Classic Poem

Enter the Funerall of M ONIFERRERS .

D'amville.

Set downe the Body. Pay Earth what shee lent.
But shee shall beare a liuing monument
To let succeeding ages truely know
That shee is satisfied what hee did owe,
Both principall and use; because his worth
Was better at his death then at his birth.

A dead march. Enter the Funerall of C HARLEMONT as a Souldier . D'am .

And with his Body place that memorie
Of noble Charlemont his worthie Sonne;
And giue their Graues the rites that doe belong
To Souldiers. They were Souldiers both. The Father
Held open warre with Sinne, the Sonne with bloud:
This in a warre more gallant, that more good.

The first volley. D'am .

There place their Armes, and here their Epitaphes
And may these Lines suruiue the last of graues.

The Epitaph of M ONIFERRERS .

Here lye the Ashes of that Earth and fire,
whose heat and fruit did feede and warme the poore!
And they (as if they would in sighes expire,
and into teares dissolue) his death deplore.
Hee did that good freely for goodnesse sake
unforc'd, for gen'rousnesse he held so deare
That hee fear'd but him that did him make
and yet he seru'd him more for loue then feare.
So's life prouided that though he did dye
A sodaine death, yet dyed not sodainely.

The Epitaph of C HARIEMONT .

His Body lies interr'd within this mould,
Who dyed a young man yet departed old,
And in all strength of youth that Man can haue
Was ready still to drop into his graue.
For ag'd in vertue, with a youthfull eye
He welcom'd it, being still prepar'd to dye
And liuing so, though young depriu'd of breath
He did not suffer an untimely death,
But we may say of his braue bless'd decease
He dyed in warre, and yet hee dyed in peace.

The second volley. D'am .

O might that fire reuiue the ashes of
This Phenix! yet the wonder would not be
So great as he was good, and wondered at
For that. His liues example was so true
A practique of Religion's Theorie
That her Diuinitie seem'd rather the
Description then th' instruction of his life
And of his goodness was his vertuous Sonne
A worthy imitatour. So that on
These two Herculean pillars where their armes
Are plac'd there may be writ Non ultra . For
Beyond their liues, as well for youth as age,
Nor young nor old, in merit or in name,
Shall e'er exceede their vertues or their fame.

The third volley.

'Tis done. Thus faire accomplements make foule
Deedes gratious. Charlemont, come now when th' wilt
I'ue buryed under these two marble stones
Thy liuing hopes, and thy dead father's bones.

Enter C ASTABELLA mourning to the monument of C HARIEMONT . Casta .

O thou that knowest me iustly Charlemont's,
Though in the forc'd possession of another.
Since from thine owne free spirit wee receiue it
That our affections cannot be compel'd
Though our actions may, be not displeas'd if on
The altar of his Tombe I sacrifice
My teares. They are the iewels of my loue
Dissolued into griefe, and fall upon
His blasted Spring, as Aprill dewe upon
A sweet young blossome shak'd before the time.

Enter C HARIEMONT with a S ERUANT . Charl .

Goe see my Truncks disposed of. I'll but walk
A turne or two i' th' Church and follow you.

O! here's the fatall monument of my
Dead Father first presented to mine eye.
What's here? — " In memory of Charlemont?"
Some false relation has abus'd beliefe.
I am deluded. But I thanke thee, Heauen.
For euer let me be deluded thus.
My Castabella mourning o'er my Hearse?
Sweete Castabella, rise. I am not dead, Casta .
O heauen defend mee! Charl .

I — Beshrew my rash
And inconsid'rate passion — Castabella!
That could not thinke — my Castabella! — that
My sodaine presence might affright her sense. —
I prithee (my affection) pardon mee.
Reduce thy understanding to thine eye.
Within this habite, which thy misinform'd
Conceipt takes onely for a shape, liue both
The soule and body of thy Charlemont. Casta .
I feele a substance warme, and soft, and moist,
Subiect to the capacitie of sense. Charl .
Which Spirits are not; for their essence is
Aboue the nature and the order of
Those Elements whereof our senses are
Created. Touch my lip. Why turn'st thou from mee? Cast .
Griefe aboue griefes! That which should woe releiue
Wish'd and obtain'd, giues greater cause to grieue. Charl .
Can Castabella thinke it cause of griefe
That the relation of my death proues false? Casta .
The presence of the person wee affect,
Being hopelesse to enjoy him, makes our griefe
More passionate than if wee saw him not. Charl .
Why not enjoy? Has absence chang'd thee? Casta .
Yes.
From maide to wife. Charl .
Art marryed? Casta .
O! I am. Charl .
Married? — Had not my mother been a woman
I should protest against the chastitie
Of all thy sexe. How can the Marchant or
The Marriners absent whole yeares from wiues
Experienc'd in the satisfaction of
Desire, promise themselues to finde their sheetes
Unspotted with adultery at their
Returne, when you that neuer had the sense
Of actuall temptation could not stay
A few short months? Casta .
O! doe but heare me speake. Charl .
But thou wert wise, and didst consider that
A Souldier might be maim'd, and so perhaps
Lose his habilitie to please thee. Casta .
No.
That weaknes pleases me in him I haue. Char .
What, marryed to a man unable too?
O strange incontinence! Why, was thy bloud
Increas'd to such a pleurisie of lust,
That of necessitie there must a veyne
Be open'd, though by one that had no skill
To doe 't? Casta .
Sir, I beseech you heare me. Charl .
Speake. Casta .
Heau'n knowes I am unguiltie of this act Charl .
Why? Wert thou forc'd to doe't? Casta .
Heau'n knowes I was. Charl .
What villaine did it? Casta .
Your Uncle D'amville.
And he that dispossess'd my loue of you
Hath disinherited you of possession. Charl .
Disinherited? wherein haue I deseru'd
To be depriu'd of my deare Father's loue? Casta .
Both of his loue and him. His soule's at rest;
But here your injur'd patience may behold
The signes of his lamented memorie.

C HARLEMONT findes his Father's Monument .

H's found it. When I tooke him for a Ghoast
I could endure the torment of my feare
More eas'ly than I can his sorrowes heare. Charl .

Of all men's griefes must mine be singular?
Without example? Heere I met my graue.
And all men's woes are buried i' their graues
But mine. In mine my miseries are borne.
I prithee sorrow leaue a little roome
In my confounded and tormented mind
For understanding to deliberate
The cause or author of this accident —
A close aduantage of my absence made
To dispossesse me both of land and wife,
And all the profit does arise to him
By whom my absence was first mou'd and urg'd.
These circumstances, Uncle, tell me you
Are the suspected author of those wrongs,
Whereof the lightest is more heauie then
The strongest patience can endure to beare.