Der arme Mann; eine Bildfolge.

no mortall wound so muche As to be recond fearfull; but the cause, The cause of my dull ruyne must affryghte you You have not flynte enoughe to arme your soule Agaynst compassyon; & that kylls a souldior. Let me have roame to breathe at lardge my woes

"Yet is there one, the most delightfull kind, A loftie jumping, or a leaping round, Where arme and arme two dauncers are entwind, And whirle themselues with strict embracements bound, And still their feet an anapest do sound: An anapest is all their musicks song, Whose first two feet are short, and third is long.

Et les noirs chevaliers, juges de cette lice, Peuvent voir, à deux pas du fatal précipice, Près de Mahaud, qui semble un corps inanimé, Éviradnus sans arme et

To shew you, Madam, The picture of your selfe, but so defac'd And mangled by proud Spanyards it woo'd whet A sword to arme the poorest Florentine In your just wrongs.

We stood the losse of most of our best men, And of our musketiers no lesse then fifty Fell by the adverse shott; whose bodyes with their armes Were cast by my directions downe a well Because their armes should neyther arme our foes Nor of our losse the sight give them encouragement.

In these I'l arme the fryar from head to knee; Mount him into his saddle, with stronge cords There bind him fast, and to his gauntlet hand

may arme two hundreth Galleyes or Fusts by Sea, and by land he hath certaine sluses with the which when the king of Pegu pretendeth any harme towards him, hee may at his pleasure drowne a great part of the Countrey.

Which, sowing in th'Aemathian fields thy spight, Didst arme thy hand against thy proper hart; To th'end that when thou wast in greatest hight To greatnes growne, through long prosperitie, Thou then adowne might'st fall more horriblie.

And more to arme your resolution, I'le tune this Churchman so that he shall chime In sounds harmonious.

He makes his love to us a warning-peece To arme our selves against we come to Court, Because the guard is doubled.

AE] arme her selfe with scorne.

Sir, I am bound to you & to my mistress, And will so arme my servyce with delighte That, madam, you shall counte thys maryadge yoake

I will be ever his; goe thou to Warre, These hands shall arme thee; and Ile watch thy Tent Till from the battaile thou bring'st victory.

Not so, my prety boy, Ill arme the againe; My breast shall be thy quiver, my sighes thy shaffts: And heres an opportunytey to be wingd againe; Se here the wings of Fortune. Love.

So I should arme a thiefe to take my purse.