In sugar candied, or in butter'd beer,

For the recovery of my voice? No, there
Pardon his lordship; flatt'ry's grown so cheap
With him, for he is followed with that heap,
That watch and catch, at what they may applaud,
As a poor single flatterer, without bawd

Is nothing, such scarce meat and drink he'll give
But he that's both, and slave to both, shall live,
And be belov'd, while the whores last. O times!
Friend, fly from hence, and let these kindled rhymes
Light thee from hell on earth; where flatterers, spies,
Informers, masters both of arts and lies;

Lewd slanderers, soft whisperers, that let blood
The life, and fame-veins, yet not understood
Of the poor sufferers; where the envious, proud,
Ambitious, factious, superstitious, loud

Boasters, and perjur'd, with the infinite more
Prevaricators swarm of which the store
(Because they're every where amongst mankind
Spread through the world) is easier far to find,
Than once to number, or bring forth to hand,
Though thou wert Muster-master of the land.

Go, quit them all! And take along with thee,
Thy true friend's wishes, Colby," which shall be,
That thine be just and honest, that thy deeds
Not wound thy conscience, when thy body bleeds;
That thou dost all things more for truth than glory,
And never but for doing wrong be sorry;
That by commanding first thyself, thou mak'st
Thy person fit for any charge thou tak'st:
That fortune never make thee to complain,
But what she gives, thou dar'st give her again;

Thy true friend's wishes, Colby.] The name of the person to whom this epistle is addressed; he appears to have been in the military service, and from the preceding line, was probably mustermaster of the forces. WHAL.

That whatsoever face thy fate puts on,

Thou shrink or start not; but be always one;
That thou think nothing great but what is good;
And from that thought strive to be understood.
So, 'live or dead, thou wilt preserve a fame
Still precious with the odour of thy name.
And last, blaspheme not; we did never hear
Man thought the valianter, 'cause he durst swear;
No more, than we should think a lord had had
More honour in him, 'cause we've known him mad :
These take, and now go seek thy peace in war,
Who falls for love of God, shall rise a star.

R

XXXIII.

AN EPITAPH ON MASTER PHILIP GRAY.

EADER, stay,

And if I had no more to say,

But here doth lie, till the last day,
All that is left of Philip Gray,

It might thy patience richly pay:

For if such men as he could die,'

What surety' of life have thou and I?

For if such men, &c.] The force of this Epitaph is not felt, for want of knowing the character whose fate led to these reflections.

Chetwood has an Epitaph on prince Henry, which he ascribes to Jonson, and which the reader may perhaps expect to find in a collection of his works. I have little confidence in this writer, who seldom mentions his authorities; and, to say the truth, can discover nothing of our author's manner in the composition itself, which appears to be patched up from different poems, and is therefore omitted; though I have thought it right to mention the circum

stance.

XXXIV.

EPISTLE TO A FRIEND.

HEY are not, sir, worst owers that do pay
Debts when they can: good men may break
their day,

And yet the noble nature never grudge;
'Tis then a crime, when the usurer is judge,
And he is not in friendship: nothing there
Is done for gain; if't be, 'tis not sincere.
Nor should I at this time protested be,

But that some greater names have broke with me,
And their words too, where I but break my band;
I add that BUT, because I understand

That as the lesser breach: for he that takes
Simply my band, his trust in me forsakes,
And looks unto the forfeit.

If you be

Now so much friend, as you would trust in me,
Venture a longer time, and willingly:

All is not barren land doth fallow lie;
Some grounds are made the richer for the rest;
And I will bring a crop, if not the best.

XXXV.

AN ELEGY.

AN beauty, that did prompt me first to write, Now threaten, with those means she did invite ?

Did her perfections call me on to gaze,

Then like, then love; and now would they amaze!

* Where I but break my band,] i. e. whereas, in the old sense of the word. Jonson pleads his cause well; and probably kept his word (if it was taken) better than his bond.

Or was she gracious afar off, but near
A terror? or is all this but my fear?
That as the water makes things, put in't strait,
Crooked appear; so that doth my conceit :

I can help that with boldness; and Love sware,"
And Fortune once, t'assist the spirits that dare.
But which shall lead me on? both these are blind.
Such guides men use not, who their way would
find,

Except the way be error to those ends;

And then the best are still the blindest friends.
Oh how a lover may mistake! to think

Or Love, or Fortune blind, when they but wink
To see men fear; or else for truth and state,
Because they would free justice imitate,
Vail their own eyes, and would impartially
Be brought by us to meet our destiny.
If it be thus; come Love, and Fortune go,
I'll lead you on; or if my fate will so,
That I must send one first, my choice assigns
Love to my heart, and Fortune to my lines.

B

XXXVI.

AN ELEGY.

Y those bright eyes, at whose immortal fires
Love lights his torches to inflame desires;
By that fair stand, your forehead, whence
he bends

His double bow, and round his arrows sends;
By that tall grove, your hair, whose globy rings
He flying curls, and crispeth with his wings;

9 And Love sware.] He alludes to the two proverbs, Faint heart, &c. and Fortes Fortuna juvat.

By those baths your

pure

either cheek discloses,

Where he doth steep himself in milk and roses;1
And lastly, by your lips, the bank of kisses,
Where men at once may plant and gather blisses:
Tell me, my lov'd friend, do you love or no?
So well as I may tell in verse, 'tis so?

You blush, but do not :-friends are either none,
Though they may number bodies, or but one.
I'll therefore ask no more, but bid you love,
And so that either may example prove
Unto the other; and live patterns, how
Others, in time, may love as we do now.
Slip no occasion; as time stands not still,
I know no beauty, nor no youth that will.
To use the present, then, is not abuse,
You have a husband is the just excuse
Of all that can be done him; such a one
As would make shift to make himself alone
That which we can; who both in you, his wife,
His issue, and all circumstance of life,

As in his place, because he would not vary,
Is constant to be extraordinary.

By those pure baths your either cheek discloses,

Where he doth steep himself in milk and roses.] Though no date is prefixed to this Elegy, it was written before the celebration of Charis; for in the fifth ode there is an allusion to these and the following verses:

66

And see!

Such my mother's blushes be

As the bath your verse discloses

In her cheeks of milk and roses," &c.

WHAL.

This is a curious mode of settling precedency; but it shall be as Whalley pleases. This little piece begins much better than it ends.