The tragicall death of Sophinisba. Written by Dauid Murray. Scoto-Brittaine Murray, David, Sir, 1567-1629. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A07925 of text S113002 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 18296). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 98 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 36 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A07925 STC 18296 ESTC S113002 99848243 99848243 13323 2240909313

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A07925) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 13323) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 729:9) The tragicall death of Sophinisba. Written by Dauid Murray. Scoto-Brittaine Murray, David, Sir, 1567-1629. Murray, David, Sir, 1567-1629. Complaint of the shepheard Harpalus. aut [72] p. Printed [by George Eld] for Iohn Smethwick, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunstans Church-yard in Fleetstreet, vnder the Diall, At London : 1611. In verse. Printer's name from STC. Includes a reprint of his: The complaint of the shepheard Harpalus. Signatures: A⁴ B-E. "Cælia. Containing certaine sonets" has separate divisional title; register is continuous. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. eng eebo The tragicall death of Sophonisba. Written by Dauid Murray. Scoto-Brittaine. Murray, David, Sir, 1611 0 2635 3 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2004-04 Assigned for keying and markup 2004-05 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-06 Sampled and proofread 2004-06 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-07 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE Tragicall Death OF SOPHONISBA . Written by DAVID MVRRAY . SCOTO-BRITTAINE .

✚ NON ALTVM PETO . ✚ I. S. ✚ printer's or publisher's device

AT LONDON Printed for Iohn Smethwick , and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunstans Church-yard in Fleetstreet , vnder the Diall . 1611.

To the high and mighty Prince , HENRY Prince of Wales , Duke of Cornwall and Rothsay , Knight of the most noble order of the Garter . THrise Noble Prince , by birth , by blood , by fame , Renown'd by all , whom all men do adore , Not so much lou'd for greatnesse of your name , As for those vertues does your name decore : Young Haeros , whose haeroick actions sore Beyond the limits of your yet-spent yeares , Braue stately minde , wherein this time doth glore , Whose praises praysing parts , the world admires : Vnder the shadow of your Eagles wings , ( Since no where else she can for safety flie ) My humble Muse , most royall impe of Kings , In tragick verse , presents your Princely eye , With a true story of a Queenes sad case , Who gaue her life to flee a foule disgrace .
Another to the Prince . EVen as the Eagle through the empty skie , Conuoies her young ones on her soaring wings , Aboue the azur'd vaults , till shee them brings , Where they on Phoebus glorious beames may pry : So ( mighty Prince ) my Muse now soares on high , Aboue the vulgar reach , to higher spheares , With this scarse ripened Eaglet-birth of hers , Vnto the view of your Maiestick eye , But if it hap , as hap , I feare , it shall , Shee may not bide your censures dazeling touch , The higher flight , the more renowned fall , It shall suffice , that her attempt was such , But if in ought shee please your Princely view , Then shee attaines the marke , at which she flew . Your Highnesse most loyall and affectionate seruant , DA: MVRRAY .
The Argument of this Poeme .

AT what time that great and fatall enemy of Rome , Hannibal ( after that he had wonne those memorable and famous battels of Ticenum , Trebesa , Thracimen , and Cannes ) had ouer-run and subdued the most part of all Italy , putting Rome her selfe into a maruellous feare to haue beene surprised if he had then followed his fortune : Of all her great Captains and Commanders ( she then had ) Fabius Maximus was esteemed the most wise and politicke , Marcellus the most valiant , because by experience in sundry conflicts , he made the Romans know , that Hannibal was not inuincible : yet of them all none so much repined to see the Maiesty , and greatnesse of her state limited , as it were , within her owne wals , as young Publius , Corn. Scipio , the sonne of that Publ. Scipio , who first fought with Hannibal at his coming into Italy , and afterwards kild , valiantly fighting against his enemies , in Spain , with his brother Cne . Scipio . They both thus dead , & the army there destitute of a Commander , the Senat long time consulted to find out some worthy Captaine to supply that roome , but could find no man that durst vndertake so dangerous a charge , considering the losse of two so great and famous Captaines before . Til at length , the whole assembly beeing called , to chuse a Vice-consull , all the other Princes and Peeres of the Realme being silent at so worthy a motion , Scipio beeing but 24. yeares of age , accepted the charge , and immediatly thereupon departed for Spaine , which to his immortall glorie , he quickly subdued againe to the Romaine abedience ; from whence returning to Rome , he was presently chosen Consul , with the greate ioy and applause of the people : and had Cicill assigned to him for his Prouince , with power ( if he pleased ) to make war in Aphrick . So beeing stirred vp therto by the often intreaties , and great promises of Massinissa king of Numidia , a valorous and coragious young Prince , and a great friend of the Romanes , he leauied new forces , and hauing prepared ships and munition in Sicill fit for such a iourney , went thither : and after many famous baettels , at the last he ouercame Hasdrubal , and Syphax king of the Mascaecilians ; who to enioy the beautie of Sophonisba , the daughter of the sayd Hasdrubal , had but lately left the Romane friendship , to take part with the Carthaginians ; to follow whome Scipio sent Massinissa , with Caius Laelius and his light horse-men , whom they pursued to his owne country , and there in a new conflict tooke him prisoner . Thereafter Massinissa went to Cyrtha the chiefe citty of his Realme , which he took , and there at the first view became enamoured with the matchlesse and incomparable beauty of Sophonisba , whom not only he promised to free from Romane bondage , but also tooke her to his wife : which Scipio vnderstanding , sharply rebukes him for his fault , telling him that no Romane confederate was able to giue libertie to a prisoner taken by the Romane armes , who heauily regrating his offence , to so courteous and continent a Captaine , and lamenting , hee could not obserue his promise to Sophonisba , sends her a cup of poyson , with a letter , shewing her , hee could not else obserue his faith giuen to her but by that potion , which she immediatly drinks , to preuent all further misery , and giues me the Argument of this Poeme .

To my louing Cousin Da: Murray . FAire Sophonisba on her tragike stage , ( To death , or bondage worse then death design'd ) Doth shew the grea●nesse of a proud grieu'd minde , Th' ambitious thoughts of Scipio to asswage : With courage farre aboue her sex and age , She quafs the cup her loue-sick Lord propin'd , By which although her liues-thred was vntwyn'd , Yet she triumphs aboue the Roman rage : Thrice happy Queene , and more then happy thrice , Who finds a rare Physition with such skil , To rob the Fates of thee there lawfull prize , By vertue of his euer-liuing quil , And makes that poyson which bereft thy breath , By power of his pen , to poyson death . Your louing Cousin . IOHN MVRRAY .
To my kinde friend Da Murray . IN new attire ( and put most neatly on ) Thou Murray mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare , As when she sat on the Numidian throne , Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were . So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires , That from the ruins of her wasted vrne , Into a body of delicious ayres : Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne , That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore , Bred those that coldly but expres'd her merit , But breathing now vpon our colder shore , Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit , Both there , and here , so fortunate for Fame , That what she was , she 's euery where the same . M. DRAYTON
To my deere friend DA: Murray . FAme ( slaue to Time ) still flying here and there , Tels what sad wonders in this world hath beene , Wrought with the tragike pencil of dispaire , Which doth nought else but horri'd woes containe , Braue Sophonisba , faire , and stately Queene Whom Murrays wits , for vertue , now adores , None but this age her ( matchlesse ) like hath seene And none so high , her well deseruing sores : For what shee lost , his Muse againe restores , Her life adornes his euer-liuing lines His pen , her praise , each other still decores , So in here worth , his verse , most brightly shines : Faire Queene whose death did end the Romans strife , Hath made his Muse giue her a brauer life . SIMON GRAHAME .
The Tragicall Death of Sophonisba . SAD Massinissa , swoolne with griefe and rage , When all his credit seru'd not to intreat His braue victorious friend , to dis-ingage His late-spous'd Lady from a seruile state : Halfe mad , distraught , confus'dly doth hee write , To show , the Romaine Conqueror thinks to send Her as a slaue his triumph to attend . But lo ( quoth he ) t' auoyd this vnkind doome , And that my oath vn-uiolate remaine , Made once to thee , thou neuer shouldst see Rome : That her proud Dames might glory in thy paine , And point their fingers at thee in disdaine : I send thee here a potion with my letters , To saue my faith from foyle , and thee from fetters . Yet if my vnfain'd tears can haue the force , ( Deare Idoll of my soule ) with thee so much , I pray thee onely haue this small remorse Of thine owne life , this cup thou neuer touch , Till that thou see thy haples fortune such As nothing else can serue : I say ( though loth ) Drinke this to saue thine honor , and my oth . In this meane time il ' labour with thy foe , In whose assistance I haue spent my bloud , To pitty thy estate , and ease my woe , In the releasing of thy seruitude ; Which if his gentle Nature shall thinke good , Straight you shall know , if hee refu●e , too soone , These lines , aye me ! haue said what should be done . Thus hauing written , with a sighing spirit , Hee foulds those blacke newes in a snow-white sheet , Vtt'ring these speeches , to the scroll ; her merit Deseru'd a better present then this writ : Yet shall she see so sare a thing in it , From seruitude and shame shall saue her now , And likewise me from a polluted vow . Then quickly cals he vnto him a post , Whose secrecy he oftimes vs'd to proue , Whom straight-waies he commands to leaue the hoste , And beare these gifts of death vnto his loue ; Who doth no sooner from his sight remoue , But straight his conscience summons out his fact , T' appeare before him in a shape most blacke . Behold the resolutions of man , How vnaduisdly , sometimes , they proceed Breeding repentance oftimes , when they can Not bring a backe that which they once decreed ; Th' al-ruling heauens being the cause indeed , Which scorhing humane wisdome lets vs-know , The imperfections of our thoughts below . For loe this Prince who lately thought his faith , And his sweet Ladies liberty to stand , In the post-speedy acting of her death , Which made him this sad message to command , Which being past he rewes it out of hand . But can not now remend it which is worse , " Too late repentance euer breeds remorse . The messenger whom time and vse had learn'd , Obsequious duty to his maisters will , Hasts to his iourney , hauing not discern'd , The soddaine passion that his soule did kill : Each cannot gaze a Princes breast in till . Whose outward-iestures seldome doe bewray , Those inward griefes , whereon there thoughts doe prey So ist with him who on his journey goes , Thinking on nothing but a quick returne , Leauing his maister so or-come with woes , That downe he lies vpon his bed to mourne : Whose scalding sighes which inwardly doe burne , The perly conduites of his teares vp dries . As Phoebus , drinks the May dew from the skies . It was the time by this the post departed , That golden Phoebus hides his glorious beames , Low in the Westerne Ocean , when vncarted : His neighing steeds leauing their wearied teames . Whose mouthes through trauell yet the froth out fumes . Goes to their nightly manger , and their guide , In Thetis lap his hoary head did hide . His sorrow-silent-stricken-toung , cannot Keepe back the passage of his sighes , no more Which so assailes it , that it leaues his throate , Returning thither whence it fled before , While comming to his breath 's faire Iuory doore , It begs a pasport from his lips of new , To those greefe-boyling sighes which so pursue . But they like volleys , willing to be wrocken , On it poore toung , that staid their course so long , Disorderly do march , their rankes being broken All would be first for to reueng their wrong , Euen as wee see a mad vnruly throng , Of countrey Clownes , to sack some bordering towne , Run swarming from the hills and mountaines downe . Or as a Christall current , that is staid , To pay his debtfull tribute to the sea , His channell stopt , whereby his course delayd , He 's forst a back vnto his sourse to flye , Till that his streames increas'd , he growes so high , That ouer bankes and braies he runs a maine , Impetuously vnto the sea againe . So his vnruly sighes all head-long follow , Each striuing first who shall preuent an other : But his throats entry being straight and hollow , And they in number numberlesse come thither , Cannot affoord them passage altogether . While striuing for the place each in disdaine , Sends one another smothered back againe . His eyes which all this time inclosed lye , Gazing vpon the motions of the thought : How soone those ciuill broyles they do espye , That sorrow had to his mindes kingdome brought , No longer in their Couerletts they mought Behould the tragick view of their friends dying , But straight retires them to their former being . His toung and eyes now com'd to their owne place , It enters to complaine , and they to weepe , For since the ardor of his sighes did cease , The humid vapours which his heart did keepe , Vnboyld by them , to his eyes cesterns creepe . From thence vpon his tender cheekes downe hopps , Hanging like Perles vpon his soft-downe cropps . And after long spent teares , his toung at length In pittious sort those wofull words did breath , Wretch'd Massinissa , had thou not the strength , To saue one poore distressed Dame from death , Brought vnder by vnconstant fortunes wrath ? Who onely vnder safety of thy shield , Poore Lady , life and liberty did yeeld . And that on such a couenant alasse , Shee thee ingag'd these Iewels of her minde , That thou should still preserue her from disgrace , Which thou to doe , thy selfe by oath didst binde , O cruell , cruell , thousand times vnkinde , That could not else obserue thy passed faith , But by thy haplesse louers wofull death . Ah! who had seene her , when thou didst behold her , Heauing her faire and snow-white hands to thee . Crauing thy pitty , as thy selfe then told her , ( Though in th' extreamest state of misery ) Became much rather her sweete selfe to bee A pitty giuer , then to beg the same , That so with lookes the conqueror ouer-came . Throwne downe by fortune , plung'd in deepe distresse , Cros'd with affliction , ouer-come with sorrow : Touch'd with each passion , could a minde oppresse ; Captiu'd or night , that was a Queene at morrow , Yet her sweet looks , though sad sweet looks did borrow , Both pitty , and compassion , to her griefe , Deferring present euill , t' a worse mischiefe . Vindictiue thoughts , calamity and care , Foes vnto beauty , maiesty , and grace , Made her not seeme lesse beautifull , lesse faire , For though that sorrow seem'd to maske her face , Yet her faire eyes , as if they scorn'd disgrace , Whiles floods of liquid pearls down from them powres , Did glance like Phoebus rayes in Aprill showres . Ay me ! vnhappy , thus to minde her rarieties , To which all hearts and eyes did owe their beauty , Whiles all her vertues ( as contesting parties ; ) Doe now vpbraid me with the breach of duty , For had she not beene of such birth and beauty ; And alwayes matchlesse-excellent , God knowes , Her mischiefes had beene lesse , and lesse my woes . For , oh ! this grieues me more then death ten-fold , To thinke that one of such desert must dye , And that I have not power to controul 't , Yea that I must the author thereof be , Oh wondrous ! wondrous contrariety ! Oh wofull chance ! griefe past compare to giue Death to that life , by which I onely liue . Oh this it is torments my martyr'd minde , That my vnhappy destiny is such , To prooue most cruell , where I would most kinde : Is this th' effect ? ô gods ! of louing much , If it be so , let neuer loue more touch The plagued heart of such a wofull wretch , Curst be that loue that cruelty doth hatch . Sweete Sophonisba , when thou shalt receiue , That hatefull potion , which I now haue sent thee ; It will not grieue thee halfe so much to leaue ( I know the heauens so great a spirit haue lent thee ) Thy lingring life , as that it will repent thee . Thou was not kild in that vnhappy day , When in proud Cyrtha thou became my prey . For had thou then by rage of victors wrath , Beene cruelly kild by force of Sword or Dart , More happy thrice had beene thy haplesse death , And gladlier might thy Ghost to Styx depart , Nor left to dye by one to whom thy heart Thou gaue in pledge of liberty and life , Who sau'd a captiue Queene to kill a wife . But now to die when life was most assur'd By oath and promise seal'd with wedlockes knot , An heauy burdning n'ere to be indur'd , Detested fact which cannot be forgott , Haynous offence which neuer Time shall blot : But that it shall by all-relating fame , Fly through the world to my eternall shame . Why did I not fore-warne thee at thy taking , Freely to death or bondage to giue place ? But then ( alas ) was no such bargaine making , For the nere-like-seene beauty of thy face , Bewitcht me then with such inchanting grace , That in despite of all the Romane swords , I vow'd thy safety and defence by words . Which oh ! hath prou'd a weake and strengthlesse vow Afoording nothing vnto thee but death : For had thou daign'd thy haughty heart to bow To th' meanest souldier that our Legions hath , He rather would have sacrifiz'd his breath , Or that he would haue suffered thee to bee Vs'd by constraint , much lesse haue seene thee die . But I much more then common souldiers be : A Captaine , a Commander , and a King , Whom Fortune in her grace aduanc'd so high , That mighty Princes I to bands did bring , Cannot ( alas ) O to be wondred thing ! Thee poore distressed Dame from bondage shield , Who to none liuing but my selfe would yeeld . Thou neither life , nor kingdome didst implore , Nor yet thy husband Syphax his releefe , Nor that they would thy royalty restore , Nor that thy followers might auoide mischiefe , No , haplesse Queene , this was thy onely griefe , And wofull sute , that to no Romaine borne , Thou might be giu'n to liue in seruile scorne . Innated hatred , bred in either blood , Of Carthaginian and of Romaine race , Farre worse then death , feare of their seruitude , Made thee alas , to thinke it lesse disgrace , To haue beene sacrificed in that place , By some — bloud guilty hand , nor liu'd a Queene , In chaines of gold , in Romes faire Citty seene . Which made thee to relye thy hopes on me , Whom neighbourhood and nature did combine , Com'd of Italian bloud by no degree , But of that ancient great Numidiau line , Which euer at Romes greatnesse did repine : And most of all , this one thing mou'd thy minde . That I was theirs by chance , and not by kinde , And on my part much more did challenge loue , Then countrey , blood , or birth , or high degree , Maiesticke courage , beauty , grace , did mooue , And plead compassion in the cruellest eye , Hard Tygrist harted , and remorselesse hee , Hearing thy sighes and plaints , veiwing thy teares , Would not have freed the scorning world of feares . Is death a ioynter equall to thy dower ? Should such a beauty be bereft of breath ? But feeble Massinissa see thy power , Behold the fruites are frustrate of thy faith , Who couldst not saue a Lady faire from death , To whom ( alas ) were left no other meanes , But she must die a Queene , or liue in chaines . O Liberty ! too dearely , dearely bought At such a rate , so ransom'd and obtain'd , And who procures you so , may well be thought Of his owne life too prodigall a friend : O cruell freedome ! that must be maintain'd By blouds expence , and by no other way , As this vnhappy wretched Queene may say . Yet wronged Lady , thou art not to blame , Now to exchange thy life for liberty : I must sustaine the blot thereof with shame , As th' onely author of thy miserie ; Happy , ( though haples I ) thou ay shalt be , For thy braue mind into renowne be had , Though still detested I who thee betrayd . What shall the world and comming ages speake , When they shall read the story of thy fall ? Shall they not sweare that I might iustly breake To flinty Scipio , and the Romaines all ? A traytor to my heart they shall me call : To thee but mercy : cruell , and vnkind , And iustly all to me may be assign'd . Both to my Deare vngratefull , and to Nature I shall be thought ( alas ) for euer still , That furnisht death , vnto so rare a creature , Whom euen Deaths selfe did pitty ( oh ) to kill : O to be thought-of-memorable ill ! Which by no tract of time shall be forgotten , But shall grow euer greene , when it seemes rotten . What rests there then ( detested wretch ) to thee ? But that thou find out some repairelesse place To waile thy woes : but whither shalt thou flie To saue thee from the sting of thy disgrace ? For no where great Apollo showes his face , To Indus , Tagus , Tay , nor Nilus streame , But all shall know vile Massinissa's shame . Mourne foorth thy shame with neuer-stanching teares , Sigh for thy error till thy heart be broken , Acquaint thy wrong to Tygers , Wolfes , and Beares , Whose quenchles thirst of blood , thy blood may slocken , That so thy fault may be seuerely wrocken : And for thy beastly cruelty , that they To stanch their hunger , on thy corps may prey . But if more pitty in their sauage hearts , There be nor was in thy remorslesse mind , Thinke that the same nought els to thee imparts , But as thou nature , so they 'l passe their kind , Which being to rapine and to bloud inclin'd , Yet least it were a benefite to thee , From tortring thoughts deny thy soule to free . And sometimes while the Turtle moanes her make , With many a heauie , shrill , and piteous crie , Leaning her soft brest to a withered stake , Still crauing death , ( poore bird ) but cannot die : No other beast neere-hand , nor no fowle nye , Who hauing lost her loue , doth hate repaire , Be thou her Eccho to resound her care . Sing thou the treble to her mournfull songs , Reply her sad notes with thy dying grones , While she bewailes her griefes , bewaile thy wrongs , And as she sits on prickes , sit thou on stones : This sympathie shall best become your moanes ; This harmony of neuer-dying playnts , Best fits the humors of such male-contents . This Purgatorie-penance to endure , With patience thy selfe till death content , Into those desarts where thou must immure Thy errors euerlasting penitent , Ne're finding one with whom thou maist frequent ; Vnlesse thou hap vpon some homely cell , Where Pilgrims haunt and hoary Hermits dwel . Liue then this death , or rather dye this life , Let it be death to liue , and life to die : Let thy owne soule be with thy soule at strife : Let thy owne heart , thy hearts own bourreau be , Let all the euils on death triumph in thee , Let still thy selfe be of these euils the worst , In actions all , in life , in death accurst . Thus al the night he did his plaints renew , Mourning his sweet loues wolfull miserie : And now the Morning lent a loath'd adew , Till amorous Titan in a scarlet die , And the swift-winged Consort mounting high , Tun dout their sweetest warbles in the skies , Till Phoebus wakened with their restlesse cries . Who peece and peece his golden head vp-heaues , Aboue th' vnconstant watry liquid Maino , There weeping Memnons losse , Aurora leaues , Whose teares for pittie he quaffes vp againe , Which all the night bedewed had each plaine : The tender grasse seem'd by their withered crops , To waile the wanting of these holesome drops . And now the Light ( expelling darknesse ) shin'd Through Sophonisba's chamber where she lay , Who all this night was most extreamly pin'd , With vgly visions did her mind astray , That she can nought discerne : if it be day , She thinkes she dreames that which she waking sees , Scarse if she will giue credit to her eyes . But whether that accustomated time , Or then the loathing of a restlesse rest , Or of imagination of some crime , The waking Sent'nell of each carefull brest : Or then the nature of a mind opprest : Made her to know's , or if that all in one , But now she finds the night away is gone . Then enters she for to bethinke what end , The Oracles imported she had dream'd , To which her fancies Commentar's do lend , Direct contrare to that they had proclaim'd , To apprehend the worst she is asham'd : Loue makes her iudge of things in such degree , Not as they were , but as she wisht to be . But now t' auoyd those ominous conceits Sleepe did afford , she quickly vp arose , Leauing the snow-white , soft , and lawny sheets , Impouerish'd thereby t' enrich her cloes , Which to presage her worser-comming woes , That day by fortune were of colour blacke : And thus vnwares deaths liuery she doth take . In which her heart-bereauing beauty shin'd , Like faire Diana in the fable night , Or like a polisht Diamond of Ind , Set in blacke Iet , to giue a glance more bright , Or like the great bright Patterne of the light , When that his glorious glistering beames do chase Some ouer-shadowing cloudes that maske his face . Her conquering eyes were in ambuscad layd Of golden glittering heire , where twinkling they Send foorth such dazeling glances from that shade , As Phoebus brighter neuer did display : There wanton Cupid sporting himselfe lay . In those pure streames , which from those eyes distil'd , From whence vn-wares the haughtiest beares he kil'd , Her smooth cheekes whiter then the whitest lawne , Or winter snowes which couer Atlas face , Where Nature artificially had drawne , Her fairer nose , that fairer part to grace : On whose each side a little distant space , Vermillion Roses , and sweet Lillies grew Which checker'd that faire field● with crimson hew . Her teeth like rankes of orientall pearle , With corrall died lips were compas'd round , From whence farre sweeter then the well tun'd merle : Her heart-bereauing tongue did softly found : Words of such force the flintiest heart to wound . Her baulmy breath , in worth , in taste , in smell , Did ciuet , muske , and amber-greaze excell . Her dimpled chinne ( loues cabinet ) where he , To gaze on hidden beauty oft repar'd , Their sat the wanton , and with lusting eyes , Now on her breast , now on her belly star'd : Whose amorous soule with such hid joyes insnar'd . Betwixt her milky globes skipt oft from thence , A littler lower to delight his sence . Her marble necke did vnder-prop those graces , Which from her line straight-body stately sprung , Her foulding armes into there seuerall places , Close by her tender dainty sides downe hung : From whence her snow white hands , smooth , sleeke and long In Iuory colums , did themselues forth spread , Whose smallest touch the heaviest heart could glad . Her breast the cabbin of her Princely minde , Whereon two alablaster globes were fixt , Whose wounding aspect the beholders pin'de : Being heere and there with azur'd veines commixt , To tell her other rar'ties were prolixt . Imagine all her clothes of cristall glasse , Where eyes cannot , let apprehension passe . But liuely to expresse her right idea , And in a word her matchlesse parts to tell , Such was sweet Sidneis faire , faire Philoclea , When her braue riuals at contention fel By Ladons streames , yet ours did her excel . In that his braine but dream'd of such as she , Ours was that which , his braine dream'd her to bee . Thus deckt ( sweet Lady ) both by Art and Nature , Viewd , woundred at , admired by each eie , She leaues her chamber like some heauenly creature , Adorn'd with all the pompe of Maiesty , But ah ! who can auoide the Fates decree ? What power can flie death , when he list to strike , In court and cottage priuiledg'd a like ? Nor doth this breath-bereauing monster keepe , A certaine diet , or appointed date , For sometime they who most securely sleepe , Who doe on nothing lesse then death conceit , There life then hangs into most dangerous state : For why vnwares he oftimes comes to many , But being calld for , seldome comes to any . And when he comes , request , nor yet intreat , With this remorselesse catife nought availes , For when he finds aproach the fatall date : The execution neuer in him failes , So many kinde of waies this theefe assailes , That where so e're we goe , we walke , or fare , Head-longs we run the post into his snare . Ten thousand diuers meanes he has , whereby He do's destroy this little world of man , Sometime by naturall sicknesse makes him lie , Till Atrop's cut the thred her sister span : Sometime by sword , by pestilence , or than By cruell famine , which of all is worst , Poore silly man to quit his breath is forst . He sometime stirs vp brother against brother To cruell iarres , like earth-borne Cadmus brood , And which is more vnnaturall , makes the mother T' inwombe againe her child for want of food , And sometime makes within the raging flood , The monstrous great Balena to intombe , Poore wretched man within his hollow wombe . And in this last age mongst so many hunders , Of diuers kindes of instruments he hath , The deuill ha's moulded one engine that thunders Destruction , ruine , horror , terrour , death ; This mercy-wanting frame , this birth of wrath , Not onely brai's to ashes , flesh and bones , But ruins mountaines , hils and towers of stones . Yet notwithstanding all those diuerse waies , He hath reserued secret meanes , where by , To kill whom neither sword nor famine slaies , Nor naturall death , nor pestilence makes die : Nor that is swallowed by the raging sea . With powerfull poison secret and unseene , He can dispatch , as he did serue this Queene . For now the post , who , as you heard , was gone , From Masinissa so his iourney hied That by the swift pac'd horses of the Sunne , Were in their places to his Charriot tied . He Sophonisbae's palace had espied . And euen as from her chamber shee did goe , He doth his letters and his credit shew . But he no sooner doth approach her sight , When lo her alwaies harme-misdeeming minde , Takes apprehension all things went not right : Whether t' were that her Genius so deuin'd , Or that her thoughts suspiciously enclin'd , Marking the letters date and his great speed , Coniectures some sad matter to succeed . Yet doth she all that lies in her to couer , This suddaine feare that so appales her heart , And to that end ask's for his Lord her louer : In what good health he was , and in what part : And with that word her stagring tongue did thwart . For the remembrance in what part he was , Inforc'd her minde to sadder thoughts giue place . Then with a houering silence still she stands And gazes on the ground with staring eyes , The simple swain to such abrupt demaunds , Ere he could answere long amazed staies ; At last with bashfull tongue he thus replies , Your royall husband , Madam , and my Lord , Rests in good health as I can well record . Of which ( sayd hee ) I hope his princely letter . Can better far then I informe your grace , I thanke thee friend ( sayd shee ) but sighes did let he ▪ To say the rest , such was her carefull case : Transported for a while , she held her peace . Words killing sighes , sighes killing words againe , So that betwixt them her discours in slaine . This airy combat , this debate of breath , This speech restrayning , strife , this sighing warre Did euen bewray what she to shew was saith : And makes the carrier to discerne her care , Who sad to see a beauty matchlesse faire , In such a plight ( poore swaine ) he smiling told her , How much his loving Lord long'd to behold her . By speech and iesture shee remarkes him then , Vndoubted badges of a troubled minde , And neither token , nor appeerance can Of any harme by his behauiour find ; So that her feares they vanish with the winde . And her disturbed thoughts of new takes hold , Of better hopes which makes her somewhat bold . She takes the letter and with smyling cheere , She opens and vnfoulds the seales with speed , At the first view whereof it did appeere , The crimson beauty of her cheekes did fade Which straight returnes into a brighter red , In scarlet collour dying all her face , Which to pale whitenesse soone againe giues place . But howsoe'r her bloud thus went and came . Vn-interrupted she reads out the letter , And hauing read it still reads o're the same : The more she reads it seemes she likes it better , The standers-by thought it some louely matter , Which in the reading bred her so great pleasure , Leaves her alone to read it at more leasure , Thus left , and left in such a taking to , She takes the poyson and remarkes it well , Which she could not so vnamaz'dly doe , But that her heart a sodaine change did feele . Her dazled eyes began for feare to reell , And if that honour had not come to aide her , Fraile flesh and life to view it more had stai'd her . Then enters straight a combat in her soule , Betwixt her honour and her fearefull life , Life wishes her to shun a death so foule : Honour by death praies her to end all strife : Life yet intreats for respit to her life , And honour still protests that in no case , But by her death she can avoide disgrace . And addes this more , that if she ment to liue , She needs would leaue her , and with her also , Her chastity which heauily did greeue , To be a prey to an insulting foe : And praies her to accept of either two , A glorious death with honour and with fame , Or still to liue with foule reproach and shame . But life againe those reasons t' overthrow , A thousand sweet alluring baites doth lay Before her eyes , thereby to make her know , T' was inhumane her selfe to kill and slay : Sayd she let skil-contending Doctors play . Such tragicke fits that doe maintaine like fooles , This honour in their Academicke schooles . And whereas honour now would threaten thee , That if thou liue , thou must quite claime , for aye Thy wonted fame and spotlesse chastity , Who shall accuse thee for the same I pray ? Thy husbands lost , captiu'd , gone , and away , For that no ransome euer can redeeme him , So that for dead I doubtlesse doe esteeme him . Dead must to dead , the liuing to the liuing , The graue cannot be capable of loue , It ill beseemes thy youth to be thus greeuing : Must thou a mourner restlesse euer proue ? Thy beauty was not fram'd to such behoue , That thy sweete yeeres should still consumed be , A votresse vnto loues-foe , chastity . Let vestalls , who all other Nuns excells , Closely immur'd from mens society , While as they chat in their religious cells , Maintaine this idle theame of chastitie , Let this their Euen-song , and their Matins be , A text more fitting that retired sort , Then for the tender beauties of the Court. Beauty ( God knowes ) was not ordain'd to mone , Nor to live chastely at her first creation : For skilfull Nature , who hath made the Sunne To giue vs light , made her for procreation , Not Image-like for ostentation , But as choise fruites are made-of for choise seedes , And stately Stallions to breed stately steeds . As th' Apple to the taste , the Rose to smell , The pleasant Lilly to delight the eye , Gould for the touch , sweete Musick greefe to expell , So rarest beauty was ordained to be , The mindes desired full saciety , The ●reasure of the soule , the hearts delight , Loues full contentment both by day and night . Stray but along the pleasant fields and see , If that each creature loues not in some measure , The wanton birds sit billing on each tree , To see the faire Pawne wooe , it were a pleasure , Beauty alone is not the Princes treasure , Marke well each flock , by mountaine or by plaine , Is follow'd by some louing Nimph or Swaine . There feeds the Heifer , and the gentle Ewe , Courting the proud Bull , and the sawey Ramme , There does the courser his hotte loue pursue , With his braue breeder in a mutuall flame : The timorous Hare , and Conie doth the same , So doth the princely Stagge , the milke white Hinde , All loue according to their course of kinde . And if it be not that sole bird of wonder , Th' Arabian Phoenix , nothing breath 's but loues , Which vestall like , doth spend of yeares fiue hunder , And neuer loues sweete operation prooues ; The thought thereof , so much her chaste minde mooues , That as agreeu'd to liue so long alone , At length she burnes for sorrow in the sunne . How then vnkindly honor with thee deales , Who so vntimely would thy life bereaue ? As if that nothing now saue death auailes , Nor that thou could not liue vnlesse a slaue , How fondly loe , she seekes thee to deceaue , There 's no such danger , if thou wilt beleeue , From hence therfore , let no such thoughts thee grieue . The meekest conquerors to a yeelding foe , That euer yet aspir'd to greatnesse hight , Are the braue Romans , who as wisely know , To vse their mercy as they doe their might ; Let not dispaire so much thy soule affright , For why thy fates more good to thee designe , If thou do not against thy fates repine . Conceit that thou must brauely liue in blisse , Thinke that thy minde and fortune shall agree , Who knowes but that thy noble friend ere this , Has mollified proud Scipios hard decree ? ' T' is time enough sweete Queene for thee to dye , When thou art not thy selfe , euen then alasse , When thy true glasse shall shew thy wrinckled face . Thy dainty corps fits better to receiue The sweet imbracements of a louing friend Then to be made a morsell for the graue , From whence againe it cannot be redeem'd : Oh! that from thence it might be still exeem'd , Thy beauty is too delicate a prey , By lothsome wormes to be consum'd away . Thus fearefull life did for her selfe protest , Still seeking intertainment by delayes ; Till Honor mad to see her so possest , With such inchanting , false , and Syren sayes , Her conquering colours boldly forth displayes , Into the face of life , and in this sort , Her arguments and errors doth re●ort , And what O life ! and must thou too conspire With her disgrace t'out-liue a glorious name ? Fye dastard , banish such a fond desire , And blush thou didst conceit the same for shame , I put the case thou passe the date of fame , And that thou scape th' insulting victors wrath , Yet what assurance hast thou of thy breath ? Which like a dreame , a smoake , a vapor flyes , Without assured or prefixed date , How many well at morne or euening dies ? " Such is the frailty of our humaine state , " Most certainly vncertaine of our fate . Yet this we know for certaine , wee must dye . When , where , or how God knowes , vncertaine wee . Then peeuish hagge , how dares thou thus presume , With thy be-lying reasons to perswade , This fortune-wronged Lady to see Rome , As if no danger thereby might be had ? Shall it of Sophonisba ( ah ) be said , That she t'shunne a transitory paine , Made choice to liue vnto her honours staine . No , no , it were an vnaduised choise , Great Queene , for thee to liue with such disgrace , What more dishonour couldst thou do to those , I meane to Syphax , Carthage , and thy race , Then that thou shouldst now fearfully giue place To lifes allurements , which doth seeke with shame , To kill thee by the killing of thy same ? Would not great Syphax blush to heare it told , His soules chiefe minion , darling of his heart , T' inioy whose loue , hee was so fondly bold , From the great Romans friendship to depart , Which makes him liue captiu'd in endlesse smart , Should now t' his eternal● griefe be made , A lustfull prey vnto a lawlesse bed ? And would not Romes Corriuall to be sorrie , Great Carthage that her Sophonisba should Be made a trophae to the Romane glorie , Whose matchlesse beautie oft-times purchase could Mo friends to her then all her wealth or gold , It doubtlesse would breed in that famous cittie More hate to her then either loue or pitty . What would thy parents , friends , and kindred say , If thou shouldst yeeld a captiue now to be ? But all bewaile the curst vnhappy day Of thy conception and natiuitie : Then drinke this potion , that thou maist set free Thy matchles-noble mind from beeing thrall , So shalt thou be most famous in thy fall . Looke how we see on glassie Neptunes face , Two warlike ships a furious fight begin , Now flies the one , the other now takes chase , Now by the loofe , now by the lee they rin , The liquid Mayne with their sharpe beakes they twin : At length they grapple , and then boords in hast , And who first enters backe againe is chac't . No otherwise within her care-fraught breast , This powerfull combat twixt her life and honor , Is still maintain'd by turnes , whiles th' one is chac't , Whiles th' other flies , whiles both do set vpon her , Yet neither of them to their side can win her : But now to honor , now to life giues place , And dares not either freely to embrace . Now in the midst of this intestine warre , Vncertaine thus to either side to yeeld , Her passions still augment , more growes her care ; Her woes the greater that they are conceal'd : " Sorrow is lightest when it is reveal'd : " A heauy burthen to a troubled hart , " Is much to feele , and little to impart . Yet in this sad and silent agonie , While life and honor furiously contend , Enters braue Courage with audacitie , And giues this inward strife a fatall end , And Honors high attempt doth so commend , That in despite of what her life could say , Makes her resolu'd to die without delay . At last she gently enters to vnfold Her currall lips , from whence her balmy breath , Euen loath to leaue that paradized hold , Where it so long time sweetly soiourn'd hath , Flies houering bout her lips afraid of death , Till gentle Zephir's gales finding it there , Doth softly blow it to perfume the ayre . Looke how in cleare Meanders winding brinkes , The snow-white Swan her exequies doth sing In sweetest notes , till that for paine she shrinkes , And doth her musicke with her breath resigne : Euen so doth she , O to be wondred thing ! Vnto the poyson such sweet speeches breath , As she had courted Cupid and not Death . Thrice-happy welcome guift ( sayd she to me ) And much more welcome had thou bin ( God knowes ) If husbands hands had not affoorded thee , For Deaths more grieuous friends do giue then foes , Yet art thou not to blame , thou knewst my choice Was euer to preferre a glorious death Before an ignominious seruile breath . I thanke you hartly for your kind regard , And for the due aduertisement you giue Of Scipio's plots , against poore me prepar'd , Who for his owne sake suffers me to liue , The period of Ambition to atchiue , To lead in triumph such a mighty Queene , Who neuer shall at Rome aliue be seene . Nor shall that proude ore-all-empiring citty , Or her more proud inhabitants , whose rage My father , friends , and kindred all but pitty , Kild and vndid their furie to asswage , Behold me captiue clos'd up in a cage , Or lead in triumph to their Capitoll , I rather chuse a thousand deaths to tholl . Where her faire glorious Dames enricht by spoyle Of an vnlawfull conquest , daily weares Those robes and iewels which with great turmoyle , Others haue conquerd to their haplesse heires : Who ouercome with this great power of theirs , Giue all they haue to ransome their poore liues , Which they send home to beautifie their wiues . Shall they into their windowes richly deckt , To gaze vpon my miseries remaine ? Or shall they with their longing lookes expect My wish'd approch , their eyes to entertaine With the sad obiect of my glories waine ? But ere their sights be satisfied so , I rather chuse quicke to my graue to go . No , none ore me shall so insult or vaunt , Whome slaue nor captiue they shall neuer see , Though conquerd and ore come my selfe I graunt , In all things else , yet of my liberty None other liuing shall commander be ; Which I esteeme and prize at higher rate , Then whatsoever riches , wealth , or state . Shall I who in the highest chiefe degree Of Fortunes fauour lately shin'd in grace , Abase my selfe so low a slaue to be , To those who ruin'd me and all my race ? No , no such thought nor motion shall haue place , Though all the euils on earth should me oppresse , I liu'd a Queene , and I must die no lesse . Let Rome triumph to heare of my distresse , But neuer glorie to behold my wo : Scipio my wracke in words may well expresse , But me a captiue shall he neuer show : Go who so list , I neuer meane to go One foote , to grace his victories , I vow , With his designes beeing so acquainted now . Haue not mine eyes as yet beheld alasse , To many wofull obiects , but of force They must behold and view their owne disgrace , To grace the breeders triumph which is worse : Is there no other pitty nor remorse ? My crown 's bereft , what rests there more to doe , Must they bereaue me of my honour to ? The gods and nature to the world did giue mee , Most free by birth , and so I 'ue liu'd as yet , And of my birth-right would they now bereaue me To curbe me with captiuities hard bit ? I minde not so from Natures gift to flit . My freedomes lease till death doth not expire , Which I to forfit neuer shall desire . Thrice happy yee that spent your blessed breaths In the defence of country liberty , Who by your glorious and renouned deaths , Express'd your mindes great magnanimity : And left sad tokens to the enemy Of your great valour and couragious spirits While each his death , with his foes death acquits . As most kinde children to your natiue soile , In her defence yee spent your deerest bloud , Your eyes ne'r vewing the regratefull spoile Heauens hauing your attempts and force withstood Which the proude fortune-follow'd multitude , Of your fierce foes tooke on your haplesse ayres , Being plagued both in this your losse , and theirs . Of which none iustlier may lament then I , The wofull type of fortunes fickle grace , Who with those haplesse eyes ( alasse ) did spie : My noble father slaine before my face : And by his side the most part of our race . My husband conquer'd and captiu'd also , In whose each griefe I felt a seueral woe . But fortune neuer wearied of change , Vnconstant goddesse which affects nought more , As if alone on mee she ment reuenge , While death and horror stood my eyes before , Did then present me with a shew of glote , As if repenting of her former wrong , And yet meant greater iniuries ere long . Who would have thought amidst a world of woes , While nothing but destruction did appeere , All being in power of the insulting foes , Life , liberty , or what I held most deere : Teares in my eyes , my heart possest with feare , Looking for nothing but a shamefull death , That fortune then had mitigate her wrath ? Oh! had I died when death was so expected , It had not seem'd so grieuous far ( alasse ) For while I stood at vnder and deiected , Bearing the burden of a sad disgrace , I would haue thought he pittied had my case Who had me kil'd in such a wofull plight , For death , in sorrow and despaire , seemes light . But fortune false , her fury to fulfill , Reseru'd me then to a more wretched end , As to make him the author of my ill , Who from all euils did euer me defend , But pardon me deere friend if I offend , In counting thee a partner of my wrack , Since death seemes grieuous which from thee I take . Scarse haue I dream'd yet of that matchlesse pitty , Which vndeseru'd you did extend to me , When in the ruines of this sacked cittie , Thou did preserve my wished liberty , And which is more , vouchsafst me then to be , Thy blist and happy , now curst haplesse bride , Since this sad potion must our loues deuide . How can I but regrate , complaine and moane , When scarcely yet I haue begun to taste Those speachlesse pleasures that attend vpon The sweete fruition of a Nuptiall feast , Where sacred Hymen should be chiefest guest , Sweete Madrigalls , and blessed hymnes be sung , And no sad toales of buriall-bells be rung . Oh let them iudge , who with delight and ioy , Haue felt the pleasures of sweet wedlocks bed , What griefe , what care , what sorrow , what annoy , It 's to forsake the same ere it be had ! Thus onely this , and nothing else that s said , Makes me to hate this wofull gift of thine , Which otherwise seemes a most blest propine . But what , O loue ! and must thy passions be So powerfull in my soule , that they must mooue Mee to accuse him of seueritie , Who in his actions al , most kinde doth prooue ? No rather farre detested be all loue , Or it enforce me in a thought to fall , To him I honor'd aye , and euer shall . Sweete Massinissa , courteous , gentle , kinde , That you are so , i le seale it with my bloud , Nothing torments so much my dying minde , Thou wast not in my better fortunes lou'd , And O that thou , if fates had thought it good , Had cropt the blossomes of my beauties prime , Which now you scarce haue tasted out of time . This , this it is , breeds my eternall smart , That in the desolation of my glory , My wayning beauty did surprise thy heart , Deare Lord , this makes thy dying spouse most sorry , To thinke that she must be the wofull story , A registred remarkeable mischiefe , Whose loue had birth and buriall both in griefe . That you are guiltlesse of my haplesse death , I both attest the heauens and spirits aboue , In witnesse whereof heere I do bequeath , My heart to thee , in token of our loue , From hence no amorous motion shall me mooue : Farewell therefore , to life , to loue , and thee , True witnesses of deare bought liberty . Go wanton Cupid , sport thee with thy mother , In some more happy climate then is ours , Here thou and Death will ne're agree together , He likes the Graues , and thou the reuelling Boures , Lasciuious Rome with her skie-mounting towers , As Empresse of all kingdomes and Empires , Seemes fittest place for fuell to thy fires . Whose amorous youths , when once they feele the force , Of thy enuenomed shafts , shall freely story Mee and my Masinissaes sad diuorce , Feeding their Ladies eares with farre-fetchd glory , Straining their toungs , their wits and memory , In their best forme , with eloquence to show , Such accidents as they desire to know . One in his armes holding his deerest dame , May haply court her with such words as these : Faire worlds admired beauty , here I am , Who not long since , amid ten thousand foes , Most valiantly did this pure brest oppose , Against the fury of the cruell'st fight , Yet neuer wounded till approch'd thy sight . Hard by my feete , great Hasdruball lay slaine , Who to all Romaines , bare innated hate , Not distant farre from him was Syphax tane , Who to oppose himselfe against our state , Receiu'd in Dower his Daughter but of late , Who now attends Scipios triumphant carre , As the proud trophae of this famous warre . Let them thus vainely prattle of my griefe , And mock my woes , my miseries and wrongs , Let them spend time in telling my mischiefe , Let my disgrace be subiect to their songs , And let them all , these iolly things amongs , Proclaime their vallour , and reueale our wrack , Yet in my bonds they shall no pleasure take . For death and I are now agreed together , Euen from this moment neuer more to sunder , Who by no meanes will grant I should go thither , Where worlds of eyes vpon my fall shall wonder , Scipio may threaten , and proud Rome may thunder , That I shall rest their euerlasting thrall , Yet death has vowd to set me free from all , Welcome thy friendship , sweete confederate Death , Who still most faithfull in distresse doost prooue ; Who would not gladly yeeld to thee their breath , Since onely thou canst miseries remooue , O how my soule with thee is falne in loue ! Knowing how quickly thou her paines can finish , Haste then sweet death , ere she her loue diminish . How falsely haue they wrong'd the trueth , that faine , ( Thereby to make thee odious to our eyes ) Thee to be ougly , cruell , meager , leane , Drawing thy portrait with deformities ? Some paint thee fleshlesse , all but bones and knees : Most like a withered vile Anatomy , Some with a lethall Dart do picture thee . But let the world thus paint thee as they list ; Yet thou appeers most louely to my sight , Who in this cup comes but to quench my thirst , And not my soule with ougly shapes t' affright : Well may that torment be accounted light , That emptying with one draught this little boule , From all disasters so may free my soule . Why stay I then to surfet out this potion , Whose drousie liquour shall breed such a slumber , As I shall need to feare no careful motion : Nor with my sad disgrace my thoughts to cumber , My woes , my griefes , and my mishaps past number Shall all be buried in eternall sleepe , My heart , and eyes shall no more sigh and weepe . This body thereby shall bee sau'd from scorne , These hands from bands , mine eyes from misery , This head , which late imperiously hath worne A Princely crowne shall not so abiect be , As from anothers liberality . Which tyrannizing did the same bereaue , In seruile manner it againe receiue . Victorius Scipio , Carthage fatal foe , The scourge of Affrick , and the glore of Rome , Whose chiefest drift and aime is t' have me goe , T' attend his triumphes vainely shall consume , Those idle hopes by which he doth presume , With my disgrace , to grace his high renoune , In his proud entry , to that more proud towne . For why my better destiny now saies , From Affrick , Europe shall no way deuide , This wretched remnant of my worser daies , The best being spent already here in pride : How can it iustly be to me denide ? But as kinde Affrick , gaue me life and beeing , To her againe I giue her owne , I dying . Then O deere country ! yet in loue receaue , This hatefull life that still your harme procur'd , And in compassion grant my bones a graue : Which while I breath'd your quiet still iniur'd , Wherefore from hence that you may rest secur'd : Deere soyle disdaine not such a small request , That breeds thy peace , and my desired rest . Yet one thing let my dying ghost intreat , ( Which to my griefe thy ruine doth presage ) Liue still with Rome , and Romans at debate , Let armes gainst armes , rage be oppos'd to rage : Kil , murther al , forbeare no sexe , no age . Agree at last , and that wil be to soone , When either Rome , or Carthage is vndone . To thee then freely , now I drinke my last , With that the poyson to her head she hied , And while her lookes she doth about her cast , Least any had this act of hers discried : Her staring eyes vnwares by chance espied , The wofull story of Queene Didoes fall , Drawne by some curious pensel on the wal . Which with attention she remarkes and viewes , Wondring the beauty of the work-mans art , Who in a thousand strange and diuers hewes Of choicest colours had discharg'd his part , All was so portrayd in this matchlesse Chart , That liueles shadowes liuing bodies seem'd , The paynter had each lineament so lim'd . Aeneas Nauie on the wauing Mayne , Spred forth their proud sayles for to catch the aire , Here sweld a billow , there it fel againe : A thousand Daulphins skip vp here and there , The mariners ay two and two by paire , With supple palmes did span their heauie oares , At whose sad strokes the wounded ocean roares . High in a turret wretched Dido stood , For to behold her faithlesse louers flight , From whose faire eyes distil'd a christall flood Of briuish teares when she beheld that sight , Each thing was fram'd so curiously and right , That whatsoeuer was to th' eyes presented , Seem'd in effect farre rather , them invented . A little lower did present to view , The saddest obiect in this matchlesse frame : There one might see how in despaire she drew The cruell sword , then fell vpon the same . O how the streames of purple blood foorth came ! From which , as it had bin yet warme , did flie , A little smoke which purld into the skie . Looke how a rose which from the stalke is cropt , Leaues here and there some blossomes on the ground , So here and there the place was all bedropt With her vermilion bloud about her round : The Painters skill in painting of her wound Seem'd most diuine and exquisit indeed , For still there-from the drops yet seem'd to bleed . Sad Sophonisba wistly notes the storie , And giuing foorth a death-presaging grone : Deare wronged Lady ( quoth she ) I am sorry , That time will not permit me to bemone Thy sad mischance , nor shalt thou grieue alone ; For why I hope our ghosts shall meet ere long , Where each to other shall complaine our wrong . O how my fortune doth resemble thine ! How like thy sorrowes are ( alas ) my woes ! Affricke thy country , Affricke likewise mine : Both our destructions from one fountaine flowes : Aeneas thine , his of-spring now my foes ; He bred thy ruine , they my sad distresse ; He wrong'd a Queene , they wrong'd me now no lesse . And since the greatnesse of thy mind was such , Death to preferre vnto a liuing shame , Shall not thy braue example mooue as much Desire in me for to performe the same ? Let comming ages heare it told by Fame , How Sophonisba imitating thee , Chus'd rather death , then liuing Infamy . This spoke without amazement , feare or dread , She drinks the fatall poyson ( noble Dame ) Which streight his venim through her veines doth spre ▪ Scorning resistance whereso ere it came : Euen as we see a little sparke or flame , When once it kindles where it finds fit matter , From place to place his furious flames doth scatter . Now while this powerfull potion in her veines , So fiercely wrought , her life began to faile , Which no more lordship in her brest retaines : So bitterly death did it their assaile , Which hauing bidden to her heart farewell : Her chiefest dwelling straight for feare she flies For safety vpwards to her lips and eyes . There as if death had com'd awhile to play Vnder the shadow of discheuild haire , Which dangling o're her face and shoulders lay , She yet retaines a countenance most faire , Her gesture did her willing death declare : And as her breath by intermission dies , So peece by peece her beautie fades and flies . Most like vnto a tender Lilly faire , That 's ouer-blasted with some raging storme , Whose sauory blossomes late perfum'd the ayre , Hangs downe his head , losing his wonted forme , Or as a flower chokt with a canker worme , Euen so the natiue beauty now ore-blowne , Of this faire Queen seem's borrowed , not her owne . Thus while her life stayes in an houering feare , Within the precinct of her currall lips : Finding grim death had tane possession there , Not willing more to enter in his grips , Giuing a bitter sob from thence she skips , Leauing free passage to her soule opprest , To leaue the daintie prison of her brest . But soule and body loth to part asunder . Both seeme some little respite to intreat : Yet th' one must go , the other stay : a wonder For all the world that viewes it to regreet : Victorious death now strikes , he leaues to threat : So this braue Dame her gallant ghost vp yeelds , Which flies with triumph to th' Elizian fields . FINIS .

CAELIA . Containing certaine Sonets .

BY DAVID MVRRAY , SCOTO-BRITTAINE .

To the right Noble and his most honoured good Lord , RICHARD Lord DINGWALL . LEet it not seeme offensiue to your sight , ( Most noble Lord ) that here my Muse propines You , with her youthfull follies , in those lines Deckt with Inuention of conceits so light ? For the dread sounds ( which dastard minds affright ) Of neighing coursers , and of trumphets shrill , Had bin a Subject fitter for my quill , T' haue bred vnto thy haught eres delight . But since my Muse , as yet , did neuer frame , Her sporting vaine , to sing of Martiall blowes , ( Which Mirror-like , your valorus arme oft showes Both to your owne , and to your countries fame ) Yet deigne to view , ther loue-sicke verse meane while : Mars oft-times ioyes to see faire Venus smile . And if vnto this idle humerous Vaine , Where Youth and folly shew their skil-lesse Art , She breed acceptance , she her wits shall straine , ( Ere it be long ) a subiect to impart , That to your noble eares shall seeme more worth : Till when , accept this her abortiue birth . Your LL. to be commanded , DA. MVRRAY .
Sonet . 1. MY infant Muse , when I began to write , Led by the furie of my vnstay'd yeares , Sung euer as my fancie did conceit , As by her method-wanting-layes appreares : Now prays'd she Caelia's beauty , then admires Th' enchanting Musicke of anothers quill : And now againe she would bewaile with teares , Th' vntimely fals of some whom death did kill . Thus neuer staying at one setled theame , Till that she grew more graue , and I more old , Vnder protection of a royall name , Faire Sophonisha's tragicke death she told . Yet lest poore Muse her first conceits were smor'd , She here presents them to a NOBLE LORD .
Sonet 2. KInd Nature once did labour so in birth , That all the gods to helpe here were conuein'd , ALL 's Mother then such bitter throws sustaind , Or she this child of wonder could bring forth : At length supported by celestiall might , She 's brought to bed euen of a girle diuine , Whom al the present Deities propine With what rare graces could enrich the sight , Loues Queene gaue Beauty , Dian Chastnes rare , Minerua Iudgement , thundring Ioue the Name , Apollo grac'd her with her golden haire , Iuno the Heart that should all hearts in flame , Cupid gaue her his owne two louely eyes , Wherwith all the ●are darted who her sees .
3. Sonet . BEauty beeing long a resident aboue , With importune celestiall sutes was deau'd , Of sacred sprites who still her fauour crau'd , That she from thence resolved to remooue : And so at last from top of all the Rounds , Loue on his wings conuoy'd her here below , Where she not willing any should her know , Sought out the North to be her resting bounds , There she remains her name being chang'd , yet stil For beauty now faire Caelia she is cal'd , Whose sight sometimes , as it the gods all thral'd , So now her lookes poore humane soules doth kil . And oh no , wonder ! if they thus do end , Since th●●●ut faile where gods could not defend .
4. Sonet . THy beauty Caelia so betrayd mine eyes , That at the first they forc'd my heart to yeeld : Thus ouercome into a bloudlesse field , A yeelding slaue vnto thy mercy flees , Where humble prostrate on affections knees , Tyde with the chaines of strongest loue ( alas ) I do intreat thy pitty to my case , Pitty but which thy haplesse captiue dy's , Then as thy beautie did but stroke or come , So let thy mercy without rigour saue , Remorse and pittie shall thee best become , Remorse and pitty which not els I craue . Thrise happy thraldome if thou p●●y moue , Vnhappy , bondage if disd●●●● 〈◊〉
5. Sonet . MY griefes increase still urg'd me to impart , My soules felt-paine vnto my fairest faire , And that she might b' acquainted with my care : I choos'd my tongue the agent for my heart , Which being well instructed as I thought , In all the passions which oppresse a minde , And being glad to shew how I was pin'd : With swift wing'd hast I Caelias presence sought : But I no sooner had attain'd her sight , When loe my tongue betra'd me to her eyes , And dastard-like into my throat straight flies , Leauing me cleane confounded with his flight , Beat backe with sighes , yet it return'd againe ▪ But spake of pleasure when it should of paine .
6. Sonet . STill must I grone , still must I sigh , still mourne , And cannot grones , nor sighes , nor teares haue place , To make faire Caelia one sweete smile returne ▪ Or at the least to shew some signe of grace ? Ah! who would say that one so faire of face , So rare of beauty , so diuine in all , Disdain'd to pitty one in such a case , And one poore soule who leaues her beauties thral ? Still must I breath those grieuous grones in vaine : Stil must my sighs euanish in the ayre , Still must those teares be spent in waste I straine , Stil must my passions all increase my care . Then gentle death come and dissolue my paine , Since sighes , teares , grones and passions bred disdaine .
7. Sonet . PAle , sad Aurora leaue thy showres to raine , Of perl-like cristall teares thou dayly sheds , In tender bosomes of the flowry meads , Wayling his death wh'at llions siege was slaine : Oh let thy soule appeas'd ! with this remaine . That those thy teares pleads pitty by there sight , And more , the great bright patterne of the light , To quench his drought carrouses them againe , Cease then to weepe , and leaue me still to mourne , Complayning best becomes my mirthlesse state , Wh'in quenchlesse flames of lucklesse loue does burne : ( Thy Memnons losse requires no more regrate ) And since my owne cannot procure but scorne , Lend me thy mouing teares , sweet weeping morne .
8. Sonet . ANd is it true deere , that you are vnkind ? Shall I beleeue sweet Saint that you are so ? I feare you are , but stay , oh ! stay my minde : Too soone to credit that that breeds thy woe , Yet whether shall my resolutions goe , To thinke you are , or not vnkinde I must Th' effect saies I , and yet my fancy , no , Being loth such vndeserued harme to trust ; My passions thus such opperations breed , In my deuided soule that I can not , Conceit you are that which you are indeed : Imperious loue doth so controll my thought , Vnhappy I that did such loue imbrace , Vnconstant you that bates such loue ( alasse )
9. Sonet . BRight Angels face , the paradise of Loue , High stately throne where Maiesty doth shine , Beauties Idaea , sweetnesse sweetned shrine , Cleare heauens , wherein proud Phoebus daz●ers moue , Faire pearly rolles that staine the iuory white , Inuironed with corroll died walles , Sweet-nectard breath , more soft then Zephir's gales , Heart-reauing-tongue whose speech still breeds delight , Smooth cheekes of Rose , and Lyllies interlac'd , Art-scorning-nose , in framing which no doubt Nature of her whole skill plai'd bankerout . When it in midst of such perfections plac'd . Gold-glittering-tresses , and soules-wounding-lockes , Onely proud eares , more deafe then flinty rockes .
10. Sonet . MY Caelia sat once by a christal brooke , Gazing how smoothly the cleere streams did slide , Who had no sooner her sweet sight espi'd , When with amazement they did on her looke , The waters slyding by her seem'd to mourne , Desirous stil for to behold her beauty , Neglecting to the Ocean their duty , In thousand strange Meanders made returne , But oh ! againe with what an heauenly tune , Those pleasant streames that issued from the spring , To see that goddesse did appeare to sing , Whom hauing view'd did as the first had done . If those pure streames delighted so to eye her , Iudge how my soule doth surfet when I see her .
11. Sonet . THe Suns fond child when he arriu'd into , The sights inueigling palace of his sire , Incens'd with a praeposterous desire , Would needs to guide his fathers cart step to , So fondly I once , entering ( alasse ) Her chamber who bereaues not eyes , but soules , And whiles my bold approach there 's none controules , I needs would venture to behold her face , But as Appolloes child more rash then wise , Did manage those fierce steeds with skillesse Art , They like a fire-brand flang him from the skies : Thus while I ey'd her , beauty fier'd my heart : Only this difference rests betwixt vs two , I ceaslesse burne , his flames were quencht in Po.
12. Sonet . AS Icarus proud of his borrowed winges , Following his flying father through the skies , Aboue the ayery region did arise , And for to gaze on Phoebus vpward springs , Where while with houering pens he staring hings Thinking the glory of that cart to tel , From which his match in fondnesse head-long fel : Appolloes rayes his waxen feathers sings : So I resembling him like fondly flew , For my desire being wing'd with fancies plumes To gaze on brighter rayes then those presumes : Wherewith the Sunne , the sonne of Dedal slew . And as our flights so were our fals ( alasse ) He in the sea , I into blacke disgrace .
13. Sonet . A Due sweete Caelia for I must depart , And leaue thy sight , and with thy sight all ioy , Conuoi'd with care , attended with annoy : A vagabonding wretch from part to part , Onely deare Caelia grant me so much grace , As to vouchsafe this heart befraught with sorrow , T' attend vpon thy shadow euen and morrow : Whose wonted pleasure was to view thy face , And if sometimes thou soliter remaine , And for thy dearest deare a sigh le ts slide , This poore attender sitting by thy side Shall be thy Eccho to repli't againe . Then farewell Caelia for I must away , And to attend thee my poore heart shal stay .
14. Sonet . FOrsaken whether shall I goe ( alasse ) What place to me can any comfort grant , Sith I must leaueth ' onely happy place , That doth retaine the worlds admited Saint ? Oh neuer let the rising Sun auant , I saw his brightnesse ! not her brighter face ; Nor let the night in sable shadowes hant , If that I dreame not of my deare some space . No longer wish I to enjoy this ayre , No longer craue I breath , no more to liue , Then that I may still gaze vpon my faire , Whose sweetest smiles all kind of comfort giue . Daies , houres and nights , and places where I goe , Til I her see shall but procure my woe .
15. Sonet . DAies , houres and nights thy presence may deteine , But neither day , nor houre , nor night shal not Barre thy sweet beauty from mine eyes vnseene , Since so diuinely printed in my thought , That skilful Greeke , that Loues Idaea wrought , And lim'd it so exactly to the eye , When beauties rarest patterns he had sought , With this thy portrait could not matched bee , Tho on a table he , most skilful he , In rarest collours rarest parts presented , So on a hart if one may match a tree , Tho skillesse I thy rarer shape haue painted . Not by Loues selfe , Loues beauty formed he , But by thy selfe , thy selfe art form'd in me .
16. Sonet . MOunt Etnas flames may peraduenture cease , Yet my true heart shall burne still in a low , The swelling streames o're bankes and brayes that flow , By miracle may stay their swiftest race . But restlesse streames of liqui'd teares ( alasse ) Shall neuer stay from my poore eies to rin , The congeald ice longe frozen may grow thin , By the reflex of bright Appolloes face , But ah ! my hopes shall freeze still in dispaire , Til I enjoy againe faire Caelias sight , Whose beauties beames which shin'd o're me so bright , Through longsome absence thus procures my care . Sweet Caelia then make speed my flames to quench , To raise my hopes and those my teares to stanch .
17. Sonet . GAzing from out the windowes of mine eyes , To view the obiect of my hearts desire , My famish'd lookes in wandring troupes forth flies : Hoping by some good fortune to espie her , But hauing flowne with staring wings long space , And missing still the aime that caus'd them soare , Scorning to feed on any other face , Turnes to their cabins backe and flies no more , And there enclos'd disdaines to view the light , Shadowing my face with sable cloudes of griefe : And thus I breath in cares continuall night , Till that her sight afford me some reliefe . Sweet then make hast these cloudy cares to cleare , And glad those eyes that holds thy sight so deare .
18. Sonet . DEere once you told me that you dream'd my breath Was past , and that your eyes beheld my graue , Likewise you sayd that sorrow for my death , From out those eyes distilling teares beraue , Ah t' was no dreame ! if you will but perceiue How in effect for you I hourely die , Thinke that no vision did you then deceiue , Sith you may view the very truth in me , If so you dream'd this onely seem's to be : A dreame that for my death such teares you spent , Worse then a thousand deaths for you I drie , Yet for my griefe you neuer teare once lent . But if for dreaming so you mourn'd so much , Farre rather mourne that in effect its such .
19. Sonnet . Beeing accused by a Gentlewoman for stealing of a Booke . LEt not thy selfe , faire Nimphe , nor none of thine , Accuse me of no sacriligious theft , For by the world , and by the starry lift , And by the honour I doe owe thy shrine , By the infernall spirits , and gods deuine , And by the hallowed stately Stigian brayes , I neuer meant ( sweete dame ) thee to displease , For why thy griefe had likewise then beene mine , If euer ought deare-loue from thee I stale , I both protest and sweare it was no booke , No nothing but a poore inueighling looke , For which againe I left my freedome thrall , Then blame me not for stealing of thy bookes , Since you steale hearts , I onely steale poore lookes .
20. Sonet . POnder thy cares , and summe them all in one , Get the account of all thy hearts disease , Recken the torments do thy mind displease , Write vp each sigh , each plaint , each teare , each grone , Remember on thy griefe conceau'd by day , And call to minde thy nights disturbed rest , Thinke on those visions did thy soule molest , While as thy wearied corpes a sleeping lay , And when all those thou hast enrold a right , Into the count-booke of thy daily care , Extract them truly , then present the sight , With them of flinty Caelia the faire , That she may see , if yet moe ills remaines , For to be paid to her vniust disdaines .
21. Sonet , Made at the Authors beeing in Bourdeaux . THou Sunne , those trees , this earth , faire riuer cleere , Vouchsafe t' attend my pittious plaints , alasse , And if remorse of a distressed case Can plead for pitty , listen oh to heare ! Then be reporters to my fairest faire , To Phoenix Caelia of my restlesse paines , This ages glory , whom the North retaines , Inclos'd by Neptune for his darling there , But ah ! those trees , this earth cannot remooue , And Phoebus feares her rayes shall dim his pride , And if this riuer should my complaint guide , Then Neptune would grow iealous of his loue , So that I craue all these supports in vaine , I plagu'd alone , alone must beare my paine .
22. Sonet : On the misfortune of Bellizarius , great Lieutenant to the Emperour Iustinian . STay passenger , and with relenting looke , Behold heere Bellizarius , I pray , Whom neuer-constant fortune , changing aye , Euen at the top of greatnesse quite forsooke , And which is wondrous , in a moment tooke Mee from the hight of an Imperial sway , And plac'd me heere , blind begging by this way , Whose greatnesse somtime scarce the world could brook , And while thou daignes thy pittifull aspect , Ah sorrow not so much my fortunes past , As I beseech thee to bewaile this last ! That from such honour abiect-lie deiect , I yet am forc'd a spectacle to liue , Glad to receiue the meanest almes thou 't giue .
Sonet to the right worthy Gentleman , and his louing cousin M. Iohn Murray . WHile Eagle-Like vpon the lofty wings Of thy aspiring Muse thou flies on hie , Making th' immortall Sprites in loue with thee , And of those Ditties thou so sweetly sings , Where quaffing boules of their Ambrosian springs , And sweetest Nectar , thou diuinely stayes : Low by the earth ( poore I ) sings homely layes , Till like desire of fame me vpward brings , Then borrowing , from thy rich Muse , some plumes , Icarian-like beyond my skill I soare , While comming where thy songs are heard before , My lines are mockt , that thine to match presumes : And thus I perish in my high desire , While thou' rt more prais'd , the more thou dost aspire .
Idem . INriched sprite by great Apollo crown'd With cirkling wreaths of stately laurell Bayes , Scorning as 't seemes that thy inchanting layes Should haue their praise but of immortall sound : For heau'ns seeing earth , so be thy songs renown'd , Draw vp thy sweetest Ditties to the skies , Whose well tun'd notes Phoebus t' his harpe applies : While as his chariot wheels about the Round . And thus thy diuine-sprite-inspired Muse Hath made thee here admir'd , belou'd aboue , She sings so sweetly that she doth infuse Wonder in mortals , in the godhead loue : No maruell if thy songs b'admired then , That yeeld both musicke vnto gods and men .
The complaint of the Shepheard Harpalus . POore Harpalus opprest with loue , Sate by a christall brooke : Thinking his sorrowes to remooue , Oft-times therein did looke . And heating how on pibble stones , The murmuring riuer ran , As if it had bewail'd his grones , Vnto it thus began . Faire streame ( quoth he ) that pitties me , And heares my matchlesse moane , Is thou be going to the sea , As I do so suppone , Attend my plaints past all releefe , Which dolefully I breath , Acquaint the sea Nymphes with the greefe , Which stil procures my death ▪ Who sitting on the cliffy rockes , May in their songs expresse : While as they combe their golden lockes , Poore Harpalus distresse . And so perhaps some passenger , That passeth by the way : May stay and listen for to heare , Them sing this dolefull lay . Poore Harpalus a shepheard swaine , More rich in youth then store , Lou'd faire Philena , haplesse man , Philena oh therefore ! Who still remorceles-hearted maide , Tooke pleasure in his paine : And his good will ( poore soule ) repayd With vndeseru'd disdayne . Ne're shepheard lou'd a shepherdesse More faithfully then he : Ne're shepheard yet beloued lesse , Of shepheardesse could be . How oft with dying lookes did he To her his woes impart ? How oft his sighes did testifie The dolor of his hart ? How oft from valleis to the hils , Did he his griefes rehearse ? How oft re-eccho'd they his ills , A backe againe ( alas ? ) How oft on barkes of stately Pines , Of Beech , of Holen greene , Did he ingraue in mournfull lines , The dole he did sustaine ? Yet all his plaints could haue no place , To change Philena's mind : The more his sorrowes did increase , The more she prou'd vnkind . The thought whereof through verie care , Poore Harpalus did moue : That ouercome with high despaire , He quat both life and loue .
Sonet on the death of the Lady Cicily Weemes , Lady of Tillebarne . FAire Cicil's losse , be thou may fable song , Not that for which proud Rome and Carthage straue But thine more famous , whom ago not long Vntimely death intomb'd so soone in graue . Deare sacred Lady , let thy ghost receiue These dying accents of my mourning quill , The sweetest-smelling incense that I haue , With sighes and teares vpon thy hearse to spill . To thee ( deare Saint ) I consecrate ay still These sad oblations of my mirthlesse mind , Who while thou breath'd , this wondring world did fill With thy perfections , Phoenix of thy kind ; From out whose ashes hence I prophecie , Shall neuer such another Phoenix flie .
Epitaph on the death of his deare cousin , M. Dauid Murray . REceiue ( deare friend ) into thy tombe those teares ; Those tears which from my griefe-fraught eyes distil , Whose drearie shew the true resemblance beares Of those sad cares which inwardly me kill : Take them deere friend , since sent from such a one , Who lou'd thee liuing , wailes thee being gone : No fained teare , nor forged sigh ( God knowes ) I sacrifice vpon thy wofull hearse , My mournings are according to my woes , And correspondent to my griefe my verse , My sighes are ceaselesse ecchoes , that replies , For thy sad death my hearts relenting cries . Aye me ! how can I but regrait thy case , Who in the full Meridian of thy yeares . While strength of body held the chiefest place , And while thy selfe , thy selfe euen most appeares : Death so vntimely should thy life bereaue : Impouerishing thy friends , t' inrich the graue . Ah! had thou not beene sociall , gentle , kinde , Most louing , courteous , liberall by measure , Riche in all parts , but most of all in minde , Which thou instord'st with vertues precious treasure : Had thou not beene I say repleat with those , Lesse had thy praises beene , and lesse my woes . In nothing more thy vertue proou'd her power , Then in thy friendships well aduised choise : Who lou'd thee once , still loues thee to this houre , The graue their fight , but not their loue doth close , And which was more , the mightiest of the land , Shee ioyn'd to thee into affections band , And well the greatnesse of thy minde did merit , Euen that the greatest spirits should thee cherish , Who of it selfe , did from it selfe inherit , That which in great men do's but greatnesse perish : " True worth is not discern'd by outward show , " Vertues Idaea by the minde we know . Ah foolish they that bragge so much in vaine , Onely by blood nobilitate to be , While in their bosomes they do scarce retaine , The smallest sparke of magnanimity ! I hold this for a generall Maxime good , True honor comes from vertue as from blood . And yet I cannot but confesse indeed , That vertue in a generous stomack still , Doth shine more cleere then when it doth proceed , From out a base-borne brest , marke who so will , For why thy worth had ne're so cleerly shin'd , Had not thy birth beene equall to thy minde . Without affection I must truely say , Thou wast a well-borne Gentleman by birth , Com'd of a race nere spotted to this day , Thine ancestors were men of noble worth , Famous in bloud , in vertue and in name , And all , as thou , went to the graue with fame . Whereof this comfort doth arise I see , To those that lou'd thy life , condoles thy death , Though thou be dead in part , all cannot dye , Thy mindes braue conquest shall suruiue thy breath , Death may well triumph on thy bodies fall , But thy great vertue euer florish shall . Then let thy ghost goe in eternall peace , To the Elisian sweet desired rest , There with the happy to enioy a place , To taste the speechlesse pleasures of the blest : 〈◊〉 surfitting those euerlasting ioyes , That neuer feele dist●rbance , or annoies . There liue still happy , while I haplesse heere , Must celebrate thy exequies in sorrow , Paying this tribute to thy tombe each yeere , Of sighes and ●eares , which from my greifes I borrow : And ah ! no wonder that I doe the same , For both I beare thy surname , and thy name .
Sonet on the death of his cousin , Adam Murray . I Know not whether discontent or loue , ( Deere friend ) hath bred this thy abortiue death : Or if that both vnited shew'd their wrath , To make thee this thy fatal last to proue , But bee the motion what it list , did moue , This thy vnlook'd for sad vntimely fal , Yet with the losse of breath thou losd not al , Thy better part still liues the heauens aboue , And here thy pen immortaliz'd thy name , From time , obliuion , enuy , and the graue , That to corruption now thy bones receiue , But can no way deface thy glorious fame , Which still must sore on wings of endlesse praise , While yeers haue months , months weekes , and weekes haue daies .
FINIS .