SONNET I.

Love, the delight of all well-thinking minds,
Delight, the fruit of vertue dearely lov'd,
Vertue, the highest good that reason finds,
Reason, the fire wherein mens thoughts bee prov'd,
Are from the world by nature's power bereft,
And in one creature, for her glory, left.

Beautie her cover is, the eyes true pleasure;

In honour's fame she lives, the eares sweet musicke; Excesse of wonder growes from her true measure, Her worth is passion's wound and passion's physicke; From her true heart cleare springs of wisdome flow, Which, imag'd in her words and deeds, men know.

Time faine would stay, that she might never leave her,

Place doth rejoyce, that she must needs containe her, Death craves of heaven, that she may not bereave her, The heavens know their owne, and doe maintaine her; Delight, love, reason, vertue let it be,

To set all women light, but only she.

SONNET IV.

You little starres that live in skyes,

And glory in Apollo's glorie,

In whose aspects conjoined lyes

The heaven's will, and nature's storie,

Joy to be likened to those eyes,

Which eyes make all

eyes glad or sorrie;

For when you force thought from above,

These over-rule your force by love.

And thou, ô Love! which in these eyes
Hast married reason with affection,
And made them saints of beautie's skyes,

Where joyes are shadowes of perfection;
Lend me thy wings that I may rise

Up not by worth, but thy election:
For I have vow'd in strangest fashion,
To love, and never seeke compassion.

SONNET XCI.

Rewards of earth, nobilitie and fame,

To senses glorie, and to conscience woe,
How little be you, for so great a name ;—
Yet lesse is he with men that thinks you so:
For earthly power, that stands by fleshly wit,
Hath banish'd that truth which should governe it.

Nobilitie, power's golden fetter is

Wherewith wise kings subjection doe adorne,
To make man thinke her heavy yoke a blisse,
Because it makes him more than he was borne ;
Yet still a slave, dimm'd by mists of a crowne,
Lest he should see what riseth, what puls downe.

Fame that is but good words of evill deeds,

Begotten by the harme we have or doe,
Greatest farre off, least ever where it breeds,
We both with dangers and disquiet wooe;

And in our flesh, the vanities false glasse,
We, thus deceav'd, adore these calves of brasse.

Two letters by lord Brooke occur in the Harl. MSS. 286 and 1581; the former addressed to sir Francis Walsingham, supplicating his good offices with queen

Elizabeth; the latter, to Villiers duke of Buckingham, when he was attendant on prince Charles's long courtship with the infanta of Spain, is here transcribed.

66

Right honourable and my verie good lord, "A short blessing is ever welcome to a good childe, and a quarrel for omission of dutie from such a graundfather is a greater bond of kindness then a mother's blessing in a clout. Therefore, noble lord, to make good this, and some amende for my negligence, let mec pray God to preserve you in the heat of Spayne, spring of the yeare, and my graundmother's absence, from strong wyne, vyolent exercise, and delicate

Woemen.

"More then complement what can you expect from him to whome you commaund nothing: a man old 6, without office, employment, or particular intelligence in any thing. Nevertheles, worthy lord, if the proverbe be true, that lookers on maie see sometymes as much as players can doe; then beleive that I will carefully attend my soveraigne's provident eye over all that concerns you: and if I finde any draught play'd amisse in your game, as confidently presume to acquaint him. Hee can doe what he will, and in my conscience will doe what hee can.

"Touching this noble worke you are in hand with, I will say noe more but blessed be the woeing that is not long in doeing; especially after soe many yeares spent in deliberate treaties about it. The god of love and honour forbidd that anie advantagious wisdome whatsoever should eclipse, qualify, yea or mingle

• Lord Brooke was now in the seventieth year of his age.

it self with those hazardous travells of our brave prince's affections to bring home his equalls. I will therefore hope that it is among kinges and princes as with private men, where we see suspition to begett suspition, caution to bring forth caution, and contrariwise, a gallantaesse of proceeding to have as gallant a manner of retorne. Their part is yet yet behinde for the consummation of all. In the cariage of which your lordshipp shall have just cause to observe, that howsoever, in petty thinges, the spreading scepter of Spayne maie seeme to bend under the myter of Rome; yet in regalities and thinges of high nature, I presume you shall see it reserves a more singlatyve greatness, then other petty soveraignes of the same faith doe, or dare imagine.

"I seriously wish this hasty errand ended, and your selves at home, where you shall finde your old graundchilde hartely devoted to lyve and dye

"Your lordships loving and humble servant,

"F. BROOKe.

"Whitehall, this 10th of Aprill 1623.

"Lord Marquesse Buckingham."]

Ben Jonson, Randolph, Howell, and other poets, adopted paternal and filial titles when they addressed each other, but it seems that courtiers carried this foolery still farther; and Villiers duke of Buckingham stiled the minion-loving monarch "his dear dade and gossip." Vide Nugæ Antiq. vol. i. p. 394.

GEORGE CAREW,

EARL OF TOTNESS,

THE younger son of a dean of Exeter, raised himself by his merit to great honours. Though his titles were conferred by the kings James and Charles, his services were performed under Elizabeth, in whose reign he was master of the ordnance in Ireland, treasurer of the army there, president of Munster, and one of the lords justices. With less than four thousand men he reduced many castles and forts to the queen's obedience, took the earl of Desmond prisoner, and brought the Bourks, O'Briens, and other rebels, to submission. He baffled all attempts of the Spaniards on his province, and established it in perfect peace. He died in an honourable old age at the Savoy in 1629, and is buried under a goodly monument at Stratford upon Avon. He was a great patron of learning and lover of antiquities.

He wrote,

"Pacata Hibernia; or the History of the Wars