'Tis true, as my womb swells, so my back stoops, And the whole lump grows round, deformed, and droops;

But yet the Tun at Heidelberg had hoops.

You were not tied by any painter's law
To square my circle, I confess, but draw
My superficies: that was all you saw;

Which if in compass of no art it came
To be described by a monogram,

With one great blot you'd formed me as I am.

But whilst you curious were to have it be
An archetype, for all the world to see,
You made it a brave piece, but not like me.

O, had I now your manner, mastery, might, Your power of handling, shadow, air, and spright, How I would draw, and take hold and delight!

A POEM SENT ME BY SIR WILLIAM BURLASE.

THE PAINTER TO THE POET.

To paint thy worth, if rightly I did know it,
And were but painter half like thee, a poet;
Ben, I would show it:

But in this skill, my unskilful pen will tire,
Thou, and thy worth, will still be found far higher;

And I a liar.

Then, what a painter's here! or what an eater
Of great attempts! whenas his skill's no greater,

And he a cheater!

Then, what a poet's here! whom, by confession
Of all with me, to paint without digression

There's no expression.

Put you are he can paint; I can but write: A poet hath no more but black and white, Ne knows he flattering colors, nor false light.

Yet when of friendship I would draw the face, A lettered mind, and a large heart would place To all posterity; I will write Burlase.

AN EPIGRAM то

WILLIAM, EARL OF NEW-
CASTLE. 88

When first, my lord, I saw you back your horse,
Provoke his mettle, and command his force

88 William Cavendish, earl, marquis, and afterwards Duke of Newcastle, and husband of the voluminous Duchess of Newcastle, distinguished himself during the Civil Wars by his devotion to the cause of Charles I., the zeal he displayed in raising troops, and the ability with which he conducted the desultory military operations in which he was opposed to the army of the Parliament. The king constituted him general-in-chief over all the forces raised north of the Trent, and in several English counties, empowering him at the same time to confer the honor of knighthood, to coin money, and to issue any declarations he thought expedient; powers which the duke is said to have used with great moderation. In April, 1644, he made a successful movement for the relief of York; but the advantage gained through his skill was thrown away by the rashness of Prince Rupert, who, contrary to his advice, risked the fatal battle of Marston Moor. Seeing that the royal cause was lost, the Duke of Newcastle made his way to Scarborough, and took shipping for Hamburg, from whence he removed to Amsterdam and Paris, and finally to Antwerp, where he spent the remaining years of his exile. He was soon reduced to the last extremity of distress, pawning his clothes for a dinner, while the Parliament were levying enormous sums upon his estates. His losses were

To all the uses of the field and race,
Methought I read the ancient art of Thrace,
And saw a centaur, past those tales of Greece,
So seemed your horse and you both of a piece!
You showed like Perseus upon Pegasus,
Or Castor mounted on his Cyllarus ;

Or what we hear our home-born legend tell,
Of bold Sir Bevis and his Arundel:

Nay, so your seat his beauties did indorse,
As I began to wish myself a horse:

89

estimated at upwards of £ 730,000; for which some compensation was made to him on his return to England at the Restoration, when he was advanced to the dignity of Earl of Ogle and Duke of Newcastle. But he was now too old to take any part in public affairs, and, retiring into the country, he devoted the rest of his life to study. He died in December, 1676, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. As may be gathered from the epigram, the Duke of Newcastle was one of the most skilful horsemen of his time. He also excelled in fencing, an accomplishment which Jonson has likewise celebrated; see post, p. 252. Of his Grace's writings, which are not numerous, and which consist chiefly of a few comedies and occasional poems, the most celebrated is his treatise on the management of horses. This work was originally written in English, translated into French by a Walloon, and first published at Antwerp in 1658, La methode nouvelle de dresser les Chevaux, &c. It was afterwards enlarged by the author, or altogether rewritten, and published in London in 1667, under the title of A New Method and extraordinary Invention to dress Horses, and work them according to Nature; as also to perfect Nature by the Subtlety of Art.-B.

89 An allusion, probably, to a passage in Sir Philip Sidney's Defence of Poetry, where, speaking of Pugliana's discourse upon horses, he says, "If I had not been a piece of a logician before I came to him, I think he would have persuaded me to have wished myself a horse.” — G.

And surely, had I but your stable seen
Before, I think my wish absolved had been ;
For never saw I yet the Muses dwell,
Nor any of their household, half so well.
So well! as when I saw the floor and room
I looked for Hercules to be the groom;
And cried, Away with the Cæsarian bread!
At these immortal mangers Virgil fed.90

EPISTLE TO MR. ARTHUR SQUIB."

91

I am to dine, friend, where I must be weighed
For a just wager, and that wager paid
If I do lose it; and, without a tale,

A merchant's wife is regent of the scale;

Who, when she heard the match, concluded

straight,

An ill commodity! 't must make good weight.
So that, upon the point, my corporal fear
Is, she will play Dame Justice too severe,
And hold me to it close; to stand upright
Within the balance, and not want a mite;
But rather with advantage to be found
Full twenty stone, of which I lack two pound;'

92

90 Alluding to the circumstance of Virgil having been employed in the stables of Augustus, and having his customary allowance of bread doubled for the judgment he gave of a colt the emperor had just bought.-W.

91 See ante, p. 231.

92 The wager, says Whalley, seems to have been that the poet weighed twenty stone; but finding that he wanted two pounds of that weight, he artfully turns the circumstance into

That's six in silver; now within the socket
Stinketh my credit, if into the pocket

It do not come: one piece I have in store,
Lend me, dear Arthur, for a week, five more,

And you shall make me good, in weight and fashion,

And then to be returned; or protestation
To go out after:-till when take this letter
For your security. I can no better.

TO MR. JOHN BURGES.93

Would God, my Burges, I could think
Thoughts worthy of thy gift, this ink;
Then would I promise here to give

a reason for borrowing from his friend five pounds in silver. With this amount in his pocket, in addition to one piece he had already, he would be able to turn the scale, six pounds in silver being equal, upon Jonson's calculation, to two pounds in weight. B. I doubt whether we understand the nature of this wager, which was probably a mere jest. If the sense be as Whalley states it, there is as little of art as of honesty in it.-G.

93 Burges was probably the deputy-paymaster of the household. He had made Jonson a present of some ink, and this little production, which wants neither spirit nor a proper self-confidence, enclosed perhaps the return for it. Master Burges might have sent the wine at the same time. Jonson, who lived much about the court while his health permitted him to come abroad, seems to have made friends of most of those who held official situations there, and to have been supplied with stationery, and perhaps many other petty articles. The following is transcribed from the blank leaf of a volume of miscellaneous poetry, formerly in the possession of Dr.