scorn :

their own,

Till now, in reverence I have forborn

Solym. Monsters yet be, and being are beTo ask, or to presume to guess, or know

lieved. My father's thoughts; whereof he might think Cam. Incredible hath some inordinate pro

gression : For dreadful is that power that all may do; Blood, doctrine, age, corrupting liberty, Yet they, that all men fear, are fearful too. Do all concur, where men such monsters be. Lo where he sits! Virtue, work thou in me, Pardon me, Sir, if duty do seem angry: That what thou seekest may accomplish'd be. Affection must breathe out afflicted breath, Solym. Ah death! is not thyself sufficient Where imputation hath such easy faith. anguish,

Soly in. Mustapha is he that hath defil'd his But thou must borrow fear, that threatning glass,

nest; Which, while it goodness hides, and mischief'shows, The wrong the greater for I loved him best. Doth lighten wit to honor's overthrows ?

He hath devised that all at once should die. But hush! methinks away Camena steals; Rosten, and Rossa, Zanger, thou, and I. Murther, belike, in me itself reveals.

Cam. Fall none but angels suddenly to hell? Camena! whither now? why haste you from me? Are kind and order grown precipitate? Is it so strange a thing to be a father?

Did ever any other man but he Or is it I that am so strange a father ?

In instant lose the use of doing well ? Cam. My Lord, methought, nay, sure I saw Sir, these be mists of greatness. Look again : you busy:

For kings that, in their fearful icy state, Your child presumes, uncall'd, that comes unto you. Behold their children as their winding-sheet, Solym. Who may presume with fathers, but Do easily doubt; and what they doubt, they hate.

Solym.

Camena! thy sweet youth, that Whom nature's law hath ever in protection,

knows no ill, And gilds in good belief of dear affection?

Cannot believe thine elders, when they say, Cam. Nay, reverence, Sir, so children's That good belief is great estates' decay. worth doth hide,

Let it suffice, that I, and Rossa too, As of the fathers it is least espy'd.

Are privy what your brother means to do. Solym. I think 'tis true, who know their

Cam. Sir, pardon me, and nobly as a father, children least,

What I shall say, and say of holy mother; Have greatest reason to esteem them best.

Know I shall say it, but to right a brother. Cam. How so, my lord ? since love in

My mother is your wife: duty in her knowledge lives,

Is love: she loves : which not well govern'd, bears Which unto strangers therefore no man gives.

The evil angel of misgiving fears; Solym. The life we gave them soon they whose many eyes, whilst but itself they see, do forget,

Still makes the worst of possibility: While they think our lives do their fortunes let.

Out of this fear she Mustapha accuseth: Cam. The tenderness of life it is so great,

Unto this fear, perchance, she joins the love As any sign of death we hate too much ;

Which doth in mothers for their children move. And unto parents sons, perchance, are such.

Perchance, when fear hath shew'd her yours Yet nature meant her strongest unity

must fall, Twixt sons and fathers; making parents cause

In love she sees that hers must rise withall. Unto the sons, of their humanity;

Sir, fear a frailty is, and may have grace,
And children pledge of their eternity.

And over - care of you cannot be blamed;
Fathers should love this image in their sons.
Solym. But streams back to their springs Passions are oft mistaken and misnamed;

Care of our own in nature hath a place;
do never run.

Things simply good grow evil with misplacing. Cam. Pardon, my lord, doubt is succes

Though laws cut off, and do not care to fashion, sion's foe :

Humanity of error hath compassion. Let not her mists poor children overthrow. Though streams from springs do seem to run away Should ruin those that true and faultless are.

Yet God forbid, that either fear, or care 'Tis nature leads them to their mother sea. Solym. Doth nature teach them, in ambi

Solym. Is it no fault, or fault I may forgive, tion's strife,

For son to seek the father should not live? To seek his death, by whom they have their life? Cam. Is it a fault, or fault for you to know,

Cam. Things easy, to desireimpossible do seem: My mother doubts a thing that is not so? Why should fear make impossible seem easy? These ugly works of monstrous parricide,

.

Mark from what hearts they rise, and where! Laws did enquire, the answer must be grace. they bide:

If mercy be so large, where's justice' place? Violent, despair'd, where honor broken is ;

Cam. Where love despairs, and where God's Fear lord , time death; where hope is misery;

promise ends. Doubt having stopt all honest ways to bliss; For mercy is the highest reach of wit, And custom shut the windows up of shame

A safety unto them that save with it, That craft may take upon her wisdom's name. Born out of God, and unto human eyes, Compare now Mustapha with this despair:

Like God, not seen, till fleshly passion dies. Sweet youth, sure hopes, honor, a father's love,

Solym. God may forgive, whose being , and No infamy to move, or banish fear,

whose harms Honor to stay, hazard to hasten fate: Can horrors work in such a child's estate?

Are far removed from reach of fleshly arms Besides, the gods, whom kings should imitate,

But if God equals or successors had,

Even God of safe revenges would be glad.
Have placed you high to rule, not overthow;
For us, not for yourselves, is your estate:

Cam. While he is yet alive, he may be slain; Mercy must hand in hand with power go.

But from the dead no flesh comes back again. Your sceptre should not strike with arms of fear, Solym. While he remains alive, I live in fear. Which fathoms all men's imbecility,

Cam. Though he were dead, that doubt still And mischief doth, lest it should mischief bear.

living were. As reason deals within with frailty, Which kills not passions that rebellious are,

Solym. None hath the power to end what

he begun. But adds, subtracts, keeps down ambitious spirits, So must power form, not ruin instruments;

Cam. The same occasion follows every son. For flesh and blood, the means 'twixt heav'n Solym. Their greatness, or their worth, is and hell,

not so much. Unto extremes extremely racked be;

Cam. And shall the best be slain for being such? Which kings in art of government should see: Solym. Thy mother, or thy brother, are amiss; Else they, which circle in themselves with death, I am betrayed, and one of them it is Poison the air wherein they draw their breath. Cam. My mother if she errs, errs virtuously; Pardon, my lord, pity becomes my sex: And let her err, ere Mustapha should die. Grace with delay grows weak, and fury wise. Solym. Kings for their safety must not blame Remember Theseus' wish, and Neptune's haste,

mistrust. Kill'd innocence and left succession waste.

Cam. Nor for surmises sacrifice the just. Solym. If what were best for them that do Solym. Well, dear Camena, keep this secretly: offend,

I will be well advised before he die.

Southwell.

Robert Southwell ward 1560 zu St. Faith in Norfolk geboren und im englischen Collegium zu Douay in Flandern erzogen. Im Jahre 1576 ging er nach Rom, trat daselbst in die Gesellschaft Jesu und kehrte dann als Missionnair nach England zurück, in der Absicht den Fortschritten der Reformation entgegen zu arbeiten. Seine Bemühungen wurden jedoch, wie er selbst klagt, nicht mit Erfolg gekrönt und er lebte in seinem eignen Vaterlande gleich einem Fremdling unter Fremden. 1592 ward er angeblich wegen Verschwörung, im Tower eingekerkert, und dort drei Jahr lang festgehalten und wiederholt auf die Folter gespannt und endlich am 20. Februar 1595 wegen Hochverrath hingerichtet. Er erlitt den Tod mit standhafter Ruhe und Unerschrockenheit.

Seine Gedichte, sämmtlich religiösen Inhaltes, erschienen in folgenden verschiedenen Sammlungen: St. Peter's Complaint and St. Mary Magdalen’s Funeral Teares with sundry other selected and devout Poems; Maeoniae or certain excellent Poems and spirituals Hymns; The Triumphs over Death und erlebten ausserordentlich viele Auflagen. Ein tiefes religiöses Gefühl, das sich oft zur Begeisterung steigert, Innigkeit, Phantasie, Kraft und edle Diction, verleihen ihnen, abgesehen von der Beschränktheit der Richtung dieses Dichters, keinen geringen Werth.

Daniel.

Samuel Daniel, der Sohn eines Musiklehrers, ward 1562 in der Nähe von Taunton geboren und erhielt durch die Unterstützung der Gräfin Pembroke eine gelehrte Erziehung. Nachdem er seine Studien zu Oxford vollendet, wurde er Erzieher der Lady Anna Clifford und dann Hofpoet (Poet Laureat) der Königin Elisabeth, was ihm jedoch Nichts eintrug. Nach ihrem Tode erhielt er das Amt eines Kammerdieners bei der Gemahlin Jacobs I. Später zog er sich auf das Land zurück und starb daselbst im October 1619. Seine gesammelten Werke wurden von seinem Bruder, London 1623, 1 Bd. in 4. herausgegeben und sind später neu aufgelegt worden u. A. London 1718, 2 Bde. in 12. Sie enthalten: The Complaint of Rosamond (57 Sonnette), Letter of Octavia to Mark Anthony; Hymen's Triumph und the Queens Arcadia (zwei Schäferdramen), Cleopatra und Philotas (zwei Trauerspiele) Musophilus (ein didactisches Gedicht), the History of the Civil Wars (ein episches Gedicht, den Kampf zwischen York und Lancaster schildernd) und vermischte Gedichte. Daniel ist als Dichter correct, elegant und oft gefühlvoll und natürlich, aber auch trocken, gesucht und künstelnd und der Form nicht selten den Inhalt opfernd.

To the Ladie Margaret, Countesse of

Cumberland.

He that of such a height hath built his minde, And rear'd the dwelling of his thoughts so strong,

As neither feare nor hope can shake the frame
Of his resolved pow'rs, nor all the winde
Of vanitie or malice pierce to wrong
His setled peace, or to disturbe the same;
What a faire seate hath he, from whence he

may

He sees the face of right t' appeare as manifolde

Who puts it in all colours, all attires,

As are the passions of uncertaine man,

To serve his ends and make his courses holde:
He sees, that let deceit worke what it can,
Plot and contrive base wayes to high desires,
That the all-guiding Providence doth yet
All disappoint, and mocks this smoake of wit.

summe

you know

neare

To great expecting hopes, he lookes thereon But worke beyond their yeeres, and even denie
As from the shore of peace with unwet eie, Dotage her rest, and hardly will dispence
And beares no venture in impietie.

With death: that when ability expires,

Desire lives still: so much delight they have Thus, madam, fares that man that hath To carry toyle and travell to the grave.

prepar'd A rest for his desires, and sees all things

Whose ends you see, and what can be the Beneath him, and hath learn'd this booke of

best man,

They reach unto, when they have cast the Full of the notes of frailty and compar'd The best of glory with her sufferings,

And reckonings of their glory,

and By whom I see you labour all you can

This floting life hath but this port of rest, To plant your heart, and set your thoughts as A heart prepar'd, that feares no ill to come:

And that mans greatnesse rests but in his show, His glorious mansion as your pow'rs can beare. The best of all whose dayes consumed are

Either in warre, or peace conceiving warre. Which, madam, are so soundly fashioned By that cleere judgement that hath carryed you This concord , madame, of a well - tun'd Beyond the feeble limits of your kinde,

minde As they can stand against the strongest head Hath beene so set, by that all-working hand Passion can make, inur'd to any hue

Of Heaven, that though the world hath done his The world can cast, that cannot cast that minde

worst Out of her forme of goodnesse, that doth see To put it out, by discords most unkinde Both what the best and worst of earth can be. Yet doth it still in perfect union stand

With God and man, nor ever will be forc't Which makes, that whatsoever here befalles From that most sweet accord, but still agree You in the region of your selfe remaine, Equall in fortunes inequalitie. Where no vaine breath of th' impudent molests, That hath secur'd within the brasen walles

And this note (madame) of your worthinesse Of a cleere conscience, that without all staine Remaines recorded in so many hearts, Rises in peace, in innocencie rests,

As time nor malice cannot wrong your right Whilst all what Malice from without procures,

In th' inheritance of fame you must possesse Shewes her owne ougly heart, but hurts not You that have built you by your great deserts,

yours.

Out of small meanes, a farre more exquisit

And glorious dwelling for your honoured name And whereas none rejoyce more in revenge Then all the gold that leaden minds can frame. Then women use to doe, yet you well know, That wrong is better checkt, by being contemn'd Then being pursu'd leaving to him t'avenge To whom it appertaines; wherein you show How worthily your cleerenesse hath condemn'd

To Henry Wriothesly, Earle of Base Malediction, living in the darke,

Southampton. That at the raies of goodnesse still doth barke.

He who hath never warr'd with miserie, Knowing the heart of man is set to be Nor ever tugg'd with fortune and distresse The centre of this world, about the which Hath had n'occasion nor no field to trie These revolutions of disturbances

The strength and forces of his worthinesse: Still roule, where all th' aspects of miserie Those parts of judgement which felicitie Predominate, whose strong effects are such Keepes as conceal’d, affliction must expresse As he must beare, being pow’rlesse to redresse; And onely men shew their abilities, And that unlesse above himselfe he can

And what they are, in their extremities. Erect himselfe, how poore a thing is man!

The world had never taken so full note And how turmoyi'd they are, that levell lie Of what thou art, hadst thou not beene undone, With earth, and cannot lift theemselves from And onely thy affliction hath begot

thense

More fame, then thy best fortunes could have That never are at peace with their desires,

done;