I do not forget the message, which you brought unto me on Thursday last; and because I have heard nothing from you since that time, I send this messenger on purpose to know what is resolved touching the house or houses where I must remain. There belong to the Archbishopric, three houses in Kent: one at Canterbury; another five miles beyond, called Foord; and a third, on the side of Canterbury, but two miles off, the name whereof is Beeksburn.

I pray your Lordship to let me know His Majesty's pleasure, whether he will leave the choice of any of those houses to reside in, to me?

I have reason to know the resolution thereof: because I must make my provision of wood and coals and hay for some definite place; and when I shall have brewed, it is fit I should know where to put it, or else it will not serve the turn. It is an unseasonable time to brew now, and as untimely to cut wood (it being green in the highest degree), and to make coals; without all which, my House cannot be kept. But when I shall know what must be my habitation, I will send down my servants presently [at once] to make the best provision they can.

And so, expecting your Lordship's answer, I leave you to the Almighty, and remain,

Your Lordship's very loving friend,

G. Cant.

Croydon, July 10, 1627.

He made my servant stay: and when he had gone up to know the King's pleasure, he returned me the answer following.

May it please your Grace,

I am ashamed, and do confess my fault, that I wrote not to your Grace before I received your reproof, though a gracious one; but, in truth, I did not neglect, nor forget; but the continual oppression of business would not permit me to advertise to your Grace, the King's Answer.

His Majesty heard seriously your professions and answers, and commanded me to signify unto you that "He knew not the present differences between you and the town [i.e., of Canterbury]; and if he had, he would not have cast you into that inconvenience." He was well pleased you should go to your house at Foord; and said, "He did not expect when the question was ended between your Grace and the town, that you should go to Canterbury."

And he further said, "He would not tie you to so short a time, as might be any way inconvenient; but doth expect that your Grace will govern it so, as His Majesty shall not need to warn you a second time."

I will not fail to move His Majesty to give you liberty to choose either of the houses you name, and give you knowledge of his pleasure, and in all things be ready to obey your commandments, or take occasion to serve you in the condition of

Your Grace's
Most humble servant,
Conway.

Whitehall, July 10, 1627.

I could not but observe therein that passage, that the King doth expect your Grace will so govern it, as His Majesty shall not need to warn you a second time.

I needed no interpreter to expound those words, and therefore did take order that one of my officers was presently despatched unto Foord, to see the house ready.


While necessaries were caring for, and I lay for some days at Croydon, and afterwards at Lambeth; the city of London was filled with the report of "my confining" (for so they did term it), and divers men spake diversely of it.


I will not trouble myself to mention some idle things; but some other of them require a little consideration. A main matter, that the Duke was said "to take in ill part," was the resort which was made to my house, at the times of dinner and supper, and that, oftentimes, of such as did not love him.

My answer unto that is, That, by nature, I have been given to keep a house according to my proportion, since I have had any means, and GOD hath blessed me in it. That it is a property, by Saint Paul required in a Bishop, that "He should be given to hospitality"; that it is another of his rules, "Let your conversation be without covetousness!" and those things, I had in mine eyes. Besides I have no wife, nor child: and as for my kindred, I do that for them which I hold fit; but I will not rob the Church, nor the poor, for them!

Again, it is so rare a fault in these things, that men not feeding on the King's meat, but of their own charge, should frankly entertain their friends when they come unto them; that I deserve to be pardoned for it!

But this is not all. When King James gave me the Bishopric, he did once between him and me, and another time before the Earl of Salisbury, charge me that "I should carry my house nobly!" that was His Majesty's word, "and live like an Archbishop!" which I promised him to do. And when men came to my house, who were of all Civil sorts, I gave them friendly entertainment: not sifting what exceptions the Duke made against them; for I knew he might as undeservedly think ill of others, as he did of me. But I meddled with no man's quarrels: and if I should have received none, but such as cordially, and in truth had loved him; I might have gone to dinner many times without company!

There, frequented me Lords Spiritual and Temporal, divers Privy Councillors, as occasion served, and men of the highest rank: where, if the Duke thought that we had busied ourselves about him, he was much deceived. Yet, perhaps the old saying is true, "A man who is guilty of one evil to himself; thinketh that all men that talk together, do say somewhat of him!" I do not envy him that happiness; but let it ever attend him!


As for other men, of good sort, but of lesser quality; I have heard some by name, to whom exception has been taken: and these are three. I know from the Court by a friend, that my house, for a good space of time, hath been watched; and I marvel that they have not rather named sixty, than three.

The First of these, is Sir Dudley Digges, a very great mote in the Duke's eye, as I am informed: for it is said that this Knight hath paid him in Parliament, with many sharp speeches. If this be so, yet what is that to me? He is of age to answer for himself!

But in the time of the late Parliament, when the Earl of Carlisle came unto me, and dealt with me thereabouts; I gave him my word, and I did it truly, that I was not acquainted with these things: only, being sick as I was, I had in general given him advice that he should do nothing that might give just offence to the King. And I have credibly heard that when Sir Dudley was last in the Fleet, committed from the Council table; he was much dealt with, to know whether he was not instigated by me to accuse the Duke in Parliament: the Knight, with all the protestations and assurances that could come from a Gentleman, acquitted me of the part and whole: wherein he did me but right.

And I do remember, when that man, now so hated! was a great servant of the Duke. So that if he have now left him, it cannot but be presumed that it is for some unworthy carriage, which the Gentleman conceiveth hath, by that Lord, been offered unto him.

Moreover, how can I but imagine the words and actions of Sir Dudley Digges have been ill interpreted and reported; when I myself saw the Duke stand up nine times in a morning, in a Parliament House, to fasten upon him words little less, if at all less than treason; when by the particular votes of all the Lords and Commons in both Houses, he was quit [acquitted] of those things, which the other would have enforced upon him. And a little while before, he was hastily clapped into the Tower; and within a day or two released again, because nothing was proved against him!

And I assure you, I am so little interested in his actions, that, to this day, I could never learn the reason why he was imprisoned in the Fleet; although he was kept there for seven or eight weeks.

I distinguish the King, from the Duke of Buckingham. The one is our Sovereign, by the laws of GOD and men! the other, a subject! as we are: and if any subject do impeach another, though of different degrees; let the party grieved, remedy himself by Law, and not by Power!

But, to speak further for this Knight, I may not forget that when he was publicly employed (one time to the Hague, a second time to Muscovia, and thirdly into Ireland about Affairs of the State), such opinions as were then held of his good endeavours.

As for my own part, ever since the days of Queen Elizabeth, I have been nearly acquainted with him. He was my pupil at Oxford, and a very towardly one; and this knowledge, each of the other, hath continued unto this time. He calleth me, Father; and I term his wife, my daughter. His eldest son is my godson; and their children are in love accounted my grandchildren.


The Second that I have heard named, was Sir Francis Harrington: a Gentleman, whom for divers years, I have not seen; and who, for ought I know, was never in my house but once in his life.

The Third was Sir Thomas Wentworth [who after Felton murdered Buckingham on the 23rd August, 1628, went over to the Court, and ultimately became Earl of Strafford]; who had good occasion to send unto me, and sometimes to see me; because we were joint executors to Sir George Savile, who married his sister, and was my pupil at Oxford. To whose son also, Sir Thomas Wentworth and I were Guardians, as may appear in the Court of Wards; and many things passed between us in that behalf: yet, to my remembrance, I saw not this gentleman but once, in these three-quarters of a year last past [i.e., since October, 1626]: at which time, he came to seek his brother-in-law, the Lord Clifford, who was then with me at dinner at Lambeth.


For one of the punishments laid upon me, it was told me by the Lord Conway, that "I must meddle no more with the High Commission." Accordingly, within a few days after, a Warrant is sent to the Attorney-General, that the Commission must be renewed, and the Archbishop must be left out. This, under hand, being buzzed about the town, with no small mixture of spite; I conceived it to be agreeable to [correspond with] the proceedings with [against] the Lords and Gentlemen, who refused to contribute to the Loan: they all being laid aside in the Commissions for Lieutenancy, and of the Peace, in their several counties.

For my part, I had no cause to grieve at this, since it was His Majesty's pleasure! but it was, by the actors therein understood otherwise; they supposing that this power gave me the more authority and splendour in the Church and Commonwealth.


To deliver therefore, truly, the state of this question. It cannot be denied but that it was a great point of policy for the establishing of order in the Ecclesiastical, and consequently Civil Estate also, to erect such a Court: whereby Churchmen [clergy] that exorbitated [exceeded bounds] in any grievous manner, might be castigated and rectified; and such sort of crimes in the laity might be censured [judged] as were of Ecclesiastical Cognisance. And, verily, this is of great use in the kingdom, as well for cherishing the study of the Civil Law, as otherwise; so that it be kept incorruptible, and with that integrity as so grave a Meeting and Assembly requireth. This was principally my care; who took much pains and spent much money that, in fair and commendable sort, justice was indifferently [impartially] administered to all the King's people that had to do with us.

But every one might see that this was to my singular trouble! For besides that to keep things in a straight course, sometimes in fits of the gout I was forced to be carried into the Court by my servants; where I could not speak much, but with difficulty: I was, at no time, free from petitions; from examinations; from signing of warrants to call some, to release others; from giving way to speeding, and forwarding Acts of Court. Suitors, as their fashion is, being so importunate as that, in summer and winter, in the day and in the night, in sickness and health, they would not be denied!

These things were daily despatched by me out of Duty; and more, out of Charity; no allowance of pay being from the King, or of fee from the subject to us that were the Judges. Nay, I may say more. The holding of that Court, in such sort as I did, was very expenseful to me, out of my private purse, in giving weekly entertainment to the Commissioners. The reason whereof was this. King James being desirous, when he made me Archbishop, that all matters should gravely and honourably be carried, directed me that I should always call some of the Bishops that were about London, and some Divines and Civilians [Doctors of the Civil Law], that, by a good presence, causes might be handled for the reputation of the action: and willed me withal, to imitate therein the Lord Archbishop Whitgift, who invited weekly some of the Judges to dinner, the rather to allure them thither. This advice proceeded from [John Bridgman] the Bishop of Durham that now is; which was not ill, if it came from a good intention.

I obeyed it, singly; and did that which was enjoined. But whereas in those times, the Commissioners were but few: since that time there hath been such an inundation of all sorts of men into that Company [i.e., the High Commission], that, without proportion, both Lords Spiritual and Temporal, Commissioners and not Commissioners, resorted thither; and divers of them brought so many of their men, that it was truly a burthen to me. I think it may, by my Officers, be justified upon oath, that since I was Archbishop, the thing alone hath cost me, out of my private estate [i.e., official income as Archbishop], one and a half thousand pounds; and if I did say two thousand pounds, it were not much amiss: besides all the trouble of my servants, who, neither directly nor indirectly, gained sixpence thereby in a whole year, but only travail and pains for their Master's honour; and of that, they had enough! my houses being like a great host[el]ry every Thursday in the Term; and for my expenses, no man giving me so much as thanks!

Now this being the true case, if the Church and Commonwealth be well provided for, in the administration of justice, and regard be had of the public [welfare]; can any discreet man think that the removing of me from this molestation, is any true punishment upon me? I being one that have framed myself to Reality, and not to Opinion: and growing more and more in years, and consequently into weakness; having before surfeited so long of worldly shews, whereof nothing is truly gained temporally but vexation of spirit, I have had enough of these things, and do not dote upon them. The world, I hope, hath found me more stayed and reserved in my courses.

Nevertheless, what was expedient for this, was despatched by me while I lived at Lambeth and Croydon; albeit I went not out of door.


"Yea, but you were otherwise inutile, not coming to the Star Chamber, nor to the Council table?"

My pain or weakness by the gout, must excuse me herein. When I was younger, and had my health, I so diligently attended at the Star Chamber, that, for full seven years, I was not one day wanting.

And for the Council table, the same reason of my indisposition may satisfy. But there are many other things that do speak for me.

The greatest matters there handled, were for money, or more attempts of war.

For the one of these, we of the Clergy had done our parts already: the Clergy having put themselves into payments of Subsidy, by an Act of Parliament; not only for these last two years (when the Temporalty lay in a sort dry), but yet there are three years behind, in which our payments run on, with weight enough unto us. And no man can justly doubt but my hand was in those grants, in a principal fashion.

And concerning the Provisions for War, I must confess my ignorance in the facts thereof. I knew not the grounds whereon the controversies were entered, in general. I thought that before wars were begun, there should be store of treasure; that it was not good to fall out with many great Princes at once; that the turning of our forces another way, must needs be some diminution from the King of Denmark; who was engaged by us into the quarrel for the Palatinate and Germany, and hazarded both his person and dominions in the prosecution of the question. These matters I thought upon, as one that had sometimes been acquainted with Councils; but I kept my thoughts unto myself.

Again, I was never sent for to the Council table but I went; saving one time, when I was so ill that I might not stir abroad.

Moreover, I was sure that there wanted no Councillors at the Board; the number being so much increased as it was.

Besides, I had no great encouragement to thrust my crazy body abroad; since I saw what little esteem was made of me, in those things which belonged to mine own occupation. With Bishoprics and Deaneries, or other Church places I was no more acquainted; than if I had dwelt at Venice, and understood of them but by some Gazette.

The Duke of Buckingham had the managing of these things, as it was generally conceived. For what was he not fit to determine in Church or Commonwealth, in Court or Council, in peace or war, at land or at sea, at home or in foreign parts?

Montague had put out [published] his Arminian book. I, three times, complained of it: but he was held up against me; and by the Duke magnified, as a well deserving man.

Cosens put out his treatise, which they commonly call The Seven Sacraments: which, in the first edition had many strange things in it, as it seemeth. I knew nothing of it, but as it pleased [John Bridgman] my Lord of Durham, and [William Laud] the Bishop of Bath, so the world did read.

We were wont, in the High Commission, to repress obstinate and busy Papists.

In the end of King James his time, a Letter was brought me, under the hand and signet of the King, that "We must not meddle with any such matter: nor exact the twelve pence for the Sunday, of those which came not to the Church (with which forfeit, we never meddled)." And this was told us to be, in contemplation of a marriage intended with the Lady Mary, the Daughter of France.

After the death of King James, such another Letter was brought from King Charles; and all execution against Papists was suspended.

But when the Term was at Reading, by open divulgation in all Courts under the Great Seal of England, we and all magistrates were set at liberty to do as it was prescribed by law. And our pursuivants must have their warrants again, and take all the priests they can; whereof Master Cross took fourteen or fifteen in a very short space.

Not long after, all these are set free! and Letters come from the King, under his royal signet, that "All warrants must be taken from our messengers, because they spoiled the Catholics, and carried themselves unorderly unto them, especially the Bishops' pursuivants:" whereas we had in all, but two; Cross, my messenger, for whom I did ever offer to be answerable; and Thomlinson, for whom my Lord of London, I think, would do as much. But the caterpillars, indeed, were the pursuivants used by the sectaries [Puritans]: men of no value, and shifters in the world; who had been punished and turned away by us, for great misdemeanours.

But truth of religion and GOD's service was wont to overrule human policies, and not to be overruled; and I am certain that things best prosper, where those courses are held. But be it what it may be, I could not tell what to make of this Variation of the Compass, since it was only commanded unto me, to put such and such things in execution: but I never understood anything of the counsel, whereby I might give my judgement how fit or unfit they were, or might speak to alter the tenour; whereunto, in former times, I had been otherwise used. Variety [diversity] of reasons breedeth variety of actions.


For the matter of the Loan, I knew not, a long time, what to make of it. I was not present when the advice was taken, I understood not what was the foundation whereupon the building was raised; neither did ever any of the Council acquaint me therewith.

I saw, on the one side, the King's necessity for money; and especially it being resolved that the war should be pursued. And, on the other side, I could not forget that in the Parliament, great sums were offered, if the Petitions of the Commons might be hearkened unto.

It still ran in my mind, that the old and usual way was best; that in kingdoms, the harmony was sweetest where the Prince and the people tuned well together; that, whatsoever pretence of greatness [he might have], he was but an unhappy man! that set the King and the Body of the Realm at division; that the people, though not fit to be too much cockered, yet are they that must pray! that must pay! that must fight for their Princes! that it could not be, but [that] a man so universally hated in the kingdom as the Duke was, must (for the preservation of himself) desperately adventure on anything! if he might be hearkened unto.

These meditations I had with myself, and, GOD knoweth! I frequently, in my prayers, did beg that he whom these things did most concern, would seriously think upon them.

It ran in my mind, that this new device for money could not long hold out! that then, we must return into the Highway, whither it were best, to retire ourselves betimes; the shortest errors being the best.

But these thoughts, I suppressed within my soul: neither did I ever discourage any man from lending, nor encourage any man to hold back; which I confidently avouch.

At the opening of the Commission for the Loan, I was sent for, from Croydon. It seemed to me a strange thing: but I was told there that "howsoever it shewed, the King would have it so; there was no speaking against it."

I had not heard [i.e., at any time before] that men, throughout the kingdom, should lend money against their will! I knew not what to make of it! But when I saw in the instructions that refusers should be sent away for soldiers to the King of Denmark; I began to remember Uriah, that was sent in the forefront of the battle: and, to speak truth, I durst not be tender in it.

And when, afterwards, I saw that men were to be put to their oath, "With whom they had had conference, and whether any did dissuade them?" and yet further beheld that divers were to be imprisoned; I thought this was somewhat a New World! yet, all this while, I swallowed my own spittle, and spake nothing of it to any man.

Nay, when after some trial in Middlesex; the first sitting was for Surrey, in my House [the Palace] at Lambeth; and the Lords were there assembled, with the Justices of the whole county: I gave them entertainment in no mean fashion.

And I sat with them, albeit I said nothing; for the confusion was such, that I knew not what to make of it. Things went on every day, and speech was of much money to be raised out of some counties, yet afterwards it was not so readily paid as preferred [? deferred]: and, at length, some refused, even in London itself, and Southwark; besides many gentlemen of special rank, and some Lords, as it was said. And though it was reported that "they were but a contemptible company!" yet the prisons in London demonstrated that they were not a very few, but persons both of note and number.

The Judges, besides, concurring another way, that "They could not allow the legality of the demand, and the enforcement that is used thereupon," did somewhat puzzle me, for being too busy in promoting of that for which I might, one day, suffer. Yet, hitherto, I remained silent; hoping that time would break that off which was almost come to an absolute period [full stop].


But instead of this, by the permission of GOD, I was called up to the King, to look clearly into the question. When the allowance of Sibthorp's pamphlet was put upon me, I had then some reason, out of the grounds of that sermon to fear (and I pray GOD that my fear was in vain!) that the Duke had a purpose to turn upside down the Laws, and the whole Fundamental Courses, and Liberties of the Subject: and to leave us, not under the Statutes and Customs which our progenitors enjoyed; but to the Pleasure of Princes, of whom, as some are gentle and benign, so some others, to ingreat themselves [make themselves greater], might strain more than the string will bear.

Besides, now it came in my heart, that I was present at the King's Coronation: where many things, on the Prince's part, were solemnly promised; which, being observed, would keep all in order, and the King should have a loving and faithful people, and the Commons should have a kind and gracious King.

The contemplations of these things made me stay my judgement, not any unwillingness to do my Prince any dutiful service: whom I must, and do honour above all the creatures in the world, and will adventure as far for his true good, as any one whatsoever.

But I am loath to plunge myself, so over head and ears, in these difficulties, that I can neither live with quietness of conscience, nor depart out of the world with good fame and estimation. And, perhaps, my Sovereign (if, hereafter, he looked well into this paradox) would, of all the world hate me! because one of my profession, age, and calling, would deceive him; and, with base flattery, swerve from the truth. The hearts of Kings are in the hands of GOD, and He can turn them as rivers of water.


I draw to a conclusion. Only repute it not amiss, because so much falleth in here, to observe a few words of the Duke of Buckingham—not as now he is, but as he was in his rising.

I say nothing of his being in France, because I was not present; and divers others there be, that remember it well: but I take him at his first repair to Court [in 1614].

King James, for many insolences, grew weary of Somerset: and the Kingdom groaning under the Triumvirate of Northampton, Suffolk, and Somerset (though Northampton soon after died [in June, 1614]) was glad to be rid of him.

We could have no way so good to effectuate that which was the common desire, as to bring in another in his room. "One nail," as the proverb is, "being to be driven out by another."

It was now observed that the King began to cast his eye upon George Villiers, who was then Cup-bearer, and seemed a modest and courteous youth. But King James had a fashion, that he would never admit any to nearness about himself, but such a one as the Queen should commend unto him, and make some suit on his behalf: that if the Queen, afterwards, being ill intreated, should complain of this "Dear One!"; he might make his answer, "It is 'long of yourself! for you were the party that commended him unto me!" Our old Master took delight strangely, in things of this nature.

That noble Queen, who now resteth in heaven, knew her husband well; and having been bitten with Favourites, both in England and Scotland, was very shy to adventure upon this request.

King James, in the meantime, more and more loathed Somerset; and did not much conceal it, that his affection increased towards the other.

But the Queen would not come to it; albeit divers Lords (whereof some are dead; and some, yet living) did earnestly solicit Her Majesty thereunto.

When it would not do; I was very much moved [i.e., desired by others] to put to, my helping hand: they knowing that Queen Anne was graciously pleased to give me more credit than ordinary; which, all her attendants knew, she continued to the time of her death.

I laboured much, but could not prevail. The Queen oft said to me, "My Lord! you and the rest of your friends know not what you do! I know your Master better than you all! For if this young man be once brought in, the first persons that he will plague, must be you that labour for him! Yea, I shall have my part also! The King will teach him to despise and hardly intreat us all; that he [Buckingham] may seem to beholden to none but himself."

Noble Queen! how like a Prophetess or Oracle did you speak!

Notwithstanding this, we were still instant, telling Her Majesty that "the change would be for the better! for George was of a good nature, which the other was not; and if he should degenerate, yet it would be a long time before he were able to attain to that height of evil, which the other had."

In the end, upon importunity, Queen Anne condescended [agreed to it]; and so pressed it with the King, that he assented thereunto: which was so stricken, while the iron was hot, that, in the Queen's Bedchamber, the King knighted him with a rapier which the Prince [Charles] did wear. And when the King gave order to swear him of the Bedchamber, Somerset (who was near) importuned the King with a message that he might be only sworn a Groom. But myself and others, that were at the door, sent to Her Majesty that "She would perfect her work, and cause him to be sworn a Gentleman of her Chamber!"

There is a Lord, or two, living that had a hand in this achievement. I diminish nothing of their praise for so happy a work: but I know my own part best; and, in the word of an honest man, I have reported nothing but truth.

George went in with the King; but no sooner he got loose, but he came forth unto me, in the Privy Gallery, and there embraced me. He professed that "He was so infinitely bound unto me that, all his life long, he must honour me as his father." And now, he did beseech me, that I would give him some Lessons how he should carry himself.

When he had earnestly followed this chase, I told him, I would give him three short lessons, if he would learn them.

The First was, That, daily, upon his knees, he should pray to GOD to bless the King his Master, and to give him (George) grace studiously to serve and please him.

The Second was, That he should do all good offices between the King and the Queen; and between the King and the Prince.

The Third was, That he should fill his Master's ears with nothing but truth.

I made him repeat these three things unto me: and then I would have him, to acquaint the King with them! and so tell me, when I met him again, what the King said unto him.

He promised he would. And the morrow after, Master Thomas Murray (the Prince's Tutor) and I standing together, in the gallery at Whitehall, Sir George Villiers coming forth, and drawing to us, he told Master Murray how much he was beholden unto me, and that I had given him certain instructions: which I prayed him to rehearse: as, indifferently well he did, before us. Yea, and that he had acquainted the King with them; who said, "They were instructions worthy of an Archbishop, to give to a young man."

His countenance of thankfulness continued for a few days, but not long! either to me or any others, his well wishers. The Roman historian, Tacitus, hath somewhere a note that "Benefits, while they may be requited, seem courtesies; but when they are so high, that they cannot be repaid, they prove matters of hatred."


Thus, to lie by me, to quicken my remembrance, I have laid down the Cause and the Proceedings of my sending [being sent] into Kent; where I remain at the writing of this Treatise. Praying GOD, to bless and guide our King aright! to continue the prosperity and welfare of this Kingdom, which, at this time, is shrewdly shaken! to send good and worthy men to be Governors [i.e., Bishops] of our Church! to prosper my mind and body, that I may do nothing that may give a wound to my conscience! and then, to send me patience quietly to endure whatsoever His Divine Majesty shall be pleased to lay upon me! Da quod jubes, et jube quod vis! and, in the end, to give me such a happy deliverance, either in life or death, as may be most for His glory; and for the wholesome example of others! who look much on the actions and passions of Men of my Place.


Ben Jonson.
Answer to Master Wither's Song,
Shall I, wasting in despair.

[Which Song originally appeared in the privately printed edition of Fidelia, in 1617; and was incorporated, with some variations in the text, in Fair Virtue in 1622, as may be seen at p. 454. Jonson's Parody was printed in a very rare Collection, entitled A Description of Love: with certain Epigrams, Elegies, and Sonnets, &c., the Second Edition of which was printed in 1620. We have here used a copy of the Sixth Edition of 1629, in the British Museum; press mark, C. 39. a.]

Wither.

Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die, because a woman's Fair?
Or my cheeks make pale with care,
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be She fairer than the Day,
Or the flowery meads in May!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Fair She be?

Jonson.

Shall I, mine affections slack,
'Cause I see a woman's Black?
Or myself, with care cast down,
'Cause I see a woman brown?
Be She blacker than the night,
Or the blackest jet in sight!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Black She be?

Wither.

Should my foolish heart be pined,
'Cause I see a woman Kind?
Or a well disposèd nature
Joinèd with a comely feature?
Be She kind, or meeker than
Turtle dove, or pelican!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Fair She be?

Jonson.

Shall my foolish heart be burst,
'Cause I see a woman's curst?
Or a thwarting hoggish nature
Joinèd in as bad a feature?
Be She curst, or fiercer than
Brutish beast, or savage man!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Curst She be?

Wither.

Shall a woman's virtues make
Me to perish for her sake?
Or her merits' value known,
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be She with that Goodness blest
Which may merit name of Best!
If She seem not so to me,
What care I, how Good She be?

Jonson.

Shall a woman's vices make
Me her vices quite forsake?
Or her faults to me make known,
Make me think that I have none?
Be She of the most accurst,
And deserve the name of worst!
If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Bad She be?

Wither.

'Cause her fortunes seem too high,
Should I play the fool, and die?
He that bears a noble mind,
If not outward help he find;
Think, what, with them, he would do;
That, without them, dares to woo!
And unless that mind I see,
What care I, how Great She be?

Jonson.

'Cause her fortunes seem too low,
Shall I therefore let her go?
He that bears an humble mind
And with riches can be kind.
Think how kind a heart he'd have,
If he were some servile slave!
And if that same mind I see,
What care I, how Poor She be?

Wither.

Great, or Good, or Kind, or Fair,
I will ne'er the more despair!
If She love me (then believe!)
I will die, ere She shall grieve!
If She slight me, when I woo;
I can scorn, and let her go!
For if She be not for me!
What care I, for whom She be?

Jonson.

Poor, or Bad, or Curst, or Black,
I will ne'er the more be slack!
If she hate me (then believe!)
She shall die, ere I will grieve!
If She like me, when I woo;
I can like and love her too!
If that She be fit for me!
What care I, what others be?


THE
FAMOUS AND
Wonderful Recovery
of a Ship of Bristol, called the
Exchange, from the Turkish
Pirates of Argier.

WITH THE UNMATCHABLE
attempts and good success of John Rawlins, Pilot in
her, and other slaves: who, in the end (with the
slaughter of about forty of the Turks and Moors),
brought the ship into Plymouth, the 13th of
February [1622] last, with the Captain
a Renegado, and five Turks more;
besides the redemption of twenty-four
men and one boy from
Turkish slavery.

LONDON:
Printed for Nathaniel Butter, dwelling at the Pied Bull, at Saint Austen's Gate.
1622.

[This Narrative, which is reprinted from a very rare copy of the original edition in the Bodleian Library, was not written by Rawlins; but the unknown illustrator, or cementer of "the broken pieces of well-tempered mortar," so describing himself at p. 607, who put the information supplied by the brave Pilot, into its present shape.]