present loss of so worthy a Lord: but a most sad truth it is, Fame may be lamented, never recalled: upon which infallible axiom, desperate of all possibility, either of regaining the same, or hoping his peer, as much as in the reach of my weak talent lay (unusual to this stile), I have endeavoured to register his memory, whose memory will grace my labours. To you, excellent Lady, it was intended, to you it is addressed; not doubting, but whatsoever hath been of him said, and truly said, your honourable favour will allow the favourable protection of your expressest patronage, who, whilst he lived, endowed you, and justly endowed you, with all the principles of his sincerest heart, and best fortunes. Let not, therefore, worthy Countess, my rasher presump

perhaps the violence put upon her early affections wrought some pardon or pity for her; for she lost no caste, even under Elizabeth, and she was one of the first ladies selected by her Council to proceed to Holyrood House, and conduct the wife of the new monarch to Whitehall. Her accomplishments were of the highest kind, and in every splendid and graceful measure she appears among the foremost. To Ann she made herself very agreeable, from her first introduction; and the Queen's partiality to her is noted with an evident tincture of displeasure by the high-born and highspirited Lady Ann Clifford, at this period a young woman.

I am unable to say whether Lady Rich was actually and legally divorced from her husband, or whether the separation took place in consequence of articles drawn up between themselves; but though Mountjoy returned from Ireland in 1603, he did not marry the Countess till two years afterwards, so that she appears as Lady Rich in the magnificent Masque of Blackness, and in the splendid procession from the Tower to Whitehall, where she walks, "by especial commandement," immediately after the Countess of Shrewsbury.

tion seem presumptuous folly in the eyes of your discreeter judgment, in that without your privity (being a mere stranger, altogether unknown unto you) I have thus adventured to shelter my lines under the well-guided conduct of your honourable name: grounding my boldness upon this assurance, that true gentility is ever accompanied (especially in your sex, more specially in yourself) with her inseparable adjunct, singular Humanity, principally towards those, whom neither mercenary hopes or servile flattery, have induced to speak but with the privilege of troth. And as for such who misdeem virtue without cause, innocency shall pity them, though not eagerly with mortal hate: yet simply with naked truth, to which envy is ever opposite. Thus, Madam, presuming on your acceptance, I will in the mean while think my willing pains, hitherto confined to the Inns of Court, studies much different, highly guerdoned, and mine unfeathered muse, as soon dead as born, richly graced under the plumes of so worthy a protectress.

The Honourer and Lover of your noble perfections,
JO: FORD

ΤΟ

EACH AFFECTED READER.

P Erverse construction of a plain intent,
NEither is scorn'd, respected, or disguis'd:
LO sing of their slight loves, who never meant
PE culiar knowledge, willingly is priz'd,

CONTEnted happiness, Secured peace,
OF self content is ever happiest ease.

DEVO tion to the careless is meer folly,
No S Hallow envy of malicious IRE,
Can move my resolution, grounded wholly
On hopes of better judgment, I desire

The favour of my favourers, not any
Unwilling eyes, I strive not to please many.

Non omnibus studeo,

Non malevolis.

Our youthful poet seems sadly put to his wits to make out this precious Acrostic, which, I presume, may be fairly set down as the worst that ever passed the press.

FAME'S MEMORIAL.

SWIFT Time, the speedy pursuivant of heaven,
Summons to glorious virtues canoniz'd,

The lasting volume where worth roves uneven,
In brazen characters immortaliz'd;

Where merit lives embraced, base scorn despis'd:

Link'd to untainted truth, sprung from the same,
Beget his eaglet-tow'ring daughter Fame.

Fame, she who long couch'd her imperial crown
Within the blinded dark of swarthy night,
Soars now aloft triumphant up and down,
With radiant splendour gayer than the light,

And by how much more known so much more bright:
Proclaims aloud defiance to disdain,

Which her with thoughts profane should entertain.

Nor doth she lacky in this vale of mud,
This razed world, but still in state arise,
Lifting her plumed crest from out the flood
Of sea and land: while she with wonder flies
About the circle of the topless skies;

And spirits most heroic doth enflame,
With adoration of her sacred name.

Base Fear, the only monument of slaves,
Progenitor to shame, scorn to gentility,
Herald to usher peasants to their graves,
Becomes abjected thoughts of faint servility;
While haughty Fame adorns nobility,

Planting her gorgeous throne upon the crest
Of honour, casqued in a royal breast.

This makes gross dregs of souls admire the verse
Of shrill-strain'd Arts-men, whose ambrosiac quills,
While they desert's Encomiums sweet rehearse,
The world with wonder and amazement fills,
Affrighted with the threats of horrid ills:

Astonishing the chaff of pamper'd men,
With high-rear'd accents of their golden pen.

O that some sacred poet now surviv'd,
Some Homer to new mourn Achilles loss,
Our dear Achilles loss, of life depriv'd,
Who living, life in danger's death did toss,
Nor daunted with this hazard, or that cross:

O that he lived with scholys most divine,
To cote and add one worthy to the Nine!

The Nine had pass'd for saints, had not our time
Obscured the beams of their bright splendent praise,
By a more noble Worthy whose sublime
Invicted spirit, in most hard assays,

Still added reverent statues to his days:

Surmounting all the Nine in worth as far
As Sol the tincture of the meanest star.