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nobility of his house, or the honour of his atchievements, might most commend him, but that we have an authentick rule: ”
Nam genus et proavos et quæ nos non fecimus ipsi,
For, though he was an honourable slip of that ancient tree of nobility, which was no disadvantage to his virtue, yet he brought more glory to the name of Vere, than he took of blood from the family.
He was, amongst all the queen's swordsmen, inferior to none, but superior' to many; of whom it may be said, to speak much of him were the way to leave out somewhat that might add to his praise, and to forget more than would make to his honour.. I find not that he came much to the court, for he lived almost
perpetually in the camp; but, when he died, no man had more of the queen's favour, and none less envied, for he seldom troubled it with the noise and alarms of supplications; his way was another sort of undermining
They report that the queen, as she loved martial men, would court this gentleman, as soon as he appeared in her presence: and surely he was a soldier of great worth and command, thirty years in the service of the states, and twenty years over the English in chief, as the queen's general: and he, that had seen the battle of Newport, might there best have taken him and his noble brother *, the Lord of Tilbury, to the life.
MY Lord of Worcester I have here put last, but not least in the queen's favour; he was of the ancient and noble blood of the Beauforts, and of her † grandfather's kin, by the mother, which the queen could never forget, especially where there was an incurrence of old blood, with fidelity, a mixture which ever sorted with the queen's nature; and tho there might hap somewhat in this house, which might invert her grace, though not to speak of my lord himself, but in due reverence and honour, I mean contrariety or suspicion in religion"; yet the queen ever respected his house, and principally his noble blood, whom she first made master of her horse, and then admitted him of her council of state.
In his youth, part whereof he spent before he came to reside at court, he was a very fine gentleman, and the best horseman and tilter of the times, which were then the manlike and noble recreations of the court, and such as took up the applause of men, as well as the praise and commendation of ladies; and when years had abated those exercises of honour, he grew then to be a faithful and profound counsellor; and as
I have placed him last, so was he the last liver of all her servants of her favour, and had the bonour to see his renowned mistress, and all of them, laid in the places of their rests; and for himself, after a life of very noble and remarkable reputation, and in a peaceable old age, a fate that I make the last, and none of my slightest observations, which befel not many of the rest, for they expired like unto a light blown out with the snuff stinking, not commendably extinguished, and with an offence to the standers-by. And thus I have delivered up my poor essay or little draught of this great princess and her times with the servants of her state and favour: I cannot say I have finished it, for I know how defective and imperfect it is, as limbed only in the original nature, not without the active blessings, and so left it as a task fitter for remoter times, and the sallies of some bolder pencil to correct that which is amiss, and draw the rest up to life, than for me to have endeavoured it. I took it in consideration, how I might have dashed into it much of the stain of pollution, and thereby have defaced that little which is done ; for I profess I have taken care to master my pen, that I might not err animo *, or of set purpose discolour each or any of the parts thereof, otherwise than in concealment. Haply there are some who will not approve of this modesty, but will çensure it for pusillanimity, and with the cunning artist attempt to draw their line further out at length, and upon this of mine, which way (with somewhat more ease) it may be effected; for that the frame is ready made to their hands, and then haply I could draw one in the midst of theirs, but that modesty in me forbids the defacements in men departed, their posterity yet remaining, enjoying the merit of their virtues, and do still live in their honour. And I had rather incur the censure of abruption, than to be conscious and taken in the manner, sinning by eruption, or trampling on the graves of persons at rest, which living we durst not look in the face, nor make our addresses unto them, otherwise than with due regard to their honours, and reverence to their virtues.
ST. HILARY'S TEARS.
Shed upon all Professions, from the Judge to the Pettifogger.
From the spruce Dames of the Exchange, to the dirty walking Fish
And indeed, from the Tower-Stairs, to Westminster-Perry,
FOR WANT OF A STIRRING MIDSUMMER TERM,
This Year of Disasters, 1642.
Written by one of his Secretaries that had nothing else to do
London, printed Amo. Dom. 1642. Quarto, containing six pages. I
THAT? Midsummer! how comes it then, the sun and moon, of
gold and silver, which had wont to disperse their radiant lustre with greater brightness and consolation than those that shine in the Zodiack, have now withdrawn their splendor, and left us in this Cimmerian night of small takings ? A term so like a vacation? You would take them to be the Gemini, which constellation never appears but out of darkness; there is no plague to fright away the termers, unless it be that plague of plagues, want of trading, which their money would easily cure.
At Westminster-hall, where in pristine ages you might without offence shoulder a lord to get through the press, now you may walk in the same posture a justice of peace doth in his own great hall at the examia nation of a delinquent, play with your band-strings, and twist your beard with the same gravity, and not an elbow-rub to disturb you; the benches are better half empty, and those few judges left have time enough to get a nap, and no noise to awake them; the bars, that had wont to swell with a five-fold row of listed gowns, where the favourites in the front imbursed more fees than would supply an army, and the rest (by lady) had good doings, a motion or a short cause to open, are
Now so einpty that boys may peep over them; the surly tipstaff and messenger, whom your best oratory, and money to boot, would hardly persuade to admit you within the bench-room, stands looking over the door as it were through a pillory, to ask you, sir, shall I open ; 'and fur. the teaster you give him kisses his hand and scrapes you a leg, as fawningly, as a hungry spaniel takes a bone from his master, the laws yers, instead of perusing the breviates, and reducing the matter in question to cases, now buying up all the pamphlets, and dispersing themselves into corners to read them, thereby to keep their tongues in - use, lest the faculties of brawling should be dried up with unwilling silence.
The prime court, the chancery (wherein the clerks had wont to dash their clients out of countenance with long dashes ; the examiners to take the depositions in byperboles, and round about Robinhood circumstances, with saids and aforesaids, to inlarge the number of sheets ; the registers, to whom you used to come, in the same equipage as if you had a suit to the council-board, and had this ready answer, well you must wait till the latter end of the term) now as silent as a puritan conventicle when the lights are out; no waiting, no hyperboles, no dashes, nor any employment, towards maintenance of taffata, sack, wenches, and other the usual prodigalities, and luxuries, whereunto the gentlemen that practise there are addicted. That court, that hath been known to decree pro, review, and decree con, hath the bar now empty of pro's, and con's, no wrangling, no noise, but the lamentation
lord's escape. The court of requests, to whom so many thousand of Joyal, faithful, and obedient subjects have come humbly complaining, and shewing, can shew you at this present no subject, but its own bumble complaint; yon that knew it, when the necessity of over great employment caused it to double the number of its clerks, and they to treble theirs, when it was sollicited by petitions as numberless as hops, or ants, which all her Welch kindred had brought two-hundred and twelve and twenty miles, to get admitted in Forma pauperis, and thereby enabled to do more mischief than the best pursed clients in England, would wonder how it should tumble from such a throng, to such a vacation of employment; that that court, that hath made two-hundred orders in one cause, should be in danger not to have one cause to order; it is methinks a lamentable change.
The ministers of the court of wards do all wear mourning liveries in their faces, as if fate had granted out writs in the nature of a Diem clausit extremum, after the death of Feoda multa, to find their offices for Vacua
pluima; and of all courts else the Chequers must needs come within the limitation of this calamity, because they stand so much for the King, and in that predicament is the King's-Bench ; marry, if any thrive, it must needs be the Common-pleas, for, as the times go, nothing stands staff, but what pertains to the commons, and yet they meet with revolts too, as well as the rest.
On both sides of the hall they complain: At heaven they say there is not a lawyer nor a clerk comes near them; and at hell, where they were wont to flock like swallows to a reed-bush, they come dropping
in but now and then one, as opportunity of business makes them able. The coaches, which had wont to rumble up and down as they would challenge heaven to thunder for a wager, and did use to lie in the palace yard, and before the inns of court gates, like so many basses, or fleets of fisher-boats in harbour, pearing over the haven-keys, now seem like western barges on the Thames at a high tide, here and there one.
And you are no sooner out of the hall-yard, but, entering into King. street, you find the cooks leaning against door-posts, ruminating upon those Halcyon terms, when whole herds of clerks, sollicitors, and their elients, had wont to come with their sharp-set noses and stomachs from the hall, and devour the puddings and minced pyes by dozens, as swiftly as a kennel of hounds would worry up a dead horse, and now the courts are risen before they are hungry; the taverns, where an iron mill would hardly have drowned the noise of the yawling boys, the bar-bell, the fiddling and roaring above stairs, are now so silent you may rock a child asleep : The spruce mistress, that had wont to sit in the bar, domineering over the drawers, and not to be spoken withal, if you would kiss her arse to speak with her, now so familiar, bids you so heartily welcome, and will come and join her half pint with you, and let you salute her, and thank you, and think it very well, if all that courtesy will invite you to mount the reckoning to a pottle; the ale houses and tobacco-shops are grown sweet for want of takings, you may walk by them without danger of being choaked.
All along the Strand (lodgings being empty) you shall find the house keepers generally projecting where to borrow, and what to pawn towards payment of their quarter's rents, thereby to preserve their leases from forfeiture, and themselves from the tyranny of their stern landlords, who are very infidels in trusting, and will not forbear a minute ; nay, the mischief on it is, there are no courtiers nor bad paymasters to curse and rail at for want of money, and that is the heaviest torment of all.
If you step aside into Covent-Garden, Long-Acre, and Drury-Lane, where those doves of Venus, those birds of youth and beauty (the wanton ladics), do build their nests, you shall find them in such a dump of amazeinent, to see the hopes of their trading frustrate, their beauties decayed for want of means to procure Pomatum and Fucus : Their eyes, which like glistering comets had wont. to dazzle their idolaters, now shadowed with clouds of grief; their golden tresses, which had wont to Aag about their shoulders, like so many ensigns in Cupid's regiment, and every hair thereof had a servant or visitant, which did superstitiously dote on it, now for want of curling and ordering, grown to the fashion of an Irish rug; and what a misery it is to see the velvets, sattins, and taffaties, nay the curious smocks sent to the brokers, and the whole wardrobe, that was purchased with 50 large a proportion of free favours and communities, now reduced to one poor tufted Holland suit? Is it not pity to see them, poor souls, who had wont to shine like so many constellations in the firmament of the suburbs, and be hurried in coaches to the taverns, and asparagus-gardens, where ten or twenty pounds suppers were but trifles with them, should now go to the chandlers and herb wives in slip-shoes, for cheese and onions to dinner? Well, content yourselves (you attractive loadstones,