Signes death to all, her selfe can never dye.
And now thy purple-robed_ Tragoedie,
_In her imbroiderd Buskins, calls mine eye,
Where brave_ Atëius _we see betrayed, [-Valentinian-]
T'obey his Death, whom thousand lives obeyed;
Whilst that the_ Mighty Foole _his Scepter breakes,
And through his_ Gen'rals _wounds his owne dooms speaks,
Weaving thus richly_ Valentinian
_The costliest Monarch with the cheapest man.
Souldiers may here to their old glories adde_, [-The Mad Lover.-]
The Lover _love, and be with reason_ mad:
_Not as of old_, Alcides _furious,
Who wilder then his Bull did teare the house,
(Hurling his Language with the Canvas stone)
'Twas thought the Monster roar'd the sob'rer Tone.
But ah, when thou thy sorrow didst inspire [-Tragi-comedies.-]
With Passions, blacke as is her darke attire,
Virgins as_ Sufferers _have wept to see [-Arcas.-]
So white a Soule, so red a Crueltie; [-Bellario.-]
That thou hast grieved, and with unthought redresse,
Dri'd their wet eyes who now thy mercy blesse;
Yet loth to lose thy watry Jewell, when [-Comedies.-]
Joy wip't it off, Laughter straight sprung't agen.
[-The Spanish Curate.-]
Now ruddy-cheeked_ Mirth _with Rosie wings,
Fanns ev'ry brow with gladnesse, whilest she sings
[-The Humorous Lieutenant.-]
Delight to all, and the whole Theatre
A Festivall in Heaven doth appeare:
Nothing but Pleasure, Love, and (like the Morne) [-The Tamer Tam'd.-]