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course of Abraham's strange voiage, thire mistresse sorrow and perplexity, accompanied with frightfull dreams; and tell the manner of his rising by night, taking his servants and his son with him. Next may come forth Sarah herself. After the Chorus, or Ismael, or Agar. Next some shepheard or companie of merchants, passing through the mount in the time that Abram was in the mid-work, relate to Sarah what they saw. Hence lamentations, fears, wonders. The matter in the mean while divulg'd, Aner, or Eschol, or Mamre, Abram's confederats, come to the house of Abram to be more certaine, or to bring news; in the mean while discoursing, as the world would, of such an action, divers ways; bewayling the fate of so noble a man faln from his reputation, either through divin justice or superstition, or coveting to doe some notable act through zeal. At length a servant, sent from Abram, relates the truth; and last he himselfe comes in with a great traine of Melchizedec's, whose shepheards, beeing secretlye witnesses of all passages, had related to their master, and he conducted his friend Abraham home with joy.
Jiii. Baptistes. The Scene, the Court.
Beginning, From the morning of Hero'ds birth day.
In the mar
Herod, by some counselgin of the MS. er persuaded on his birthmay plot, under day to release John Bappræ.enseofbegging for his - tist, purposes it, causes berty, to seek him to be sent for to court
to draw him in
to a snare by from prison. The queen
Some of his disciples also, as to congratulate his liberty, may be brought in; with whom, after certain command of his death, many compassionating words of his disciples, bewayling his youth cut off in his glorious cours; he telling them his work is don, and wishing them to follow Christ his maister.
lis. Sodom. The title, Cupid's funeral pile:
Sodom burning. The Scene before Lot's gate.
The Chorus, consisting of Lot's shepherds come to the citty about some affairs, await in the evening thire maister's return from his evening walk toward the citty gates. He brings with him two young men, or youths, of noble form. After likely discourses, præpares for thire entertainment. By then supper is ended, the gallantry of the towne passe by in procession, with music and song, to the temple of Venus Urania or Peor; and, understanding of tow noble strangers arriv'd, they send 2 of thire choy sest youth, with the priest, to invite them to thire citty solemnities; it beeing an honour that thire citty had decreed to all fair personages, as beeing sacred to their goddess. The angels being ask't by the priest whence they are, say they are of Salem; the priest inveighs against the strict reign of Melchisedec.
Lot, that knows thire drift, answers thwartly at last. Of which notice given to the whole assembly, they hasten thither, taxe him of præsumption, singularity, breach of city-customs; fine, offer violence. The Chorus of shepheards præpare resistance in thire maister's defence; calling the rest of the serviture: but, being forc't to give back, the angels open the dore, rescue Lot, discover themselves, ware him to gether his friends and sons in law out of the city.
He goes, and returns; as having met with some incredulous. Some other freind or son in law (out of the way when Lot came to his house) overtakes him to know his buisnes. Heer is disputed of incredulity of divine judgements, and such like inatters.
At last is described the parting from the citty. The Chorus depart with their maister. The angels doe the deed with all dreadful execution. The king and nobles of the citty may come forth, and serve to set out the terror. A Chorus of angels concluding, and the angels relating the event of Lot's journey, and of his wife.
The first Chorus, beginning, may relate the course of the citty; each evening every one, with mistresse or Gany med, gitterning along the streets, or solacing on the banks of Jordan, or down the stream.
At the priests' inviting the angels to the solemnity, the angels, pittying ther beauty, may dispute of love, and how it differs from lust; seeking to win them.
In the last scene, to the king and nobles, when the fierce thunder begins aloft, the angel appeares all girt with flames, which, he saith, are the flames of true love, and tells the king, who falls down with terrour, his just suffering, as also Athane's, that is, Gener, Lot's s
marlyr'd by Hinguar the Dane. See Speed, L. viii, C. ii.
Sigbert, tyrant of the West-Saxons, slaine by a swinheard.
Edmund, brother of Athelstan, slaine by a theefe at his owne table. Malmesb. Irxiv. Edwin, son to Edward the younger, for lust depriv'd of his kingdom, or rather by faction of monks, whome he hated; together [with] the impostor Dunstan. lxxv. Edward, son of Edgar, murder'd by his step-mother. To which may be inserted the tragedies stirr'd up betwixt the monks and priests about mariage. lxxvi. Etheldred, son of Edgar, a slothful king; the ruin of his land by the Danes. lxxvii. Ceaulin, king of the West-Saxons, for tyrannie depos'd and banish't; and dying.
lxxviii. The slaughter of the monks of Bangor
by Edelfride, stirr'd up, as is said, by Ethelbert, and he by Austine the monke; because the Britains would not receave the rites of the Roman church. See Bede, Geffrey Monmouth, and Holinsbed, p. 104. Which must begin with the convocation of British Clergie by Austin to determine superfluous points, which by them were refused.
Ixx. Osbert, of Northumberland, slain for ravishing the wife of Bernbocard, and the Danes brought in. See Stow, Holinsh, L. vi. C. xii. And especially Speed, L. viii. C. ii.
Ixxi, Edmund, last king of the East-Angles,
lxxix. Edwin, by vision, promis'd the kingdom of Northumberland on promise of his conversion; and therein establish't by Rodoald, king of [the] East-Angles.
lxxx. Oswin, king of Deira, slaine by Oswie his friend, king of Bernitia, through instigation of flatterers. See Holinsh. p. 115.
lxxxi. Sigibert, of the East-Angles, keeping companie with a person excommunicated, slaine by the same man in his house, according as the bishop Cedda had foretold.
lxxxii, Egfride, king of the Northumbers, slaine in battle against the Picts; having before wasted Ireland, and made warre for no reason on men that ever lov'd the English; forewarn'd alo by Cuthbert not to fight with the Ficts. Ixxxiii. Kinewulf, king of the West-Saxons, slaine by Kineard in the house of one of his concubins.
lxxxiv. Gunthildis, the Danish ladie, with her husband Palingus, and her son, slaine by the appointment of the traitor Edrick, in king Ethelred's days. Holinsh. L. vii. C. v. together with the massacre of the Danes at Oxford. Speed. lxxxv. Brightrick, [king] of [the] West-Saxons, poyson'd by his wife Ethelburge, Offa's daughter; who dyes miserably also, in beggery, after adultery, in a nunnery. Speed in Bithrick.
lxxxvi. Alfred, in disguise of a minstrel, discovers
the Danes' negligence; sets on [them] with a mightie slaughter. About the same tyme the Devonshire men rout Hubba, and slay him. Ixxxvii. Athelstan exposing his brother Edwin to the sea, and repenting.
lxxxviii. Edgar slaying Ethelwold for false play in wooing. Wherein may be set out his pride, and lust, which he thought to close by favouring monks and building monasteries. Also the disposition of woman in Elfrida towards her husband. [Peck proposes, and justly, I think, to read cloke instead of close.] Ixxxix. Swane beseidging London, and Ethelred repuls't by the Londoners.
xc. Harold slaine in battel, by William the
xcii. Edmund Ironside murder'd by Edrick the traitor, and reveng'd by Canute. xciii. Gunilda, daughter to king Canute and Emma, wife to Henry III. emperour, accus'd of inchastitie; defended by her English page in combat against a giantlike adversary; who by him at two blows is slaine, &c. Speed in the life of Ca
xciv. Hardiknute dying in his cups: an example to riot.
xcv. Edward the Confessor's divorsing and im
prisoning his noble wife Editha, Godwin's daughter. Wherin is showed his over-affection to strangers, the cause of Godwin's insurrection. Wherein Godwin's forbearance of battel, prais'd; and the English moderation on both sides, magnifi'd. His [Edward's] slacknesse to redresse the corrupt clergie, and superstitious prætence of chastitie.
SCOTCH STORIES, OR RATHER BRITISH OF THE NORTH PARTS.
xcvi. Athirco slain by Natholochus, whose daughters he had ravish't; and this Natholocus, usurping thereon the kingdom, seeks to slay the kindred of Athirco, who scape him and conspire against him. He sends a witch to know the event. The witch tells the messenger, that he is the man, that shall slay Natholocus. He detests it; but, in his journie home, changes his mind, and performs it. Scotch Chron. English. p. 68, 69. xcvii. Luffe and Donwald. A strange story of witchcraft and murder discover'd and reveng'd. Scotch story, 149 &c. xcviii. Haie, the plowman, who, with his two sons that were at plow, running to the battell that was between the Scots and Danes in the next field, staid the flight of his countrymen, renew'd the battell, and
In this MONODY, the author bewails a learned friend, unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester on the Irish seas, 1637. And by occasion foretells the ruin of our corrupted clergy, then in their height. [Edward King, the subject of this Monody, was the son of sir John King, knight, secretary for Ireland, under queen Elizabeth, James the first, and Charles the first. He was sailing from Chester to Ireland, on a visit to his friends and relations in that country: these were, his brother sir Robert King, knight; and his sisters, Anne wife of sir George Caulfield lord Claremont, and Margaret, abovementioned, wife of sir George Loder, chief justice of Ireland; Edward King bishop of Elphin, by whom he was baptized; and William Chappel, then dean of Cashel, and provost of Dublin college, who had been his tutor at Christ's college Cambridge, and was afterwards bishop of Cork and Ross, and in this pastoral is probably the same person that is styled old Damoetas, v. 36. When, in calm weather, not far from the English coast, the ship, a very crazy vessel, a fatal and perfidious bark, struck on a rock, and suddenly sunk to the bottom with all that were on board, not one escaping, Aug. 10, 1637. King was now only twentyfive years old. He was perhaps a native of Ire
At Cambridge, he was distinguished for his piety, and proficiency in polite literature. He has no inelegant copy of Latin iambics prefixed to a Latin comedy called Senile Odium, acted at Queen's college, Cambridge, by the youth of that society, and written by P. Hausted, Cantab. 1633. 12mo. From which I select these lines, as containing a judicious satire on the false taste, and the customary mechanical or unnatural expedients, of the drama that then subsisted.
Non hic cothurni sanguine insonti rubent,
He also appears with credit in the Cambridge
Public Verses of his time. He has a copy of
YET once more, O ye laurels, and once more
What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore,
Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well,
With lucky words favour my destin'd urn;
Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears;
Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies:
And listens to the herald of the sea
He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds,
And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
Alas! what boots it with incessant care
For we were nurs'd upon the self-same hill,
Mean while the rural ditties were not mute,
Rough Satyrs danc'd, and Fauns with cloven heel
But, O the heavy change, now thou art gone,
The willows, and the hazel copses green,
Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorse-
Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas?
Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscrib'd with woe. "Ah! who hath reft "(quoth he)" my dearest Last came, and last did go, The pilot of the Galilean lake; Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,) He shook his miter'd locks, and stern bespake: "How well could I have spar'd for thee young
Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake
A sheep-hook, or have learn'd aught else the least
And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs
Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread :
Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise;
Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, [more, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, Through the dear might of him that walk'd the
Where, other groves and other streams along,
Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and