RONCAS

If not, your Highness hath small cause to care, Having such worthy reason to complain Of Spain's cold friendship, and his lingering succours, Who only entertains your griefs with hope, To make your medicine desperate. The new-created Duke Byron is fit, Were there no other reason for your presence, To make it worthy; for he is a man Of matchless valour, and was ever happy In all encounters, which were still made good, With and unwearied sense of any toil, Having continued fourteen days together Upon his ho see; his blood is not voluptuous, Nor much inclined to women; his desires Are higher than his sta e and his deserts Not much short of the most he can desire, If they be weigh worser with what France feels by them: He is passed measure glorious: And that humour Is fit to feed his Spirits, whom it possesses With faith in any error; chiefly where Men blow it up, with praise of his perfections, The taste whereof in him so sooths his palate, And takes up all his appetite, that oft times He will refuse his meat, and company To feast alone with their most strong conceit; Ambition also, cheek by cheek does march With that excess of glory, both sum taind With and unlimited fancy, That the King, Nor Fr unce it self, without him can subsist. My Lord, There is another discontented Spirit Now here in Court, that for his brain, and aptness To any course that may recover him In his declined and litigious state, Will serve Byro , as he were made for him, In giving vent to his ambitious vain, And that is, De Laffin. I have my Lord, and doubt not he will p ooue, Of the yet taintless fortress of Byron, A quick Expugner, and a strong Abider. Thus will Laffin be brought a Stranger to you, By him he leads; he conquers that is conquered, Thats sought, as hard to win, that sues to be won. The same my Lord, Is't not a face of excellent presentment, Though not so amorous with pure white, and read, Yet is the whole proportion singular; I herd the famous and right learned Earl, And Archbishop of Lions Peirse Pinac, Who was reported to have wondrouse Judgement In men's events, and nature's, by their looks: (Upon his death bed, visited by this duke) He told his sister, when his grace was gone, That he had never yet observed a face, Of worse presage then this: and I will swear, That (something seen in Physiognomy) I do not find in all the rules he gives One slenderest blemish tending to mishap, But (on the opposite partly) as we may see, On trees late blossomd, when all frosts are passed, How they are taken and what will be fruit: So, on this tree of Sceptres, I discern How it is laden with appearances, Rules answering Rules; and glances, crowned with glances;