Detail View: LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection: A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].

Digital Image File Name: 
142173
Source Call Number: 
V.a.125
Source Title: 
A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].
Image Details: 
Part I. When reading Part I, Part II is inverted and reversed.
Source Creator: 
Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.
Source Created or Published: 
ca. 1630
Physical Description: 
folio 20 verso || folio 21 recto
Digital Image Type: 
FSL collection
Hamnet Catalog Link: 
http://hamnet.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=229445
Transcription: 
Verses on M rs Mallet Haue I renounc'd my fayth! or basely Sold Saluation & my loyalty for gold Or haue I forraine practice vndertooke By poyson, Shot, sharpe knife, or sharper booke To kill my King? haue I betray'd the state, To fyer or some newer fate? Which learned murtherers the grand destinys The Iesuits haue nurs't? if of all this I guiltie am proceed I am contente That Mallet take mee for my punishment. For neuer Sin was of Soe high a rate But one nights hell with her meight expiate. Although the Law with Garnet and the rest Dealt far more mildlie hanging's but a iest. To this immortall torture, had shee been then When Mar [t] y [r] s torrid days ingendred, when Crueltie was wittie, & inuention free Did liue by blood, and thriue by crueltie. Shee would haue been more horrid engines far Then fier or famine, rakes or halters are Whither her wit forme take or tyre I name Each is a stroke of tyranie & shame But for the breath spectators come not nigh, That page break That layes about ( [spectators come not nigh.] God blesse the company) The man in the bears skin bated to death Would chose the dogs far rather then her breath. 21 One kisse of hers & eighteene words alone, Puts downe the Spanish Inquisition. Thrice happie wee (quoth I thinking thereon That know not dayes of persecution. For were it free to kill this grislie Elfe Would marters make in compase of her selfe. And were shee not preuented by our prayer By this time shee corrupted had the ayer And am I innocent & is it trew That thing which Poet Plinie neuer knew Nor affrick Nile , nor euer Hacluit s eyes Discr'id in all his east, west voyages. That thing which Poets [were] were affraide to fayne (For feare her shadow should infect there brayne) Should dote on mee. as if they did contriue The Diuel & shee to damne a man aliue. This spouse of Antechrist & his alone, Shee's drest soe like the whoore of Bablylon . Why doth not Welcome rather purchase her And beare aboute this rare familiar. Six market days a Wake, & a fayre to'ot Will quite his charges & the Ale to boote Not Tygresse like shee feeds vpon a man Worse then a Tyger or a Leopard can Lett mee goe thinke vpon some diulish spell At once to bee the diuel & her farewell. R ichard .C orbett .
Credit: 
Transcriptions made by Shakespeare's World volunteers (shakespearesworld.org), participants in EMROC classes and transcribathons (emroc.hypotheses.org), participants in Folger paleography classes and transcribathons, and Folger docents.