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And thus sets on him " See, my lord, how here Thus the good father, with an humble thought,
According to his quiet humour, sought
And for those good advertisements you gave. “ And now, my lord, I trust you will sit down, “ And truly, father, could I but get free, And rest you after all this passed thrall,
(Without b’ing rent) and hold my dignity; And be yourself, a prince within your own, That sheepcot, which in yonder vale you see, Without advent'ring any more at all
(Beset with groves, and those sweet springs hard by) Your state in others' bottoms; having known I rather would my palace wish to be, The dangers that on mighty actors fall;
Than any roof of proudest majesty. Since in the foot of your accounts, your gains But that I cannot do I have my part: Come short to make ev'n reck’ning with your pains. And I must live in one house with my heart. “ Enjoy now what you wrought for in this sort, “ I know that I am fix'd unto a sphere, (If great men's ends be to enjoy their ends) That is ordain'd to move- It is the place And know, the happi'st pow'r, the greatest port, My fate appoints me; and the region where Is only that which on itself depends.
I must, whatever happens, there embrace. Here have you state enongh, to be a court Disturbance, travail, labour, hope, and fear, Unto yourself! here! where the world attends Are of that clime, engender'd in that place. On you, (not you on it) observed sole:
And action best (I see) becomes the best : You elsewhere but a part, are here the whole. The stars that have most glory, have no rest. “ The advantages of princes are, we see,
“ Besides, it were a coward's part to fly But things conceiv'd imaginarily:
Now from my hold, that have held out so well For ev'ry state of fortune, in degree,
It b’ing the station of my life, where I Some image hath of principality ;
Am set to serve, and stand as centinel: Which they enjoy more natural and free, And must of force make good the place, or die, Than can great pow'rs, chain'd with observancy, When Fate and Fortune (those great states) compel. And with the fetters of respect still tyd;
And then we lords in such case ever are, B'ing easier far to follow, than to guide.
As Peace can cut our throats as well as War: “ And what are courts, but camps of misery? “ And hath her griefs, and her incumbrances : That do besiege men's states, and still are pressid And doth with idle rest deform us more T'assail, prevent, complot, and fortify;
Than any magha can, or sorceress, In hope t’ attain, in fear to be suppress'd.
With basely wasting all the martial store Where all with shows and with apparency,
Of heat and spir't, (which graceth manliness) Men seem as if for stratagems address’d:
And makes us still false images adore :
In gross dull glutt'ny, vap'rous gormandise. “ And where fair hopes are laid, as ambushments, “ And therefore since I am the man I am, To intercept your life, and to betray
I must not give a foot, lest I give all. Your liberty to such entanglements,
Nor is this bird within my breast so tame, As you shall never more get clear away:
As to be fed at hand, and mock'd withal:
Which oft we see comes less by living long.
And eminent indeed, but still dy'd young? Building your fortunes upon others' tombs, As if Worth had agreed with Destiny, [wrong. For other than your own posterity.
"That Time, which rights them, should not do them You see, courts few advance; many undo: Besides, old age doth give (by too long space) And those they do advance, they ruin too. Our souls as many wrinkles as our face. « And therefore now, my lord, since you are here, “ And as for my inheritance and state, Where you may have your rest with dignity; (Whatever happen) I will so provide Work that you may continue so: and clear That law shall, with what strength it hath, collate Yourself from out these streights of misery. The same on mine, and those to mine ally'd : Hold your estate and life as things more dear, Although I know she serves the present state, Than to be thrown at an uncertainty.
And can undo again what she hath tyd. 'T is time that you and England have a calm; But that we leave to him, who points out heirs ; And time the olive stood above the palm." And howsoever yet the world is theirs.
" Where they must work it out; as born to run And therefore I sincerely will report, Those fortunes, which as mighty families
First how thy parts were fair convey'd within ; (As ever they could be) before have done.
How that brave mind was built, and in what sort Nor shall they gain by mine indignities,
All thy contexture of thy heart hath been: Who may without my courses be undone.
Which was so nobly fram'd, so well composod, And whoso makes his state and life his ties
As Virtue hever had a fairer seat, To do unworthily, is born a slave;
Nor could be better lodg'd, nor more repos'd, And let him with that brand go to his grave.” Than in that goodly frame; where all things sweet,
And all things quiet, held a peaceful rest ; Here would the rev'rend father have reply'd, Where passion did no sudden tumults raise, “ That it were far more magnanimity,
That might disturb her-Nor was ever breast T endure, than to resist—That we are ty'd Contain'd so much, and made so little noise: As well to bear the inconveniency
That by thy silent modesty is found, And strains of kings and states; as to abide The empti'st vessels make the greatest sound: Untimely rains, tempests, sterility,
For thou so well discern’d'st thyself, bad'st read And other ills of nature that befall;
Man and his breath so well, as made thee force Which we of force must be content withal :" The less to speak; as b'ing ordain'd to spread
Thy self in action, rather than discourse. But that a speedy messenger was sent,
Though thou had'st made a general survey To show the duke of Clarence was hard by, Of all the best of men's best knowledges, And thereupon Warwick breaks off, and went And knew as much as ever learning knew; (With all his train attending formally)
Yet did it make thee trust thyself the less, To entertain him with fit compliment;
And less presume—And yet when being mov'd As glad of such an opportunity
In private talk to speak; thou did'st bewray To work upon, for those bigh purposes
How fully fraught thou wert within ; and prov'd, He had conceiv'd in discontentedness.
That thou did'st know whatever wit could say.
And mark'd them with that print, as will show how
The point of thy conceiving thoughts did stand :
That none would think, if all thy life had been UPON THE DEATH OF THE LATE NOBLE EARL OF
Turn'd into leisure, thou could'st have attain'd DEVONSHIRE.
So much of time, to have perus’d and seen
So many volumes that so much contain'd. Now that the hand of Death bath laid thee there, Which furniture may not be deem'd least rare, Where neither greatness, pomp, nor grace we see, Amongst those ornaments that sweetly dight Nor any diff'rences of earth; and where
Thy solitary Wansted'; where thy care
All things within their houses worth the sight;
In consort with thyself, in perfect tone, Where all attendance and observance ends; And never man bad heart more truly serv'd Where all the sunshine of our favour sets;
Under the regiment of his own care, Where what was ill no countenance defends, And was more at command, and more observ'd And what was good th' unthankful world forgets. The colours of that modesty he bare, Here shalt thou have the service of my pen;
Than that of thine; in whom men never found (The tongue of my best thoughts) and in this case That any show, or speech obscene, could tell I cannot be suppos'd to fatter, when
Of any vein thou had'st that was unsound, I speak bebind thy back, not to thy face.
Or motion of thy pow’rs that turn'd not well. Men never soothe the dead, but where they do And this was thy provision laid within : Find living ties to hold them thereunto.
Thus wert thou to thyself, and now remains; And I stand clear from any other chain [breath: What to the world thou outwardly hast been, Than of my love; which, free-born, draws free What the dimension of that side contains ; The benefit thou gav'st me, to sustain
Which likewise was so goodly and so large, My humble life, I lose it by thy death.
As shows that thou wert born t' adorn the days Nor was it such, as it could lay on me
Wherein thou liv'dst; and also to discharge Any exaction of respect so'strong,
Those parts which England's and thy fame should As t' enforce m'observance beyond thee,
raise. Or make my conscience differ from my tongue: " For I have learnt, it is the property For free men to speak truth, for slaves to lie.”
The library at, Wansted.
Although in peace thou seem'd'st to be all peace, And this important piece like t' have been rent
But shook : no ligament, no band
Loose and in tott'ring, when the charge
Chok'd by example, sought to put it off.
For him to undergo; see'ng such a one
As had more pow'r and means t accomplish it,
It had been wrought) did in itself bring forth That much concern'd her honour and her good; Discouragement, that he should do less good. And thence return'd thee to enjoy the bliss
The state reply'd, it was not look'd he should Of grace and favour in Eliza's sight,
Restore it wholly to itself again ;
But only now (if possible) he could
In any fashion but the same retain,
With courage on he goes; doth execute
With counsel; and returns with victory.
This action! with what wit and industry!
Is not to be disgrac'd in this small card:
It asks a spacious map of inore regard.
Fame never knew herself, till it was done;
To show how he (when dismal Winter storms)
Keeps peace, and makes Mars sheath his sword,
Nor how by mastring difficulties so,
In times unusual, and by passage bard,
He bravely came to disappoint his foe;
And many times surpris'd him upprepar'd.
That farnous siege, the master-work of all;
Where no distress nor difficulties lack'd
Tafflict his weary, tired camp withal:
That when enclos'd by pow'rful enemies
Intrench'd in mire, in cold, in miseries;
Kept waking with alarums night and day.
There were who did advise him to withdraw
“ For now the Spaniard hath possess'd three For such a piece of earth: and yet well paid,
“ And sooner fresh suppliments Spain transports
With some of them already, and doth stand
Here over us, with chiefest strength combin'd
Th' undaunted Montjoy hereto answers this:
“ My worthy friends, the charge of this great | That worthiness which merits to remain state
Among th' examples of integrity; And kingdom to my faith committed is,
Whereby themselves no doubt shall also gain And I must all I can ingeniate
A like regard unto their memory. To answer for the same, and render it
Now, muttring Envy, what can'st thou produce, Upon as fair a reck’ning as I may:
To darken the bright lustre of such parts? But if from hence I shall once stir my feet, Cast thy pure stone exempt from all abuse. The kingdom is undone, and lost this day. Say, what defects could weigh down these deserts : All will fly thither, where they find is Heart; Summon detraction, to object the worst And Fear shall have none stand to take his part. That may be told, and utter all it can:
“ And how shall we answer our country then, It cannot find a blemish to b' enforc'd At our return; nay, answer our own fame? Against him, other than he was a man ; Which howsoever we have done like men,
And built of flesh and blood, and did live here
But that his frailty ever did bewray
Will keep no note, nor memory will have
Which still will live; the rest lies in his grave. And for my part, I count the field to be
Seeing only such stand ever base and low, The honvurablest bed to die upon;
That strike the dead, or mutter under-hand : And here your eyes this day shall either see And as dogs bark at those they do not know, My body laid, or else this action done.
So they at such they do not understand. The Lord, the chief and sov'reign general
The worthier sort, who know we do not live Of hosts, makes weak to stand, the strong to fall.” With perfect men, will never be s unkind;
With which brave resolution he so warm'd They will the right to the deceased give, Their shaking courage, as they all in one
Knowing themselves must likewise leave behind Set to that noble work; which they perform'd Those that will censure them. And they know how As gallantly as ever men have done :
The lion being dead, ev’n hares insult: Of which 't is better nothing now to say,
And will not urge an imperfection now, Than say too little. For there rests behind When as he hath no party to consult, A trophy tbe erected, that will stay
Nor tongue nor advocate to show bis mind : To all posterities, and keep in mind
They rather will lament the loss they find, That glorious act, which did a kingdom save, By such a noble member of that worth, Kept the crown whole, and made the peace we have. And know how rare the world such men brings forth. And now I will omit to show, therefore,
But let it now sufficient be, that I His management of public bus'nesses;
The last scene of his act of life bewray,' Which oft are under Fortune's conduct, more Which gives th' applause to all, doth glorify Than ours: and tell his private carri'ges,
The work-for 't is the ev'ning crowns the day. Which on his own discretion did rely,
This action of our death especially Wherewith his spir't was furnish'd happily. Shows all a mani Here only he is found, Mild, affable, and easy of access
With what munition he did fortify He was; but with a due reservedness :
His heart; how good his furniture bath been. So that the passage to his favours lay
And this did he perform in gallaut wise: Not common to all comers; nor yet was
In this did be comfirm his worthiness. So narrow, but it gave a gentle way
For on the morrow after the surprise To such as fitly might, or ought to pass.
That sickness made on him with fierce access, Nor sold he smoke; nor took he up to day He told his faithful friend, whom he held dear, Commodities of men's attendances,
(And whose great worth was worthy so to be) And of their hopes; to pay them with delay, # How that he knew those hot diseases were And entertain them with fair promises.
Of that contagious force, as he did see
And therefore did desire to set a course
As might be, ere his sickness should grow worse. And with a quiet calm sincerity,
And as for death,” sajd he, “ I do not wey; H' effects his undertakings really.
I am resolv'd and ready in this case. His tongue and heart did not turn backs; but went It cannot come t' affright me any way, One way, and kept one course with what he meant. Let it look never with so grim a face: He us'd no mark at all, but ever ware
And I will meet it smiling; for I know His honest inclination open-fac'd:
How vain a thing all this world's glory is.” The friendships that he vow'd most constant were, And herein did he keep his word- Did show And with great judgment and discretion plac'd. Indeed, as he had promised in this.
And Devonshire, thy faith hath her reward; For sickness never heard him groan at all,
Which howsoever b’ing tyrannical,
A lovely count'nance of his being well,
What heretofore could never yet be wrought And so would ever make his tongue to tell. By all the swords of pow'r, by blood, by fire, Although the fervour of extremity,
By rain and destruction · here's brought to pass Which often doth throw those defences down, With peace, with love, with joy, desire: Which in our health wall in infirmity,
Our former blessed union bath begot Might open lay more than we would have known; A greater union that is more entire, Yet did no idle word in him bewray
And makes us more ourselves; sets us at one Any one piece of Nature ill set in;
With Nature, that ordain'd us to be one.
Glory of men! this hast thou brought to us, Such a sure lock of silent modesty
And yet hast brought us more than this by far: Was set in life upon that noble heart,
Religion comes with thee, peace, righteousness, As if no anguish nor extremity
Judgment, and justice; which more glorious are Could open it, t' impair that worthy part.
Than all thy kingdoms: and art more by this Por having dedicated still the same
Than lord and sor'reigo ; more than emperor Unto devotion, and to sacred skill;
Over the hearts of men, that let thee in That furnish perfect held ; that blessed Aame
To more than all the pow'rs on Earth can win. Continu'd to the last in fervour still.
God makes thee king of our estates; but we And when his spirit and tongue no longer could
Do make thee king of our affection,
King of our love: a passion born more free,
And most unsubject to dominion.
And know, that England, which in that degree Upon the merits of the precious death
Can love with such a true devotion Of his Redeemer; and with rapt desires
Those that are less than kings; to thee must bring Th' appeals to grace, his soul delivereth
More love, who art so much more than a king. Unto the hand of mercy, and expires. Thus did that worthy, who most virtuously And king of this great nation, populous, And mildly liv'd, most sweet and mildly die.
Stout, valiant, pow'rful both by sea and land; And thus, great patron of my Muse, have I
Attemptive, able, worthy, generous,
A people tractable, obsequious,
Apt to be fashion'd by thy glorious hand Something unto thy fortune, that thou hast
To any form of honour, t'any way
Of high attempts, thy virtues shall assay.
A people so inur'd to peace; so wrought
To a successive course of quietness, For honour never brought unworthiness
As they 've forgot (and O b'it still forgot!) Further than to the grave: and there it parts, The nature of their ancient stubbornness : And leaves men's greatness to forgetfulness, Time alter'd hath the form, the means, and brought And we do see that nettles, thistles, brakes, The state to that proportion'd evenness, (The poorest works of Nature) tread upon
As 't is not like again 't will ever come The proudest frames that man's invention makes, (Being us'd abroad) to draw the sword at home. To hold his memory when he is gone. But Devonshire, thou hast another tomb,
This people, this great state, these bearts adore Made by thy virtues in a safer room.
Thy sceptre now; and now tum all to thee, Touch'd with a pow'rful zeal, and if not more: (And yet O more how could there ever be,
Than unto her, whom yet we do deplore PANEGYRIC CONGRATULATORY,
Amidst our joy !) and give us leave, if we
Rejoice and mourn; that cannot, without wrong, DELIVERED TO THE KING'S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY, AT So soon forget her we enjoy'd so long.
BURLEIGH-HARRINGTON, IN RUTLANDSHIRE. Lo here the glory of a greater day,
Which likewise makes for thee, that yet we hold
True after death; and bring not this respect Than England ever heretofore could see In all her days! when she did most display
To a new prince, for hating of the old ;
Or from desire of change, or from neglect: The ensigns of her pow'r; or when as she
Whereby, O mighty sov'reign, thou art told, Did spread herself the most, and most did sway
What thou and thine are likely to expect
From such a faith, that doth not haste to run
Before their time to an arising sun. To be entire in her full orb till now. And now she is, and now in peace; therefore And let my humble Muse, whom she did grace, Shake hands with union, O thou mighty state! Beg this one grace for her that now lies dead; Now thou art all Great Britain, and no more ; That no vile tongue may spot her with disgrace, No Scot, no English now, por no debate :
Nor that her fame become disfigured: No borders, but the ocean and the shore;
O let her rest in peace, that rul'd in peace! No wall of Adrian serves to separate
Let not her honour be disquieted Our mutual love, nor our obedience;
Now after death ; but let the grave enclose B’ing sabjects all to one imperial prince.
All but her good, and that it cannot close