These two last lines, for the worthiness of the Poet, are thus translated by Dr. Fuller.

  Whilest thou didst live, liv’d English Poetry,
  Which fears, now thou art dead, that she shall die.

A modern Author writes, that the Lord Cecil owed Mr. Spenser a grudge for some Reflections of his in Mother Hubbard’s Tale, and therefore when the Queen had order’d him that Money, the Lord Treasurer said, What all this for a Song?  And this he is said to have taken so much to heart, that he contracted a deep Melancholy, which soon after brought his life to a period:  so apt is an ingenious spirit to resent a slighting even from the greatest persons.  And thus much I must needs say of the Merit of so great a Poet, from so great a Monarch, that it is incident to the best of Poets sometimes to flatter some Royal or Noble Patron, never did any do it more to the height, or with greater art and elegance, if the highest of praises attributed to so Heroick a Princess can justly be termed flattery.

* * * * *

Sir JOHN HARRINGTON.

Sir John Harrington is supposed to be born in Somerset-shire, he having a fair Estate near Bath in that County.  His Father, for carrying a Letter to the Lady (afterwards Queen) Elizabeth, was kept twelve months in the Tower, and made to spend a Thousand Pounds e’re he could be free of that trouble.  His Mother also being Servant to the Lady Elizabeth, was sequestred from her, and her Husband enjoyned not to keep company with her; so that on both sides he may be said to be very indear’d to Queen Elizabeth, who was also his Godmother, a further tye of her kindness and respects unto him.

This Sir John was bred up in Cambridge, either in Christ’s or in St. John’s-Colledge, under Dr. Still his Tutor.  He afterwards proved one of the most ingenious Poets of our English Nation, no less noted for his Book of witty Epigrams, than his judicious Translation of Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso, dedicated to the Lady Elizabeth, afterwards Queen of Bohemia.

The British Epigramatist, Mr. John Owen, in his second Book of Epigrams, thus writes to him: 

  A Poet mean I am, yet of the Troop,
  Though thou art not, yet better thou canst do’t.

And afterwards in his fourth Book, Epig. 20. concerning Envy’s Genealogy; he thus complements him.

  Fair Vertue, foul-mouth’d Envy breeds, and feeds;
  From Vertue only this foul Vice proceeds;
  Wonder not that I this to you indite,
  ’Gainst your rare Vertues, Envy bends her spite.

It happened that whilest the said Sir John repaired often to an Ordinary in Bath, a Female attendress at the Table, neglecting other Gentlemen, which sat higher, and were of greater Estates, applied herself wholly to him, accommodating him with all necessaries, and preventing his asking any thing with her officiousness.  She being demanded by him, the reason of her so careful waiting on him? I understand (said she) you are a very witty man, and if I should displease you in any thing, I fear you would make an Epigram of me.