Beholds her Maker, and in Him doth see If Go now, her happy parents, and be sad you not understand what child Whole nations, nay, mankind, the world, with all le were the wretched'st of the race of men; EUPHEME; OR, THE FAIR FAME Left to posterity of that truly noble lady, the LADY VENETIA DIGBY, 129 late wife of SIR KENELM DIGBY, Knt., a gentleman absolute in all numbers.. I. THE DEDICATION OF HER CRADLE. Fair Fame, who art ordained to crown, 129 See ante, p. 284. This lady was a daughter of Sir Edward Stanley, of Tongue Castle, Shropshire. She was exquisitely beautiful, and Aubrey tells us that, "being matura viro, she was left by her father to live with a tenant and servants at Enston Abbey, in Oxfordshire; but, as private as that place was, it seems her beauty could not lie hid." The fame of her charms soon reached the ears of the gallant and munificent Earl of Dorset, who made no delay in urging his suit. "I have now forgot," continues Aubrey, "who first brought her to town, but I have heard my uncle Danvers, who was her contemporary, say that she was so commonly courted, and that by grandees, that 'twas written over her lodging one night in literis uncialibus, "Pray come not near, For Dame Venetia Stanley liveth here." Lord Dorset eventually became her "greatest gallant," had several children by her, and settled on her an annuity of £500 a year. It was during this period she was seen by Sir Kenelm Digby, who fell in love with her, and married her, against the will of his mother. Whatever may have been the Their heads that Envy would hold down Of death and darkness; and deprive By thee and conscience, both who thrive Of goodness still: vouchsafe to take Thereof to Time; That all posterity, as we, Who read what the Crepundia be, For though that rattles, timbrels, toys, Their corals, whistles, and prime coats, Surprise their sense. life of Lady Digby before marriage, her conduct afterwards was irreproachable. Her exemplary actions, even more than her beauty, are testified in the elegiac tributes of Jonson, Habington, Randolph, and Feltham. She expired suddenly, and was found dead in her bed, with her head resting on her hand.-B. Yet here are no such trifles brought, No cobweb cauls, no surcoats wrought With gold, or clasps, which might be bought On every stall; But here's a song of her descent; This uttered by an ancient bard, Who claims, of reverence, to be heard : Is sung as als' her getting up, II. THE SONG OF HER DESCENT. I sing the just and uncontrolled descent At either stem, and know the veins of good Run from your roots; tell, testify the grand Meeting of Graces, that so swelled the flood Of virtues in her, as, in short, she grew The wonder of her sex, and of your blood. And tell thou, Alde-leyh, none can tell more true, Thy niece's line, than thou that gav'st thy name Into the kindred, whence thy Adam drew By Ranulph [The rest of this song is lost.] III. THE PICTURE OF THE BODY. Sitting, and ready to be drawn, What make these velvets, silks, and lawn, Send these suspected helps to aid Yet something to the painter's view Draw first a cloud, all save her neck, And men may think all light rose there. |