Widow or wife, without the jealousy Such, if her manners like you, I do send ; BISHOP (JOSEPH) HALL. [Born in 1574 died in 1656. He became Bishop of Exeter in 1627, and of Norwich in 1641; soon after which, the troubles of the time, in church and state, ousted him from his see, and he expired unrestored, but much esteemed for character and piety. His Satires are the first compositions of that kind, in a regular form, in the English language. So at least they are generally accounted; though I hardly know why the claims of Wyatt in this respect should be ignored. Even as regards Hall himself, some of his Satires are of a very curt and casual sort, as our specimen shows]. A TRENCHER CHAPLAIN. A GENTLE Squire would gladly entertain Some willing man that might instruct his sons, First, that he lie upon the truckle-bed, Whiles his young master lieth o'er his head. Third, that he never change his trencher twice. How many jerks she would his breech should line. To give five marks and winter livery. JOHN FLETCHER. [Born in Northamptonshire, 1576, son of a Bishop of London; died of the plague, 1625. The constant colleague of Francis Beaumont as a dramatist, and in daily life as well: it is said "that they lived together on the Bank-side, and not only pursued their studies in close companionship, but carried their community of habits so far that they had only one bench between them, and used the same clothes and cloaks in common. Fletcher is believed to have composed the larger portion of the plays, and the great majority of the interspersed songs. The following comes from a drama, The Nice Valour, which is ascribed to Fletcher singly). LAUGHING SONG. [For several voices.] OH how my lungs do tickle! ha ha ha! Then how my lungs do tickle! And things in cambric rails, Sing best against a prickle. Ha ha ha ha! Ho ho ho ho ho ! Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! A smile is for a simpering novice,- Nor knows the smack of dear anchovies. Ho ho ho ho ho ! A giggling waiting-wench for me, That shows her teeth how white they be,- For theirs are foul and hardly three. Ha ha ha! Ho ho ho ! "Democritus, thou ancient fleerer, How I miss thy laugh, and ha' since!"1 Ho ho ho! "How brave lives he that keeps a fool, But he that is his own fool, sir, Does live a great deal cheaper. 1 Changed by Seward to "How I miss thy laugh, and ha-sense.' Neither reading is very convincing. "'Tis rare to break at court, Ha ha! my spleen is almost worn "Oh keep a corner for a friend! BISHOP (RICHARD) CORBET. [Born in 1582, died in 1635. Bishop of Oxford and of Norwich. The humorous turn of his verses was the reflex of the like quality in himself. Indeed, his deportment appears to have often been eminently unepiscopal: he had, however, substantial merits of kindliness and sound sense to set off against this]. DR. CORBET'S JOURNEY INTO FRANCE. I WENT from England into France, But I to Paris rode along, I on an ambling nag did jet And to St. Denis fast we came, Her breast, her milk, her very gown Yet all the world knows that's a fable, No carpenter could by his trade Gain so much coin as to have made A gown of so rich stuff; Yet they, poor souls, think, for their credit, 'Cause he deserved enough. There is one of the cross's nails, Some say 'twas false, 'twas never so ; There is a lanthorn which the Jews, There's one saint there hath lost his nose, His elbow and his thumb. But, when that we had seen the rags, We came to Paris, on the Seine; There many strange things are to see ;- The Place Royal doth excel, The New Bridge, and the statues there,- For learning the University, The Bastille and St. Denis Street, But, if you'll see the prettiest thing, He is, of all his dukes and peers, For he with little switch doth play, A bird that can but kill a fly, The Duke of Guise gave him a parrot, Oh that I e'er might have the hap Or else I had ill-luck. Birds round about his chamber stand, And he them feeds with his own hand, 'Tis his humility; And, if they do want anything, They need but whistle for their king, And he comes presently. But now, then, for these parts he must Be enstyled Lewis the Just, Great Henry's lawful heir; When, to his style to add more words, He hath besides a pretty quirk, Which puts a doubt in every one The people too dislike the youth,] Mothers should honoured be; |