"Thus shall you show that him you do not doubt, "And as for me, sweet husband, I must bear !" Glad was the man when he had heard her out, And did the same, although with mickle fear For fear he did, lest he the young man might The courtly shepherd, much aghast at this, Knowing that ill becomes a household strife, The wife, thus having settled husband's brain, Three days before that he must sure depart, Seem to proceed, so well it was devis'd; ; With weeping eyes (her eyes she taught to weep) She told him that the courtier had it sent: "Alas," quoth she, "thus women's shame doth "creep!" The good man read, on both sides, the content: It title had" Unto my only Love :" Subscription was, "Yours most, if you will prove." Th' epistle self such kind of words it had : "My sweetest joy! the comfort of my sprite! "So may thy flocks increase, thy dear heart glad, "So may each thing, e'en as thou wishest, light, "As thou wilt deign to read, and gently read, "This mourning ink, in which my heart doth bleed. "Long have I lov'd, alas, thou worthy art! "Long have I lov'd, alas, love craveth love! "Long have I lov'd thyself! alas, my heart "Doth break, now tongue unto thy name doth " move! "And think not that thy answer answer is, "But that it is my doom of bale or bliss. "The jealous wretch must now to court be gone: “Ne can he fail, for prince hath for him sent: "Now is the time we may be here alone, "And give a long desire a sweet content. "Thus shall you both reward a lover true, And this was all, and this the husband read Now that he had her words so truly tried: That straight was done; with many a boisterous threat That to the king he would his sin declare; But now the courtier 'gan to smell the feat, And, with some words which showed little care, He staid until the good man was departed; Then gave he him the blow which never smarted. Thus may you see the jealous wretch was made A DITTY. [From Puttenham's " Art of Poesy."] My true love hath my heart, and I have his, His heart in me keeps him and me in one, My true love hath my heart, and I have his. LORD BROOK. Fulk Greville, lord Brook, descentled from the ancient family of the Grevilles, was born at Alcaster in Warwickshire, 1554, was educated both at Oxford and Cambridge, and introduced very early to the court of Elizabeth, with whom he effectually ingratiated himself; and though, like all her favourites, he had often reason to complain of her political coquetry, and was disappointed by her caprice, in his projects of obtaining military distinction, he was rewarded by her with many important and lucrative employments. He had also the address to acquire and preserve the favour of her successors, James and Charles, by the former of whom he was created lord Brook, in 1620. He was at last assassinated by one of his own retainers, Ralph Heywood, and died of the wound on the 30th of September, 1628. Lord Brook, like his friend and relation Sir P. Sidney, was a liberal patron of literature; and his poetry, particularly his matchless Mustapha, as Bolton calls it, was much admired by his contemporaries. I, WITH whose colours Myra drest her head, By Myra finely wrought ere I was waking, |