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THE MOST HONOURED,

AND VIRTUOUS BEAUTIFIED LADY,

THE LADY ELIZABETH CAREY.

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XCELLENT accomplished court-glorifying lady! give me leave with the sportive sea-porpoises preludiately to play a little before the storm of my tears, to make my prayer ere I proceed to my sacrifice. Lo, for an oblation to the rich burnished shrine of your virtue! a handful of Jerusalem's mummanized' earth (in a few sheets of waste paper inwrapped), I here, humiliate, offer up at your feet. More embellished should my present be, were my ability more abundant. Your illustrate Ladyship, ere this, I am persuaded, hath beheld a bad flourish with a text pen; all my performance herein is no better. I doubt you will condemn it for worse. Wit hath his dregs as well as wine, divinity his dross. Expect some tars in the Treatise of Tears. Far unable are my dim osprey eyes to look clearly against the sun of God's truth. An easy matter is it for any man to cut me, like a diamond, with mine own dust.

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A young imperfect practitioner am I in Christ's school: Christ accepteth the will for the deed: weak are my deeds, great is my

1 Sic. in Orig.

will. O that our deeds only should be seen, and our will die invisible! Long hath my intended will, renowned Madam, been addressed to adore you: but words to that my resolved will were negligent servants. My woe-infirmed wit conspired against me with my fortune; my impotent care-crazed style cast off his light wings, and betook him to wooden stilts; all agility it forgot, and graveled itself in gross-brained formality. Now a little is it revived, but not so revived that it hath utterly shook off his dank upper mourning garment. Were it effectually recured, in my soulinfused lines I would shew that I perfectly lived, and in them your praises should live: whereas now only amongst the dead I live in them, and they dead all those that look upon them. That which my tear-stubbed pen, in this theological subject, hath attempted, is no more but the coarse-spun web of discontent: a quintessence of holy complaint, extracted out of my true cause of condolement.

Peruse it, judicial Madam, and something in it shall you find that may pierce. The world hath crowned you for religion, piety, bountihood, modesty, and sobriety; (rare endowments in these retchless days of security.) Divers well-deserving poets have consecrated their endeavours to your praise. Fame's eldest favourite, Master Spenser, in all his writings high prizeth you. To the eternizing of the heroical family of the CAREYS my choicest studies have I tasked: than you that high-allied house hath not a more dear adopted ornament. To the supportive perpetuating of your canonized reputation wholly this book have I destined; vouchsafe it benign hospitality in your closet, with slight interview at idle hours; and more polished labours of mine, ere long, shall salute you. Some complete history I will shortly go through with,

wherein your perfections shall be the chief argument. To none of all those majestical wit-forestalling worthies of your sex myself do I apply, but you alone: the cunning courtship of fair words can never overwork me to cast away honour on any. I hate those female braggarts, that contend to have all the Muses beg at their doors; and with doves delight evermore to look themselves in the glass of vain glory, yet by their sides wear continually Barbary purses, which never ope to any but pedantical parasites.

Divine Lady! you I must and will memorize more especially, for you recompense learning extraordinarily. Pardon my presumption, lend patience to my prolixity, and if any thing in all please, think it was compiled to please you. This I vouch, no line of it was laid down, without awful looking back to your frown. To write in divinity I would not have adventured, if ought else might have consorted with the regenerate gravity of your judgYour thoughts are all holy, holy is your life; in your heart lives no delight but of heaven. Far be it I should proffer to unhallow them with any profane papers of mine. The care I have to work your holy content, I hope God hath ordained, to call me home sooner unto him.

ment.

Varro saith, the philosophers held two hundred and eight opinions of felicity: two hundred and eight felicities to me shall it be, if I have framed any one line to your liking. Most resplendent Lady, encourage me, favour me, countenance me in this, and something ere long I will aspire to beyond the common mediocrity.

Your admired Ladyship's most devoted,

THO. NASH.

TO THE READER.

IL nisi flere libet: Gentles, here is no joyful subject towards; if you will weep, so it is. I have nothing to spend on you but passion. A hundred unfortunate farewels to fantastical Satirism. In those veins heretofore have I mis-spent my spirit, and prodigally conspired against good hours. Nothing is there now so much in my vows, as to be at peace with all men, and make submissive amends where I have most displeased.

As the title of this book is CHRIST'S TEARS, so be this epistle the tears of my pen. Many things have I vainly set forth, whereof now it repenteth me. St. Augustine writ a whole book of his Retractations. Nothing so much do I retract, as that wherein soever I have scandalized the meanest. Into some splenitive veins of wantonness heretofore have I foolishly relapsed, to supply my private wants: of them no less do I desire to be absolved than the rest, and to God and man do I promise an unfeigned conversion.

To a little more wit have my increasing years reclaimed me than I had before. Those that have been perverted by any of my works, let

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