Have purchast him in heaven an happie crowne: Where he now liveth in eternall blis, 265 And left his sonne t'ensue those steps of his.

Likewise they sacrifice their sonnes and their daughters, and so, much people is put to death before the said Idol by reason of that accursed ceremony.

Aye me beholde Your sonne, Lord Hardenbergh, courting Hyanthe.

Behould me heere, sometymes faire Englands lord: (7) warlicke sonnes I left, yett being gone No one succeeded in my kingly throne, &c. I will not inflict more of this stuff on the reader.

Smoother your passions, Sir: here comes his sonne A propertie oth court, that least his owne Ill manners should be noted thynks it fytt In pollycie to scoffe at other mens.

A child to this poor woman was "borne in the prison," who was bound out until he became twenty-one years of age, to Nathaniel Rescew, to whom £15 were paid according to the mother's promise to him, he having engaged himself "to meinteine and well educate her sonne."

Tis Fraunce hath done the wrong: you have commenst This deed of death on Pembrook & our son, And now, to cover it, suggest and fayne Our guiltlesse sonne a guilty ravisher.

A truce for three moneths, so it please your Highnes, During which time our children shall have leave With Drum and Trumpet to surveigh the Campe, To court our daughters and to feast themselves As fits the sonnes of honourable foes.

And that I see in passages of proofe, Time qualifies the sparke and fire of it: [A] Hamlet comes backe: what would you vndertake, To show your selfe your Fathers sonne indeed, [Sidenote: selfe indeede your fathers sonne]

But this assure your self, when all is done, They'l kill the father that will kill the sonne.

Looke you Sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who; what meanes; and where they keepe: What company, at what expence: and finding By this encompassement and drift of question, That they doe know my sonne: Come you more neerer Then your particular demands will touch it, Take you as 'twere some distant knowledge of him,

Verye good sir, I knowe y'are sonne unto the Mynion.

They say they marry their children so yoong, because it is an order that when the man dieth, the woman must be burned with him: so that if the father die, yet they may haue a father in lawe to helpe to bring vp the children which bee maried: and also that they will not leaue their sonnes without wiues, nor their daughters without husbands.

Hardenbergh, take her and imprison her Within thy house: I will not loose my sonne For all the wealth the Loves of heaven embrace.

No, Hardenbergh; he loves my sonne too well

If from thys marydge there myght sprynge a sonne, Which is myne ende, my honors would knowe none, But like a ryver that receyves his name Or fyrst oryginall from some mountayns foote, Begyns a syngle streame, but at last growes To have no bounds but what it could oreflow

I prethee, tell me, didst thou ever know A Father pleased his sonne to murder so?

And here, to make thy apprehension full And seat thy reason in a sound beleefe, I vow to morrow (e're the rising sunne Begin his journey), with all Ceremonies Due to the Church, to scale our Nuptials; To prive thy sonne, with full consent of State,

As for Fallerio, not his homelie weedes, His beardlesse face, nor counterfetted speech, Can shield him from deserved punishment; But what he thinkes shall rid him from suspect, Shall drench him in more waves of wretchednesse, Pulling his sonne into relentlesse iawes, Of hungrie death, on tree of infamie.

My lord, most fortunate were that event That would restore your sonne from death to life.

"For not to have been dipt in Lethe lake, Could save the sonne of Thetis from to die; But that blinde bard did him immortall make 430 With verses dipt in deaw of Castalie: Which made the Easterne conquerour to crie, O fortunate yong man!

Vpon the right hand of the great Can sitteth his first begotten sonne and heire apparent vnto his empire, and vnder him sit all the nobles of the blood royall.

Soone as he them plac'd in thy sacred wood, O Delian goddesse, saw, to which of yore 170 Came the bad daughter of old Cadmus brood, Cruell Agavè, flying vengeance sore Of King Nictileus for the guiltie blood Which she with cursed hands had shed before; There she halfe frantick, having slaine her sonne, 175 Did shrowd her selfe like punishment to shonne.

Some cry and yet are well; some are kild silent; Some kindly runne to helpe their neighbours house, The whilest their own's afire; some save their goods And leave their dearer pledges in the flame; One takes his little sonnes with trembling hands; Tother his house-Gods saves, which could not him; All bann the doer, and with wishes kill Their absent Murderer.

Mother, tys true your sonne, my cruell brother, The toe much wise, toe subtyll Ganelon, Onlye withdrawes