But call to mind a lady like yourself;
And think how ill in such a beauteous soul,
Upon the instant morrow of her nuptials,
Apostasy and vild revolt would show:
Withal imagine that she had a lord,

Jealous the air should ravish her chaste looks:
Doting like the creator in his models,

Who views them every minute, and with care
Mix'd in his fear of their obedience to him.
Suppose he[r] sung through famous Italy,
More common than the looser songs
of Petrarch,
To every several zany's instrument,

And he, poor wretch, hoping some better fate
Might call her back from her adulterate purpose,
Lives in obscure and almost unknown life,
Till hearing that she is condemned to die-
For he once loved her-lends his pined corpse
Motion to bring him to her stage of honour,
Where drown'd in woe at her so dismal chance,
He clasps her thus he falls into a trance.
Isabella. O, my offended lord, lift up your eyes:
But yet avert them from my loathed sight.
Had I with you enjoyed the lawful pleasure,
To which belongs nor fear nor public shame,
I might have lived in honour, died in fame!
Your pardon on my faltering knees I beg,
Which shall confirm more peace unto my death
Than all the grave instructions of the Church.
Roberto. Freely thou hast it. Farewell, my Isabella !
Let thy death ransom thy soul. O die a rare
example!

The kiss thou gavest me in the church, here take; As I leave thee, so thou the world forsake! [Exit. Executioner. Madam, only tie up your hair.

Isabella. O, these golden nets,

That have ensnared so many wanton youths,
Not one but has been held a thread of life,

Executioner. Madam, I must entreat you, blind

eyes.

your

Isabella. I have lived too long in darkness, my friend;
And yet mine eyes, with their majestic light,
Have got new muses in a poet's spright.

They have been more gazed at than the god of day:

Their brightness never could be flattered,

Yet thou command'st a fixed cloud of lawn
To eclipse eternally these minutes of light.
I am prepared.

Women's inconstancy.

Who would have thought it? She that could no

more

Forsake my company, than can the day

Forsake the glorious presence of the sun !—
When I was absent then her galled eyes
Would have shed April showers, and outwept
The clouds in that same o'er-passionate mood,
When they drown'd all the world-yet now for-
sakes me !

Women, your eyes shed glances like the sun :
Now shines your brightness, now your light is

done.

On the sweetest flowers you shine-'tis but by. chance,

And on the basest weed you 'll waste a glance.

THE COMEDY OF OLD FORTUNATUS: BY THOMAS DECKER.

The Goddess FORTUNE appears to FORTUNATUS, and offers him the choice of six things. He chooses Riches.

Fortune. Before thy soul at this deep lottery
Draw forth her prize, ordain'd by destiny,
Know that here 's no recanting a first choice.
Choose then discreetly, for the laws of fate,
Being graven in steel, must stand inviolate.
Fortunat. Daughters of Jove and the unblemish'd
Night,

Most righteous Parcæ, guide my genius right: Wisdom, strength, health, beauty, long life, and riches.

Fortune. Stay, Fortunatus, once more hear me speak;
If thou kiss Wisdom's cheek and make her thine,
She 'll breathe into thy lips divinity,

And thou (like Phoebus) shalt speak oracle;
Thy heaven-inspired soul, on Wisdom's wings,
Shall fly up to the parliament of Jove,
And read the statutes of eternity,

And see what's past and learn what is to come.
If thou lay claim to strength, armies shall quake
To see thee frown: as kings at mine do lie,
So shall thy feet trample on empery.

Make health thine object, thou shalt be strong proof
'Gainst the deep searching darts of surfeiting,
Be ever merry, ever revelling.

Wish but for beauty, and within thine eyes
Two naked Cupids amorously shall swim,

And on thy cheeks I'll mix such white and red,
That Jove shall turn away young Ganymede,
And with immortal arms shall circle thee.

Dekker his Dreame.

In which, beeing rapt with a Poeticall Enthufiafme, the great Volumes of Heauer and Hell to Him were opened, in which he read many Wonderfull Things.

Eft Deus in Nobis, agitante calefcimus illo.

Reduced facsimile of title-page of Dekker his Dreame,' 1620.