[1] Elizabeth Cromwell.—A contemporary writes, “How many of the Royalist prisoners got she not freed? How many did she not save from death whom the Laws had condemned? How many persecuted Christians hath she not snatched out of the hands of the tormentors; quite contrary unto that [daughter of] Herodias who could do anything with her [step] father? She imployed her Prayers even with Tears to spare such men whose ill fortune had designed them to suffer,” &c. (S. Carrington’s History of the Life and Death of His most Serene Highness OLIVER, Late Lord Protector. 1659. p. 264.)
Elizabeth Cromwell, here contrasted with Salome, more resembled the Celia of As you Like It, in that she, through prizing truth and justice, showed loving care of those whom her father treated as enemies.
By the way, our initial-letter W. on [opening page 11] (representing Salome receiving from the Σπεκουλάτωρ, sent by Herod, the head of S. John the Baptist)—is copied from the Address to the Reader prefixed to Part II. of Merry Drollery, 1661. [Vide postea, p. 232.]
Our initial letters in M. D., C., pp. 3, 5, are in fac simile of the original.
[2] Cromwell “seemed much afflicted at the death of his Friend the Earl of Warwick; with whom he had a fast friendship, though neither their humours, nor their natures, were like. And the Heir of that House, who had married his youngest Daughter [Frances], died about the same time [or, rather, two months earlier]; so that all his relation to, or confidence in that Family was at an end; the other branches of it abhorring his Alliance. His domestick delights were lessened every day; he plainly discovered that his son [in-law, who had married Mary Cromwell,] Falconbridge’s heart was set upon an Interest destructive to his, and grew to hate him perfectly. But that which chiefly broke his Peace was the death of his daughter [Elizabeth] Claypole; who had been always his greatest joy, and who, in her sickness, which was of a nature the Physicians knew not how to deal with, had several Conferences with him, which exceedingly perplexed him. Though no body was near enough to hear the particulars, yet her often mentioning, in the pains she endured, the blood her Father had spilt, made people conclude, that she had presented his worst Actions to his consideration. And though he never made the least show of remorse for any of those Actions, it is very certain, that either what she said, or her death, affected him wonderfully.” (Clarendon’s Hist. of the Rebellion. Book xv., p. 647, edit. 1720.)
[3] John Cleveland wrote a satirical address to Mr. Hammond, the Puritan preacher of Beudley, who had exerted himself “for the Pulling down of the Maypole.” It begins, in mock praise, “The mighty zeal which thou hast put on,” &c.; and is printed in Parnassus Biceps, 1656, p. 18; and among “J. Cleveland Revived: Poems,” 1662, p. 96.
[4] Here the thought is enveloped amid tender fancies. Compare the more passionate and solemn earnestness of the loyal churchman, Henry King, Bishop of Chichester, in his poem of The Exequy, addressed “To his never-to-be-forgotten Friend,” wherein he says:—
“Sleep on, my Love, in thy cold bed,
Never to be disquieted!
My last good-night! Thou wilt not wake,