60, 65. Killegrewe, Captain, 63. King, Edward, 10. Lamb, Mr., 14. Langdale, Sir Marmaduke, 18. ii8 INDEX OF NAMES Lely, Sir Peter, 2'j. Lisle, Viscount, see Sydney. Maisterson, Henry, 7, 9. Manchester, Earl of, see Montagu. Maratti, Carlo, 27. Marshall, Stephen, 06. Maurice, Prince of Orange, 5. Meame, Barbara, 47. Meame, Samuel, 39-41, 43, 47, 50 note, 55, 56- Milton, John, 20, 61, 100. Montagu, Edward, Earl of Manchester, 9- More, Henry, 10. Myn, Mr., 45. Neale, Mr., 14. O'Brien, Murrongh, ist Earl of Inchi- qnin, 15. Oxford, Earl of, see Vere. Paine, Mr., 14. Peacock, Captain James, 39, 41. Pembroke, Earl of, see Herbert. Petro-paulus, E., 11, 59. Piggot, Mr., 14. Pirkins, Edward, II no(e. Proud, Sir John, 62. Prynne, William, 89. Pnlleyn, Octavins, 51, 55, 56. Pym, John, 83. Randall, Mrs., 40. Randolph, Robert, 57. Randolph, Thomas, 10, 57-60, 66. Read, Ensign, 63. Rich, Henry, Earl of Holland, 3, 4, 7. Rich, Robert, 2nd Earl of Warwick, 3, 4 note, 7. Risley, Thomas, 12. Rivers, George, 22. Rogars, Charles, 6. Russell, Rachel, Lady Russell, 13, 27. Russell, William, Lord Russell, 13. Salendine, Mrs., 33. Sancroft, William, 10, • Scott, Matthew, 20-2. Scudder, Henry, 92. Serapha, Sultan, loi. Seymour, Frances, Marchioness of Hert- ford, 3, 7, II, 12, 20-3, 25, 31, 38, 41, 47. 48, SI- Seymour, Lady Jane, 20. Seymour, William, Earl, and afterwards Marquis, of Hertford, 3, 4, 11, 12, 16, 58, 80. Shakespeare, W., 57, 60. Sharpe, Mr., 33. Shipton, Madam (Mother), 78. Shirte, Robert, 48. Sidley (Sir John ?), 88. Skelton, John, 10. Skippon, Lieut., 63. Slaughter, Mr., 14. Southampton, Earls of, see Wriothesley. Spencer, Mrs., 14. Spencer, Anne, 27, 28. Spencer, Elizabeth (Lady Craven), 18, 27, 28. Spencer, John, 26, 28. Spencer, Katharine, 28, 66. Spencer, Margaret, 27, 28. Spencer, Penelope, Lady Spencer ot Wormleighton, 3-5, 7-9, 14, 18, 19, 26-8, 30, 36,41,51, 52,81. Spencer, Richard, 28, 42, 43. Spencer, Robert, 2nd Earl of Sunder- land, 27, 28, Spencer, Thomas, 26-9, 32, 35, 37, 42. Spencer, William, Lord Spencer of Wormleighton, 3, 4, 14, 27, 28. Spinola, Marquis, 5. Stanley, Thomas, 57. Stone, H., 27. Stukeley, Thomas, 99. Suckling, Sir John, 56, 58-60. Sydney, Lady Dorothy (Lady Sunder- land), 22, 28. Sydney, Robert, Viscount Lisle (Earl of Leicester), 2, 28. Symcots, Anne, 18, 19. Symcots, Penelope, 18, 22, 68. Thanet, Lord, see Tufton. Torshel, Samuel, 22. Tubb, Richard, 50. Tubbe, Anne, 2, 4-6. Tubbe, Elizabeth, 49. Tubbe, Henry, passim. Tubbe, Captain John, 2, 4, 5, 14, 23, 62-4. Tubbe, Robert Hay, 4-6, 14, 23, 25, 33. 34. 40-2, 45. 46, 49. 5°, 79- Tufton pedigree, 24, 37. Tufton, Frances, Countess of Thanet, 39. 40- Tufton, John, 2nd Earl of Thanet, 23, 24. 31. 35» 36, 38, 40. 42- Tufton, John, 23, 24, 30, 36. Tufton, Margaret, Countess of Thanet, 31. Tufton,LadyMargaret (Lady Coventry), 24. 39. 40- Tufton, Richard, 23, 24, 30, 36, 59. Tufton, Thomas, 23, 24, 30, 36. INDEX OF NAMES 119 Van Dyck, Sir Anthony, 27. Vere (de), Henry, gth Earl of Oxford, 5.63. Vere, Sir Horace, 5. Vere, Sir John, 63. Vernon, Mrs., 14. Warwick, Earl of, see Rich. Webbe (schoolmaster at Croydon), 2, 6. Weldon, Sir Anthony, 82-9. Whaley (Whalley), Edward, 15. White, Lady, 14. Willonghby, Lord, see Bertie. Wilson, Arthur, 4. Winniff, John, 23, 25, 48 note. Winniff, Bishop Thomas, 19, 23, 25, 45. Winwood, Sir Ralph, .;. ^ Wray, Mr., 33. Wriothesley, Elizabeth (Vernon), Countess of Southampton, 13. Wriothesley, Elizabeth (Leigh), Coun- tess of Southampton, 14. Wriothesley, Henry, 3rd Earl of South- ampton, 2-5, 7-9, 14. WrioOiesley, Lady Penelope, Spencer, Penelope. Wriothesley, Lady Rachel (Lady Russell), 13, 27. Wriothesley, Rachel, Countess of Southampton, 27. Wriothesley, Thomas, 4th Earl of Southampton, 7-9, 12, 14, 27. Wynne, Sir Thomas, 64. INDEX OF PLACES Althorp, 27, Annathwaite, 10. Ashford, Kent, 23, 73. Berwick, 15. Breda, 5. Bury St. Edmunds, 15. Cambridge, 9-12. Cambridge, Emmanuel College, 10. Cambridge, St. John's College, 2, 6-10, 20. Cambridge, Sidney Sussex College, 44. Carisbrooke, 12. Carlisle, 15. Croydon, 2, 5, 6, 16, 44, 47, 48. Deptford, 45. Essex, 18, Gertmgdenberg, 62. Gravesend, 38. Hampton Court, 99. Hispaniola, 49. Hothfield, Kent, 23, 25, 26, 31, 32, 34, 36-81 40, 42-4, 47. Ireland, 15. Kent, 35, 40, Lincoln, 23, 25, London, Cheapside, 12. London, Drury House (afterwards Craven Honse^, 18, 19, London, Essex Hoase, Strand, 11, 12, 14.17. 23, 25. 3i,4'- London, Gray's Inn, 19. London, Hatton House, 18, 22, 36, 68. Madrid, 9. Oxford University, 1 3. Oxford, Magdalen College, 6 note. Pluckney (Pluckley), Kent, 43. Rainham, Kent, 38. Scotland, 13. Sherborne, 19. Southampton, 2, 4, 5, 7, 47, 48. Surrey, 15. Swanscombe, Kent, 87. Terheyden, 62, 63. Titchfield, 4, 12. Trengoffe, 2. Wales, 13. Warleggon, 2, 47, 48. Welbeck, 27. Westminster, 15, Woolwich, 50. Wye, Kent, 37. Oxford ; Horace Hart Printer to the University