A strappado for the Diuell Epigrams and satyres alluding to the time, with diuers measures of no lesse delight. By Misosukos, to his friend Philokrates.

An Epigram vpon the Anagram, Dedi∣cated to the Mirrour of true Excellency, his much admired (though vnacquainted) friend, Don MORIANO DELL CASTELLO, To whom the Author wishes many cheer∣ful daies, delightfull nights with his late espoused Mistresse, whose imparalelld Vertues hee hath presumed to illustrate in These his impolisht (yet affectionate) Poems.

MOri••s Augustus thou great man of sense, That art enstil'd with best of Excellence.

To thee I write: yet doe I not know how, T' expresse thy worth, or with apparant show, Of thy demerits blaze thee as thou should, Yet know (braue northerne spirit) that I would, Doe full as much as any, if my Art Were but of equall valew with my heart. For thou art he amongst all other men, That giues a subiect to the freest pen, And canst define true honour by degree, Drawne from the best, yet instanced in thee. Mount thee (resolued Heroe) that thy Fame, May be a wreath to Morianos Name. Shine bright, like Eos with his beamy face, Whose pretious Mantle, fring'd with some gold lace, Made all the passengers admire his worth, Descending from Heauens Court, to lighten earth. I know thou canst doe this, for I haue seene Euen in a place, where many more haue beene, And haue obseru'd thee, galloping thy round, Making low Congees, till thou kisse the ground VVith lip of thy humility, and then Putting thy foote in stirrop once againe, Mounted thy barbed steed, then with thy hand, Straking thy horses crest to make him stand. VVho proud on's burden, frolick'd in his stay, And with a neighing stomacke trac'd the way. Faire fall thee formall Gallant that hast force, To tame the courage of a head-strong horse, Displaying resolution in thy eye Courtship in cloths, in speech propriety.

In gesture admiration, in thy looke An Orbe of fashions, or a Table-booke. Of new-inuented features▪ in thy forme, Such exquisite perfections as adorne Natures best Mir••or, O but that I doubt, By speaking of thy wor••h, I shall be out. I could ep••t••mize each speciall thing, Thy birth, thy worth, thy wooing, sonnetting. Yet for thy loue-sake (wha••soere befall) I will speake som••hing, though I speake not all. Mongst which my Muse records that amorous son∣net VVhich who will not admire, that looks vpon it, VVrit to that faire Alicia now behight, The chast-vow'd wife vnto an honor'd Knight: Where with loues passions, thou so well did show it. That none could thinke thee lesser then a Poet. Apt in thy words, in thy dimensions rare, Thy Figures proper, and thy motions faire. A••t could not show, or euer yet bring forth, So farre fetcht straines inuented so farre North. Now of her Beauty wouldst thou Comment make, And vow to take strange labours for her sake▪ Then to induce her loue (by meanes most fit) Thou woul••st commend the promptnes of her wit, Protesting by the ae••y powers aboue, (As who ere lou'd would not protest they loue?) Noe speech ere Pallas spake merits more praise, Then what thy Mistresse Dere Alicia saies. Then wouldst thou descant of her rubie lippe, (Though thou had neuer lucke to tast of it.)

Then of her pure complexion which did praise It selfe, not as complexions now adaies. Then of her louely quallities which might be Styled the Eccoes of heauens harmonie. Then of her vertues so diuine, so rare, As they surpast the rest aboue compare. All this thou didst to shew her eminence, More grac't by thee being stil'd his excellence, And faire thy loue had ended as begun, If that a Web had not thy loues web spun. Great Northerne Atlas, what can I say more, Then of thy merits hath been said tofore. At least obseru'd? for many men doe see, And know it well I write but truth of thee. O that times records should be so portraide, In leaues of brasse, that what was done or said, In auncient ages, should so well display, Their full euents, as done but t'other day. Whilest thy renowme great mirrour of the North, Showne in our time, wants one to set it foorth, "VVhereas its no lesse glory to a Crowne, To haue Authors then haue Actors of renownes Yet shall not vertue so obscured bee, Nor those accomplisht parts appeare in thee. Lie rak't in Ashes: No great Morios heire, Thou shalt not liue as though there nothing were, VVorthy posterity? its I will write, Though far vnfitting for so great a light My be••t of thee, that art the best of man, "He does not ill that does the best he can.

Accept it needes thou must, how er't be done, Being thy Fathers God-sonne, thou his sonne. But of all vertues tha•• attend on thee, There's none that equals thy humilitie. Yet so as thou art generous with all, A stile that does adorne thee most of all. Vnto thy humble spirit annex't there is, Another soueraigne vertue, Patience; Or the enduring of an iniurie: Which of all others is obseru'd in thee. Thou wilt not snuffe if one correct thee: no, Not hardly aske him why he wrong'd thee so. Thou wilt not answere to thine owne disgrace, Nor taxe the man that turdefies thy face. Thou wilt not grieue for euery light offence, Feare is thy guide, thy shield is Patience. Thou like a christian walkes (God wot) in feare, And being boxt will turne the other eare. Thou art Gods man, and whatsoe're men say, He is the best man at the later day. Thou art no blustring boy that walkes the streete, And bindes a quarrell with who s'ere he meete. Thou art no Haxtar that by nature's giuen, To rage on Earth, but nere to raigne in Heauen. In briefe, thou art the man that God will chuse, VVearing a blade for fashion more then vse. Nor doe I flatter thee for ne're was I Seruile to anie man: but if my eie Impartiall in her knowledge seeme to show. VVhat by obseruance other men doe know,

And haue admir'd, pardon I neede not craue, Since I expresse but what thy merits haue Deseru'd: enough. Thy vertues are with best, And little need they to be more exprest, Then as they are? Goe on (my honourd friend) And as thou hast begun, so fairely end. Be Fame thy Herauld to blaze forth thy worth, Making thee Morios, none such vpon earth. Be as thou art, and more thou canst not be. Since best of being is included in thee. Be thou as hee, to whom all may resort, Muses I meane, and coming thank thee for't. Be thou as Caesar in the Capitall, So thou of Morios Castell Centinell. Be as thou art reported, great in wit, And so discreet, as thou mai'st mannage it. Be as thou art, founder of iollitie, Grauen in the gold-cup of our Langanbie. Be as thou would'st be, and I wish no more, So time shall second what I write before. But 'lasse poore Muse hast thou no more to speake Of such a subiect, (pray thee deare awake) And memorise his name in euery page, From this time forth vnto a following age. No? what is my wit drawne drie? or I am tane VVith some amazement at a great mans name? VVhy thou hast writ of men as great before, And hast exprest their actions ore and ore. Turn'th ore their best of glory, and i'th end, So won their hearts, as thou becamst their friend.

And art thou now growne s••ient? cannot he That merits best, receiue like praise of thee? No, no: he cannot; so obscur'de he liues, That though I write but truth, yet who belieues A true relation, when we seeme to show A man to men whom they doe hardly know? O then (redoubted sir) let me now end T••is home bred Sonnet (as a louing friend That would perswade) if you perswad' would be To shew your selfe something more openlie Vnto the world. O see how men repine, That you so long conceal'd, should gull the time, Hauing such parts, as much adorne your birth, Yet has no willing mind to set them forth. VVhat is a Iewell worth if euer hid? Or whats a cased Instrument in stead? The lustre of the former is not seene, Nor can we know by'th latter what't does meane. For Gemmes and instruments are knowne by tutch, And such as show them men, we know them such. VVith like good will doe I present thee these, As Mopsus (that poor shepard) sent a cheese Vnto his Phillis: and it came to me Once in my minde, to send the like to thee: But for I fear'd (and I haue cause to feare) That you had better cheese then any here: In steed of bride-cakes, cheesecakes I was tide In loue, to send this present to your Bride▪ All haile to Himen and this marriage day: Strow rushes, and quickly come away.

Bring in your flowers, and giue of each of them To such as lov'd and are forsaken men. For well I know so louing is the Bride, So curteous and so liberall beside Of her discreete affection, I dare say None must depart vnsatisfied away. Strew rushes maides, and euer as you strew, Thinke one day maides, like will be done for you: Strew you, Ile sing, or if you like nor choise; Sing you, Ile strew: you haue the better voice.

Crowned be thou Queene of loue, By those glorious powers aboue: Loue and Bewrie ioyn'd together May they col and kisse each other, And in midst of their delight, Shew thee pleasure in the night. For where acts of loue resort, Long••st nights seeme too too short; May thou sleeping dreame of ••hat, Which then waking dest partake, That both sleepe and watching may Make the da••kest night seeme day: As a fort besieged rest, Yeelding most, when seeming lest: Or in pleasures may thy smile Burnish like the Camomile, Which in verdure is encrest Most, when it is most deprest.

Vertues as they doe attend thee, So may soueraigne thoughts defend thee. Acting in thy loue with him, Wedlocks actions are no sinne: Who in Hym••ns bands is ioyned, And in sacred loue combined, To remaine euer thine. He thy Picture thou his shrine, Thou the mettall he the mint, Thou the waxe he the print, He the Lant-horne, thou the lampe, Thou the bulloine, he the stampe. Thou the figure he the feature; He thy former, thou his creature. He the image, legge and limme, Thou the mould to cast him in. He the plummet thou the center. Thou to shelter he to enter; Thou the Parke or shady vale, "He the dogge that freth's the pale. Hammer he to strike alone, Anuile thou to beate vpon▪ More I could, but more I will not, Since to speake more much it skils not; Onely I will here extend Th'period of my speech as friend; And expresse what I protest Comes from th'center of my brest, That my protestations may Beare record another day.

Iö Hymen crowne the night Of these Nuptials with delight.

No more, no more: much honour aie betide, The lofty Bride-groome, and the louely Bride: That their succeeding dayes and yeeres may say, Each day appeares like to a mariage day. But now retire, darke shades haue lodg'd the sun, Put vp thy pipes for now thy layes are done.

Finis Epithalami.