I see his picture in[496] the rationale writt by <Anthony> Sparrow, bishop of Exon, in the beginning wherof are the effigies[497] of L<ancelot> Andrews, bishop of Winton, Mr. <Richard> Hooker, and John Overall, bishop of Norwich—before which is writt Ecclesiae et Liturgiae Anglicanae vindices. Quaere if this deane was that bishop.
I know not what he wrote or whether he was any more than a common-prayer Doctor; but most remarqueable by his wife, who was the greatest beautie in her time in England. That she was so I have it attested from the famous limmer[498] Mr. <John> Hoskins[499] and other old painters, besides old courtiers. She was not more beautifull than she was obligeing and kind, and was so tender-hearted that (truly) she could scarce denie any one. She had (they told me) the loveliest eies that ever were seen, but wondrous wanton. When she came to court or to the playhouse, the gallants would so flock round her. Richard, the earle of Dorset, and his brother Edward, since earle, both did mightily adore her. And by their report he must have had a hard heart that did not admire her. Bishop Hall sayeth in his Meditations that 'there is none so old that a beautifull person loves not; nor so young whom a lovely feature moves not.'
The good old deane, notwithstanding he knew well enough that he was horned, loved her infinitely: in so much that he was willing she should enjoy what she had a mind to.
Among others who were charmed by her was Sir John Selby of Yorkshire. 1656, old Mris Tyndale (of the Priory near Easton-piers), who knew her, remembres a song made of her and Sir John, part whereof was this, vizt.:—
The deane of Paule's did search for his wife,
And where d'ee thinke he found her?...[500]
etc.
On these two lovers was made this following copie of pastorall verses (vide the ballad-booke in Museo Sheldoniano[501]), e.g.
[502]Downe lay the shepherd swaine
So sober and demure,
Wishing for his wench againe[503]
So bonny and so pure,
With his head on hillock lowe
And his armes akimboe,
And all was for the losse of his
Hye nonny nonny noe.
His teares fell as thinne
As water from the still,
His haire upon his chinne
Grew like thyme upon a hill,
His cherry cheekes[504] pale as snowe
Did testifye his mickle woe,
And all was for the losse of his
Hye nonny nonny noe.
Sweet she was, as kind a love
As ever fetter'd swayne;
Never such a daynty one
Shall man enjoy again.
Sett a thousand on a rowe
I forbid that any showe
Ever the like of her
Hey nonny nonny noe.