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in law, for despising the continual ad- martyrd by Hinguar the Dane. See monitions of Lot. Then, calling to the
Speed, L. viii, C. ii. thunders, lightning, and fires, he bids lxxii. Sigbert, tyrant of the West-Saxons, them heare the call and command of
slaine by a swinheard. God, to come and destroy a godlesse Ixxiii. Edmund, brother of Athelstan, slaine by a nation. He brings them down with
theefe at his owne table. Malmesb. some short waruing to other nations to lxxiv. Edwin, son to Edward the younger, for take heed.
lust depriv'd of his kingdom, or rather by k. Moabitides, or Phineas. The epitasis
faction of monks, whome he hated ; togewhereof may lie in the contention, first,
ther [with] the impostor Dunstan. between the father of Zimri and Elea- Ixxv. Edward, son of Edgar, murder'd by his zer, whether he [ought] to have slain
step-mother. To which may be inserthis son without law? Next, the ambas
ed the tragedies stirr d'up betwixt the sadors of the Moabites, expostulating
monks and priests about mariage. about Cosbi, a stranger and a noble wo- Ixxvi. Etheldred, son of Edgar, a slothful king; man, şlain by Phineas.
the ruin of his land by the Danes. It may be argued about reformation lxxvii. Ceaulin, king of the West-Saxons, for and punishment illegal, and, as it were,
tyrannie depos'd and banish't ; and de by tumult. After all arguments driven home, then the word of the Lord lxxviii. The slaughter of the monks of Bangor may be brought, acquitting and ap
by Edelfride, stirr'd up, as is said, by proving Phineas.
Ethelbert, and ke by Austine the monke; Ivi. Christus Patiens. The Scene, in the
because the Britains would not receave the garden. Beginning, from the comming
rites of the Roman church. See Bede, thither, till Judas betraies, and the of
Geffrey Monmouth, and Holinshed, p. ficers lead him away. The rest by
104. Which must begin with the conMessage and Chorus.
vocation of British Clergie by Austin to His agony may receav noble expres
determine superfluous points, which by sions,
them were refused. Ivii. Christ born.
lxxix. Edwin, by vision, promis'd the kingdom of liij. Herod massacring, or Rachel weeping.
Northumberland on promise of his converMatt, ii.
sion; and therein establish't by Rodoald, lxix. Christ bound.
king of [the] East-Angles. Ix. Chrisl crucifi'd.
1xxx. Oswin, king of Deira, slaine by Oswie Ixi. Christ risen.
his friend, king of Bernitia, through inlxii. Lazarus. John, xi.
stigation of fatterers. See Holinsh. p.
115. lxxxi. Sigibert, of the East-Angles, keeping companie with a person excomm
mmunicated, BRITISH TRAGEDIES,
slaine by the same man in his house, according as the bishop Cedda had forc
told. Jxjii. The cloister-king Constans set up by lxxxii. Egfride, king of the Northumbers, slaine Vortiger. Venutius, husband to Car
in battle against the Picts ; having betismandua.
fore wasted Ireland, and made warre for Ixiv. Vortiger poison'd by Roena,
no reason on men that ever lou'd the En. Ixv, Vortiger immurd. Vortiger marrying
glish; forewarn'd alo by Cuthbert not Roena. See Speed. Reproov'd by Vo
lo fight with the Ficts. din, archbishop of London. Speed. lxxxiii. Kinewulf, king of the West-Saxons, The massacre of the Britains by Hengist
slaine by Kineard in the house of one of in thire cups at Salisbury plaine.
his concubins. Malmsbury.
lxxxiv. Gunthildis, the Danish ladie, with her Ixvi. Sigher, of the East-Saxons, revolted
husband Palingus, and her son, slaine by from the faith, and reclaimed by Jaru
the appointment of the traitor Edrick, in mang
king Ethelred's days. Holinsh. L. vii. lxvü. Ethelbert, of the East-Angles, slain by
C. v. together with the massacre of the
Danes at Oxford. Speed.
poyson'd by his wife Ethelburge, Offa's lxviii. Sebert slaine by Penda, after he had left
daughter; who dyes miserably also, in his kingdom. See Holiushed, p. 116.
beggery, after adultery, in a nunnery. Ixix. Wulfer slaying his tow sons for beeing
Speed in Bithrick.
lxxxvi. Alfred, in disguise of a minstrel, discovers lxx, Osbert, of Northumberland, slain for ta
the Danes' negligence; sets on [lhem) vishing the wife of Bernbocard, and the
with a mightie slaughter. About the Danes brought in. See Stow, Holinsh,
same tyme the Devonshire men rout L. vi. C. xii. And especially Speed, L.
Hubba, and slay him. viii. C. ii.
lxxxvïi. Athelstan exposing his brother Edwin ta bxi, Edmund, last king of the East-Angles,
the sea, and repenting.
Ixxxviii, Edgar slaying Ethelwold for false play
caus’d the victorie, &c. Scotch story, p. in wooing. Wherein may be set out
155 &c. his pride, and lust, which he thought to xcix. Kenneth, who, having privily poison'd close by favouring monks and building
Malcolm Duffe that his own son might monasteries. Also the disposition of
succeed, is slain by Fenella. Scotch woman in Elfrida towards her hus
Hist. p. 157, 158, &c. band. [Peck proposes, and justly, C, Macbeth. Reginning at the arrivall of I think, to read cloke instead of close.]
Malcolm at Mackduffe. The matter of Ixxxix. Swane beseidging London, and Ethelred
Duncan may be express't by the ape repuls't by the Londoners.
pearing of his ghost, xc. Harold slaine in battel, by William the
Norman. The first scene may begin
LYCIDAS. and brother dissuading him. xci. Edmund Ironside defeating the Danes In this Monody, the author bewails a learned at Brentford ; with his combat with Ca
friend, unfortunately drowned in his passage nute.
from Chester on the Irish seas, 1637. And by xcii. Edmund Ironside murder'd by Edrick the occasion foretells the ruin of our corrupted traitor, and reveng'd by Canute.
clergy, then in their height, xciii. Gunilda, daughter to king Canute and [Edward King, the subject of this Monody,
Emma, wife to Henry III. emperour, was the son of sir John King, knight, secretary accus'd of inchastitie ; defended by her
for Ireland, under queen Elizabeth, James the English page in combat against a giant- first, and Charles the first. He was sailing like adversary; who by him at two blows
from Chester to Ireland, on a visit to his is slaine, &c. Speed in the life of Ca- friends and relations in that country: these nute,
were, his brother sir Robert King, knight; xciv. Hardiknule dying in his cups: an exam- and his sisters, Anne wife of sir George Caulple to riot.
field lord Claremont, and Margaret, abovexcv. Edward the Confessor's divorsing and im- nientioned, wife of sir George Loder, chief prisoning his noble wise Editha, God
justice of Ireland ; Edward King bishop of win's daughter. Wherin is showed his
Elphin, by whom he was baptized ; and Wilover-affection to strangers, the cause liam Chappel, then dean of Cashel, and proof Godwin's insurrection. Wherein
vost of Dublin college, who had been his tutor Godwin's forbearance of battel, prais’d;
at Christ's college Cambridge, and was afterand the English moderation on both wards bishop of Cork and Ross, and in this passides, magnifi'd, His (Edward's] slack- toral is probably the same person that is styled nesse to redresse the corrupt clergie, old Damoetas, v. 36. When, in calm weather, and superstitious prætence of chas- not far from the English coast, the ship, a very titie,
crazy vessel, a fatal and perfidious bark, struck on a rock, and suddenly sunk to the bottom with all that were on board, nol one escaping, Aug. 10, 1637. King was now only twenty
five years old. He was perhaps a native of IreSCOTCH STORIES, OR RATHER BRI.
land. TISH OF THE NORTH PARTS,
At Cambridge, he was distinguished for his piety,
and proficiency in polite literature. He has
no inelegant copy of Latin iambics prefixed to xcvi. Athirco slain by Natholochus, whose a Latin comedy called Senile Odium, acted at
daughters he had ravish'!; and this Na- Queen's college, Cambridge, by the youth of
Nec flagra Megæræ ferrea horrendụm into xcvii, Duffe and Donwald. A strange story
Venen3 nulla, præter illa dulcia xcviii. Haie, the plowman, who, with his two Amoris ; atque his vim abstulere noxiam
sons that were at plow, running to the bat- Casti lepores, innocua festivitas,
Public Verses of his time. He has a copy of What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, Latin iambics, in the Anthologia on the The Muse herself, for her enchanting son,
60 King's Recovery, Cantab. 1632. 4to. p. 43. Whom universal Nature did lament, Of Latin elegiacs, in the Genethliacum Acad. When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, Cantabrig. Ibid. 1631. 4to. p. 39. Of Latin His goary visage down the stream was sent, iambics in Rex Redux, Ibid. 1633. 4to. p. 14. Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore? See also ETNSAIA, from Cambridge, ibid.
Alas! what boots it with incessant care 1637. 4to. Signat. C. 3.]
To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade,
Aud strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more
Were it not better done, as others use, Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never-sere,
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude :
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair? And, with forc'd fingers rude,
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year:
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
71 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
To scorn delights and live laborious days; Compels me to disturb your season due :
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer :
Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears, Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew 10
And slits the thin-spun life: “ But not the Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
praise,” He must not float upon his watery bier
Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears; Uowept, and welter to the parching wind,
“ Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Without the meed of some melodious tear.
Nor in the glistering foil Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies : That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring;
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes,
81 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string.
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse :
As he pronounces lastly on each deed, So may some gentle Muse
Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed.” With lucky words favour my destin'd urn; 30
O fountain Arethuse, and thou honour'd flood, And, as he passes, turn,
Smooth-sliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds! And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud.
That strain I heard was of a higher mood : For we were nurs'd upon the self-same hill,
But now my oat proceeds,
And listens to the herald of the sea Ped the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill.
90 Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd
That came in Neptune's plea; Under the opening eye-lids of the Morn,
He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, We drove afield, and both together heard
What hard mishap bath doom'd this gentle swain? What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn,
And question'd every gust of rugged wings Battening our focks with the fresh dews of night, That blows from off each beaked promontory : Toward Heaven's
descent had slop'd his wester- That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd ; Oft till the star, that rose, at evening bright, 30 They knew not of his story;
And sage Hippotades their answer brings, ing wheel. Mean while the rural ditties were not mute,
The air was calm, and on the level brine Temper'd to the oaten fute ;
Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd.
It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 100
That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. But, О the heavy change, now thou art gone,
Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, Now thou art gone, and never must return !
His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'er. Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe. grown,
“Ah! who hath reft“ (quoth he)" my dearest And all their echoes mour :
Last came, and last did go, (pledge?” The willows, and the hazel copses green,
The pilot of the Galilean Jake; Shall now no more be seen
Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, 110 Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.
(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,) As killing as the canker to the rose,
He shook his miter'd locks, and stern bespake: Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze,
“ How well could I have spar'd for thee young Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear,
swain, When first the white-thorn blows;
Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear.
Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorse
Of other care they little reckoning make, less deep
Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast, Closid o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas ? 51
And shove away the worthy bidden guest; For neither were ye playing on the steep,
Blind mouths ! that scarce themselves know how Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie,
to hold Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,
A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream:
That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! 121 Ay me! I fondly dream!
What recks it them? What need they? They Had ye been there for what could that have
And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: Grate on their scrapnel pipes of wretched straw; And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills, The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, And now was dropt into the western bay: 191 But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue: draw,
To morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing sed : But that two-handed engine at the door 130 ORIGINAL Various READINGS OF LYCIDAS, Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.” Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
From Milton's MS, ig bis own hand. That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Ver, 10. Who would not sing for Lycidas, he Their bells, and flowerets of a thousand hues.
well knew. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Ver. 22. To bid faire peace, &c. Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, Ver, 26. Under the glimmering eye-lids, &c. On whose fresh lap the swart-star sparely looks; Ver. 30. Oft till the even-starre bright Throw hither all your quaint enamelld eyes,
Towards Heaven's descent had sloapt That on the green turf suck the honied showers,
bis burnisht wheel. And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Ver Or frost to flowres that their gay buts Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 142
tons wear. The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
Here bear had been written, and erased, before The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, The glowing violet,
Ver, 58. What could the golden-hayr'd Calliope The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
For her inchaunting son, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
When she beheld (the gods far-sighted And every flower that sad embroidery wears:
bee) Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
His goarie scali rucole downe the ThraAnd daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150
cian lee. To strew the laureat herse where Lycid lies. Here, after inchaunting son, occurs in the For, so to interpose a little ease,
margin Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise ;
Whome universal Nature might lament, Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
And Heaven and Hel deplore, Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurld,
When bis divine head downe the streame Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
was sent. Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, The line And Heaven, &c. is erased : divine Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world ;
head is also altered to divine visage, and af: Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied,
terwards to goary visage. Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old, 160 Ver., 69. Hid in the tangles, &c. Where the great vision of the guarded mount Ver. 85. Oh fountain Arethuse, and, thou smoolk Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold;
flood, Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with ruth:
Soft-sliding Mincius. And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. Smooth is then altered to fam'd, and next to ko.
Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no nourd: And soft-sliding to smooth-sliding, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, (more, Ver. 105. Scraul'd ore with figures dim. Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; Inwrought is in the margin. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
Ver. 129. Daily devours apace, and little sed. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 169 Nothing is erased. And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Ver. 138. On whose fresh lap the swart star stinte Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:
ly looks. So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,
At first sparely, as at present. Through the dear might of him that walk'd the Ver. 139. Bring hitber, &c. waves;
Ver. 142. Bring the rathe primrose that unzel. Where, other groves and other streams along,
ded dies, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
Colorering the pale cheek of uninjoy'd love; And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
And that sad floure that strote In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
To write his own woes on the vermeil There entertain hiin all the saints above,
graine : In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
Next, adde Narcissus t'at still weeps in That sing, and, singing in their glory, move,
caine; And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
The woodbine, and the pancie freak't Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more; 180
with jet, Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore,
The glowing violet, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
The cowslip wan that hangs kis pensive To all that wander in that perilous flood.
head, Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and
And every bud that sorrow'sliterie weares; rills,
Let datfadillies fill their cupswith teares, While the still Morn went out with sandals gray;
Bid amaranthus all bis beautie shed. He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, Here also the well-attir'd woodbine appears as at present, altered from garish columbine ; and sud Oft listening how the hounds and horn embroidery, an alteration of sad escocheon, in- Cheerly rouse the slumbering Morn, stead of sorrow's liverie.
From the side of some hoar hill, Ver. 153. Let our sad thought, &c.
Through the high wood echoing shrill : Ver. 154. Ay mee, whilst thee the floods and some time walking, not unseen, sounding seas.
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Where the great Sun begins his state, Ver. 176. Listening the unexpressive nuptial Rob’d in flames, and amber light, song.
The clouds in thousand liveries dight;
And the mower whets his sithe,
And every shepherd tells bis tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale. Hence, loathed Melancholy,
Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, Whilst the landscape round it measures ; In Stygian cave forlorn,
Russet lawns, and fallows gray, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights Where the nibbling flocks do stray; unholy!
Mountains, on whose barren breast, Find out some uncouth cell,
The labouring clouds do often rest; Where brooding Darkness sads his jealous Meadows trim with daisies pide, wings,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide : And the night-raven sings;
Towers and battlements it sees There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd | Bosom'd high in tufted trees, As ragged as thy locks,
[rocks, Where perhaps some beauty lies, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
The Cynosure of neigbbouring eyes. But come, thou goddess fair and free,
Hard by, a cottage chimney smoaks, In Heaven yclep'd Euphrosyne,
From betwixt two aged oaks, And by men, heart-easing Mirth ;
Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met, Whom lovely Venus, at a birth,
Are at their savoury dinner set With two sister Graces more,
Of herbs, and other country messes, To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore:
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses; Or whether (as some sager sing)
And then in haste her lower she leaves, The frolic wind, that breathes the spring, With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; Zephyr, with Aurora playing,
Or, if the earlier season lead, As he met her once a-maying;
To the tann'd haycock in the mead. There on beds of violets blue,
Sometimes with secure delight And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
The upland hamlets will invite, Fillid her with thee a daughter fair,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks sound
Dancing in the chequer'd shade;
And young and old come forth to play Nods, and Becks, aud wreathed Smiles,
On a sun-shine holy-day, Such as bang on Hebe's cheek,
Till the live-long day-light fail : And love to live in dimple sleek ;
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
With stories told of many a feat, And Laughter holding both his sides.
How faery Mab the junkets eat ; Come, and tripit, as you go,
She was pinch’d, and pull’d, she sed; On the light fantastic toe;
And he, by friars lantern led, And in thy right hand lead with thee
Tells how the drudging goblin swet, The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty ;
To earn bis cream-bowl duly set, And, if I give thee honour due,
When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
His shadowy flail bath thresh'd the corn, To live with her, and live with thee,
That ten day-labourers could not end; In unreproved pleasures free;
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend, To hear the lark begin his flight,
And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, And singing startle the dull Night,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength; From his watch-tower in the skies,
And crop-full out of doors he Alings, Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;
Ere the first cock his matin rings. Then to come, in spite of sorrow,
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep, And at my window bid good morrow,
By whispering winds soon lulld asleep. Through the sweet-briar, or the vine,
cities please us then, Or the twisted eglantine :
And the busy hum of men, While the cock, with lively din,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold, Scatters the rear of Darkness thin.
In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, And to the stack, or the barn-door,
With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Swutly struts his dames before:
Rain influence, and judge the prize