Or are for being there; his best books, plays,
Where, meeting godly scenes, perhaps he prays.
His first set prayer was for his father, ill
And sick-that he might die; that had, until
The lands were gone he troubled God no more,
And then ask'd him but his right-that the whore
Whom he had kept, might now keep him; she
spent,
They left each other on even terms; she went
To Bridewell, he unto the wars, where want
Hath made him valiant, and a lieutenant
He is become; where, as they pass apace,
He steps aside, and for his captain's place
He prays again-tells God he will confess
His sins; swear, drink, dice, and whore thenceforth less,
On this condition, that his captain die
And he succeed; but his prayer did not.
Both cashier'd came home, and he is braver now
Than his captain; all men wonder, few know how ; Can he rob? 'No.' Cheat? 'No.' Or doth he
His own? 'No; Fidus, he is thy dear friend; That keeps him up.' I would thou wert thine own,
Or hadst as good a friend as thou art one.
No present want, nor future hope made me
Desire, as once I did, thy friend to be ;
But he had cruelly possess'd thee then,
And as our neighbours, the Low-Country men,
1. 53. So St. MS.; 1669, father's ill
Being-whilst they were loyal, with tyranny
Oppress'd-broke loose, have since refused to be
Subject to good kings, I found even so,
Wert thou well rid of him, thou'dst have no moe. 80
Couldst thou but choose, as well as love, to none
Thou shouldst be second. Turtle and Damon
Should give thee place in songs, and lovers sick
Should make thee only love's hieroglyphic.
Thy impress should be the loving elm and vine,
Where now an ancient oak with ivy twine.
Destroy'd thy symbol is! O dire mischance!
And O vile verse! And yet our Abraham Fraunce
Writes thus, and jests not. Good Fidus for this
Must pardon me; satires bite when they kiss.
But as for Natta, we have since fallen out;
Here on his knees he pray'd; else we had fought.
And because God would not he should be winner,
Nor yet would have the death of such a sinner,
At his seeking our quarrel is deferr'd.
I'll leave him at his prayers, and, as I heard,
His last; and, Fidus, you and I do know
I was his friend, and durst have been his foe,
And would be either yet; but he dares be
Neither yet; sleep blots him out and takes in
The mind, you know, is like a table-book ;
The old unwiped, new writing never took.
Hear how the ushers' checks, cupboard and fire,
I pass'd-by which degrees young men aspire
In court. And how that idle and she state
-When as my judgment cleared-my soul did hate
How I found there-if that my trifling pen
Durst take so hard a task-kings were but men,
And by their place more noted, if they err;
How they and their lords unworthy men prefer; 110 And, as unthrifts, had rather give away
Great sums to flatterers, than small debts pay.
So they their greatness hide, and greatness show,
By giving them that which to worth they owe.
What treason is, and what did Essex kill,
Not true treason, but treason handled ill;
And which of them stood for their country's good,
Or what might be the cause of so much blood;
He said she stunk; and men might not have said
That she was old before that she was dead.
His case was hard to do or suffer; loth
To do, he made it harder, and did both.
Too much preparing lost them all their lives;
Like some in plagues kill with preservatives.
Friends, like land soldiers in a storm at sea,
Not knowing what to do, for him did pray.
They told it all the world, where was their wit?
Cuffe's putting on a sword might have told it.
And princes must fear favourites more than foes,
For still beyond revenge ambition goes.
How since her death with sumpter-horse that Scot
Hath rid, who, at his coming up, had not
A sumpter-dog. But till that I can write
Things worth thy tenth reading (dear Nick), goodnight.
BOTH robb'd of air, we both lie in one ground;
Both whom one fire had burnt, one water drown'd.
Two, by themselves, each other, love and fear,
Slain, cruel friends, by parting have join'd here.
By children's births, and death, I am become
So dry, that I am now mine own sad tomb.
Out of a fired ship, which by no way
But drowning could be rescued from the flame,
Some men leap'd forth, and ever as they came
Near the foes' ships, did by their shot decay;
So all were lost, which in the ship were found,
They in the sea being burnt, they in the burnt ship
drowned.
Under an undermined and shot-bruised wall
A too-bold captain perish'd by the fall,
Whose brave misfortune happiest men envied,
That had a town for tomb, his bones to hide.
1. 4. 1635, towre for tomb
A LAME BEGGAR.
I am unable, yonder beggar cries,
To stand, or move; if he say true, he lies.
Your mistress, that you follow whores, still taxeth
'Tis strange that she should thus confess it, though 't be true.
A LICENTIOUS PERSON.
Thy sins and hairs may no man equal call;
For, as thy sins increase, thy hairs do fall.
If in his study he hath so much care
To hang all old strange things, let his wife beware.
Thy father all from thee, by his last will,
Gave to the poor; thou hast good title still.
Thy flattering picture, Phryne, is like thee,
Only in this, that you both painted be.
1. 1. 1650, like to thee
Philo with twelve years' study hath been grieved
To be understood; when will he be believed?
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