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* But I must over-go these passages,

“ How their high favours like as fig-trees are, And hasten on my way to overtake

That grow upon the sides of rocks; where they Mine ends, in sad and graver bus’nesses ;

Who reach their fruit, adventure must so far, Whereof I shall to you relation make.

As t' bazard their deep downfall and decay. And yet my zeal here forc'd me thus t' express Their grace not fix'd; but as a blazing star, - Elizabeth, for our Eliza's sake ;

Burns out the present matter, and away: Who grac'd the Muses, (which her times became): And how the world could too well witness bear,

“For they who give then comfort, must have fame.” That both their loves and hates like dang'rous were.” 23. And I must tell you now, when this great fight Thus he complains, and makes his home-retire ; Prix Of counter-passions bad been throughly try'd, All disappointed of his purposes. How in the end the victory did light

For hoping by this match to hold entire Upon Love's forces, as the stronger side ;

That lady, with her great alliances; And beat down those respects of benefit,

And have the king more firm to his desire, Of honour, greatness, strength, and all beside ; By managing of both their bus'nesses: And never granted rest nnto his strife,

He by this match (thus made without his mean) Till marriage rites had her confirm'd his wife. Comes barr’s from all those tying int'rests clean.

Which that place where he saw her first, saw done, Por well he knew that all his service past - Ere he remov'd bis foot-“For Love is still Was past; and would not be a future tie, toia In baste ; and (as a lord that rules alone)

To hold him in, unless that he could cast ***** Admits no counsellor in good nor ill.

To introduce some mere necessity
9. Por he and kings gladly give ear to none, Of his employment, that were like to last,

But such as smooth their ways, and sooth their will. And shut out all other concurrency:
And who will not desire to give his voice,

Without which nor his greatness, nor his wits, (Be what it will) to praise a prince's choice? Could ward him from the king's unconstant fits. " Which was (indeed) in virtue, beauty, grace,

Which more perplex'd him, and in nearer sort, And (all but fortune) worthy of his bed ;

Than what France might by his embassage guess, And in that too, had he but liv'd the space,

Or England deem. But being arriv'd at court, T have seen her plenteous issue fully bred ; He draws a traverse 'twixt his grievances : That they might have collated strength and grace, Looks like the time-bis eye made not report On her weak side: which (scorn'd and maliced) Of what he felt within. Nor was he less Lay open undefenc'd, apt to b’undone

Than usually he was in ev'ry part; By proud usurping pow'r, when he was gore." Wore a clear face upon a cloudy heart. But now when fame of this home-chosen match Congratulates the queen-Commends the king Arriv'd in France, (for there it did arrive,

For his rare choice. Protesting her to be Ere they could bere attend to make dispatch Par beyond all the world beside could bring in Timpart the same to Warwick, or contrive To fit his liking: and that he did see a ke Some colour that in any sort might fetch The lady Bona was a peevish thing, dett a Him fairly off, and no dishonour give)

Sullen and proud; and would ia no degree
main It so much stirr'd the humours in those parts, Have pleas'd his humour, or in any sort
di bat As marr'd the whole complexion of their hearts. Have satisfy'd the ladies of this court,

pa'dan The French king scorns such an indignity: And after having finish'd all the rite
! tu kyns Warwick disdains employment in this case. Of compliment and intervisiting,
Har

The queen enrag'd, with extreme veh'mency He humbly craves dismission, that he might 10 DE Storms at her sister's and her own disgrace. Retire a while, t'attend the managing vise, nu The lady Bona takes most tenderly,

And setting of his country bus'ness right, bet pus To be so mock'd with hope of such a place. Whereby the better to attend the king, basse 3 And all blame Warwick, and his fraud condemn;

From whom be parts: and never seem'd more dear, 1, & Whilst he himself deceiv'd, suffers with them : More grac'd, nor yet himself of free'r cheer. be, s a And could not, by all means might be devis'd, First Warwick castle (that had seldom known - Untaste them of this violent disgust;

The master there) he visits; and from thence s' votes But that they still beld something lay disguis'd Goes t'other goodly manors of his own: Las Under this treaty. So that now he must

Where seen with joy, with love, with reverence; sited Bring home his reputation cauteris'd

(King of himself) be finds that there is shown an ihes fers With the idle mark of serving others' lust

The use of life, the true magnificence, is dones In frivolous employments; or be sent

T' enjoy his greatness: which at court in vain Fit pas Out of the way, to colour some intent.

Men toil for, and yet never do attain. " Which, to himself, made him with grief inveigh which his religious confessor (who best er erozen Against distemper'd kings ; who often are Could cast, with what a violent access

Ill warrants for their own affairs; and weigh This fever of ambition did molest

Their lasts more than their dignity by far: His still-sick mind) takes hold on, to address tist kerr And what a misery they bave, that sway

(Upon th' advantage of this little rest) Their great designs; what danger, and what care; Some lenitives, tallay the fi’riness And often must be forc'd (being at their becks) Of this disease; which (as a malady, To crack their reputation, or their necks.

Seiz'd in the spir'ts) hath seldom remedy,

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And thus sets on him" See, my lord, how here Thus the good fatker, with an humble thought,
Th' eternal providence of God hath brought (Bred in a cellulary low retire)
You to the shore of safety, (out of fear)

According to his quiet humour, soaght
From all the waves of misery, that wrought T'avert him from his turbulent desire;
To overwhelm yon; and hath set you clear, When the great earl began-“ Father, I note
Where you would be; with having(which you sought What you with zeal advise, with love require;
Through all these hazards of distress) a king And I must thank you for this care you have,
Of your own making and establishing.

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 bardh 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 spbere, (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 hare 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) compe And with the fetters of respect still ty'd;

And then we lords in such case erer 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 incombranca:
That do besiege men's states, and still are press'd 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 spirit, (which graceth mapliness) Men seem as if for stratagems address’d:

And makes us still false images adore :
Where Fortune, as the wolf, doth still prefer Besides profusion of our faculties,
The foulest of the train that follows her.

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: Where both th' engagement of your own intents, I rather would my state were out of frame, And other reck’nings and accounts, shall lay Than my renown should come to get a fall. Such weights upon you, as you shall not part, No! no! th’ungrateful boy shall never think, Unless you break your credit, or your heart. That I, who him enlarg'd to pow'r, will shrink. “ Besides, as exiles ever from your homes, " What is our life without our dignity? You live perpetual in disturbancy;

Which oft we see comes less by living long. Contending, thrusting, shuffling for your rooms Whocver was there worth the memory, Of ease or honour, with impatiency;

And eminent indeed, but still dy'd young? Building your fortunes upon others' tombs, As if Worth had agreed with Destiny, (From Por other than your own posterity.

That Time, which rights them, should not do tha 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, coller Yourself from out these streights of misery. The same on mime, and those to mine ally'd: Hold your estate and life as things more dear, Although I know she serves the present state, Tian to be thrown at an uncertainty.

And can undo again what she hath ty'd. 'T is time that you and England have a calm; But that we leave to him, who points out beirs; And time the olive stood above the palm.”

And howsoever yet the world is theirs.

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, tosz Where they must work it out; as born to run And therefore I sincerely will report, iaları ia o ose fortunes, which as mighty families

First bow thy parts were fair convey'd within; is gaiet hus ever they could be) before have done.

How that brave mind was built, and in what sort "zan be tute or shall they gain by mine indignities,

All thy contexture of thy heart hath been: I earl beneho may without my courses be undone.

Which was so nobly fram'd, so well composid, zeal atre, tad whoso makes his state and life his ties

As Virtue hever had a fairer seat, reg lar sos do unwortbily, is born a slave;

Nor could be better lodg’d, nor more repos’d, pod adsenserad 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; ther, cedere would the rev'rend father have reply'd, Where passion did no sudden tumults raise, reati sad bw: That it were far more magnanimity,

That might disturb her-Nor was ever breast Dich e pe' endure, than to resist—That we are ty'd Contain'd so much, and made so little noise: res and abiems well to bear the inconveniency

That by thy silent modesty is found, Dy pala od strains of kings and states; as to abide

The empti'st vessels make the greatest sound. if puede tentimely rains, tempests, sterility,

For thou so well discern'd'st thyself, had'st read nd other ills of nature that befall;

Man and his breath so well, as made thee force et do- bass hich 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. ut that a speedy messenger was sent,

Though thou had'st made a general survey 29 bildet

o show the duke of Clarence was hard by, Of all the best of men's best knowledges,
nd 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, chapaseso entertain bim with fit compliment;

And less presume-And yet when being mov'd is glad of such an opportunity

In private talk to speak; thou did'st bewray €, ene. 2o work upon, for those high purposes

How fully franght thou wert within ; and prov'd, le had conceiv'd in discontentedness.

That thou did'st know whatever wit could say.
Which show'd, thou had'st not books as many have,
For ostentation, but for use: and that
Thy bount'ous memory was such, as gave
A large revenue of the good it gat.
Witness so many volumes, whereto thou
Hast set thy notes under thy learned hand,

And mark'd them with that print, as will show how
FUNERAL POEM,

The point of thy conceiving thoughts did stand:
That none would think, if all thy life had been
Turn'd into leisure, thou could'st have attain'd
So much of time, to have perus'd and seen

So many volumes that so much contain'd. e rest dein 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
Vor any diff'rences of earth; and where

Thy solitary Wansted'; where thy care to which ta' No veil is drawn betwixt thy self and thee. Had gather'd all what heart or eyes delight. I false idar Vow, Devonshire, that thou art but a name, And whereas many others have, we see, of our faca TA And all the rest of thee besides is gone;

All things within their houses worth the sight; t'us, rep**

When men conceive thee not but by the fame Except themselves, that furniture of thee,

Of what thy virtue and thy worth have done: And of thy presence, gave the best delight. pcelar Now shall my verse, which thou in life did'st grace, with such a season, such a temp'rature, tut, kot 15 (And which was no disgrace for thee to do) Wert thou composed, as made sweetness one; hin my heat Not leave thee in the grave, that ugly place, And held the tenour of thy life still sure, That few regard, or have respect unto :

In consort with thyself, in perfect tone.
state Helen Where all attendance and observance ends; And never man had heart more truly serv'd
stond cont 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 flatter, when

Of any vein thou had'st that was unsound,
I speak behind 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,

As shows that thou wert born ľadorn the days rhertany as My humble life, I lose it by thy death. Nor was it such, as it could lay on me

Wherein thon liv'dst; and also to discharge

Those parts which England's and thy fame should ch what sett Any exaction of respect so strong,

raise. and thwas As tenforce m'observance beyond thee,

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.

UPON THE DEATH OF THE LATE NOBLE EARL OF

DEVONSHIRE.

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to him, the the world's le

Although in peace thou seem'd'st to be all peace, And this important piece like t' have been seat
Yet b'ing in war, thou wer't all war: and there, From off thy state, did then so tickle stand,
As in thy sphere, thy spir'ts did dever cease As that no jointure of the government
To move with indefatigable care

But shook : no ligament, no band
And nothing seem'd more to arride thy heart, Of order and obedience, but were then
Nor more enlarge thee into jollity,

Loose and in tott'ring, when the charge
Than when thou saw'st thy self in armour girt, Thereof was laid on Montjoy; and that other me
Or any act of arms like to be nigh.

Chok'd by example, sought to put it off.
The Belgic war first try'd thy martial spirt, [found; And he, out of his native modesty,
And what thou wert, and what thou would'st be (As b'ing no undertaker) labours too
And mark'd thee there according to thy mer't, To have avoided that which his ability
With honour's stamp, a deep and noble wound. And England's genius, would have him to do:
And that same place that rent from mortal men Alleging how it was a charge unfit
Immortal Sidney, glory of the field !

For him to undergo; see'ng such a one
And glory of the Muses ! and their pen

As bad more pow'r and means t' accomplish it,
(Who equal bear the caduce and the shield) Than he could have, had there so little dobe.
Had likewise been my last; had not the fate Whose ill success, (consid'ring his great worth
Of England then reserv'd thy worthy blood, Was such, as could that mischief be withstood,
Unto the preservation of a state

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 sbould Of grace and favour in Eliza's sight,

Restore it wholly to itself again;
(That miracle of women!) who by this

But only now (if possible) he could
Made thee beheld according to thy right:

In any fash'on but the same retain,
Which fair and happy blessing thou might'st well So that it did not fall asunder quite,
Have far more rais'd, had not thine enemy B'ing thus dishiver'd in a desp'rate plight.
(Retired privacy) made thee to sell

With courage on he goes; doth execute
Thy greatness for thy quiet, and deay

With counsel; and returns with victory.
To meet fair Fortune when she came to thee. Bnt in what noble fash'on he did suit
For never man did his preferment fly,

This action! with what wit and industry!
And had it in that eminent degree,

Is not to be disgrac'd in this small card:
As thou; as if it sought thy modesty.

It asks a spacious map of inore regard.
For that which many (whom ambition toils Here is no room to tell, with what strange speed
And tortures with their hopes) hardly attain And secresy he used, to prevent
With all their thrusts, and should'ring plots, and The enemies designs ; nor with what heed
Was easily made thine without thy pain. [wiles, He march'd before report: where what he meant,
And without any private malicing,

Fame never knew herself, till it was done;
Or public grievance, every good man joy'd His drifts and rumour seldom b'ing all one.
That virtue could come clear to any thing, Nor will this place conveniency afford,
And fair deserts to be so fairly paid.

To show how he (when dismal Winter storms)
Those benefits that were bestow'd on thee,

Keeps peace, and makes Mars sheath his sword,
Were not like Fortune's favours: they could see Toils him abroad, and noble acts performs.
Eliza's clear-ey'd judgment is renown'a

Nor how by mast'ring difficulties so,
For making choice of thy ability.

In times unusual, and by passage bard,
But it will everlastingly rebound

He bravely came to disappoint his foe;
Unto the glory and benignity

And many times surpris'd him unprepar'd.
Of Britain's mighty monarch, that thou wer't Yet let me touch one point of this great act,
By him advanced for thy great desert:

That famous siege, the master-work of all;
It b'ing the fairer work of majesty,

Where no distress nor difficulties lack'd
With favour to reward, thạnı to employ.

l'afflict his weary, tired camp withal:
Although thy services were such, as they

That when enclos'd by pow'rful enemies
Might ask their grace themselves; yet do we see, On either side, with feeble troops he lay
That to success desert hath not a way,

Intrench'd in' mire, in cold, in miseries;
But under princes that most gracious be:

Kept waking with alarums night and day.
For without thy great valour we had lost

There were who did advise him to withdraw
The dearest purchase ever England made;

His army, to some place of safe defence,
And made with such profuse, exceeding cost From the apparent peril; which they saw
Of blood and charge, to keep and to invade; Was to confound them, or to force them thence.
As commutation paid a dearer price

“ For now the Spaniard hath possess'd three For such a piece of earth: and yet well paid,

ports,
And well adventur'd for with great advice, The most important of this isle,” say they;
And happily to our dominions laid:

“ And sooner fresh suppliments Spain transports
Without which, out-let England, thou had'st been To them, than England can to us convey:
From all the rest of th’ Earth shut out, and pent The rebel is in heart; and now is join'd
Unto thy self, and forc'd to keep within;

With some of them already, and doth stand
Environ'd round with others' government.

Here orer us, with chiefest strength combin'd
Where now by this, thy large imperial crown Of all the desp'rate forces of the land :
Stands boundless in the west, and hath a way And how upon these disadvantages,
For noble times, left to make all thine own Your doubtful troops will fight, your honour guess."
That lies beyond it, and force all t' obey.

Th' undaunted Montjoy hereto answers this:

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“ My worthy friends, the charge of this great | That worthiness which merits to reinain
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, mutt'ring Envy, wbat 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
Will be imbranded with the mark of blame. Within the region of intirmity;
And since we here are come unto the point, Where all perfections never did appear
For which we toild so much, and stay'd so long; To meet in any one so really,
Let us not now our travails disappoint

But that his frailty ever did bewray
Of th' honour which doth thereunto belong. Unto the world that he was set in clay.
We cannot spend our blood more worthily, And Gratitude and Charity, I know,
Than in so fair a cause—And if we fall,

Will keep uo note, nor memory will have
We fall with glory : and our worth thereby Of ought, but of his worthy virtues now,
Shall be renowned, and held dear of all.

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 tbe 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 his 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 carriges,

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 man. 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 he 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.

Tbat 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
But as a man that lov'd no great commerce That men were over-tumblid suddenly;
With bus'ness and with noise, he ever flies

And therefore did desire to set a course
That maze of many ways, which might disperse And order this affairs as speedily,
Him into other men's uncertainties:

As might be, ere his sickness should grow worse.
And with a quiet calm sincerity,

And as for death,” said 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 be 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,
Thy noblest friends do not forsake thee now, Nor with a sigh consent to show his pain;
After thy death; but bear a kind regard

Which howsoever b'ing tyrannical,
Unto thine honour in the grave; and show He sweetly made it look; and did retain

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