<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
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<DATE>2008-11-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080926.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B02701">
<STC T="W">D1564</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99884946</BIBNO>
<VID>182717</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poetic dialogue">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 14 -->
<HEAD><FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>portrait of Thomas, Earl of Strafford</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE><HI>The Di&s;contented</HI> CONFERENCE BETWIXT The two great ASSOCIATES, THOMAS Late Earle of STRAFFORD, AND <HI>WILLIAM</HI> Arch-bi&s;hop of CANTERBVRY.<FIGURE>
<FIGDESC>portrait of William, Archbishop of Canterbury</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></HEAD>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Straff.</SPEAKER>
<L>GOD &s;ave your Grace: How doe you doe?</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>My Lord, I thanke you, well as you.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Straff.</SPEAKER>
<L>I have not &s;eene your Grace of late</L>
<L>So full of mirth, may't au&s;picate</L>
<L>Some good event, and &s;uch as wee</L>
<L>May by it finde our libertie;</L>
<L>The Proverb him unwi&s;e doth hold,</L>
<L>Who loves his &s;etters, though of gold.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>La&s;t night (my Lord) &s;ome nobler dreame</L>
<L>Then did to &s;anguine, choler, phlegme,</L>
<L>Or unto melancholy owe</L>
<L>It's birth, did on my fancy grow:</L>
<L>Me thought I was in <HI>Oxford,</HI> where</L>
<L>Lord Chancellours name and power I beare;</L>
<L>What &s;howts Saint JOHNS there to me gave,</L>
<L>My gladed cares yet ringing have;</L>
<L>I heard their labouring joyes, and throng</L>
<L>Of prai&s;es both in pro&s;e and &s;ong.</L>
<L>And as, me-thought, from thence I came</L>
<L>To <HI>Lambeth,</HI> I &s;till heard the &s;ame</L>
<L>So loud, that Eccho from <HI>Whitehall</HI></L>
<L>Return'd them to my <HI>Lambeths</HI> wall.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Straff.</SPEAKER>
<L>In &s;uch a dreame, O who would keepe</L>
<L>A noy&s;e to breake your Graces &s;leepe!</L>
<L>And though dreames erre, yet may this be</L>
<L>To you a happy prophe&s;ie,</L>
<L>And &s;uch a one as may prove true,</L>
<L>And faire unto my &s;elfe, as you,</L>
<L>For &s;o by one compact of wit,</L>
<L>Our Coun&s;els were together knit</L>
<L>So clo&s;e, &s;o even they did goe</L>
<L>To worke the Common-weale it's woe,</L>
<L>We cannot well our &s;elves define</L>
<L>What plot was yours, or which was mine,</L>
<L>They were each others Inmates, twins</L>
<L>That vi'd which mo&s;t &s;hould number &s;ins;</L>
<L>Both &s;lept, both wak'd at once, and whether</L>
<L>They lo&s;t or won, both play'd together.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>My Lord, you rage. <HI>Straf.</HI> You cannot call</L>
<L>Truth a di&s;ea&s;e, or rage at all:</L>
<L>Truth neither can, nor will deceive you.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>Farewell my Lord, for I mu&s;t leave you.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Straf.</SPEAKER>
<L>Yet &s;tay a while, and give to me</L>
<L>Once more your Benedicitee;</L>
<L>I mu&s;t confe&s;&s;e I did begin</L>
<L>To chide, but now forget my &s;pleene.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>It doth increa&s;e my joy, and &s;ure</L>
<L>The joy may well your prai&s;e procure:</L>
<L>How thinke you? Would this Kingdome flout,</L>
<L>To heare wee two were falling out?</L>
<L>Come, be your &s;elfe; relate at length</L>
<L>What arm'd Recu&s;ants, what new &s;trength</L>
<L>May come from <HI>Ireland,</HI> to relieve</L>
<L>Our dying faction. <HI>Straf.</HI> Never grieve.</L>
<L>My &s;etled Soule; I doe not know</L>
<L>That root on which one hope might grow;</L>
<L>But in conclu&s;ion there mu&s;t be</L>
<L>A rope for you, an axe for me.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>Was this your well grounded gue&s;&s;e</L>
<L>Of our increa&s;ing happine&s;&s;e?</L>
<L>Ends thus your boa&s;ting, that you could</L>
<L>Get money, men, or what you would,</L>
<L>To curbe the in&s;olency of tho&s;e</L>
<L>That were, or would become our foes?</L>
<L>Fal&s;e <HI>Straffords</HI> Earle. <HI>Straf.</HI> Stop there, your Grace</L>
<L>His tongue doth trot too round a pace;</L>
<L>Looke, looke abroad, can you now &s;ee</L>
<L>No Patent, no Monopolee;</L>
<L>Are all your projects, all your fine</L>
<L>Devices &s;ick as Medium wine?</L>
<L>Can now no more <HI>Lauds,</HI> lawle&s;&s;e might,</L>
<L>The Par&s;on from the Pulpit fright,</L>
<L>The Subject from the Kingdome? What</L>
<L>Could ruine doe which you did not?</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>There's &s;omething yet undone, 'tis true,</L>
<L>But &s;hortly to be done to you:</L>
<L>Each Guard you have (for 'tis the will</L>
<L>Of Fate to have you guarded &s;till)</L>
<L>Shall &s;erve the Mini&s;ter of your doome,</L>
<L>Your Executioner, not your Groome:</L>
<L>Your head that ma&s;terd &s;o much art,</L>
<L>Ere long &s;hall from your &s;houlders part;</L>
<L>Your blood your &s;carlet mu&s;t new dye,</L>
<L>Your Spurres fall off, your Ermines flye,</L>
<L>And of &s;o great, &s;o fear'd a Name,</L>
<L>Scarce left a man that loves your Fame.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Straf.</SPEAKER>
<L>So, &s;o, (my Lord) my heart is glad</L>
<L>I owne that griefe your Grace can mad;</L>
<L>Your Head, no doubt, is growne the lighter</L>
<L>Since di&s;-inve&s;ted of the Miter;</L>
<L>It was too proud a weight, and knowne</L>
<L>To nur&s;e bad thoughts, 'tis better gone.</L>
<L>The Shepheards on their Sheephooks laugh,</L>
<L>And doe upbraid your Cro&s;ier &s;taffe;</L>
<L>No more, your now deafe Chaplaines harke</L>
<L>What houre &s;hall &s;peake you Patriarke.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Cant.</SPEAKER>
<L>Farewell, farewell, your Time cals on,</L>
<L>Speake thoughts more &s;anctifide, or none;</L>
<L>'Tis you mu&s;t lead the way, and I</L>
<L>Shall follow after by and by.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Straf.</SPEAKER>
<L>My lifes &s;hort knarled thred doth &s;tand,</L>
<L>Expecting Fates impartiall hand:</L>
<L>Heav'n hath my thoughts, (my Lord) yet &s;tay,</L>
<L>Shall we nere meet againe? <HI>Cant.</HI> We may.</L>
<L>There's roome enough in Heav'n for two</L>
<L>Have more tran&s;gre&s;t then I or you:</L>
<L>But I what place and time forbeare</L>
<L>To name, 'tis GOD knowes when and where.</L>
</SP>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Printed in the Yeare, of our Prelates feare, 1641.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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</ETS>
