; course of Abraham's strange voiage, tations, fears, wonders. The matter in Jiii. Baptistes. The Scene, the Court. Beginning, From the morning of Hero'ds birth day. In the mar gin of the MS. Ore's the queen Herod, by some counsel er persuaded on his birthmay plot, under day to release John Bappra 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 his freedom of hears of it, takes occa speech. sion to passe wher he is, on purpose, that, under prætense of reconsiling to him, or seeking to draw a kind retractation from him of the censure on the marriage; to which end she sends a courtier before, to sound whether he might be persuaded to mitigate his sentence; which not finding, she herself craftily assays; and on his constancie, founds an accusation to Herod of a contumacious afiront, on such a day, before many peers; præpares the king to soine passion, and at last by her daughter's dancing, effects it. There may prologize the spirit of Philip, Herod's brother. It may also be thought that Herod had well bedew'd himself with wine, which made him grant the easier to his wive's daughter. 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 mais.ter. liv. 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 choysest 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; in fine, offer violence. The Chorus of shepheards præpare resistance in the master's defence; calling the rest of the serviture: but, being forc't to gire back, the angels open the dore, rescue Lot, discover themselves, wame hira to gether his friends and sons in law out of the city. He goes, and returns; as haring 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 disputed of incredulity of divine judge, ments, and such like inatters. At last is described the parting fre the citty. The Chorus depart with ther maister. The angels doe the deed with all dreadful execution. The king nobles of the citty may come forth and serve to set out the terror. A Che rus of angels concluding, and the angels relating the event of Lot's jour ney, and of his wife. The first Chorus, beginning, mayr late the course of the citty; each ereing every one, with mistresse or Gasmed, gitterning along the streets, of lacing on the banks of Jordan, or don the stream. At the priests' inviting the angels the solemnity, the angels, pittying beauty, may dispute of love, and be differs from lust; seeking to winter In the last scene, to the king nobles, when the fierce thunder beg aloft, the angel appeares all girt w flames, which, he saith, are the tas of true love, and tells the king, falls down with terrour, his just suffer as also Athane's, that is, Gener, Lot's in law, for despising the continual admonitions of Lot. Then, calling to the thunders, lightning, and fires, he bids them heare the call and command of God, to come and destroy a godlesse nation. He brings them down with some short waruing to other nations to take heed. Iv. Moabitides, or Phineas. The epitasis whereof may lie in the contention, first, between the father of Zimri and Eleazer, whether he [ought] to have slain his son without law? Next, the ambassadors of the Moabites, expostulating about Cosbi, a stranger and a noble woman, slain by Phineas. It may be argued about reformation and punishment illegal, and, as it were, by tumult. After all arguments driven home, then the word of the Lord may be brought, acquitting and approving Phineas. Ivi. Christus Patiens. The Scene, in the garden. Beginning, from the comming thither, till Judas betraies, and the officers lead him away. The rest by Message and Chorus. His agony may receav noble expressions. vii. Christ born. liii. Herod massacring, or Rachel weeping. Matt. ii. Ixix. Christ bound. Ix. Christ crucifi'd. Ixi. Christ risen. lxii. Lazarus. John, xi. BRITISH TRAGEDIES Ixiii. The cloister-king Constans set up by Vortiger. Venutius, husband to Cartismandua. Ixiv. Vortiger poison'd by Roena. lxv. Vortiger immur'd. Vortiger marrying Roena. See Speed. Reproov'd by Vodin, archbishop of London. Speed. The massacre of the Britains by Hengist in thire cups at Salisbury plaine. Malmsbury. lxvi. Sigher, of the East-Saxons, revolted from the faith, and reclaimed by Jarumang. Ixvii. Ethelbert, of the East-Angles, slain by Offa the Mercian. See Holinsh. L. vi. C. v. Speed, in the life of Offa, and Ethelbert. Ixviii. Sebert slaine by Penda, after he had left his kingdom. See Holinshed, p. 116. Ixix. Wulfer slaying his tow sons for beeing Christians. lxx. 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, martyr'd by Hinguar the Dane. See Speed, L. viii, C. ii. lxxii. Sigbert, tyrant of the West-Saxons, slaine by a swinheard. Ixxiii. 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; toge ther [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. Ixxvii. 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 ke by Austine the monke; because the Britains would not receave the rites of the Roman church. See Bede, Geffrey Monmouth, and Holinshed, p. 104. Which must begin with the convocation of British Clergie by Austin to determine superfluous points, which by them were refused. 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. Ixxx. 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. lxxxiii. 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 Normon. The first scene may begin xcii. Edmund Ironside murder'd by Edrick the nute. xciv. Hardiknute dying in his cups: an example to riot. xcv. Edward the Confessor's divorsing and imprisoning 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 BRI- The 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. 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 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 Ireland. 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,. Noverca nulla sævior Erebo furit ; Nativa suavitas, proba elegantia, &c." countrymen, renew'd the battell, and He also appears with credit in the Cambridge Public Verses of his time. He has a copy of Latin iambics, in the Anthologia on the King's Recovery, Cantab. 1632. 4to. p. 43. Of Latin elegiacs, in the Genethliacum Acad. Cantabrig. Ibid. 1631. 4to. p. 39. Of Latin iambics in Rex Redux, Ibid. 1633. 4to. p. 14. See also MYNAIA, from Cambridge, Ibid. 1637. 4to. Signat. C. 3.] YET Once more, O ye laurels, and once more Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year: Begin then, Sisters of the sacred well, That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring; 10 With lucky words favour my destin'd urn; 30 And, as he passes, turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. 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, Now thou art gone, and never must return! Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'er 60 What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, 71 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise Phoebus replied, and touch'd my trembling ears; Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies: 81 Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed.". And listens to the herald of the sea 90 He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the felon winds, And sage Hippotades their answer brings, 100 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, [pledge?" The pilot of the Galilean lake; Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, 110 (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 swain, 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 130 Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine, 150 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; 160 [more, 169 Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, 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 waves; Where, other groves and other streams along, Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and Smooth is then altered to fam'd, and next to nour'd: And soft-sliding to smooth-sliding. Ver. 105. Scraul'd ore with figures dim. Inwrought is in the margin. Ver. 129. Daily devours apace, and little sed. Ver. 138. On whose fresh lap the swart star stint ly looks. At first sparely, as at present. Ver. 139. Bring hither, &c, Ver. 142. Bring the rathe primrose that unwed ded dies, Colouring the pale cheek of uninjoy'd love; Next, adde Narcissus t'at still weeps in The woodbine, and the pancie freak't with jet, The glowing violet, The cowslip wan that hangs his pensive head, And every bud that sorrow's liverie weares; Let daffadillies fill their cupswith teares, Bid amaranthus all his beautie shed. Here also the well-attir'd woodbine appears as at |