The Lives of the Most Famous English Poets (1687) by William Winstanley

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* * * * *

_JOHN LELAND_.

This famous Antiquary, Mr. _John Leland_, flourish'd in the year 1546.
about the beginning of the Reign of King _Edward_ the Sixth, and was
born by most probable conjecture at _London_. He wrote, among many
other Volumes, several Books of Epigrams, his _Cigneo Cantio_, a
Genethliac of Prince _Edward_, _Naniae_ upon the death of Sir _Thomas
Wiat_, out of which we shall present you with these Verses:

_Transtulit in nostram_ Davidis _carmina linguam,
Et numeros magna reddidit arte pares.
Non morietur opus tersum, spectabile sacrum,
Clarior hac fama parte_ Viattus _erit.
Una dies geminos Phoenices non dedit orbi,
Mors erit unius, vita sed alterius.
Rara avis in terris confectus morte_ Viattus,
Houerdum _haeredem scripserat ante suum.
Dicere nemo potest recte periisse_ Viattum,
_Ingenii cujus tot monimenta vigent_.

He wrote also several other things both in Prose and Verse, to his
great fame and commendation.

* * * * *

_THOMAS CHURCHYARD_.

_Thomas Churchyard_ was born in the Town of _Shrewsbury_, as himself
doth affirm in his Book made in Verse of the _Worthiness of Wales_,
taking _Shropshire_ within the compass, (to use his own Expression)
_Wales_ the _Park_, and the _Marches_ the _Pale_ thereof. He was one
equally addicted to Arts and Arms, serving under that renowned Captain
Sir _William Drury_, in a rode he made into _Scotland_, as also under
several other Commanders beyond Sea, as he declares in his _Tragical
Discourse of the Unhappy Mans Life_, saying,

Full thirty years both Court and Wars I tryde,
And still I sought acquaintance with the best,
And served the State, and did such hap abide
As might befal, and Fortune sent the rest,
When Drum did sound, I was a Soldier prest
To Sea or Land, as Princes quarrel stood,
And for the same full oft I lost my blood.

But it seems he got little by the Wars but blows, as he declares
himself a little after.

But God he knows, my gain was small I weene,
For though I did my credit still encrease,
I got no wealth by wars, ne yet by peace.

Yet it seems he was born of wealthy friends, and had an Estate left
unto him, as in the same Work he doth declare.

So born I was to House and Land by right,
But in a Bag to Court I brought the same,
From _Shrewsbury_-Town, a seat of ancient fame.

Some conceive him to be as much beneath a Poet as above a Rymer, yet
who so shall consider the time he wrote in, _viz._ the beginning of the
Reign of Queen _Elizabeth_, shall find his Verses to go abreast with
the best of that Age. His Works, such as I have seen and have now in
custody, are as followeth:

_The Siege of_ Leith.
_A Farewel to the World_.
_A feigned Fancy of the Spider and the Goat_.
_A doleful Discourse of a Lady and a Knight_.
_The Road into_ Scotland, _by Sir_ William Drury.
_Sir_ Simon Burley'_s Tragedy_.
_A Tragical Discourse of the Vnhappy Mans Life_.
_A Discourse of Vertue_.
Churchyard'_s Dream_.
_A Tale of a Fryar and a Shoomaker's wife_.
_The Siege of_ Edenborough-_Castle_.
_Queen_ Elizabeth'_s Reception into_ Bristol.

These Twelve several Treatises he bound together, calling them
_Church-yard's Chips_, and dedicated them to Sir _Christopher Hatton_.
He also wrote the Falls of _Shore_'s Wife and of Cardinal _Wolsey_;
which are inserted into the Book of _the Mirrour for Magistrates_.
Thus, like a stone, did he trundle about, but never gather'd any Moss,
dying but poor, as may be seen by his Epitaph in Mr. _Cambden's
Remains_, which runs thus;

Come _Alecto_, lend me thy Torch,
To find a _Church-yard_ in a Church-porch:
_Poverty_ and _Poetry_ his Tomb doth enclose,
Wherefore good Neighbours be merry in prose.

His death, according to the most probable conjecture, may be presumed
about the eleventh year of the Queen's Reign, _Anno Dom._ 1570.

* * * * *

_JOHN HIGGINS_.

_John Higgins_ was one of the chief of them who compiled the History of
_the Mirrour of Magistrates_, associated with Mr. _Baldwin_, Mr.
_Ferrers_, _Thomas Churchyard_, and several others, of which Book Sir
_Philip Sidney_ thus writes in his _Defence of Poesie_, _I account the_
Mirrour of Magistrates _meetly furnished of beautiful parts_. These
Commendations coming from so worthy a person, our _Higgins_ having so
principal a share therein, deserves a principal part of the praise. And
how well his deservings were, take an essay of his Poetry in his
induction to the Book.

When Summer sweet with all her pleasures past,
And leaves began to leave the shady tree,
The Winter cold encreased on full fast,
And time of year to sadness moved me:
For moisty blasts not half so mirthful be,
As sweet _Aurora_ brings in Spring-time fair,
Our joys they dim as Winter damps the air.

The Nights began to grow to length apace,
Sir _Phoebus_ to th'Antartique 'gan to fare:
From _Libra_'s lance, to the _Crab_ he took his race
Beneath the Line, to lend of light a share.
For then with us the days more darkish are,
More short, cold, moist, and stormy, cloudy, clit,
For sadness more than mirths or pleasures fit.

Devising then what Books were best to read,
Both for that time, and sentence grave also,
For conference of friend to stand in stead,
When I my faithful friend was parted fro;
I gat me strait the Printers shops unto,
To seek some Work of price I surely ment,
That might alone my careful mind content.

And then he declareth how there he found the first part of this Mirrour
for Magistrates, which yet took beginning from the time of King
_Richard_ the Second; But he knowing many Examples of famous persons
before _William_ the Conquerour, which were wholly omitted, he set upon
the Work, and beginning from _Brute_, continued it to _Aurelius
Bassianus Caracalla_ Emperour of _Rome_, about the year of Christ 209.
shewing in his Writings a great deal of Wisdom and Learning. He
flourished about the beginning of the Reign of Queen _Elizabeth_.

* * * * *

_ABRAHAM FRAUNCE_.

This _Abraham Fraunce_, a Versifier, about the same time with _John
Higgins_, was one who imitated _Latine_ measure in _English_ Verse,
writing a Pastoral, called _the Countess of_ Pembroke's _Ivy-church_,
and some other things in Hexameter, some also in Hexameter and
Pentameter; He also wrote _the Countess of_ Pembroke's _Emanuel_,
containing the Nativity, Passion, Burial, and Resurrection of Christ,
together with certain Psalms of _David_, all in _English_ Hexameters.
Nor was he altogether singular in this way of writing, for Sir _Philip
Sidney_ in the Pastoral Interludes of his _Arcadia_, uses not only
these, but all other sorts of _Latine_ measure, in which no wonder he
is followed by so few, since they neither become the _English_, nor any
other modern Language.

He began also the Translation of _Heliodorus_ his _AEthiopick_ History,
in the same kind of Verse, of which, to give the Reader the better
divertisement, we shall present you with a tast.

As soon as Sun-beams could once peep out fro the Mountains,
And by the dawn of day had somewhat lightned _Olympus_,
Men, whose lust was law, whose life was still to be lusting,
Whose thriving thieving, convey'd themselves to an hill top,
That stretched forward to the _Heracleotica_ entry
And mouth of _Nylus_; looking thence down to the main sea
For sea-faring men; but seeing none to be sailing,
They knew 'twas bootless to be looking there for a booty:
So that strait fro the sea they cast their eyes to the sea-shore;
Where they saw, that a Ship very strangely without any ship man,
Lay then alone at road, with Cables ty'd to the main-land,
And yet full fraighted, which they, though far, fro the hill-top,
Easily might perceive by the water drawn to the deck-boards, _&c._

His _Ivy-Church_ he dedicated to the _Countess of Pembroke_, in which
he much vindicated his manner of writing, as no Verse fitter for it
then that; he also dedicated his _Emanuel_ to her, which being but two
lines take as followeth:

_Mary_ the best Mother sends her best Babe to a _Mary:
Lord_ to a _Ladies_ sight, and _Christ_ to a _Christian_.

When he died, we cannot find, but suppose it to be about the former
part of Queen _Elizabeth's_ Reign.

* * * * *

_WILLIAM WARNER_.

_William Warner_, one of principal esteem in his time, was chiefly
famous for his _Albion's England_, which he wrote in the old-fashioned
kind of seven-footed Verse, which yet sometimes is in use, though in
different manner, that is to say, divided into two: He wrote also
several Books in prose, as he himself witnesseth, in his Epistle to the
Reader, but (as we said before) his _Albion's England_ was the
chiefest, which he deduced from the time of _Noah_, beginning thus:

I tell of things done long ago, of many things in few:
And chiefly of this Clime of ours, the accidents pursue.
Thou high director of the same, assist mine artless Pen,
To write the Jests of _Brutons_ stout, and Arts of _English-men_.

From thence he proceeds to the peopling of the Earth by the Sons of
_Noah_, intermixing therein much variety of Matter, not only pleasant,
but profitable for the Readers understanding of what was delivered by
the ancient Poets, bringing his Matter succinctly to the Siege of
_Troy_, and from thence to the coming of _Brute_ into this Island; and
so, coming down along the chiefest matters, touched of our _British_
Historians, to the Conquest of _England_ by Duke _William_, and from
him the Affairs of the Land to the beginning of Queen _Elizabeth_;
where he concludeth thus,

_Elizabeth_ by peace, by war, for majesty, for mild,
Enrich'd, fear'd, honour'd, lov'd, but (loe) unreconcil'd,
The _Muses_ check my saucy Pen, for enterprising her,
In duly praising whom, themselves, even _Arts_ themselves might err.
_Phoebus_ I am, not _Phaeton_, presumptuously to ask
What, shouldst thou give, I could not guide; give not me thy task,
For, as thou art _Apollo_ too, our mighty subjects threats
A _non plus_ to thy double power:
_Vel volo, vel nollem_.

I might add several more of his Verses, to shew the worth of his Pen,
but the Book being indifferent common, having received several
Impressions, I shall refer the Reader, for his further satisfaction, to
the Book itself.

* * * * *

_THOMAS TUSSER_.

_Thomas Tusser_ (a person well known by his Book of Husbandry) was born
at _Rinen-hall_ in _Essex_, of an ancient Family, but now extinct;
where, when but young, his Father, designing him for a Singing-man, put
him to _Wallingford_-School, where how his Misfortunes began in the
World, take from his own Pen.

O painful time, for every crime,
What toosed ears, like baited Bears,
What bobbed lips, what yerks, what nips,
What hellish toys?
What Robes so bare, what Colledge-fare?
What Bread how stale, what penny Ale?
Then _Wallingford_, how wer't thou abhorr'd,
Of silly boys?

From thence he was sent to learn Musick at _Pauls_ with one _John
Redford_, an excellent Musician; where, having attained some skill in
that Art, he was afterwards sent to _Eaton_-School, to learn the
_Latine_ Tongue, where, how his Miseries encreas'd, let himself speak.

From _Pauls_ I went, to _Eaton_ sent,
To learn straightways the _Latine_ phrase,
Where fifty three stripes given to me,
At once I had,
For fault but small, or none at all,
It came to pass thus beat I was,
See _Udal_, see, the mercy of thee
To me poor Lad.

Having attained to some perfection in the _Latine_ Tongue, he was sent
to _Trinity-Hall_ in _Cambridge_, where he had not continued long, but
he was vexed with extream sickness, whereupon he left the University,
and betook himself to Court, and lived for a while under the Lord
_Paget_, in King _Edward_ the Sixth's days; when, the Lords falling at
dissention, he left the Court, and went to _Suffolk_, where he married
his first Wife, and took a Farm at _Ratwade_ in that County, where he
first devised his Book of Husbandry, but his Wife not having her health
there, he removed from thence to _Ipswich_ and soon after buried her.

Not long after he married again to one Mrs. _Amy Moon_, upon whose Name
he thus versified:

I chanced soon to find a _Moon_,
Of chearful hue;
Which well and fine me thought did shine,
And never change, a thing most strange,
Yet keep in sight her course aright,
And compass true.

Being thus married he betook himself again to Husbandry, and hired a
Farm, called _Diram Cell_, and there he had not lived long, but his
Landlord died, and his Executors falling at variance, and now one
troubled him, and then another, whereupon he left _Diram_, and went to
_Norwich_, turning a Singing-man under Mr. _Salisbury_, the Dean
thereof; There he was troubled with a _Dissury_, so that in a 138 Hours
he never made a drop of Water. Next he hired a Parsonage at _Fairstead_
in _Essex_, but growing weary of that he returned again to _London_,
where he had not lived long, but the Pestilence raging there, he
retired to _Cambridge_: Thus did he roul about from place to place,
but, like _Sisiphus_ stone, could gather no Moss whithersoever he went:
He was successive a Musician, Schoolmaster, Servingman, Husbandman,
Grasier, Poet, more skilful in all, than thriving in any Vocation. He
traded at large in Oxen, Sheep, Dairies, Grain of all kinds, to no
profit. He spread his Bread with all sorts of Butter, yet none would
stick thereon. So that he might say with the Poet,

--_Monitis sum minor ipse meis_.

None being better at the _Theory_, or worse at the _Practice_ of
Husbandry, and may be fitly match'd with _Thomas Churchyard_, they
being mark'd alike in their Poetical parts, living in the same time,
and statur'd both alike in their Estates, and that low enough in all
reason. He died in _London_, _Anno Dom._ 1580. and was buried at St.
_Mildred's_-Church in the _Poultrey_, with this Epitaph:

Here _THOMAS TUSSER_, clad in earth doth lie,
That sometime made the Points of Husbandry:
By him then learn thou may'st, here learn we must,
When all is done, we sleep, and turn to dust:
And yet, through Christ, to Heaven we hope to go,
Who reads his Books, shall find his Faith was so.

* * * * *

_THOMAS STORER_.

_Thomas Storer_ was a great writer of Sonnets, Madrigals, and Pastoral
Airs, in the beginning of Q. _Elizabeth's_ Reign, and no doubt was
highly esteemed in those days, of which we have an account of some of
them in an old Book, called _England's Hellicon_. This kind of writing
was of great esteem in those days, and much imitated by _Thomas
Watson_, _Bartholomew Yong_, Dr. _Lodge_, and several others. What time
he died is to me unknown.

* * * * *

_THOMAS LODGE_.

_Thomas Lodge_, a Doctor of Physick, flourish'd also about the
beginning of the Reign of Queen _Elizabeth_; He was also an eminent
Writer of Pastoral Songs, Odes, and Madrigals. This following Sonnet is
said to be of his composing.

If I must die, O let me chuse my Death:
Suck out my Soul with Kisses, cruel Maid!
In thy Breasts Crystal Balls embalm my Breath,
Dole it all out in sighs when I am laid;
Thy Lips on mine like Cupping-glasses clasp;
Let our Tongues meet, and strive as they would sting:
Crush out my Wind with one straight girting Grasp,
Stabs on my Heart keep time whilst thou dost sing.
Thy Eyes like searing-Irons burn out mine;
In thy fair Tresses stifle me outright:
Like _Circes_, change me to a loathsom Swine,
So I may live for ever in thy sight.
Into Heavens Joys can none profoundly see,
Except that first they meditate on thee.

Contemporary with Dr. _Lodge_, were several others, who all of them
wrote in the same strain, as _George Gascoigne_, _Tho. Hudson_, _John
Markham_, _Tho. Achely_, _John Weever_, _Chr. Midleton_, _George
Turbervile_, _Henry Constable_, Sir _Edward Dyer_, _Charles Fitz
Geoffry_. Of these _George Gascoigne_ wrote not only Sonnets, Odes and
Madrigals, but also something to the Stage: as his _Supposes_, a
Comedy; _Glass of Government_, a Tragi-Comedy; and _Jocasta_, a
Tragedy.

But to return to Dr. _Lodge_; we shall only add one Sonnet more, taken
out of his _Euphues Golden Legacy_, and so proceed to others.

Of all chaste Birds, the _Phoenix_ doth excel;
Of all strong Beasts, the _Lion_ bears the Bell:
Of all sweet Flowers, the Rose doth sweetest smell;
Of all fair Maids, my _Rosalind_ is fairest.
Of all pure Metals, _Gold_ is only purest;
Of all high Trees, the _Pine_ hath highest Crest;
Of all soft _Sweets_, I like my Mistress best:
Of all chaste Thoughts my Mistress Thoughts are rarest.
Of all proud Birds, the _Eagle_ pleaseth _Jove_,
Of pretty Fowls, kind _Venus_ likes the _Dove_:
Of Trees, _Minerva_ doth the _Olive_ love,
Of all sweet Nymphs, I honour _Rosalinde_,
Of all her Gifts, her _Wisdom_ pleaseth most:
Of all her Graces, _Virtue_ she doth boast;
For all the Gifts, my Life and Joy is lost,
If _Rosalinde_ prove cruel and unkind.

* * * * *

_ROBERT GREENE_.

_Robert Greene_ (that great Friend to the _Printers_ by his many
Impressions of numerous Books) was by Birth a Gentleman, and sent to
study in the University of _Cambridge_; where he proceeded Master of
Art therein. He had in his time sipped of the Fountain of _Hellicon_,
but drank deeper Draughts of Sack, that _Helliconian_ Liquor, whereby
he beggar'd his Purse to enrich his Fancy; writing much against
Viciousness, but too vicious in his Life. He had to his Wife a
Virtuous Gentlewoman, whom yet he forsook, and betook himself to a high
course of Living; to maintain which, he made his Pen mercenary, making
his Name very famous for several Books which he wrote, very much taking
in his time, and in indifferent repute amongst the vulgar at this
present; of which, those that I have seen, are as followeth) Euphues
_his Censure to_ Philautus; Tullies _Love_, _Philomela_, _The Lady_
Fitz-waters _Nightingale_, _A Quip for an upstart Courtier_, _the
History of_ Dorastus _and_ Fawnia, Green's _never too late_, first and
second Part; Green's _Arcadia_, Green _his Farewell to Folly_, Greene's
_Groats-worth of Wit, &c._ He was also an Associate with Dr. _Lodge_ in
writing of several Comedies; namely, _The Laws of Nature_; _Lady
Alimony_; _Liberality and Prodigality_; and a Masque called
_Luminalia_; besides which, he wrote alone the Comedies of _Fryer
Bacon_, and _fair Emme_.

But notwithstanding by these his Writings he got much Money, yet was it
not sufficient to maintain his Prodigality, but that before his death
he fell into extream Poverty, when his Friends, (like Leaves to Trees
in the Summer of Prosperity) fell from him in his Winter of Adversity:
of which he was very sensible, and heartily repented of his ill passed
Life, especially of the wrongs he had done to his Wife; which he
declared in a Letter written to her, and found with his Book of _A
Groatsworth of Wit_, after his Death, containing these Words;

_The Remembrance of many Wrongs offered Thee and thy unreproved
Vertues, add greater sorrow to my miserable State than I can utter,
or thou conceive; neither is it lessened by consideration of thy
Absence (though Shame would let me hardly behold thy Face)
but exceedingly aggravated, for that I cannot (as I ought) to thy
own self reconcile my self, that thou mightest witness my inward Wo
at this instan Green, _and may grow strait, if he be carefully tended;
otherwise apt enough (I fear me) to follow his Fathers Folly. That
I have offended thee highly, I know; that thou canst forget my
Injuries, I hardly believe; yet I perswade my self, if thou sawest
my wretched estate, thou couldst not but lament it: Nay, certainly
I know thou wouldst. All my wrongs muster themselves about me, and
every Evil at once plagues me: For my Contempt of God, I am
contemned of Men; for my swearing and fors

Thy Repentant Husband

for his Disloyalty,

_Robert Greene_.

In a Comedy called _Green's Tu quoque_, written by _John Cooke_, I find
these Verses made upon his Death;

How fast bleak Autumn changeth _Flora_'s Die;
What yesterday was _Greene_, now's sear and dry.

* * * * *

_THOMAS NASH_.

_Thomas Nash_ was also a Gentleman born, and bred up in the University
of _Cambridge_; a man of a quick apprehension and Satyrick Pen: One of
his first Books he wrote was entituled _Pierce Penniless his
Supplication to the Devil_, wherein he had some Reflections upon the
Parentage of Dr. _Harvey_, his Father being a Rope-maker of
_Saffron-Walden_: This begot high Contests betwixt the Doctor and him,
so that it became to be a well known Pen-Combate. Amongst other Books
which Mr. _Nash_ wrote against him, one was entituled, _Have with ye
to_ Saffron-Walden; and another called _Four Letters confuted_; in
which last he concludes with this Sonnet;

Were there no Wars, poor men should have no Peace;
Uncessant Wars with Wasps and Drones I cry:
He that begins oft knows not how to cease;
He hath begun; He follow till I die.
Ile hear no Truce, Wrong gets no Grave in me:
Abuse pell-mell encounter with abuse;
Write he again, Ile write eternally;
Who feeds Revenge, hath found an endless Muse.
If Death ere made his black Dart of a Pen,
My Pen his special Bayly shall become:
Somewhat Ile be reputed of 'mongst men,
By striking of this Dunce or dead or dumb:
Await the World the Tragedy of Wrath,
What next I paint shall tread no common Path.

It seems he had a Poetical Purse as well as a Poetical Brain, being
much straightned in the Gifts of Fortune; as he exclaims in his _Pierce
Penniless_.

Why is't damnation to despair and die,
When Life is my true happiness disease?
My Soul, my Soul, thy Safety makes me fly
The faulty Means that might my Pain appease.
Divines and dying men may talk of Hell,
But in my Heart her several Torments dwell.

Ah worthless Wit, to train me to this Wo!
Deceitful Arts that nourish _Discontent_,
Ill thrive the Folly that bewitch'd me so!
Vain Thoughts adieu; for now I will repent:
And yet my Wants persuade me to proceed,
Since none takes pity of a Scholar's need.

Forgive me, God, although I curse my Birth,
And ban the Ayr wherein I breath a wretch,
Since Misery hath daunted all my Mirth,
And I am quite undone through Promise breach.
Oh Friends! no Friends, that then ungently frown,
When changing Fortune calls us headlong down.

Without redress complains my careless Verse,
And _Midas_ ears relent not at my mone;
In some far Land will I my griefs rehearse,
'Mongst them that will be mov'd, when I shall grone.
_England_ adieu, the Soil that brought me forth;
Adieu unkind, where Skill is nothing worth.

He wrote moreover a witty Poem, entituled, _The White Herring and the
Red_; and two Comedies, the one called _Summer's last Will and
Testament_, and _See me and see me not_.

* * * * *

Sir _PHILIP SIDNEY_.

Sir _Philip Sidney_, the glory of the _English_ Nation in his time, and
pattern of true Nobility, in whom the Graces and Muses had their
domestical habitations, equally addicted both to Arts and Arms, though
more fortunate in the one than in the other. Son to Sir _Henry Sidney_,
thrice Lord Deputy of _Ireland_, and Sisters Son to _Robert_ Earl of
_Leicester_; Bred in _Christ_'s Church in _Oxford_, (_Cambridge_ being
nevertheless so happy to have a Colledge of his name) where he so
profited in the Arts and Liberal Sciences, that after an incredible
proficiency in all the Species of Learning, he left the Academical
Life, for that of the Court, invited thither by his Uncle, the Earl of
_Leicester_, that great Favourite of Queen _Elizabeth_. Here he so
profited, that he became the glorious Star of his Family, a lively
Pattern of Vertue, and the lovely Joy of all the learned sort. These
his Parts so indeared him to Queen _Elizabeth_, that she sent him upon
an Embassy to the Emperor of _Germany_ at _Vienna_, which he discharged
to his own Honour, and her Approbation. Yea, his Fame was so renowned
throughout all Christendom, that (as it is commonly reported) he was in
election for the Kingdom of _Poland_, though the Author of his Life,
printed before his _Arcadia_, doth doubt of the truth of it, however it
was not above his deserts.

During his abode at the Court, at his spare hours he composed that
incomparable Romance, entituled, _The Arcadia_, which he dedicated to
his Sister the Countess of _Pembroke_. A Book (saith Dr. _Heylin_)
which, besides its excellent Language, rare Contrivances, and
delectable Stories, hath in it all the strains of Poesie, comprehendeth
the whole art of speaking, and to them who can discern and will
observe, affordeth notable Rules of Demeanour, both private and
publick; and though some men, sharp-witted only in speaking evil, have
depraved the Book, as the occasion that many precious hours are spent
no better, they consider not that the ready way to make the minds of
Youth grow awry, is to lace them too hard, by denying them just and due
liberty. Surely (saith one) the Soul deprived of lawful delights, will,
in way of revenge, (to enlarge its self out of prison) invade and
attempt unlawful pleasures. Let such be condemned always to eat their
meat with no other sawce, but their own appetite, who deprive
themselves and others of those sallies into lawful Recreations, whereof
no less plenty than variety is afforded in this _Arcadia_.

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