An elogie, and epitaph, consecrated to the ever sacred memory of that most illustrious, and incomparable monarch, Charles, by the grace of God, of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, late King, &c. Together with an elogy and epitaph upon the truely lamented death of that excellent patterne of perfect magnanimity, virtue, valour, and loyalty, Arthur Lord Capell. With some streames of remembrance issued from the bloods of his noble fellow-sufferers, Duke Hamilton, and Henry Earle of Holland. / By F.H. Philomusus. F. H. 1649 Approx. 17 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 8 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2011-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 2). A86488 Wing H25 Thomason E554_1 ESTC R2265 99871807 99871807 165077

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A86488) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 165077) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 85:E554[1]) An elogie, and epitaph, consecrated to the ever sacred memory of that most illustrious, and incomparable monarch, Charles, by the grace of God, of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, late King, &c. Together with an elogy and epitaph upon the truely lamented death of that excellent patterne of perfect magnanimity, virtue, valour, and loyalty, Arthur Lord Capell. With some streames of remembrance issued from the bloods of his noble fellow-sufferers, Duke Hamilton, and Henry Earle of Holland. / By F.H. Philomusus. F. H. [2], 10 p. s.n.], [London? : Printed in the yeare, 1649. In verse. Place of publication conjectured by Wing. Annotation on Thomason copy: "May 7th". Reproduction of the original in the British Library.

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 eng Charles -- I, -- King of England, 1600-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Capel of Hadham, Arthur Capel, -- Baron, 1610?-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. 2020-09-21 Content of 'availability' element changed when EEBO Phase 2 texts came into the public domain 2010-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2010-03 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2010-04 Sampled and proofread 2010-04 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2011-06 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

Ad illum

Per Hanc

Ab Istac

man lying on bed

AN ELOGIE, AND EPITAPH, Conſecrated to the ever Sacred Memory of that moſt ILLUSTRIOUS, and Incomparable MONARCH, CHARLES, By the Grace of God, of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, late King, &c.

Together with an Elogy and Epitaph upon the truely lamented death of that Excellent patterne of perfect Magnanimity, Virtue, Valour, and Loyalty, Arthur Lord Capell.

With ſome ſtreames of remembrance iſſued from the bloods of his Noble Fellow-ſufferers, Duke Hamilton, and Henry Earle of Holland.

By F. H. Philomuſus.

Printed in the Yeare, 1649.
An Elogie and Epitaph, &c. 1 HOwle, howle, diſtracted Kingdome, let thy cryes Like Dragons roarings, terrifie the earth, Amaze the Heavens, fright Hell, and darke the skyes; For now thy throwes have iſſued a curſed birth: Let the Sun bluſh, and all the trembling ſtarres Refraine beſpangling of their moving Spheares, Untill they ſee the termine of our jarres; Let this, of all, be deleated from yeeres, Leſt in't the guilt of King-ſhed ſacred bloud. Increaſe t' a torrent, period in a floud. 2 O could we ſee the depth of our diſtreſſe With Linxceys eyes! it would torment our ſoules: All Rhetorique's dumbe, our anguiſh to expreſſe, Horror our mourning, feare our teares controules; Th'imminent judgements and impetuous ſtormes Hov'ring in vengeance ore our hardned Nation, Makes zeale for woe, rave in prepoſterous formes, And ſtretch our heart-ſtrings on the Racke of paſſion, Whil'ſt bleeding ſoules, in ſtead of dropping eyes Bedewes the foot-ſteps to our miſeries. 3 Rent, rent your hearts, your garments are defil'd Ye trayterous Nation, with your deare Kings bloud; Whil'ſt th'hopefull branches of his root exil'd, Adds a full ſea to our afflictions floud: Ye have betray'd a gratious King to death Ye murtherous varlets, by your baſe revolt From th' Diadem to th' dunghill, could the breath, That nine yeares ſince his glory did exalt Unto the Heavens, with curſed yealps now cry, Give us theſe Barrabbeſſes? let our Soveraigne die. 4 Buſiris like, ye murderers did ye dreame, Heaven would raine peace f •• this ſtrange Sacrifice? Ye ſhould have let your owne ours'd bloods to ſtreame, And quench'd the flame of all our miſeries: But he in Lamb-like ſufferings hath wrought More then Herculian conqueſt o're your rage, Though with the deare price of his blood y' have bought England th' Aceldama; your dreadfull ſtage, Whereon y'have acted ſuch a Tragedy, Nero had wept, had he but liv'd to ſee: 5 Had he by Schythians, or a ruder hand, Been raviſh'd from us to his Crowne of glory, Reaſon might o're our paſſions claime command, Becauſe their natures yielde their acts a ſtory: But for a Tribe of Hypocrites to lurke Under the wings of Zeale and Reformation, Till they had finiſh'd Satans maſter-worke, And ruin'd all the Bulworks of our Nation: Thus making God, whoſe Soule abhorres all evills, Seeme to command thoſe acts proclaime them Divells. 6 Trembled yee not, yee Furies, for to ſee When yee conven'd, ſuch reverence in his face? Such high deportment, ſacred Majeſty, Such radiant Luſter, and ſuch awefull Grace? No, no, thriving Rebellion's mov'd no more With ſuch transfixions, then a flint with teares; But their deſire to wallow in his goare Have proved them ſuch, nor God nor Devill feares; But in contempt of both, have challeng'd all The powers of VENGEANCE on their heads to fall. 7 Yee viperous broode, who with your ſubtill teeth, Unſeene, have gnawne through th'bowels of our State: Thinke yee REVENGE with REGICIDE agreeth? Or Kingdome ruines can ſhake hands with hate? Thinke yee the extirpation of a Race Divinely Royall, can eſtabliſh Peace? Or ſeat rude Traytors in our Princes place? Or blood can fill our garners with increaſe? No, no, VENGEANCE but writes in theſe red letters How much to Hell, and torment ye are debters. 8 But Reader, leſt our ſorrows and exclaims Should ſeeme for one whoſe graces are forgot, Becauſe Rebellion tooke ſuch tedious pains His ſpotleſſe ſoule, with helliſh guilt to blot: Though language faulter, and our Contemplation Reach but the Idea of his bleſt perfection; Yet let our groans disburthen's of ſome paſſion; Communicating Mourners (Sans exception) May clap a plaudit, to th' eternall Fame Of him, whoſe exit ſeal'd our laſting ſhame. 9 Would yee have Heaven in a choice Cabinet Treaſure her richeſt graces up in ſtore▪ For a ſelected people to be ſet In th' Arke of their affections? he was more, For the continued fire of Divine ZEALE, For his Redeemers glory did inflame The darkeſt angles of our Common-weale; He was a burning Light, whoſe ſhining Fame Made ENGLAND ſeeme, once, as ſhe had conſpir'd With radiant truth▪ the world t' have wholly fir'd. 10 RELIGION was enhaunc'd to ſuch a price In his eſteeme, 't ſeem'd as Devotion had Been onely moulded by his exerciſe, (To make the ZEALOUS-HEARTED truly glad:) Nor onely in a Cell his piety, Gave life to th' hou • es of his well ſpent dayes; But in the Temple of the Diety, He oft proclaimed his Creatours praiſe: So fervent in, of prayer, ſo rich a prizer, As earth had had no other Sacrificer. 11 Have ye obſerv'd the curling Maine to treaſure Each Rivers Off-ſpring in her ſpacious wombe, Rendring to every Fountaine her juſt meaſure, Making her ſelfe againe their tributes tombe; So did this Sea of wiſedome ſtill receive Th'iſſuing Rivolets of ingenious ſtore, Nor did he by retention thus bereave Them of their wealth, but rendred foure fold more, To each ſmall Spring that ſtream'd pure waters forth, Yet ſtill reſerv'd's owne inexhauſtine worth. 12 The Arts in him conſpired to erect A laſting fabrick to eternity, Whoſe concave did containe the true effect Of the moſt abſolute ACADEMIE: Had ye obſerv'd, this Mirour did preſent The Sciences in an EPITOMIE; Or rather't ſeem'd they had beene onely ſent From him to borrow light and dignity; Each Science ſerving but t' attend and doe Thoſe Acts that his perfection prompt them to. 13 So highly Gods pure worſhip did he tender, That in his lateſt exigent of breath He prov'd himſelfe our ſaving faiths Defender, By ſigning with his blood 'ts reprieve from death; Still David-like in valour he appear'd, And in his troubles Job and David too, For Patient Magnanimity, y' have heard, Were perfect patterns of his tedious woe, Who SAMPSON like, drownd in his laſt ſpilt goare Thouſands of ſoules, that laugh'd at's greefe before. 14 Now ſnarle accurſed ENVIE, let thy gall Burſt with thy Venome, for this object will Rebound thy blunt aſpertions, like a wall Of Adamant, (thy meager ſoule to kill:) And when the Armies of our Nation ſhall Diſclaime to treaſure, with his glory, our ſhame, His glories tryumph in our fatall fall, T' eternity ſhall ſtill preſerve his Fame: For death hath murder'd in this cruel ſtroke Three Kingdomes Honours, and their Baſis broke. 15 Reſt ſacred Mattyr, whoſe bleſt Temples are Crown'd with the glory of thy SAVIOURS merit, And let theſe Traytors for thy Scepter jarre, Whilſt thou a heavenly Kingdome do'ſt inherit; And though we languiſh in a dying life. Yet may thy Royal Off-ſpring be preſerv'd From being butcher'd on our ſtage of ſtrife, (More ſwift to urge our vengeance, juſt deſerv'd,) And whilſt the woes of REGICIDES increaſe, May thy blood be our Sacrifice of peace.
EPITAPH. Reader, here lies three Kingdomes Peace, Their Honours, plenty, and increaſe▪ Religion, Learning, Faith, Law, Grace, Are all inſhrin'd in this ſmall place; One accurs'd Inſtrument of wrath and woe, Made three brave Kingdomes headleſſe with a blow. FINIS.
An ELOGIE, and EPITAPH upon ARTHUR Lord CAPELL. WRetched'ſt of Kingdomes, late the world admir'd Thy glorious Luſtre, State, magnificence, Untill prepoſtrous ZEALE thy brambles fir'd. Whoſe rage hath ruin'd all thy excellence; Thus Heaven we ſee when Kingdomes but augment, Their ſinnes appeare, or plenties doe increaſe, (And with choyce mercies their baſe luſts foment) Can change th'abuſed benefits of peace Into continued judgements, as Heaven woo'd Drownd's in a deluge of our nobleſt blood. 2 Suffic'd it not your thirſt (ye hell-fir'd ſoules) T' have drunke the dregs of wrath in your Kings gore? But muſt ye quaffe damnations healths in bowles Of our Peeres blood, t'intoxicate ye more? Feed ye upon our poore like bread, and will Nought ſurfet ye? nor Prince, nor peoples meanes? Muſt Lords eſtates your Idoll panches fill? Can Heaven deſigne's no plagues but theſe extreames? No, no, tis juſt that Tyranny and Hate Should feed on people ripened in debate. 3 Me thinks it ſeemes a wonder ye ſhould thirſt After ye have drunke the Royall fountayne dry: But oh! that blood exaſperates your curs't Inſatiate drought; whoſe rage will never die Whil'ſt ſtreames of noble tincture flow in vaines Of chryſtall, t'out ſhine yours of Stygian hue; Your ſoules though di'd with Regicidiall ſtaines, Muſt be redrench'd in blood of Worthies too, And leſt ſwift vengeance ſeize ye on lifes ſhore, Yee'l ſwim to hell ore ſeas of noble goare. 4 But ſay, (ye ENGINEERS of TORMENT, why Deviſe yee plagues to languiſh us to death? Could yee not (asCali gula. ROMES TYRANT wiſh'd) once tye Our vaſſal • d necks to one fierce ſtroake of death? Though yee becharm'd us to believe our woe For chiefeſt good, yet when we ſee ye teare The Limbs from the falne Cedar, we muſt ſhew The world your falſhoods in our trembling feare; But vengeance will not ſpare that blaſpemie Which makes Heaven ſeeme t' approve curſt cruelty. 5 Can neither cries of Widdows, nor the teares Of tender Orphans, not the dreadfull groanes Of three ſad Kingdomes pierce your deafned eares? Will ye not heare the Priſoners ruefull moanes? The cries of blood have peirc't the Firmament, And vengeance ſlumbereth not, ye brands of ire, TOPHET'S prepar'd of old, not as ye meant For glorious CHARLES, nor CAPELL, but with fire Eternally to torture thoſe that ſell Kings and Peeres bloods to purchaſe Thrones in Hell. 6 Readers, perchance now ye expect to know Why we amaze the world with our exclaimes; And whence thoſe torrents of dire paſſions flow, That theſe ſad dirge-ſtrains powerfully proclaimes? Did not the flames of Zeale for our late loſſe Extract the quint'ſence of all anxious teares? That ruine quite transform'd our joyes to droſſe, And this our hopes to agravated feares; Ruine ſaid I? no, CHARLES and CAPELLS name Reſts crown'd with glory, but their Foes with ſhame. 7 He whom we now lament earth equals not, in him Valour, and Fortitude, feem'd both to place Their choiſe demenſions in his every Limb, Which his Zeale manag'd with HEROICK grace; Prudence but uſher'd his accompliſhments, And though blinde fortune, him betray'd to th'hate Of a perfidious enemy, 's in tents Proclaim'd him Victor in his captive ſtate; Who in his lateſt exigent of breath, Conquer'd his murdters in outbraving death. 8 Nor here expect our griefes ſhould entertaine Their Worths,Hamilton and Holland. as th' honor'd loſſe we chiefely waile, Though with their bloods th' have purified the ſtaine Of their diſloyalty; true, fleſh is fraile, Nor therefore ſhall black obloquy cloud or'e Their redeem'd Honours; but joynt ſuffering ſhall Write their eternall glory with the goare That ſtream'd from CAPELL in's HEROICK fall; Religion, King, Lawes.For one true Martyr in that * three fold cauſe May render three brave exits their applauſe. 9 You whoſe afflicted ſoules doe merrit here True Crownes of Patience, O remember how This conſtant preſident did ſtill appeare Glorious in Tryals, crown'd with glory now; Let not baſe feare of Tyranny and Rage Betray your Honours to a laſting ſhame, Their Tragick Tryumphs but their woes preſage, Which will increaſe, as your eternall Fame: Your blood's ſo ſpilt moſt potently invoke Your Mercies, whilſt REVENGE prepares their ſtroake. 10 Ceaſe, ceaſe your mournings, ye indulgent ſoules; Give not occaſion to thoſe inſolent To tryumph whilſt your paſſions hope controules, Teares now ſeeme ſtream'd from inward diſcontent At his eternall happineſſe (the Sunne Appears moſt radiant ſtill before a ſhowre) But if your ſorrowes in a full ſtreame runne, 'T may cloud his luſtre, and augment the power Of petulency, deluge like t' o'reflow His honours Pillar in their flood of woe. 11 Reſt, reſt, Renowned Martyr, whilſt we praiſe Gods power that in thy conſtancy appear'd; Thy vertues thee a Pyramid ſhall raiſe, Whil'ſt Tyrants of their ſhadowes are affeard, Thou who haſt ſacrific'd thy well-ſpent life, For God and King, with them art crown'd in glory, May thy bleſt Off-ſpring and thy fruitfull Wife, Joy to contemplate on thy honour'd ſtory; And may thy blood, or prove a drench to purge Thy Murderers mallice, or their ruines urge.
EPITAPH. Grace, Valour, Magnanimity, Zeale, Fortitude, Faith, Loyalty. Choſe this true HEROE here inſhrin'd, To be their Champion, he whoſe minde Vanquiſh'd the power of Tyranny and rage, Defying death upon's owne tragicke Stage, And though his Murderers on his ſuffrings fed, They drunke their bane when's innocency bled. FINIS.