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

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One writes, that Sir _Philip Sidney_ in the extream agony of his
wounds, so terrible the sence of death is, requested the dearest friend
he had, to burn his _Arcadia_; what promise his friend returned herein
is uncertain; but if he brake his word to be faithful to the publick
good, posterity herein hath less cause to censure him for being guilty
of such a meritorious offence, wherewith he hath obliged so many ages.
Hereupon thus writeth the _British_ Epigramatist.

_Ipse tuam morient sede conjuge teste jubebas,
Arcadium saevis ignibus esse cibum;
Si meruit mortem, quia flammam accendit amoris
Mergi, non uri debuit iste liber.
In Librum quaecunque cadat sententia nulla,
Debuit ingenium morte perire tuum._

In serious thoughts of Death 'twas thy desire
This sportful Book should be condemn'd with Fire:
If so, because it doth intend Love-matters,
It rather should be quench'd or drown'd i' th waters.
However doom'd the Book, the memory
Of thy immortal Wit will never die.

He wrote also besides his _Arcadia_, several other Works; namely, _A
Defence of Poesie_, a Book entituled _Astrophel_ and _Stella_, with
divers Songs and Sonnets in praise of his Lady, whom he celebrated
under that bright Name; whom afterwards he married, that Paragon of
Nature, Sir _Francis Walsingham_'s Daughter, who impoverished himself
to enrich the State; from whom he expected no more than what was above
all Portions, a beautiful Wife, and a virtuous Daughter.

He also translated part of that excellent Treatise of _Philip Morney du
Plessis_, of the Truth of Religion; and no doubt had written many other
excellent Works, had not the Lamp of his Life been extinguish'd too
soon; the manner whereof take as followeth:

His Unkle _Robert Dudley_ Earl of _Leicester_ (a man almost as much
hated as his Nephew was loved) was sent over into the _Low-Countries_,
with a well appointed Army, and large Commission, to defend the _United
Provinces_ against the _Spanish_ Cruelty. Under him went Sir _Philip
Sidney_, who had the Command of the cautionary Town of _Flushing_, and
Castle of _Ramekius_, a Trust which he so faithfully discharged, that
he turned the Envy of the _Dutch_ Townsmen into Affection and
Admiration. Not long after, some Service was to be performed nigh
_Zutphen_ in _Gueiderland_, where the _English_, through false
intelligence, were mistaken in the strength of the Enemy. Sir _Philip_
is employed next to the Chief in that Expedition; which he so
discharged, that it is questionable whether his Wisdom, Industry or
Valour may challenge to it self the greatest praise of the Action. And
now when the triumphant Lawrels were ready to Crown his Brows, the
_English_ so near the Victory, that they touched it, ready to lay hold
upon it, he was unfortunately shot in the Thigh, which is the
Rendez-vouz of Nerves and Sinews, which caused a Feaver, that proved so
mortal, that five and twenty days after he died of the same; the Night
of whose Death was the Noon of his Age, and the exceeding Loss of
Christendom.

His Body was conveyed into _England_, and most honourably interred in
the Church of St. _Paul_ in _London_; over which was fixed this
Epitaph:

_England_, _Netherland_, the Heavens, and the Arts,
All Souldiers, and the World have made fix parts
Of the Noble _Sidney_; for none will suppose
That a small heap of Stones can _Sidney_ enclose:
_England_ hath his Body, for she it bred;
_Netherland_ his Blood, in her defence shed;
The Heavens his Soul, the Arts his Fame;
All Soldiers the Grief, the World his good Name.

To recite the Commendations given him by several Authors, would of it
self require a Volume; to rehearse some few not unpleasing to the
Reader. The reverend _Cambden_ writes thus; This is that _Sidney_,
whom, as God's will was, he should be therefore born into the world
even to shew unto our Age a Sample of ancient Virtues. Doctor _Heylin_
in his _Cosmography_ calleth him, That gallant Gentleman of whom he
cannot but make honourable mention. Mr. _Fuller_ in his _Worthies_ thus
writes of him, His homebred Abilities perfected by Travel with foreign
accomplishments, and a sweet Nature, set a gloss upon both. _Stow_ in
his _Annals_, calleth him, a most valiant and towardly Gentleman.
_Speed_ in his Chronicle, That worthy Gentleman in whom were compleat
all Virtues and Valours that could be expected to reside in man: And
Sir _Richard Baker_ gives him this Character, A man of so many
excellent parts of Art and Nature, of Valour and Learning, of Wit and
Magnanimity, that as he had equalled all those of former Ages, so the
future will hardly be able to equal him.

Nor was this Poet forgotten by the Poets; who offered whole Hecatombs
of Verses in his praise. Hear first that Kingly Poet, or Poetical King,
King _James_ the first, late Monarch of Great _Britain_, who thus
writes,

_Armipotens cui jus in fortia pectora_ Mayors,
_Tu Dea quae cerebrum perrumpere digna totantis,
Tuque adeo bijugae proles_ Latonia _rupis
Gloria, decidua cingunt quam collibus artes,
Duc tecum, & querelis_ Sidnaei _funera voce
Plangite; nam vester fuerat_ Sidnaeus _alumnus,
Quid genus, & proavos, & spem, floremque juventae,
Immaturo obituraptum sine retexo?
Heu frustra queror? heu rapuit Mors omnia secum?
Et nihil ex tanto nunc est Heroe superstes,
Praeterquam Decus & Nomen virtute paratum,
Doctaque_ Sidneas _testantia Carmina laudes._

Thus translated by the said King:

Thou mighty _Mars_, the Lord of Soldiers brave,
And thou _Mirnerve_, that dost in wit excel,
And thou _Apollo_, who dost knowledge have
Of every Art that from _Parnassus_ fell,
With all your Sisters that thereon do dwell,
Lament for him who duly serv'd you all:
Whom in you wisely all your Arts did mell,
Bewail (I say) his unexpected fall,
I need not in remembrance for to call
His Race, his Youth, the hope had of him ay,
Since that in him doth cruel Death appall
Both Manhood, Wit and Learning every way:
But yet he doth in bed of Honour rest,
And evermore of him shall live the best.

And in another place thus;

When _Venus_ sad saw _Philip Sidney_ slain,
She wept, supposing _Mars_ that he had been,
From Fingers Rings, and from her Neck the Chain
She pluckt away, as if _Mars_ ne'er again
She meant to please, in that form he was in,
Dead, and yet could a Goddess thus beguile,
What had he done if he had liv'd this while?

These Commendations given him by so learned a Prince, made Mr.
_Alexander Nevil_ thus to write;

Harps others Praise, a Scepter his doth sing,
Of Crowned Poet, and of Laureat King.

Divine _Du Bartus_, speaking of the most Learned of the _English_
Nation, reckoneth him as one of the chief, in these words;

And (world mourn'd) _Sidney_, warbling to the _Thames_,
His Swan-like Tunes, so courts her coy proud Streams,
That (all with child with Fame) his Fame they bear
To _Thetis_ Lap, and _Thetis_ every where.

Sir _John Harrington_ in his Epigrams thus;

If that be true the latter Proverb says,
_Laudari a Laudatis_ is most Praise,
_Sidney_, thy Works in Fames Books are enroll'd
By Princes Pens, which have thy Works extoll'd,
Whereby thy Name shall dure to endless days.

Mr. _Owen_, the _Brittish_ Epigrammatist thus sets him forth:

Thou writ'st things worthy reading, and didst do
Things worthy writing too.
Thy Arts thy Valour show,
And by thy Works we do thy Learning know.

I shall conclude all with these excellent Verses made by himself a
little before his Death;

It is not I that die, I do but leave an Inn,
Where harbour'd was with me all filthy Sin:
It is not I that die, I do but now begin
Into eternal Joy by Faith to enter in,
Why mourn you then my Parents, Friends and Kin?
Lament you when I lose, not when I win.

* * * * *

Sir _FULK GREVIL_.

Next to Sir _Philip Sidney_, we shall add his great Friend and
Associate, Sir _Fulk Grevil_, Lord _Brook_, one very eminent both for
Arts and Arms; to which the _genius_ of that time did mightily invite
active Spirits. This Noble Person, for the great love he bore to Sir
_Philip Sidney_, wrote his Life. He wrote several other Works both in
Prose and Verse, some of which were Dramatick, as his Tragedies of
_Alaham_, _Mustapha_, and _Marcus Tallius Cicero_, and others, commonly
of a Political Subject; amongst which, a Posthume Work, not publish'd
till within a few years, being a two-fold Treatise, the first of
Monarchy, the second of Religion, in all which is observable a close
mysterious and sententious way of Writing, without much regard to
Elegancy of Stile, or smoothness of Verse. Another Posthume Book is
also fathered upon him; namely, _The Five Years of King_ James, _or the
Condition of the State of_ England, _and the Relation it had to other
Provinces_, Printed in the Year 1643. But of this last Work many people
are doubtful.

Now for his Abilities in the Exercise of Arms, take this instance: At
such time when the _French_ Ambassadours came over into _England_, to
Negotiate a Marriage between the Duke of _Anjou_, and Queen
_Elizabeth_, for their better entertainment, Solemn Justs were
proclaimed, where the Earl of _Arundel, Frederick_ Lord _Windsor_, Sir
_Philip Sidney_, and he, were chief Challengers against all comers; in
which Challenge he behaved himself so gallantly, that he won the
reputation of a most valiant Knight.

Thus you see, that though _Ease be the Nurse of Poesie_, the Muses are
also Companions to _Mars_, as may be exemplified in the Lives of the
Earl of _Surrey_, Sir _Philip Sidney_, and this Sir _Falk Grevil_.

I shall only add a word or two of his death, Which was as sad as
lamentable. He kept a discontented servant, who conceiving his deserts,
not soon or well enough rewarded, wounded him mortally; and then (to
save the Law a labour) killed himself. Verifying therein the
observation, _That there is none who never so much despiseth his own
life, but yet is master of another mans_.

This ingenious Gentleman, (in whose person shined all true Vertue and
high Nobility) as he was a great friend to learning himself, so was he
a great favourer of learning in others, witness his liberality to Mr.
_Speed_ the Chronologer, when finding his wide Soul was stuffed with
too narrow an Occupation, gave it enlargement, as the said Author doth
ingeniously confess in his description of _Warwickshire, Whose Merits_
(saith he) _to me-ward, I do acknowledge, in setting this hand free
from the daily employments of a Manual Trade, and giving it full
liberty thus to express the inclination of my mind, himself being the_
Procurer _of my present Estate_.

He lieth interred in _Warwick_ Church, under a Monument of Black and
White Marble, wherein he is styled, _Servant to Queen_ Elizabeth,
_Counsellor to King_ James, _and Friend to_ Sir _Philp Sidney_. He died
_Anno 16--._ without Issue, save only those of his Brain, which will
make his Name to live, when others Issue they may fail them.

* * * * *

Mr. _EDMOND SPENSER_.

This our Famous Poet, Mr. _Edmond Spenser_, was born in the City of
_London_, and brought up in _Pembroke-Hall_ in _Cambridge_; where he
became a most excellent Scholar, but especially very happy in _English_
Poetry, as his learned, elaborate Works do declare, which whoso shall
peruse with a judicious eye, will find to have in them the very height
of Poetick fancy, and though some blame his Writings for the many
_Chaucerisms_ used by him, yet to the Learned they are known not to be
blemishes, but rather beauties to his Book; which, notwithstanding,
(saith a learned Writer) had been more salable, if more conformed to
our modern language.

His first flight in Poetry, as not thinking himself fully fledged, was
in that Book of his, called _The Shepherds Kalendar_, applying an old
Name to a new Book; It being of Eclogues fitted to each Month in the
Year: of which Work hear what that worthy Knight, Sir _Philip Sidney_
writes, whose judgment in such cases is counted infallible: _The
Shepherds Kalendar_ (saith he) _hath much Poetry in his Eclogues,
indeed worthy the reading, if I be not deceived; That same framing his
Stile to an old rustick Language, I dare not allow, since neither_
Theocritus _in_ Greek, Virgil _in_ Latine, _nor_ Sanazara _in_ Italian
_did effect it_. Afterwards he translated the _Gnat_, a little fragment
of _Virgil's_ excellency. Then he translated _Bellay_ his Ruins of
_Rome_; His most unfortunate Work was that of _Mother Hubbard's Tale_,
giving therein offence to one in authority, who afterwards stuck on his
skirts. But his main Book, and which indeed I think Envy its self
cannot carp at, was his _Fairy Queen_, a Work of such an ingenious
composure as will last as long as time endures.

Now as you have heard what esteem Sir _Philip_ _Sidney_ had of his
Book, so you shall hear what esteem Mr. _Spenser_ had of Sir _Philip
Sidney_, writing thus in his _Ruins of Time_.

Yet will I sing, but who can better sing
Than thou thy self, thine own selfs valiance?
That while thou livedst thou madest the Forests ring,
And Fields resound, and Flocks to leap and dance,
And Shepherds leave their Lambs unto mischance,
To run thy shrill _Arcadian_ Pipe to hear,
O happy were those days, thrice happy were.

In the same his Poem of the _Ruins of Time_, you may see what account
he makes of the World, and of the immortal Fame gotten by Poesie.

In vain do earthly Princes then, in vain,
Seek with Pyramids to Heaven aspir'd;
Or huge Collosses, built with costly pain;
Or brazen Pillars never to be fir'd,
Or Shrines, made of the metal most desir'd,
To make their Memories for ever live,
For how can mortal immortality give?
For deeds do die, however nobly done,
And thoughts of men do in themselves decay,
But wise words taught in numbers for to run,
Recorded by the Muses, live for aye;
Ne may with storming showers be wash'd away,
Ne bitter breathing with harmful blast,
Nor age, nor envy, shall them ever wast.

There passeth a story commonly told and believed, that Mr. _Spenser_
presenting his Poems to Queen _Elizabeth_, she highly affected
therewith, commanded the Lord _Cecil_, her Treasurer, to give him an
Hundred Pound; and when the Treasurer (a good Steward of the Queen's
Money) alledged, that Sum was too much for such a matter; then give
him, quoth the Queen, _what is reason_; but was so busied, or seemed to
be so, about matters of higher concernment, that Mr. _Spenser_ received
no reward: whereupon he presented this Petition in a small piece of
Paper to the Queen in her progress.

I was promis'd on a time,
To have reason for my rime,
From that time unto this season,
I receiv'd nor rime nor reason.

This tart reflect so wrought upon the Queen, that she gave strict order
(not without some check to her Treasurer) for the present payment of
the hundred pounds she first intended him.

He afterwards went over into _Ireland_, Secretary to the Lord _Gray_,
Lord Deputy thereof; and though that his Office under his Lord was
lucrative, yet got he no Estate; _Peculiari Poetis fato semper cum
paupertate conflictatus est_, saith the reverend _Cambden_; so that it
fared little better with him, (than with _Churchyard_ or _Tusser_
before him) or with _William Xiliander_ the _German_, (a most excellent
Linguist, Antiquary, Philosopher, and Mathematician) who was so poor,
that (as _Thuanus_ writes) he was thought, _Fami non famae scribere_.

Thriving so bad in that boggy Country, to add to his misery, he was
robb'd by the Rebels of that little he had left; whereupon, in great
grief, he returns into _England_, and falling into want, which to a
noble spirit is most killing, being heartbroken, he died _Anno_ 1598.
and was honourably buried at the sole charge of _Robert_, first of that
name Earl of _Essex_, on whose Monument is written this Epitaph.

Edmundus Spencer, _Londinensis, Anglicorum Poetarum nostri seculi
fuit Princeps, quod ejus Poemata, faventibus Musis, & victuro genio
conscripta comprobant. Obiit immatura morte, Anno salutis_,
1598. _& prope_ Galfredum Chaucerum _conditur, qui
scoelisissime Poesin Anglicis literis primus illustravit. In quem
haec scripta sunt Epitaphia._

_Hic prope_ Chaucerum _situs est_ Spenserius, _illi
Proximus ingenio, proximus ut tumulo.
Hic prope_ Chaucerum Spensere _poeta poetam
Conderis, & versu! quam tumulo proprior,
Anglica te vivo vixit, plausitque Poesis;
Nunc moritura timet, te moriente, mori_.

These two last lines, for the worthiness of the Poet, are thus
translated by Dr. _Fuller_.

Whilest thou didst live, liv'd English Poetry,
Which fears, now thou art dead, that she shall die.

A modern Author writes, that the Lord _Cecil_ owed Mr. _Spenser_ a
grudge for some Reflections of his in _Mother Hubbard's Tale_, and
therefore when the Queen had order'd him that Money, the Lord Treasurer
said, What all this for a Song? And this he is said to have taken so
much to heart, that he contracted a deep Melancholy, which soon after
brought his life to a period: so apt is an ingenious spirit to resent a
slighting even from the greatest persons. And thus much I must needs
say of the Merit of so great a Poet, from so great a Monarch, that it
is incident to the best of Poets sometimes to flatter some Royal or
Noble Patron, never did any do it more to the height, or with greater
art and elegance, if the highest of praises attributed to so Heroick a
Princess can justly be termed flattery.

* * * * *

Sir _JOHN HARRINGTON_.

Sir _John Harrington_ is supposed to be born in _Somerset-shire_, he
having a fair Estate near _Bath_ in that County. His Father, for
carrying a Letter to the Lady (afterwards Queen) _Elizabeth_, was kept
twelve months in the _Tower_, and made to spend a Thousand Pounds e're
he could be free of that trouble. His Mother also being Servant to the
Lady _Elizabeth_, was sequestred from her, and her Husband enjoyned not
to keep company with her; so that on both sides he may be said to be
very indear'd to Queen _Elizabeth_, who was also his Godmother, a
further tye of her kindness and respects unto him.

This Sir _John_ was bred up in _Cambridge_, either in _Christ_'s or in
St. _John_'s-Colledge, under Dr. _Still_ his Tutor. He afterwards
proved one of the most ingenious Poets of our _English_ Nation, no less
noted for his Book of witty Epigrams, than his judicious Translation of
_Ariosto's Orlando Furioso_, dedicated to the Lady _Elizabeth_,
afterwards Queen of _Bohemia_.

The _British_ Epigramatist, Mr. _John Owen_, in his second Book of
Epigrams, thus writes to him:

A Poet mean I am, yet of the Troop,
Though thou art not, yet better thou canst do't.

And afterwards in his fourth Book, _Epig._ 20. concerning Envy's
Genealogy; he thus complements him.

Fair Vertue, foul-mouth'd Envy breeds, and feeds;
From Vertue only this foul Vice proceeds;
Wonder not that I this to you indite,
'Gainst your rare Vertues, Envy bends her spite.

It happened that whilest the said Sir _John_ repaired often to an
Ordinary in _Bath_, a Female attendress at the Table, neglecting other
Gentlemen, which sat higher, and were of greater Estates, applied
herself wholly to him, accommodating him with all necessaries, and
preventing his asking any thing with her officiousness. She being
demanded by him, the reason of her so careful waiting on him? _I
understand_ (said she) _you are a very witty man, and if I should
displease you in any thing, I fear you would make an Epigram of me._

Sir _John_ frequenting often the Lady _Robert_'s House, his Wives
Mother, where they used to go to dinner extraordinary late, a Child of
his being there then, said _Grace_, which was that of the _Primmer,
Thou givest them Meat in due season_; Hold, said Sir _John_ to the
Child, you ought not to lie unto God, for here we never have our Meat
in due season. This Jest he afterwards turned into an Epigram,
directing it to his Wife, and concluding it thus:

Now if your Mother angry be for this,
Then you must reconcile us with a kiss.

A Posthume Book of his came forth, as an addition to Bishop _Godwin's
Catalogue of Bishops_, wherein (saith Dr. _Fuller_) besides mistakes,
some tart reflections in _Uxaratos Episcopos_, might well have been
spared. In a word (saith he) he was a Poet in all things, save in his
wealth, leaving a fair Estate to a learned and religious Son, and died
about the middle of the Reign of King _James_.

* * * * *

_JOHN HEYWOOD_.

This _John Heywood_ was one of the first writers of _English_ Plays,
contemporary with the Authors of _Gammar Gurton's Needle_, and _Tom
Tyler and his Wife_, as may appear by the Titles of his Interludes;
_viz._ The Play of Love; Play of the Weather; Play between _Johan_
the Husband, and _Tib_ his Wife; Play between the Pardoner and the
Fryer, and the Curate and Neighbour _Prat_; Play of Gentleness and
Nobility, in two parts. Besides these he wrote two Comedies, the
_Pinner of Wakefield_, and _Philotas_ _Scotch_. There was of this Name,
in King _Henry_ the Eighth's Reign, an Epigramatist, _who_, saith the
Author of the Art of _English_ Poetry, _for the mirth and quickness of
his conceits, more than any good learning was in him, came to be well
benefited by the King._

* * * * *

_THOMAS HEYWOOD_.

_Thomas Heywood_ was a greater Benefactor to the Stage than his
Namesake, _John Heywood_, aforesaid, he having (as you may read in an
Epistle to a Play of his, called, _The English Travellers_) had an
entire hand, or at least a main finger in the writing of 220 of them.
And no doubt but he took great pains therein, for it is said, that he
not only Acted himself almost every day, but also wrote each day a
Sheet; and that he might lose no time, many of his Plays were composed
in the Tavern, on the back-side of Tavern Bills; which may be an
occasion that so many of them are lost, for of those 220. mentioned
before, we find but 25. of them Printed, _viz. The Brazen Age_;
_Challenge for Beauty_; _The_ English _Travellers_; _The first and
second part of_ Edward _the Fourth_; _The first and second part of
Queen_ Elizabeth's _Troubles_; _Fair Maid of the West, first and second
part_; _Fortune by Land and Sea_; _Fair Maid of the Exchange_;
_Maidenhead well lost_; _Royal King and Loyal Subject_; _Woman kill'd
with kindess_; _Wise Woman of_ Hogsdon, Comedies. _Four_ London
_Prentices_; _The Golden Age_; _The Iron Age, first and second part_;
Robert _Earl of_ Huntington's _downfal_ Robert _Earl of_ Huntington's
_death_; _The Silver Age_; _Dutchess of_ Suffolk, Histories; _And
Loves Mistress_, a Mask. And, as if the Name of _Heywood_ were
destinated to the Stage, there was also one _Jasper Heywood_, who wrote
three Tragedies, namely, _Hercules Furiens_, _Thyestes_, and _Troas_.
Also, in my time I knew one _Matthew Heywood_; who wrote a Comedy,
called _The Changling_, that should have been acted at _Audley-end_
House, but, by I know not what accident was prevented.

* * * * *

_GEORGE PEEL_.

_George Peel_, a somewhat antiquated _English_ Bard of Queen
_Elizabeth_'s date, some remnants of whose pretty pastoral Poetry we
have extant in a Collection, entituled, _England's Helicon_. He also
contributed to the Stage three Plays, _Edward_ the first, a History;
_Alphonsus_, Emperour of _Germany_, a Tragedy; and _David_ and
_Bathsabe_ a Tragi-Comedy; which no doubt in the time he wrote passed
with good applause.

* * * * *

_JOHN LILLY_.

_John Lilly_, a famous Poet for the State in his time, as by the Works
which he left appears, being in great esteem in his time, and acted
then with great applause of the Vulgar, as such things which they
understood, and composed chiefly to make them merry. Yet so much prized
as they were Printed together in one Volume, namely, _Endymion_,
_Alexander and Campasoe_, _Galatea_, _Midas_, _Mother Boniby_, _Maids
Metamorphosis_, _Sapho and Phao_, _Woman in the Moon_, Comedies; and
another Play called _A Warning for fair Women_; all which declare the
great pains he took, and the esteem which he had in that Age.

* * * * *

_WILLIAM WAGER_.

This _William Wager_ is most famous for an Interlude which he wrote,
called _Tom Tyler and his Wife_, which passed with such general
applause that it was reprinted in the year 1661. and has been Acted
divers times by private persons; the chief Argument whereof is, _Tyler_
his marrying to a Shrew, which, that you may the better understand,
take it in the Author's own words, speaking in the person of _Tom
Tyler_.

I am a poor _Tyler_, in simple array,
And get a poor living, but eight pence a day,
My Wife as I get it doth spend it away;
And I cannot help it, she saith; wot ye why?
For wedding and hanging comes by destiny.
I thought when I wed her, she had been a Sheep,
At board to be friendly, to sleep when I sleep:
She loves so unkindly, she makes me to weep.
But I dare say nothing, god wot; wot ye why?
For wedding and hanging comes by destiny.
Besides this unkindness whereof my grief grows,
I think few _Tylers_ are matcht to such shrows,
Before she leaves brawling, she falls to deal blows.
Which early and late doth cause me to cry,
That wedding and hanging is destiny.
The more that I please her, the worse she doth like me,
The more I forbear her, the more she doth strike me,
The more that I get her, the more she doth glike me.
Wo worth this ill fortune that maketh me cry,
That wedding and hanging is deny.
If I had been hanged when I had been married,
My torments had ended, though I had miscarried,
If I had been warned, then would I have tarried;
But now all too lately I feel and cry,
That wedding and hanging is destiny.

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