Which when I wayed, the newe, and eke the oulde, I thought vppon your towne destroyed with fire: And did in minde, the newe NAMPWICHE behoulde, A spectacle for anie mans desire: Whose buildinges braue, where cinders weare but late, Did represente (me thought) the Phœnix fate. And as the oulde, was manie hundreth yeares, A towne of fame, before it felt that crosse: Euen so, (I hope) this WICHE, that nowe appeares, A Phœnix age shall laste, and knowe no losse: Which GOD vouchsafe, who make you thankfull, all: That see this rise, and sawe the other fall.” The _Concordance to Shakespeare_, by Mrs. Cowden Clarke, for thoroughness hitherto unmatched,[166] notes down eleven instances in which the Phœnix is named, and in most of them, with some epithet expressive of its nature. It is spoken of as the Arabian bird, the bird of wonder; its nest of spicery is mentioned; it is made an emblem of death, and employed in metaphor to flatter both Elizabeth and James. Besides the instances already given (p. 236), we here select others of a general nature; as:—When on the renowned Talbot’s death in battle, Sir William Lucy, in presence of Charles, the Dauphin, exclaims over the slain (_1 Hen. VI._, act iv. sc. 7, l. 92),— “O that I could but call these dead to life! It were enough to fright the realm of France:” his request for leave to give their bodies burial is thus met,— “_Pucelle._ I think this upstart is old Talbot’s ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. For God’s sake, let him have ’em.... _Charles._ Go, take their bodies hence. _Lucy._ I’ll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be rear’d A phœnix, that shall make all France afeard.” And York, on the haughty summons of Northumberland and Clifford, declares (_3 Hen. VI._, act i. sc. 4, l. 35),— “My ashes, as the Phœnix, may bring forth A bird that will revenge upon you all.” In the _Phœnix and the Turtle_ (lines 21 and 49, vol. ix. p. 671), are the lines,— “Here the anthem doth commence: Love and constancy is dead; Phœnix and the turtle fled In a mutual flame from hence. . . . . . . Whereupon it made this threne To the phœnix and the dove, Co-supremes and stars of love, As chorus to their tragic scene.” The “threne,” or _Lamentation_ (l. 53, vol. ix. p. 672), then follows,— “Beauty, truth and rarity Grace in all simplicity, Here enclosed in cinders lie. Death is now the phœnix’ nest; And the turtle’s loyal breast To eternity doth rest.”