Poems with the Muses looking-glasse: and Amyntas· By Thomas Randolph Master of Arts, and late fellow of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge. Randolph, Thomas, 1605-1635. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A10411 of text S115618 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 20694). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 595 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 197 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A10411 STC 20694 ESTC S115618 99850836 99850836 16066 2240863325

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A10411) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 16066) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1079:1) Poems with the Muses looking-glasse: and Amyntas· By Thomas Randolph Master of Arts, and late fellow of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge. Randolph, Thomas, 1605-1635. Randolph, Robert, 1612 or 13-1671. [24], 128; [2], 93, [7], 114 p. Printed by Leonard Lichfield printer to the Vniversity, for Francis Bowman, Oxford : M.DC.XXXVIII. [1638] Edited by Robert Randolph, who signs the first introductory verse. In verse. "The Muses looking-glasse" has separate dated title page, pagination, and register. "Amyntas" has separate dated title page and pagination; register is continuous. Some copies were possibly issued with STC 20693. Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng eebo Poems with the Muses looking-glasse: and Amyntas· By Thomas Randolph Master of Arts, and late fellow of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge. Randolph, Thomas, 1638 394 90218 201 0 0 0 0 0 22.28 C The rate of 22.28 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2003-07 Assigned for keying and markup 2003-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2003-08 Sampled and proofread 2003-08 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2003-10 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

POEMS WITH THE MVSES LOOKING-GLASSE : AND AMYNTAS .

By THOMAS RANDOLPH Master of Arts , and late Fellow of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge .

OXFORD ,

Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD Printer to the Vniversity , for FRANCIS BOWMAN : M. DC . XXXVIII .

TO THE MEMORY OF HIS DEARE BROTHER Mr THO. RANDOLPH . IN such a solemne traine of freinds that sing Thy Dirge in pious lines , and sadly bring Religious Anthemes to attend thy Hearse , Striving t'embalme thy precious name in verse : I , that should most , have no more power to raise Trophies to thee , or bring one graine of praise To crowne thy Altar , then the Orbes dispence Motion without their sole Intelligence . For I confesse that power which workes in mee Is but a weake resultance tooke from thee ; And if some scatter'd seeds of heate divine Flame in my brest , they are deriv'd from thine : And these low sickly numbers must be such , As when steel moves , the Loadstone gives the touch . So like a spungy cloud that sucks up raine From the fat soile to send it back againe ; There may be now from me some language showne To urge thy merit , but 't was first thy owne : For though the Doners influence be past For new effects , the old impressions last ; As in a bleeding trunk we oft descry Leaps in the head , and rowlings in the eye , By vertue of some spirits , that alone Doe tune those Organs though the soule be gone . But since I adde unto this generall noise Only weake sounds , and Echoes of thy voice ; Be this a taske for deeper mouthes , while I That cannot bribe the Phansy , thaw the eye : And on that Grave where they advance thy praise Doe plant a sprigge of Cypresse not of Bayes . Yet flow these teares ▪ not that thy Reliques sit Fix'd to their cell a constant Anchorit : Nor am I stirr'd that thy pale ashes have O're the darke Climate of a private Grave No faire inscription : such distempers flow From poore lay-thoughts , whose blindnesse cannot ▪ know That to discerning Spirits the Grave can be But a large wombe to Immortality : And a faire vertuous name can stand alone Brasse to the Tombe , and marble to the Stone . No , 't is that Ghostly progeny we mourne , Which carelesse you let fall into the Vrne : We had not flow'd with such a lavish tide Of teares and greife , had not those Orphans dy'd . For what had been my losse , who reading thine , A Brother might haue kiss'd in every line . These that are left , Posterity must have ; Whom a strict care hath rescu'd from the Grave To gather strength by Vnion ; as the beames Of the bright Sunne shot forth in severall streames , And thinly scatter'd with lesse fervour passe , Which cause a flame contracted in a Glasse . These , if they cannot much advance thy fame , May stand dumbe Statues to preserve thy name : And like Sun-dialls to a day that 's gone , Though poore in use , can tell there was a Sunne . Yet ( if a faire confession plant no Bayes , Nor modest truth conceiv'd a lavish praise ) I could to thy great glory tell this age Not one invenom'd line doth swell the page With guilty legends ; but so cleare from all That shoot malicious noise , and vomit gall , That 't is observ'd in every leafe of thine , Thou hast not scatter'd snakes in any line . Here are no remnants tortur'd into rime To gull the reeling judgments of the time ; Nor any stale reversions patch thy writ Gleand from the ragges and frippery of wit . Each syllable doth here as truly runne Thine , as the light is proper to the Sunne . Nay in those feebler lines which thy last breath And labouring brains snatch'd from the skirts of death Though not so strongly pure , we may descry The father in his last posterity , As clearly showne , as Virgins looks doe passe Through a thinne lawne , or shaddowes in a glasse : And in thy setting , as the Suns , confesse , The same large brightnesse , though the heate be lesse . Such native sweetnesse flowes in every line , The Reader cannot choose but sweare 't is thine . Though I can tell a rugged sect there is Of some fly-wits will judge a squint on this ; And from thy easy flux of language guesse The fancies weake , because the noise is lesse ; As if that Channell which doth smoothly glide With even streames flow'd with a shallow tide . But let a quick-discerning judgment looke , And with a peircing eye untwist thy book In every loome , I know the second veiw Shall finde more lustre then the first could doe . For have you seene when gazing on the skies With strict survey a new succession rise Of severall starres , which doe not so appeare To every formall glance that shootes up there : So when the serious eye has firmly been Fix'd on the page , such large increase is seen Of various fancy , that each severall veiw Makes the same fruitfull book a Mart of new . But I forbeare this mention ; since I must Ransack thy ashes , and revile thy dust With such low characters , I mean to raise Thee to my contemplation , not my praise : And they that wish thy Picture clearly showne In a true Glasse , I wish would use thy owne : Where I presume how e're thy vertues come Ill shap'd abroad , th' art fairly drest at home . RO. RANDOLPH . M. A. Student of C. Church .
Lectori nimiùm critico qui Authoris Fescenninos sales plus justo rigidus interpretatur . DExtra quid Archetypae nudas mysteria chartae ? Privatique aperis limina clausa joci ? Non lucem patitur sed coelebs margo venenum , Et videt ingenuis toxica mista jocis . Quaeque stolata dedit sanctus Floralia vates , Exuis , & nudos das sine veste sales . Hin●… tota immeritam jugulat censura papyrum , Et levis ingenuos damnat arundo sales . Carnifices calamos & rauc●… jurgia Musae Simplicitas casti sentit honesta libri . Quid culpae fuerit si vatis amabile carmen Lascivam casto schemate lusit anum ? Lintea si nudis iniecit pulchra pudendis ? Uel tegit incastam larva modesta Deam ? Nulla tuis regnant nisi nomina mascula chartis , Si quod foemineum est culpa legentis erit ; ( Vt proles uteri primò qui claustra reliquit , Mascula , foemineum vidimus arte Sporum . ) Das thalami lusus cortin●… at tegmine sanctos , Cyntbia quos lectos gestiat esse suos . Dii benè , quam sanctis loquitur Venus impia verbis ? Tyndaris & raptus hic stupet esse pios . Lecta puella tuis dum spectat crimina chartis , Visa sibi est furt●… sanctior ire su●… . I nunc ingenu●… parcas lex Iulia chart●… , Scripta librum dederat , lecta lupanar erat . RO. RANDOLPH . ex Aede Christi .
BLest Spirit , when I first did see The Genius of thy Poetrie , Nimble and fluent ; in a straine Even with , if not beyond the braine Of Laureats that crown'd the stage , And liv'd the wonders of the age : And this but sparkles from a fire That flam'd up , and soar'd much higher ; I gaz'd desierous to see Whither thy wit would carry thee . Thy first rise was so high , that even As needs it must , the next was heaven . I. T. A. M.
In Authorem . CAnescant alii , sterilique aetatis honore Laetentur ; fecit te tua Musa senem . ●…arcarum labor est vit●… mensura peractae : Texuntur propriâ stamina vestra manu ; Felix qui primo excedis , Randolphe , sub aevo , Nec Genii extincti praevia fata vides ; Dii bene non dederint effoetae frig oravitae : Debes quo fueras natus in igne mori . THO. TERRENT M. A. 〈◊〉 Aede Christi :
Vpon Mr. Randolph's Poems , collected and published after his Death . AS when a swelling Cloud melted to showres , Sweetly diffuses fresh and active powers Into the shrunke and thirstie veines of earth ; Blessing her barren wombe with a new birth Of graine and fruit : and so redeemes a land Of desperate people from th' destroying hand Of merc'lesse Plague , Famine , or Dearth ; and then Collects it's streames unto the Ocean : So thy diffusive soule , and fluent parts , ( Great miracle of naturall wit and Arts , ) Rapt up some Regions 'bove our Spheare , did flow And showre their blessings downe on us below : Whilst we , dull earth , in extasies did sit , Almost o'rewhelmed with thy Flouds of Wit. What bloud of verse is pump't from our dry Braines , Sprung like a rushing Torrent from thy Veines . When a long Drought presag'd some fatall Dearth , Thy unexhausted Founts gave us new byrth Of Wit and verse : when Cham , or Isis fell , Thy open'd Floudgates made their Riv'lets swell 'Bove their proud Banks : Where planted by thy hand Th' Hesperian Orchards , Paphian Myrtles stand , And those sweet Shades , where Lovers tell their blisses To th' whisp'ring leaves , and summe'em up in kisses . There in full Quire the Muses us'd to sing Melodious Odes , bathing in Cham , their Spring : And all the Graces , TOM , dwelt with thee too , Crowning thy Front for old Citherons Brow . Nor were we rich alone ; Climes farre from hence Acknowledge yet thy soveraigne influence : Sicilians owe to thee their fruitfull Vale , And Cotswold 〈◊〉 thy Dewes created Dale . All Lands and Soyles from hence were fruitfull growne , And multipli'd the measures thou hadst sowne . Green-sword-untilled milk-maids wish no blisses Beyond a stammel Petticoat , and kisses , And thy sweet Dowry ! This alone , they cry , Will make our Beasts and Milk to multiply . And the d●…ll Fallow Clownes , who never thought Of God or Heaven but in a floud or drought , Doe gape and pray for Crops of Wit , and vow To make their Lads and Wenches Poets now . For they can make their fields to laugh and sing To th' Muses Pipe , and Winter rhime to spring . They pray for the first curse ; like Schollers now , To earne their livings by their sweaty Brow . Then the fine Gardens of the Court , are set With Flowers sprung from thy Muses Coronet . Those pretty Imps in Plush , that on trust goe For their fine clothes , and their fine Iudgments too , The Frontispice or Titlepage of Playes , Whose whole discourse is — As the Poet sayes . That Tavernes draine , ( for Ivy is the signe Of all such sack-shop wits , as well as wine . ) And make their verses dance on either hand With numerous feet , whilst they want feet to stand . That score up ●…ests for every glasse or cup , And th' totall summe behind the Doore cast up ; These had beene all dry'd up , and many more , That quafse up Helicon upon thy score . The sneaking Tribe , that drinke and write by fits , As they can steale or borrow coine or wits , That Pandars fee for Plots , and then belie The paper with — An excellent Comedie , Acted ( more was the pitty , ) by th' Red Bull With great applause , of some vaine City Gull ; That damne Philosophy , and prove the curse Of emptinesse , both in the Braine and Purse ; These that scrape legges and trenchers to my Lord , Had starv'd but for some scraps pickt from thy Bord. They 'had try'd the Balladiers or Fidlers trade , Or a New Comedie at Tiburne made . Thus , TOM thy pregnant Phancy crown'd us all With wealthy showers , or Mines Poeticall . Nor did thy dews distill in a cold raine , But with a flash of Lightning op't thy braine , Which thaw'd our stupid spirits with lively heat , And from our frosts for●…'d a Poëticke sweat . And now , Wit 's Common-wealth by thee repriv'd , ( For its consumption shewes it not long liv'd , ) Thy farre dispersed Streames divert their course , ( Though some are damned up ) to th' Muses Sourse , This Ocean : — He that will fadome it , By 's Lines shall sound an Ocean of wit ; Not shallow , low , and troubled , but profound , And vast , though in these narrow limits Bound . The tribute of our eyes or pens , all we can pay , Are some poore drops to thy Pactolus Sea , And first stolne thence , though now so muddy growne With our fowle channels , they scarce seeme thy owne . Thus have I seene a peice of Coine , which bore The Image of my King or Prince before , New cast into some Peasant , loose its grace ; Yet 's the same body with a fowler face . If our owne store must pay ; that Gold which was Lent us in sterling we must turne in brasse . Hadst thou writ lesse or worse , then we might lay Something upon thy Vrne thou didst not say : But thou hadst Phansies vast Monopolie , Our stocke will scarce amount t' an Elegie ! Yet all the Legacies thy Fatall day Bequeath'd , thy sad Executour will pay . To late Divines ( by Will and Testament ) A Paraphrase on ●…ach Commandement , In Morall Precepts ; with a Disputation Ending the Quarrells 'bout Predestination . To those that study how to spend the Day , And yet grow wise — The Ethicks in a Play . To Poets , 'cause there is no greater curse , Thou bequeathdst — Nothing , in thy ●…mpty Purse . To City-Madams , that bespeak new faces For every Play or Feast , Thy Looking-glasses . And to their chamber-maids , who only can Adorne their Ladies head , and dreame on man , Th' ast left a Dowry ; They till now , by stealth Writ only members of the Common-wealth . To Heaven thy Ravish't Soule , ( though who shall look Will say it lives in each line of thy Book . ) Thy Dust , unnaturall Reliques that could die , To Earth ; Thy Fame unto Eternitie . A Husband to thy Widdow'd Poetrie , Not from the Court but Vniversitie . To thy sad Aunt , and now despairing mother , Thy litle Orphans , and thy younger Brother ; From all of which this free Confessions fit , The younger sister had the elder Wit.
Ad Auhorem . MOllia quòd tenui currunt mihi carmina filo , Et meus in gyro stet breviore labor , Dum tua constrictis assurgit Musa Cothurnis , Et Ueneres casto vincit Avena I●…co , Cedimus inculti ! Fato par Gloria nostro Quod Tua mirentur Carmina , Nostra legant . R. BRIDE-OAKE . A. M. No. Coll.
WHat need thy book crave any other fame , It is enough that it beares Randolphs name . Who sees the title , and him understood , Must much condemne himselfe , or say t is good . Goe forth example to the Neophyte , Who hence should learne to Catechize his wit . And dresse his Phancy by this glasse : whose Muse Welfavour'd is , should here her face peruse , It will not flatter , 't will reflect the grace She takes from th' owner of a beuteous face : But if a menstruous , and illiterate eye Blast her , the various specks shall soone descry The foule beholder , and proclaime her spoile Not to result from thence , but his own foyle . ED. GAYTON . M. A : ●…oan .
IMmortall BEN is dead ; and as that ball On Ida toss'd , so is his Crowne by all The Infantry of wit . Vaine Priests ! That chaire Is only fit for his true Sonne and Heire . Reach here the Lawrell : Randolph●… 't is thy praise : Thy naked Scull shall well become the Bayes . See , Daphne courts thy Ghost : and spite of fate , Thy Poems shall be Poet Laureat . G. W. Ioan.
To his worthy friend Mr ROBERT RANDOLPH of Ch. Ch. on the publishing of his Brothers Poems . WE thank you , worthy sir , that t is our hap To praise even Randolph now without a clap , And give our suffrage yet , though not our voice , To shew the odds betwixt his fame and noyse : Whose only modesty we could applaud , That seldome durst presume to blush abroad ; And bear his vast Report , and setting forth His vertues , grow a suff'rer of his worth , Was scarce his own acquaintance , and did use To hear himselfe reported but as newes , So distant from himselfe , that one might dare To say those two were nere familiar : Whose pollisht Phancy hath so smoothly wrought , That 't is suspected , and might tempt our thought To guesse it spent in every birth , so writ Not as the guift but Legacy of his wit : Whose unbid braine drops so much flowing worth , That others are deliver'd , he brought forth ; That did not course in wit , and beat at least Ten lines in fallow to put up one Iest ; Which still prevents our thought , we need not stay To th' end , the Epigram is in the way . The Towne might here grow Poet , nay t is se'd Some May'ors could hence as eas'ly rime as read ; Whose losse we so much weepe , we cannot heare His very Comedyes without a teare ; And when we read his mirth , are faine to pray Leave from our griefe to call the worke a play : Where fancy plaies with judgement ; and so fits That 't is enough to make a guard of wits ; Where lines fulfill themselues , and are so right That but a combats mention is a fight . His phrase does bring to passe , and hee has lent Language enough to give the Things Event ; The lines pronounce themselves , and we may say The Actors were but Echoes of the Play : Me thinkes the book does act , and we not doubt To say it rather Enters then Comes out ; Which even you seeme to envy , whose device Has made it viler even by its price , And taught its value , which we count so great That when we buy it cheapest we but cheat ; And when upon one Page we bles●…e our look , How-ere we bargaine we have gain'd the book ; Fresh-men in this are forc't to have their right , And 't is no purchase though 't were sold in spight ; So doe we owe you still , that let us know He gave the world the Playes , and you the Show . IOS. HOWE . Trin. Coll. OXON .
On his beloved friend the Author , and his ingenious Poems . WHat need these busy wits ? who hath a Mine His owne , thus rich , needs not the scatter'd shine Of lesser heapes : Day dimmes a taper's light : And Lamps are uselesse , where there is no night . Why then this traine of writers ? forreigne verse Can adde no honour to a Poet's hearse , Whose every line , which he to paper lent , Builds for himselfe a lasting Monument . Brave verse this priviledge hath ; Though all be dumbe , That is the Authors Epitaph and Tombe . Which when ambitious Pyles , th' ostents of Pride , To dust shall fall , and in their ruins hide Their then no more remembred Founders Name : These ( like Apollo ever young ) shall fame The first composer ; whose weigh'd workes shall tell What Noble thoughts did in his bosome dwell . But now I find the cause : they that doe praise Desert in others , for themselves plant Baies : For he that praises merit , loves it : thus Hee 's good , for goodnesse that 's solicitous . Else , though Hee diamonds keenly pointed write , They but proclaime a quainter Hypocrite : Thus in the future , it shall honour bee , That men shall read their names bound up with thee , So country Moles , that would at Court appeare , Intrude some Camels traine that does live there . So Creatures that had drown'd else , did imbarke With Noah , and liv'd by being in his Arke . Or if not thus ; as when in Royall state Nobles attend Kings to inaugurate : Or as last yeare when you both courts did see Beget joyes noone in th' Vniversity ; All the learn'd tribe in reverend Habits meet , As if the Schooles were turn'd into the street ; Where each one strove such duty to put on , As might give honour to their own Sunnes Sunne . Such honour here our dimmer pennes would have , In pompe to wait him to his solemne grave : Since what he was , his own fruits better show , Then those which planted here , by others , grow . Rich jewels in themselves such lustre cast , As gold about them , is no grace , but Wast . Such was his Genius : Like the eyes quick wink ; Hee could write sooner , then an other think . His play was Fancies flame , a lightning wit , So shot , that it could sooner pierce , then hit . What e're he pleas'd , though but in sport to prove , Appear'd as true , as pitty dwells with love . Had he said thus , That discreet zeale might stan Both with the Iesuit , and the Puritan , T 'had been believ'd ; That ●…tost from heat proceeds . That chastity from ease , and fulnesse breeds ; That women ought to wooe , as Eve at first Woo'd Man , to make the world , and man accurst . All would be taken up for Truth : and sense Which knew Truth coming , would not going hence . Had he maintain'd Rich Lucans worke had been Meere History ; there would no pen be seen , To call it Poem . If for Caesar stood , Great Pompey should be neither weak , nor Good . Oh! had he liv'd to plead the craggy Law , Which now unsetled holds the world in awe ▪ He would have met some Ostracisme , I feare , Lest he had charm'd the purple Iudge to erre . Nor could he only in his Native speech Robe his ripe thoughts ; but even the Copious , Rich , And lofty Greek , with Latine , did appeare In him , as Orient in their proper sphere : That when in them , himselfe he pleas'd t' expresse ; The ravisht hearer , could not but confesse , He might as well old Rome , or Athens claime For birth , as Britaine , circled with the Maine . 'T is true , we have these lauguages still left ; But spoken , as apparrell got by theft Is worne : disguis'd , and shadowed . Had hee Liv'd but with us , till grave maturity ; Though wee should ever in his change have lost , Wee might have gaind enough whereof to boast Our nations better Genius ; But now Our hopes are nipt , e're they began to blow And sure I am , his losse must needs strike deep , For whom in verse , thus Englands Eye doth weepe . Whose teares thus dew'd upon his mournefull dust I will not longer trouble . They that must Carp though at best things ; let them only read ; These Poems here will strike that humour dead . Which I should praise too : but in them I see There is one blemish ; for he hath nam'd mee . Else , I 'le not think the Reader so distrest In wit : but that he will admire the rest . Concluding thence , though in his forenoon-youth , ( And what I now shall write is modest truth , ) He knowes not him , who doth so much excell , That could so quickly , doe so much , so well . OWEN FELTHAM Gent.
On the death of Mr Randolph . WHen Donne , and Beaumont dyed , an Epitaph Some men ( I well remember ) thought unsafe ; And said they did presume to write , unlesse They could their teares in their expression dresse . But love makes me more bold , and telles me I In humble termes to vent my piety May safely dare ; and reason thinks not fit , For which I lov'd , I now should feare that wit . Respect lookes like a bargaine , if confinde To rules precise ; and is more just then kinde . If by a poiz'd and equall testament It turnes good-will , into a covenant ; Must every present offer'd to a Prince Be just proportion'd to his eminence ? Or ought my Elegy unjust be thought Because I cannot mourne thee as I ought ? Such lawes as these , ( if any be so bold ) Ought those unskilfull but proud soules to hold , Who think they could and did , at a due rate Love thee ; not mee , whose love was passionate , And hath decreed ▪ how ere the censure goe , Thus much , although but thus , to let men know . I doe admire no Comet did presage The mournfull period of thy wonder'd age ; Or that no Sybill did thy death fore tell , Since that by it alone more ill befell The Laurell-God , then when the day was come Wherein his Delphick-Oracle was dumbe : In meaner wits that proverbe chance may hold ( That they which are soon ripe are seldome old ) But 't was a poore one , and for thee unfit , Whose infancy might teach their best years wit ; Whose talk was exemplary to their pains , And whose discourse was tutor to their streines ; If thou wert serious , then the audience Heard Platoe's works in Tullies eloquence : If sad , the mourners knew no thrifty size In teares , but still cri'd out , oh lend more eyes . If merry , then the juyce of Comedy Soe sweetned every word , that we might see Each stander by having enough to doe To temper mi●…th , untill some friend could wooe Thee take the pains to write , that so that pressure Checking thy soules quick motions , some small leasure Might be obtain'd to make provision Of breath , against the next Scen's action . I could goe through thy works , which will survive The funerall of time ; and gladly strive Beyond my power , to make that love appeare Which after death is best seen in a teare ; But praising one , I should dispraise the rest , Since whatsoere thou didst , was still the best : Since then I am perswaded that in thee Wit at her acmie was , and wee shall see Posterity not daring to aspire To equalize , but only to admire The●… as their archetype ; with thought of thee Henceforth I 'le thus enrich my memory . While others count fro●… Earth-quakes , and great frost ; And say i' th' last deare yeare , 't would thus much cost . My time-distinctions this shall be among , Since wits-decay , or Randolph's death , — so long . R. GOSTELOW . Mr. A. Oxon.
To the pious Memory of my deare Brother in-Law Mr Thomas Randolph . REaders , prepare your Fayth ; who truly tells His History , must needs write miracles . Hee lisp'd Wit worthy th' Presse , as if that hee Had us'd his Cradle as a Librarie . Some of these Fruits had birth , when other Boyes ( His Elders ) play'd with Nuts ; Books were his Toyes . Hee had not long of Playes Spectatour beene But his small Feete wore Socks fit for the Scene . Hee was not like those costive Wits , who blot A quire of paper to contrive a Plot. And e're they name it , crosse it , till it look Rased with wounds like an old Mercers Book . What pleas'd this yeare , is next in peices torne , It suffers many deaths e're it be borne . For Humours to lye leidger they are seene Oft in a Taverne , and a Bowling-greene . They doe observe each place , and company , As strictly as a Traveller or Spie . And deifying dunghills , seeme t' adore The scumme of people , Watchman , Changling , Whore . To know the vice , and ignorance of all , With any Ragges they 'le drink a pot of Ale ; Nay , what is more ( a strange unusuall thing With Poets ) they will pay the reckoning ; And sit with patience an houre by th' Heeles To learne the Non-sence of the Constables . Such Iig ▪ like flim-flams being got to make The Rabble laugh , and nut-cracking forsake , They goe Home ( if th' have any ) and there sit In Gowne and Night-cap looking for some wit . E're they compose , they must for a long space Be dieted as Horses for the race . They must not Bacon , Beefe , or Pudding eate , A jest may chance be starv'd with such grosse meate . The Good Houre come , and their Braine tun'd , they write , But slow as dying men their Wills indite . They pen by drams and scruples , from their quill Words ( although dreggy ) flow not , but distill . They sta●…e , and sowre their faces ; nay to vent The Braines they eate their fingers excrement : And scratch their Heads , as if they were about ( Their wit so hide ▪ bound is ) to pull it out . Ev'ry bald speech though Comicall it bee To their rack'd members proves a Tragoedie . When they have had the Counsell of some freind , And of their begging Epilogue made an end , Their Play salutes the world , and claimes the Stage For its inheritance , being now of Age. But while they pump't their Phansy day and night ; Hee nothing harder found then not to write . No dyet could corrupt , or mend his straine ; All tempers were the best to his sure Braine . He could with raptures captivate the King , Yet not endanger Button , or Bandstring . Poems from him gush'd out so readily As if they 'd only been in 's Memory ; Yet are they with as marble fancies wrought , As theirs whose pen waits for the thirteenth thought . They erre who say things quickly done soone fade ; Nature and Hee all in an Instant made . Those that doe measure Fansies by the glasse , And dote on such as cost more time , may passe In rank with Gulls , whom folly doth e●…tice To thinke that best which has the greatest price . Who poreing on , their Spungy Braine still squeeze , Neglect the creame , and only save the Lees. Stopping their flying quill , they clip Fames wing , Make Helicon a puddle that 's a Spring . Nor was his Hast hood winkt ; his Rage was wise , His Fury counsell had , his rashnesse eyes . Though hee ( as Engines arrowes ) shot forth wit , Yet aim'd with all the proper marks to hit . His Inke ne're stain'd the Surplice ; he doth right That sometimes takes a care to misse the White . Hee turn'd no Scripture phrase into a jest ; Hee was inspir'd with raptures , not possest . Some Divelish Poets thinke their Muse does ill Vnlesse their verses doe prophane or kill . They boldly write what I should feare to thinke , Words that doe pale their paper , black their Inke . The Titles of their Satyrs fright some , more Then Lord have mercy writ upon a doore . Although his wit was sharp as others , yet It never wounded ; thus a Razer set In a wise Barbers hand tickles the skin , And leaves a smooth not carbonaded chin . So soveraigne was his Phan sy , that you 'd think His quickning pen did Balsam drop not Inke . Read's Elegies and you will see his praise Doth many soules 'fore th' Resurrection raise No venom 's in his Book ; his very S●…ake You may as safely as a Flower take . There 's none needs feare to surfet with his phrase , He has no Gyant raptures to amaze And torture weake capacities with wonder : He ( by his Laurell guarded ) nere did Thunder As those strong bumbast Wits , whose Poetrie Sounds like a Charme , or Spanish Pedigree . Who with their Phancy towring 'bove the Sun , Have in their stile Babells confusion . If puny eyes doe read their verses , they Will think 't is Hebrew writ the English way . His Lines doe runne smooth as the feet of time ; Each leafe though rich , swells not with gouty rime . Here is no thrum , or knot ; Arachne ne're Weav'd a more even webb ; and as they are Listed for smoothnesse , so in this againe That each Thread 's spun , and warp'd by his own braine . We have some Poetasters , who although They ne're beyond the writing-Schoole did goe , Sit at Apollo's Table , when as they But midwives are , not Parents to a Play . Were they betray'd , they 'd be each Coblers scoffe , Laught at , as one whose Periwig's blowne off . Their Braines lye all in Notes ; Lord ! how they 'd looke If they should chance to loose their Table-book ! Their Bayes , like Ivy , cannot mount at all But by some neighbouring tree , or joyning wall . With what an extasy shall we behold This Book , which is no Ghost of any old Wormeaten Authour ; here s no jest , or hint , But had his Head both for it's Ore an' mint . Wer 't not for some Translations , none could know Whether he had e're look'd in Book or no. He could discourse of any subject , yet No cold premeditated sence repeat ; As he that nothing at the Table talkes , But what was cook'd in 's study or the walkes ; Whose wit ( like a sun-diall ) only can Goe true in this , or that Meridian . Each Climate was to him his proper Spheare ; You 'd think he had been brought up every where . Was he at Court ? his Complements would be Rich wrought with Phansies best embroderie ; Which the spruse Gallants Echo like would speake So oft , as they 'd be thread-bare in a weeke . They lov'd even his Abuses , the same ●…eere So witty 't was , would sting and please their eare . Read's flowry Pastoralls , and you will sweare Hee was not Iohnsons only , but Pans Heire . His smooth Amyntas would perswade even me To think he alwaies liv'd in Sicilie . Those happier Groves that shaded him , were all As Trees of knowledge , and Propheticall : Dodon's were but the type of them , Leaves were Books in old time , but became Schollers here . Had he liv'd till Westminster Hall was seen In Forrest Townes , perhaps he fin'd had been . Whilst others made Trees Maypoles , he could doe As Orpheus did , and make them Dancers too . But these were the light sports of his spare time ; He was as able to dispute , as rime . And all ( two gifts ne're joyn'd before ) outwent As well in Syllogisme as Complement . Who looks within his clearer Glasse , will say At once he writ an Ethick Tract and Play . When he in Cambridge Schooles did moderate , ( Truth never found a subtler Advocate ) He ▪ had as many Auditours , as those Who preach , their mouths being Silenc'd , through the Nose . The Grave Divines stood gazing , as if there In words was colour , or in th' eye an eare : To heare him they would penetrate each other , Embrace a Throng , and love a noy some smother . Though plodding Pates much time and oyle had spent In beating out an obscure Argument ; He could untie , not break , the subtlest knot Their puzling Art could weave ; nay he had got The trick on 't so , as if that he had been Within each Braine , and the nice folding seen . Who went to th' Schooles Peripateticks , came , If he disputed , home in Plato's name . His Oppositions were as Text ; some le'd With wonder , thought he had not urg'd but read . Nor was his Iudgment all Philosophy ; He was in points of deepe Divinitie Only Not Doctor ; his true Catho'lique Braine The Learning of a Councell did containe . But all his Works are lost , his Fire is out ; These are but 's Ashes , which were throwne about And now rak'd up together ; all wee have With pious sacriledge snatch'd from his Grave Are a few meteours ; which may make it ●…e'd That TOM is yet alive , but Randolph's dead . Thus when a Merchant posting o're the sea With his rich loaden shippe is cast away ; Some light small Wares doe swim unto the shore , But th ▪ great and solid Prizes ne're rise more . RIC. WEST . Bac. of Arts , and Student of Chr. Church .
ON THE INESTIMABLE CONTENT HE INIOYES IN THE MVSES ; TO THOSE of his Friends that dehort him from POETRY . GOE sor did earth , and hope not to bewitch My high-borne soule , that flies a nobler pitch ! Thou can'st not tempt her with adulterate show , She beares no appetite that flaggs so low . Should both the Indies spread their lapps to me , And court my eyes to wish their Treasurie , My better will they neither could entice ; Nor this with gold , nor that with all her spice . For what poore things had these possessions showne , When all were mine , but I were not mine owne ! Others in pompous wealth their thoughts may please , And I am rich in wishing none of these . For say ; which happinesse would you beg first , Still to have drink , or never to haue thirst ? No servants on my beck attendant stand , Yet are my passions all at my command ; Reason within me shall sole ruler be , And every sense shall we are her livery . Lord of my selfe in cheife ; when they that have More wealth , make that their Lord , which is my slaue . Yet I as well as they , with more content Have in my selfe a Houshold government . My intellectuall soule hath there possest The Stewards place , to governe all the rest . When I goe forth my Eyes too Vshers are , And dutifully walke before me bare . My Leggs run Footmen by me . Goe or stand My ready Armes waite close on either hand . My Lipps are Porters to the dangerous dore : And either Eare a trusty Auditor : And when abroad I goe , Fancy shall be My skilfull Coachman , and shall hurry me Through Heaven & Earth , and Neptune's watry plaine , And in a moment drive me back againe . The charge of all my Cellar , Thirst , is thine ; Thou Butler art and Yeoman of my wine . Stomacke the Cooke , whose dishes best delight , Because their only sawce is Appetite . My other Cooke digestion ; where to me Teeth carve , and Palat will the taster be . And the two Eylids , when I goe to sleepe , Like carefull groomes my silent chamber keepe . Where least a cold oppresse my vitall part , A gentle fire is kindled by the Heart . And least too great a heat procure my paine , The Lungs fanne winde to coole those parts againe . Within the inner closet of my braine Attend the nobler members of my traine . Invention Master of my Mint growes there , And Memory my faithfull Treasurer . And though in others 't is a treacherous part , My Toungue is Secretary to my heart . And then the pages of my soule and sense , Love , Anger , Pleasure , Griefe , Concupiscence , And all affections else are taught t' obey Like subjects , not like favourites to sway . This is my Mannor-house , and men shall see I here live Maister of my family . Say then thou man of worth ; in what degree May thy proud fortunes over-ballance me ? Thy many barks plough the rough Oceans backe ; And I am never frighted with a wracke . Thy flocks of sheepe are numberlesse to tell ; And with one fleece I can be cloth'd as well . Thou hast a thousand severall farmes to let ; And I doe feede on ne're a Tenants sweat . Thou hast the Commons to Inclosure brought ; And I have fixt a bound to my vast thought . Variety is sought for to delight Thy witty and ambitious Appetite ; Three Elements , at least , dispeopled be , To satisfie judicious gluttony ▪ And yet for this I love my Commons here , Above the choicest of thy dainty cheere . Noe widdowes curse caters a dish of mine , I drinke no teares of Orphans in my wine . Thou maist perchance to some great office come , And I can rule a Common wealth at home . And that preheminence injoy more free , Then thou puft up with vaine Authority . What boots it him a large command to have , Whose every part is some poore vices slave ! Which over him as proudly Lords it there , As o're the rusticke he can domineere . Whilst he poore swaines doth threat , in his own eyes Lust and Concupiscence doe Tyrannize . Ambition wrackes his heart with jealous feare , And bastard flattery captivates his eare . He on posterity may fixe his care , And I can study on the times that were . He stands upon a pinacle to show His dangerous height , whilst I sit safe below . Thy father hords up gold for thee to spend , When death will play the office of a friend , And take him hence , which yet he thinkes too late : My nothing to inherit is a fate Above thy birth-right , should it double be ; No longing expectation tortures me . I can my fathers reverend head survay , And yet not wish that every haire were gray . My constant Genius sayes I happier stand , And richer in his life , then in his land . And when thou hast an heyre , that for thy gold Will thinke each day makes thee an yeare to old ; And ever gaping to possesse thy store , Conceives thy age to be above fourescore 'Cause his is one and twenty , and will pray The too slow houres to hast , and every day Bespeake thy Coffin , cursing every bell , That he heares tole , 'cause 't is anothers knell ; ( And justly at thy life he may repine , For his is but a wardship during thine . ) Mine shall have no such thoughts , if I have one He shall be more a pupill then a sonne : And at my grave weepe truth , and say deaths hand , That bountifully unto thine gave land , But rob'd him of a Tutor ; Cursed store ! There is no piety but amongst the poore . Goe then confesse which of us fathers be The happier made in our posterity : I in my Orphane that hath nought beside His vertue , thou in thy rich parricide . Thou severall Artists doest imploy to show The measure of thy lands ; that thou maist know How much of earth thou hast : while I doe call My thoughts to scan how little 't is in all . Thou hast thy hounds to hunt the timorous hare , The crafty fox , or the more noble deere ; Till at a fault perchance thy Lordship be , And some poore citty varlet hunt for thee . For 't is not poore Actaeons fault alone ; Hounds have devour'd more Masters sure then one . Whilst I the while pursueing my content , With the quicke Nostrils of a judgement , sent The hidden steps of nature , and there see Your game maintain'd by her Antipathye . Thou hast a Hawke , and to that height doth flye Thy understanding , if it soare so high : While I my soule with Eagles Pinions wing , To stoope at Heaven , and in her Talons bring A glorious constellation , sporting there With him whose belt of starres adornes the spheare . Thou hast thy landskips , and the painters try With all their skill to please thy wanton eye . Here shadowy groves , and craggy mountaines there ; Here Rivers headlong fall , there springs runne cleare ; The Heavens bright Raies through clouds must azure show , Circled about with Iris gawdy bow . And what of this ? I reall Heavens doe see , True springs , true groves ; whilst yours but shadows be . Nor of your houshhold stuffe so proudly boast , Compos'd of curiosity and cost . Your two best chambers are unfurnished , Th' inner and upper roome , the heart and head . But you will say the comfort of a life Is in the partner of our joyes , a wife . You may have choice of brides , you need not wooe The rich , the faire ; they both are proferd you : But what fond virgin will my love preferre , That only in Parnassus joynture her ! Yet thy base ma●…ch I scorne , an honest pride I harbour here that scornes a market bride . Neglected beauty now is priz'd by gold , And sacred love is basely bought and sold. Wives are growne traffique , marriage is a trade , And when a nuptiall of two hearts is made , There must of moneyes too a wedding be , That coine as well as men may multiplye . O humane blindnesse ! had we eyes to see , There is no wealth to valiant poetry ! And yet what want I Heaven or Earth can yeeld ? Me thinkes I now possesse the Elisian field . Into my chest the yellow Tagus flowes , While my plate fleete in bright Pactolus rowes . Th' Hesperian Orchard's mine ; mine , mine is all : Thus am I rich in wealth poëticall . Why strive you then my friends to circumvent My soule , and rob me of my blest content ? Why out of ignorant love counsell you me To leave the Muses and my poëtry ? Which should I leave and never follow more , I might perchance get riches and be poore .
In Anguem , qui Lycorin dormientem amplexus est . VEr erat , & flores per apertum libera campum ( Vt Cereris spes una ) legit mea flamma Lycoris . At nimio tandem studio , nimioque labore Admisit somnos virides defessa per herbas . Vtque erat , & placidum carpebant membrasoporem , Alternâ varius maculâ de flore propinquo Per vestes tacitè subrepsit Lubricus anguis . Vidi ego , & attonitam perculsus frigore mentem , Omnia pertimui : Tu me Rhodopëia conjux Serpentum insidiis blando direpta marito , Prima feris : sed cum tendentem innoxia vidi Spicula , nec lassae fraudem intentare puellae : Quam longè timor hic abiit , maiore secuto Namque levis totum lustravit vipera corpus ; Iamque suam Lybiam & steriles fastidit arenas : Et mirata femur , ventremque atque ubera lacte Candidiora suo ; Tali fas , dixit , in arvo Fas mihi semper erit , perque istos serpere colles . Me videt & metuens cerni fugit improbus anguis . Sub niveoque latet collo , sua lilia credens ; Purpureis mox usque genis allapsus , in istis Tutiùs est haerere rosis , & dulciùs , inquit . Tum frontem spectans , venasque in fronte tumentes , Quaenam ( ait ille ) jugo violae nascuntur in isto ? Hinc ad Caesariem surgit , flavosque capillos , Et stupet ●…uratam formoso in vertice sylvam . Hesperiumque nemus iam credit , credidit hortum . Talibus aut foliis , aut tali fronde superbâ Non illi Myrtus Paphiae , Dodonaque Quercus , Thessala nec Pinus , nec erat Penëia laurus . Gaudia iam tota implêrant secura perîcli Pectora , descendit rursus , totosque per a●…tus Lascivus gestit numeroso ludere gyro . Caudaque formosum cingat dum frigida collum , Labra petit labris , & Nectaris osculalibat , Spirantesque haurit Zephiros , atque omnia Phoenix Quae potuit moriens precioso imponere bust●… . Quicquid olent Arabes , saevum non inde venenum , Sed velut Hyblaeos discurrens incola campos , Mella legit nova naper Apis : jam credite , possit Inter Aristaei serpens armenta vagari . Ah quoties metui coelestes frigidus Artes , Rivalemque Iovem ! formâ ne callidus istâ Appeteret nostram , petiit Deoïda Nympham . Exerit ille caput ( toto iam corde voluptas Insedit ) Cantuque suae blanditur amicae , Dulciaque erectis 〈◊〉 sibila cristis . Excutitur Nymphae ●…omnus ; iam membra refecta Luminaque attollit totum admittentia Phoebum . Dumque ibi dispersos flores , lapsamque coronam Colligit in gremio , maculosus cernitur angui●… . Illa ( sibi notae quanta est fiducia formae ! ) Nil metuens , tenerum tractavit pollice vermem , Admovitque sinu , colloque & pectore fovit . Hic ludens modo per digitos novus annulus ib●…t , Splendida nunc mediam complexus Zonae puellam ; Vivaque per teretes pendens armilla lacertos . Gratior ut fieret cultus , in mille figuras Flectitur , innumeros ●…ese variavit in orbes , Candida multiplici constringens brachia nodo . Ah nimium superis , nimium est dilecta Lycoris ! Eo●…s alii fluctus , & litt●…ra rubra Scrutantur ; nulli misit priùs Africa gemmas . Perniciem quaecunque parant & flebile virus Humano generi , cupiunt ornare Lycorin . Namque ea , parva licet , summo quae pendula tect●… Nectit opus , cum de serpente monilia facta Aemula vidisset , subito novus ardor amantis Pectus agit : Serpensnè , inquit , tibi gemma Licori ? Nulla ego contulerim divinae munera formae ! Nec mora ; deposcit radios , sua retia mittit , Quaeque solet trepidis venabula tendere muscis , Et tibi subtiles meditatur Aranea telas . Tu tamen , ô serpens , qui nostris reptile felix Deliciis fruere & triplici rapis oscula linguâ , ( Sic semper novus exuviis & pelle renatâ Perfectam repetas per saecula mill●… iuventam ! ) Vestras pulchram artes & pharmaca vestra Lycorin Edoceas , longam ne sentiat illa senectam , Nec fronti turpes inscribant tempora rugas . At nova perpetuò facies , eademque Lycorin Monstret , & in speculo nunquam sese altera quaerat , Et Venerem formâ superans aevoque Sybillam . At tandem hinc abiens , ô felicissime Serpens , Quando ren●…scentes numerâsti saepius annos , Accedas aftris sidus , Pythone remoto , Fluminis in morem flexus ; Tu deinde Lycori Cum taedet vitae Serpenti proxima charo Stella nite , coelumque bea , tibi detque Cathedram Gassiopaea suam , det Bacchi Virgo Coronam .
Englished thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 THe spring was come , and all the fields growne fine My flame Lycoris like young Proserpine Went forth to gather flowers , bettring their sent They tooke more sweetnesse from her , then they lent . Now loaden with her harvest , and o'repress't With her sweete toyle , she laid her downe to rest . Lyllies did strow her couch , and proud were growne To beare a whitnesse purer then their owne . Roses fell downe soft pillowes to her head , And blusht themselves into a deeper red To emulate her cheekes : Flora did set Her maids to worke to weave the Violet Into a purple rugge , to shield the faire Lycoris from the malice of the Ayre . When loe a snake hid in the neighbour bowres , ( Ah who could think treason should lurke in flowers ? ) Shootes forth her checker'd skin , and gently creepes Ore my Lycoris , that as gently sleepes . I saw it , and a sodaine frost possest My frighted soule in my then troubled brest . What feares appear'd not to my mind and me ? Thou first wert call'd bemoan'd Euridice ; By serpents envy forced to expire , From Orpheus rapt , and his death conquering lyre . But when I found he wore a guiltlesse sting , And more of love did then of treason bring : How quickly could my former feare depart ; And to a greater leave my iealous heart ! For the smooth Viper every member scands , Africk he loaths now , and the barren sands That nurst him , wondring at the glorious sight Of thighes and belly , and her brests more white Then their owne milke : Ah might I still ( quoth he ) Grawle in such fields , 'twixt two such mountaines be ! There me he spied , and fearing to be seen , Shrowds to her neck , thinking 't had Lyllies been . But viewing her bright cheekes , he soone did crye Vnder you Roses shall I safer lye . Thence did her forehead with full veines appeare , Good heaven ( quoth he ) what violets growe here On this cleare Promontary ? Hence he slides Vp to her lockes , and through her tresses glides , Her yellow tresses ; dazel'd to behold A glistring groue , an intire wood of Gold . Th' Hesperian wood he thinkes he now hath seene , That thought , But now , they had an Orchard beene ; For leaves and boughs the Archimenian vine , The Dodon Oak and the Thessalian Pine must yeeld to these , no trees so bright as they , Nor Paphian Mirtles , nor Penëian bay ! Ioy now filld all his brest , no timorows feare Of danger could find roome to harbour there . Downe slips he and about each limbe he hurles His wanton body into numerous curles . And while his taile had throwne it selfe a chaine About her necke , his head beares up againe ; With his black lips her warmer lips he greets , And there with kisses steept in Nectar meets . Thence Zephyr's breath he suckes , then doth he smell Perfumes that all th' Arabian gummes excell . And spices that doe build the Phoenix Pyre , When she renewes her youth in funerall fire . Nor seekes he poyson there , but like the Bee That on mount Hybla plyes her husbandry . He gathers honey thence , now , now I know With Aristaeus flocks a snake may goe . Ah cold at heart , I fear'd some heavenly sleight , And love my rival ; that his old deceit Had once againe this borrowed shape put on To court my Nimph , as he Deöis wonne . Up lift the snake his head ( for pleasure now Held all his soule ) and with erected brow To flatter's Loue he sung ; he strives to play , And hisses forth a well tun'd Roundelay . This wakes the Nymph ; her eyes admit the day ; Here flowers , and there her scatter'd garlands lay , Which as shee picks up and with bents retyes , Shee in her lap the speckled Serpent spyes . The Nymph no signe of any terrour shows , ( How bold is beauty when her strength shee knows ! ) And in her hand the tender worm shee grasp'd , While it sometimes about her finger clasp'd A ring enamel'd , then her tender wast In manner of a girdleround imbrac't ; And now upon her arme a braslet hung , Where for the greater ornament , he flung His limber body into severall folds , And twenty winding figures , where it holds Her amorous pulse , in many a various twist , And many a love-knot tyes upon her wrist . Lycoris to the Gods thou art too deare , And too too much of heaven belov'd I feare . This or that Nymph's the red-sea spoiles may be , But Lybia ne're sent Iewels but to thee . What e're to us are deaths and poysons sent , Desire to be Lycoris ornament . For that same litle spider that hangs up , Together with her web on the house top , When shee beheld the snake a bracelet made , Struck with an envy , and a love ; shee said , And shall a snake thy Gemme Lycoris bee , And such bright for me receive no tyres from mee ? Then flings her nets away , and throwing by Her subtle toyl shee sets to catch the fly ; To th' loom Arachne goes , and plyes it there , To work a robe for my Lycoris weare . But thou , ô Serpent , which so blest canst bee To reap those joyes for which I envy thee : That , happy worm , upon her lip hast hung , Sucking in kisses with thy three-fork'd tongue , ( So may'st thou age and skin together cast , And oft recall thy youth , when it is past . ) Teach my Lycoris what your Arts may bee , Let her th' Ingredients of thy Cordials see . That shee may ne're grow old , that times dull plow May never print a wrincle in her brow . I charge thee in the pow'rfull Cupids name May a new beauty alwayes and the same Lycoris shew , ne're may shee in her glasse Look for her own , and find another face . Venus for beauty may shee then appear , When shee has liv'd to old Sybilla's year , And when , deare snake , thou wilt no more renew Thy youthfull vigour , bid base earth adiew . Adde glory to the night , or from his spheare Huge Python pull and fix thy torches there : Where like a river thou shalt bending go , And through the Orbe a starry torrent flow . And thou Lycoris , when th' art pleas'd to take No more of life , next thy beloved Snake Shine forth a constellation , full , and bright ; Blesse the poor heavens with more majestick light . Who in requitall shall present you there , Ariadnes Crown , and Cassiopae as Chayr .
A complaint against Cupid that he never made him in Love . HOw many of thy Captives ( Love ) complaine Thou yoak'st thy slaves in too severe a chaine ? I' have heard 'em their Poetique malice shew , To curse thy Quiver , and blaspheme thy bow . Calling thee boy , and blind ; threatning the rod ; Prophanely swearing that thou art no God . Or if thou be ; not from the starry place ; But born below , and of the Stygian race . But yet these Atheists that thy shafts dislike , Thou canst be freindly to , and daigne to strike . This on his Cloris spends his thoughts and time ; That chaunts Corinna in his amorous rime . A third speaks raptures , and hath gaind a wit By praising Caelia ; else had mis't of it . But I that think there can no freedom be , ( Cupid ) so sweet , as thy Captivity . I that could wish thy chains , and live content To wear them , not my Gives , but ornament : I that could any ransom pay to thee , Not to redeem , but sell my liberty ; I am neglected ; let the cause be known ; Art thou a niggard of thy arrows grown , That wert so prodigall ? or dost thou please To set thy Pillars up with Hercules Weary of conquest ? or should I disgrace Thy victories , if I were daign'd a place Amongst thy other Trophies ? none of these , Witnesse thy dayly triumphs : who but sees Thou still pursuest thy game from high to low ; No age , no Sexe can scape thy pow'rfull bow . Decrepite age whose veins and bones may bee An Argument against Philosophy , To prove an emptinesse ; that has no sense Left but his feeling , feels thy influence ; And dying dotes : not babes thy shafts can misse ; How quickly Infants can be taught to kisse ! As the poor Apes being dumb these words would borrow , I' was born to day to get a babe to morrow . Each plow-man thy propitious wounds can prove , Tilling the earth , and wishing t' were his love . Am I invulnerable ? is the dart Rebeaten , which thou level'st at my heart ? Ill rest my Parents bones , if they have done As Tethis once did to her God-like sonne The great Archilles , dipt in Stygian lake ; Though I am so , Cupid , thy arrows take , Try where I am not proof , and let me feel Thy ' archery , if not i' th heart , i' th heel . Perchance my heart lyes there ; who would not be A Coward , to be valiant made by thee . I cannot say thy blindnesse is the cause , That I am barr'd the freedom of thy laws ; The wretched out-Law of thy Mothers Court , That place of comfort , Paradise of sport . For they may say , that say thou blind canst be , Eagles want eyes , and only moles can see . Not Argus with so many lights did shine , For each fair Ladies sparkling eyes are thine . Think'st thou because I doe the Muses love , I in thy Camp would a faint souldier prove ? How came Musaeus , and Anacreon then Into thy troops ? how came Tibullus pen Amongst thy spears ; and how came Ovid ( say ) To be enrold great Generall in thy pay ? And doubts thou me ? suspect you I will tell The hidden misteries of your Paphian cell , To the straight lac'd Diana ? or betray The secrets of the night , unto the day ? No Cupid , by thy mothers doves I swear , And by her sparrows , 't is an idle fear . If Philomel descend to sport with me ; Know I can be ( great Love ) as dumb as shee , Though shee hath lost her tongue ; in such delights All should be like her , only talk by nights : Make me thy Preist ( if Poets truth divine ) I 'le make the Muses wanton ; at thy shrine They all shall wait ; and Dian's selfe shall be A votresse to thy Mothers Nunnerie . Where zeale with nature shall maintaine no strife ; Where none swear chastity , and single life . To Venus-Nuns an easier oath is read , Shee breaks her vow , that keeps her maiden head . Reject not then your Flamin's ministry : Let me but deacon in thy Temples be : And see how I shall touch my pow'rfull lyre , And more inspir'd with thine , then Phoebus fire , Chaunt such a moving verse , as soon should frame Desire of dalliance in the coyest dame ; Melting to amorous thoughts her heart of stone ; And force her to untrusse her Virgin Zone . Is Lucrece , or Penelope alive ? Give me a Spartan Matron , Sabine wife ; Or any of the vestals hither call , And I will make them be thy converts all . Who like good Proselites more in heart then show , Shall to thy origies all so zealous go , That Thais shall , nor Helen such appeare ; As if they only Loves precisians were . But now my Muse dull heavy numbers sings , Cupid 't is thou alone giv'st verse her wings . The Lawrell-wreath I never shall obtaine , Vnlesse thy torch illuminate my braine . Love Laurell gives ; Phoebus as much can say , Had not he lov'd , there had not been the Bay . Why is my Presentation then put by ? Who is 't that my Induction dares deny ? Can any Lady say I am unfit ? If so , I 'le sue my Quare Impedit . I 'am young enough , my spirits quick and good ; My veins swell high with kind and active blood . Nor am I marble ; when I see an eye Quick , bright , and full , ' raid round with maiestie ; I feel my heart with a strange heat opprest , As 't were a lightning darted through my brest . I long not for the cherries on the Tree , So much as those which on a lip I see . And more affection beare I to the Rose That in a cheek , then in a garden grows . I gaze on beauteous Virgins with delight , And feel my temper vary at the sight ; I know not why ; but warmer streams doe glide Thorough my veins , sure 't is a wanton tide . But you perchance esteem my love the lesse , Because I have a foolish bashfulnesse , A shame-fac'd rose you find within my face , Whose modest blush frights you from my embrace ; That 's ready now to fall , if you 'le but daigne To pluck it once , it shall not grow againe . Or doe you therefore cast my love away , Because I am not expert in the play ? My skill's not known till it be ventred on ; I have not Aristotle read alone . I am in Ovid a proficient too ; And if you 'd heare my Lecture , could to you Analize all his art , with so much more Iudgment and skill , then e're 't was taught before . , That I might be cheife master , he , dull foole , The under usher in the Cyprian Schoole : For petty Paedagogue , poore Pedant , he First writ the Art , and then the remedie : But I could set downe rules of love so sure , As should exceed Art , and admit no cure . Pictures I could invent ( Love , were I thine ) As might stand copies unto Aretine ▪ And such new dalliance study , as should frame Variety in that which is the same . I am not then uncapable ( great Love ) Would'st thou my skill but with one arrow prove . Giue me a Mistresse in whose looks to joy , And such a Mistresse ( Love ) as will be coy , Not easily wonne , though to be wonne in time ; That from her nicenesse I may store my rhime : Then in a Thousand sighes , to thee I 'le pay My Morning Orisons , and every day Two Thousand groans , and count these amorous prayers I make to thee , not by my Beads , but Teares . Besides , each day I 'le write an Elegy , And in as lamentable Poetry As any Inns of Court-man , that hath gone To buy an Ovid with a Littleton . But ( Love ) I see you will not entertaine Those that desire to Live amidst your traine ; For death and you have got a trick to fly From such poore wretches as doe wish you nigh . You scorne a yeelding slave ; and plainly shew it , Those that contemne your pow'er you make to know it . And such am I ; I slight your proud commands ; I mar'le who put a bow into your hands ; A hobby-horse , or some such pretty toy , A rattle would befit you better , Boy . You conquer Gods and men ? how stand I free , That will acknowledge no supremacie Vnto your childish Godhead ? does it cry ? Give it a plumme to still it 's Diety . Good Venus let it suck ; that it may keep Lesse bawling ; gentle Nurse rock it a sleep . Or if you be past babie ; and are now Come to weare breeches , much we then allow Your Boy ship leave to shoot at whom you please ? No , whip it for such wanton tricks as these : If this doe anger you , I 'le send a Bee , Shall to a single duell challenge thee : And make you to your Mam run , and complaine The litlle serpent stung thee once againe . Go hunt the butter flyes , and if you can But catch 'em , make their wings into a fan . Wee 'le give you leave to hunt and sport at them , So you let men alone . — But I blaspheme ( Great Love ) I feare I have offended thee , If so , be mercifull , and punish me .
A gratulatory to Mr Ben. Iohnson for his adopting of him to be his Son . I Was not borne to Helicon , nor dare Presume to thinke my selfe a Muses heire . I have no title to Parnassus hill , Nor any acre of it by the will Of a dead Ancestour , nor could I bee Ought but a tenant unto Poëtrie . But thy Adoption quits me of all feare , And makes me challenge a childs portion there . I am a kinne to Hero's being thine , And part of my alliance is divine . Orpheus , Musaeus , Homer too ; beside Thy Brothers by the Roman Mothers side ; As Ovid , Virgil , and the Latine Lyre , That is so like thy Horace ; the whole quire Of Poets are by thy Adoption , all My uncles ; thou hast given me pow'r to call Phoebus himselfe my grandsire ; by this graunt Each Sister of the nine is made my Aunt . Go you that reckon from a large descent Your lineall Honours , and are well content To glory in the age of your great name , Though on a Herralds faith you build the same : I do not envy you , nor thinke you blest Though you may beare a Gorgon on your Crest By direct line from Perseus ; I will boast No farther then my Father ; that 's the most I can , or should be proud of ; and I were Vnworthy his adoption , if that here I should be dully modest ; boast I must Being sonne of his Adoption , not his lust . And to say truth , that which is best in mee May call you father , 't was begot by thee . Have I a sparke of that coelestiall flame Within me , I confesse I stole the same Prometheus like , from thee ; and may I feed His vulture , when I dare deny the deed . Many more moones thou hast , that shine by night , All Bankrups , wer 't not for a borrow'd light ; Yet can forsweare it ; I the debt confesse , And thinke my reputation ne're the lesse . For Father let me be resolv'd by you ; Is 't a disparagement from rich Peru To ravish gold ; or theft , for wealthy Ore To ransack Tagus , or Pactolus shore ? Or does he wrong Alcinous , that for want Doth take from him a sprig or two , to plant A lesser Orchard ? sure it cannot bee : Nor is it theft to steale some flames from thee , Grant this , and I 'le cry guilty , as I am , And pay a filiall reverence to thy name . For when my Muse upon obedient knees , Askes not a Fathers blessing , let her leese The fame of this Adoption ; 't is a curse I wish her 'cause I cannot thinke a worse . And here , as Piety bids me , I intreat Phoebus to lend thee some of his own heat , To cure thy Palsie ; else I will complaine He has no skill in hearbs ; Poets in vaine Make him the God of Physicke ; 't were his praise To make thee as immortall as thy Baies ; As his owne Daphne ; 't were a shame to see The God , not love his Preist , more then his Tree . But if heaven take thee , envying us thy Lyre , 'T is to pen Anthems for an Angels quire .
In Lesbiam , & Histrionem . I Wonder what should Madam Lesbia meane To keep young Histrio , and for what scene So bravely shee maintaines him ; that what sence He please to blesse , 't is done at her expence ! The play-boy spends secure ; he shall have more ; As if both Indies did supply his store . As if he did in bright Pactolus swim , Or Tagus yellow waves did water him : And yet has no revenews to defray These charges , but the Madam , shee must pay His prodigall disbursments : Madams are To such as he , more then a treble share . Shee payes ( which is more then shee needs to doe ) For her owne comming in , and for his too . This is reward due to the sacred sin ; No charge too much done to the beardlesse chin : Allthough shee stint her poore old Knight Sr Iohn , To live upon his exhibition , His hundred marks per Annum ; when her Ioy , Her sanguine darling , her spruce active boy May scatter Angels ; rub out filks , and shine In cloths of gold ; cry loud the world is mine : Keepe his Race-nags , and in Hide-parke be seen Briske as the best ( as if the stage had been Grownethe Court's Rivall ) can to Brackly goe , To Lincolne Race , and to New-market too ; At each of these his hundred pounds has vie'd On Peggabrigs , or Shotten-herrings side ; And looses without swearing . Let them curse That neither have a Fortunatus purse , Nor such a Madam ; if this world doe hold ( As very likely 't will ) Madams growne old Will be the best Monopolies ; Histrio may At Maw , or Gleeke , or at Primero play . Still Madam goes to stake ; Histrio knows Her worth , and therefore dices too ; and goes As deepe , the Caster , as the only Sonne Of a dead Alderman , come to twenty one A whole weeke since ; you 'd know the reason why Lesbia does this ; guesse you as well as I ; Then this I can no better reason tell ; 'T is 'cause he playes the womans part so well . I see old Madams are not only toyle ; No tilth so fruitfull as a barren soyle . Ah poore day labourers , how I pitty you That shrinke , and sweat to live with much adoe ! When had you wit to understand the right , 'T were better wages to have work'd by night . Yet some that resting here , doe only thinke That youth with age is an unequall linke : Conclude , that Histrio's taske as hard must bee , As was Mezentius bloody cruelty . Who made the living to embrace the dead , And so expire : but I am rather lead His bargaine of the two the best to call ; He at one game keeps her , shee him at all
De Histrice . Ex Claudiano . FAm'd Stymphall , I have heard , thy birds in flight Shoot showers of arrowes forth all levied right . And long the fable of those quills of steele Did seeme to me a tale incredible . Now have I faith ; the Porcupine I see , And then th' Herculean birds no wonders bee . Her longer head like a swines snowt doth show ; Bristles like hornes upon her forehead grow . A fiery heat glows from her flaming eye ; Vnder her shaggy back the shape doth lye As 't were a whelpe : nature all Art hath try'd In this small beast , so strangely fortified . A threatning wood o're all her body stands ; And stiff with Pikes the spectled stalks in bands Grow to the warre ; while under those doth rise An other troope , girt with alternate dyes Of severall hue ; which while a blacke doth fill The inward space , ends in a solid quill . That lessning by degrees , doth in a while , Take a quick point , and sharpens to a Pile . Nor doth her squadrons like the hedghogs stand Fixt ; but shee darts them forth , and at command Farre of her members aimes ; shot through the skie From her shak'd side the Native Engines flie . Sometimes retiring , Farthian like , shee 'l wound Her following foe ; sometimes in trenching round , In battaile forme , marshalling all her flanks , Shee 'l clash her javelins to aff right the ranks Of her poore enemies : lineing every side With speares , to which shee is her selfe allied . Each part of her 's a souldier , from her back But stir'd , a horse and horrid noise doth crack ; That one would think the trumpets did incite Two adverse Armies to begin to fight ; So great a noise , from one so small did rise . Then to her skill in Armes shee is so wise As to adde Policy , and a thrifty feare Of her owne safety ; shee a wrath doth beare Not prodigall of weapons , but content With wary threatning ; and hath seldome sent An arrow forth , caus'd by an idle strife , But spends 'em only to secure her life ! And then her diligent stroke so certaine is Without all error , shee will seldome misse . No distance cozens her ; the dumbe skin aimes right , And rules the levy of the skillfull sight . What humane labour , though we boast it such , Withall her reason can performe so much ? They from the Cretan Goats their hornes must take ; And after , those with fire must softer make . Buls guts must bend their bows ; and e're they fight Steele armes their darts ; and fethers wing their flights . When loe a little beast wee armed see With nothing but her owne Artillery : Who seeks no for raine aide ; with her all goe , Shee to her selfe is Quiver , darts , and bow . One Creature all the Arts of warfare knows ; If from examples then the Practice flows Of humane life ; hence did th' Invention grow At distance to incounter with our foe . Hence the Cydoniaus instructed are Their Stratagems , and manner of their warre . Hence did the Parthians learne to fight , and fly ; Taught by this bird their skilfull Archery .
In Archimedis Sphaeram ex Claudiano . IOve saw the Heavens fram'd in a little glasse , And laughing , to the Gods these words did passe ; Comes then the power of mortall cares so farre ? In brittle Orbes my labours acted are . The statutes of the Poles , the faith of things , The Laws of Gods this Syracusian brings Hither by art : Spirits inclos'd attend Their severall spheares , and with set motions bend The living worke : Each yeare the faigned Sun , Each Month returnes the counterfeited Moon ; And viewing now her world , bold Industrie Grows proud , to know the heavens her subjects bee . Beleive Salmonius hath false thunders thrown , For a poore hand is Natures rivall grown .
De Magnete . Ex Claudiano . WHo in the world with busy reason pryes , Searching the seed of things , & there descryes With what defect labours th' Ecclipsed moon , What cause commands a palenesse in the Sun , Whence ruddy comets with their fatall haire , Whence winds doe flow , and what the Motions are That shake the bowels of the trembling earth ; What strikes the lightning forth ; whence clouds give birth To horrid thunders ; and doth also know What light lends lustre to the painted Bow : If ought of truth his soule doth understand , Let him resolve a question I 'le demand : There is a stone which we the loadstone stile , Of colour ugly , darke , obscure , and vile : It never deck'd the sleiked locks of Kings , No Ornament , no gorgeous Tire it brings To Virgins beauteous necks , it never showne A splendent buckle in ther maiden Zone : But only heare the wonders I will tell Of his black peeble , and 't will then excell All bracelets , and what e're the diving Moore 'Mongst the red weeds seeks for 'i th Easterne shore : From Iron first it lives , Iron it eats , But that sweet feast it knows no other meats ; Thence shee renews her strength , vigor is sent Through all her nerves by that hard nourishment ; Without that food shee dies , a famine numm's Her meager joynts , a thirst her veins consumes . Mars that frights Cities with his bloody speares , And Venus that releases humane feares , Doe both together in one Temple shine , Both joyntly honour'd in a common shrine ; But different Statues , Mars a steele put on , And Venus figure was Magnetique stone . To them ( as is the custome every yeare ) The Preist doth celebrate a Nuptiall there . The torch the Quire doth lead , the threshold's green With hallowed Mirtles , and the beds are seen To smell with rosy flowers , the Geniall sheet Spred over with a purple Coverlet . But heare ( ô strange ) the statues seem'd to move , And Cytherea runs to catch her Love ; And like their former joyes in heaven possest , With wanton heat clings to her Mars'es brest ; There hangs a gratefull burden ; then shee throwes Her armes about his helmet , to Inclose Her Love in amorous Gives , least he get out , Here live embraces chaine him round about . He stir'd with love breath'd gently through his veins , Is drawne by unseene links and secret chaines To meet his spoused Gemme ; the ayre doth wed The steele unto the stone ; thus strangely led The Deities their stolne delights replay'd , And only Nature was the bridall mayd . What heat in these two Metals did inspire Such mutuall league ? what concords powrefull fire Contracted their hard minds ? the stone doth move With amorous heat , the steele doth learne to love . So Venus oft the God of warre withstood , And gives him milder looks ; when hot with blood He rages to the fight , fierce with desire , And with drawn points whets up his active Ire ; She dares goe forth alone , and boldly meet His foaming steeds , and with a winning greet The tumour of his high swolne breast aff wage , Tempring with gentle flames his violent rage . Peace courts his foule , the fight he disavows , And his red plumes he now to kisses bows . Ah cruell Boy large thy dominions bee , The Gods and all their Thunders yeild to thee : Great Iove to leave his heaven thou can'st constraine , And midst the brinish waves to Lowe againe . Now the cold Rocks thou striks't , the sencelesse stone Thy weapon feeles , a lustfull heat doth runne Through veins of flint , the steele thy Pow'er can taine ; And rigid Marble must admit thy flame .
De Sene Veronensi . Ex Claudiano . HAppy the man that all his dayes hath spent Within his owne grounds , and no farther went : Whom the same house that did him erst behold A little Infant , sees him now grown old , That with his staffe walkes where he crawl'd before , Counts th' age of one poore cottage and no more . Fortune ne're him with various tumult prest , Nor dranke he unknown streams , a wandring guest . He fear'd no Merchants stormes , nor drummes of war , Nor ever knew the strifes of the hoarse Bar. Who though to th' next Towne he a stranger bee , Yet heav'ns sweet prospect he injoyes more free . From fruits , not Consuls , computation brings , By Apples Autumnes knows , by flowers the springs . Thus he the day by his owne orbe doth prize ; In the same feild his Sunne doth set and rise . That knew an oake a twigge , and walking thither Beholds a wood and he grown up together . Neighbou'ring Veron he may for India take , And thinke the red sea is Benacus lake . Yet is his 〈◊〉 untam'd , and firme his knees , Him the third age a lusty Grandsire sees . Goe seeke whos ' will the farre Iberian shore , This man hath liv'd , though that hath travel'd more .
The second Epod : of Horace translated . HAppy the man which farre from city care ; ( Such as ancient Mortals were ) With his own oxen plows his fathers land , Free from Vsurers griping hand . The souldiers trumpets never breake his sleepe , Nor angry seas that raging keepe . He shunnes the wrangling Hall , nor foot doth set On the proud thresholds of the Great : His life is this ( O life almost divine ) To marry Elmes unto the Vine ; To prune unfruitfull branches , and for them To graft a bough of happier stemme . Or else within the low couch'd vallies views His well cloth'd floc'ks of bleating ewes . Sometimes his hony he in pots doth keepe , Sometimes he sheares his fleecy sheepe . And when his fruits with Autumne ripened bee Gathers his Apples from the Tree . And joyes to tast the peares himselfe did plant , And Grapes that naught of purple want . Vnder an Oake sometimes he layes his head , Making the tender grasse his bed . Meane while the streams along their banks doe float , And birds doe chaunt with warbling throat ; And gentle springs a gentle murmure keepe , To lull him to a quiet sleepe . When winter comes , and th' ayre doth chiller grow , Threatning showers and shivering snow ; Either with hounds he hunts the tusked swine That foe unto the corne and vine ; Or layes his nets ; or limes the unctuous bush To catch the blackbird , or the thrush . Sometimes the Hare he courses , and one way Makes both a pleasure and a prey . But if with him a modest wife doth meet , To guide his house and children sweet ; Such as the Sabine or Apulean wife , Something brown but chast of life ; Such as will make a good warme fire to burne , Against her wearied Mate's returne ; And shutting in her stalls her fruitfull Neat , Will milke the kines distended Teat : Fetching her husband of her selfe-brew'd beere , And other wholesome Country cheere . Suppe him with bread and cheese , Pudding or Pye , Such dainties as they doe not buy : Give me but these , and I shall never care Where all the Lucrine oisters are ; These wholsome Country dainties shall to mee Sweet as Tench or Sturgeon bee . Had I but these I well could be without The Carp , the Sammon , or the Trout : Nor should the Phoenix selfe so much delight My not ambitious appetite , As should an Apple snatch'd from mine own trees , Or hony of my labouring Bees . My Cattels udders should afford me food , My sheep my cloth , my ground my wood . Sometimes a lambe , snatch'd from the wolfe shall bee A banquet for my freind and mee . Sometimes a Calfeta'ne from her lowing Cow , Or tender Issue of the Sow . Our Gardens sallets yeild , Mallows to keepe Loose bodies , Lettice for to sleepe . The cakling Hen an egge for breakfast layes , And Duck that in our water playes . The Goose for us her tender plumes hath bred To lay us on a softer bed . Our blankets are not dy'd with Orphans teares , Our Pillows are not stuff'd with cares . To walke on our owne grounds a stomack gets , The best of sawce to tart out meats . In midst of such a feast , 't is joy to come And see the well fed Lambs at home . 'T is pleasure to behold th' inversed Plow The Languid necks of Oxen bow . And view th' industrious servants that will sweat Both at labour and at meat . Lord grant me but enough ; I aske no more Then will serve mine , and helpe the poore .
An Elegie upon the Lady Venetia Digby . DEath , who 'ld not change prerogatives with thee , That dost such rapes , yet mayst not question'd bee Here cease thy wanton lust , be satisfi'd , Hope not a second , and so faire a bride . Where was her Mars , whose valiant armes did hold This Venus once , that thou durst be so bold By thy too nimble theft ? I know 't was feare , Lest he should come , that would have rescu'd her . Monster confesse , didst thou not blushing stand , And thy pale cheeke turne red to touch her hand ? Did shee not lightning-like strike suddaine heat Through thy cold limbs , and thaw thy frost to sweat ? Well since thou hast her , use her gently , Death , And in requitall of such pretious breath Watch sentinell to guard her , doe not see The wormes thy rivals , for the Gods will bee . Remember Paris , for whose pettier sin , The Troian gates let the stout Grecians in ; So when time ceases , ( whose unthrifty hand Ha's now almost consum'd his stock of sand ) Myriads of Angels shall in Armies come , And fetch ( proud ravisher ) there Helen home . And to revenge this rape , thy other store Thou shalt resigne too , and shalt steale no more . Till then faire Ladies ( for you now are faire , But till her death I fear'd your just dispaire , ) Fetch all the spices that Arabia yeelds , Distill the choycest flowers of the fields : And when in one their best perfections meet Embalme her course , that shee may make them sweet . Whilst for an Epitaph upon her stone I cannot write , but I must weepe her one . Epitaph . Beauty it selfe lyes here , in whom alone , Each part injoy'd the same perfection . In some the Eyes we praise ; in some the Haire ; In her the Lips ; in her the Cheeks are faire ; That Nymphs fine Feet , her Hands we beauteous call , But in this forme we praise no part , but all . The ages past have many beauties showne , And I more plenty in our time have knowne ; But in the age to come I looke for none , Nature despaires , because her pattern's gone .
An Epitaph upon Mrs I. T. REader if thou hast a teare , Thou canst not choose but pay it here . Here lyes modesty , meeknesse , zeale , Goodnesse , Piety , and to tell Her worth at once , one that had showne All vertues that her sex could owne . Nor dare my praise too lavish bee , Least her dust blush for soe would shee . Hast thou beheld in the spring's bowers Tender buds breake to bring forth flowers : So to keepe vertues stock , pale death Tooke her to give her infant breath . Thus her accounts were all made even , Shee rob'd not earth to adde to heaven .
An Epithalamium . MVse be a bride-maid , dost not heare How honoured Hunt and his faire Deere , This day prepare their wedding cheere ? The swiftest of thy pinions take , And hence a suddaine journey make , To helpe 'em breake their bridall Cake . Hast 'em to Church , tell 'em love sayes Religion breeds but fond delayes , To lengthen out the tedious dayes . Childe the slow Preist , that so goes on , As if he feard he should have done His sermon , e're the glasse be runne . Bid him post o're his words , as fast As if himselfe were now to tast The pleasure of so ●…aire a wast . Now lead the blessed Couple home , And serve a dinner up for some ; Their banquet is as yet to come . Maids dance as nimbly as your blood , Which I see swell a purple flood In Emulation of that good . The bride possesseth ; for I deeme What shee enjoyes will be the theme This night of every virgins dreame . But envy not their blest content , The hasty night is almost spent , And they of Cupid will be shent . The Sunne is now ready to ride , Sure 't was the morning I espide , Or 't was the blushing of the bride . See how the lusty bridegrooms veins Swell , till the active torrent strains To breake those o're stretcht azure chains . And the faire bride ready to cry To see her pleasant losse so nigh , Pants like the sealed Pigeons eye . Put out the torch , Love lovesno lights , Those that performe his misticke rites Must pay their Orisons by nights . Nor can that sacrifice be done By any Priest , or Nun alone , But when they both are met in one . Now you that tast of Hymens cheere , See that your lips doe meet so neare , That Cockels might be tutor'd there ; And let the whisprings of your love Such short and gentle murmurs prove , As they were Lectures to the dove . And in such strict embraces twine As if you read unto the Vine , The , Ivy and the Columbine . Then let your mutuall bosomes beat , Till they create by virtuall heat Mirrhe , Balme , and spikenard in a sweat . Thence may there spring many a paire Of Sonnes and Daughters strong and faire : How soone the Gods have heard my praier ! Me thinks already I espy The cradles rock , the babies cry , And drousy Nurses Lullaby .
An Epitaph upon his honour'd friend Mr Warre . HEre lyes the knowing head , the honest heart , Faire blood , and courteous hands , and every part Of gentle Warre , all with one stone content , Though each deserv'd a severall monument . He was ( beleive me Reader ) for 't is rare Virtuous though young , and learned though an heire . Not with his Blood , or Natures gifts content He paid them both their tribute which they lent . His ancestors in him fixed their pride , So with him all reviv'd , with him all dyed . This made death lingring come , asham'd to bee At once the ruine of a familie . Learne Reader here , though long thy line hath stood , Time breeds consumptions in the noblest blood . Learne ( Reader ) here to what our Glories come , Here 's no distinction 'twixt the House and Toombe .
Vpon the losse of his little finger . ARithmetique nine digits , and no more Admits of , then I still have all my store . For what mischance hath tane from my left hand , It seemes did only for a Cipher stand . But this I 'le say for thee departed joynt , Thou wert not given to steale , nor pick , nor point At any in disgrace ; but thou didst go Vntimely to thy Death only to show The other members what they once must doe ; Hand , arme , legge , thigh , and all must follow too . Oft didst thou scan my verse , where if I misse Henceforth I will impute the cause to this . A fingers losse ( I speake it not in sport ) Will make a verse a Foot too short . Farewell deare finger , much I greive to see How soone mischance hath made a Hand of thee .
On the Passion of Christ . WHat rends the temples vail , wher is day gone ? How can a generall darknesse cloud the Sun ? Astrologers their skill in vaine doe try ; Nature must needs be sick , when God can dye .
Necessary observations . 1 Precept . FIrst worship God , he that forgets to pray Bids not himselfe good morrow nor good day . Let thy first labour be to purge thy sin ; And serve him first , whence all things did begin . 2 Pre. Honour thy Parents to prolong thine end , With them though for a truth doe not contend . Though all should truth defend , doe thou loose rather The truth a while , then loose their Loves for ever . Who ever makes his fathers heart to bleed , Shall have a child that will revenge the deed . 3 Pre. Thinke that is just ; 't is not enough to doe , Vnlesse thy very thoughts are upright too . 4 Pre. Defend the truth , for that who will not dye , A coward is , and gi●…s himselfe the lye . 5 Pre. Honour the King , as sonnes their Parents doe , For he 's thy Father , and thy Country 's too . 6 Pre. A freind is gold ; if true hee le never leave thee , Yet both without a touchstone may deceive thee . 7 Pre. Suspicious men thinke others false , but hee Cozens himselfe that will too credulous bee . For thy freinds sake , let no suspect be shown ; And shun to be too credulous for thine own . 8 Pre. Take well what e're shall chance , though bad it bee ; Take it for good , and 't will be so to thee . 9 Pre. Swear not : An oath is like a dangerous dart Which shot rebounds to strike the shooters heart . 10 Pre. The law 's the path of life ; then that obey , Who keeps it not , hath wandring lost his way . 11 Pre. Thanke those that doe thee good , so shalt thou gaine Their second helpe , if thou shouldst need againe . 12 Pre. To doubtfull matters doe not headlong run ; What 's well left off , were better not begun . 13 Pre. Be well advis'd , and wary counsell make , E're thou dost any action undertake . Having undertaken , thy endeauours bend To bring thy Action to a perfect end . 14 Pre. Safe in thy brest close lock up thy Intents ; For he that knows thy purpose , best prevents . 15 Pre. To tell thy miseries will no comfort breed , Men helpe thee most that thinke thou hast no need . But if the world once thy misfortunes know , Thou soone shalt loose a freind , and find a foe . 16 Pre. Keepe thy freinds goods ; for should thy wants bee known , Thou canst not tell but they may be thine own . 17 Pre. To gather wealth through fraud doe not presume , A little evill got will much consume . 18 Pre. First thinke , and if thy thoughts approve thy will Then speake , and after what thou speakst fulfill . 19 Pre. Spare not , nor spend too much ; be this thy care , Spare but to spend , and only spend to spare . Who spends too much may want , and so complaine . But he spends best that spares to spend againe . 20 Pre. If with a stranger thou discourse first learne By strictest observations to discerne , If he be wiser then thy selfe ; if so Be dumbe , and rather choose by him to know . But if thy selfe perchance the wiser bee , Then doe thou speake that he may learne by thee , 21 Pre. If thou dispraise a man let no man know , By any circumstance that he 's thy foe : If men but once find that , they ' l quickly see Thy words from hate , and not from judgment bee . If thou wouldst tell his vice , doe what you can To make the world believe thou lov'st the man . 22 Pre. Reprove not in their wrath incensed men , Good councell comes cleane out of season then . But when his fury is appeas'd and past , He will conceive his fault and men at last . When he is coole , and calme then utter it ; No man gives Physick in the midst o th' Fit . 23 Pre. Seeme not too conscious of thy worth , nor be The first that knows thy own sufficiency . If to thy King and Country thy true care More serviceable is then others are . That blaze in court , and every Action sway As if the Kingdome on their shoulders lay . Or if thou serv'st a master , and dost see Others prefer'd of lesse Desert then thee . Doe not complaine though such a Plaint be true , Lords will not give their Favours as a Due . But rather stay and hope : it cannot bee But men at last must needs thy vertues see . So shall thy trust endure and greater grow , Whilst they that are above thee , fall below . 24 Pre. Desire not thy meane-fortunes for to set Next to the stately Mannors of the Great . He will suspect thy labours , and oppresse , Fearing thy greatnesse makes his wealth the lesse . Great ones doe love no Aequals : But must bee Aboue the Termes of all comparitie . Such a rich Neighbour is compared best To the great Pike that eats up all the rest . Or else like Pharaohs Cow , that in an houre Will seaven of his fattest freinds devoure . Or like the sea whose vastnesse swallows cleane All other streams , though no encrease be seene . Live by the Poore , they doe the Poore no harme ; So Bees thrive best when they together swarme . Rich men are Bears , and Poore men ought to feare 'em Like ravenous wolfes ; 't is dangerous living neare 'em . 25 Pre. Each man three Divels hath selfe borne afflictions ; Th' unruly Tongue , the Belly , and Affections . Charme these , such holy Conjurations can Gaine thee the friendship both of God and man . 26 Pre. So liue with man as if Gods curious eye , Did every where into thine Actions prie. For never yet was sinne so void of sence , So fully fac'd with brazen Impudence . As that it durst before mens eyes commit Their beastly lusts , least they should witnesse it . How dare they then offend , when God shall see , That must alone both Iudge and Iury bee . 27 Pre. Take thou no care how to deferre thy death , And give more respit to this Mortall breath . Would'st thou live long ? the only means are these 'Bove Galens diet , or Hippocrates . Strive to live well ; Tread in the upright wayes , And rather count thy Actions then thy dayes , Then thou hast liv'd enough amongst us here , For every day well spent I count a yeare . Live well , and then how soone so e're thou die , Thou art of Age to claime Aeternitie . But he that out lives Nestor , and appeares T' have past the date of gray Mathusalem's yeares . If he his life to sloth and sinne doth give , I say he only Was , he did not Live . 28 Pre. Trust not a man unknown he may deceive thee ; And doubt the man thou knowst for he may leave thee . And yet for to prevent exceptions too , 'T is best not seeme to doubt although you doe . 29 Pre. Heare much but little speake , a wise man feares , And will not use his tongue so much as eares . The Tongue if it the hedge of Teeth doe breake Will others shame , and its own Ruine speake . I never yet did ever read of any Vndone by hearing , but by speaking many . The reason 's this , the Eares if chast and holy , Doe let in wit , the Tongue doth let out folly . 30 Pre. To all alike be curteous , meeke , and kind , A winning carriage with indifferent mind , But not familiar , that must be exempt , Groomes saucy love , soone turnes into contempt . Be sure he be at least as good as thee , To whom thy freindship shall familiar bee . 31 Pre. Iudge not between two freinds , but rather see If thou canst bring them freindly to agree . So shalt thou both their Loves to thee encrease , And gaine a Blessing too for making Peace ; But if thou should'st decide the cause i' th' end , How e're thou judge thou sure shalt loose a freind . 32 Pre. Thy credit wary keepe , 't is quickly gone ; Being got by many Actions , lost by one , 33 Pre. Vnto thy Brother buy not , sell , nor lend , Such Actions have their own peculiar end ; But rather choose to give him , if thou see That thou hast pow'er , and hee necessitie . 34 Pre. Spare in thy youth , least Age should find thee poore When time is past , and thou canst spare no more . No coupl'd misery is so great in either , As Age and Want when both doe meet together . 35 Pre. Fly Dunkennesse , whose vile incontinence Takes both away the reason and the sence . Till with Circaean cups thy mind possest Leaves to be man , and wholy turnes a Beast . Thinke whilst thou swallowest the capacious Bowle , Thou let'st in Seas to wrack and drown the soule . That hell is open , to remembrance call , And thinke how subject drunkards are to Fall . Consider how it soone destroyes the grace Of humane shape , spoyling the beauteous face . Puffing the cheekes , blearing the curious eye , Studding the face with vitious Heraldry . What Pearles and Rubies doth the wine disclose , Making the purse poore to enrich the Nose ? How does it nurse disease , infect the heart , Drawing some sicknesse into every part ! The stomack overcloyd , wanting a vent Doth up againe resend her excrement . And then ( ô see what too much wine can doe ! ) The very soule being drunke spews secrets too . The Lungs corrupted breath contagious ayre , Belching up fumes that unconcocted are . The Braine o'rewarm'd ( loosing her sweet repose ) Doth purge her filthy ordure through the nose . The veins doe boyle glutted with vitious food , And quickly Fevers the distemper'd blood . The belly swells , the foot can hardly stand Lam'd with the Gout ; the Palsie shakes the Hand . And through the flesh sick waters sinking in , Doe bladder-like puffe up the dropsi'd skin . It weaks the Braine , it spoiles the memory ; Hasting on Age , and wilfull Poverty . It drownes thy better parts ; making thy name To foes a laughter , to thy freinds a shame . 'T is vertues poyson , and the bane of trust , The match of wrath , the fuell unto lust . Quite leave this vice , and turne not to 't againe , Vpon Presumption of a stronger braine . For he that holds more wine then other can , I rather count a Hogshead then a man . 36 Pre. Let not thy Impotent lust so pow'rfull ●…ee Over thy Reason , Soule , and Liberty , As to enforce thee to a marryed life , E're thou art able to maintaine a wife . Thou canst not feed upon her lips and face Shee cannot cloth thee with a poore imbrace . My selfe being yet alone , and but one still , With patience could endure the worst of ill . When fortune frownes , one to the wars may goe To fight against his foes , and fortunes too . But ( ô ) the greife were trebled for to see ▪ Thy wretched Bride halfe pin'd with Povertie . To see thy Infants make their dumb complaint And thou not able to releive their want . The poorest begger when he 's dead and gone , Is rich as he that sits upon the Throne . But he that having no estate is w●…d , Starves in his grave , being wretched when he 's dead . 37 Pre. If e're I take a wife I will have one Neither for beauty nor for portion ; But for her vertues ; and I 'le married bee Not for my lust , but for posteritie . And when I am wed , I 'le never iealous bee , But make her learne how to be chast by mee . And be her face what 't will , I 'le thinke her faire If shee within the house confine her care . If modest in her words and cloths shee bee , Not daub'd with pride and prodigalitie . If with her neighbours shee maintaines no strife , And beare her selfe to me a faithfull wife ; I 'de rather unto such a one be wed , Then claspe the choicest Helen in my bed . Yet though shee were an Angell my affection Should only love , not dote on her perfection .
An Elegie . LOve , give me leave to serve thee , and be wise To keepe thy torch in , but restore blind eyes . I will a flame into my bosome take , That Martyrs Court when they embrace the stake : Not dull , and smoakie fires , but heat divine , That burnes not to consume , but to refine . I have a Mistresse for perfections rare In every eye , but in my thoughts most faire . Like Tapers on the Altar shine her eyes ; Her breath is the perfume of Sacrifice . And where soe're my fancy would begin , Still her perfection lets religion in . I touch her like my Beads with devout care ; And come unto my Courtship as my Praier . Wee sit , and talke , and kisse away the houres , As chastly as the morning dews kisse flowers . Goe wanton Lover spare thy sighs and teares , Put on the Livery which thy dotage weares , And call it Love , where heresie gets in Zeal's but a coale to kindle greater sin . Wee weare no flesh , but one another greet , As blessed soules in separation meet . Wer't possible that my ambitious sin , Durst commit rapes upon a Cherubin , I might have lustfull thoughts to her , of all Earths heav'nly Quire the most Angelicall . Looking into my brest , her forme I find That like my Guardian-Angell keeps my mind From rude attempts ; and when affections stirre , I calme all passions with one thought of her . Thus they whose reasons love , and not their sence , The spirits love : thus one Intelligence Reflects upon his like , and by chast loves In the same spheare this and that Angell moves . Nor is this barren Love ; one noble thought Begets an other , and that still is brought To bed of more ; vertues and grace increase , And such a numerous issue ne're can cease . Where Children , though great blessings , only bee Pleasures repriv'd to some posteritie . Beasts love like men , if men in lust delight , And call that Love which is but appetite . When essence meets with essence , and soules joyne In mutuall knots , that s the true Nuptall twine : Such Lady is my Love , and such is true ; All other Love is to your Sexe , not You.
An Apologie for his false Prediction that his Aunt Lane would be deliver'd of a Sonne . 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 The best Prophets are but good Guessers . ARe then the Sibils dead ? what is become Of the lowd Oracles ? are the Augurs dumbe ? Live not the Magi that so oft reveald Natures intents ? is Gipsisme quite repeald ? Is Friar Bacon nothing but a name ? Or is all witchcraft braind with Doctor Lambe ? Does none the learned Bungies soule inherit ? Has Madam Davers dispossest her spirit ? Or will the Welchmen give me leave to say There is no faith in Merlin ? none , though they Dare sweare each letter creed , and pawne their blood He prophecied , an age before the flood , Of holy Dee ; which was , as some have said , Ten generations ere the Arke was made . All your predictions but Impostures are , And you but prophecy of things that were . And you Coelestiall Iuglers that pretend You are acquainted with the starres , and send Your spyes to search what 's done in every spheare , Keeping your state intelligencers there . Your art is all deceit ; for now I see Against the Rules of deepe Astrologie , Girles may be got when Mars his power doth vaunt , And boyes when Venus is Predominant . Nor doth the Moone though moist and cold shee bee Alwaies at full work to produce the shee : Had this been true I had foretold no lie , It was the Art was in the wrong , not I. Thence I so dully err'd in my beleife , As to mistake an Adam for an Eve : O grosse mistake , and in the civill pleas Error Personae , Mr Doctor sayes , And may admit divorce , but farewell now You hungry star-fed Tribe , hence forth I vow Talmud , Albumazar , and Ptolomie , With Erra ▪ Pater shall no Gospell bee . Nor will I ever after this I sweare Throw Dice upon the shepheards Calender . But why doe I t' excuse my Ignorance Lay blame upon the Art ? no , no , perchance I have lost all my skill : for well I know My Physiognomie two years agoe By the small Pox was mar'd , and it may bee A fingers losse hath spoild my Palmistry . But why should I a grosse mistake confesse●… No I am confident I did but guesse The very truth : it was a male child then , But Aunt you staid till 't was a wench agen . To see th' unconstancy of humane things , How little time great Alteration brings ! All thing are subject unto change we know , And if all things , then why not sexes too ▪ Tyresias we read a man was borne Yet after did into a woman turne . Levinus a Physitian of great fame , Reports that one at Paris did the same . And devout Papists say certaine it is , One of their Popes by Metamorphosis Indur'd the same ; else how could Ioan be heire To the succession of Saint Peters chaire . So I at Chairing crosse have beheld one A statue cut out of the Parian stone To figure great Aloides ; which when well The Artist saw it was not like to sell ; He takes his chissell , and away he pares Part of his sinewy neck , shaving the haires Of his rough beard and face , smoothing the brow , And making that looke amorous ; which but now Stood wrinkled with his anger ; from his head He poles the shaggy locks , that had o're spread His brawny shoulders with a fleece of haire , And workes insteed more gentle tresses there . And thus his skill exactly to expresse , Soone makes a Venus of an Hercules . And can it then impossible appeare , That such a change as this might happen here . For this cause therefore ( Gentle Aunt ) I pray Blame not my Prophecy , but your delay . But this will not excuse me ; that I may Directly cleare my selfe , there is no way Vnlesse the Iesuits will to me impart The secret depth of their mysterious art . Who from their halting Patriot learne to frame A Crutch for every word that fals out lame . That can the subtle difference discry Betwixt aequivocation and a lie . And a rare scape by sly distinction find To sweare the Tongue , and yet not sweare the mind . Now arm'd with Arguments I nothing dread , But my own cause thus confidently plead . I said there was a boy with in your wombe , Not actually , but one in time to come . Or by Antiphrasis my words might bee That ever understands the contrary ; Or when I said you should a man-child beare , You understood me of the sexe I feare , When I did meane the mind ; and thus define A woman but of spirit masculine . Or had I said it should a girle have been And it had prov'd a boy you should have seen Mee solve it thus ; I meant a boy by fate , But one that would have been effeminate . Or thus I had my just excuse begun , I said my Aunt would surely bring a sonne If not a daughter ; what we seers forsee Is certaine truth unlesse it falshood bee . Or I affirme because shee brought forth one That will bring boyes , shee hath brought forth a sonne . For doe not we call Father Adam thus , Because that he got those that have got us . What ere I said by simple Affirmation , I meant the right by mentall reservation .
An Epithalamium to Mt F. H. FRanke , when this Morne the harbinger of day Blush'd from her Easterne pillow where shee lay , Clasp'd in her Tythons arms red with those kisses Which being injoy'd by night , by day shee misses : I walk'd the feilds to see the teeming earth , Whose wombe now swells to give the flowers a birth . Where while my thoughts with every object tane , In severall contemplations rapt my braine , A suddaine lustre like the Sunne did rise , And with to great a light eclips'd mine eyes . At last I spyed a Beauty , such another , As I have sometimes heard call the●… her Brother . But by the chariot , and her teame of Doves , I guest her to be Venus , Queene of Loves . With her a pretty boy I there did see , But for his wings I 'had thought it had been thee ▪ At last when I beheld his quiver of darts , I knew t' was Cupid Emperour of our hearts . Thus I accosted them , Goddesse divine , Great Queene of Paphos and Cytherian shrine : Whose Altars no man sees that can depart Till in those flames he sacrifice his heart ; That conquerst Gods , and men ; and heaven divine , Yea and hell too : Bea●…e witnesse Pr●…serpine . And Cupid , thou that canst thy Trophies show Over all these , and o're thy Mother too ; Witnesse the night which when with Mars shee lay , Did all her sports to all the Gods betray : Tell me great Powers ; what makes such glorious beams Visit the lowly banks of Ninus streams ? Then Venus smil'd , and smiling bid me know Cupid and shee must both to Weston goe . I guest the cause ; for Hymen came behind In saffron robes , his Nuptiall knots to bind . Then thus I pray'd : Great Venus by the Love Of thy Adonu ; as thou hop'st to move Thy Mars to second kisses ; and obtaine Beauties reward , the Golden fruit againe : Bow thy faire eares to my chast prayers , and take Such Orisons as purest Love can make . Thou , and thy boy I know are posting thither To tye pure hearts in purest bonds together . Cupid thou know'st the maid : I' have seene thee lye With all thy arrowes lurking in her eye . Venus thou know'st her love , for I have seene The time thou would'st have faine her Rivall been . O blesse them both ! Let their affections meet With happy omens in the Geniall sheet . Both comely , beauteous both , both equall faire , Thou canst not glory in a fitter paire . I would not thus have praid if I had seen Fourscore and ten , wed to a young fifteen . Death in such Nuptials seems with love to play , And Ianuary seems to match with May : Autumne to wed the Spring ; Frost to desire To kisse the Sun ; Ice to embrace the fire . Both these are young , both sprightfull , both compleat , Of equall moisture , and of equall heat : And their desires are one ; were all Loves such Who would love solitary sheets so much ▪ Virginity ( whereof chast fooles doe boast ; A thing not known what , 't is till it be lost ) Let others praise ; for me I cannot tell What vertue , 't is to lead Baboons in hell . Woman is one with man when shee is brided ▪ The same in kind , only in sexe divided . Had all dy'd maids , we had been nothing then ; ▪ Adam had been the first , and last of men . How none O Venus then thy power had seen ▪ How then in vaine had Cupids arrows been ▪ My selfe whose coole thoughts feele no hot desires , That serve not Venus flames , but Vestas fires ; Had I not vow'd the cloysters , to confine My selfe to no more wives then only nine Parnassus brood ; those that heare Phoebus sing ▪ Bathing their naked limbs in Thespian spring . I 'de rather bee an Owle of Birds , then one That is the Phoenix if shee live alone ▪ Two is the first of numbers ; one naught can doe , One then is good , when one is made of two . Which mistery is thine great Venus , thine ; Thy union can two soules in one combine . Now by that power I charge thee blesse the sheets With happy issue where this couple meets . The maid 's a Harvy , one that may compare With fruit Hesperian ▪ or the Dragonscare . Her Love a Ward ; not he that awed the seas , Frighting the fearefull Hamadryades . That Ocean terrour , he that durst outbrave Dread Neptunes Trident , Amphitrites wave . This Ward a milder Pirat sure will prove , And only sailes the Hellesp●…nt of Love , As once Leander did ; his theft is best That nothing steales but what s within the brest ▪ Yet let that other Ward his thefts compare , And ransack all his treasures , let him beare The wealth of worlds , the bowels of the West And all the richest treasures of the East . The sands of Tagu●… , all Pactolus ore , With both the Indies ; yet this one gets more At once by Love ; then he by force could get , Or ravish from the Marchants ; let him set His Ores together ; let him vainely boast Of spices snatch'd from the Canary coast ; The Gummes of Aegypt , or the Tyrian fleece Died in his Native purple , with what Greece , Colchos , Arabia , or proud China yeilds , With all the Metals in Guiana feilds . When this has set all forth to boast his pride In various pompe ; this other brings his Bride , And I 'le be judg'd by all judicious eyes , If shee alone prove not the richer prize . O let not death have power their Love to sever ! Let them both love , and live and die together . O let their beds be chast , and banish thence As well all Iealousies , as all offence ! For some men I have known , whose wives have been ▪ As chast as Ice : such as were never seen In wanton dalliance , such as untill death Never smelt any , but their husbands breath . Yet the Good-man still dream'd of hornes , still fearing His forhead would grow harder ; still appearing To his own fancy , bull , or stagge , or more , Or Oxe at least , that was an Asse before . If shee would have new cloaths , he streight will feare Shee loves a Taylour ; if shee sad appeare Hee guesses soone it is 'cause he 's at home ; If jocund , sure shee has some freind to come . If shee be sick , he thinkes no greife shee felt , But wishes all Physitians had been guelt . But aske her how shee does , sets him a swearing , Feeling her pulse , is love tricks past the bearing . Poore wretched wife , shee cannot looke a wry But without doubt 't is flat adultery . And jealous wives there be , that are afraid To entertaine a handsome Chamber-maid . Farre , farre from them be all such thoughts I pray , Let their Loves prove eternall , and no day Adde date to their affections , grant ( ô Queene ) Their Loves like nuptiall bayes be alwaies greene . And also grant — But here shee bid me stay , For well shee knew what I had else to say . I ask'd no more , wish'd her hold on her race To joyne their hands , and send them night apace . Shee smil'd to heare what I in sport did say , So whip'd her doves and smiling rid away .
To Mr Feltham on his booke of Resolves . IN this unconstant Age when all mens minds In various change strive to outvie the winds . When no man sets his foot upon the square , But treads on globes and circles ; when we are The Apes of Fortune , and desire to bee Revolved on as fickle wheeles as shee . As if the planets , that our rulers are , Made the soules motion too irregular . When minds change oftner then the Greek could dream , That made the Metempseucos'd soule his theame ; Yea oft to beastly formes ▪ when truth to say Moons change but once a month , we twice a day . When none resolves but to be rich , and ill ; Or else resolves to be irresolute still . In such a tide of minds , that every houre Doe ebbe and flow ; by what inspring power , By what instinct of grace I cannot tell , Dost thou resolve so much , and yet so well ? While foolish men whose reason is their sence , Still wander in the worlds circumference : Thou holding passions raines with strictest hand Dost firme and fixed in the Center stand . Thence thou art setled , others while they tend To rove about the circle find no end . Thy booke I read , and read it with delight , Resolving so to live as thou dost wright . And yet I guesse thy life thy booke produces , And but expresses thy peculiar uses . Thy manners dictate , thence thy writing came , So Lesbians by their worke their rules doe frame , Not by the rules the worke ; thy life had been Patterne enough , had it of all been seen , Without a book ; books make the difference here , In them thou liv'st the same but every where . And this I guesse , though th' art unknown to me , By thy chast writing ; else it could not bee ( Dissemble ne'●…e so well ) but here and there Some tokens of that plague would soone appeare ; Oft lurking in the skin a secret gout In books would sometimes blister , and breake out . Contagious sinnes in which men take delight Must needs infect the paper when they write . But let the curious eyes of Lynceus look Through every nerve , and sinew of this book , Of which 't is full : let the most diligent mind Prie thorough it , each sentence he shall find Season'd with chast , not with an itching salt , More favouring of the Lampe , then of the malt . But now too many thinke noe wit divine , None worthy life , but whose luxurious line Can ravish Virgins thoughts . And is it fit To make a pandar , or a baud of wit ? But tell 'em of it , in contempt they look , And aske in scorne if you would geld their book . As if th' effeminate braine could nothing doe That should be chast , and yet be masculine too . Such books as these ( as they themselves indeed Truly confesse ) men doe not praise , but read . Such idle books , which if per chance they can Better the braine , yet they corrupt the man . Thou hast not one bad line so lustfull bred As to dye maid , or Matrons cheeke in red . Thy modest wit , and witty honest letter Makes both at once my wit , and me the better . Thy book a Garden is , and helpes us most To regaine that , which wee in Adam lost . Where on the Tree of knowledge wee may feed , But such as no forbidden fruits doth breed . Whose leaves like those whence Eve her coat did frame , Serve not to cover , but to cure our shame . Fraught with all flowers , not only such as grows To please the eye , or to delight the nose . But such as may redeeme lost healths againe , And store of Hellebore to purge the braine . Such as would cure the furfet man did take From Adams Apples : such as faine would make Mans second Paradise , in which should bee The fruits of life , but no forbidden Tree . It is a Garden ; ha' I thus did say : And maids , and Matrons blushing runne away . But maids reenter these chast pleasing bowers ; Chast Matrons here gather the purest flowers . Feare not : from this pure Garden doe not flye , In it doth no obsceane Priapus lye . This is an Eden where no serpents bee ; To tempt the womans imbecillitie . These lines rich sap the fruit to heaven doth raise ; Nor doth the Cinnamon barke deserve lesse praise , I meane the stile , being pure and strong and round , Not long but Pythy : being short breath'd , but sound . Such as the grave , acute , wise Seneca sings , That best of Tutour to the worst of kings . Not long and empty ; lofty but not proud ; Subtle but sweet , high but without a cloud . Well setled full of nerves , in breife 't is such That in a little hath comprized much , Like th' Iliads in a Nutshell : And I say Thus much for stile ; though truth should not bee gay . In strumpets glittering robes , yet ne'rethelesse Shee well deserves a Matrons comelinesse . Being too brave shee would our fancies glut ; But we should loath her being too much the slut . The reasonable soule from heaven obtain'd The best of bodies ; and that man hath gain'd A double praise ; whose noble vertues are Like to the face , in soule and body faire . Who then would have a noble sentence clad In russet-thread-bare words , is full as mad As if Apelles should so fondly dote , As to paint Venus in old Baucys coat . They erre that would bring stile so basely under ; The lofty language of the Law was thunder . The wisest ' pothecary knows 't is skill Neatly to candy o're the wholesome pill . Best Physique then , when gall with sugar meets , Tempring Asbinthian bitternesse with sweets . Such is thy sentence , such thy stile , being read Men see them both together happ'ly wed . And so resolve to keepe them wed , as we Resolve to give them to posteritie . 'Mongst thy resolves put my resolves in too ; Resolve who 's will , thus I resolve to doe : That should my errours choose anothers line Whereby to write , I meane to live by thine .
In Natalem Augustissimi Principis Caroli . PRimatibi pertit soboles ( dilecta Maria. ) Elusitque uterum moesta Diana tuum . Tunc Coelo , nunc & terris foecunda fuisti , Quae potes & reges & peperisse deos . Thy first birth Mary was unto a tombe , And sad Lucina cheated thy blest wombe . To heav'n thou then wert fruitfull , now to earth , That canst give Saints as well as Kings a birth .
Vpon his Picture . WHen age hath made me what I am not now ; And every wrinckle tels me where the plow Of time hath furrowed ; when an Ice shall flow Through every vein , and all my head wear snow : When death displayes his coldnesse in my cheeke , And I , my selfe in my owne Picture seeke . Not finding what I am , but what I was ▪ In doubt which to beleive , this , or my glasse : Yet though I alter , this remaines the same As it was drawne , retaines the primitive frame , And first complexion ; here will still be seen Blood on the cheeke , and Downe upon the chin . Here the smooth brow will stay , the lively eye , The ruddy Lip , and haire of youthfull dye . Behold what frailty we in man may see , Whose Shaddow is lesse given to change then hee .
An Ode to Mr Anthony Stafford to hasten him into the Country , Come spurre away , I have no patience for a longer stay ; But must goe downe , And leave the chargeable noise of this great Towne . I will the country see , Where old simplicity , Though hid in gray Doth looke more gay Then foppery in plush and scarlat clad . Farewell you City-wits that are Almost at Civill warre ; 'T is time that I grow wise , when all the world grows mad . More of my dayes I will not spend to gaine an Idiots praise ; Or to make sport For some slight Punie of the Innes of Court . Then worthy Stafford say How shall we spend the day . With what delights , Shorten the nights ? When from this tumult we are got secure ; Where mirth with all her freedome goes , Yet shall no finger loose ; Where every word is thought , and every thought is pure . There from the tree Wee 'l cherries plucke , and pick the strawbery . And every day Go see the wholesome Country Girles make hay . whose browne hath lovlier grace , Then any painted face , That I doe know Hide-Parke can show . Where I had rather gaine a kisse then meet Though some of them in greater state Might court my love with plate , The beauties of the Cheape , and wives of Lumbardstreet . But thinke upon . Some other pleasures ▪ these to me are none , Why doe I prate Of woemen , that are things against my fate I never meane to wed , That torture to my bed . My Muse is shee My Love shall bee . Let Clownes get wealth , and haires ; when I am gone , And the great Bugbeare grisly death Shall take this ●…le breath , If I a Poem leave , that Poem is my Sonne . Of this no more ; Wee 'l rather tast the bright Pomona's store . No fruit shall scape Our pallats , from the damsen , to the grape . Then full we 'l seek a shade , And heare what musique's made ; How Philomell Her tale doth tell : And how the other Birds doe fill the quire ; The Thrush and Blackbird lend their throats warbling melodious notes ; Wee will all sports enjoy , which others but desire : Ours is the skie , Whereat what fowle we please our Hauke shall flye ; Nor will we spare To hunt the crafty foxe , or timorous hare ▪ But let our hounds runne loose In any ground they 'l choose , The Bucke shall fall , The stagge and all : Our pleasures must from their owne warrants bee , For to my Muse , if not to mee , I 'me sure all game is free ; Heaven , Earth , are all but parts of her great Royalty . And when we meane To tast of Bacchus blessings now and then , And drinke by stealth A cup or two to noble Barkleys health . I 'le take my pipe and try The Phrygian melody ; Which he that heares Le ts through his eares A madnesse to distemper all the braine . Then I another pipe will take And Dorique musique make , To Civilize with graver notes our wits againe .
An answer to Mr Ben Iohnso●…'s Ode●…o perswade him not to leave the stage , BEn doe not leave the stage Cause 't is a loath some age ; For Pride , and Impudence will grow too bold , When they shall heare it told They frighted thee : stand high as is thy cause , Their hisse is thy applause . More just were thy disdaine , Had they appov'd thy vaine . So thou for them , and they for thee were borne , They to incense , and thou as much to scorne . Wilt thou engrosse thy store Of wheat , and powre no more , Because their Bacon-braines have such a tast As more delight in mast ? No ; set'em forth a board of dainties , full As thy best Muse can cull ; While they the while doe pine And thirst , midst all their wine . What greater plague can hell it selfe devise , Then to be willing thus to tantalize ? Thou canst not find them stuffe That will be bad enough To please their pallats ; let 'em thine refuse For some Pye-corner Muse ; Shee is to faire an hostesse , 't were a finne For them to like thine Inne : 'T was made to entertaine , Guests of a nobler straine , Yet if they will have any of thy store , Give 'em some scraps , and send them from thy dore . And let those things in plush , Till they be taught to blush Like what they will , and more contented bee With what Broome swept from thee . I know thy worth , and that thy lofty straines Write not to clothes but Braines : But thy great spleene doth rise Cause moles will have no eyes ; This only in my Ben , I faulty find He 's angry , they ' le not see him that are blind . Why should the Scene be Mute Cause thou canst touch a Lute And string thy Horace ? let each Muse of nine Claime thee , and say thou art mine . 'T wer fond to let all other flames expire To sitt by Pindar's fire : For by so strange neglect , I should my selfe suspect The Palsie were as well , thy braines disease ; If they could shake thy Muse which way they please . And though thou well canst sing , The glories of thy King ; And on the wings of verse his chariot beare To heaven , and fixe it there : Yet let thy Muse as well some raptures raise , To please him , as to praise . I would not have thee choose Only a treble Muse ; But have this envious , ignorant Age to know , Thou that canst sing so high , canst reach as low .
A Dialogue . Thirsis . Lalage . Th. MY Lalage when I behold So great a cold , And not a spark of heat in thy desire , I wonder what strange power of thine , Kindles in mine So bright a flame , and such a burning fire . Lalag . Can Thirsis in Philosophy A truant bee , And not have learn'd the power of the Sun ? How he to sublunary things A favour brings , Yet in himselfe is subject unto none ? Th. But why within thy eyes appeare Never a teare , That cause from mine perpetuall showres to fall ? La. Foole 't is the power of fire you know To melt the snow , Yet has no moisture in it selfe at all . Th. How can I be , deare Virgin show , Both fire and snow ? Doe you that are the cause , the reason tell ; More then miracle to me It seemes to be , That so much heate with so much cold should dwell . La. The reason I will render thee ; Why both should bee . Audacious Thirsis in thy love too bold , 'Cause thy sawcinesse durst aspire To such a fire , Thy love is hot ; but 't is thy hope is cold . Th. Let pitty move thy gentle brest To one opprest ; This way , or that , give ease to my desire ; And either let Loves fire be lost In hopes cold frost , Or hopes cold frost be warm'd in loves quick fire . La. O neither Boy ; neither of these Shall worke thy ease . I ' le pay thy rashnesse with immortall paine , As hope doth strive to freeze thy flame , Love melts the same : Th. As Love doth melt it , Hope doth freez't again Come gentle swaines lend me a groane To ease my moane . Chorus . Ah cruell Love how great a power is thine ? Vnder the Poles although we lye Thou mak'st us frye : And thou canst make us freeze beneath the line .
A Dialogue betwixt a Nymph and a Shepheard . Nymp. WHy sigh you swain ? this passion is not common ; I's t for your kids , or Lambkins ? Sh:

For a woman

Nymp. How ●…aire is shee that on so sage a brow Prints lowring looks ? Shep :

Iust such a toy as thou .

Nymp.

Is shee a maid ?

Sh:

what man can answer that ?

Nymp.

Or widdow ?

Sh:

No.

Nym :

what then ?

Sh: I know not Saint-like shee lookes , a Syren if shee sing . Her eyes are starres , her mind is every thing . Nymp. If shee be fickle , Shepheard leave to wooe Or fancy mee . Sh:

No tho●… art woman too ▪

Nymp.

But I am constant .

Sh:

Then thou art not faire .

Nymp.

Bright as the morning .

Sh:

Wavering as the Ayre .

Nymp.

What grows upon this cheeke ?

Sh:

A pure Carnation .

Nym.

Come tast a kisse

Sh.

O sweet , ô sweet Temptation !

Cho. Ah Love , and canst thou never loose the feild ? Where Cupid layes a seige , the towne must yeild . Hee warmes the chiller blood with glowing fire , And thaws the Icy frost of cold desire .
A Pastorall Ode . COy Coelia dost thou see Yon hollow mountaine tottering o're the plaine , O're which a fatall Tree With treacherous shade betrayes the sleepy swaine ? Beneath it is a Cell , As full of horrour as my brest of care , Ruine therein might dwell ; As a fit roome for guilt and black dispaire . Thence will I headlong throw This wretched weight , this heape of misery ; And in the dust below , Bury my Carcasse , and the thought of thee : Which when I finish'd have , O hate me dead , as thou hast done alive ; And come not neare my grave Least I take heat from thee , and so revive .
A Song . MVsick thou Queene of soules , get up and string Thy pow'rful Lute , and some sad requiem sing , Till Rocks requite thy Eccho with a groane : And the dull clifts repeate the duller tone : Then on a suddaine with a nimble hand Runnne gently o're the Chordes , and so command The Pine to dance , the Oake his Roots forgoe , The holme and aged Elme to foot it too ; Mirtles shall caper , lofty Cedars runne ; And call the Courtly Palme to make up one ; Then in the midst of all their Iolly traine , Strike a sad note ; and fixe 'em Trees againe .
The Song of Discord . LEt Linus and Amphions lute , With Orpheus●…itterne ●…itterne now be mute . The harshest voice the sweetest note ; The Raven has the choicest throate . A set of Frogs a quire for mee , The Mandrake shall the Chaunter bee . Where neither voice , nor tunes agree ; This is discords Harmonie . Thus had Orpheus learn'd to play , The following Trees had run away .
To one Overhearing his private discourse . I Wonder not my Laeda farre can see , Since for her eyes shee might an Eagle bee , And dare the Sun ; but that shee heares so well As that shee could my private whisperings tell , I stand amaz'd ; her eares are not so long , That they could reach my words ; hence then it sprung : Love overhearing fled to her bright eare , Glad he had got a tale to whisper there .
Epigram : 47 ex decimo Libro Martialis , THese are things that being possest Will make a life that 's truly blest : Estate bequeath'd , not got with toyle ; A good hot fire , a gratefull soyle . No strife , warme clothes , a quiet soule , A strength intire , a body whole . Prudent simplicity , equall freinds , A diet that no Art commends . A night not drunke , and yet secure ; A bed not sad , yet chast and pure . Long sleepes to make the nights but short , A will to be but what thou art ▪ Nought rather choose ; contented lye , And neither feare , nor wish to dye .
In Grammaticum Eunuchum . GRammaticam Diodore doces Eunuche puellos , Credo Solaecismum tu Diodore facis , Cum sis exectus quàm nec Sporus ille Neronis , Nec mersus liquidis Hermaphroditus aquis . Non unam liquit tibi saeva novacula testem ; Propria quae maribus cur Diodore legis ? Quae genus aut sexum variant , Heteroclyta tantum ▪ Posthàc si sapias tu Diodore legas .
To the Vertuous and noble Lady , the Lady Cotton . T Is not to force more teares from your sad eye , That we write thus ; that were a Piety Turn'd guilt and sinne ; we only beg to come And pay due tribute to his sacred tombe . The muses did divide his Love with you , And justly therefore may be mourners too . Instead of Cypresse , they have brought fresh Baies To crowne his Vrne , and every dirge is Praise . But since with him the learned tongues are gone , Necessity here makes us use our owne . Read , in his praise your owne , you cannot misse ; For he was but our Wonder , you were his .
An Elegie on the death of that Renowned and Noble Knight Sir Rowland Cotton of Bellaport in Shropshire . RIch as was Cottons worth , I wish each line ; And every verse I breath like him , a Mine . That by his vertues might created bee A new strange miracle , wealth in Poetrie . But that invention cannot sure be poore , That but relates a part of his large store . His youth began , as when the Sun doth rise Without a Cloud , and clearly trots the skies . And whereas other youths commended bee From conceiv'd Hopes ; his was maturitie . Where other springs boast blossoms fairely blowne , His was a harvest , and had fruits full growne . So that he seem'd a Nestor here to raigne In wisdome , Aeson-like , turn'd young againe . This , Royall Henry , whose majestique eye Saw thorough men , did from his court descrye , And thither call'd him , and then fix'd him there One of the prime starres in his glorious spheare . And ( Princely Master ) witnesse this with mee , He liv'd not there to serve himselfe but thee . No Silk-worme Courtier such as study there First how to get their cloaths , then how to weare . And though in favour high , he ne're was known To promote others suits to pay for 's own . He valued more his Master , and knew well , To use his Love was noble ; base to sell. Many there belive in the Court we know To serve for Pageants , and make up the show ; And are not serviceable there at all But now and then at some great Festivall . He serv'd for nobler use , the secret-cares Of common-wealths , and mystique State affaires ; And when great Henry did his Maxims heare , He wore him as a Iewell in his Eare. Yet short he came not , nay he all out-went In what some call a Courtiers complement . An Active body that in subtile wise Turnes pliable to any exercise . For when he leapt , the people dar'd to say He was borne all of fire , and wore no clay . Which was the cause too that he wrestled so , 'T is not fires nature to be kept below . His course he so perform'd with nimble pace , The time was not perceiv'd measur'd the race . As it were true that some late Artists say , The Earth mov'd too , and run the other way . All so soone finish'd , when the match was wonne The Gazers by ask'd why they not begunne . When he in masque us'd his harmonious feet , The Sphears could not in comelier order meet ; Nor move more gracefull , whether they advance Their measures forward , or retire their dance . There be have seene him in our Henry's Court The glory and the envy of that sport . And capring like a constellation rise , Having fixt upon him all the Ladies eyes . But these in him I would not vertues call , But that the world must know , that he had all . When Henry dy'd ( our universall woe ) Willing was Cotton to dye with him too . And as neare death he came as neare could bee ; Himselfe he buried in obscuritie , Entomb'd within his study wals , and there Only the Dead his conversation were . Yet was he not alone ; for every day Each Muse came thither with her sprig of Bay . The Graces round about him did appeare , The Genii of all Nations all met there . And while immur'd he sat thus close at home , To him the wealth of all the world did come . He had a language to salute the Sunne , Where he unharnest , and where 's teame begunne ▪ The tongues of all the East to him 't were known As Naturall , as they were borne his own . Which from his mouth so sweetly did intice , As with their language he had mix'd their spice . In Greeke so fluent , that with it compare Th' Athenian Olives , and they ●…aplesse are . Rome did submit her Fasces , and confes●…e Her Tully might talke more , and yet speake lesse . All Sciences were lodg'd in his large brest , And in that Pallace thought themselves so blest They never meant to part , but he should bee Sole Monarch , and dissolve their Heptarchie . But ô how vaine is mans fraile Harmonie ! We all are swannes , he that sings best must die . Death knowledge nothing makes , when we come there , We need no Language , nor Interpreter . Who would not laugh at him now , that should seeke In Cotton's Vrne for Hebrew or for Greeke ? But his more heav'nly graces with him yet Live constant , and about him circled sit A bright Retinue , and on each fals downe A robe of Glory , and on each a Crowne . Then Madam ( though you have a losse sustain'd Both infinite , and ne're to be regain'd Here in this world ) dry your sad eyes , once more You shall againe enter the Nuptiall dore A sprightly bride ; where you shall clothed bee In garments weav'd of Immortalitie . Nor greive because he left you not a Sonne , To Image Co●…ton forth now he is gone . For it had been a wrong to his great Name T' have liv'd in any thing but Heaven , and Fame .
Ausonit Epigram 38. SHee which would not I would choose : Shee which would I would refuse . Venus could my mind but tame ; But not satisfie the same . Inticements offer'd I despise , And deny'd I slightly prize . I would neither glut my mind , Nor yet too much torment find . Twice girt Diana doth not take mee , Nor Venus naked joyfull make mee . The first no pleasure hath to joy mee , And the last enough to cloy mee . But a crafty we●…ch I 'de have That can sell the act I crave . And joyne at once in me these two , I will , and yet I will not doe .
On the Death of a Nightingale . GOe solitary wood , and henceforth be Acquainted with no other Harmonie , Then the Pyes chattering , or the shreeking note Of bodeing Owles , and fatall Ravens throate . Thy sweetest Chanters dead , that warbled forth Layes , that might tempests calme , and still the North ; And call downe Angels from their glorious Spheare To heare her Songs , and learne new Anthems there . That soule is fled , and to Elisium gone ; Thou a poore desert left ; goe then and runne , Begge there to stand a grove , and if shee please To sing againe beneath thy shadowy Trees ; The soules of happy Lovers crown'd with blisses Shall flock about thee , and keepe time with kisses .
In filium Manlii insepultum . IN terrâ condivetuit Pater improbus , at Te In tumulo patitur nobiliore tegi . Pars canis est tumuli , tumuli pars altera Tigris , Altera pars Lupus est , & Leo for san erit . Marmoreos Regum tumulos contemne , sepulchra Sunt aliis tantum mortua , viva tibi .
Vpon the report of the King of Swedens Death . I 'Le not beleive 't ; if fate should be so crosse Nature would not be silent of her losse . Can he be dead , and no portents appeare ? No pale Ecclipse of th' sun to let us feare What we should suffer , and before his light Put out , the world inveloped in Night ? What thundring torrents the flush'd welkin tare ? What apparition kill'd him in the aire ? When Caesar dy'd there were convulsion fits ; And nature seem'd to run out of her wits . At that sad object Tybers bosome swell'd , And scarce from drowning all , by Iove withheld . And shall we give this mighty Conquerour That in a great and a more holy warre , Was pulling downe the Empire which he reard , A fall unmourn'd of Nature and unfear'd ; A death ( unlesse the league of heav'n withstood ) Lesse wept then with an universall flood ? If I had seene a Comet in the aire With glorious eye , and bright disheveld haire , And on a suddaine with his gilded traine Drop downe ; I should have said that Sweden's slaine , Shot like that starre ; or if the earth had shooke Like a weake floore , the falling roofe had broke ; I should have said the mighty King is gone ; Fel'd as the tallest tree in Libanon . Alasse if he were dead ; we need no post , Uery instinct would tell us what we lost . And a chill damp ( as at the generall doome ) Creepe through each brest and we should know for whome . His German conquests are not yet compleat , And when they are , ther 's more remaining yet . The world is full of sin , nor every Land O're growne with schisme hath felt his purging hand . The Pope is not confounded , and the Turke , Nor was he sure design'd for a lesse worke . But if our sinnes have stop'd him in the source , In mid'st Careere of his victorious course . And heaven would trust the dulnesse of our sence So farre , not to prepare us with portents . 'T is we that have the losse , and he hath caught His heav'nly garland e're his worke be wrought . But I , before I 'le undertake to greive So great a losse , will choose not to beleive .
On Sr Robert Cotton the Antiquary . POsterity hath many fates bemoan'd , But ages long since past for thee have groan'd . Times Trophies thou didst rescue from the grave Who in thy death a second buriall have . Cotton , deaths conquest now compleat I see , Who ne're had vanquish'd all things but in thee .
An Elegie . HEav'n knowes my Love to thee , fed on desires So hallowed , and unmixt with vulgar fires , As are the purest beams shot from the Sun At his full height ; and the devotion . Of dying Martyrs could not burne more cleare , Nor Innocence in her first robes appeare Whiter then our Affections ; they did show Like frost forc'd out of flames , and fire from snow ▪ So pure the Phoenix when shee did refine Her age to youth , borrowed no flames but mine . But now my daies o'recast , for I have now Drawne Anger like a tempest o're the brow Of my faire Mistresse ; those your glorious eyes Whence I was wont to see my day starre rise , Threat like revengefull Meteors , and I feele My torment , and my guilt double my hell . 'T was a mistake , and might have veniall been , Done to another , but it was made sin , And justly Mortall too by troubling Thee , Slight wrongs are treasons done to Majestie . O all yee blest Ghosts of deceased Loves , That now live Sainted in th' Elisian groves Mediate for mercy for me ; at her shrine Meet in full quire , and joyne your praiers with mine . Conjure her by the merits of your kisses , By your past sufferings and present blisses . Conjure her by your mutuall hopes , and feares ; By all your intermixed sighes , and teares , To plead my pardon ; goe to her and tell That you will walke the guardian sentinell , My soules safe Genii , that shee need not feare A mutinous thought , or one close rebell there . But what needs that , when shee alone sits there Sole Angell of that Orbe ; in her owne spheare Alone shee sits , and can secure it free From all irregular motions , only shee Can give the balsome that must cure this sore ; And the sweet Antidote to sin no more .
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 : Arist. FRom witty men and mad All Poetry conception had . No sires but these will Poetry admit Madnesse or wit . This definition Poetry doth fit , It is a witty madnesse , or mad wit . Only these two Poetique heat admits , A witty man , or one that 's out of 's wits .
Ad Amicum Litigantem , WOuld you commence a Poet S ● , and be A graduat in the thredbare mysterie ? The Oxes ford will no man thither bring , Where the horse hoofe raisd the Pegasian spring . Nor will the bridge through which low Cham doth runne , Direct you to the bankes of Helicon . If in that art you meane to take degrees , Bedlam's the best of universities . There study it , and when you would no more A Poet be , goe drinke some Hellebore . Which drugge when I had tasted , soone I left The bare Parnassus , and the barren cleft ; And can no more one of their Nation bee , Because recover'd of my lunacie . But you may then succeed me in my place Of Poet , no pretence to make your grace Denied you , for you goe to law , 't is said ; And then 't is ta'ne for granted you are mad . Felicem Anticyram ! nullos ibi credo Poetas Insanos tumido corde fovere modos . Hanc , fama est tantum sanos admittere cives . Exulat hinc vester , ( turba molesta ) furor ! Nullus in hâc Elegis , nullus jugulatur Iambis ; Incola non Satyram , non Epigramma timet . Nullus in hâc tener as recitator verberat aures ; Non hic judicium , non petit ille tuum . Non hic te Chloris , non hic laudata fatigat Coelia ; nulla tuam mordet hirudo cutem . Putida nec medias disrumpunt carmina mensas ; Mucida nec quisquam vina legendo facit . Nusquam aliquis , terrae securior errat , ob unum hoc Grates Helloboro quin agat ille suo .
In Corydonem & Corinnam . AH miser , & nullo felix in amore ! Corinnam Cum rogat illa , negas ; cum negat illa , rogas . Ambos urit Amor , quid sit f●…licius ▪ ambos ▪ Tempore non uno sed tamen ●…rit amor . Cum flagras Corydon , frigescit fibra Corinnae Cum tua frigescit fibra , Co●…inna calet . Cur aestas Corydonis ▪ hyems sit facta Corrinnae ? Quidvè Corinnae aestas sit Corydonis hyems ? Vnde ignis glaciem ▪ glacies unde efficit ignem ? Desine crudeles , s●…e Cupido , jocos ! Desine ! sed nec te Corydonis tollere flammas , Tollere nec castas Virginis oro nives . Vre duos , extingue duos , & pectus utrumque Aut calor , aut teneat pectus utrumque gelu .
Paraphras'd . AH wretch in thy Corinna's love unblest ! How strange a fancy doth torment thy brest ? When shee desires to sport thou saist her nay ; When shee denyes then thou desir'st to play . Love burnes you both . ( ô'tis a happy turne ! ) But 't is at severall times love both doth burne . When scorching heat hath Corydons heart possest , Then raignes a frost in cold Corinnas brest . And when a frost in Corydon doth raigne , Then is Corinnas brest on fire againe . Why then with Corydon is it summer prime , When with Corinna it is winter time ? Or why should then Corin●…as summer bee When it is winter Corydon with thee ? Can lce from fire , or fire from Ice proceed ? Ah jest not Love in so severe a deed ! I bid thee not Corydons flame to blow Cleane out ; nor cleane to melt Corinnas snow . Burne both ! freeze both ! let mutuall Ferv our hold His and her brest , or his and her's a cold
Ad ●…assum . Nostri , ( Basse ) solent pretio conducere stultos Quos in deliciis Aulicus omnis habet . At si quis cuperet sapientem vendere praeco , Rarus erit minimo qui velit asse virum . Vsque adeò nocet ingenium , tantoque putatur Quo minus est cerebri , charius esse caput . Vnde tot ignari veneres ? cur stultus amatur ? Hei mihi ! cur tanti non sapuisse fuit ? Haec ratio est , paribus gaudet Venus atque Cupido ; Et nunquam similes non sibi iungit Amor.
To one admiring her selfe in a Looking-Glasse . FAire Lady when you see the Grace Of Beauty in your Looking-Glasse ▪ A stately forhead , smooth and high , And full of Princely Majesty . A sparkling eye no gemme so faire , Whose lustre dimmes the Cyprian starre . A glorious cheeke divinely sweet , Wherein both Roses kindly meet . A cherry Lip that would entice Even Gods to kisse at any price . You thinke no beauty is so rare That with your shaddow might compare . That your reflection is alone , The thing that men most dote upon . Madam , alas your Glasse doth ly e , And you are much deceiv'd ; for I A beauty know of richer grace ( Sweet be not angry ) 't is your face . Hence then ö learne more milde to bee , And leave to lay your blame on mee ; If me your reall substance move ; When you so much your Shaddow Love . Wise nature would not let your eye Looke on her owne bright majestie ; Which had you once but gaz'd upon , You could , except your selfe , love none : What then you cannot love , let me , That face I can , you cannot see . Now you have what to loue , you 'l say What then is left for me I pray ? My face sweet hart if it please thee ; That which you can , I cannot see : So either love shall gaine his due , Your's sweet in mee , and mine in you .
An Eglogue occasion'd by two Doctors disputing upon predestination . Corydon . HO jolly Thirsis whither in such hast ? I's t for a wager that you run so fast ? Or past your houre below yo●… hawthorne tree Does longing Galatea looke for thee ? Thirsis . No Corydon , I heard young Daphnis say Alexis challeng'd Tityrus to day Who best shall sing of Shepheards Art , and praise ; But hearke I heare 'em , listen to their laies . Tityrus . Alexis read , what means this mistique thing ; An Ewe I had two lambs at once did bring : Th' one black as Iett ; the other white as snow : Say in just providence how it could be so ? Alexis . Will you Pan's goodnesse therefore partiall call , That might as well have given thee none at all ? Tityrus . Were they not both eand by the selfe same Ewe ? How could they merit then so different hewe ? Poore lamb alas ; and couldst thou , yet unborne , Sin to deserve the Guilt of such a scorne ? Thou hadst not yet fowl'd a religious spring , Nor fed on plots of hollowed grasse , to bring Staines to thy fleece ; nor browz'd upon a tree Sacred to Pan or Pales Deitie . The Gods are ignorant if they not foreknow ; And knowing , 't is unjust to use thee so . Alexis . Tytir with me contend , or Corydon ; But let the Gods , and their high wills alone . For in our flocks that freedome challenge wee , This kid is sacrific'd , and that goes free . Tityrus . Feed where you will my Lambs , what boots it us To watch , and water , fold , and drive you thus . This on the barren mountaines flesh can gleane , That fed in flowry pastures will be leane . Alexis . Plow , sowe , and compasse , nothing boots at all , Vnlesse the dew upon the Tilth's doe fall . So labour sylly shepheards what wee can All 's vaine , unlesse a blessing drop from Pan. Tityrus .

Ill thrive thy Theves if thou these lyes maintaine :

Alexis .

And may thy Goats miscarry sawcy swaine .

Thyrsis . Fie , Shepheards fie ! while you these strifes begin , Here creepes the woolfe ; and there the fox gets in . To your vaine piping on so deepe a reed The Lambkins listen , but forget to feed . It gentle swains befits of Love to sing , How Love left heaven ; and heav'ns immortall King , His Coaeternall Father . O admire , Love is a Sonne as ancient as his fire . His Mother was a Virgin : how could come A birth so great , and from so chast a wombe ! His cradle was a manger ; Shepheards see True faith delights in poore simplicitie . He pres'd no grapes , nor prun'd the fruitfull vine , But could of water make a brisker wine . Nor did he plow the earth , and to his Barne The harvest bring , nor thresh , and grind the Corne. Without all these Love could supply our need ; And with five L●…aves , five thousand Hungers feed . More wonders did he , for all which suppose How he was crown'd , with Lilly , or with Rose ? The winding Ivy , or the glorious Bay , Or mirtle , with the which Venus , they say , Girts her proud Temples ? Shepheards none of them But wore ( poore head ) a thorny Diadem . Feet to the Lame he gave ; with which they run To worke their Surgeons last destruction . The blind from him had eyes ; but us'd that light Like Basy lisques to kill him with their sight . Lastly he was betray'd ( ô sing of this ) How Love could be betray'd ! 't was with a kisse . And then his Innocent hands , and guiltlesse feet Were nayl'd unto the Crosse , striving to meet In his spread armes his spouse , so mild in showe He seem'd to court th' Imbraces of his foe . Through his pearc'd side , through which a speare was sent , A torrent of all flowing Balsame went . Run Amarillis run : one drop from thence Cures thy sad soule , and drives all anguish hence . Goe sunburnt Thestylis , goe , and repaire Thy beauty lost , and be againe made faire . Love-sick Amyntas get a Philtrum here , To make thee Lovely to thy truly deare . But coy Licoris take the Pearle from thine , And take the blood shot from Alexis eyne . Weare this an Amulet 'gainst all Syrens smiles , The stings of snakes , and Teares of Crocodiles . Now Love is lead : Oh no , he never dyes ; Three dayes he sleepes , and then againe doth rise ( Like faire Aurora from the Easterne Bay ) And with his beams drives all our clouds away : This pipe unto our flocks , this sonnet get . But hoe , I see the Sun ready to set , Good night to all ; for the great night is come ; Flocks to your folds and shepheards hye you home . ! To morrow morning , when we all have slept , Pan's Cornet's blowne , and the great Sheepshears kept .
An Eglogue to Mr Iohnson . Tityrus VNder his Beech why sit'st thou here so sad Son Damon , that wast erst a joviall lad ? These groves were wont to Eccho with the sound Of thy shrill reed , while every Nymph danc'd round . Rowse up thy soule , Parnassus mount stands high , And must be climb'd with painefull industrie . Damon . You Father on his forked top sit still , And see us panting up so steepe a hill ; But I have broke my reed , and deeply swore Never with wax , never to joynt it more . Tit. Fond boy ▪ 't was rashly done ; I meant to thee , Of all the sons I have , by legacie To have be queath'd my pipe , thee , thee of all , I meant it should her second Master call . Dam. And doe you thinke I durst presume to play Where Tityrus had worne his lip away ! Live long thy selfe to tune it ; 't is from thee , It has not from it self such Harmony . But if we ever such disaster have As to compose our Tytirus in his grave ; Yonder upon you aged Oak , that now Old trophies bears on every sacred bow , We 'le hang it up a relique , we will doe it , And learned swains shall pay devotion to it . Tyt. Canst thou farewell unto the Muses bid ? Then bees shall loath the Thyme , the new wean'd Kid Browze on the buds no more ; the teeming ewes Henceforth the tender sallows shall refuse . Dam. I by those Ladies now do nothing set ; Let 'em for me some other servant get : They shall no more be Mistresses of mine , No , though my pipe had hope to equall thine . Thine which the floods have stopt their course to hear ; To which the spotted Linx hath lent an eare . Which while the severall Ecchoes would repeat , The Musick has been sweet , the Art so great That Pan himself amaz'd at thy deep aires , Sent thee of his own bowl to drown thy cares . Of all the Gods Pan doth the Pipe respect . The rest unlearned pleasures more affect . Pan can distinguish what thy Raptures be From Bavius loose lascivious Minstralsie , Or Maevius windy Bagpipe , Maevius , he Whose wit is but a Tavern Tympanie . If ever I flock of my own doe feed , My fattest Lambs shall on his Altar bleed . Tyt. Two Altars I will build him , and each yeare Will sacrifice two wel-fed Bullocks there . Two that have horns ; that while they butting stand Strike from their feet a cloud of numerous sand . But what can make thee leave the Muses man , That such a Patron hast as mighty Pan ? Whence is thy fury ? Did the partiall eare Of the rude Vulgar , when they late did heare Aegon , and thee contend which best should play , Him Victour deem , and give thy kid away ? Does Amarillis cause this high despaire ? Or Galatea's coynesse breed thy care ? Dam. Neither of these , the Vulgar I contemn ; Thy pipe not alwaies Tytirus wins with them : And as for Love , in sooth I doe not know Whether he wears a bow , and shafts or no. Or did I , I a way could quickly find , To win the beauteous Galatea's mind , Or Amarillis : I to both could send Apples that with Hesperian fruit contend : And on occasion could have quickly guest Where two fayr ring-doves built their amorous nest . Tyt. If none of these , my Damon then aread What other cause can so much passion breed ! Dam. Father I will , in those indulgent ears I dare unload the burden of my fears . The Reapers that with whetted siccles stand , Gathering the falling ears ' i th' other hand ; Though they endure the scorching summers heat , Have yet some wages to allay their sweat : The Lopper that doth fell the sturdy Oak Labours , yet has good pay for every stroke . The Plowman is rewarded : only we That sing , are paid with our own melody . Rich churls have learn't to praise us , and admire , But have not learn't to think us worth the hire . So toyling Ants perchance delight to hear The summer musique of the Grassopper , But after rather let him starve with pain , Then spare him from their store one single grain . As when great Iunos beauteous Bird displaies Her starry tail , the boyes doe run and gaze At her proud train ; so look they now adaies On Poets ; and doe think if they but praise , Or pardon what we sing , enough they doe : I , and 't is well if they doe so much too . My rage is swel'd so high I cannot speak it , Had I Pan's pipe , or thine I now should break it ! Tit. Let moles delight in Earth ; Swine dung hils rake ; Crows prey on Cartion ; Frogs a pleasure take In slimy pools ; And Niggards wealth admire ; But we , whose souls are made of purer fire , Have other aimes : Who songs for gain hath made , Has of a liberall Science fram'd a Trade . Hark how the Nightingale in yonder tree , Hid in the boughes , warbles melodiously Her various musique forth , while the whole Quire Of other birds , flock round , and all admire ! But who rewards her ? will the ravenous Kite Part with her prey , to pay for her delight ? Or will the foolish , painted , pratling Iay Now turn'd a hearer , to requite her play Lend her a straw ? or any of the rest Fetch her a feather when she builds her nest ? Yet sings she ne're the lesse , till every den Doe catch at her last notes : And shall I then His fortunes Damon 'bove my own commend , Who can more cheese into the market send ? Clowns for posterity may cark and care , That cannot out-live death but in an Heire : By more then wealth we propagate our Names , That trust not to successions , but our Flames . Let hide-bound churls yoak the laborious Oxe , Milk hundred goats , and shear a thousand flocks ; Plant gainfull Orchards , and in silver shine ; Thou of all fruits should'st only prune the Vine : Whose fruit being tasted , might erect thy brain To reach some ravishing , high , and lofty strain ; The double birth of Bacchus to expresse , First in the grape , the second in the presse . And therefore tell me boy , what is 't can move Thy mind , once fixed on the Muses Love ? Dam. When I contented liv'd by Cham's fair streams , Without desire to see the prouder Thames , I had no flock to care for , but could sit Vnder a willow covert , and repeat Those deep and learned layes , on every part Grounded on judgment , subtil'ty , and Art , That the great Tutour to the greatest King , The shepheard of Stagira , us'd to sing : The shepheard of Stagira , that unfolds All natures closet , shows what e're it holds ; The matter , form , sense , motion , place , and measure Of every thing contain'd in her vast treasure . How Elements doe change ; What is the cause Of Generation ; what the Rule , and Laws The Orbs doe move by ; Censures every starre , Why this is fixt , and that irregular ; Knows all the Heavens , as if he had been there , And help't each Angell turn about her spheare . The thirsty pilgrim travelling by land , When the feirce Dog-starre doth the day command , Half choak't with dust , parch't with the soultry heat ; Tir'd with his journey , and o'recome with sweat , Finding a gentle spring , at her cool brink Doth not with more delight sit down and drink , Then I record his songs : we see a cloud , And fearing to be wet , doe run and shroud Vnder a bush ; when he would sit and tell The cause that made her mystie wombe to swell ; Why it sometimes in drops of rain doth flow , Sometimes dissolves her self in flakes of snow : Nor gaz'd he at a Comet , but would frame A reason why it wore a beard of flame . Ah Tytirus , I would withall my heart , Even with the best of my carv'd mazers part , To hear him as he us'd divinely shew , What 't is that paints the divers-colour'd bow : Whence Thunders are discharg'd , whence the winds stray , What foot through heaven hath worn the milky way ! And yet I let this true delight alone , Call'd thence to keep the flock of Corydon . Ah woe is me , anothers flock to keep ; The care is mine , the master shears the sheep ! A flock it was that would not keep together ; A flock that had no fleece , when it came hither Nor would it learn to listen to my layes , For 't was a flock made up of severall strayes : And now I would return to Cham , I hear A desolation frights the Muses there ! With rustique swains I mean to spend my time ; Teach me there father to preserve my rime . Tyt. Tomorrow morning I will counsel thee , Meet me at Faunus Beech ; for now you see How larger shadows from the mountains fall , And Corydon doth Damon , Damon , call . Damon , 't is time my flock were in the fold , More then high time ; did you not erst behold How Hesperus above yo●… clouds appear'd , Hesperus leading forth his beauteous heard ?
A Pastorall Courtship . BEhold these woods , and mark my Sweet How all the boughes together meet ! The Cedar his fair arms displayes , And mixes branches with the Bayes . The lofty Pine deignes to descend , And sturdy Oaks doe gently bend . One with another subt'ly weaves Into one loom their various leaves ; As all ambitious were to be Mine and my Phyllis canopie ! Let 's enter , and discourse our Loves ; These are , my Dear , no tell-tale groves ▪ There dwell no Pyes , nor Parrats there , To prate again the words they heare , Nor babling Eccho , that will tell The neighbouring hills one syllable . Being enter'd let 's together lye , Twin'd like the Zodiaks Gemini ! How soon the flowres doe sweeter smell ▪ And all with emulation swell , To be thy pillow ? These for thee Were meant a bed , and thou for me ; And I may with as just esteem 〈◊〉 thee , as thou maist lye on them . And why so coy ? What dost thou feare ? There lurks no speckled Serpent here . No Venemous snake makes this his rode , No Canker , nor the loath some ●…oad . And yo●… poo●… spider on the tree , Thy spinster will , no poisner be . There is no Frog to leap , and fright Thee from my arms , and break delight ; Nor snail that o're thy coat shall trace , And leave behind a slimy lace . This is the hallowed shrine of Love , No wasp nor hornet haunts this grove , Nor pismire to make pimples rise , Vpon thy smooth and ivory thighes . No danger in these shades doth lye , Nothing that wears a sting , but I : And in it doth no venome dwell , Although perchance it make thee swell . Being set , let 's sport a while , my Fair , I will tye Love knots in thy haire . See Zephyrus through the leaves doth stray , And has free liberty to play ; And braids thy locks : And shall I find Lesse favour then a saucy wind ▪ Now let me sit , and fix my eyes , On thee that art my Paradis ▪ Thou art my all ; the spring remains In the fair violets of thy veins ▪ And that it is a summers day , Ripe Cherries in thy lips display . And when for Autumn I would seek , 'T is in the Apples o●… thy cheek . But that which only moves my smart , Is to see winter in thy heart . Strange , when at once in one appear All the four seasons of the year ! I 'le clasp that neck where should be set A rich and Orient Carkanet : But swains are poor , admit of then More naturall chains , the arms of men . Come let me touch those brests , that swell Like two fair mountains , and may well ▪ Be stil'd the Alpes , but that I feare The snow has lesse of whitenesse there . But stay ( my Love ) a fault I spy , Why are these two fair fountains dry , Which if they run , no Muse would please To tast of any spring but these . And Ganymed employ'd should bee To fetch his love Nectar from thee . Thou shalt be Nurse fair Venus swears , To the Next Cupid that she bears . Were it not then discreetly done To ope one spring to let two runne ? Fy , fy , this Belly , Beauty's mint , Blushes to see no coyn stampt in 't . Employ it then , for though it be Our wealth , it is your royaltie ; And beauty will have currant grace That bears the Image of your face . How to the touch the Ivory thighes Veil gently , and again doe rise , As pliable to impression , As Virgins waxe , or Parian stone Dissolv'd to softnesse , plump and full , More white and soft then Cotsall wooll ; Or Cotten from the Indian Tree , Or pretty silkworms huswifrie . These on two marble pillars rais'd Make me in doubt which should be praisd ; They , or their Columnes must ; but when I veiw those feet which I have seen So nimbly trip it o're the Lawns That all the Satyrs and the fawns Have stood amaz'd , when they would passe Over the leyes , and not a grasse Would feel the weight , nor rush , nor bent Drooping betray which way you went . O then I felt my hot desires Burn more ; and flame with double fires . Come let those thighes , those legs , those feet With mine in thousand windings meet . And woven in more subtle twines Then woodbine , Ivy , or the vines . For when Love sees us circling thus He 'le like no Arbour more then us . Now let us kisse , would you be gone ▪ Manners at least allows me one . Blush you at this , pretty one stay , And I will take that kisse away . Thus with a second , and that too A third wipes of , so will we goe To numbers that the starrs out run , And all the Atoms in the Sun . For though we kisse till Phaebus ray Sink in the seas , and kissing stay Till his bright beams return again , There can of all but one remain : And if for one good manners call , In one good manners grant me all . Are kisses all ? they but forerun Another duty to be done . What would you of that minstrell say That tunes his pipes and will not play ? Say what are blossoms in their prime , That ripen not in harvest time ? Or what are buds that ne're disclose The long'd for sweetnesse of the rose ? So kisses to a Lover's guest Are invitations not the feast . See every thing that wee spy Is fruitfull , saving you and I : Veiw all the feilds , survey the bowers , The buds , the blossoms and the flowers ▪ And say if they so rich could be In barren base Virginitie . Earth's not so coy as you are now , But willingly admits the plow . For how had man or beast been fed , If she had kept her maiden head ? Coelia once coy as are the rest Hangs now a babe on either brest ; And Chloris since a man she took , Has lesse of greennesse in her look . Our ewes have ean'd , and every damme ▪ Gives suck unto her tender Lambe . As by these groves we walk'd a long , Some Birds were feeding of their young , Some on their egges did brooding sit , Sad that they had not hatch'd them yet . Those that were slower then the rest , Were busy building of their nest . You will not only pay the fine , You vow'd and ow'd to V●…lentine . As you were angling in the brook With silken line and silver hook , Through Christall streams you might descry How vast and numberlesse a fry The fish had spawn'd , that all along The banks were crowded with the throng . And shall fair Venus more command By water then she does by land ? The Phoenix chast yet when she dyes , Her self with her own ashes lyes . But let thy Love more wisely thrive To doe the act while th' art alive . 'T is time we left our childish Love That trades for toyes , and now approve Our abler skill ; they are not wise Look Babies only in the eyes . That smooth red smile shews what you meant , And modest silence gives consent . That which we now prepare , will bee Best done in silent secresie . Come doe not weep , what is 't you feare ? Least some should know what we did here . See not a flowre you prest is dead , But re-erects his bended head ; That who soe're shall passe this way Knows not by these where Phyllis lay . And in your forehead there is none Can read the act that we have done . Phyllis . Poore credulous and simple maid ! By what strange wiles art thou betraid ! A treasure thou hast lost to day For which thou canst no ransome pay . How black art thou transform'd with sin ! How strange a guilt gnaws me within ! Greif will convert this red to pale ; When every Wake , and whitsund-ale Shall talk my shame ; break , break sad heart There is no Medicine for my smart , No hearb nor balm can cure my sorrow , Vnlesse you meet again to morrow .
Vpon a very deformed Gentlewoman , but of a voice incomparably sweet . I chanc'd sweet Lesbia's voice to heare , O that the pleasure of the eare Contented had the appetite ; But I must satisfy the sight ; Where such a ●…ace I chanc'd to see From which good Lord deliver me . I's t not prophane if I should tell I thought her one of those that fell With Lucifers Apostate traine Yet did her Angels voice retaine ? A cherubin her notes descry'd , A Divell every where beside . Aske the dark woods , and they 'le confesse None did such Harmony expresse In all their bowres from May to Iune , Yet nere was face so out of tune . Her Virginall teeth false time did keep , Her wrinkled forhead went too deep . Lower then Gammath sunke her eyes , 'Bove Ela though her nose did rise . I 'le trust Musitians now that tell Best musique doth in discords dwell . Her ayres entic'd the gentle quire Of Birds to come , who all admire , And would with pleasure longer stay , But that her looks frights them away . Which for a good Priapus goes And well may serve to scarre the crowes . Her voice might tempt th' immortall race , But let her only shew her face , And soone shee might extinguish thus The lusting of an Incubus . So have I seene a lute ore worne , Old and rotten , patcht and torne , So ravish with a sound , and bring A close so sweet to every string , As would strike wonder in our eares , And work an envy in the Spheares . Say monster strange , what maist thou be ? Whence shall I fetch thy Pedigree ? What but a Panther could beget A beast so foule , a breath so sweet ? Or thou of Syrens issue art , If they be fish the upper part . Or else blind Homer was not mad Then when he sung Vlysses had So strange a guift from Aeolus , Who odour-breathing Zephyrus In severall bottles did inclose , For certain thou art one of those . Thy lookes , where other women place Their chiefest Pride , is thy disgrace . The tongue , a part which us'd to be Worst in thy Sexe , is best in thee . Were I but now to choose my deare Not by my eye , but by my eare , Here would I dote ; how shall I wooe Thy voice , and not thy body too ? Then all the brood I get of thee , Would Nightingalls , and Cygnets be : Cygnets betimes their throats to trye , Borne with more Musique then they dye . Say Lesbia , say , what God will blesse Our Loves with so much happinesse ? Some women are all tongue , but ô Why art not thou my Lesbia so ! Thy looks doe speak thee witch ; one spell To make thee but invisible , Or dye ; resigne thy selfe to death , And I will catch thy latest breath ; But that the nose will scarce I feare Finde it so sweet , as did the eare . Or if thou wouldst not have me coy , As was the selfe-inam our'd Boy , Turne only Voice , an Eccho prove , Here , here , by heav'n , I fixe my Love : If not , you Gods , to ease my mind , Or make her dumbe , or strike me blind ; For griefe , and anger in me rise , Whil'st shee hath tongue , or I have eyes .
The milk-maids Epithalamium . IOy to the Bridegroome and the Bride That lye by one anothers side ! O fie upon the Virgin Bedds , No losse is gain but Maiden heads . Love quickly send the time may be When I shall deal my Rosemary ! I long to simper at a feast , To dance , and kisse , and doe the rest . When I shall wed , and Bedded be O then the qualme comes over me , And tells the sweetnesse of a Theame That I ne're knew but in a dreame . You Ladies have the blessed nights , I pine in hope of such delights . And silly Dam'sell only can Milk the cowes teats and think on man : And sigh and wish to tast and prove The wholesome Sillibub of Love . Make hast , at once twin-Brothers beare ; And leave new matter for a starre . Woemen and ships are never shown So fair as when their sayles be blown . Then when the Midwife hears your moane , I 'le sigh for grief that I have none . And you , deare Knight , whose every kisse Reapes the full crop of Cupids blisse , Now you have found , confesse and tell That single sheets doe make up hell . And then so charitable be To get a man to pitty me .
An Eglogue on the noble Assemblies revivedon Cotswold Hills , by M. Robert Dover . Collen , Thenot. Coll. WHat Clod-pates , Thenot , are our Brittish swains , How lubber-like they loll upon the plains ? No life , no spirit in 'em ; every Clown Soone as he layes his Hook and Tarbox down , That ought to take his Reed , and chant his layes , Or nimbly run the winding of the Maze , Now gets a bush to roam himselfe , and sleepe ; T is hard to know the shepheard from the sheepe . And yet me thinks our English pastures be As flowery as the Lawnes of Arcadie ; Our Virgins blith as theirs , nor can proud Greece Boast purer ayre , nor sheer a finer fleece . The. Yet view their out-side , Collen , you would say They have as much brawn in their necks as they Fair Tempe braggs of ; lusty armes that swell With able sinews , and might hurle as well The weightie sledge ; their leggs , and thighs of bone , Great as Colossus , yet their strength is gone . They look like yonder man of wood , that stands To bound the limits of the Parish lands . Dost thou ken , Collen , what the cause might be Of such a dull and generall Lethargie ? Coll. Swain , with their sports their soules were ta'ne away , Till then they all were active , every day They exercis'd to weild their limbs , that now A renumb'd to every thing , but flail and plow . Early in May up got the jolly rout Call'd by the Lark , and spred the feilds about : One for to breath himselfe , would coursing be From this same Beech , to yonder Mulberie . A second leapt , his supple nerves to try , A third was practising his melody . This a new Iigg was footing , others were Busied at wrestling , or to throw the Barre : Ambitious which should beare the bell away , And kisse the Nut-brown Lady of the May. This stirr'd'em up ; a Iolly swain was he Whom Peg , and Susan after Victory Crown'd with a garland they had made , beset With Daisies , Pincks and many a Violet , Cowslip , and Gilliflower . Rewards though small Encourage vertue ; but if none at all Meet her , she languisheth , and dyes , as now Where worth 's deny'd the honour of a bough . And , Thenot , this the cause I read to be Of such a dull and generall Lethargie . The. Ill thrive the Lowt that did their mirth gain-say , Wolves haunt his flocks , that took those sports away ▪ Coll. Some melancholy swains about have gone To teach all zeal their owne complection : Choler they will admit sometimes I see , But Fleagme , and Sanguine no Religions be . These teach that Dauncing is a Iezabell ; And Barley-break , the ready way to Hell . The Morrice Idols , Whitsun'-ales can be But prophane Reliques of a Iubilee ! These in a Zeal , t' expresse how much they doe The Organs hate , have silenc'd Bag-pipes too ; And harmlesse May-poles , all are rail'd upon As if they were the towers of Babilon . Some think not fit there should be any sport I' th Country , 't is a dish proper to t'h Court . Mirth not becomes 'em , let the sawcy swain Eate Beef , and Bacon , and goe sweat again . Besides , what sport can in their pastimes be When all is but ridiculous fopperie ? The. Collen , I once the famous Spain did see , A nation glorious for her gravitie ; Yet there an hundred Knights on warlike steeds Did skirmish out a fight arm'd but with Reeds ; At which a thousand Ladies eyes did gaze , Yet was no better then our Prison-base . What is the Barriers but a Courtly way Of our more down right sport , the Cudgell-play ? Foot-ball with us may be with them Baloone , As they at Tilt , so we at Quintaine runne . And those old Pastimes relish best with me , That have least Art , and most simp●…itie . Collen , they say at Court there is an Art To dance a Ladies honour from her hart ; Such wiles poor shepheards know not , all their sence Is dull to any thing but Innocence . The Country Lasse , although her dance be good , Stirs not anothers Galliard in the Blood . And yet their Sports by some controul'd have been , Who think there is no mirth but what is sin . O might I but there harmlesse Gambols see Restor'd unto an ancient libertie , Where spotlesse dalliance traces o're the Plains , And harmlesse Nymphs jet it with harmlesse swains ! To see an age againe of Innocent Loves Twine close as Vines , yet kisse as chast as Doves , Me thinks I could the Thracian Lyre have strung , Or tun'd my whistle to the Mantuan song . Coll. Then tune thy whistle boy , and string thy Lyre , That age is come againe , thy brave desire Pan hath approv'd ; dauncing shall bee this yeare Holy as is the motion of a Spheare . The. Collen , with sweeter breath Fame never blew Her sacred Trump , if this good newes be true ! Coll.

Knowst thou not Cotswold hils ?

Th: Through all the land No Finer wooll runnes through the spinsters hand . But silly Collen , ill thou dost divine , Canst thou mistake a Bramble for a Pine ? Or think this Bush a Cedar ? or suppose Yo'n Hamlet , where to sleepe each shepheard goes In circuit , buildings , people , power and name Equalls the Bow ●…ring'd by the silver Thame ? As well thou maist their sports with ours compare , As the soft wooll of Lambs , with the Goates haire . Coll. Last evening Lad , I met a noble swaine , That spurr'd his springhtfull Palfrey ore the plain , His head with ribbands crown'd , and deckt as gay As any Lasse upon her Bridall day : I thought ( what easy faiths we sheapheards prove ! ) This , not the Bull , had been Europa's Love ! I ask't the cause , they told me this was he Whom this daies Triumph crownd with Victory . Many brave steeds there were , some you should finde So fleet as they had been sonnes of the winde : Others with hoofs so swift , beat o're the race As if some engine shot 'em to the place . So many and so well wing'd Steeds there were , As all the Brood of Pegasus had been there . Rider , and horse could not distinguish'd be , Both seem'd conjoyn'd a Centaure's Progeny . A numerous troop they were , yet all so light Earth never groan'd , nor felt'em in their flight . Such Royall Pastimes Cotswold mountains fill , When gentle swains visit her glorious hill : Where with such packs of Hounds they hunting goe , As Cyrus ne're did winde his Bugle to ! Whose noise is musicall ; and with full cries Beats o're the feilds , and Ecchoes through the skies . Orion hearing wish'd to leave his Spheare , And call his Dogge from heaven , to sport it there . Watt though he fled for life , yet joy'd withall So brave a dirge sung forth his funerall . Not Syrens sweetlier rill , Hares as they flie Look back , as glad to listen , loth to die . The. No doubt but from this brave Heroick fire In the more noble hearts , sparks of desire May warme the colder Boores , and emulous strife Give the old Mirth and Innocence a new life . When thoughts of fame their quickned souls shall fill At every glaunce that shewes'em Cotswold hill . Coll. There shepheard , there , the solemn games be playd , Such as great Theseus , or Alcides made : Such as Apollo wishes he had seene , And love desires had his invention beene ! The Nemean , and the Isthmian pastimes still Though dead in Greece , survive on Cotswold hill . The. Oh happy hill ! the gentle Graces now Shall trip o're Thine and leave Citherons brow : Parnassus clift shall sink below his spring , And every Muse shall on thy frontlet sing . The Goddesses againe in strife shall be , And from mount Ida make appeale to thee ; Olympus pay thee homage and in dread The aged Alpes shall bow his snowy head ; Flora with all her storethy Temples Crowne , Whose height shall reach the stars : Gods looking down Shall blesse the Incense that thy flowers ex hale And make thee both a Mountain and a Vale. How many Ladies on thy top shall meet , And presse thy tresses with their od'rous feet ? Whose eyes when wondring men see from a farre , They 'le think thee Heaven and each of them a starre , Coll. But gentle Collen say what God or man Fame we for this great worke , Daphnis or Pan ? The. Daphnis is dead , and Pan hath broke his Reed , Tell all your flocks 't is Ioviall Dover's deed . Behold the shepheards in their ribbands goe , And shortly all the Nymphs shall wear 'em too : Amaz'd to see such glory met together , Blesse Dovers pipe , whose Musick call'd'em hither . Sport you my Rams at sound of Dovers name ; Big-bellied ewes make hast to bring a Lambe For Dovers fold : Goe maids and Lillies get To make him up a glorious Coronet . Swains keep his holy-day and each man swear To Saint him in the Shepheards Calendar .
Ad Medicum . HEu , quae me Cholchis , magico quae Thessala cantu Sic cruciat miserum , & tantis coquit ilia flammis ? Aut quae cer a meas torret liquefact a medullas ? Mitius in Lybiam Phaebijubar antra leonis Ingressum furit , & Vulcania mitiùs Aetna Saeviit , ardentes cineres , multamque favillam In Calabros iaculata sinus : Heu , quis mihi vestes Induit Herculeas ? nam sentio virus , & omnes Ebullire meas Nessaeo sanguine venas ! Mille licet pas●…as fibrâ crescente volucres , Felicem Titium , multo quem frigore stringit Caucasus ! O liceat mihi tecum monte sub illo Aeternum tractare gelu , glacieque perenni Demulcere animum , nivibusque extinguere flammas ! Aut tecum sitiam , gelidis modò detur in undis Stare , tuisque meum lymphis solarier aestum , Tantale ; namque uror miserè miser , aestuat intùs Indomitus , totosque ignis depascitur artus . Dum gliscit calor , & saevo coquit igne cruorem , Intumet extemplò cutis , exurgitque tumescens Purpureâ maculâ , & multo distincta rubore ; Non alitèr quàm de caelo cum decidit imber , Plurima ( vidi etenim ) medio natat aequore bulla ; Aut quale in nostris ( saepe est videre ) culinis Cum primum verubus stridet caro : Belides in me , In me per petuam diffundite , Belides , urnam . Gens est , humanos , quae dicitur , impia , carnes Condere visceribus ; me , me , petat , & voret ore Iam tostum iecur : heu , fervent mea & omnia membra Apta Thyestaeis vivunt convivia mensis . At cum flamma satis totos bacchata per artus Len ius ardescens deferbuit , illicò turgens Descendit cutis , & paulò nunc mitius uror . Tandem omnis calor expirat , videorque repentè Taygeti montis , gelidive in vallibus Haemi Ramorum densâ requiescere tectus in umbra ; Et tandèm revocata suas redit , improba , vires , Flamma , premitque iterum , solitisque caloribus urit ▪ Tunc mihi scintillant oculi ; tremulumque videntes Imbelli spectant acie , binaomnia , bina Conspicor , & binis exurgit mensa lucernis ; Tum videor Stygiis undis , ipsoque Acharonte Immergi , videor flagranti claudier aere , Inque Perillaeo mugire incendia Tauro . Sum meus ipse Rogus : quae tantas pabula possunt , Quo valeam tantas nutrire bitumine flammas ? Si qua est herbarum virtus ( quae maxima certeest ) Extinguas plusquam Phaebeos , ( Phaebe ) calores : Extinguas , precor , & cocto mihi redde salutem , Vt semel annosum reparaverat Aesona Colchis : Vtque Aries iuvenem rediit grandaevus in Agnum .
The Song of Orpheus . HAile sacred Deserts , whom kind nature made Only to shelter with a loving shade , The now neglected Musique , glad to see Lyons afford her hospitality , And Tigers bid her welcome , with the rest Of savage beasts accept her for a guest , Since Men refuse her , and scarce daigne an eare To her high notes ; or if they please to heare , T is all ; amongst my Pupills , you may see The birds that learn'd their sweetest laies of me ; Those that chant Carols in this thanklesse age To pleasure men , rewarded with a Cage .
A Maske for Lydia . SWeet Lydia take this maske , and shroud Thy face within the silken cloud , And veile those powerfull Skies : For he whose gazing dares so high aspire , Makes burning glasses of his eyes , And sets his heart on fire . Vaile , Lydia , vaile , for unto mee There is no basiliske but thee . Thy very lookes doe kill : Yet in those lookes so fixt is my delight , Poore soule ( alas ) I languish still In absence of thy sight . Close up those eyes , or we shall finde Too great a lustre strike us blind : Or if a Ray so good Ought to be seene , let it but then appeare When Eagles doe produce their brood ' To try their young ones there . Or if thou would'st have me to know How great a brightnesse thou canst shew ; When they have lost the Sun ; Then doe thou rise , and give the world this theme , Sol from th' Hesperides is run , And back hath whipt his teame . Yet through the Goat when he shall stray , Thou through the Crab must take thy way ; For should you both shine bright In the same Tropick , we poore moles should get Not so much comfort by the light , As torment by the heat . Where 's Lydia now ? where shall I seeke Her charming lip , her tempting cheeke That my affections bow'd ? So dark a sable hath ecclipst my faire , That I can gaze upon the cloud , That durst not see the Star . But yet me thinkes my thoughts begin To say there lies a white within , Though black her pride controule : And what care I how black a face I see , So there be whitenesse in the soule , Still such an Ethiop be .
A parley with his empty Purse . PVrse , who 'l not know you have a Poets been When he shall look and find no gold herein ? What respect ( think you ) will there now be shown To this foule nest , when all the birds are flowne ? Vnnaturall vacuum , can your emptinesse Answer to some slight questions , such as these ? How shall my debts be paid ? or can my scores Be cleer'd with verses to my Creditors ? Hexameter's no sterling , and I feare What the brain coynes goes scarce for currant there . Can meeter cancell bonds ? is here a time Ever to hope to wipe out chalke with rime ? Or if I now were hurrying to the jaile Are the nine Muses held sufficient baile ? Would they to any composition come , If we should morgage our Elisium , Tempe , Parnassus , and the golden streames Of Tagus , and Pactolus , those rich dreames Of active fancy ? Can our Orpheus move Those rocks , and stones with his best straines of love ? Should I ( like Homer ) sing in lofty tones To them Achilles , and his Myrmidons ; Hector , and Aiax are but Sergeants names , They rellish bay-salt , 'bove the Epigrams Of the most season'd braine , nor will they be Content with Ode , or paid with Elegy . Muse , burne thy baies , and thy fond quill resigne , One crosse of theirs is worth whole books of mine . Of all the treasure which the Poets hold There 's none at all they weigh , except our gold ; And mine 's return'd to th' Indies , and hath swore Never to visit this cold climate more . Then crack your strings good Purse , for you need none ; Gape on , as they doe to be paid , gape on .
Vpon Love fondly refus'd for Conscience sake . NAture , Creations law , is judg'd by sense , Not by the Tyrant conscience . Then our commission gives us leave to doe What youth and pleasure prompts us to : For we must question else heavens great decree , And taxe it with a Treachery ; If things made sweet to tempt our appetite Should with a guilt staine the delight . Higher powers rule us , our selves can nothing doe ; Who made us love , made 't lawfull too . It was not love , but love transform'd to vice Ravish'd by envious Avarice , Made women first impropriate ; all were free , Inclosures mans Inventions be . I' th' golden age no action could be found For trespasse on my neighbours ground : 'T was just with any Fayre to mixe our blood ; The best is most diffusive good . She that confines her beams to one mans sight , Is a darke Lanth orne to a glorious Light . Say , does the Virgin-spring l●…sse chast appear Cause many Thirsts are quenched there ? Or have you not with the same odours met When more have smelt your violet ? The Phenix is not angry at her nest , Cause her perfumes make others blest : Though Incense to th' eternall Gods be meant , Yet mortalls Rivall in the sent . Man is the Lord of creatures , yet we see That all his vassals loves are free : The severe wedlocks fetters doe not bind The Pard's inflam'd , and amorous mind ; But that he may be like a Bridegroome led Even to the Royall Lyons bed . The birds may for a yeare their loves confine , But make new choyce each Valentine . If our affections then more servile be Then are our slaves , where's mans soveraignty ? Why then by pleasing more , should you lesse please , And spare the sweets being more sweet then these ? If the fiesh Trunke have sap enough to give That each insertive branch may live ; The Gardner grafts not only Apples there , But addes the Warden and the Peare , The Peach , and Apricock together grow , The Cherry , and the Damson too . Till he hath made by skilfull husbandry An intire Orchard of one Tree . So least our Paradise perfection want , We may as well inoculate as plant . What 's Conscience but a Beldams midnight theme ? Or nodding nurses idle dreame ? So feign'd , as are the Goblins , Elves , and Fairies To watch their Orchards , and their Dairies . For who can tell when first her reigne begun ? I' th' state of innocence was none : And since large Conscience ( as the proverb shewes ) In the same sense with bad one goes , The lesse the better then , whence this will fall , 'T is to be perfect to have none at all . Suppose it be a vertue rich , and pure , 'T is not for Spring , or Summer sure , Nor yet for Autumne ; Love must have his prime , His warmer heats , and harvest time . Till we have flourish'd , growne , and reap'd our wishes , What Conscience dares oppose our kisses ? But when times colder hand leads us neare home , Then let that winter-vertue come : Frost is till then prodigious ; we may doe What youth and pleasure prompts us to .
FINIS .

THE MVSES LOOKING-GLASSE .

By T. R.

OXFORD , Printed by Leonard Lichfield , for Francis Bowman . 1638.

THE MVSES LOOKING-GLASSE .
ACTVS I.
SCEN. 1.

Enter Bird a Featherman , and Mrs Flowrdew wife to a Haberdasher of small wares ; the one having brought feathers to the Play-house , the other Pins and Looking-glasses ; two of the sanctified fraternity of Black-friers .

Flo. SEe Brother how the wicked throng and crowd To works of Vanity ! not a nooke , or corner In all this house of sin , this cave of filthinesse , This den of spirituall theeves , but it is stuff'd , Stuffed , and stuff'd full as is a cushion With the lew'd Reprobate . Bird. Sister , were there not before Innes , Yes I will say Inns , for my zeale bids me Say filthy Innes , enough to harbour such As travell'd to destruction the broad way ; But they 〈◊〉 more and more , more shops of Satan . Flowrd . 〈◊〉 aboundeth , though pure zeale Teach , preach , huffe , puffe and snuffe at it , yet still Still it aboundeth . Had we seen a Church , A new built Church erected North and South , It had been something worth the wondring at . Bird.

Good workes are done .

Flowrd . I say no works are Good . Good works are meerely Popish and Apocryphall . Bird. But th' bad abound , surround , yea & confound us ▪ No matveile now if Play-howses increase , For they are all grown so obscene of late That one begets another . Flowerd . Flat fornication ! 〈◊〉 wonder any body takes delight To hear them prattle . Bird. Nay and I have heard That in a — Tragedy , I think they call it , They make no more of killing one another , Then you sell pinnes . Flow. Or you sell feathers brother . But are they not hang'd for it ? Bird. Law growes partiall , And findes it but Chance-medly : And their Comedies Will abuse you , or me , or any body ; We cannot put our monies to increase By lawfull Vsury , nor Breake in quiet , Nor put off our false wares , nor keep our wives Finer then others , but our Ghosts must walke Vpon their stages . Flow. Is not this flat conjureing , To make our Ghosts to walke ere we be dead ? Bird. That s nothing Mrs Flowrdew , they will play The Knave , the Foole , the Divell and all for mony . Flow. Impiety ! O that men indued with reason Should have no more grace in them ! Bird. Be there not other Vocations as thriving , and more honest ? Bailies , Promooters , Iaylors , and Apparitours , Beadles , and Martialls men , the needfull instruments Of the Republique ; but to make themselves Such monsters ? for they are monsters , th' are monsters , Base , sinfull , shamelesse , ugly , vile , deform'd Pernitious monsters ▪ Flow. I have heard our Vicar Call Play-houses the Colledge●… of Transgression , Wherein the seven deadly sinnes are studied . Bird. Why then the City will in time be made An Vniversity of Iniquity . We dwell by Black-Friers Colledge , where I wonder How that prophane nest of pernitious Birds Dare roost themselves there in the midst of us , So many good and well disposed persons . O impudence ! Flow. It was a zealous prayer I heard a Brother make , concerning Play-houses : Bird.

For Charity what is it ?

Flow. That the Globe Wherein ( quoth he ) reigns a whole world of vice , Had been consum'd ! The Phoenix burnt to Ashes . The Fortune whipt for a blind whore : Blackfriers He wonders how it scapd demolishing I' th' time of reformation : lastly he wish'd The Bull might crosse the Thames to the Bear-garden , And there be soundly baited ! Bird.

A good prayer .

Flow. Indeed it something pricks my Conscience , I come to sell 'em Pins and Looking-glasses . Bird. I have their custome too for all their feathers : 'T is fit that we which are sincere Professors Should gain by Infidels .
SCE. 2. Enter Roscius a Player .

Mr Roscius we have brought the things you spake for .

Rosc.

Why t is well .

Flow.

Pray sir what serve they for ?

Rosc.

We use them in our Play .

Bird.

Are you a Player ?

Rosc.

I am Sir , what of that ?

Bird. And is it lawfull ? Good sister le ts convert him , will you use So fond a calling ? Flow.

And so impious ?

Bird.

So irreligious ?

Flow.

So unwarrantable ?

Bird.

Only to gain by vice ?

Flow.

To live by sinne ?

Rosc. My spleene is up : And live not you by sinne ? Take away vanity and you both may break . What serves your lawfull trade of selling pins , But to joynt gew-gawes , and to knit together Gorgets , strips , neck-cloths , laces , ribbands , ruffs , And many other such like toyes as these , To make the Baby Pride a pretty Puppet ? And you sweet Featherman , whose ware though light Oreweighs your Conscience , what serves your Trade But to plume folly , to give Pride her wings , To deck vain-glory ? spoiling the Peacocks tayle T' adorne an Idiots Coxcombe ! O dull ignorance ! How ill 't is understood what we doe meane For good and honest ! They abuse our Scene , And say we live by vice : Indeed t is true As the Physitians by diseases doe , Only to cure them : They doe live we see Like Cookes by pamp'ring prodigality , Which are our fond accusers . On the stage We set an Vsurer to tell this age How ugly looks his soule : A prodigall Is taught by us how farre from liberall His folly bears him : Boldly I dare say There has been more by us in some one Play Laugh't into wit and vertue , then hath been By twenty tedious Lectures drawn from sinne And foppish humours ; Hence the cause doth rise Men are not wonn by th' eares so well as eyes . First see what we present . Flow. The sight is able To unsanctify our eyes , and make 'em Carnall . Rosc.

Will you condemne without examination ?

Bird. No Sister , let us call up all our zeale , And try the strength of this temptation : Satan shall see we dare defie his Engines . Flow.

I am content .

Rosc. Then take your places here , I will come to you And moralize the plot . Flow. That moralizing I doe approve , it may be for instruction .
SCE. 3. Enter a deformed fellow . Defor .

Roscius , I heare you have a new Play to day .

Rosci . We want not you to play Mephostopholis . A pretty naturall vizard ! Defor .

What have you there ?

Rosci .

A Looking-glasse , or two .

Defor . What things are they ? Pray let me see them . Heaven , what sights are here ! I a've seene a Divell . Looking-glasses call you them ? There is no basilisque but a Looking-glasse . Rosci .

T is your own face you saw .

Defor . My own ? thou liest : I 'de not be such a Monster for the world . Rosci .

Look in it now with me , what ●…eest thou now ?

Defor .

An Angell and a Divell .

Rosci . Look on that Thou callst an Angell , mark it well , and tell me , Is it not like my face ? Defor .

As t were the same .

Rosci . Why so is that like thine . Dost thou not see , 'T is not the glasse but thy deformitie That makes this ugly shape ; if they be fayre That view the Glasse such the reflections are . This serves the body : The soule sees her face In Comedy , and has no other Glasse . Defor . Nay then farewell , for I had rather see Hell then a Looking-glasse or Comedie . Exit Defor . Rosci . And yet me thinks if 't were not for this Glasse , Wherein the forme of man beholds his grace , We could not find another way to see How neere our shapes approach Divinitie . Ladies , let they who will your glasse deride , And say it is an Instrument of Pride : I will commend you for it ; there you see If yee be fayre , how truly fayre yeebee : Where finding beauteous faces , I doe know You 'l have the greater care to keepe them so . A heavenly vision in your beauty lyes , Which nature hath denied to your own eyes ; Were it not pitty you alone should bee Debarr'd of that others are blest to see ? Then take your glasses , and your selves enjoy The benefit of your selves ; it is no toy , Though ignorance at slight esteeme hath set her , That will preserve us good or make us better . A Country slut , ( for such she was , though here Ile City may be some as well as there : ) Kept her hands clean , ( for those being alwaies seene Had told her else how sluttish she had beene ) But ●…ad her face as nasty as the stall Of a fishmonger , or a Vsurers Hall Daub'd o●…e with dirt : One might have dar'd to say She was a true peice of Prometheus clay , Not yet inform'd : And then her unkemb'd haire Drest up with cobwebs , made her hag-like stare . One day within her paile ( for Country Lasses ( Faire Ladies ) have no other Looking-glasses : ) . She spied her uglinesse , and faine she would Have blusht if through so much dirt she could : Asham'd , within that water , that I say Which shew'd her filth , she wash'd her filth away . So Comedies , as Poets doe intend them , Serve first to shew our faults and then to mend them ▪ Vpon our Stage two glasses oft there be , The Comick Mirrour and the Tragedie : The Comick glasse is full of merry strife , The low reflection of a Country life . Grave Tragedy void of such homely sports Is the sad glasse of Cities and of Courts . I 'le shew you both , Thalia come and bring Thy Buskin'd sister , that of Bloud doth ●…ing ▪
SCE. 4. Comedy . Tragedy . Mime . Satyre . Comed .

Why doe you stop ? goe on .

Trag. I charge him stay . My robe of state , Buskins , and Crown of Gold Claime a priority . Come . Your Crown of Gold Is but the wreath of wealth ; 'T is mine of Lawrell Is vertues Diadem : This grew greene and flourish'd , When nature pittying poore mortalitie , Hid thine within the bowells of the earth : Men looking up to heaven found this that s mine , Digging to find out hell they li't on thine . Trage.

I know you' have tongue enough .

Come . Besides my Birth-right Gives me the first possession . Trag.

How , your Birth-right ?

Come . Yes sister , Birth-right : and a Crown besides , Put on before the Altar of Apollo By his deare Priest Phenomoe , she that first Full of her God rag'd in Heroique numbers . Trag. How came it then the magistrate decreed A publique charge to furnish out my Chorus , When you were faine t' appeare in rags and tatters , And at your own expences ? Come . My reward Came after , my deserts went before yours . Trag. Deserts ? yes ! what deserts , when like a gypsie You took a poor and begga●…ly Pilgrimage From village unto village ; when I then As a fit ceremony of Religion In my full state contended at the Tombe Of mighty Theseus . Come . I before that time Did chaunt out Hymnes in praise of great Apollo The shepheards Deitie , whom they reverence Vnder the name of Nomius , in remembrance How with them once he kept Admetus sheep . And 'cause you urge my poverty , what were you ? Till Sophocles laid guilt upon your Buskins You had no ornaments , no robes of state , No rich and glorious Scene ; your first Benefactours Who were they , but the reeling Preists of Bacchus ; For which a Goat gave you reward and name ? Trag. But sister who were yours , I pray , but such As chaunted forth religious , bawdy sonnets , In honour of the fine chast God Priapus ? Come .

Let age alone , merit must plead our Title .

Trag. And have you then the forehead to contend ? I stalk in Princes Courts , great Kings , and Emperours ▪ From their close cabinets , and Councell Tables Yeild me the fatall matter of my Scene . Come . Inferiour persons , and the lighter vanities , ( Of which this age I feare is grown too fruitfull , ) Yeild subjects various enough to move Plentifull laughter . Trag. Laughter ! a fit object For Poetry to ayme at . Come . Yes , Laughter is my object : t is a propertie In man essentiall to his reason . Trag. So ; But I move horrour ; and that frights the guilty From his deare sinnes : he that sees Oedipus Incestuous , shall behold him blind withall . Who views Orestes as a Parricide , Shall see him lash'd with Furies too ; Th' Ambitious Shall feare Prometheus Vultur ; Daring Gluttony Stand frighted at the sight of Tantalus : And every Family great in sinnes as Blood Shake at the memory of Pelops house . Who will relye on Fortunes giddy smile That hath seene Priam acted on the stage ! Com. You move with fear , I work as much with shame , A thing more powerfull in a generous brest . Who sees an eating Parasite abus'd ; A covetous Bawd laugh'd at ; an ignorant Gull Cheated ; a glorious Souldier knockt , and baflle'd ; A crafty servant whipt ; a niggard Churle Hoarding up dicing-monies for his sonne ; A spruce fantastique Courtier , a mad roarer , A jealous Tradesman , an over-weening Lady , Or corrupt Lawyer rightly personated , But ( if he have a blush ) , will blush and shame As well to act those follies as to owne them . Trag. The subject of my Scene is in the persons Greater , as in the vices ; Atheists , Tyrants , O'redaring Favorites , Traytours , Parasites , The Wolves and Cats of state , which in a language High as the men , and loud as are their crimes I thunder forth with terrour and amazement Vnto the gastly wondring Audience . Satyre . And as my Lady takes deserved place Of thy light Mistresse , so yeild thou to me , Fantastique Mime . Mime .

Fond Satyre why to thee ?

Sat. As the Attendant of the nobler Dame , And of my selfe more worthy . Mime .

How more worthy ?

Sat. As one whose whip of steele can with a lash Imprint the Characters of shame so deepe , Even in the brazen forehead of proud sinne , That not eternity shall weare it out . When I but frown'd in my Lucilius brow , Each conscious cheek grew red , and a cold trembling Freez'd the chill soule ; while every guilty brest Stood fearfull of dissection , as afraid To be anatomiz'd by that skilfull hand , And have each artery , nerve , and veine of sinne By it laid open to the publique skorne . I have untruss'd the proudest , greatest tyrants Have quak'd below my powerfull whip , halfe dead With expectation of the smarting jerke , Whose wound no salve can cure : each blow doth leave A lasting scar , that with a poison eates Into the marrow of their fames and lives ; Th' eternall ulcer to their memories ! What can your Apish-fine-gesticulations My manlike-Munkye Mime , vie downe to this ? Mime . When men through sinnes were grown unlike the Gods , Apes grew to be like men ; therefore I think My Apish imitation , Brother Beadle , Does as good service to reforme bad manners As your proud whip , with all his ferkes , and jerkes . The Spartans when they strove t' expresse the loathsomnesse Of Drunkennesse to their Children , brought a slave , Some captive , Helot , overcharg'd with wine Reeling in thus ; — His eyes shot out with staring , A fire in his nose , a burning rednesse Blazing in either cheeke , his haire upright , His tongue and senses faltring , and his stomack Oreburden'd ready to discharge her load In each mans face he met . This made 'em se●… And hate that sinne of swine , and not of men . Would I expresse a complementall youth , That thinks himselfe a spruce and expert Courtier , Bending his supple hams , kissing his hands , Honouring shoo-strings , s●…uing his writh'd face To severall postures of affection , Dancing an entertainment to his friend , Who would not think it a ridiculous motion ? Yet such there be that very much please themselves In such like Antique humours . To out own sin●…s We will be Moles , even to the grossest of 'em , But in anothers life we can spye forth The least of faults , with eyes as sharpe as eagles , Or the Epidaurean serpent : Now in me , Where selfe-love casts not her Aegyptian mists , They find this mis-becoming ●…oppishnesse , And afterwards apply it to themselves : This ( Satyre ) is the use of Mimique Elves . Trage. Sister let 's lay this poore contention by , And friendly live together ; if one wombe Could hold us both , why should we think this roome Too narrow to containe us ? On this stage Wee le plead a tryall ; and in one year contend Which shall doe best , that past , she then that shall By the most sacred and impartiall judgment Of our Apollo , best deserve the Bayes , Shall hold the entire possession of the place . Come . I were unworthy if I should Appeale from his tribunall ; Be it so : I doubt not but his censure runs with me : Never may any thing that 's sad and tragicall Dare to approach his Presence ; let him be So happy as to think no man is wretched , Or that there is a thing call'd miserie . Trag. Such is my praier , that he may only see . Not be the subject of a Tragedie ! Sister , a truce till then ; that vice may bleed Let us joyne whips together . Come . 'T is agreed . Mime , let it be your office to prepare The Masque which we intended : Mime .

'T is my care .

Exeunt . Flow. How did she say ? a Masse ? Brother fly hence , Fly hence , Idolatry will overtake us . Rosci . It was a Masque she spake of , a rude Dance Presented by the seven deadly sinnes . Bird. Still 't is a Masse , sister , away , I tell you It is a masse , a masse , a masse of vile Idolatry . Rosci . 'T is but a simple Dance , brought in to shew The native fowl●…esse and deformitie Of our deare finne , and what an ugly guest He entertaines , admits him to his B●…est ! Song and Dance . Say , in a Dance how shall we goe , That never could a measure knowe ! How shall we sing to please the Scene That never yet could keepe a meane ? Disorder is the Masque we bring , And Discords are the Tunes we sing . No sound in our harsh eares can find a place But highest Trebles , or the lowest Base . Flow. See Brother , if mens hearts and Consciences Had not been sear'd , and cauterized , how could they Affect these filthy harbingers of hell ! These Procters of Belzebub , Lucifers Hinch-boyes ! Rosci .

I pray yee stirre your selves within a while .

Exeunt . Roscius Solus . And here , unlesse your favourable mildnesse With hope of mercy doe encourage us , Our Author bids us end : he dares not venture Neither what 's past , nor that which is to come Vpon his Country , 't is so weake , and impotent It cannot stand a triall , nor dares hope The benefit of his Cleargy ; But if rigour Sit Iudge , must of necessity be condemn'd To Vulcan or the Spunge : All he can plead Is a desire of Pardon ; for he brings you No plot at all , but a meere Olla Podrida , A medly of ill-plac'd , and worse pen'd humours . His desire was in single Scenes to shew How Comedy presents each single vice Ridiculous , whose number as their Character He borrowes from the man to whom he owes All the poore skill he has , great Aristotle . Now if you can endure to heare the rest , Y' are welcome ; if you cannot , doe but tell Your meaning by some signe , and all farewell . If you will stay resolve to pardon first ; Our Author will deserve it by offending . Yet if he misse a Pardon , as in Iustice You cannot grant it , though your mercy may , Still he hath this left for a comfort to him , That he picks forth a subject of his Rime May loose perchance his credit , not his time . Exit .
Finis Actus 1.
ACTVS 2.
SCENA I. Roscius . Bird. Flowrdew . Rosc.

REceive your places . The first that we present are the Extreams of a vertue necessary in our Conversation , call'd Comitas or Courtesy , which , as all other vertues , hath her deviations from the Mean . The one Colax , that to seeme over Courteous falls into a servile flattery , the other ( as fooles fall into the contraries which they shunne ) is Dyscolus , who hating to bee a slavish Parasite growes into peevishnesse and impertinent distast .

Flow.

I thought you taught two vices for one vertue !

Rosci .

So does Philosophy , but the Actors enter .

Colax . Dyscolus . Colax . How farre they sinne against humanity That use you thus ! Believe me 't is a Symptom Of Barbarisme , and rudenesse so to vexe A gentle , modest nature as yours is . Dysco .

Why dost thou vexe methen ?

Colax . I ? Heaven defend ! My breeding has been better ; I vexe you ? You that I know so vertuous , just , and wise , So pious and religious , so admir'd So lov'd of all ? Dysc . Wilt thou not leave me then Eternall Torture ? could your cruelty find No back but mine that you thought broad enough To beare the load of all these Epithites ? Pious ? Religious ? he takes me for a foole . Vertuous ? and Iust ? Sir , did I ever cheat you , Cozen , or gull you ; that you call me just And vertuous ? I am grown the common scoff Of all the world ; the scoff of all the world . Colax .

The world is grown too vile then .

Dysc . So art thou . Heaven ! I am ●…un'd ridiculous ! Colax . You ridiculous ? But 't is as impious Age ; There was a time , ( And pitty 't is so good a time had wings To fly away , ) when reverence was payd To a gray head ; 't was held a sacriledge Not expiable to deny respect To one , Sir , of your years and Gravity . Dysc . My yeares and gravity ! Why how ol d am I ? I am not rotten yet , or grown so ranke As I should smell oth'grave : O Times and manners ! Well Colax , well ; goe on : you may abuse me , Poore dust , and ashes , wormes meat , yeares & gravity : He takes me for a Carkasse ! what see you So crazy in me ? I have halfe my Teeth : I see with spectacles , doe I not ? and can walke too With th' benefit of my staffe : marke if I cannot ! — But you sir at your pleasure with years and gravity Think me decrepit . Colax . How ? Decrepit sir ! I see young roses bud within your cheeks ; And a quick active blood run free and fresh Through your veines . Dysco . I am turn'd boy again ! A very stripling schooleboy ! have I not The Itch and kibes ? am I not scabb'd and mangy About the wrists and hams ? Colax .

Still Dyscolus ▪

Dysc . Dyscolus ! and why Dyscolus ? when were we Grown so familiar ? Dyscolus ! by my name Sure we are Pylades and Orestes ! are we not ? Speak good Pylades . Colax . Nay worthy Sir Pardon my error , 't was without intent Of an offence . I le finde some other name To call you by — Dysc . What doe you mean to call mee ? Foole ? Asse ? or Knave ? my name is not so bad As that I am asham'd on 't . Colax . Still you take all worse then it was meant , You are too Iealous . Dysco . Iealous ? I ha'not cause for 't : my wife s honest ; Dost see my hornes ? Doest ? if thou doest , Write Cuckold in my forehead ; doe , write Cuckold With Aqua-fortis , doe . Iealous ! I am jealous ▪ Free of the Company ! wife , I am jealous . Colax .

I mean suspitious .

Dysc . How , suspitious ? For what ? for Treason , Felony , or Murder ? Carry me to the Iustice : bind me over For a suspitious person ▪ hang me too For a suspicious person ▪ O , O , O Some courteous plague ceazeme , and free my soule From this immortall Torment ! every thing I meet with , is vexation , and this , this Is the vexation of vexations , The Hell of Hells , and Divell of all Divells . Flow.

For pitty sake fret not the good old Gentleman .

Dysc . O! have I not yet torments great enough , But you must adde to my affliction ? Eternall silence ceaze you ! Colax . Sir we strive To please you , but you still misconstrue us . Dysc . I must be pleas'd ! a very babe , an infant ! I must be pleas'd ! give me some pappe , or plummes : Buy me a rattle , or a hobby-horse , To still me , doe ! be pleas'd ? wouldst have me get A Parasite to be flatter'd ? Col. How ? a Parasite ? A cogging , flatt'ring , slavish Parasite ? Things I abhorre and hate . T is not the belly Shall make my brains a captive . Flatterers ! Soules below reason will not stoope so low As to give up their Liberty ; only flatterers Move by anothers wheele . They have no passions Free to themselves . All their affections , Qualities , humors , appetites , desires , Nay wishes , vowes , and prayers , discourse & thoughts Are but anothers Bondman . Let me tugg At the Turkes Gallies ; be eternally Damn'd to a Quarry : In this state my minde Is free : A flatterer has nor soule nor body What shall I say ? — No I applaud your temper , That in a generous bravenesse take distast At such whose servile nature strives to please you . T is royall in you Sir . Dysc .

Ha! What s that ?

Colax .

A feather stuck upon your cloak .

Dysc . A feather ! And what have you to doe with my feathers ? Why should you hinder me from telling th' world I doe not lye on flockbeds ? Colax . Pray be pleas'd . I brusht it off for meere respect I bare you . Dysc . Respect ! a fine respect , Sir , is it not , To make the world believe I nourish vermine ? O death , death , death , if that our graves hatch wormes Without tongues to torment us , let 'um have What teeth they will . I meet not here an object But adds to my affliction ! Sure I am not A man ; I could not then be so ridiculous : My eares are overgrown , I am an Asse ; It is my eares they gaze at . What strange Harpy Centaure , or Gorgon am I turn'd into ? What Circe wrought my Metamorphosis ? If I be beast , she might haue made me Lyon , Or something not ridiculous ! O Acteon , If I doe branch like thee , it is my fortune ! Why look they on me else ? There is with in A Glasse they say , that has strange qualities in it ; That shall resolve me . I will in to see Whether or no I man or Monster be . Exit .
SCEN. II , To them Deilus , Aphobus . Bird.

Who be these ? They look like Presumption and Despaire .

Rosc.

And such they are . That is Aphobius , one that out of an impious confidence fears nothing . The other Deilus , that from an Atheisticall distrust , shakes at the motion of a reed . These are the Extreams of Fortitude , that steeres an even course between over much dar●…ing , and overmuch fearing .

Flowr .

Why stayes this reprobate Colax ?

Rosc. Any vice Yeelds work for Flattery . Flow.

A good Doctrine marke it .

Deilus . Is it possible ? did you not fear it , say you ? To me the meere relation is anague . Good Aphobus no more such terrible stories ; I would not for a world lye alone to night : I shall have such strange dreames ! Apho. What can there be That I should fear ? The Gods ? If they be good , T is sin to fear them ; if not good , no Gods , And then let them fear me . Or are they Divells That must affright me ? Deilus . Diuells ! where good Aphobus ? I thought there was some conjureing abroad . T is such a terrible wind ! O here it is ; Now it is here again ! O still , still , still ! Apho.

What s the matter ?

Deilus . Still it followes me ! The thing in black , behind ; soone as the Sun But shines , it haunts mee ! Gentle spirit leave mee ! Cannot you lay him Aphobus ? what an ugly looks it has ! With eyes as big as sawcers , nostrills wider Then Barbers basons ! Apho. T is nothing Deilus But your weak Phancy , that from every object Drawes arguments of fear . This terrible black thing — Deil.

Wher is it Aphobus ?

Apho.

— Is but your shadow Deilus .

Deil.

And should not we fear shadowes ?

Apho.

No! why should we ?

Deil. Who knows but they come learing after us To steale away the substance ? Watch him Aphobus . Apho.

I nothing fear .

Colax . I doe commend your valour , That fixes your great soule fast as a Center , Not to be mov'd with dangers , let slight cock-boats Be shaken with a wave , while you stand firme Like an undaunted rock , whose constant hardnesse Rebeats the fury of the raging Sea , Dashing it into froth . Base fear doth argue A low degenerate soule . Deil.

Now I fear every thing .

Colax . T is your discretion . Every thing has danger , And therefore every thing is to be feared . I doe applaud this wisdome : T is a symptome Of wary providence . His too confident rashnesse Argues a stupid ignorance in the soule , A blind and senselesse judgement ; give me feare To man the fort , 't is such a circumspect And wary sentinell ▪ Flow. Now shame take thee for A Luke warme formalist . Colax . — But daring valour Vncapable of danger sleepes securely , And leaves an open entrance to his enemies . Deil.

What are they landed ?

Apho.

Who ?

Deil. The enemies . That Colax talkes of . Apho. If they be I care not . Though they be Gyants all , and arm'd with thunder . Deil.

Why doe you not fear Thunder ?

Apho. Thunder ? no! No more then squibs and crackers . Deil. Squibs and crackers ? I hope there be none here ! slid , squibs and crackers ! The meere Epitomies of the Gun-powder Treason , Faux in a lesser volume . Apho. Let fooles gaze At bearded starres , it is all one to mee As if they had been shav'd — thus , thus would I Out-beard a Meteour , for I might as well Name it a prodigy when my candle blazes . Deil. Is there a Comet say you ? Nay I saw it , It reach'd from Pauls to Charing , and portends Some certain imminent danger to th' inhabitants Twixt those two places : I 'le goe get a lodging Out of its Influence . Colax . Will that serve ? — I feare It threatens generall ruine to the Kingdome . Deil.

I 'le to some other Country .

Colax .

There 's danger too to crosse the Seas .

Deil. Is there no way , good Colax , To crosse the Sea by Land ? O the scituation ! The horrible scituation of an Island Colax . You sir are farre above such frivolons thoughts . You fear not death . Apho.

Not I.

Col.

Not sudden death .

Apho.

No more then sudden sleepes : Sir I dare dye .

Deil. I dare not ; Death to me is terrible : I will not dye . Apho.

How can you Sir prevent it ?

Deil.

Why I will kill my selfe .

Col. A valiant course ; And the right way to prevent death indeed . Your spirit is true Roman ! — But yours greater That fear not death , nor yet the manner of it , Should Heaven fall — Apho.

Why then we should have Larkes .

Deil.

I shall never eate Larkes again while I breath .

Col. Or should the earth yawn like a sepulcher , And with an open throat swallow you quick ? Apho.

T' would save me the expences of a grave .

Deil.

I 'had rather trouble my Exequutors by ' the half .

Apho.

Canons to me are pot-guns .

Deil. Potguns to me Are Canons ; the report will strike me dead . Apho.

A rapier 's but a bodkin .

Deil. And a bodkin . Is a most dangerous weapon ; since I read Of Iulius Cesars death , I durst not venture Into a Tailors shop for fear of Bodkins . Apho. O that the valiant Gyants would again Rebell against the Gods , and besiege Heaven , So I might be their leader . Col. Had Enceladus Been halfe so valiant , Iove had been his prisoner . Apho. Why should we think there be such things as dangers ? Scylla , Charybdis , Python are but fables . Medeas Bull , and Dragon very tales . Se●… monsters , serpents , all Poeticall figments . Nay Hell it selfe , and Acheron meere inventions . Or were they true , as they are false , should I be So timorous as to fear these Bugbeare Harpyes , Medusa's , Centaurs , Gorgons ? Deill . O good Aphobus . Leave conjuring , or take me into th' circle . What shall I doe good Colax ? Col. Sir walke in , There is they say a Looking-glasse , a strange one Of admirable vertues , that will render you Free from inchantments . Dei . How a Looking-glasse ? Dost think I can endure it ? why there lies A man within 't in ambush to entrap me . I did but lift my hand up , and he presently Catcht at it . Colax . 'T was the shadow Sir of your selfe . Trust me a meere reflection . Deil.

I will trust thee .

Exit . Apho.

What Glasse is that ?

Colax . A trick to fright the Idiot Out of his wits , a glasse so full of dread Rendring unto the eye such horrid spectacles As would amaze even you . Sir I doe think Your optick nerves would shrink in the beholding ▪ This if your eye endure , I will confesse you The Prince of Eagles . Apho. Look to it eyes , if yee refuse this sight , My nayles shall damne you to eternall night . Exit . Col. Seing no hope of gain , I pack them hence , 'T is gold gives flattery all her Eloquence .
SCEN. 3. Acolastus Anaisthetus . Rosci .

Temperance is the mediocrity of inioying pleasures , when they are present , and a moderate desire of them being absent ; And these are the extreames of that vertue . Acolastus a voluptuous Epicure , that out of an immoderate , and untam'd desire seekes after all pleasures promiscuously , without respect of honest or lawfull . The other Anaisthetus a meere Anchorite that delights in nothing , not in those legitimate recreations allow'd of by God and nature .

Acolast . O now for an eternity of eating ! Foole was he that wish'd but a cranes short neck . Give me one , nature , long as is a Cable , Or sounding line , and all the way a palate To ●…ast my meate the longer . I would have My senses feast together , Nature envied us In giving single pleasures ; let me have My eares , eyes , palate , nose , and touch , at once Injoy their happinesse ; lay me in a bed Made of a summers cloud ; to my embraces Give me a Venus hardly yet fifteene , Fresh , plump , and active ; she that Mars enjoy'd Is grown too stale : And then at the same instant My Touch is pleas'd , I would delight my sight With Pictures of Diana , and her Nymphs , Naked , and bathing drawn by some Apelles ; By them some of our fairest Virgins stand ; That I may see whether 't is Art or nature Which heightens most my blood and appetite . Nor cease I here . Give me the seven Orbes To charme my eares with their coelestiall lutes , To which the Angells that doe move those spheares Shall sing some amorous ditty ; nor yet here Fixe I my bounds ; The sunne himselfe shall fire The Phoenix nest to make me a perfume , While I doe eate the Bird , and eternally Quaffe of eternall Nectar . These single , are But torments , but together ; O together ! Each is a Paradice . Having got such objects To please the senses , give me senses too Fit to receive those objects : Give me therefore An Eagles eye , a blood-hounds curious smell , A staggs quick hearing , let my feeling be As subtle as the spiders , and my tast Sharpe as a Squirrils . Then I 'le reade the Alcoran , And what delights that promises in future I 'le practise in the present . Bird ,

Heathenish Glutton !

Flow.

Base belly-God , licentious Libertine !

Anai. And I doe think there is no pleasure at all But in contemning pleasures ; Happy Niobe And blessed Daphne , and all such as are Turn'd stocks and stones : would I were Lawrell too , Or marble , I , or any thing insensible . It is a toyle for me to eate or drink , Only for natures satisfaction ; Would I could live without it . To my eare Musique is but a mandrake . To my smell Nard sents of rue , and wormwood ; And I tast Nectar with as much loathing , and distast As Gall , or aloes , or my Doctors potion . My eye can meete no object but I hate it . Acola .

Come Brother Stoique be not so melancholy .

Anai.

Be not so foolish Brother Epicure .

Aco. Come wee 'le goe see a Comedy , that will raise Thy heavy spirits up . Anai. A Comedy ? Sure I delight much in those toyes ; I can With as much patience heare the Marriners Chide in a storme . Aco.

Then le ts goe drinke a while .

Anai. 'T is too much Labour ; Happy Tantalus That never drinks . Aco. A little Venery Shall recreate thy soule . Ana. Yes like an itch , For 't is no better , I could wish an heire ; But that I cannot take the paines to get one . Aco. Why , marry , if your conscience be so tender , As not to doe it otherwise ; Then 't is lawfull . Ana. True Matrimony's nothing else indeed But fornication licens'd , lawfull Adultery . O Heavens ! how all my senses are wide sluces To let in discontent and miseries ! How happy are the moles that have no eyes ; How blest the Adders that they have no eares . They neither see , nor heare ought that afflicts them . But happier they that have no sence all ; That neither see , nor heare , tast , smell , nor feele Any thing to torment them : soules were given To torture Bodyes , man has reason too To adde unto the heape of his distractions . I can see nothing without sense , and motion , But I doe wish my selfe transform'd into it . Colax . Sir I commend this temperance ; your arm'd soule Is able to contemne these petty baits , These slight temptations , which we title pleasures ; That are indeed but names ; He'ven it selfe knows No such like thing ; the starres nor eate , nor drink , Nor lye with one another ; and you imitate Those glorious bodies , by which noble abstinence You gaine the names of moderate , chast , and sober ; While this effeminate gets the infamous termes Of Glutton , Drunkard , and Adulterer ; Pleasures , that are not mans , as man is man , But as his nature sympathies with beasts . You shall be the third Cato . This grave look And rigid eyebrow will become a censor . But I will fit you with an object Sir , My noble Anaisthetus that will please you . It is a Looking-glasse , wherein at once You may see all the dismall groves and caves , The horrid vaults , darke cells , and barren deserts , With what in Hell it selfe can dismall be . Anais .

That is indeed a Prospect fit for mee .

Exit . Acol. He cannot see a stock or stone , but presently He wishes to be turn'd to one of those . I have another humor , I cannot see A fat voluptuous sow with full delight Wallow in dirt , but I doe wish my selfe Transform'd into that blessed Epicure . Or when I view the hot salacious sparrow Renew his pleasures with fresh appetite , I wish my selfe that litle bird of Love . Colax . It shewes you a man of a soft moving clay , Not made of flint ; Nature has been bountifull To provide pleasures , and shall wee be niggards At plenteous boards ? He 's a discourteous guest That will observe a diet at a feast . When Nature thought the earth alone too litle To find us meat , and therefore stor'd the aire With winged creatures , not contented yet Shee made the water fruitfull to delight us . Nay I believe the other Element too Doth nurse some curious dainty for mans food , If we would use the skill to catch the Salamander : Did she doe this to have us eat with temperance ? Or when she gave so many different Odors Of spices , unguents , and all sorts of flowers , Shee cry'd not — stop your noses : would she give us So sweet a quire of wing'd Musitians To have us deafe ? or when shee plac'd us here , Here in a Paradice , where such pleasing prospects So many ravishing colours entice the eye , Was it to have us winke ? when she bestow'd So powrefull faces , such commanding beauties On many glorious Nymphs , was it to say Be chast and continent ? Not to enjoy All pleasures , and at full , were to make nature Guilty of that she nere was guilty of , A vanity in her works . Acol. A learned Lecture ! T is fit such grave and solid arguments Have their reward — here — halfe of my estate T' invent a pleasure never tasted yet , That I may be the first shall make it stale . Col. Within Sir is a Glasse , that by reflexion Doth shew the image of all sorts of pleasures That ever yet were acted , more variety Then Aretines pictures . Aco. I le see the Iewell ; For though to doe , most moves my appetite , I love to see , as well as act delight . Exit . Bird. These are the things indeed the stage doth teach , Dear heart , what a foule sinke of sinnes runne here ! Flow.

Insooth it is the common shore of lewdnesse .

SCEN. 4. Asotus . Aneleutherus . Rosc.

These are Aneleutherus an illiberall Niggardly Vsurer , that will sell heaven to purchase Earth . That , his sonne Asotus , a profuse Prodigall , that will sell earth to buy Hell . The extreames of Liberality which prescribes a mediocrity in the Geting and Spending of Riches .

Aneleu .

Come boy , goe with me to the Scriveners , goe ,

Asot.

I was in hope you would have said a Bawdy house .

Anel .

Thence to th' exchange .

Asot.

No , to the Taverne Father .

Anel .

Be a good husband boy , follow my counsell .

Asot. Your counsell ? No dad , take you mine And be a good fellow — shall we goe and roare ? Slid Father I shall never live to spend That you have got already — Poxe of atturneys , Merchants , and Scriveners , I would heare you talke Of Drawers , Punks , and Panders . Anel . Prodigall child ! Thou dost not know the sweets of getting wealth . Asot. Nor you the pleasure that I take in spending it . To feed on Caveare , and eate Anchoves ! Anel . Asotus , my dear sonne , talke not to me Of your Anchoves , or your Caveare . No , feed on Widdowes , have each meale an Orphan Serv'd to your Table , or a glibbery heire With all his lands melted into a morgage . The Gods themselves feed not on such fine dainties , Such fatting , thriving diet . Asot. Trust me Sir , I am asham'd la — now to call you Father , Ne're trust me now I'am , come be a Gentleman : One of your haveings , and thus carke and care ? Come , I will send for a whole coach or two Of Bankside Ladies , and wee will be Ioviall ! Shall the World say you pine and pinch for nothing ? Well doe your pleasure , keep me short of monies , When you are dead , as dye I hope you must , I le make a shift to spend one halfe at least Ere you are coffin'd , and the other halfe Ere you are fully laid into your grave . Were not you better help away with some of it ? But you will starve your selfe , that when y' are rotten , One — Have at all of mine may set it flying . And I will have your bones cut into dice , And make you guilty of the spending of it : Or I will get a very handsome bowle Made of your scull , to drink 't away in healths . Aneil . That 's not the way to thrive ! No sit and brood On thy estate , as yet it is not hatch'd Into maturity . Asot. Marry I will brood upon it , And hatch it into chickens , capons , hens , Larks , thrushes , quailes , wood-cocks , snites & phesants The best that can be got for love or mony . There is no life to drinking ! Anel . O yes , yes , Exaction , usury , and oppression . Twenty i' th' hundred is a very Nectar . And wilt thou , wastfull lad , spend in a supper What I with sweat and labour , care and industrie Have been an age a scraping up together ? No , no Asotus , trust gray-head experience ; As I have been an oxe , a painfull oxe , A diligent , toyling , and laborious oxe To plow up Gold for thee ; so I would have thee — Asot.

Be a fine silly Asse to keepe it .

Anel .

Be a good watchfull Dragon to preserve it .

Colax . Sir , I overheard your wise instructions , And wonder at the gravitie of your counsell . This wild unbridled boy is not yet grown Acquainted with the world ; He has not felt The weight of need , that want is vertue 's clog ; Of what necessity , respect and value Wealth is ; how base and how contemptible Poverty makes us . Liberality In some circumstances may be allow'd ; As when it has no end but honesty , With a respect of person , quantity , Quality , time and place ; but this profuse , Vaine , injudicious spending speaks him Ideot . And yet the best of liberalitie Is to be liberall to our selves ; and thus Your wisdome is most liberall , and knowes How fond a thing it is for discreet men To purchase with the losse of their estate The name of one poore vertue liberalitie . And that too only from the mouth of beggers . One of your judgment would not I am sure Buy all the vertues at so deare a rate . Nor are you sir , I dare presume , so fond As for to weigh your gains by the strict scale Of equity , and Iustice ; Names invented To keepe us beggers ! I would counsell now Your son to tread no steps but yours , for they Will certainly direct him the broad way That leads unto the place wher Plenty dwels , And shee shall give him honour . Anel . Your tongue is pow'rfull : Pray read this Lecture to my sonne ; I goe To find my scriv'ner , who is gone I heare To a strange Glasse wherein all things appeare . Exit . Asot. To see if it can shew him his lost eares . Now to your Lecture . Col. And to such a one As you will be a willing Pupill to . Think you I meant all that I told your father ? No , 't was to blind the eyes of the old Huncks . I love a man like you that can make much Of his blest Genius : Miracle of Charity ! That open hand becomes thee ; Let thy Father Scrape like the Dunghill cock the dirt , and mire , To find a pretious Gemme for thee , the Chicken Of the white Hen to weare . It is a wonder How such a generous branch as you , could spring From that old root of damned avarice ! For every widdowes house the father swallowes , The sonne should spue a Taverne . How are we Richer then others , not in having much , But in be stowing ; And that shines glorious in you . The chuff●… crownes Imprison'd in his rusty chest me thinkes I heare groan out , and long till they be thine , In hope to see the light againe . Thou canst not Stand in a flood of Nectar up to th' chin , And yet not dare to sup it ; nor canst suffer The Golden Apples dangle at thy lips , But thou wilt tast the fruit . 'T is generous this ! Asot. Gramercy , thou shalt be Doctor o' th' chaire . Here — 't is too little , but 't is all my store , I 'le in to pumpe my dad , and fetch thee more . Exit . Colax .

How like you now my art ? is 't not a subtle one ?

Flow. Now out upon thee thou lewd reprobate ! Thou man of sinne , and shame , that sowest cushions Vnto the elbowes of iniquity . Colax . I doe commend this zeale ; you cannot be Too fervent in a cause so full of goodnesse . There is a generall frost hath ceas'd devotion , And without such like ardent flames as these There is no hope to thaw it . The word , Puritane , That I doe glorify , and esteeme rev'erend , As the most sanctified , pure , and holiest Sect Of all professours , is by the profane Vs'd for a name of infamy , a by-word , a slander , That I sooth vice I doe but flatter them , As we give children plums to learn their praiers , T' entice them to the truth , and by faire meanes Work out their reformation . Bird. 'T is well done , I hope hee 'le become a brother , and make A Separatist ! Flow. You shall have the devotions Of all the Elders . But this foppinesse Is weary some , I could at our Saint Antlings , Sleeping and all , sit twenty times as long , Rosc. Goe in with me to recreate your spirits , As Musique theirs , with some refreshing song , Whose patience our rude Scene hath held too long . Exeunt
Finis Actus 2.
ACTVS 3.
SCENA 1. Roscius . Bird. Flowrdew . Bird.

I will no more of this abomination .

Rosc. The end crownes every action , stay till that . Iust Iudges will not be prejudicate . Flow.

Pray sir continue still the moralizing .

Rosc.

The next we present are the extreams of Magnificence , who teaches a Decorum in great expences , as Liberality in the lesser : One is Banausus , out of a meere ●…tent ation vaine-gloriously expensive ; the other Microprepes one in glorious works extreamly base and penurious .

Banausus . Microprepes . Banau. Being borne not for our selves but for our freinds , Our country and our glory , it is fit We doe expresse the majesty of our soules In deeds of bounty and magnificence . Micro . The world is full of vanity , and fond fooles Promise themselves a name from building Churches Or any thing that tends to the Republique , 'T is the Re-private that I study for . Banau. First therefore for the fame of my Republique . I 'le imitate a brave Aegyptian King , And plant such store of onions , and of garlike , As shall maintaine so many thousand workmen , To th' building of a Pyamid at Saint Albons , Vpon whose top I 'le set a hand of brasse , With a scrowle in 't to shew the way to London , For th' benefit of Travellers . Colax . Excellent ! 'T is charity to direct the wandring Pilgrim . Micro . I am Church-warden , and we are this yeare To build our steeple up , now to save charges I 'le get a high crown'd hat with five Low-bels To make a peale shall serve as well as Bow . Colax . 'T is wisely cast , And like a carefull steward of the Church , Of which the Steeple is no part , at least No necessary one . Bird. Verily 't is true . They are but wicked Synagogues where those instruments Of Superstition and Idolatry Ring warning to sinne , and chime all in to the Divell . Banau. And 'cause there is such swarmes of heresies rising : I 'le have an Artist frame two wondrous weathercocks Of Gold , to set on Pauls , and Grantam Steeple , To shew to all the Kingdome what fashion next The Wind of Humour hither means to blow . Micro .

A wicker chaire will fit them for a Pulpit .

Colax .

It is the Doctrine sir that you respect .

Flow. In sooth I' have heard as wholsome instructions From a zealous wicker chaire , as e're I did From the carv'd Idoll of wainscoat . Banau. Next , I intend to found an Hospitall For the decay'd Professours of the Suburbs , With a Colledge of Physitians too at Chelsy Only to study the cure of the French Poxe ; That so the sinners may acknowledge me Their only benefactor , and repent . Colax .

You have a care sir of your countrie 's health .

Micro .

Then I will sell the lead to thatch the Chancell .

Ban. I have a rare device to set Dutch windmills Vpon New-market Heath , and Salisbury Plaine , To draine the Fens . Colax .

The Fens sir are not there .

Ban.

But who knowes but they may be ?

Col. Very right : You aime at the prevention of a danger . Micro .

A Porters frock shall serve me for a surplice ▪

Flow

Indeed a Frock is not so Ceremonious .

Ban. But the great work in which I mean to glory , Is in the raising a Cathedrall Church : It shall be at Hoggs-Norton , with a paire Of stately Organs ; more then pity 't were The Piggs should loose their skill for want of practice ! Bird.

Organs ! fye on them for Babylonian Bagpipes !

Micro . Then for the painting , I bethink my selfe That I have seene in mother Red-caps Hall In painted cloath the story of the Prodigall . Cola. And that will be for very good use and morall . Sir you are wise ; what serve Aegyptian Pyramids , Ephesian Temples , Babylonian Towers , Carian Coloss'es , Traians water-workes , Domitians Amphitheaters , the vaine cost Of ignorance and prodigalitie ! Rome flourish'd when her Capitoll was that ch'd , And all her Gods dwelt but in Cottages . Since Parian marble and Corynthian brasse Enter'd her gawdy Temples , soone shee fell To superstition , and from thence to ruine . You see that in our Churches , glorious Statues Rich Copes , and other ornaments of state Draw wandring eyes from their devotion , Vnto a wanton gazing , and that other Rich edifices , and such gorgeous toyes Doe more proclaime our countries wealth then safety , And serve but like so many guilded baits T' entice a forreigne Foe to our invasion . Goe in , there is a Glasse will shew you sir , What sweet simplicity our Grands●…res us'd , How in the Age of Gold no Church was guilded . Exit . Micro . Banau. O I have thought on 't , I will straight way build A free schoole here in London , a free schoole Forth'education of young Gentlemen To study how to drinke , and take Tobacco , To sweare , to roare , to dice , to drab , to quarrell : T will be the great Gymnasium of the Realme , The Phrontisterium of great Britayny . And for their better study I will furnish them With a large Library of Drapers bookes . Colax . 'T will put down Bodlies , and the Vatican . Royall Banausus ! how many Sphears fly you Above the earthy dull Microprepes ! I hope to live to see you build a stewes Shall out-brave Venice ; To repaire old Tiburne And make it Cedar . This magnificent course Doth purchase you an immortality . In them you build your Honour to remaine Th-example and the wonder of Posterity . While other hidebound Churles doe grutch themselves ▪ The Charges of a Tombe . Ban. But I le have one In which I le lye embalm'd with Mirthe and Cassia , And richer unguents then th' Aegyptian Kings . And all that this my pretious Tombe may furnish The Land with Mummye . Colax Yonder is a Glasse Will shew you plots and models of all monuments Form'd the old way , you may invent a new 'T will make for your more glory . Ban.

Colax true .

Exit . Rosc.

These are the extreams of Magnanimity . Caunus a fellow so highly conceited of his own parts , that he thinks no honour above him ; the other Micropsychus a base and low spirited fellow ▪ that undervaluing his own qualities , dares not aspire to those dignities , that otherwise his merits are capable of .

SCEN. 2. Caunus . Micropsychus . Cau.

I wonder that I hear no newes from Court !

Colax .

All haile unto the honourable Caunus .

Cau. The honourable Caunus ? T is decreed I am a Privy Counsellor ; our new honors Cannot so alter us as that we can Forget our Friends , walk with us our familiar . Micro . It puzles me to think what worth I have , That they should put so great an honour on me . Colax . Sir I doe know , and see , and so doe all That have not wilfull blindnesse , what rare skill Of wisdome , Policy , Iudgement and the rest Of the state-vertues sit within this brest , As if it were their Parliament ; but as yet I am not Sir the happy Messenger That tels you you are cal'd unto the Helme ; Or that the Rudder of great Britany Is put into your Hands , that you may steere Our floating Delos till she be arriv'd At the blest Port of Happinesse , and surnam'd The Fortunate Ifle from you that are the fortunate . Cau. 'T is strange that I the best experienc'd The skilfulst and the rarest of all Carpenters , Should not be yet a Privy Counsellour ! Surely the State wants eyes , or has drunke opium And sleepes ; but when it wakes it cannot chuse But meet the glorious beams of my deserts Bright as the rising Sunne , and say to England , England behold thy light ! Micro . Make me a constable ! Make me that am the simplest of my neighbours So great a Magistrate ! so powrfull an officer ! I blush at my unworthinesse : a Constable ! The very Prince o' th' parish ! you are one Sir Of an ability to discharge it better , Let me resigne to you . Cau. How ? I a Constable ? What might I be in your opinion Sir ? Micro .

A Carpenter of worship ▪

Cau. Very well ; And yet you would make me a Constable . I 'le evidently demonstrate that of all men Your Carpentes are best States-men ; of all Carpenters I being the best , am best of Statesmen too : Imagine Sir the Common-wealth a Logge , Or a rude block of wood ; your States-man comes , ( For by that word I mean a Carpenter ) And with the sawe of Policy divides it Into so many boards or severall orders , Of Prince , Nobility , Gentry , and the other Inferiour boards calld Vulgar , fit for nothing But to make styles , or planks to be ▪ trod over , Or trampled on : This addes unto the Logg Call'd Common-wealth at least some smal perfection : But afterwards he plains them , and so makes The Common-wealth , that was before a board , A pretty Wainscoat ; some he carves with Titles Of Lord , or Knight , or Gentleman ; Some stand plain , And serve us more for use then Ornament , We call them Yeomen ; ( Boards now out of fashion . ) And lest the disproportion breake the frame , He with the peggs of amity and concord , As with the glew-pot of good Government Ioynts 'em together , makes an absolute Edifice Of the Re-publique : State-skill'd Machiavell Was certainly a Carpenter ; yet you thinke A Constable a Gyant Dignity . Micro . Pray Heaven that Icarus-like I doe not melt The waxen plumes of my ambition ! Or that from this bright Chariot of the Sunne I fall not headlong down with Phaeton , I have aspir'd so high : make me a Constable That have not yet attain'd to the Greeke tongue ! Why 't is his office for to keepe the peace , His Majesties Peace : I am not fit to keepe His Majesties Hoggs , much lesse his Peace , the best Of all his jewells : How dare I presume To charge a man in the Kings name ! I faint Vnder the burthen of so great a place , Whose weight might presse down Atlas : Magistrates Are only Sumpter-horses . Nay they threaten me To make me Warden of the Church . Am I a Patriot ? or have I ability To present Knights-Recusant , Clergy-Reelers , Or Gentlemen-Fornicators ? Colax . You have worth Richly enamel'd with a modesty . And though your lofty merit might sit crown'd On Caucasus , or the Pyrenean mountaines , You choose the humbler valley , and had rather Grow a safe shrub below , then dare the winds , And be a Cedar : Sir you know there is not Halfe so much honour in the Pilots place As danger in the storme . Poore windy Titles Of Dignity , and offices that puffe up The bubble pride till it swell big , and burst , What are they but brave nothings ? Toies cal'd Honours Make them on whom they are bestow'd no better Then glorious slaves , the servants of the Vulgar : Men sweat at Helme , as much as at the Oare . There is a Glasse within shall shew you sir The vanity of these filke-wormes , that doe think They toile not , 'cause they spin so fine a thread . Micro . I 'le see it . Honour is a babies rattle , And let blind Fortune where she will , bestow her ; Lay me on earth , and I shall fall no lower . Exit . Cau.

Colax what newes ?

Col. The Persian Emperour Is desperatly sick . Cau. Heaven take his soule ! When I am the Grand Sophie , as 't is likely I may be , Colax thou art made for ever . Col.

The Turke they say prepares again for Poland .

Cau.

And I no Basshaw yet ? Sultan repent it !

Col.

The State of Venice too is in distraction .

Cau. And can that State be so supinely negligent , As not to know whom they may choose their Duke ? Col. Our Merchants doe report th' inhabitants there Are now in consultation , for the setling The Crown upon a more deserving head Then his that bears it . Cau. Then my fortunes rise On confident wings , and all my hopes fly certain . Colax be bold : thou seest the Prester Iohn . Well England , of all Countries in the World Most blind to thy own good . other Nations Wooe me to take the bridle in my hands With gifts and presents ; had I liv'd in Rome Who durst with Caunus stand a candidate ? I might have choice of Aedile , Consull , Tribune , Or the perpetuall Dictators place . I could discharge 'em all : I know my merits Are large , and boundlesse : A Cesar might be hewed Out of a Carpenter , if a skilfull workman But undertooke it . Colax . T is a worthy confidence . Let Birds of night and shame , with their owles eyes Not dare to gaze upon the sunne of Honour ; They are no presidents for Eagles : Bats Like dull Micropsychus ; things of earth , and lead , May love a private safety ; men in whom Prometheus has spent much of his stolne fire , Mount upwards like a flame , and court bright honour Hedg'd in with thousand dangers ! What s a man Without desert ? and what 's desert to him That does not know he has it ? Is he rich That holds within his house some buried chests Of Gold , or Pearle , & knowes not where to look then ? What was the Load-stone , till the use was found , But a fowle dotard on a fowler Mistresse ? I praise your Argus eyes , that not alone Shoote their beames forwards , but reflect and turne Back on themselves , and finde an object there More worthy their intentive contemplation . You are at home no stranger , but are growne Acquainted with your vertues , and can tell What use the pearle is of , which Dunghill cocks Scrape into dirt againe . This searching judgement Was not intended to worke wood , but men . Honour attends you . I shall live to see A Diadem crowne that head . There is within A Glasse that will acquaint you with all places Of Dignity , authority , and renowne , The State , and carriage of them : Choose the best , Such as deserve you , and refuse the rest . Cau. I goe , that want no worth to merit honour ; 'T is honour that wants worth to merit mee . Fortune , thou arbitresse of humane things Thy credit is at stake : if I but rise The Worlds opinion will conceive th' hast eyes . Exit .
SCEN. 3. Orgylus . Aorgus . Rosc.

These are the extreams of Meeknesse . Orgylus an angry quarrelsome man , mov'd with the least shadow , or appearance of Iniury . The other in defect , Aorgus , a fellow so patient , or rather insensible of wrong , that he is not capable of the grossest abuse .

Org. Perswade me not , he has awak'd a fury That carries steele about him . Daggs , and Pistolls ! To bite his thumb at me ? Aor . Why should not any man Bite his own thumbe ? Org. At mee ? weare I a sword To see men bite their thumbs — Rapiers and Daggers ! - He is the sonne of a Whore . Aor . That hurts not you . Had he bit yours , it had been some pretence T' have mov'd this anger — he may bite his own , And eate it too . Org. Muskets , and Canons!-eate it ? If he dare eate it in contempt of me , He shall eate something else too that rides here ; I le try his estridg stomack . Aor .

Sir be patient .

Org.

You lye in your throat , and I will not .

Aor . To what purpose is this impertinent madnesse ? Pray be milder . Org.

Your Mother was a whore , & I will not put it up .

Aor .

Why should so slight a toye thus trouble you ?

Org.

Your Father was hang'd , and I will be reveng'd .

Aor . When reason dorh in equall ballance poize The nature of two injuries , yours to me Lyes heavy , when that other would not turne An even scale ; and yet it moves not mee ; My Anger is not up . Org. But I will raise it ; You are a foole ! Aor . I know it , and shall I Be angry for a truth ? Org. You are besides An arrant knave ! Aor .

So are my betters sir.

Org. I cannot move him — O my spleen ! — it rises , For very anger I could eat my knuckles . Aor .

You may , or bite your thumb all 's one to mee .

Org.

You are a horned beast , a very Cuckold !

Aor . 'T is my wives fault , not mine , I have no reason Then to be angry for anothers finne . Org. And I did graft your horns , you might have come And found us glewd together like two goats ; And stood a witnesse to your transformation . Aor . Why if I had , I am so farre from anger I would have e'ne falne down upon my knees , And desir'd heaven to have forgiven you both . Org. Your Children are all bastards , not one of them , Vpon my knowledge , of your own begetting . Aor . Why then I am the more beholding to them That they will call me father ; it was lust Perchance , that did beget them , but I am sure 'T is charity to keepe the Infants . Org. Not yet stirr'd ? 'T is done of meere contempt , he will not now Be angry , to expresse his scorne of me . 'T is above patience this , insufferable . Proclaime me coward , if I put up this ! Dotard you will be angry , will you not ? Aor . To see how strange a course fond wrath doth goe ! You will be angry 'cause I am not so . Or. I , can endure no longer , if your spleene Lye in your breech , thus I will kick it up . - Aor .

Alpha. Beta . Gamma . Delta . Epsylon . Zeta . Eta . Theta . Iota . Kappa . Lamda ▪ Mu. Nu. Xi . Omicron . Pi. Ro. Sigma . Tau. Vpsilon . Phi. Chi. Psi. Omega .

Org.

How ? what contempt is this ?

Aor . An antidote Against the poison , Anger : 't was prescrib'd A Roman Emperour , that on every injury Repeated the Greek Alphabet , that being done His anger too was over . This good rule I learn'd from him , and Practise . Org. Not yet angry ? Still will you vexe me ? I will practise too ? ( Kicks again ) Aor .

Aleph . Beth. Gimel .

Org. What new Alphabet Is this ? Aor . The Hebrew Alphabet , that I use A second remedy . Org. O my Torment ! still ? Are not your Buttocks angry with my toes ? Aor . For ought I feele your toes have more occasion For to be angry with my Buttocks . Org. Well , I 'le try your Physick for the third assault ; And exercise the patience of your nose . Aor .

A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. K. L. M. N. O. P. Q. R. S. T. V. W. X. Y. Z.

Org.

Are you not angry now ?

Aor . Now sir , why now ? Now you have done . Org. O 't is a meere plot this , To jeere my tamenesse : will no sense of wrong Waken the lethargy of a cowards soule ? Will not this rowse her ●…rom her dead sleepe , nor this ? Aor . Why should I sir be angry ; if I suffer An injury , it is no guilt of mine ; No , let it trouble them , that doe the wrong ; Nothing but peace approaches innocence . Org. A bitternesse o'reflows me ; my eyes flame , My blood boyles in me , all my faculties Of soule and body move in a disorder ; His patience hath so tortur'd me : Sirra villain I will dissect thee with my rapiers point ; Rip up each veine , and sinewe of my storque , Anatomize him , searching every entraile , To see if nature , when she made this asse , This suffering asse ; did not forget to give him Some gall ! Cola. Put it up good Orgylus , Let him not glory in so brave a death , As by your hand ; it stands not with your honour To stain your rapier in a cowards blood . The Lybian Lions in their noble rage Will prey on Bulls , or mate the Vnicorne ; But trouble not the painted butterflye ; Ants crawle securely by him . Orgy. 'T is intollerable ! Would thou wert worth the killing . Colax . A good wish , Savouring as well discretion , as bold valour : Think not of such a baffel'd asse as this , More stone , then man : Medusa's head has turn'd him . There is in ants a choler , every flye Carries a spleene : Poore wormes being trampled on Turne tayle , as bidding battaile to the feet Of their oppref●…ors . A dead palsy sure Hath struck a desperate numnesse through his soule , Till it be growne insensible : Meere stupidity Hath ceaz'd him : Your more manly soule I find Is capable of wrong , and like a flint Throwes forth a fire into the strikers eyes . You beare about you valours whetstone , anger ; Which sets an edge upon the sword , and makes it Cut with a ●…pirit : you conceive fond patience Is an injustice to our selves , the suffering One injury invites a second , that Calls on a third , till wrongs doe multiply And reputation bleed : How bravely anger Becomes that martiall brow ! A glasse within Will shew you sir when your great spleene doth rise How fury darts a lightning from your eyes . Org. Learne anger sir against you meet me next ; Never was man like me with patience vext . Exit . Aor . I am so farre from anger in my selfe , That 't is my grief I can make others so . Colax . It proves a sweetnesse in your disposition , A gentle winning carriage — deare Aorgus O give me leave to open wide my brest , And let so rare a freind unto my soule ; Enter , and take possession : such a man As has no gall , no bitternesse , no exceptions , Whom nature meant a Dove , will keepe alive The ●…ame of amitie , where all discourse Flowes innocent , and each free jest is taken . Hee 's a good freind will pardon his freinds errours , But hee 's a better takes no notice of them . How like a beast with rude and savage rage Breath'd the distemper'd soule of Orgylus ? The pronenesse of this passion is the Nurse That fosters all confusion , ruines states , Depopulates Cities , layes great Kingdomes wast ; 'T is that affection of the mind that wants The strongest bridle ; give it raines it runnes A desperate course , and drags downe reason with it . It is the whirlwind of the soule , the storme And tempest of the mind , that raises up The billowes of disturbed passions To shipwrack Iudgment . O — a soule like yours Constant in patience ! Let the North wind mee●… The South at sea , and Zephyrus breath opposite To Eurus ; let the two and thirty sonnes Of Eolus break forth at once , to plow The Ocean , and dispeople all the woods , Yet here could be a calme , it is not danger Can make this cheeke grow pale , nor injury Call blood into it . Their 's a Glasse within Will let you see your selfe , and tell you now How sweet a tamenesse dwells upon your brow . Aor . Colax , I must believe , and therefore goe ; Who is distrustfull will be angry too .
SCEN. 4. Alazon . Eiron . Rosc.

The next are the extreames of Truth , Alazon one that arrogates that to himselfe which is not his , and Eiron one that out of an itch to be thought modest dissembles his qualities ; the one erring in defending a falshood , the other offending in denying a truth .

Alaz .

I heare you 're wondrous valiant .

Eir. I ! alas , Who told you I was valiant ? Alaz .

The world speaks it .

Eir.

She is deceiv'd ; but does she speak it truly ?

Alaz . I am indeed the Hector of the age ; But she calls you Achilles . Eir. I Achilles ? No , I am no Achilles : I confesse I am no coward : That the world should think That I am an Achilles ! yet the world may Call me what she please . Alaz . Next to my valour , Which but for yours could never hope a second , Yours is reported . Eir. I may have my share ; But the last valour shew'd in Christendo●…e Was in Lepanto . Alaz . Valour in Lepanto ? He might be thought so sir , by them that knew him not ; But I have found him a poore baffel'd snake : Sir , I have writ him , and proclaim'd him coward On every post i' th' City . Eiron .

Who ?

Alaz . Lepanto , The valour sir that you so much renowne . Eir. Lepanto was no man sir , but the place Made famous by the so-much mention'd battaile Betwixt the Turks and Christians . Alaz . Cry you mercy ! Then the Lepanto that I meant , it seemes Was but that Lepanto's name-sake . I can Find that you are well skill'd in History . Eir. Not a whit ; A novice , I ! I could perchance Discourse from Adam downward ; but what 's that To History ? All that I know is only Th' originall , continuance , height , and alteration Of every Common wealth . I have read nothing But Plutarch , Livy , Tacitus , Suetonius , Appian , Dion , Iunius , P●…terculus , With Florus , Iustine , Salust , and some few More of the Latine : For the moderne , I Have all without book Gallo-belgicus , Phillip De-Comino , Machiavele , Guiccardine , The Turkish and Aegyptian Histories , With those of Spaine , France , and the Netherlands . For England , Polydore Virgil , Camden , Speed , And a matter of forty more , nothing Alas to one that 's read in Histories . In the Greeke I have a smack or so , at Zenophon , Herodotus , Thucidides , and Stowes Cronicle . Alaz . Believe me sir , and that Stowes Cronicle is very good Greeke ; you litle Think who writ it ! Doe you not see him ? are You blind ? I am the man . Eir. Then I must number You with my best Authors in my Library . Alaz . Sir , the rest too are mine , but that I venture '●…m With other names , to shunne the opinion Of arrogance ; so the subt'le Cardinall Calls one book Bellarmine , ' nother Tostatus , Yet one mans labour both . You talk of numbring ; You cannot choose but heare how lowd fame speaks Of my experience in Arithmetique : She sayes you too grow neare perfection . Eir. Farre from it I ; some in-sight , but no more . I count the starres , can give the Totall summe , How many sands there be i' th' sea , but these Are triflles to the expert , that have studied Pen. keth-mans president . Sir , I have no skill In any thing , if I have any , 't is In languages , but yet insooth I speak Only my mother Tongue ; I have not gain'd The Hebrew , Chaldee , Syriack , or Arabick ; Nor know the Greek with all her Dialects . Scaliger and Tom Coriate both excell me . I have no skill in French , Italian , Spanish , Turkish , Aegyptian , China , Persian Tongues ▪ Indeed the Latine I was whipt into ; But Ruscian , Slavonian , and Dalmatian With Saxon , Danish , and Albanian speech , That of the Cossaches , and Hungarian too , With Biscays , and the prime of languages , Dutch , Weltch , and Irish are too hard for me To be familiar in : and yet some think ( But thought is free ) that I doe speak all these As I were borne in each . But they may erre That think so ; 'T is not every Iudgment sits In the infallible chaire . To confesse truth All Europe , Asia , and Affrick too ; But in America , and the new-found world I very much feare there be some languages That would goe neere to puzzle me . Alaz . Very likely . You have a pretty pittance in the Tongues ; But Eiron , I am now more generall ; I can speak all alike , there is no stranger Of so remote a nation heares me talke But confidently calls me Country-man - The witty world giving my worth her due Surnames me the Confusion ▪ I but want An Oratour like you to speak my praise . Eir. Am I an Oratour Alazon ? no ; Though it hath pleas'd the wiser few to say Demosthenes was not so eloquent ; But freinds will flatter , and I am not bound To believe all Hyperboles : something sir Perchance I have , but 't is not worth the naming ▪ Especially Alazon in your presence . Alaz .

Your modesty Eiron speaks but truth in this .

Colax . I need not flatter these , they 'le doe 't themselves , And crosse the Proverb that was wont to say One Mule doth scrub another , here each Asse Hath learn'd to claw himselfe . Alaz . I doe ●…urpasse All Oratours . How like you my Orations ? Those against Catiline ; I account them best , Except my Philippicks ; all acknowledge me Above the three great Oratours of Rome . Eir.

What three Alazon ?

Ala. Marcus , Tullius , And Cicero , the best of all the three . Eir.

Why those three names are all the selfe same mans

Alaz . Then all is one . Were those three names three men . I should excell them all . And then for Poetry ! Eir.

There is no Poetry but Homers Iliads .

Alaz . Alasse t was writith ' nonage of my Muses . You understand th' Italian ? Eir. A little sir , I have read Tasso . Ala.

And Torquato too ?

Eir.

Their still the same .

Ala. I find you very skilfull . Eiron , I erre only to found your judgement . You are a Poet too . Eir. The world may think so , But 't is deceiv'd , and I am sorry for 't . But I will tell you sir some excellent verses Made by a friend of mine ; I have not read A better Epigram of a Neoterique . Ala.

Pray doe my eyes the favour sir to let mee read 'um .

Eir. Strange sights there late was seene , that did affright The Multitude ; the Moone was seene by night , And Sun appear'd by day : — is it not good ? Ala.

Excellent good , proceed .

Eir. Without remorse Each starre and planet kept their wonted course . What here could fright ▪ them ? ( mark the answer now ) O sir aske not that : The Vulgar know not why they feare , nor what . But in their humors too inconstant bee , Nothing seemes strange to them but constancy . Has not my friend approv'd himselfe a Poet ? Alaz . The Verses sir are excellent , but your friend Approves himselfe a thiefe . Eir.

Why good Alazon ?

Alaz . A Plagiary I mean , the verses sir Were stolne . Eir.

From whom ?

Alaz .

From me , beleeu 't I made 'um .

Eir. They are alasse unworthy sir your owning . Such Trifles as my muse had stumbled on This morning . Alaz . Nay , they may be yours : I told you That you come neare me sir. Yours they may be . Good witts may jump : but let me tell you , Eiron , Your Freind must steale them if he have them . Col. What pretty Gulls are these ? I le take 'um off ; Alazon , you are learned . Alaz .

I know that .

Col.

And vertuous .

Alaz .

T is confessd .

Col.

A good Historian .

Alaz .

Who dares deny it ?

Col.

A rare Arithmetician .

Alaz .

I' have heard it often .

Col. I commend your care That know your vertues ! why should modesty Stop good mens mouthes from their own praise ? our neighbours Are envious , and will rather blast our memories With infamy , then immortalize our names : When Fame hath taken cold , and lost her voice , We must be our own trumpets ; carefull men Will have an Inventory of their goods , And why not of their vertues ? should you say You were not wise , it were a sinne to truth . Let Eirons modesty tell bashfull lies , To cloake and masque his parts ; hee 's a foole for 't . T was heavenly counsell bid us know our selves . You may be confident , chaunt your own encomiums , Ring out a Panegyrique to your selfe ▪ And your selfe write the learned Commentarie Of your own actions . Ala.

So I have .

Col.

Where is it ?

Ala.

T is stolne .

Col. I know the thiefe , they call him Cesar. Goe in good sir ; there is within a Glasse That will present you with the Felons face . Exit Alaz . Eiron , you hear the newes ! Eir :

Not I , what is it ?

Col.

That you are held the only man of Art .

Eir.

Is 't currant Colax ?

Col. Currant as the aire , Every man breaths it for a certainty . Eir. This is the first time I hear'd on 't in truth . Can it be certain ? so much charity left In mens opinion ? Col. You call it charity Which is their duty : Vertue sir , like yours Commands mens praises . Emptinesse and folly , Such as Alazon is , use their own Tongues , While reall worth hears her own praise , not speaks it . Other mens mouths become your trumpeters , And winged fame proclaimes you lowdly forth From East to West , till either Pole admire you . Selfe-praise is bragging , and begets the envy Of them that heare it , while each man therein Seemes undervalued : You are wisely silent In your own worth , and therefore 't were a sinne For others to be so : The fish would loose Their being mute , ere such a modest worth Should want a speaker : yet sir I would have you Know your own vertues , be acquainted with them . Eir.

Why good sir bring me but acquainted them .

Col. There is a glasse within shewes you your selfe By a reflection ; goe and speake 'em there . Eir.

I should be glad to see 'em any where ▪

Exit Eir. Rosc. Retire your selves againe , for these are sights Made to revive not burden with delights . Exeunt omnes . Finis Actus 3.
ACTUS IV.
SCENA 1. Flowrdew , Bird , Roscius . Bird. My indignation boileth like a pot , An over-heated pot , still , still it boyleth , It boyleth and it bubleth with disdaine . Flow. My Spirit within me too fumeth , I say Fumeth , and steemeth up , and runneth ore With holy wrath , at these delights of flesh . Rosc.

The Actours beg your silence — The next vertue , whose extreames we would present , wants a name both in the Greeke and Latine ,

Bird.

Wants it a name ? 't is an unchristian vertue .

Rosc.

But they describe it such a modesty as directs us in the pursuit , and refusall of the meaner honours●… and so answers to Magnanimity , as Liberality to Magnificence : But here , that humor of the persons , being already forestall'd , and no Pride now so much practis'd , or countenanc'd as that of Apparell , let me present you Philotimia , an overcurious Lady too neat in her attire ▪ and for Aphilotimus , Luparius a nasty sordid sloven .

Flowr . Pride is a vanity worthy the correction . Philotimia ▪ Luparus ▪ Col●… . Phil. What mole drest me to day ? O patience ▪ Who would be troubled with these mop-eyd Chambermaids ? Ther 's a whole haire on this side more then t'other , I am no Lady else ! — come on you sloven ! Was ever Christian Madam so tormented To wed a swine as I am ? make you ready . Lupa . I would the Tailor had bin hang'd for mee That first invented cloathes — O nature , nature ! More cruell unto man then all thy creatures ! Calves come into the world with dublets on ; And Oxen have no breeches to put off . The Lambe is borne with her Freeze-coat about her ; Hoggs goe to bed in rest , and are not troubled With pulling 〈◊〉 their hose and shoos i'th'morning , With gar●…ing , ●…rdling , trussing , buttoning , And a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that afflict humanity . Phil. To 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ! shee hath made this cheek By much too 〈◊〉 , and hath forgot to whiten The naturall rednesse of my nose , she knowes not What 't is wants dealbation ! O fine memory ! If she has not set me in the selfe same teeth That I wore yesterday , I am a jew . Does she think that I can eate twice with the same , Or that my mouth stands as the Vulgar does ? What ? are you snorting there ? you le rise , you sluggard And make you ready ? Lupa . Rise , and make you ready ? Two workes of that , your happy birds make one ; They when they rise are ready . Blessed birds ! They fortunate creatures sleepe in their own clothes , And rise with all their feather beds about them : Would nakednesse were come again in fashion ; I had some hope then when the brests went bare Their bodies too would have come to 't in time . Phil. Beshrew her for 't , this wrinkle is not fill'd ! You ll goe and wash — you are a pretty husband ▪ Lupa . Our Sow ne're washes , yet she has a face Me thinks as cleanly , Madam , as yours is ▪ If you durst weare your own . Col: Madame Superbia ▪ You' are studying the Ladies library , The Looking-glasse ; 't is well ! so great a beauty Must have her ornaments — Nature adornes The Peacocks taile with starres ; 't is shee attires The Bird of Paradise in all her plumes ; She decks the fields with various flowres ; 't is shee Spangled the Heavens with all those glorious lights ; She spotted th' Ermine's skin ; and arm'd the fish In silver male : But man she sent forth naked Not that he should remaine so , but that he Indued with reason should adorne himselfe With every one of these . The silke-worme is Only mans spinster , else we might suspect That she esteem'd the painted Butterfly Above her master-piece : you are the Image Of that bright Goddesse : therefore weare the Iewels Of all the East ; let the red sea be ransack'd To make you glitter , looke on Luparus Your Husband there , and see how in a sloven All the best characters of Divinity , Not yet worne out in man , are lost and buried . Philo.

I see it to my griefe , pray counsell him .

Col. This vanity , in your nice Ladies humors Of being so curious in her toies , and dresses , Makes me suspitious of her honesty . These Cobweb-lawnes catch spiders sir , believe it ▪ You know that clothes doe not commend the man , But 't is the living ; though this age preferre A cloake of Plush , before a braine of art . You understand what misery 't is to have No worth but that we owe the dra●…er for ; No doubt you spend the time your Lady looses In tricking up her body , to cloth the soule . Lup. To cloth the soule ? must the soule too be cloth'd ? I protest sir , I had rather have no soule Then be tormented with the clothing of it . Rosc.

To these enter the extreames of modesty , a neer●… kinswoman of the vertues , Anaiskinthia or Impudence , a bawd ; and Kataplectus an over bashfull Scholar ▪ where our Author hopes the women will pardon him , if of foure and twenty vices he presents but two ( Pride and Impudence ) of their sexe .

SCENA 2. Anaiskintia . Kataplectus . Philo. Here comes Anaiskintia too ; — O fates ! Acolastus , and Asotus have sent for mee , And my breath not perfum'd yet ! Kat. O sweetmother , Are the Gentlemen there already ? Anais . Come away , Are you not asham'd to be so bashfull ? well , If I had thought of this in time , I would As soone have seene you fairely hang'd as sent you To ' th' Vniversity . Phil.

What gentleman is that ?

Anais . A shamefast Scholar Madam ▪ — looke upon her , Speake to her , or you loose your exhibition : — You le speake I hope , weare not away your buttons ▪ Kata .

What should I say ?

Anaisk . Why tell her you are glad To see her Ladiship in health — nay out with it ! Katap. — Gaudeo te bone valere — Phil. A pretty Proficient ! What standing is he of i' th' Vniversity ? Anais .

He dares not answer to that question Madam . —

Philo.

How long have you bin in the Academy ?

Katap.

Profecto Do — Domina sum Bac — Bac — Bac●…halaureus Artium .

Phil.

What pitty 't is he is not impudent !

Anais . Nay all my cost I see is spent in vaine ; I having , as your Ladiship knowes full well , Good practice in the Suburbs ; and by reason That our Mortality there , is very subject To an infection of the French Disease , I brought my Nephew up 'i th' Vniversity , Hoping he might ( having attain'd some knowledge ) Save me the charge of keeping a Physitian ; But all in vaine : he is so bashfull Madam , He dares not looke upon a womans water . Colax . Sweet Gentleman , proceed in bashfulnesse ! 'T is vertues best preserver — Kata .

Recte dicis , sic inquit Aristoteles .

Col. That being gone The rest soone follow , and a swarme of vice Enter the soule , no colour but a blush Becomes a young mans cheeke : pure sha●…efastnesse Is 〈◊〉 to the ●…ps ; and eares , that nothing Might enter , or come out of man , but what Is good , and modest : Nature strives to hide The parts or shame , let her , the best of guides , Katap.

Natura dux 〈◊〉 .

Colax .

Teach us to doe so too in our discourse .

Katap.

Gratias tibi ago .

Philo.

Inure him to speake bawdy .

Anais . A very good way ; Kataplectus here 's a Lady , would heare you speake obscenely : Katap.

Obscen●…m est , quod intra scenam agi non ●…portuit .

Anais . Off goes your Velvet cap ! did I maintaine you To have you disobedient ? you 'l be perswaded ? Katap.

Liber is operam dare .

Anais .

What 's that in English .

Katap.

To doe an endeavour for children ▪

Anais .

Some more of this , it may be something one day .

Katap.

Communis est omnium animantium coniunctionis appetituus procrea●… causâ .

Phil.

Construe me that .

Katap.

All creatures have a naturall desire or appetite to be joyned together in the lawfull bon●…s of Matrimony , that they may have sons and daughters .

Anais . Your Landresse has bestow'd her time but ill ▪ Why could not this have been in proper tearmes ? If you should Catechize my head , and say , What is your name , would it not ●…ay , a head ? So would my skinne confesse it selfe a skinne ; Nor any part about me be asham'd Of his owne name , although I ●…atechiz'd All over . Come good Nephew , let not me Have any member of my body 〈◊〉 . Colax . Our Stoique , the gravest o●… Philosophers , Is just of your opinion , and thus argues ; Is any thing obscene , the fil●…hinesse ▪ Is either grounded in the things themselves , Or in the words that signifie those things ; Not in the things , that would make nature guilty , Who creates nothing filthy , and u●…cleane , But chast , and honest ; if not in the things , How in the words , 〈◊〉 shadowes of those things ? To ma●…re ground , 〈◊〉 a cha●…t honest 〈◊〉 ; Another word that signifies the same , Vnlawfull : every man endures to heare , He got a child ; speak plainer , and he blushes , Yet meanes the same . The Stoique thus disputes , That would have men to breath as freely down'ward , As they doe upward . Anais . I commend him Madam , Vnto your Ladyships service , he may me●…d With counsell ! let him be your Gentleman-usher ; Madam you may in time bring down his legs To the just size , now over grown with playing Too much at foot-ball . Phylo. So he will prove a Stoique ; I long to have a Stoique strut before me : Here kisse my hand . Come what is that in Latine ? Katap.

Deo●…culor manum ,

Phylo.

My lip ; — nay sir you must if I command you .

Katap.

Osculorte , velosculor ate .

Phylo.

His breath smells strong .

Anais .

'T is but of Logick Madam .

Phylo. He will come to it one day — you shall goe with mee To see an exquisite glasse to dresse me by . Nay , goe ! you must goe first ; you are too mannerly . It is the office of your place , so — on ▪ . exeunt . Colax . Slow Luparus rise , or you 'l be metamorphos'd ; Acteon's fate is imminent . Lup.

Where 's my wife :

Cola.

Shee 's gone with a young Snip , and an old baud .

Lup. Then I am cuckolded ; if I be my comfort is She' has put me on a cap , that will not trouble me With pulling off , yet Madam I 'le prevent you . Exit . Rosci .

The next are the extreames of Iustice .

SCEN. 3. Enter Iustice Nimis , Iustice Nihil . Plus and Minus their Clarkes . Nim.

Plus !

Plus .

What sayes your worship ?

Nim. Have my tenants That hold their lease of lust here in the suburbs , By copy-hold from me , their Lord in chief , Paid their rent charge ? Plus . They have , and 't please your worship ; I Receiver generall gave 'em my acquittance . Parum . Sir I resigne my Pen , and Inkhorn to you , I shall forget my hand , if I stay here . I have not made a Mittimus since I serv'd you . Were I a reverend Iustice as you are , I would not sit a Cipher on the Bench , But doe as Iustice Nimis does , and be The Dominus-fac-totun●… of the Sessions . Nihil . But I will be a Dominus fac miserecordian ▪ Instead of your Totums : People shall not wish To see my spurres fil'd off , it does me good To take a mercifull nap upon the Bench , Where I soe sweetly dreame of being pittifull , wake the better for it . Nim. The yearly value Of my faire manour of Clerken-well●… , is pounds So many — besides New years capons , the Lordship Of Turnball so — which with my Pick-hatch grange — And Shoreditch farme , and other premises Adjoyning , — very good , a pretty maintenance To keepe a Iustice of Peace , and Coram too : Besides the fines I take of young beginners , — With harriots of all such as dye , quatenus whores , And ruin'd bauds , with all Amercements due To such as hunt in Purly ; this is something , With mine own Game reserv'd . Plus . Besides a pretty pittance too for me , That am your worships Bayly . Parum . Will 't please your worship sir , to heare the Catalogue Of such offenders , as are brought before you ? Nihil . It does not please me Sir , to heare of any That doe offend ; I would the world were innocent ! Yet to expresse my mercy you may read them . Par.

First here is one accus'd for Cutting a purse ,

Nihil . Accus'd , is that enough ? if it be guilt To be accus'd , who shall be innocent ? Discharge him Parum . Parum . Here 's another brought For the same fact , ta'ne in the very Action . Nihil . Alas it was for need , bid him take warning , And so discharge him too ; 'T is the first time . Nimis .

Plus , say , what hopes of gaine brings this day's sinne ?

Plus . Anais kyntia Sir was at doore Brought by the Constable . Nimis . Set the Constable by the heeles . Shee 's at certain with us . Plus .

Then there 's Intemperance the baud .

Nim.

A Tenant too .

Plus .

With the young Lady , Madam Incontinence .

Nim. Search o're my Doomes-day book ; is not she●… Plus One of my last compounders ? Plus . I remember it . Then there is jumping Iude , Heroique Doll , With bouncing Nan , and Cis , your worship's sinner . Nim.

All Subsidy women , goe free 'em all .

Parum . Sir , here 's a knowne offender : one that has Been stockt , and whipt innumerable times , Has suffer'd Bridewell often , not a Iayle But hee 's familiar with , burnt in the hand , Forehead , and shoulder , both his eares cut off , With his nose slit , what shall I doe with him ? Nih . So often punish'd ? nay , if no correction Will serve his turne ; e'en let him runne his course . Plus .

Here 's Mistresse Fraylty too , the waiting woman .

Nim.

For what offence ?

Plus .

A sinne of weaknesse too .

Nim.

Let her be strongly whipt ,

Plus , An 't please your worship She has a noble mans letter . Nim. Tell her , Plus , she must Have the Kings Picture too . Plus . Besides She has promis'd me I should examine her Above i' th' garret . Nim.

What 's all that to me ?

Plus .

And she entreats your worship to accept —

Nim. Nay , if she can entreat in English , Plus , Say she is injur'd . Par. Sir here 's Snip the Taylor Charg'd with a riot . Nihil . Parum , let him goe , He is our Neighbour . Parum .

Then there is a stranger for quarrelling .

Nihil . A stranger ! o'tis pity To hurt a stranger , we may be all strangers , And would be glad to find some mercy Parum . Plus . Sir here 's a Gentle-woman of S. Ioanes ' his Charg'd with dishonesty . Nim. With dishonesty ? Severity will amend her , and yet Plus Aske her a question , if she will be honest ? Plus .

And here 's a coblers wife brought for a scold .

Nim. Tell her of cooking-stooles , tell her there be Oyster queanes , with Orange woemen , Carts , and coaches store , to make a noyse ; Yet i●… she can speak English We may suppose her silent . Par. Here 's a Batchelour And a Citizens wife for flatt Adultery ; What will you doe with them ? Nih . A Citizens wife ! Perchance her husband is grown impotent , And who can blame her then ? Par.

Yet I hope you 'l bind o're ▪ the Batchelour .

Nih . No : enquire First if he have no wife , for if the Batchelour Have not a wife of his owne , 't was but frailty ; And Iustice counts it veniall . Plus . Here 's one Adicus , And Sophron , that doe mutually accuse Each other of flat fellony ! Nim.

Of the two which is the richer ?

Plus .

Adicus is the richer .

Nim.

Then Sophron is the thief .

Plus . Here is with all , Panourgus come with one calld Prodotes , Lay treason Sir to one anothers charge ; Panourgus is the richer . Nim.

Hee 's the Traytour then .

Plus .

How Sir the richer ?

Nim. Thou art ignorant Plus ; We must doe some injustice for our credit , Not all for gaine . Plus . Eutrapeles complains Sir , Bomolochus has abus'd him . Nim.

Send Eutrapeles to th' Iayle .

Plus .

It is Eutrapeles that complaines Sir .

Nim. Tell him we are pleas'd to think 't was he offended . Will must be law : wer 't not for Summum Ius , How could the land subsist ? Colax . I , or the Iustices Maintaine themselves — goe on — The Land wants such As dare with rigor execute her Lawes : Her festred members must be lanc't and tented . Hee 's a bad Surgeon , that for pitty spares The part corrupted , 'till the Gangrene spread , And all the body perish ; he that 's mercifull Vnto the bad , is cruell to the good . The Pillory must cure the eares disease ; The stocks the foots offences ; let the backe Beare her own sinne , and her ranke blood purge forth By the Phlebotomy of a whipping post : And yet the secret , and purse punishment Is held the wiser course ; because at once It helpes the vertuous and corrects the vitious . Let not the sword of Iustice sleepe and rust Within her velvet sheath ; preserve her edge , And keepe it sharpe with cutting . Vse must whet her , Tame mercy is the brest that suckles vice , Till Hydra like she multiply her heads . Tread you on sinne , squeeze out the Serpents braines , All you can finde — for some have lurking holes Where they lye hid . But there 's within a glasse Will shew you every close offenders face . Nim. Come Plus let 's goe in to finde out these concealements ; We will grow rich , and purchase honour thus — I mean to be a Baron of Snmmum Ius . Exit . Ni. Plus . Parum . You are the strangest man , you will acknowledge None for offendors , here 's one apprehended For murther . Nihil .

How !

Par.

He kill'd a man last night .

Nih .

How cam't to passe .

Par.

Vpon a falling out .

Nih .

They shall be friends I 'le reconcile'em Parum .

Par.

One of them is dead .

Nih .

Is he not buried yet ?

Par.

No Sir .

Nih .

Why then I say they shall shake hands .

Col. As you have done With Clemency , most Reverend Iustice Nihil ; A gentle mildnesse thrones it selfe within you . Your Worship would have justice , use her ballance More then her sword ; nor can you endure to dye The robe she weares , deep scarlet , in the blood Of poore offendors : How many men hath rigour By her too hasty , and severe proceedings Prevented from amendment , that perchance Might have turn'd honest and have prov'd good Christians ? Should Iove not spare his thunder , but as often Discharge at us , as we dart sins at him , Earth would want men , and he himselfe want armes , And yet tire Vulcan , and Pyracmon too . You imitate the Gods ! and he sins lesse Strikes not at all , then he strikes once amisse . I would not have justice too falcon-eyed ; Sometimes a wilfull blindnesse much becomes her ; As when upon the bench she sleepes and winkes At the transgressions of Mortality : In which most mercifull posture I have seene Your pittifull Worship snorting out pardons To the despairing sinner : there 's within A Mirrour sir like you ! goe see your face How like Astreas 't is in her own Glasse . Par. And I 'le petition Iustice Nimi's Clerke To admit me for his under officer . Exeunt .
SCEN. 4. Agroicus . Rosc.

This is Agroicus , a rustique clownish fellow , whose discourse is all Country ; An extreame of urbanity , whereby you may observe there is a vertue in jesting .

Agro .

They talke of witty discourse , and fine conceits , and I ken not what a deale of prittle prattle would make a Cat pisse to heare 'em . Cannot they be content with their Grannams English ? They thinke they talke learnedly , when I had rather heare our brindled curre howle , or Sow grunt . They must be breaking of jests with a murraine , when I had as live heare 'em breake wind Sir reverence ! My zonne Dick is a pretty Bookish Scholar of his age , God blesse him ; he can write and read , and makes bonds , and bills , and hobligations , God save all . But by'r lady , if I wotted it would make him such a Iacksauce , as to have more wit then his vore-vathers , he should have learn'd nothing for old Agroicus , but to keepe a Tally . There is a new trade lately come up to be a vocation , I wis not what ; they call 'em — Boets , a new name for Beggars I think , since the statute against Gypsies . I would not have my zon Dick one of those Boets for the best Pig in my styeby the mackins : Boets ? heau'n shield him , and zend him to be a good Varmer ; if he can cry hy , ho , gee , hut , gee , ho , it is better I trow then being a Poet. Boets ? I had rather zee him remitted to the jayle , and haue his twelve God-vathers , good men and true contemne him to the Gallowes ; and there see him vairely persecuted . There is Bomolochus one of these Boets , now a bots take all the red-nose tribe of 'em for Agroicus ! he does so abuse his betters ! well 't was a good world , when I virst held the Plow !

Col. They car'd not then so much for speaking well As to mean honest , and in you still lives The good simplicity of the former times : When to doe well was Rhetorique , not to talke . The tongue disease of Court spreads her infections Through the whole Kingdome , flattery , that was wont To be confin'd within the virge , is now Grown Epidemicall , for all our thoughts Are borne between our lips : The heart is made A stranger to the tongue ; as if it us'd A language that she never understood . What is it to be witty in these daies , But to be bawdy , or prophane , at least Abusive ? Wit is grown a petulant waspe , And stings she knows not whom , nor where , nor why ; Spues vinegar , and gall on all she meets Without distinction — buyes laughter with the losse Of reputation , father , kinsman , friend ; Hunts Ord'naries only to deliver The idle Timpanies of a windy braine , That beats and throbs above the paine of child-bed , Till every eare she meets be made a mid wife To her light Bastard-issue , how many times Bomolochus sides , and shoulders ake , and groane ! Hee 's so witty — here he comes — away — Agro .

His wit is dangerous and I dare not stay .

Exit .
SCEN. 5. Bomolocus . Rosc.

This is the other extreame of Vrbanity ; Bomolocus a fellow conceited of his own wit , though indeed it be nothing but the base dreggs of scandall , and a lumpe of most vile and loathsome scurrility .

Bird. I , this is he we lookt for all the while ! Scurrility ! here she hath her impious throne , Here lies her heathenish dominion , In this most impious cell of corruption ; For 't is a Purgatory , a meerc Limbo , Where the black Divell and her damme Scurrility Doe rule the rost ; fowle Princes of the aire ! Scurrility ! that is he that throweth scandalls , Soweth , and throweth scandalls , as 't were durt Even in the face of holinesse , and devotion . His presence is contagious , like a dragon He belches poison forth , poison of the pit , Brimstone , hellish and sulphureous poyson : I will not stay , but fly as farre as zeale Can hurry me — the roofe will fall and braine me , If I endure to heare his blasphemies , His gracelesse blasphemies . Rosc. He shall vent none here ; But stay , and see how justly we have us'd him . Flow.

Stay brother , I doe find the spirit grow strong .

Col. Haile sacred wit ! — Earth breeds not Baies enough To crowne thy spatious merit . Bomo.

Oh — Oh — Oh.

Col. Cratinus , Eupolis , Aristophanes , Or whatsoever other wit did give Old Comedies the raines , and let her loose To stigmatize what brow she pleas'd with slander Of people , Prince , Nobility — All must yeeld To this Triumphant braine ! Bomo.

Oh — Oh — Oh.

Col. They say you 'l loose a friend before a jest ; 'T is true , there 's not a jest that comes from you , That is the true Minerva of this braine , But is of greater value then a world Of friends , were every prayre of men we meet A Pylades and Orestes . Bomo.

Oh — Oh — Oh.

Col. Some say you will abuse your Father too , Rather then loose the opinion of your wit ; Who would not that has such a wit as yours ? 'T were better twenty Parents were expos'd To scorne and laughter , then the simplest thought Or least conceit of yours , should dye abortive , Or perish a braine-Embrio . Bomo.

Oh — oh — oh . —

Col. How 's this ? that tongue growne silent that syrens Stood still to admire ? Bomo.

Oh — oh — oh . —

Cola. T were better that the spheares should loose their harmony , And all the Choristers of the wood grow hoarse ! What wolfe hath spied you first ? Bomo.

Oh — oh — oh —

Cola. Sure Hermes envying that there was on earth An eloquence more then his , has struck you dumb ! Malitious deitie ! Bomo.

Oh — oh — oh-oh . —

Cola. Goe in sir there 's a Glasse that will restore That tongue , whose sweetnesse Angels might adore . Bomo.

Oh — oh — oh — oh — oh — oh — . oh —

Exit . Rosc. Thus Sir you see how we have put a gagge In the licentious mouth of base scurrility ; He shall not Ibis-like purge upward here , To infect the place with pestilentiall breath ; Wee 'le keepe him tongue-tide ; you and all I promise By Phoebus and his daughters , whose chast zones Were never yet by impure hands untied Our language shall flow chast , nothing sound here That can give just offence to a strict eare . Bird.

This gagge hath wrought my good opinion of you

Flow.

I begin to think 'em lawfull recreations .

Cclax . Now there 's none left here , wheron to practise , I 'le flatter my deare selfe — o that my skill Had but a body , that I might embrace it , Kisse it ; and hugge it , and beget a brood , Another brood of pretty skills upon it ! Were I divided I would hate all beauties , And grow enamour'd with my other halfe ! Selfe-love , Narcissus , had not been a fault , Hadst thou , instead of such a beauteous face , Had but a braine like mine : I can guild vice , And praise it into Alchymie , till it goe For perfect gold , and cozen almost the touchstone . I can perswade a toad into an oxe , Till swel'd too bigge with my Hyperboles She burst a sunder ; and 't is vertues name Lends me a maske to scandalize herselfe . Vice , if it be no more , can nothing doe ; That art is great makes vertue guilty too . I have such strange varieties of colours , Such shift of shapes , blew Proteus sure begot me On a Camelion , and I change so quick That I suspect my mother did conceive me , As they say Mares doe , on some wind or other . I 'le peepe to see how many fooles I made With a report of a miraculous Glasse . — Heaven blesse me , I am ruin'd ! o my braine Witty to my undoing , I have jested My selfe to an eternall misery . I see le●…ne hunger with her meager face Ride poast to overtake me , I doe prophesie A Lent immortall : Phoebus I could curse Thee and thy brittle gifts , Pandora's box Compar'd with this might be esteem'd a blessing . The Glasse which I conceiv'd a fabulous humour Is to the height of wonder prov'd a truth . The two Extreames of every Vertue there Beholding how they either did exceed , Or want of just proportion , joyn'd together , And are reduc'd into a perfect Meane : As when the skilfull and deep learn'd Physitian Does take two different poisons , one that 's cold The other in the same degree of heate , And blend's them both to make an Antidote ; Or as the Lutanist takes Flats and Sharpes , And out of those so dissonant notes , does strike A ravishing Harmony . Now there is no vice 'T is a hard world for Colax : What shift now ? Dyscolus doth expect me — since this age Is growne too wise to entertaine a Parasite , I 'le to the Glasse , and there turne vertuous too , Still strive to please , though not to flatter you . Bird. There is good use indeed-la to be made From their Conversion . Flow. Very good insooth — la And edifying . Rosci . Give your eyes some respite . You know already what our Vices be , In the next Act you shall our Vertues see . Exeunt .
ACTVS ▪ V.
SCEN. 1. Roscius . Flowrdew . Bird. Flow. Now verily I find the devout Bee May suck the hony of good Doctrine thence , And beare it to the hive of her pure family , Whence the prophane and irreligious spider Gathers her impious Venome ! I have pick'd Out of the Garden of this Play , a good And wholesome salad of instruction ! What doe you next present ? Rosci .

The severall Vertues .

Bird.

I hope there be no Cardinall Vertues there !

Rosci .

There be not .

Bird. Then I 'le stay ; I hate a Vertue That will be made a Cardinall : Cardinall vertues , Next to Pope-vertues , are most impious ; And Bishop-vertues are unwarrantable : I will allow of none but Deacon-vertues , Or Elder-vertues . Rosci .

These are Morall vertues .

Bird.

Are they Lay-vertues ?

Rosci .

Yes !

Bird , Then they are lawfull , Vertues in Orders are unsanctified . Rosci . We doe present them royall , as they are In all their state , in a full dance . Bird. What dance ? No wanton Iig I hope , no dance is lawfull But Prinkam Prankam ! Flow. Will Vertues dance ? I hate a Vertue in a Morrice-dance ! O vile , absurd , may pole — maid-marrian vertue Rosci .

Dancing is lawfull .

Flourish . Enter Mediocritie . Flow.

Who 's this ?

Rosc.

It is the mother of the Vertues .

Flow.

Mother of Pearle I thinke , she is so gawdy

Rosci .

It is the golden Mediocritie .

Flow.

She looketh like the Idoll of Cheap-side .

Mediocritie . Med. I am that even course that must be kept To shunne two dangerous gulfes ; the middle tract 'Twixt Scylla and Charibdis ; the small Isthmus That suffers not the' Aegean tide to meet The violent rage of the Ionian wave . I am a bridge o'rean Impetuous sea ; Free , and safe passage to the wary step ! But he whose wantonnesse , or folly dares Decline to either side falls desperate Into a cetaine ruine . — Dwell with me , Whose mansion is not plac'd so neare the Sunne , As to complaine of 's neighbourhood , and be scorch'd With his directer beames : nor so remote From his bright rayes as to be situate Vnder the Icy Pole of the cold Beare ; But in a temperate zone : 't is I am she , I am the golden Mediocritie : The labour of whose wombe are all the vertues , And every passion too commendable : Sisters so like themselves , as if they were All but one birth ; no difference to distinguish them But a respect they beare to severall objects : Else had their names beene one as are their features . So when eleven faire Virgins of a blood All Sisters , and alike growne ripe of yeares , Match into severall houses , from each family , Each takes a name distinct , and all are different'd ! They are not of complexion red or pale , But a sweet mixture of the flesh and blood , As if both roses were confounded there . Their stature neither Dwarfe nor ●…yantish , But in a comely well dispos'd proportion ! And all so like their mother , that indeed They are all mine , and I am each of them . When in the midst of dangers I stand up A wary confidence betwixt feare and daring , Not so ungodly bold as not to be Fearefull of heav'ns just anger when she speaks In prodigies , and tremble at the hazard Of my Religion , shake to see my Country Threatned with fire and sword , be a stark coward To any thing may blast my reputation : But I can scorne the worst of poverty , Sicknesse , Captivity , Banishment , Grim death , If she dare meete me in the bed of honour ; Where , with my Countries cause upon my sword Not edg'd with hope or anger , nor made bold With civill blood , or customary danger ; Nor the fooles whetstone , Inexperience ; I can throw valour as a lightning from me , And then I am the Amazon fortitude ! Give me the moderate cup of lawfull pleasures , And I am Temperance . Take me wealths just steward , And call me Liberality ; with one hand I 'le gather riches home , and with the other Rightly distribute 'em , and there observe The persons , quantity , quality , time and place : And if in great expences I be set Chiefe Arbitresse , I can in glorious workes , As raising Temples , Statues , Altars , shrines Vestures , and ornaments to Religion , be Neither too thrifty nor too prodigall . And to my country the like meane observe , In building Ships , and Bulwarkes , Castles , walls Conducts , Theaters , and what else may serve her For use or ornament : And at home be royall In Buildings , Gardens , costly furniture , In entertainments free and hospitable , With a respect to my estate , and meanes , And then I may be nam'd Magnificence ; As Magnanimity , when I wisely aime At greatest honours , if I may deserve'm , Not for ambition , but for my Countryes good , And in that vertue all the rest doe dwell . In lesser dignities I want a name ; And when I am not over patient , To put up such grosse wrongs as call me coward , But can be angry , yet in that observe What cause hath mov'd my anger , and with whom , Looke that it be not suddaine , nor too thirsty Of a revenge , nor violent , nor greater Then the offence , know my time when , where I must be angry , and how long remaine so ; Then then you may surname me Mans●…ude . When in my carriage and discourse I keepe The meane that neither flatters nor offends , I am that vertue the well nurtur'd Court Gives name , and should doe being — Courtesy . Twixt fly dissembling and proud arrogance I am the vertue time calls daughter , Truth . Give me my sword and ballance rightly swayd , And Iustice is the Title I deserve . When on this stage I come with innocent wit , And jests that have more of the sait then gall , That move the laughter and delight of all , Without the griefe of one , free , chast conceits , Not scurrile , base , obscene , ill●…berall Or contumelious slanders , I am then The vertue they have term'd , Vrbanity : To whom if your least countenance may appeare . She vowes to make her constant dwelling here . My daughters now are come —
The Song — SCEN. 2. The Masque , wherein all the Vertues dance together . Medi●… . You have seene all my daughters , Gentlemen , Chuse you wives hence ; you that are Batchelors Can finde no better ; And the married too May wed 'em , yet not wrong their former wives . Two may have the same wife , and the same man May wed two Vertues , yet no Bigamie : He that weds most is chastest ; These are all The daughters of my wombe ; I have five more , The happy Issue of my Intellect , And thence syrnam'd the intellectuall Vertues . They now attend not on their Mothers train , We hope they Act in each spectators braine ! I have a Necce besides , a beauteous one My daughters deare companion — louely Friendship A royall Nymph ; her we present not to , It is a vertue we expect from you .

Exit cum Chorocantantium .

SCEN. 3. Bird.

O Sister what a glorious traine they be !

Flow They seeme to mee the Family of Love , But is there such a Glasse ; good Roscius ? Rosci . There is ! sent hither by the great Apollo , Who in the worlds bright eye and every day Set in his Car of light , survaies the earth From East to West : who finding every place Fruitfull in nothing but fantastique follies , And most ridiculous humors , as he is The God of Physique , thought it appertain'd To him to finde a cure to purge the earth Of ignorance and sinne , two grand diseases , And now grown Epidemicall : many Receits He thought upon , as to have planted Hellebore In every Garden — But none pleas'd like this . He takes out water from the Muses spring , And sends it to the North , there to be freez'd Into a Christall — That being done , he makes , A Mirror with it : and instills this vertue , That it should by reflection shew each man All his deformities both of soule and body . And cure 'em both — Flow. Good Brother le ts goe see it ! Saints may want something of perfection . Rosc. The Glasse is but of one daies continuance , For Pluto , thinking if it should cure all , His Kingdome would grow empty , ( for 't is sin That Peoples hell ) went to the fates and bid 'em Spin it too short a thred : ( for every thing As well as man is measur'd by their spindle . ) They , as they must obey , gave it a thread No longer then the Beast's of Hyppanis That in one day is spun , drawne out , and cut . But Phoebus to require the black Gods envy , Will when the Glasse is broke transfuse her vertue To live in Comedy — If you meane to see it Make hast — Flow.

We will goe post to reformation .

Exeunt . Ros. Nor is the Glasse of so short life I feare As this poore labour — our distrustfull Author Thinkes the same Sun that rose upon her cradle Will hardly set before her funerall : Your gratious and kind acceptance may Keepe her alive from death , or when shee s dead Raise her again , and spin her a new thread .
SCEN. 4. Enter Flowrdew and Bird. Flow. This ignorance even makes religion sin , Sets zeale upon the rack , and stretches her Beyond her length — Most blessed Looking-glass●… That didst instruct my blinded eyes to day , I might have gone to hell the Narrow-way ! Bird. Hereafter I will visit Comedies , And see them oft , they are good exercises ! — I 'le teach devotion now a milder temper , Not that it shall loose any of her heat Or Purity , but henceforth shall be such As shall burne bright although not blaze so much . Exe●…nt .
EPILOGVS . Roscius solus . Y' Have seen The Muses Looking-glasse , Ladyes fair , And Gentle-youths ; And others too who ere Have fill'd this Orbe : it is the end we meant Your selves unto your selves still to present . A souldier shall himselfe in Hector see , Grave Councellors , Nestor , view themselves in thee . When Lucrece Part shall on our Stage appeare , Every chast Ladie sees her shaddow there . Nay come who will , for our indifferent Glasses Will show both fooles , and knaves , and all their faces , To vexe and cure them : But we need not feare , We doe not doubt but each one now that 's here , That has a faire soule and a Beauteous face , Will visit oft the Muses Looking-glasse . FINIS .

AMYNTAS OR THE IMPOSSIBLE DOWRY .

A PASTORALL ACTED before the KING & QUEENE at White-Hall .

Written by THOMAS RANDOLPH .

Pastorem , Tityre , pingues Pascere oportet oves , diductum dicere Carmen .

OXFORD ,

Printed by Leonard Lichfield , for Francis Bowman . 1638.

Drammatis Personae . Pilumnus . The high Priest of Ceres : Father to Damon and Vrania . Medorus . Father to Laurinda . Claius . A wild Sylvan , father to Amyntas and Amaryllis . Corymbus . An under Priest . Two Rivalls in Laurinda's Love . Damon . Alexis . Amyntas . A mad Sheapheard . Laurinda . A wavering Nymph . Vrania . A sad Nymph , enamoured on Amyntas . Amarillis . A distressed sheapheardesse , in love with Damon . Thestylis . An old Nymph , sister to Claius . Iocastus . A fantastique sheapherd & fairy Knight . Bromius . His man , a blunt Clowne . Mopsus . A foolish Augur enamoured on Thestylis . Dorylas . A knavish boy . Echo . Chorus of Priests . Chorus of Sheapheards . Chorus of Nymphs . Quorum fit mentio . Philaebus . Lalage . Mycon .

The Scene Sicilie , in the holy Vale.

The time an Astrologicall day from Noone to Noone .

PROLOGVS . Nymph . Shepheard . Nym.

I Le speak the Prologue .

Sheap .

Then you doe mee wrong .

Nym.

Why , dare your Sexe compare with ours for Tongue ?

Sheap .

A Female Prologue !

Nym.

Yes , as well as Male.

Shep.

That 's a new trick ;

Nym.

And t'other is as stale .

Shep.

Men are more eloquent then women made ▪

Nym.

But women are more powrfull to perswade .

Shep.

It seemes so ; for I dare no more contend .

Nym.

Then best give ore the strife , and make an end .

Sheap .

I will not yeeld .

Nym.

Shall we divide it then ?

Sheap .

You to the Woemen speak .

Nym.

You to the Men.

Sheap . Gentlemen , looke not from us Rurall swains For polish'd speech , high lines , or Courtly straines : Expect not we should bring a labour'd Scene , Or complements ; we ken not what they meane . Nym. And Ladies , we poore Country Girles doe come With such behaviour as we learn'd at home . How shall we talke to Nymphs so trim and gay , That nere saw Lady yet but at a May ? She. His Muse is very bashfull , should you throw A Snake into her Cradle , I doe know Shee is no Hercules to outlive your Ire : Nym. One Hisse would make the fearfull foole expire , Without a sting . Shep. Gentlemen doe but you Like this , no matter what the Woemen doe . Nym. It was a sawcy Swaine thus to conclude ! Ladies , the Gentlemen are not so rude , If they were ever school'd by powrefull love , As to dislike the things you shall approve . If you but like him 't will be greater praise Then if each Muse of Nine had fetch'd him Baies .
AMYNTAS .
ACTVS I.
SCENA 1. Laurinda . Dorylas . Dor.

T Is newes Laurinda that will ravish you !

Laur. How , ravish mee ? if 't be such desperat newes I pray conceale it ▪ Dor.

So I will .

Lau. Nay Dorylas , Pray tell it though . Dor.

T is desperat newes ,

Laur.

But prithee doe .

Dor.

I must conceale it .

Laur.

Doe not .

Dor.

Mistresse , you have prevail'd : I will relate it .

Laur.

No matter though whether you doe or no.

Dor.

No ? then I will not tell you .

Laur. Yet I care not Much if I heare it . Dor. And I care not much Whether I tell 't or no. Laur.

What is it ?

Dor.

Nothing .

Laur.

Sweet Dorylas let me know .

Dor. What pretty weather-cocks These women are ? I serve a Mistresse here Fit to have made a Planet : shee le waxe and wane Twice in a minute . Laur. But good Dorylas Your newes . Dor.

Why excellent Newes !

Laur.

But what ?

Dor. Rare newes ! Newes fit , Laur.

For what ?

Dor. To be conceal'd : why Mistresse The Rivalls , those on whom this Powerfull face Doth play the tyra●…t . — Laur.

Dorylas what of them ?

Dor. Now , now shee wanes : O for a dainty Husband To make her a full Moone . The amorous couple ! Your brace of sweet hearts Damon and Alexis Desire your audience . Lau. Is this all your newes ? You may conceale it . Dor. Now you have heard it told I may conceale it ! well I thanke thee Nature Thou didst create mee Man , for I want wit Enough to make up woman : but good Mistresse What doe you think of Damon ? Laur. As a man Worthy the best of Nymphs : Dor.

What of Alexis ?

Laur. As one that may deserve the fairest Virgin In Sicilie . Dor.

What Virgin ?

Lau. Proserpine , Were shee yet Ceres daughter . Dor.

And what Damon ?

Lau.

Hee ? Ceres selfe , were she not yet a Mother :

Dor. Creet , Creet ! There is no Labyrinth but a woman●… Laurinda , gentle Mistresse tell mee which Of these you love ? Lau.

Why Damon best of any .

Dor.

Why so , that 's well and plain .

Lau.

Except Alexis .

Dor.

Why then you love Alexis best ?

Lau.

Of any .

Dor.

I am glad on t .

Lvu.

But my Damon .

Dor. Be this true And I le be sworne Cupid is turn'd a jugler ? Praesto ! you love Alexis best but Damon , And Damon but Alexis ! Love you Damon ? Lau.

I doe .

Dor.

And not Alexis ?

Lau.

And Alexis .

Dor.

Shee would ha'both I thinke .

Laur.

Not I by Ceres .

Dor.

Then you love neither ?

Lau.

Yes , I doe love either .

Dor. Either , and yet not both , both best , yet neither ; Why doe you torture those with equall Racks , That both vow service to you ? If your love Have pre fer'd Damon , tell Alexis of it ; Or if Alexis , let poore Damon know it , That he which is refus'd , smothering his flame , May make another choice , now doubtfull hope Kindles desires in both . Lau. Ah Dorylas , Thy yeares are yet uncapable of love ! Thou hast not learn'd the mysteries of Cupid ! Dost thou not see through all Sicilia , From gentlest sheapheards to the meanest swaines , What inauspitious torches Hymen lights At every wedding ? what unfortunate hands Linke in the wedding ring ? Nothing but feares Iarres , discontents , suspicions , jealousies , These many yeares meet in the Bridall sheetes . Or if all these be missing , yet a Barrennesse , A curse as cruell , or Abortive births Are all the blessings crowne the Geniall bed ▪ Till the successe prove happier , and I finde A blessed change , i le temper my affection Conceale my flames , dissemble all my fires And spend those yeares I owe to Love and Beauty Only in choosing on whose love to fixe My Love and beauty . Dor. Rare Feminine wisdome : Will you admit 'em . Lau. Yes , goe call them hither . Yet doe not , now I thinke on 't : yet you may too ; And yet come back againe . Dor.

Nay I will goe .

Lau.

Why Dorylas .

Dor.

What newes ?

Lau.

Come back I say .

Dor.

Yes to be sent againe .

Lau.

You 'l stay I hope .

Dor.

Not I by Ceres .

Lau.

Dorylas .

Dor. No good Mistresse Farewell for I at length have learn'd to know You call me back only to bid mee goe . Exit . Lau. T is no great matter sirrah : — when they come I le beare my selfe so equall unto both , As both shall thinke I love him best , this way I keepe both fires alive , that when I please I may take which I please . — But who comes here ?
SCEN. 2. Laurinda . Thestylis .

O Thestylis y' are welcome !

Thest. If Laurinda , My too abrupt intrusion come so rudely As to disturbe your private Meditations , I beg your pardon ! Lau. How now Thestylis ? Grown Orator of late ? has learned Mopsus Read Rhetorique unto you , that you come To see me with Exordiums ? Thest. No Laurinda ; But if there be a charme call'd Rhetorique ; An art , that woods and forrests cannot skill ; That with persuasive magique could command A pitty in your soule , I would my tongue Had learn'd that powerfull art ! Lau. Why Thestylis , Thou know'st the brests I suck'd were neither wolves Nor Tygers , and I have a heart of waxe , Soft and soone melting ; try this amorous heart ; 't is not Of flint or marble . The. If it were , Laurinda , The teares of her , whose orator I come Have power to soften it . Beuteous Amaryllis , Shee that in this unfortunate age of love , This haplesse time of Cupids tyranny Plac'd her affection on a skornfull sheapheard , One that disdaines her love . Lau. Disdaines her love ! I tell thee Thestylis in my poore judgement , ( And women if no envy blind their eyes , Best judge of womens beauties ) Amaryllis May make a Bride worthy the proudest sheapheard In all Sicilia : but wherein can I Pitty this injur'd Nymph ? The. Thus she desires you , As you desire to thrive in him you love ; As you doe love him whom you most desire , Not to love Damon ! Damon alas repaies Her love with skorne ! T is a request she saies She knowes you cannot grant , but if you doe not Shee will not live to aske again . Lau. Poore Nymph . My Amaryllis knowes my fidelity ; How often have we sported on the Lawnes , And danc'd a roundelay to Iocastus pipe ? If I can doe her service Thestylis , Be sure I will : Good wench , I dare not stay Least I displease my Father ; who in this age Of haplesse lovers watches me as close As did the Dragon the Hesperian fruit . Farewell . Exit Laur. Thest. Farewell Laurinda ! Thus poore ●…oole I toyle for others ; like the painfull Bee From every flower cull hony drops of love To bring to others hives : Cupid does this Cause I am Claius sister . Other Nymphs Have their varietie of loves , for every gowne , Nay every petticote ; I have only one , The poore foole Mopsus ! yet no matter wench , Fooles never were in more request then now . I le make much of him , for that woman lyes In weary sheetes , whose Husband is too wise .
SCEN. 3. Thestylis . Mopsus . Iocastus . Mop. Iocastus , I love Thestylis abominably , The mouth of my affection waters at her . Io. Be wary Mopsus , learne of mee to skorne The mortalls ; choose a better match : goe love Some Fairy Lady ! Princely Oberon Shall stand thy friend : and beauteous Mab his Queene Give thee a Maid of Honour . Mop. How Iocastus ? Marry a puppet ? Wed a mote i th' Sunne ? Goe looke a wife in nutshells ? wooe a gnat That 's nothing but a voice ? No no , Iocastus , I must have flesh and blood , and will have Thestylis . A fig for Fairies ! Thes. — T is my sweet-heart Mopsus , And his wise brother : O the twins of folly ! These doe I entertaine only to season The poore Amyntas madnesse . Mop. Sacred red and white , How fares thy reverend beauty ? The. Very ill Since you were absent , Mopsus ! where have you Beene all this live-long houre ? Mop. I have been Discoursing with the birds . The.

Why , can birds speake ?

Io. In Fairy land they can : I have heard 'em chirpe Very good Greeke and Latin . Mop. And our Birds Talke better farre then they : a new-laid egge Of Sicilie shall out talke the bravest Parrat In Oberons , Vtopia . The. But what languages Doe they speake , servant ? Mop. Severall languages , As Cawation , Chirpation , Hootation . Whistleation , Crowation , Cackleation , Shreekation , Hissation . The.

And Fooleation .

Mop. No , that 's our language , we our selves speak that , That are the learned Augurs . The. What successe Does your Art promise ? Mop.

Very good .

The. What Birds Met you then first ? Mop.

A Wood-cock and a Goose.

The.

Well met .

Mop.

I told 'em so .

The.

And what might this portend ?

Mop. Why thus — and first the Wood-cock — Wood and Cock , Both very good signes . For first the wood doth signify The fire of our love shall never goeout , Because it has more fuell : wood doth signify Morefuell . The.

What the Cock ?

Mop. Better then t'other : That I shall crow ore those that are my rivalls , And roost my selfe with thee . The.

But now the Goose ?

Mop. I , I the Goose , that likes me best of all , Th' ast heard our gray-b●…ard sheapherds talk of Rome , And what the Geese did there : The Goose doth signify That I shall keep thy Capit●…ll . The.

Good gander !

Io.

— It cannot choose but strangely please his highnesse !

The.

What are you studying of Iocastus , ha ?

Io. A rare devise , a Masque to entertaine His Grace of Fairy with . The.

A Masque ? what i's t ?

Io. An Anti-masque of fleaes , which I have taught To dance Currantoes on a spiders thread . Mop. An Anti-masque of fleaes ? brother me thinkes A masque of Birds were better , that could dance The morrice in the aire , Wrens and Robin-redbrests , Linnets , and Titmise . Io. So ! and why not rather Your Geese & Wood-cocks ? Mortall hold thy tongue , Thou dost not know the mystery . The. T is true He tells you Mopsus , leave your Augurie , Follow his counsell , and be wise . Mop. Be wise ? I skorne the motion ! follow his counsell and be wise ? That 's a fine trick i'faith ! is this an age For to be wise in ? The. Then you mean I see , T' expound the Oracle . Mop. I doe mean to be Th' interpreter . Io. — And then a jig of Pismires Is excellent . Mop. What to interpret Oracles ? A foole must be th' interpreter . The. Then no doubt But you will have the honour . Mop. Nay I hope I am as faire for 't as another man . If I should now grow wise against my will , And catch this wisdome ! The.

Never feare it Mopsus .

Mop. T were dangerous ventring . Now I think on 't too Pray Heaven this aire be wholsome ! is there not An antidote against it ? what doe you think Of garlick every morning ? The. Fy upon 't , 'T will spoile our kissing ! and besides I tell you Garlick's a dangerous dish , eating of garlick May breed the sicknesse , for as I remember T is the Phylosophers dyet . Mop. Certainly I am infected , now the fit 's upon mee ! T is some thing like an ague , sure I caught it With talking with a Scholar next my heart . The.

How sad a life live I ,

Betwixt their folly and Amyntas madnesse ! For Mopsus I le prescribe you such a diet As shall secure you . Mop. Excellent she Doctor ! Your women are the best Physitians , And have the better practice . The. First my Mopsus , Take heed of fasting , for your hungry meales Nurse wisdome . Mop. True ! O what a stomach have I To be her patient ! The. Besides , take speciall care You weare not thred-bare clothes : 't will breed at least Suspicion you are wise . Io.

I marry will it .

The. And walke not much alone ; or if you walke With company , be sure you walke with fooles , None of the wise . Mop. No , no I warrant you , I le walke with no body but my brother here , Or you , or mad Amyntas . The. By all meanes Take heed of Travell , your beyond-sea wit Is to be feard . Mop.

If ere I travell hang mee .

Io.

Not to the Fairy land ?

The. Thither he may . But above all things we are no beards , long beards Are signes the braines are full , because the excrements Come out so plentifully . Io. Rather empty , Because they have sent so much out , as if Their brains were sunk into their beards : King Oberon Has ne're a beard , yet for his wit I am sure He might have beene a Gyant . Who comes here ? Enter Dorylas . Dor. All haile unto the fam'd interpreter Of fowles and Oracles ! Mop.

Thankes good Dorylas .

Dor. How fares the winged cattell ? are the woodcocks , The jayes , the dawes , the cuckoes , and the owles In health ? Mop.

I thank the gracious starres they are !

Dor. Like health unto the president of the jigs ; I hope King Oberon and his joyall Mab Are. well . Io. They are , I never saw their Graces Eate such a meale before . Dir.

E'ne much good doe 't em !

Io.

They 're rid a hunting .

Do.

Hare or Deere my Lord ?

Io.

Neither , a brace of snailes of the first head .

The. But Dorylas , there 's a mighty quarrell here , And you are chosen umpire . Dor.

About what ?

The. The exposition of the Oracle : Which of these two you think the verier foole . Dor. It is a difficult cause , first let me pose'em ! You Mopsus , cause you are a learned Augur , How many are the seven Liberall Sciences ? Mop.

Why much about a dozen .

Dor. You Iocastus , When Oberon shav'd himselfe , who was his Barber ? Io. I knew him well , a little dapper youth , They call him Periwinckle . Dor. Thestylis , A weighty cause and askes a longer time . The.

Wee 'll in the while to comfort sad Amyntas .

Exeunt The. Mop. Io ,
SCEN. 4. Dorylas . Laurinda . Lau. I wonder much that Dorylas staies so long , Faine would I heare whether they 'l come or no. Do.

Ha ? would you so ?

Lau. I see in your own messages You can goe fast enough . Dor. Indeed forsooth , I loiter'd by the way . Lau.

What , will they come ?

Dor.

Which of them ?

Lau.

Damon ?

Dor.

No.

Lau.

Alexis will ?

Dor.

Nor he .

Lau.

How , neither ? am I then neglected ?

Dor.

Damon will come .

Lau.

And not Alexis too ?

Dor.

Only Alexis comes .

Lau. Let him not come . I wonder who sent for him , unlesse both I le speak with none . Dor.

Why both will visit you .

Lau. Both ? one had been too many . Was e're Nymp●… So vex'd as I ? you sawcy rascall you , How doe you strive to crosse me ? Dor. And sweet Mistresse , Still I will crosse you , 't is the only way Truely to please you .
SCENA 5. Enter Medorus . Medo . So , you 'l all please her , I wonder who 'l please mee ? you all for her Can run on errants , carry love-sick letters , And amorous eglogues from her howling suiters , To her , and back againe , be Cupids Heraulds , And point out meetings for her . Dor. Truly Sir , Not I , pray aske my Mistresse : Doe I call Your sweet-hearts — speak , nay speak it if you can , Doe I ? Lau.

Why no.

Do. Nay say your worst I care not , Did I goe ever ? Lau.

Never .

Dor. La-you now ! We were devising nothing but a snare To catch the Pole-cat , Sirrah get you in ; Take heed I doe not find your haunts . Dor.

What haunts ?

Med.

You 'l in !

Dor. I know no haunts I have but to the Dairy , To skimme the milke-bowles like a lickorish Fairy . Exit Dor. Me. He that 's a womans keeper , should have eyes A hundred more then Argus , and his eares Double the number : Now the newes , what letters ? What posy , ring or bracelet wooes to day ? What Grove to night is conscious of your whispers ? Come tell mee , for I know your trusty squire , Your litle closet blabbes into your eare Some secret , let me know it . Lau. Then you feare , Least I should be in love . Me. Indeed I doe , Cupids a dangerous boy , and often wounds The wanton roving eye . Lau. Were I in love , Not that I am ( for yet by Dian's bow I have not made my choice , ) and yet suppose it , Suppose I say I were in love , What then ? Me. So I would have thee , but not yet my Girle , Till loves prove happier , till the wretched Claius Hath satisfied the Gods . Lau.

Why Claius , Father ?

Me.

Hast thou not heard it ?

Lau.

Never .

Me.

T is impossible .

Lau. How should I sir ? you know that my discourse Is all with walls and pictures , I nere meet The Virgins on the downes . Me. Why I will tell thee , Thou knowest Pilumnus ? Lau.

The high Priest of Ceres ?

Me. Yes : This Pilumnus had a sonne Philaebus , Who was , while yet he was , the only joy The staffe and comfort of his fathers age , And might have still beene so , had not fond love Vndone him . Lau.

How did love undoe Philaebus ?

Me. Why thus ; one Lalage , a beauteous Nymph As ever eye admired , Alphestus daughter , Was by her father promis'd him in marriage . Lau.

Why hitherto his love had good successe .

Me. But only promis'd : for the sheapherd Claius , ( A name accursed in Sicilian fields ! ) Being rich , obtain'd the beauteous Lalage From sweet Philaebus : he sad heart being rob'd , Of all his comfort , having lost the beauty Which gave him life and motion ; seeing Claius Injoy those lips , whose cherries were the food That nurs'd his soule , spent all his time in sorrow , In melancholy sighes and discontents ; Look'd like a witherd tree oregrowne with mosse , His eyes were ever dropping Iceacles . Disdaine and sorrow made Pilumnus rage , And in this rage , he makes his moane to Ceres , ( Ceres most sacred of Sicilian powers ; ) And in those moanes he prosecutes revenge , And that revenge to fall on Lalage . Lau.

Would Ceres heare his praiers ?

Me. Silly maid , His passions were not causelesse ; and with what justice Could she deny Pilumnus ? how oft hath he sprinkled , The finest flowre of wheat , and sweetest myrrhe Vpon her Altars ! Lalage ru'd the time She flowted brave Philaebus . Now she was great With two sweet twins , the faire chast Amaryllis , And mad Amyntas ; ( an unlucky paire ! ) These shee brought forth , but never liv'd to see them : Lucina caus'd her sorrowes stop her breath . Leaving this matchlesse paire of beauteous infants , In whom till now she lives . Lau. After her death , How far'd the sorrowfull Philaebus ? Me. Worse Then ever : Shee being dead whose life was his , Whose lookes did hold his eyes from shutting up , He pin'd away in sorrowes , griefe it was To see she was not his , but greater farre That she was not at all . Her Exequies being past , He casts him down upon that turfe of earth , Vnder whose roofe his Lalage was hous'd , And parlied with her ashes , 'till his own lampe Was quite extinguish'd with a fatall dampe . Here ended th' noble sheapheard . Lau. Vnhappy lover ! T is pitty but the Virgins once a yeare , Should wash his tombe with maiden teares ! but now Both Lalage being dead and her Philebus , How comes it other loves should prove unfortunate ? Med. Pilumnus having lost this hopefull Sonne , Though he had two more children , fair Vrania And noble Damon ; yet the death of Lalage Suffic'd not his revenge , but he a new implores His goddesse wrath 'gainst Claius : — Doth Ceres prize me thus ? Shall Claius tread upon the flowry Plaine , And walke upon the Ashes of my boy ? Will I be Archyflamen where the Gods Are so remisse ? let wolves approach their shrines ; Their howlings are as powerfull as the Praiers Of sad Pilumnus ! — Such disgusts at last Awaken'd Ceres : with hollow murmuring noise Her Ompha like a thunder'gins to roare . ( The Ompha if it menace speakes at large In copious language , but perplexed termes . ) And laid this curse on all Trinacria . Sicilian swaines , ill luck shall long betide To every bridegroome , and to every bride : No sacrifice , no vow shall still mine Ire , Till Claius blood both quench and kindle fire . The wise shall misconceive me , and the wit Scornd , and neglected shall my meaning hit . Lau. Angry and Intricate ! Alas for love ! What then became of Claius ? Me. Why the Ompha , Having denounc'd against him , and he knowing The hate of old Pilumnus fled away , I think hee 's sayl'd to the Antipodes . No tydings can be brought what ground receives him , Vnlesse Corymbus make a happy voyage ; Corymbus that will search both East and Occident And when he finds him spill his captive blood . Which Ceres grant he may ! Tender Laurinda Now dost thou see the reason of my care , And why my watchfull eyes so close observe Thy steps and actions . Lau. And I promise , father , To temper my affections , 'till the Goddesse Doe mitigate her anger . Med. Doe so then : For now you see with what unfortunate choice Pilumnus daughter , delicate Vrania loves The mad Amyntas : for the angry Goddesse , Though she repaid the wrong done to Philaebus , Yet not approving the reuengefull mind Of great Pilumnus , scourg'd him with his own asking , By threatning an unhappy marriage To his Vrania , unlesse he that wooes her Pay an impossible Dowry ; for as others Give Portions with their daughters , Ceres Priests Vse to receive for theirs . The words are these , That which thou hast not , mayst not , canst not have Amyntas , is the Dowry that I crave ▪ Rest hopelesse in thy love , or else divine To give Vrania this , and she is thine : Which while the poore Amyntas would Interpret , He lost his wits . Take heed of love , Laurinda , You see th' unhappinesse of it in others ; Let not experience in thy selfe instruct thee . Be wise my Girle : so come and follow me . Exit . Lau. I 'le make a Garland for my kid and follow you . What a sad tale was here ? how full of sorrow ? Happy that heart that never felt the shaft Of angry Cupid !
SCEN. 6. Damon Alexis . — Damon and Alexis ? Their presence quickly puts these cogitations Out of my mind : Poore soules , I fain would pity them , And yet I cannot , for to pity one Were not to pity t'other , and to pity Both were to pity neither . Mine old Temper Is all the shift I have ; some dew of comfort To either of them . How now bold intruders , How dare you venter on my privacy ? If you must needs have this walk , be it so ! I 'le seeke another : What ? you 'l let me goe ? Da. Cruell Laurinda ( if a word so foule Can have so faire a dwelling . ) seale not up Thy eates , but let a pity enter there And find a passage to thy heart . Alex. Laurinda , ( The name which but to speak I would not wish For life or breath . ) Let not thy powerfull beauty Torment us longer : Tell us which of us You value most . Da. And t'other , for old freindship Strangling his bitter Corrasive in his heart , Hath promis'd to desist from further suit . Alex. Or if he cannot so , as sure he cannot , Yet he will rather chuse to dye then live Once to oppose your liking . Lau. Since you are Growne so importunate , and will not be answer'd With modest silence ; Know I wish you well . Alex.

How , me Laurinda ?

Lau. Why I wish , Alexis , I were thy wife . Da.

Then most unhappy me !

Alex.

That word doth relish immortalitie .

Lau.

And I doe wish thou wer 't my husband , Damon

Alex.

Still more perplexed : what doe you think I am ?

Lau.

My head , Alexis .

Da.

And what I ?

Lau.

My heart .

Da.

Which hand am I ?

Lau.

Damon , my right .

Alex.

Which I ?

Lau.

My left , Alexis .

Alex.

Thus you scorne my love .

Lau.

Not I , Alexis : th' art my only hope .

Da.

Then I am all despaire , no hope for me .

Lau. Why so my Damon ? thou art my desire . Alexis is my flame ; Damon my fire . Alexis doth deserve my nuptiall Bed , And Damon's worthy of my Maidenhead ! Exit Lau. Alex. Damon , desist thy suit or loose thy life ; Thou heard'st Laurinda wish she were my wife . Da. Thy wife , Alexis ? But how can it be Without a Husband ? and I must be he . Alex. I am her head : That word doth seeme t' impart She meanes my marriage . Da. How without her heart ? For that am I : besides you heard her say I was the right hand you the left , away , Desist Alexis , mine 's the upper hand . Alex. But , Damon , I next to her heart doe stand : I am her hope , in that you plainly see The end of her intents doth aime at me . Da. But I am her desire , in that 't is showne Her only wish is to make me her owne . Alex.

I am her flame .

Da.

'T is true , but I her fire .

Alex. The flames the hotter , therefore her desire Most aimes at mee . Da. Yet when the flame is spent , The fire continues ; Therefore me she meant . Alex.

She promis'd now I should injoy her Bed .

Da.

Alexis doe , so I her Maidenhead .

Alex. I see she still conceales it , and with speeches Perplext and doubfull masks her secret thoughts . Da. Let 's have another meeting , since her words Delude us thus , wee 'le haue a pregnant signe To shew her mind . Alex. I goe that way a hunting , And will call for her . Da. I 'le the while retire Into the Temple , if I linger here I am afraid of meeting Amaryllis , Who with unwelcome love solicites me . Alex.

And would she might preuaile !

Da.

Till then farewell .

Alex. All happinesse to Damon be Except Laurinda . Da.

All but her to thee .

Alex.

Thus we in love and courtesie contend .

Da.

The name of Rivall should not loose the Freind .

Exeunt .
Finis actus I.
ACTVS 2.
SCEN 1. Pilumnus Vrania . Vra. FAther perswade me not ! The power of heaven Can never force me from Amyntas love ; 'T is rooted here so deepe within my heart That he which pulls it out , pulls out at once , That and my soule together . Pil. Fond Vrania , Can ignorant love make thee affect the seede , The hatefull seede of cursed Lalage ? Did I for this beget thee ? Vra. Father , you know Divinitie is powerfull , Cupids will Must not be question'd : When love meanes to sport ( I' have heard your selfe relate it ) he can make The Wolfe and Lambe kisse friendly ; force the Lyon T'forget his Majestie , and in amorous dalliance Sport with the frisking Kid. When Venus rides , Shee 'le linke the ravenous Kite , and milder Swan To the same chariot , and will yoak together The necks of Doves and Eagles ; when as shee Commands , all things loose their Antipathie , Even contrarieties : can I alone Resist her will ? I cannot , my Amynt as Shall witnesse that ! Pil. I blame thee not so much For loving him , while yet he was Amynt as . But being mad and having lost himselfe , Why shouldst not thou loose thy affection too ▪ Vra. I love him now the rather ; he hath lost Himselfe for me , and should he loose me too ? It were a sinne he should ! Pil. What canst thou love In his distemper'd wildnesse ? Vra. Only that , His wildnesse ; 't is the comfort I have left To make my teares keepe time to his distractions ; To think as wildl●… as he talks ; to marry Our griefs together , since our selves we cannot . The Oracle doth aske so strange a Dowry , That now his company is the only blisse My love can aime at : but I stay too long I 'le in to comfort him . Pil.

Doe not Vrania .

Vra. Doe not ? I must and will ; Nature commands me no , But Love more powerfull sayes it shall be so . Exit . Pil. The Gods did well to make their Destinies Of woemen , that their wills might stand for law Fixt and unchang'd ; who 's this ? Corymbus ? he .
SCEN. 2. Pilumnus . Corymbus . Pil.

Corymbus — welcome !

Cor. Sacred Pilumnus — hayle ! And fruitfull Sicilie I kisse thy dust — Pil. What newes Corymbus ? Is our Countrie 's Mischeif Fetter'd in chaines ? Cor. Thrice the sunne hath past Through the twelve Inns of heaven , since my diligence Has been imploy'd in quest of him , whose death Must give poore lovers life , the hatefull Claius ; Yet could I ne're heare of him : — The meane while How fare the poore Sicilians ? Does awfull Ceres Still bend her angry brow ? Find the sad Lovers No rest , no quiet yet ? Pil. Corymbus none ! The Goddesse has not yet deign'd to accept One sacrifice , no favourable Echo Resounded from her Omp●…a ; All her answers Are full , and doubtfull . Cor. The true signe , Pilumnus , Her wrath is not appeas'd . Pil. Appeas'd say you ? Rather againe incens'd so farre , Corymbus , As that my selfe am plagu'd ; My poore Vrania Dotes on Amyntas . Cor. First shall our hives swarme in the venemous yew , And Goats shall browze upon our myrtle wands ! — One of your blood , Pilumnus , ( is it possible ) Love Lalage and Claius brood ? Pil. The chaine of fate Will have it so ! And he lov'd her as much . Cor.

That makes it something better .

Pil. Ah , thou knowest not What sting this waspish fortune pricks me with ! I seeing their loves so constant , so inflexible , Chid with dame Ceres if sheus'd me thus . My words were inconsiderate , and the heavens Punish'd my rough expostulations : Being Archiflamen of Trinacria I did demand a Dowry of that sheapheard That askes my daughter : — Set the price said I , Thou Goddesse , that dost cause such hatefull loves ; If that Amyntas be thy darling swaine , Aske thou , and set a Dowry for Vrania : With that the Altar groan'd , my haire grew stiffe , Amyntas look'd agast ; Vrania quiver'd , And the Ompha answer'd Cor.

With an Echo ;

Pil.

No.

Co.

Then I presage some ill !

Pi. This darke demand , That which thou hast not , maist not , canst not have , Amyntas , is the dowry that I crave : Rest hopelesse in thy love , or else divine To give Vrania this and she is thine . And so he did , but the perplexed sense Troubled his braines so farre , he lost his wits ; Yet still he loves , and shee , — my griefe Corymbus Will not permit me to relate rest ! I 'le in into the Temple , and expresse What 's yet behinde in teares . Exit . Corym . Sad sad Pilumnus ! And most distress'd Sicilians ! Other nations Are happy in their loves , you only are unfortunate ! In all my travelles ne'r a spring but had Her paire of lovers , singing to that musique The gentle bubling of her waters made . Never a walke unstor'd with amorous couples , Twind with so close imbraces , as if both Me ant to growe one together ! every shade Sheltred some happy loves , that counting dazies Scor'd up the summes on one another lips , That met so oft and close , as if they had Chang'd soules at every kisse . The married sort As sweet and kind as they : at every evening The loving husband and full ▪ brested wife Walk'd on the Downs so friendly , as if that Had been their wedding day . The boies of five , And girles of foure , e're that their lisping tongues Had learn'd to prattle plaine , would prate of love , Court one another , and in wanton dalliance Returne such innocent kisses , you 'd have thought You had seene Tur les billing .
SCEN. 3. Mopsus . Corymbus . Mop. What aire is that ? The voice of — Turtles billing ! Of Turtles ! a good Omen ! shee is chast — And billing , billing , o delicious billing ! That word presages kissing . — Co. Who is this ? Mopsus , my learned Augur ? Mop. Stand aside , — The other side ; I will not talke to thee Vnlesse I have the winde . Co.

Why , what s the matter Mopsus ?

Mop.

Th' art infected ;

Co.

What with the Plague ?

Mop. Worse then the Plague , the Wisdom ! You have been in travell , & that 's dangerous For getting Wisdome . Co. Then nere feare it , Mopsus , For I come home a foole just as I went . Mop.

By Ceres ?

Co.

Yes .

Mop.

By Ceres welcome then !

Co. But Mopsus , why doe you walke here alone ! That 's — dangerous too ! Mop. I : but I come to meet The Cittizens of the aire ; you have heard my skill In augury ? Co. Why I have heard your name Not mention'd any where in all my Travailes . Mop.

How ? not mention'd ?

Co. — Yo' are to hasty Mopsus , Not — without admiration . Mop.

I know that .

Co.

How should you know it ?

Mop. Why some birds or other , Fly from all countries hither , and they tell mee . Co.

But how dare you converse with birds that travell ?

Mop. With an antidote I may : but my Corymbus What strange birds have you seene beyond seas ? Cor. Brave ones : Ladies with fans and feathers ! dainty Fowles ! There were brave taking Augury . Mop. But , Corymbus , Are those fine Lady-birds such pretty things ? Co.

As tame as sparrowes , and as sweet as Nightingals .

Mop. Is the Cocklady-bird , or the Henlady-bird The better ? Co.

All are hens .

Mop. O admirable ! Would you had brought me one ! but what s the Fan ? Co.

A fan's a — wing of one side .

Mop. Delicate ! And what 's their Feather ? Co. Like the copple-crowne The Lap-wing has : Mop.

The Lap-wing ? then they ' l — ly .

Co.

With men they will ;

Mop. Delicious Lady-birds ! But have they such brave traines , such curious tailes As our birds have ? Co. Like Peacocks , there 's the head Of all their pride . Mop. Nay 't is the taile , Corymbus , Surely these things you call the Lady-birds Are the true birds of Paradice ! Enter Corymbus's carriages . Co. Very right — Mopsus , I cannot stay , I must attend My carriage to the Temple : gentle Mopsus Farewell ! Exit . Mop. Farewell Corymbus ! By my troth I never long'd for any thing in my life So much as Lady-birds ; dainty Lady-birds ! I would fetch one of them ; but I dare not travell For fear I catch the wisdome . O sweet Lady-birds ! With copple crownes , and wings but on one side ! And tailes like Peacocks ! curious Lady-birds !
SCEN. 4. Amyntas . Vrania . Amaryllis . manet Mopsus . Amyn. That which I have not , may not , cannot have ! — It is the moone ! Vrania , thou shalt weare The horned Goddesse at thy beauteous eare . — Come hither Pegasus , I will mount thy back , And spurre thee to her orbe . Mop.

Oh good Amyntas !

Amyn. — Why , art thou foundred Pegasus ? Amaryllis , Fetch him a peck of provender . Vra.

Sweet Amyntas !

Amy. What saies my Cytherea ? wouldst thou eat A golden Apple ? if thou wilt , by Venus I 'le rob th' Hesperian Orchard . Mop.

Ha ha he !

Amyn. Ha ? dost thou laugh old Charon ? firrah sculler , Prepare thy boat ! Ama.

For what ? deere brother speake !

Amyn. Art thou my sister Helen ? were we hatchd In the same egshell ? — Is your cock-boat ready ? Mop.

It is , an 't please your Worship .

Amyn. Very well ! Row me to hell ! — no faster ? I will have thee Chain'd unto Pluto's gallies ! Vra. Why to hell , My deere Amyntas ? Amy.

Why ? to borrow mony !

Ama.

Borrow there ?

Amy. I there ! they say there be more Vsurers there Then all the world besides : — see how the windes Rise ! Puffe — puffe Boreas . — what a cloud comes yonder ? Take heed of that wave Charon ! ha ? give mee The oares ! — so so : the boat is overthrown , Now Charons drown'd : but I will swim to shore — Vra. O Ceres , now behold him ! canthy eyes Looke on so sad an object , and not melt Them and thy heart to pitty ? Ama. How this greefe Racks my tormented soule ? but the neglect Of Damon more afflicts mee : the whole Senate Of heaven decrees my ruine . Vra. And mine too . Come Amaryllis let 's weepe both together , Contending in our sorrowes ! Ama. Would to Ceres That I were dead ! Vra.

And I had nere been borne !

Ama.

Then had not I been wretched !

Vra. Then Amyntas Might have been happy . Mop. Nay if you begin Once to talke wisely , 'T is above high time , That I were gone : farewell Bellerophon ! I must goe seek my Thestylis ; shee 's not here . Exit . Amy. My armes are weary ; — now I sinke I sinke ! Farewell Vrania . — Ama. Alas what strange distraction , Tosse his distemperd braine ! Vra. Yet still his love to me Lives constant . Amy. Styx I thank thee ! That curld wave Hath tos'd mee on the shore . — come Sysiphus . I 'le rowle thy stone a while : mee thinkes this labour Doth looke like Love ! does it not so , Tysiphone ? Ama.

Mine is that restlesse toile .

Amy. I's t so , Erynnis ? You are an idle huswife , goe and spin At poore Ixions wheele ! Vra.

Amyntas .

Amyn. Ha ? Am I known here ? Vra.

Amyntas , deere Amyntas —

Amyn. Who calls Amyntas ? beauteous Proserpine ? T is shee . — Fair Empresse of th' Elysian shades , Ceres bright daughter intercede for mee , To thy incensed mother : prithee bid her Leave talking riddles , wilt thou ? Vra. How shall I Apply my selfe to his wild passions ! Ama. Seeme to be What he conceives you . Amy. Queene of darknesse , Thousupreme Lady of eternall night , Grant my petitions ! wilt thou beg of Ceres That I may have Vrania ? Vra. T is my praier , And shall be ever , I will promise thee Shee shall have none but him . Amyn.

Thankes Proserpine !

Vra. Come sweet Amyntas , rest thy troubled head Here in my lap : — Now here I hold at once My sorrow and my comfort : Nay ly still . Amyn.

I will : but Proserpine —

Vra.

Nay , good Amyntas . —

Amy. Should Pluto chance to spy me , would not hee Be jealous of me ? Vran.

No.

Amy. Tysiphone , Tell not Vrania of it , least she feare I am in love with Proserpine : doe not Fury ! Ama.

I will not .

Vra.

Pray ly still !

Amy. You Proserpine , There is in Sicilie the fairest Virgin That everblest the land , that ever breath'd , Sweeter then Zephyrus ! didst thou never heare Of one Vrania ? Vr.

Yes .

Amy. This poore Vrania Loves an unfortunate sheapheard , one that 's mad , Tysiphone , Canst thou believe it ? Elegant Vrania ( I cannot speak it without teares ) still loves Amyntas , the distracted mad Amyntas . I's t not a constant Nymph ? — But I will goe And carry all Elysium on my back , And that shall be her joynture . Vra. Good Amyntas , Rest here a while ! — Amy.

Why weepe you Proserpine ?

Vr. Because Vrania weepes to see Amyntas So restlesse and unquiet . Amy. Does shee so ? Then will I ly as calme as doth the sea , When all the winds are lock'd in Aeolus jayle : I will not move a haire , not let a nerve Or Pulse to beat , least I disturbe her ! Hush , — Shee sleepes ! Vra.

And so doe you .

Amy. You talk too loud , You 'l waken my Vrania : Vra. If Amyntas , Her deere Amyntas would but take his rest , Vrania could not want it . Amy.

Not so loud !

Ama.

What a sad paire are wee ?

Vra. How miserable ? Hee that I love is not ! — Ama. And he that I Doe love , loves not ; or , if he love , not mee . Vra.

I have undone Amyntas !

Ama. And my Damon Has undone me . Vr.

My kindnesse ruin'd him .

Ama.

But his unkindnesse , me ; unhappy me !

Vra. More wretched I , for Damon has his reason , And he may love . Ama. But does not : thy Amyntas Returnes thee mutuall love . Vra. True , Amaryllis , But he has lost his reason ; mine has love , No reason . Ama. Mine has reason , but no love . O mee ! Vra. My Amaryllis , how thy griefes Meete full with mine to make the truest story Of perfect sorrow that ere eye bedew'd With teares of Pitty ! Ama. Come Vrania : Let 's sit together like two marble monuments Of ever weeping misery — Enter Damon . Da. Minds in love , Doe count their daies by minutes , measure howres By every sand that drops through the slow glasse ; And for each vie a teare . Ama. If so , my Damon , How many times hath thy unkindnesse ruin'd Sad Amaryllis ? every frowne is mortall . Dam.

Ill luck , to seeke my love and finde my hate !

Ama. Be not so cruell to mee ! Gentle Damon , — Accept this witnesse of my love , it is The story of poore Ech●… , tha●… for love Of her Narcissus pin'd into a voice . Da.

Doe thou so too !

Ama. Damon , suppose I should , And then the Gods for thy contempt of mee Should plague thee like Narcissus . Da. Amaryllis , They cannot doe it : I have fixt my love So firme on my Laurinda , that for her I e're shall hate my selfe ? Ama. — . Prithee love accept it , 'T was wrought by mine own hand Da.

For that I hate it !

Vra. Fy Brother , can you be of the same stock , Issue , and bloud with mee , and yet so cruell ? Da. Nor can I , sister , dote like you on any That is the cursed brat of Lalage . Amy.

Saist thou so Centaure ? —

Vra. Good Amyntas hold , This is the Sacred Vally : here 't is death , For to shed human blood . Da. Still idly you complaine To crosse mee , Amaryllis , but in vaine ! Exit . Ama.

O , I am sick to death !

Amy. What a brave show The monsters braines would make ?
SCEN. 5. Thestylis . Mopsus . Amyntas . Amaryllis . Vrania . Ama.

My griefe o're weighs me !

The.

How fares my Amaryllis ?

Ama. Like a Taper Allmost burnt out : sometimes all a darknesse , And now and then a flash or two of comfort , But soone blown out againe . Ah Thestylis , I cannot long subsist . For thee vain 's labour ; Away ! I hate thee cause my Damon does , And for that reason too I hate my selfe , And every thing but him ! Vra. Come my sad partner , Poore rivall of my sorrowes : Goe with mee Into the Temple ; I 'le intreat my Brother To use thee kindly : if in mee it lye , I 'le helpe thee . Ama.

Doe Vrania , or I dye .

Exeunt Vrania , Amaryl . Amyntas . Thestylis . Mopsus . The.

What a strange thing is Love !

Amy. It is a madnesse : See how it stares ? — Have at thee thou blind Archer ! — O I have mist him ! — now I 'le stand thee Cupid ! Looke how the rascall winkes a one eye , Thestylis ! Nay draw your arrow home boy ! just i' th heart ! — O I am slaine ! Thest.

Amyntas .

Amy. Dost not see ? My blood runs round about mee , I lye soaking In a red Sea , take heed ! see Thestylis , Whata fine Crimson ' t is ? Mop.

Where ?

Amy. Here you puppet ! Dost thou not see it ? Mop. Yes I see it playne , But I spy nothing . Amy.

Then thou art a mole .

Mop. Now I looke better on 't , I see it plaine ; Does it not not hurt you ? Amy. Strangely ! Have at thee — How think you now ? The.

Be quiet good Amyntas .

Mop. You 'l fright away the birds else , and clean spoile My augury . Amyn ,

Goe about it , I am quiet !

Mop.

Now for some happy Omen !

a Cuckoe Cries . Amy.

Ha , ha , he !

Mop.

Why laughs the madman ?

Amy. Who can choose but laugh ? The bird cried Hornes ! The. What happinesse portends it , Sweet Mopsus ? Mop. Constancy in Love , my Thestylis , This bird is alwaies in a note . The.

Most excellent .

Mop.

Bird of the spring I thank thee ! Mopsus thanks thee .

Amy. This is a man of skill , an Oedipus , Apollo , Reverent Phoebus , Don of Delphos . Mop.

What a brave man am I ?

Amy. Thou canst resolve By thy great Art all questions : What is that , That which I have not , may not , cannot have ? Mop. That which you have not , may not , cannot have ? It is my skill , you cannot have my skill . Amy.

Where lies that skill ?

Mop.

Lies ? here within this noddle .

Amy. Fetch me my wood-knife I will cut it off , And send it to Vrania for a dowry . Mop.

No , no I am deceiv'd , it is not that .

Amy.

You dolt , you asse , you cuckoe :

Mop.

Good Amyntas .

SCEN. 6. Dorylas .

Mopsus . Iocastus . Thestylis . Amyntas .

Io. Is t not a brave sight Dorylas ? can the mortalls Caper so nimbly ! Dor.

Verily they cannot !

Io. Does not King Oberon beare a stately presence ? Mab is a beauteous Empresse . Do. Yet you kiss'd her With admirable courtship . Io. I doe think There will be of Iocastus brood in Fairy . Mop. You Cuckold-maker , I will tell King Oberon You lye with Mab his wife ! Io. Doe not good brother , And I 'le wooe Thestylis for thee . Mop.

Doe so then .

Io.

Canst thou love Mopsus , mortall ?

The. Why suppose I can sir , what of that ? Io. Why then be wise , And love him quickly ! Mop. Wise ? then I 'le have none of her , that 's the way To get wise children , 'troth and I had rather They should be bastards . Amy. No , the children may Be like the Father . Io. True distracted Mortall : Thestylis , I say love him hee 's a foole . Dor.

But we will make him rich , then 't is no matter .

The.

But what estate shall he assure upon mee ?

Io.

A Royall joynture all in Fairy land .

Amy.

Such will I make Vrania !

Io. Dorylas knowes it , A curious Parke . Do.

Pal'd round about with Pick-teeth .

Io. Besides a house made all of mother of Pearle ; An Ivory Teniscourt . Dor.

A nutmeg Parlour .

Io.

A Saphyre dary-roome .

Do.

A Ginger hall .

Io.

Chambers of Agate .

Do.

Kitchins all of Christall .

Am.

O admirable ! This is it for certaine !

Io.

The jacks are gold .

Do.

The spits are Spanish needles .

Io.

Then there be walkes

Do.

Of Amber .

Io.

Curious orchards .

Do.

That bear as well in winter as in summer .

Io.

Bove all the fishponds ! every pond is full ,

Do. Of Nectar : will this please you ? every grove Stor'd with delighfull birds . Mop. But be there any Lady-birds there . Io.

Abundance .

Mop. And Cuckoes too To presage constancy ? Do.

Yes .

The. Nay then le ts in To seale the writings . Amy.

There boy , so , ho , ho.

Exeunt . Do. What pretty things are these both to be borne To Lands and Livings , we poore witty knaves , Have no inheritance but Braines : — who 's this ? Enter Alexis .

— One of my Mistresse beagles .

Ale . Dorylas , I have had the bravest sport . Do.

In what , Alexis ?

Al. In hunting , Dorylas : a brace of Grayhounds cours'd a stag With equall swiftnesse till the wearied deere , Stood bay at both alike : the fearfull doggs Durst neither fasten . Do. So , and did not you Compare the stag to my fair mistresse ? ha ! Pursued by you and Damon , caught by neither ? Ale .

By Cupid th' art i' th right .

Dor. Alas poore whelpes , In troth I pitty you ! Why such a hunting Have we had here : Two puppies of a litter , Mopsus and wise Iocastus hunting folly With a full mouth . Alex. I much wonder , Dorylas , Amyntas can be sad , having such follies To provoke mirth . Do. And to that end his sister Keepes them about him ; but in vaine , his Melancholy Has took so deepe impression . Enter Damon . Da. My Alexis Well met , I 'ave been at your cottage to seeke you . Alex. But I am ne're at home ; Thou and I , Damon , Are absent from our selves . Do. Excellent application ! To see the wit of love ! Da. Let us goe seeke her , To have a finall judgement . Alex. That may end One of our miseries , and the others life ! Do.

O lamentable ! who would be in love ?

Da.

Content .

SCEN. 7. Laurinda . Dorylas . Alexis . Damon . Da.

Here comes my joy or death .

Do.

O pittifull !

Al.

My sweet affliction .

Do. Pittifully sweet ! Nere feare your father , Mistresse , kisse securely , I 'le be your Mercury , and charme a sleepe Old Argus . Lau.

Doe .

Do. But if he chance to spy You and your sweet-hearts here , I know not of it . Lau.

You doe not !

Do. Nay you know if I had seene them , I should have told him . Lau.

Y' are a trusty servant .

Do. Poore Dorylas is blind , he sees not here Damon , no nor Alexis . Lau.

No not hee !

Do. Alack I am innocent : if the belly swell I did not fetch the poyson . Lau.

No , begone .

Exit Dorylas . Da. Laurinda now for mercy sake give period To our long miseries . Alex. Now you are like cruell To both , and play the tyrant equally , On him you hate as much as him you love . Da.

Depriving one the comfort of his joy .

Ale .

The other the sure remedy of his death !

Lau. Damon you have a Love , fair Amaryllis , Content your selfe with her . Da. I 'le rather kisse An Ethiops crisped lip : imbrace a Viper ! Deformity it selfe to her is fair . Al.

Damon thou hast thy answer .

Lau. And Alexis , There be in Sicilie many Virgins more Worthy your choice : why did you plac't on mee ? Goe seeke some other . Alex. O those words to me Are Poyson . Da.

But to me an Antidote .

Al.

Thus she gave life to me to tak 't away :

Da.

And me she slew to raise me up againe :

You shall not slight us thus , what doe you thinke Of mee ? Lau.

Thou art the glory of the woods .

Alex.

And what am I ?

Lau.

The pride of all the Plaines .

Ale . These your ambiguous termes have now too oft Deluded us . Da. Shew by some signe which of us You have design'd for happinesse . Lau.

So I will .

Shee takes Damon's Garland and weares it on her own head : and puts her own on Alexis . Damon , as I affect thee , so I vow To wear this Garland that adornes thy brow . This wreath of flowres , Alexis , which was mine Because thou lov'st me truly , shall be thine . This is plain dealing ; let not Cupid's warres Drive your affections to uncivill jarres ! Exit .

Exit .

Da. Now happy Damon shee thy Garland weares That holds thy heart chain'd in her golden haires ! Alex. Most blessed I ! this Garland once did twine About her head that now imbraces mine . Dam. Desist Alexis , for shee deignes to have The Garland that was mine . Alex. But me she gave That which was hers . Da.

T is more to take then give .

Alex.

I think 't is greater kindnesse to receive .

Da.

By this your share 's the lesse , you but receive .

Al. And by your argument , yours you did but give ▪ Love is the Garland . Da. Then shee did approve Of my affection best , shee took my love . Ale . Fond Damon , she accepted love from thee , But what is more , she gave her love to mee ; In giving that to mee , she proves my right . Do.

Why took she mine , but meaning to requite ?

Alex.

I will dispute no more .

Da. Then let our speares Plead for us , Alex. And determine of our feares . Come Damon , by this argument let us prove , Which t is of us Laurinda best doth love . Da.

Yet t is , Alexis , clean against our oath .

Ale .

True , Damon , and perchance may ruine both ▪

Da.

So neither shall enjoy her .

Ale . Cruell breath ! Besides this is the Sacred Vale , t is death To staine the hallowed grasse but with one drop Of humane blood . Da.

So both should loose their hope !

Ale .

And which is more , 't is against her commands .

Da.

Whose every breath has powre to stay our hands .

Ale .

Wee 'l have her answer make a certain end .

Da.

Till then , Alexis , let me be thy friend .

Ale .

Come Damon , le ts together seeke reliefe .

Da.

T is fit , being Rivalls both in love and griefe .

Finis Actus secundi .
ACTVS 3.
SCEN 1. Damon . Alexis . Laurinda . Dam. LAurinda , by thy selfe , the sweetest oath That can be sworn , Ale . By those faire eyes , whose light Comfort my soule ; Dam.

Whose heat inflameth mine ;

Ale .

Vnlesse you deigne at length to end our strife ,

Da.

We both have vow'd to sacrifice our life ,

Ale .

On one anothers speare .

Lau. What shall I doe ? I find an equall warre within my soule , My selfe divided ; now I would say Damon , Another time Alexis , then againe Damon , and then Alexis : like a sheapheard That sees on either hand a ravenous wolfe , One snatching from his ewe a tender Lamb , The other watching for a gentle Kid , Knowes not poore soule which hand to turne to first . Now he would save his Lamb ; but seeing his Kid Halfe in the jaw of death , turnes back in hast To reseue that , where viewing then his Lamb In greater danger , runs to that again ; As doubtfull which to save as which to loose : So fares it now with me . But love instruct mee ! Da.

Resolve .

Ale .

Or wee 'l resolve .

Lau.

No trick left yet ?

Enter Dorylas . Dor.

If ever one was pepper'd looke on mee !

Lau.

Why what s the matter ?

Do. You talke of Love and Cupid , I have been plagu'd with a whole swarme of Cupids . Ale .

what should this meane ?

Do. I know not , but I am sure I have a thousand naturall rapiers Stick in my flesh ! Da.

The meaning of the riddle ?

Ale .

The morall ?

Do. In plain tearmes I have been driving One of your swarmes of Bees , gentle Laurinda ; Lau. The purest waxe give Damon : and , good swaine , The hony to Alexis : This is plain . Do.

Now will the hony and the wax fall together by th' eares .

Da. Alexis , this plain signe confirmes her grant , She gave me waxe to seale the covenant . Do.

Well argu'd for the waxe , now for the hony .

Ale . To me she gave the hony , that must be The sweetest , and the sweetest sweet is shee . Do.

The hony is the sweeter argument .

Da. But by the waxe she saies that she from none But mee will take true loves impression . Do. The waxe is very forward to the bargain ; He would be sealing of her . Ale . But plain the hony speakes , no other guest But I , shall tast in her a lovers feast . Do.

Delicious reason , my mouth waters at it ▪

Dam. The waxe must make the Taper that must light The wedded paire to bed on Hymen's night : Besides 't is virgins waxe , by that you see To me she destinies her virginity . Do.

Two excellent twin-arguments borne at a birth .

Ale . And hony shewes a wedding ; that must knead A cake for Hymen ere we goe to bed . Take you the waxe ; the hony is for mee , There is no hony in the world but shee . Dor.

His disputation still has some good relish in 't .

Da. I see , Alexis , all Laurinda's bees Serve but to sting us both . Dor. Now , what 's the matter ? The morall ? Lau. See what 't is to live a maid ! Now two at once doe serve us and adore , Shee that weds one , serves him , serv'd her before . Da.

Alexis come !

Al.

Come Damon !

Da.

Cure my feare .

Al.

There 's no helpe left but in a Pelian speare !

Lau.

O stay your hands , for by my maidenhead ; —

Dor.

Happy the man shall quit her of that oath .

Ale .

Most happy Dorylas !

Do.

I knew that before !

Lau. I have protested never to disclose Which 't is that best I love : But the first Nymph , As soone as Titan guilds the Easterne hills , And chirping birds , the Saints-bell of the day , Ring in our eares a warning to devotion . That lucky damsell what so e're she be Shall be the Goddesse to appoint my love , To say , Laurinda this shall be your choice : And both shall sweare to stand to her award ! Both.

By fair Laurinda's hand we swear .

Lau. Till then Be friends , and for this night it is my pleasure You sleep like friendly Rivalls arme in arme . Both.

Thankes to the fair Laurinda !

Al.

Come Damon , you this night with me shall rest .

Da.

Wert thou but my Laurinda I were blest .

Exeunt Damon . Alexis . Dor.

Mistresse , if they should dreame now . —

Lau.

And they should ?

SCEN. 2. Amaryllis . Vrania . Doryllis . Laurinda . Vra.

Sweet Amaryllis !

Ama.

Stay me not Vrania !

Do.

More Cupids , more bees , more stinging yet !

Ama. Dishevel'd haire , poore ornament of the head I 'le teare you from my crowne ! what dost thou here ? Weake chaines ! my pride presum'd you had a powre To fetter Heroes ! and in amorous Gives Lead any sheapheard captive ! Vra.

Amaryllis .

Ama. But Damon breakes thee like a spiders loome ! And thou poore face that wer't so oft beli'de For fair and beauteous , by my flattering glasse ; I 'le teare those crimson roses from my cheekes , That but my selfe nere yet inchanted any . My will is fixt ! Lau.

Where goe you , Amaryllis ?

Ama. Since Damon hates my life I 'le goe and see If I can please him in my death : if hee 'le but deigne To kisse me , and accept my latest breath , I shall salute the Gods a happy soule . — This dart I 'le give him ; and upon my knees ▪ Beg till I have obtain'd to dye by him : Death from that hand is welcome . Lau. I will shew you A way most probable to redeeme his love . Ama. I shall wrong you , Laurinda ! No injoy him , The treasure of the Earth : my latest words Shall be praiers for you : mild Vrania , Sister in blood to Damon , not in affection , Nymph take this whistle , 't was a Tritons once , With which I call my Lamb-kins when they stray ; 'T is Amaryllis last bequeathment to you . Vra.

Live happy sheapheardesse and weare it still !

Ama. Laurinda , my great legacy is yours , Gentle-ungentle Damon . Lau. I re ▪ bequeath him to my Amarylis : Come therefore amorous maid , be rul'd by mee ; This night wee 'le sleepe together . Do. And shee too Should dreame of Damon . — Lau. Dorylas , goe to Thestylis ●… ▪ excuse her this nights absence , Amaryllis Wenches are nere so witty as a bed , And two together make a statesmans head . — Begon to Thestylis . Do. So , I am sure Still Cupids factor : well ere long I see There will be many an heire the more for mee . Vra. My Bellamore y' are under good protection ; The Temple gates will close unlesse I hast . Lau.

Vrania , a happy night unto you !

Vra.

The like to her that ipitties the distressed Amaryllis .

Exeunt Lau. Ama. Vrania . Dor. So so , this hony with the very thought Has made my mouth so lickorish that I must Have something to appease the appetite . Have at Iocastus orchard ! dainty Apples , How lovely they looke ! Why these are Dorylas sweet-hearts . Now must I be the Princely Oberon , And in a royall humour with the rest Of royall Fairies attendant goe in state To rob an orchard : I have hid my robes On purpose in a hollow tree . Heaven blesse mee ! What Pucke , what Goblins this ? Claius . Dorylas . Cla. Thrice Sacred Valley , I kisse thy hallowed Earth ! Do. Another lover , Enamour'd of the Ground ! Cl. Faine would I speake And aske for Amaryllis : but my feare Will not permit mee . Do. Slid ; I thinke he takes mee For Oberon already . Cl. Youth , can you tell mee How I may speak to night with Amaryllis ? Da. Age , by no meanes to night : this night shee lodges With fair Laurinda , old Medorus daughter . Cl.

Can you instruct me then how I may meet Amyntas ?

Do. Who , the madman ? Every evening He walkes abroad into the vallie here With Thestylis . Farewell old walking Ivibush . Exit Dor. Claius solus . Cla. I see the smoake steame from the Cottage tops , The fearfull hus wife rakes the embers up . All hush to bed . Sure no man will disturbe mee . O blessed vally ! I the wretched Claius Salute thy happy soyle , I that have liv'd Pelted with angry curses in a place As horrid as my griefes , the Lylibaean mountaines , These sixteene frozen winters , there have I Beene with rude out-lawes , living by such sinnes As runne o' th' score with justice 'gainst my prayers & wishes . And when I would have tumbled down a rock , Some secret powre restrain'd me : There I lately heard By a disconsolate Pilgrim that sought death , That my Amyntas wits ( ah me ! ) were marr'd . T was not a time to thinke to save my selfe When my poore boy was lost . Lost said I ? — O Phoebus , If there be soveraigne power in juice of hearbs , And that the teeming earth yeeld medicinall flowres To cure all maladies , I have sought the skill ; No leafe no root hath scap'd mee : I may boast it , I have been natures diligent Apothecary . Be lucky my emplaister ! I have temper'd The surest Recipe the worlds garden yeelds ; 'T would put Orestes in his wits again . I know I step upon my death : the Oracle Desires my blood for sacrifice , and Pilumnus For his old hate still seekes it : make long stay I dare not , only I desire t' apply My medicine and be gone . Who 's this I spy ?
SCEN. 3. Thestylis . Amyntas . Mopsus . — I doe remember now that countenance ; It is my sister Thestylis , I 'le stand close T' observe their actions . The. Would to Ceres She would be pleas'd at length to end her anger , And pitty poore Amyntas ! Cl.

So pray I.

Amy. I have the bravest spaniell in the world , Of a sharpe sent and quick . so ho ho , so ho ho ! Ringwood , Iowler , Whitefoot , so ho ho ! so ho ho ! Mop.

I shall be a whole kennell of dogs anon .

Amy.

Iuno , Vulcan , Venus ! so ho ho , so ho ho !

Mop.

Lord what a heavenly puppy he makes me now !

Amy.

There Lady there !

Mop.

Ha ? be their Lady-dogs as well as Lady-birds too !

Amy.

Beauty , Beauty .

Mop. Slid I was never cal'd that name before : Thestylis , Amyntas calls me Beauty , I prethee come kisse mee . The. Thus I spend my life Laughing amidst my teares . Amy.

Now Vertue Vertue !

Mop. Is that a dogs name too ? would I were hang'd If I 'le have any of it for that trick . Amy. Dost thou not sent it yet ? Close , close you rogue ! By Pan the curre hunts counter . Mop.

Oh good master ! Bow wow , bow wow wow —

Amyn. So now he has't again . What at a fault you mungrell ? will you never Start me this Oracle ? Mop. Start an Oracle ? As if an Oracle were a hare ? Amy. So 't is , And skuds away so swift we cannot take it . Start me this Oracle . Mop. Start it who 's will for mee , For I 'le not start it . Amy.

Then unkennell it .

Mop.

Vnkennell it ?

Amy. I , t is a Foxe a Foxe , A cunning crafty rogue : no body knowes Which way to finde him . ha ? what sent is this ? Dost thou not smell ? Mop.

What ?

Amy. The meaning of the Oracle ? Vnkennell it , or I will lease thee . Mop. Good sir , I have no skill in starting or unkennelling , But if you 'l have me spring an Oracle . — Amy.

And wilt thou doe it ? spring me then this Oracle !

Mop. I that I will , my skill lies all in birds , Whose flight I feare I have observ'd so long That I am metamorphos'd to a spaniell . Amy. Looke how my hawke of understanding soares About the Partridge Oracle ! — ill luck ! T is at retreat againe . Mop. O shall I never Rid me of this misfortune ! ( thankes good omen ) Cras , cras she saies , tomorrow 't will be better . Black bird I thank thee ! A Crow cawes . Claius to them . The. Litle thinks the wretched Claius now How sad a life his poore Amyntas lives ! Cl. Too well unto his griefe . — I 'le goe unto him And follow him in his humor : — You have got A dainty spanniell , sir. Amy. I think the world Cannot afford his equall . Cla.

What breed is hee ?

Amy.

True I 'le assure you .

Cl. Was the sire Of the same Country ? Amy. No , as I remember He was an Irish Grey-hound , but the damme Came of Acteons brood . Cl.

As how I pray ?

Amy. Why thus ; Melampus was the sire of Laelaps , Laelaps to Lagon , Lagon to Ichnobates , Ichnobates to Pamphagus , and Pamphagus To Dorceus , he to Labros , that was sire To Oresitrophus , Oresitrophus To fleet Theridamas , Theridamas To swift Nebrophonos , Nebrophonos To the quick-nos'd Aellus ; he to Dromas , Dromas to Tygris , Tygris to Orybasus , Orybasus to Pterelas , he to Nape , The damme of Mopsus . Mop. So then Orybasus Was my great grandfather . Though I be a Dog , I come of a good house . My Ancestors Were all of Noble names past understanding ▪ What a brave man 's my Master ! where learn'd he All this ? Ne're stirre now I could find in my heart To leave my Augury and study Heraldry ; A man I think may learn't as well as t'other , Yet never fear of growing too wise upon 't . And then will I record the pedegree Of all the dogs i' th' world . O that I had The Armes of all our house by th' Mothers side ! Cl. Sir I have brave things in a Basket for you . Give me your Dog , and you shall have 'em all . Amy.

Take him .

Mop. O heavens ! and shall I change my master , One mad man for another ? Amy. Curre be quiet , I have said it , and my will shall be a law . Mop. O good sir , for Melampus sake , and Dorceus Laelaps , Ichnobates , Lagon , Melanchetes , Labros , Nebrophonos , Oresitrophus , Tygris , Orybatus , Therydamas , Aellus , Dromes , Nape , and the rest Of all my Noble ancestors deceas'd , Be mercifull unto me ! Pitty pitty The only hope of all our family . Cl.

Sir , can he fetch and carry ?

Amy. You shall see him . Fetch sirrah : — there : — the curre is runne away , Helpe me to catch my dog : you 'l bring you mungrell ? Mop.

Yes much ! the birds will not advise me to it .

Exit . The. Sylvan why gaze you on us ? would you frolike With poore Amynta's madnes ; 't would ill beseem you To make our griefe your pastime . Cl. Not I by heaven ! My joyes are counterfeit , my sorrowes reall : ( I cannot hold from weeping ) ah you know not What griefe lies here within , ( teares you 'l betray me ! ) Give me my eye full of this noble sheapheard ! Who hath not heard how he hath chac'd the boare ! And how his speare hath torne the panch of wolves . On th' barke of every tree his name's ing●…aven . Now Planet struck , and all that vertue vanish'd . The.

Thy lookes are fierce , thy words bespeak thee Gentle .

Amy.

Why wep't he Thestylis !

The.

I did not marke him .

Amy. It was a mote in 's eye : I 'le kisse it out ; I 'le curle thy shackl'd locks , and crispe thy haire Like the streight-growing Cypresse . Come let 's put Our heads together . Thou art more then mortall , And shal't expound to Ceres what she askes . It is a gallant Sylvan , Thestylis . Cl. I am not skill'd in riddles , no interpreter Of Divinations , but dare contend With any Empyrick to doe a cure , Whether the body or the minde be sick . That is my study , I but crave the leave To try the powre of art upon this sheapheard . If Aesculapius be propitious to him , After the dew of one nights softer slumbers , I dare be bold to say he shall recover . Amy. My dog againe ? dost read it in the starres ? What a strange man is this ? Cl. Thy wits , Amyntas , I meane ; O cast thy armes in my embraces , Speak carefull Nymph how came he thus distracted ? Amy. I doe you meane ? with a very-very-very mad ▪ trick ▪ — By making verses . Cl.

Rest rest deluded fancy !

The. There was a time ( alas that ere it was . ) When my poore sheapheard fell in love . Cl.

With whom ?

The.

The starre of beauty , Pilumnu's much admir'd Vrania .

Cl.

O the crosse darts of fate !

The. Shee sweet Nymph inlodged The casket of his love in her own bosome , But Ceres set a Dowry ▪ Out alasse ! Would shee had ask'd our flocks , our kids , our groves ! Would she had bid us quench the flames of Aetna In Arethusa's streames , it had been easy . We fight with words and cannot conquer them ; This her Imperious Ompha ask'd , and Thunder'd That which thou hast not , maist not , canst not have Amyntas , is the Dowry that I crave . To finde out her commands , he lost himselfe . Cl. Your storie 's pittifull : T is my profession To wander through the Earth , and in my Travell , I am inquisitive after the sick to heale 'em ; Their cure and kind acceptance is my pay . You will not fear to lodge me for a night ? The.

We have but homely hospitality .

Amy.

I le feast thee with some Venison , brave Montano .

Cl. Thy restitution is my feast Amyntas ; Your curdes and chestnuts and your country fare Is bounteous for so meane a guest as I : But send for that Vrania her sweet voice Must sing a Lullaby to drowne his senses , And charme soft sleepe upon his troubled phancy . And 'fore the gray-eyd morne doe peepe , be confident I 'le put the musique of his braines in tune . Col.

You 'l call Vrania .

The. Doubt not sir , I will . Or send my servant Mycon by the Vale. Amy. Come Sylvan , if the dogs doe barke I 'le braine 'em ; Wee 'l sleepe to night together , and to morrow , Cl.

Will end I hope thy madnesse , not my sorrow .

Amy.

Wee 'l goe a hunting , so ho ho ! so ho ho !

Exeunt . Mopsus from the Orchard . Mop. Are the mad dogs gone yet ? A little more would have perswaded mee Into a spaniell : and I may be one For any thing I know : yet sure I am not Because methinkes I speake ; but an this speaking Should be but barking now : If I be a dog Heaven send me a better Master then the former . Ceres defend me , what strange Elves are there !
SCEN. 4. Dorylas with a Bevy of Fairies . Dor. How like you now my Grace ? is not my countenance Royall and full of Majesty ? Walke not I Like the young Prince of Pigmies ? Ha ? my knaves , Wee 'l fill our pockets . Looke looke yonder , Elves , Would not you apples tempt a better conscience Then any we have to rob an Orchard ? ha ! Fairies , like Nymphs with child , must have the things They long for . You sing here a Fairy catch In that strange tongue I taught you : while our selfe Doe clime the Trees . Thus Princely Oberon Ascends his throne of State . Elves Nos beata Fauni Proles , Quibus non est magnamoles , Quamvis Lunam incolamus , Hortos saepe frequentamus . Furto cuncta magis bella , Furto dulctor Puella . Furto omnia decora . Fur to poma dulciora . Cum mortales lecto jacent , Nobis poma noctu placent , Illa tamen sunt ingrata , Nisi furto sint parata . Iocastus . Bromius . Io. What divine noyse fraught with immortall harmony Salutes mine eare ? Bro. Why this immortall Harmony Rather salutes your Orchard : these young Rascalls , These pescod ▪ shalers doe so cheat my Master : We cannot have an apple in the Orchard , But straight some Fairy longs for 't : well if I Might have my will , a whip again should jerk h'em , Into their old mortality : Io. Dar'st thou schreetch-owle With thy rude croaking interrupt their musique ; Whose melody hath made the spheares to lay Their heavenly lutes aside , only to listen To their more charming notes ? Bro. Say what you will , I say a cudgell now were excellent Musique . Elves . Oberon descende citus , Ne cogaris hinc invitus . Canes audio latrantes , Et mortales vigilantes . Io.

Prince Oberon ? I heard his Graces name .

Bro. O ho : I spy his Grace ! Most noble Prince Come downe , or I will pelt your Grace with stones , That I believe your Grace was ne're so pelted Since 't was a Grace . Do.

Bold mortall , hold thy hand .

Bro. Immortall Thiefe come down , or I will fetch you : Methinks it should impaire his Graces honour To steale poore mortals apples : Now have at you ! Dor. Iocastus , we are Oberon , and we thought That one so neere to us as you in favour , Would not have suffer'd this prophane rude groome Thus to impaire our royaltie . Io. Gracious Prince , The fellow is a foole , and not yet purged From his mortalitie . Do. Did we out of love And our intire affection , of all Orchards Chuse your's to make it happy by our dances , Light ayry measures , and fantastique rings ! And you ingratefull mortall thus requites us . All for one Apple ! Io. Villaine th' hast undone me : His Grace is much incens'd . Do. You know , Iocastus , Our Grace have Orchards of our owne more precious Then mortals can have any : And we sent you A Present of them t'other day . Io. 'T is right , Your Graces humble servant must acknowledge it . Bro.

Some of his owne I am sure .

Do. I must confesse Their outside look'd something like yours indeed ; But then the tast more relish'd of eternitie , The same with Nectar . Io. Your good Grace is welcome To any thing I have : Nay , Gentlemen Pray doe not you spare neither : Elve ' .

Ti-ti-ta-te .

Io.

What say these mighty peeres , great Oberon ?

Do. They cannot speake this language , but in ours They thank you , and they say they will have none , Elves .

Ti-ti-ta-t●…-Tititatie

Io.

What say they now ?

Do. They doe request you now To grant them leave to dance a Fayry ring About your servant , and for his offence Pinch him : doe you the while command the traitour Not dareto stirre , not once presume to mutter . Io. Traytour , for so Prince Oberon deignes to call thee , Stirre not , nor mutter . Bro.

To be thus abus'd !

Io.

Ha ? mutter'st thou ?

Bro.

I have deserved better .

Io.

Still mutter'st thou ?

Bro.

I see I must endure it .

Io. Yet mutter'st thou ? Now Noble Lords begi●… When it shall please your honours . Do. Ti ti tatie . Our noble freind permits , Tititatie : Doe you not sir ? Io.

How should I say I doe ?

Do.

Ti ti ta tie .

Io.

Ti ti ta tie my Noble Lords .

Elves Quoniam per te violamur Vngues hic experiamur . Statim dices tibi datam Cutem valdè variatam . They dance . Io.

Tititatie to your Lordships for this excellent musick

Bro.

This 't is to have a coxcombe to on 's master .

Io.

Still mutter'st thou ?

Exit Bromius . Dorylas from the tree : Iocastus falls on his knees . Do And rise up Sir Iocastus , our deare Knight . Now hang the hallowed bell about his neck , We call it a mellisonant Tingle Tangle , ( Indeed a sheep-bell stolne from 's own fat wether . ) The ensigne of his knighthood . Sir Iocastus , Wee call to mind we promis'd you long since The President of our Dances place ; we are now Pleas'd to confirme it on you : give him there His Staffe of Dignity . aside . Io. Your Grace is pleas'd To honour your poore leigeman . Do.

Now begone .

Io. Farewell unto your Grace and eke to you , Tititatie my Noble Lords farewell . Exit . Dor. Tititatie my noble foole farewell : Now , my Nobility and honourd Lords , Our grace is pleas'd for to part stakes ; here Iocalo These are your share ; these his , and these our Graces . Have we not gull'd him bravely ! see you Rascalls , These are the fruits of witty knavery . Mopsus enters barking . Dor. Heaven shield Prince Oberon , and his honour'd Lords ! We are betraid . Mop. Bow wow wow . Nay nay since you have made a sheepe of my Brother I 'le be a dog to keepe him . Do.

O good Mopsus !

Mop.

Does not your Grace , most lowe and mighty Dorylas ,

Feare whipping now ? Do. Good Mopsus but conceale us , And I will promise by to morrow night To get thee Thestylis . Mop. I will aske leave Of the birds first . An owle ? the bird of night ; An owle That plainly shewes that by to morrow night , shreekes . He may performe his promise . Do.

And I will .

Mop. Why then I will conceale you . But your Grace Must thinke your Grace beholding to mee . Do. Well : We do●… . Mop. And thanke the owle , she stood your friend . And for this time my witty Grace farewell . Do. Nay be not so discourteous ; Stay and take An apple first : you Iocalo give him one , And you another , and our Grace a third . Mop. Your Grace is liberall : But now I feare I am not hee that must interpret th' Oracle . My brother will prevent me , to my griefe I much suspect it , for this Dorylas A scarre-crow cozend him most shamefully , Which makes me feare hee 's a more foole then I. Exit Mopsus . Dor. So , we are clean got off : come noble Peeres Of Fairy , come , attend our Royall Grace . Let 's goe and share our fruit with our Queen Mab , And th' other Dary maids : where of this theam We will discourse amidst our Cakes and Cream . Elves ▪ Cum tot poma habeamus , Triumphos laeti iam canamus . Faunos ego credam ortos Tantum ut frequentent hortos . I domum Oberon ad illas Quae nos manent nunc ancillas . Quarum osculemur sinum , Inter poma , lac , & vinum .
Finis Actus tertii .
ACTVS 4.
SCEN 1. Mopsus , The stilis . Mop. I would have you to know The stilis , so I would , I am no dog , but mortall flesh and blood As you are . Thes.

O be patient gentle Mopsus .

Mop.

Slid , fetch and carry !

Thes. Nay good sweet heart Be not so angry . Mop. Angry ? why 't would anger A dog indeed to be so us'd , a dog ! I would not use a dog so : bid a dog That comes of a good house to fetch and carry ! Discourteous ! ●…et him get dogs of his own , For I have got my neck out of the collar . Let him unkennell's Oracles himselfe For Mopsus , if I starte or spring him one I 'le dye the dogs death , and be hang'd : mad foole ! Thes. But Mopsus , you may now securely visit Mee and my house : Amyntas , heaven be prais'd , Is now recover'd of his wits again . Mop.

How ? and grown wise !

Thes.

Ceres be prais'd as ever .

Mop. Shut up your doores then ; Carduus Benedictus Or Dragon water may doe good upon him . Thes.

What mean you Mopsus ?

Mop. Mean I ? what mean you To invite me to your house when 't is infected ? Thes.

Infected ?

Mop. I , Amyntas has the Wits . And doe you think I 'le keepe him company ? Though , as I told you still , I am suspitious Iocastus is the man that must — The.

Doe what ?

Mop.

It grieves me to think of it .

The.

Out with 't man .

Mop. That must interpret ; I have cause to think ( With sorrow be it spoken ) he will prove The verier foole , but let him ; yet now my Aug●…ry That never failes me , tells mee certainly That I shall have thee , Thestylis , yet ere night ; It was an owle —
SCEN. 2. Claius . Amyntas . — And — see see , Thestylis , Here comes the Ivy bush . I 'le stand aside , For I am still most bodily afraid . Amy. What Deity lives here ? the soule of Phoebus Breaths in this powerfull man : sure Aeculapius Revisits earth againe ; and in this shape Deales health amongst us ! I before was nothing But brui●… and beast : O tell me by what reliques Of heavenly fire have you inspir'd me with This better soule of reason ! worthy sir , If y' are some God ( as lesse I cannot deeme you ) That pittying of my miseries , came downe From heaven to cure mee , tell mee , that I may With sacrifice adore you . Mop. Adore him ? Are there such Ruffian Gods in heaven as he ? Such beggarly Deities ? Amyn. If you will conceale it , And I by ignorance omit to pay Those sacred duties that I ought , be pleas'd To pardon me . Mop. Heighday ! well Thestylis , You may be glad your house is not infected ; Hee'sten times madder now then ere he was , To deify this rude ill-favour'd Silvan , This fellow with the beard all over : Thestylis , I dare not stay ; unlesse my heeles maintaine My safety I shall turne a dog againe . Exit Mopsus . Clai . I am as you are , mortall ; 't is my skill In Physick , and experience in the rare Vertue of herbes , that wrought this miracle ; No Divinity , or power in me . Thest.

Amyntas , when shall wee requite this kindnesse ?

Amynt . Never , I would willingly Have sacrific'd unto him , but his modesty Will not permit it : though he will not suffer us T' adore him as a God ; yet we may pay A reverence to him as a father . Claius .

O those words doe touch the quick !

Amyn. For if he be A father that begot this flesh , this clay , What 's he to whom we owe our second birth Of soule and reason ? Father , I must call you By that name , father . Claius . Now the floudgates open , And the full streame of teares will issue out : Traitors , you will betray me ! ( aside Thest.

Sir , why weepe you ?

Claius . To thinke of this man's father — O I lov'd him As dearely as my selfe ( my words and all Breake out suspitious ! ) has ●…e not a daughter ? As I remember well , he said her name was — The.

Amaryllis .

Cla. Yes , I had almost Forgot it , I would faine have seene her too . Thest. You cannot now , because to night she lodg'd With one Laurinda .
SCEN. 3. Vrania . Amy. O my Vrania , welcome , Amyntas bids thee so , I that 'till now Was not Amyntas : come my joy , and meet mee Full of our happinesse ! Vra. Grant Ceres now My hopes be faithfull to me : my Amyntas , How come your thoughts so setled ? Amyn. O Vrania , Here , here he stands , to whom I owe my selfe , And thou owest me : we reverence in our Temples Marble , and brasse , whose statues serve for nothing But to hang cobwebs on : oh ! how much rather Should we adore this Deity , that bestowed Such happinesse upon us ! Vra. Would we knew How to deserve it . Cla. So you may Vrania , If you will grant me one request . Vra.

Command it .

Cla. I would intreat you presently to vow Virginity to Ceres , that Amyntas No more may toyle his brain in thinking what To give you for a Dowry . Vra. Sir , I will Presently about it , I 'le only first Get some unknown disguise . Claius . I dare stay here No longer , for I must begon ereyet The light betrayes me . Vra.

Happinesse attend you !

Cla.

Remember it Vrania .

Amyn.

Farewell father .

Exeunt Vran. Amynt . Thestyl . Claius Solus . Clai . Thus like a bat , or owle I spend my age In night or darknesse , as asham'd of day , And fearefull of the light : the sunne and I Dare never be acquainted . O guilt , guilt , Thou and thy daughter feare are punishments Perpetuall , every whistling of the wind Doth seeme the noise of apprehenders ▪ shadowes Affright me more then men . Each step I tread Is danger . Life ? why to live longer should we Not live at all : I heare a noise : false timorousnesse Deceive me not , — my eyes instruct me too , Heaven shield me —
SCEN. 4. Alexis . Damon . Fain I would enquire of them For Amaryllis , but if one of these Bee Damon , I am lost . Alex.

How early , Damon , doe lovers rise ?

Cla.

T is he , I heare his name , good mole away .

Exit . Dam.

No Larkes so soon , Alexis .

Alex. He that of us shall have Laurinda , Damon , Will not be up so soone : ha ! would you Damon ? Dam. Alexis , no ▪ but if I misse Laurinda , My sleepe shall be eternall . Alex.

I much wonder the Sunne so soone can rise !

Da ▪

Did he lay his head in faire Laurinda's lap ,

Alexis .

We should have but short daies .

Alex.

No summer , Damon .

Dam.

Thetis to her is browne .

Alex. And he doth rise From her to gaze on faire Laurinda's eyes . Dam.

O now I long to meet our Arbitresse .

Alex.

On whom depends our only happinesse .

Dam. It must be the first Virgin that we greet From Ceres Temple . Alex.

Yes , the first we meet .

Dam.

I heare no noise of any yet that move .

Alex.

Devotion 's not so early up as love .

Dam. See how Aurora blushes ! we suppose Where Tithon lay to night . Alex. That modest rose He grafted there . Dam. O heaven , 't is all I seeke , To make that colour in Laurinda's cheeke . Alex.

The virgins now come from the Temple .

Dam.

Appeale unto the first .

SCEN. 5. The virgins passe over the stage with waxe candles in their hands , Amaryllis goes the first , but she is staid by Damon , as unknown to be Amaryllis , she being vail'd and having on her head the garland that Laurinda took from Damon . Chast beauteous Nymph , Ceres so grant your prayers , as you determine Iustly our cause ! Amar. Ceres has heard my prayers , For all my morning orisons beg'd no more Then one kind word from Damon . Dam.

Amaryllis !

Alex.

That name breaths life & soul to poore Alexis .

Amar. The same ; — why startle you ? you have not met A poyson , Damon . Dam. Yes , a thousand vipers Have stung my soule . Alex. As many joyes crown mine With happinesse . Dam. Would I had met this morning Infectious vapors nursing plagues , not thee ; No curse but that had power to ruin mee ! Alex.

No other blessing hath preserved mee .

Amar. What should this mean , my Damon ? how have I Displeas'd you , sweet ? heaven knowes it is my praier More then for heaven , to please you . Da. O my torture ! Fly hence as farre as hell , and hide thy head Lower then darknesse ; would thou had'st been acting ▪ Incest or murder , when thou cam'st to pray : Thou hadst in any thing sinn'd lesse then this : Vnseasonable devotion ! Amar. Can it be A sin to pray for Damon ? Dam. Thou had'st blest mee Had'st thou sate all this while in some dark cell Loading my head with curses . Ama. Innocence Let me not understand you . Da. I 'le not stand To her award , she is a partiall judge , And will decree unjustly . Ama. How , to Damon ? To him she loves so deerely ? Dam. That 's the reason ; Shee does confesse , Alexis , that she loves me , That 's argument enough against het . Amar.

Ceres , these obscure passions move me .

Alex. I 'le instruct you , Take here the paper , pen and inke . Ama. Why yet sir I know no more . Alex. You are to passe your censure , Being the first Nymph that we have met this morning , Which of us two must have the faire Laurinda . Write your award ; our mutuall oathes doe bind us Not to deny 't . Da. 'T is a meere plot contriv'd Betwixt this cursed Nymph , and you ▪ Alexis . Alex.

Damon you wrong us both .

Dam. Where did you steale This Garland ? it was mine . Amar. For that I love it , Because it once was thine . Da. For that I hate it , Cause it is thine , had it been true to mee ▪ Me thinkes as soone as it had toucht thy head It should have withered . Amar. So it would have done Had it not first touch't yours . Laurinda gave me This Garland , but nere told me of this accident . Da. Alexis , you deale false , 't is a conspiracy 'Twixt you and her . Alex. How can it ? you know , Damon , I have not beene one minute from your presence . Da.

You tooke your time while I was sleeping .

Alex. Neither , Nor I nor you could sleepe one winke this night , The expectation of this morning tryall Did keepe us both awake . Da. I doe not know , But there is some trick in 't , and I 'le appeale From her too partiall se●…ence . Ale . I 'le the while goe fetch Laurinda , shee shall force you stand Vnto her tryall . Exit . Amar. Damon , thy harsh language is more then death Vnto me . Da. I doe charge you to teare the paper , And refuse to judge between us . Amar.

No , I am resolv'd to write what I determine .

Da. Now thou hast indeed a time wherein thou maist Revenge my scorne . Take it , but I 'le prevent thee . he strikes her . Amar. Welcome death ! From him all things are so . Damon , fly hence , Thou hast shed bloud here in the Sacred Valley , Make hast away or thou art lost for ever . Dam.

Thy counsell's good , no matter whose the guilt .

Exit Damon . Ama. What was it he said last ? — Thou hast indeed A time wherein thou maist revenge my scorne . — With love , no otherwise : and there thou shalt not Prevent mee , Damon . I will write — This inke Deserves not to record the name of Damon , T is black and ugly ; thou thy selfe hast furnisht mee With that of better colour . 'T is my blood That 's truly Cupids inke : love ought to write Only with that ; — . This paper is too course ; O that I had my heart , to write it there ! But so it is already . Would I had A Parchment made of my own skin , in that To write the truth of my affection , A wonder to posterity ! — Hand make hast As my bloud does , or I shall faint I feare Ere I have done my story . —
SCEN. 6. Enter Dorylas . Dor. These milkemaids are the daintiest rogues ▪ they kisse As sweet as sillibubs , surely Oberon Lives a delitious life ! Ha! who lies here ? A Nymph ? If 't were but now in Oberons power To steale away her maidenhead , as she sleepes : O 't would be excellent sport , to see how shee Would misse it when she wakes : what misery 't is To be a boy ; why could not my good father Have got me five yeares sooner ? here had been A purchase : well , 't is but five yeares longer And I shall hope to see a merrier world . No body neere too ! Slid the very thought 's Enough to make me man o th sudden , well I 'le kisse her though . Amar.

Oh I faint .

Dor. She dreames ; Now shall I know all secrets : These same women Are given so much to talke when they are awake That they prate sleeping too . Ama. My blood congeales Within my quill , and I can write no more . Dor. Love letters ? she was troubled yester night About inditcing , and she dreames on 't now . Poore sleepy secretary ! Ama. I will fold it up And send it ; who 's that 's here ? my eyes Are dimme , ha , Dorylas ! Dor. Now she dreames shee gives it me to carry ; I halfe feare I use to carry letters in my sleepe , Wearying my selfe all night , and that 's the reason I am so loath to rise i' th' morning . Ama.

Dorylas , carry this letter for mee .

Dor. I thought so , That 's all that I can doe , carry their letters , Or runne of errands : well , come five yeares hence They may imploy me better . Vnto whom is it ? Amar.

Vnto Laurinda , take it .

Dor.

How , a red letter ?

Amar. Say I wish all health to her and Damon ; And being not able for to beare my griefes , I sought a remedy from mine own speare and died . Dor. How dead ? oh mee , See how her blood hath stain'd the holy Valley ! Well you have done me wrong to kill your selfe , Only to have me sacrifis'd on the Altar , I nere deserv'd it . Amar.

Fear not Dorylas .

Dor.

Fear not , to dye so like a calfe ? oh Dorylas oh —

Ama. Good Dorylas be gone , whilest yet my breath Will give me leave to say it was not you . Dor.

See that you doe , and so farewell .

Exit ▪ Amar. Farewell ! How fearfull death is unto them ; whose life Had any sweetnesse in it ! my daies have all Been so oreworne with sorrow , that this wound Is unto me rather a salve then fore , More physick then disease : whither my journey Shall lead me now ; through what dark hideous place ; Among what monsters , hags and snake-hair'd Furies , Am I to goe , I know not : but my life Hath been so spotlesse , chast , and innocent , My death so undeserv'd , I have no reason ( If there be Gods ) but to expect the best ; Yet what doth most torment mee , is the thought How long 't will bee ere I again enjoy My Damon's presence : untill then , Elysium Will be no place of pleasure ; and perchance When he comes thither too , he then may slight mee As much as now . — That very feare doth make thee Dye , wretched Amaryllis !
SCEN. 7. Enter Claius . Cla. How no feare Can make me loose the father ! Death or danger Threat what you can ; I have no heart to goe Back to the mountaines , 'till my eyes have seen My Amaryllis ! Amar. O was ever love So cros'd as mine ! was ever Nymph so wretched As Amaryllis ? Cla. Ha! I heard the sound Of Amarillis ; where 's that blessed creature , That owes the name ? are you the Virgin ? Ama. Yes , That fatall name is mine . I shall anon Be nothing but the name . Cla. O speak , what hand , What barbarous Tigers issue , what cursed whelpe Of Beares or Lyon , had the marble heart To wound so sweet a Nymph ? Amar. O sir , my bloud Calls none but fortune guilty . I by chance Stumbled on mine own dart , and hurt my selfe . ▪ Clai . Then I have hearbs to cure it : heaven I thank thee That didst instruct me hither ! still the bloud Flowes like a scarlet torrent , whose quick streame Will not be checkt : speak Amarillis , quickly , What hand this sinne hath stain'd , upon whose soule This bloud writes murther ; till you see the man Before your eyes , that gave the hurt , all hope In Physick is despaire : — She will not speak , And now the cure growes to the last . Yet here I have a Recipe will revive her spirits , Applies a medicine and rubs her temples . And 'till the last drop of her blood be clean Exhausted from those azure veines , preserve her ; But then shee 's lost for ever ! Then , O Ceres , If there be any in these groves , men , virgins , Beast , bird , or trees , or any thing detesting This horrid fact , reveale it ! Sacred grasse Whose hallowed greene this bloudy deed hath stain'd , Aske nature for a tongue to name the murtherer ! I 'le to the Temple : — If this place containe Any Divinity , Piety , or Religion , If there be any God at home , or Priest , Ompha , or Oracle , Shrine , or Altar , speake Who did it : who is guilty of this sinne , That dyes the earth with bloud , & makes the heavens Asham'd to stand a witnesse ?
SCEN. 8. Enter Pilumnus . Corymbus , Pilum . What sad voyce Disturbs our pious Orgyes ? Cor. See , Pilumnus , A virgin all in gore . Pil. Ceres defend us , The Sacred Vally is prophan'd . Cor. The place So deare to Ceres , all defil'd with bloud . Pil. By Ceres , and her holy Ompha , hee That did it , with his blood shall satisfy The Goddesse anger ; who by blood offends By his own sacrific'd , must make amends . Cla. I durst presume upon the power of art , Did I but know the murtherer . Pil. How soever 'T is death to him that did it . Cor. Speake his name Faire virgin . Ama. O — if it be death to him That did it , I have not the power to live Behind him . Cor.

Why , who was it then ?

Ama. My selfe , And therefore in my death your law is satisfied , The blood and act both mine . Cla. It is not so , For had it been by her own hand , my skill Could have preserv'd her life . Amar. It was my selfe , Or one as deare . Cla.

Who 's that ?

Ama. I 'le rather dye Then name him , though it be a name I use Oft to repeat , and every repetition Is a new soule unto mee : 't is a name I have taught the birds to caroll , every Laurell and Cedar beares it registred Vpon his tender barke ; it is a name In which is all the life I yet have left ; A name I long to speake ; yet I had rather Dye all the severall sorts of death twice over Then speake it once . Clai . I charge thee by that duty Thou ow'st to me , Amarillis , that thou owest to me Who gave thee life . — Pil.

What should this mean Corymbus !

Cl. And by the womb that bare thee , by the breasts Of thy dead mother , Lalage , Cor.

This is strange .

Cla. Conceale him not ! in plain , I am thy father Thy father , Amarillis , that commands thee By these gray haires to tell mee . I am Claius . Pilum .

How , Claius ! and so fortunatly found !

Claius . I , glut your hate , Pilumnus ; let your soule That has so long thirsted to drinke my blood , Swill till my veines are empty ; and carowse Deep in my heart , till you grow drunke , and reele , And vomit up the surfet , that your cruelty Quaft off with so much pleasure ; I have stood Long like a fatall oake , at which great Iove Levels his thunder ; all my boughes long since Blasted and wither'd ; now the trunke falls too . Heaven end thy wrath in mee ! Pilum . Blessed be Ceres ! What unexpected happines is here ? Rejoyce Sicilians ; miserable lovers , Crowne all your browes with roses , and adore The Deity that sent him : he is come Whose blood must quench the fire of Ceres wrath , And kindle more auspitious flames of love In every brest . Cla. I , doe , I feare not death . Let every Virgins hand when I am slaine Ring me a knell of Plaudits : let my Dirges Be amorous Ditties , and in stead of weeping Dance at my funerall ! T is no griefe for mee To dye to make my countrymen some sport . Here 's one in whom I only wish to live Another age . Amar. What joy have I to live , That nere liv'd yet : the time that I have spent Since first I wept , then , when I first had entrance Into this world , this cold and sorrowfull world , Was but a scene of sorrow ; wretched I ! Fatall to both my parents ! For my birth Ruin'd my mother , and my death my father . O Tragick life ! I either should have been Nere borne , or nere have died . When I began To be , my sinne began , why should it then Out live mee ? for , though now I cease to be , That still continues : Eyes , flow forth a pace , And be asham'd to see my wound run blood Faster then you drop teares — Enter Damon . See , here he comes . His absence never untill now I wisht . Dam. My Conscience brings me back , the feet of guilt Goe slow and dull , 't is hard to run away From that we beare about us ! Cla. The Murtherer Is in this place , the issue of her blood Is stop'd o th' sudden . Cruell man , 't is thou Hast done this bloudy act , that will disgrace The story of our nation , and imprint So deepe a blemish in the age we live in For savage Barbarisme , that eternity Shall nere weare out : Pilumnus , on my knees I beg the justice of Sicilian lawes Against this monster . Pilum . Claius , 't is your hate , And old revenge instructs you to accuse My Sonne : you would have fellowes in your death , And to that purpose you pretend , I know not What mysteries of art ! Cla. Speak Amaryllis I's t not this wolfe ? Pilum .

Say , virgin , was it hee ?

Ama. O , I am angry with my blood for stopping ! This coward ebbe against my will betraies mee ; The streame is turn'd , my eyes run faster now . Pilum .

Can you accuse my sonne ?

Amar. By Ceres , no ; I have no heart to doe it : does that face Look cruell ? doe those eyes sparkle with hate , Or malice ? Tell me , Father , lookes that brow As if it could but frowne ? Say , can you thinke T is possible Damon could have the heart To wound a Virgin ? surely barbarous cruelty Dwels not in such a brest : mercy , and mildnesse , Courtesy , love , and sweetnesse breath in him , Not Anger , wrath , or murther ; Damon was not Fed at a Thracian teat , Venus did send Her Doves to nurse him , and can he be cruell ? Whence should he learne so much of barbarisme As thus to wrong a Virgin ? if he wound mee T is only from his eyes , where loves blind God Whets his pil'd arrowes ; He besides , you know , Had never cause to wrong mee , for he knowes Alwaies I lov'd him : Father , doe not wrong An innocent ; his soule is white , and pure , T is sinne to thinke there lives a sinne in him ; Impiety to accuse him . Clai . In his lookes He carries guilt , whose horror breeds this strange And obstinate silence : shame , and his conscience Will not permit him to deny it . Amar. T is , alas , His modest , bashfull nature , and pure innocence , That makes him silent : think you that bright rose That buds within his cheekes , was planted there By guilt or shame ? no , he has alwaies been So unacquainted with all act of sinne , That but to be suspected strikes him dumb With wonder and amazement . For by Ceres ( I think my oath be lawfull ) I my selfe Was cause of this . Cla. Still I am confident 'T was hee . Pilum .

It is your envy makes you so .

SCEN. 9. Alexis . Laurinda . Lau. — I will Alexis , And so he must if oathes be any tye . Alex. To lovers they are none , we break those bonds As easily as threds of silke : A bracelet Made of your maidens haire 's a stronger chaine Then twenty cobweb oathes , which while we break Venus but laughs : it must be your perswasion That works him to it . Lau. Damon , you must stand To what you promis'd , how shall I believe Those other oathes you sweare , if you respect This one no better : It was my device To have her judge , was it not , Amarillis ? How , all in blood ! Cla. Yes , this unmercifull man ( If he be man that can doe such a crime ) Has wounded her . Amar.

Indeed it was not hee .

Pil.

You see her selfe frees him .

Lau. When last we left her She was with Damon . Ama. Pray believe her not , She speaks it out of anger , I nere saw Damon to day before . Alex. And when we left 'em He was incens'd . Amar. You are no competent witnesse ; You are his Rivall in Laurinda's love , And speak not truth but malice , 't is a plot To ruin innocence . Lau. O ungratefull man ! The wolfe that does devoure the brest that nurst it Is not so bad as thou : here , here , this Letter Th' eternall Chronicle of affection , That ought with golden characters to be writ In Cupids Annals , will ( false man ) convince thee Of fowle ingratitude : you shall hear me read it . The Letter . Laurinda , you have put it unto mee To choose a husband for you , I will be A judge impartiall , upright , just and true , Yet not so much unto my selfe as you . Alex.

Now I expect to hear my blessed doome .

Lau. Alexis well deserves , but Damon more ; I wish you him I wisht my selfe before . Alex. O , I am ruin'd in the height of hope . How like the hearb Solstitiall is a lover , Now borne , now dead again , he buds , sprouts forth , Flourishes , ripens , withers in a minute . Lau. Take him , the best of men , that ever eye Beheld , and live with him for whom I dye . Amarillis . Here look on 't . — Dam. Writ with blood ? o let me kisse My bill of Accusation ! here my name Lookes like my soule , all crimson , every line , Word , syllable , and letter , weares the livery Of my unnaturall action . Amarillis That name of all is black , which was alone Worthy so pretious inke ; as if disdaining The character of cruelty , which the rest Were cloathd in : for as if that word alone Did weare this mourning colour , to bewaile The funerall of my vertue , that lies buried Here in this living tombe , this moving sepulchre . Lau. Know murtherer I hate thy bed , and thee , Unkind , unthankfull villaine . Ama. Nay , Laurinda , You have bound your selfe to stand to my award ; The sentence now is past , and you must love him , It cannot be revers'd ; you are deceiv'd , He is not guilty of this sinne , his love To me , for mine , makes him against his conscience Seeme to confesse it , but believe him not . Lau.

Nor will , he is all falshood , and ingratitude .

Da. Laurinda , you may spare in this harsh language To utter your dislike : had you a beauty More then immortall , and a face whose glory Farre outshind Angels , I would make my choyce Here , and no where but here ; her vertue now Moves a more noble flame within my brest Then ere your beauty did ; I am enamour'd More of her soule , then ever yet I doted Upon your face : I doe confesse the fact ; Pardon me vertuous maid , for though the action Be worthy death , the object most condemnes mee ! Take me to death Corymbus ; Amarillis , I goe to write my story of repentance With the same inke , wherewith thou wrotes before The legend of thy love , farewell , farewell . Exeunt Corymb . Dam. Pil. Laurinda , and Alexis , doe you call The Sheapheards , and the virgins of Sicilia To see him sacrific'd , whose death must make There loves more fortunate ; this day shall be Happy to all Sicilians , but to mee . Yet come thou cursed Claius , the sweet comfort Which I shall take when my revenge is done , Will something ease the sorrow for my sonne . Clai . Amarillis , prethee call Amyntas to mee , And Thestylis : I faine would have mine eye Behold them once again before I dye . Ex. Pil. Cla. Ale . Come my Laurinda , through how many chances , Suspicions , errors , sorrowes , doubts , and feares Love leads us to our pleasures ; many stormes Have we sail'd through my Sweet , but who could feare A tempest , that had hope to harbour here . Ex. Alex. Lau. Amarillis sola . Amar. All , all but the distressed Amarillis Are happy , or lesse wretched ; fair Laurinda Is ready for a wedding , old Pilumnus Hath lost a sonne , yet mitigates his griefe In Claius death , my father Claius dies Yet joyes to have the sonne of his old enemy A partner of his sorrowes ; my father looses Only himselfe ; and Damon too no more ; Amyntas but a father , onely I Have lost all these ; I have lost Claius , Damon , And my selfe too ; A father with Amyntas , And all the rest in Damon , and which more Affects mee , I am cause of all ; Pilumnus Had not else lost his sonne , nor had Amyntas Wept for a Father , nor poore Thestylis Bewail'd a brother ; Damon might have liv'd , And Claius but for mee ; all circumstances Concurreto make my miseries compleat , And sorrowes perfect : for I lost my father As soone as I had found him , and my Damon As soone as I had found he lov'd mee : thus All I can find is losse ; o too too wretched , Distressed virgin ! when they both are dead Visit their Ashes , and first weepe an howre On Claius Vrne , then go , and spend another At Damon's ; thence again goe wet the tombe Of thy dead father , and from thence returne Back to thy lovers grave ; thus spend thy age In sorrowes ; and till death doe end thy cares Betwixt these two equally share thy teares .
Finis Actus quarti .
ACTVS 5.
SCEN. 1. Dorylas , and a Chorus of Swaines . Dor. COme neighbours , let 's goe see the sacrifice Must make you happy lovers : oh 't will be A fortunate season ! Father Coridon , You and old mother Baucis shall be friends . The sheepe-hooke and the distaffe shall shake hands . You lovely freeze-coats , nothing now but kissing , Kissing and culling , culling and kissing , heighday ! In hope it will be one day so with mee I am content to live . Now let 's ascend .
SCEN. 2. Alexis . Laurinda . Medorus . Alex. Now my Laurinda , now ( o happy now ! ) All lets that stood between my joy and mee Are gone and fled . Lau. Long , o too long , Alexis , My doubtfull fancy wavered whom to love , Damon , or you ; in both was happinesse , But double happinesse was my single misery : So far'd it once , Alexis , ( for I well Remember it ) with one of my poore ewes , Equally mov'd between two tufts of grasse , This tempting one way , that inticing t' other , Now she would this , then that , then this againe , Vntill poore foole ( true embleme of her mistresse ) Shee almost starv'd in choosing which to feed on ; At last ( so heaven pittied the innocent foole ) A westerne gale nipt one , which being blasted Shee fed upon the other . Ale .

Pretty fool ! le ts now no more deferre our nuptial ( joyes .

Med. How sweet a folly is this love ? But rash youth , Alexis , ( As youth is rash ) runnes indiscreetly on While mature judgment ripened by experience Stayes for loves season . Alex. Season ? why , can love Be ever out of season ? Med. Yes , Alexis , Nothing 's borne ripe , all things at first are greene , Alex.

Lau. And such shall our affection still be seene .

Med. You are to hasty reapers that doe call For Sickles in the spring : Alex. Loves , harvest shall ; ( Lovers you know ) his harvest ought to bee All the yeare long . Lau. In Cupids husbandry , Who reapes not in the spring , reapes not at all . Med. Woemen indeed too soone begin their fall . Yet till curst Claius dye , as now he must , Alexis , and Laurinda , let my counsell Asswage the heat of youth ; pray be perswaded A while for to deferre your nuptiall blisse ; 'T is but a while . Alex.

A while in lov 's an age .

Lau.

Maids in a while grow old .

Med.

Temper loves fire .

Alex.

'T is but cold love that 's temperate in desire .

Med. Yet , loving paire , stay 'till a fayrer gale ; He deserves shipwrack , ( 't is the Marriners flout ) And justly too , that in a storme sets out . Lau.

I will suppresse my flame , ( ah still it glowes . )

Alex.

And I , but how unwilling Cupid knowes !

Med. T is well ; now let 's goe take our place , to see For our sad griefes a sadder remedy .
SCEN. 3. Amyntas . Amarillis . Amar. — Yes , it was he : hee 's in the temple brother , A place wherein he doth deserve a shrine , Yet is to him a prison ; can you Gods Suffer the place that 's reard unto your honours Be made so vile a thing ? Amyn. Pray give mee entrance : I am not mad , ( and yet I would I were ) Am I not mad to wish so ? Let me come And see him , sure you had your selfe a father . Did you not wish to see him ere he died ? If he be dead : wee 'l only pray a while , And weep ; will tears pollute the hallowed Ompha ? For we must shed them , yes , we cannot choose : Come sister , he will let us , for though Lalage Was our sad mother , yet the Gods will let us Weepe for her : come , come Amarillis , come . Exit .
SCEN. 4. Mopsus . Iocastus . Iocast.

Brother , aread , what meanes his graces favour ?

Mop. It signifies you bear the bell away , From all his Graces nobles . Io. Divinely Augur'd ; For this I 'le make thee Augur to his grace . Mop.

Belwether of Knight-hood , you shall bind me to you .

Io. I 'le have 't no more a sheep-bell ; I am Knight Of the Mellisonant Tingle tangle . Mop. Sure one of my progeny ; tell me gratious brother , Was this Mellisonant Tingle tangle none Of old Actaeons hounds ? Io. Ignorant mortall , Thou dost not understand the termes of honour . Mop.

How should I sir , my trees bear no such apples :

Io. As mine , th' Hesperian fruit are crabbs to mine , Hence came the Knight-hood , hence . Mop.

The fame whereof rings loud .

Io.

We know it .

Mop. Foure such knight-hoods more Would make an excellent peale . Io.

I 'le have 'em so .

Mop.

But you must get a squirell too .

Io.

For what ?

Mop.

To ring your Knight-hoods .

Io. I 'le have any thing , His grace will not deny me , o sweet orchard . Mop.

To see the fruit that came of such an orchard !

Io.

But shall we not see Claius sacrific'd ?

Mop.

Oh by all meanes .

Io.

But how deserv'd he death ?

Mop. No matter for deserving it or no ; T is fit he suffer for example sake . Io.

And not offend ?

Mop.

T is fit he should offend .

They take their places .
SCEN. 5. Pilumnus with a sacrificing knife , fire laid on the Altar , a Priest holding a Taper ready to kindle it , another Priest powring water on Claius head , who was bound : Corymbus leading out Damon bound . Pil. Sicilians , Nature and religion Are at contention in mee : my sad soule Divided 'twixt my Goddesse and my sonne , Would in her strange distractions , either have mee Turne Parricide or Apostate : Awefull Ceres , For whom I feed the fattest of my Lambs , To whom I send the holiest of my prayers Vpon the smoaky wings of sweetest myrrhe , Instruct thy doubtfull Flamen ! As I cannot Forget I am thy priest : for sooner shall Our Lambs forget to feed , our swaines to sing , Our Bees forget first , from the fruitfull Thyme To cull them baggs of Nectar : everything Forget his nature , ere I can forget I am thy Priest : Nor can I but remember That Damon is my sonne : yet take him Ceres ! You need not powre water upon his head , I 'le doe it with my teares . Ceres , I hope Thy anger will not bind the Fathers eye To look into the Bowels of his sonne , I 'le therefore first spill on thy hallowed Altar This Captives blood ; and then retire my selfe Not to be present at my Damons death Least nature might turne Rebell to devotion . Song . Ceres , to whom we owe that yet We doe not Mast and Acornes eat : That didst provide us better meat , The purest flower of finest wheat . This bloud we spill at thy desire , To kindle , and to quench a ire . O let it quench thy flame of fire , And kindle mercies more entire . O let this guilty bloud attone For every poore unlucky one ; Nymph , or Swain , who ere doe grone Vnder sad Loves imperious throne . That Love a happier age may see In thy long tortur'd Sicily . That blood which must th' Attonement bee Thus Goddesse , thus , we pay to thee ! Amyntas . Amarillis . Amy. Stay , stay that impious hand , whose hasty zeale Thinks murther can appease the Goddesse wrath ! If it be murther must appease her wrath , What is 't can move her anger ? Doe not then , Doe not pollute her Altar , least it keep The crimson staine of bloud , and blush for ever , At this too cruell , ignorant devotion . Pil.

Avoid the mad man .

Amyn. Why Pilumnus , Why ? By the dread Ompha , spare this guilty blood , And I 'le expound the Oracle . Amyn.

What fire has yet his bloud or quench't or kindled ?

Pil. Why it hath quencht the sadder flames of love , And more auspitious fires begin to move . Amyn. Where ? in what brest ? No love in all Trinacria But under Cupids scepter faints and groanes More now then ever . Thy unfortunate Damon , And more unfortunate Amarillis stand A sad example ; Thy Vrania ( O sad sweet name ! ) may with her poore Amintas Witnesse his tyrannous reigne : here in Sicilia Turtles grow jealous , Doves are turn'd unchast , The very Pellica●…s of Trinacria●… woods Are found unnaturall , and thirst the bloud Of their young brood , ( alas who can believe it ? ) Whom they were wont to suckle with their own . O wretched season ! Bitter fruits of love ! The very Storks with us are Parricides . Nay even the senselesse trees are sensible Of this imperious rage : the gentle Vine ( The happy embleme once of happier Lovers ) That with such amorous twines , and close imbraces Did cling about the loved-loving elme , With slacker branches now falls down and withers : If then to adde more fuell to the flame , To powre in oyle and sulphure be to quench it , The flame is quench'd . Nor are you hee , Pilumnus , That must expound the Oracle , 'T is a witt Such as mine is neglected , that must hit The Goddesse meaning : you , the living Oracle Of Sicilie , the breathing Ompha of the Kingdome Will misconceive the Goddesse ; you are wise Skil'd in the vertues of all herbs , and flowers , What makes our Ewes ean best , what keeps them sound ; Can tell us all the mysteries of heaven , The number , height , and motion of the starres ; T is a mad brain , an intellect , you scorne That must unty this riddle . Pil. But I know The wrath of Ceres cannot be appeas'd But by the bloud of Claius . Amy.

So it is .

Pil. How can that bee ? yet his accursed gore Hath not imbru'd the Altar . Amyn. But his bloud Hath been already shed in Amarillis : Shee is his bloud , so is Vrania yours , And Damon is your bloud ; That is the bloud The Goddesse aimes at , that must still her ire , For her bloud hath both quench't and kindled fire . Pil.

What hath it quencht or kindled ?

Amyn. Love , the fire That must be quench't and kindled . Damons love To his Laurinda in that bloud extinguish'd , Is by that powerfull bloud kindled anew To Amarillis , now grown his desire : Thus Claius bloud hath quench't and kindled fire . All.

Amyntas , Amyntas , Amyntas , Amyntas .

Pil. And is the fire of my Damon kindled But to be quench't againe : Ceres ! a frost Dwell on thy Alters , ere my zeale renew Religious fires to warme'em . Amyn. Spare these blasphemies , For Damon is acquitted & affoil'd Of any trespasse . Pil. How Amyntas ? speake ! Thou that hast sav'd a Father , save a sonne . Amyn. Thus , Amarillis is the Sacrifice The Goddesse aim'd at : and the bloud of Sacrifice ( As you all know ) may lawfully be spilt Even in the Holy vale , and so it was ; Besides your Damon is a Priest by birth , And therefore by that Title , he may spill The sacrifized Amarillis bloud . If this interpretation be not true , Speak you Sicilians , I 'le be judg'd by you . All.

Amyntas , Amyntas , Amyntas , Amyntas .

Pil. Amyntas , thou hast now made full amends For my Philebus death ; Claius all envy , Envy the viper of a venemous soule Shall quit my brest : This is the man , Sicilians , The man to whom you owe your liberties ; Goe Virgins , and with Roses strow his way , Crowne him with violets , and lilly wreathes ; Cut off your golden tresses , and from them Weave him a robe of love : Damon , pay here The debt of duty that thou ow'st to mee ; Hence was thy second birth . Da. Or hither rather : The Balsame of Sicilia flowed from hence , Hence from this scarlet torrent , whose each drop Might ransome Cupid were he captive tane . Amaril. How much owe I my Damon , whose blest hand Made mee the publique sacrifice ! could I shed As many drops of blood , even from the heart , As Arethusa drops of water can , I would outvie her at the fullest tide , That other Virgins loues might happy be , And mine my Damon be as blest in thee . Clai . O what a showre of joy falls from mine eyes ! The now too fortunate Claius ! my Amyntas , My Amarillis , how shall I divide My teares and joyes betwixt you ! Pil. Lovers come , Come all with flowry chaplets on your browes , And singing Hymmes to Ceres , walk around This happy village ; to expresse our glee This day each yeare shall Cupids triumphs bee . Amyn. Still my impossible Dowry for Vrania Leaves mee unfortunate in the mid'st of joy ; Yet out of piety I will heere a while ( Though blest I am not 'till she be my bride ) In publique joyes lay private griefes aside . Exeunt cum Choro cantantium ▪ Io. And I 'le goe fetch the youngsters of the towne , The mortall Fairies , and the lasses browne , To bring spic'd cakes , and ale , to dance and play , Queen Mab her selfe shall keepe it holy-day . Exit . Mop. Ah Dorilas that I could not have the wit To have been a mad man rather then a foole . I have lost the credit . Dor. T is no matter You shall have Thestylis , Mop. Shall I , Dorylas , I had as live interpret her as Oracles . Dor.

And here she comes , give mee your quaile pipe , harke you . —

Exit . Enter Thestylis . Mop. Now , Thestylis , thou shalt mine Oracle bee , Hence forth I will interpret none but thee . Thes.

Why haue the birds ( my Mopsus ) councel'd so ?

Mop.

They say I must , whether you will or noe .

Thes.

How know I that ?

Mop. The birds doe speak it plain . Dorilas with a quaile pipe . Harke , Thestylis , the birds say so again . Thes.

I understand them not .

Mop. Will you be judg'd By th' next we meet ? Thes. Mopsus , I am content , So you will stand unto it as well as I. Mop.

By Ceres , Thestylis , most willingly .

Enter Dorylas . Mop.

Ah Dorilus , heard you what the birds did say ?

Dor.

I Mopsus , you are a happy man to day .

Mop.

What said they boy ?

Dor.

As if you did not know .

Mop.

But Thestylis .

Dor. Why sure she understands it , Have you to her this language never read ? Mop.

No , Dorylas , I can teach her best in bed .

Dor. The Birds said twice : ( as you full well doe know ) You must have Thestylis whether she will or no. Thes. And am I caught ? T is no great matter though ; For this time Mopsus I will marry thee ; The next I wed , by Pan , shall wiser bee ! Mop.

And have I got thee ? thankes my witty boy .

Do.

Harke , Thestylis , the birds doe bid you joy .

Thes.

For fooling Mopsus , now 't is time give ore .

Mop.

Mad man I may , but will be foole no more .

Thes. Mad after marriage as a foole before . For hee 's a foole that weds , all wives being bad ; And shee 's a foole makes not her husband mad .
SCEN. 6. Iocastus with a Morrice , himselfe maid Marrian , Bromius the Clowne . Dor. See , Mopsus , see , here comes your Fairy brother , Hark you , for one good turne deserves another . Exeunt Dor. Mop. Iocast. I did not think there had been such delight In any mortall Morrice , they doe caper Like quarter Fairies at the least : by my Knight-hood , And by this sweet Mellisonant Tingle tangle , The ensigne of my glory , you shall bee Of Oberons Revels . Bro. What to doe I pray ? To dance away your Apples . Iocas . Surely mortall , Thou art not fit for any office there . Enter Dorylas like the King of Fairies . Mopsus . Io. See , blind mortall , see , With what a port , what grace , what majesty This princely Oberon comes , your Grace is welcome . Do. A beauteous Lady , bright , and rare , Queen Mab her selfe is not so faire . Io.

Does your grace take me for a woman then ?

Do. Yes beauteous virgin ; Thy each part Has shot an arrow through my heart ; Thy blazing eye , thy lip so thinne , Thy azure cheek , & christall chinne , Thy rainbow brow , with many a rose ; Thy saphyre eares , and ruby nose , All wound my soule , O gentle be Or Lady you will ruin mee . Io. Bromius , what shall I doe ? I am no woman ! If geelding of me will preserve your grace , With all my heart . Bro. No master , let him rather Steale away all your orchard Apples . Io. I and shall , Beauteous Queen Mab may loose her longing else . Do. How 's this ? are you no woman then ? Can such bright beauty live with men ? Io.

An 't please your grace I am your Knight Iocastus .

Do. Indeed I thought no man but hee Could of such perfect beauty bee . Io.

Cannot your Grace distill me to a woman .

Do. I have an hearb , they Moly call , Can change thy shape ( my sweet ) and shall . To tast this Moly but agree , And thou shalt perfect woman bee . Io. With all my heart ; nere let me move But I am up to th' eares in love . But what if I doe marry thee ? Do.

My Queene Iocasta thou shalt bee :

Io. Sweet Moly ! pray let Bromius have some Moly too , Hee 'l make a very pretty waiting maid . Bro.

No indeed forsooth , you have Ladies enough already .

Do. Halfe your estate then give to mee , Else , you being gone , there none will be , Whose Orchard I dare here frequent . Io.

Sweet Oberon , I am content .

Do.

The other halfe let Mopsus take .

Io.

And Thestylis a joynture make .

Bro.

Why master , are you mad ?

Io. Your mistrisse sirrah . Our grace has said it , and it shall be so . Bro.

What , will you give away all your estate ?

Io. We have enough beside in Fairy land . You Thestylis shall be our maid of honour . Thes.

I humbly thank your Grace .

Io. Come Princely Oberon , I long to tast this Moly : pray bestow The Knight-hood of the Mellisonant Tingle tangle , Vpon our brother Mopsus , we will raise All of our house to honours . Mop.

Gracious sister !

Io.

I alwaies thought I was borne to be a Queene .

Do. Come let us walke , majestique Queene , Of Fairy mortalls to be seene . In chaires of Pearle thou plac't shalt bee , And Empresses shall envy thee , When they behold upon our throne Iocasta with her — Dorilas . All.

Ha , ha , ha !

Io.

Am I deceiv'd and cheated , guld and foold ?

Mop.

Alas sir you were borne to be a Queene .

Io.

My lands , my livings , and my orchard gone ?

Dor.

Your grace hath said it , and it must be so .

Bro.

You have enough beside in Fairy land .

Thes.

What would your Grace command your maid of honour ?

Dor. Well I restore your lands : only the orchar'd I will reserve for fear Queen Mab should long . Mop. Part I 'le restore unto my liberall sister In leiw of my great Knighthood . Thes.

Part give I.

Io.

I am beholding to your liberality .

Bro. I 'le some thing give as well as doe the rest , Take my fooles coat , for you deserve it best . Io.

I shall grow wiser .

Dor.

Oberon will be glad on 't

Thes. I must goe call Vrania that she may Come vow Virginity . Exit .
SCEN. 7. Pilumnus . Amyntas . &c. Amyn. Ceres , I doe thank thee , That I am author of this publique joy : But is it justice ( Goddesse ) I alone Should have no share in 't ? Every one I see Is happy but my selfe that made 'em so , And my Vrania that should most be so . I thirst amidst the Bowles ; when others sit Quaffing off Nectar , I but hold the cup ; And stand a sadder Tantalus of love , Starving in all this plenty ; Cere's Demand Feeds mee with gall ; stretching my doubtfull thoughts On many thousand racks : I would my Dowry Was all the gold of Tagas , or the ore Of bright Pactolus channell : — But , Vrania , T is hid , alas I know not what it is .
SCEN. 8. Vrania . Thestylis . My Thestylis , since first the Sea-gods Trident Did rule the small three pointed peece of earth Of this our conquering soile , it has not been A place of so much story as to day , So full of wonders : O 't will serve ( my Thestylis ) For our discourse when we goe fol'd our Ewes , Those Sheapheards that another day shall keep Their Kiddes upon these mountaines shall for ever Relate the miracle to their wondring Nymphs , Of my Vrania ; it will fill their eares With admiration . Thes.

Sir , Vrania's here .

Amyn. How ! in this habit ! This me thinks befits not A Lover , my Vrania . Vra. Yes , Amyntas . This habit well befits a Virgins life . For since my Dowry never can be paid Thus for thy sake I 'le live and dye a maid . Amyn. O is it just , so faire a one as you Should vow Virginity ? must the sacred womb Of my Vrania fit to have brought forth A fruitfull race of Gods , be ever barren ? Never expect Lucina ? shall this beauty Live but one age ? how curs'd is our posterity That shall have no Vrania's ! can one Tombe Contain all goodnesse ? Ceres rather blast The corne thou gav'st us : let the earth grow barren ; These trees , and flowers wither eternally ; Let our Plowes toyle in vaine ; and let there be No more a harvest : Every losse is small , Yea though the Phaenix selfe should burne to ashes And nere revive again ! But let there be Some more Vrania's — Pilum . T is necessity , We must obey . Amyn. But yet Vrania , I hope we may sometimes come pray together ; 'T is not prophane , and mid'st our sacred Orisons Change a chast kisse or two ; or shall I too Turne Virgin with thee ? — But I foole my selfe , The Gods intend to crosse us , and in vaine We strive ( Vrania ) to crosse them again . Vrania kneeling before the Ompha . Vran. Great Ceres , for thy daughter Proserpines sake Ravisht by Pluto from Sicilian plaines To raigne with him Queen of Elysian shades , Accept the sacrifice of a Virgin , for It is thy Pleasure , thine , by whom the earth And every thing growes fruitfull , to have mee Be ever barren : Thy impossible Dowry , Makes me despaire to be Amyntas bride ; Therefore that cold chast snow that never should Have melted but betwixt his amorous armes I vow unto thy Cloyster ( Awfull Goddesse ! ) Almighty Ceres , is not this life holy Echo .

Folly .

Better then live in an unhappy love ? Ec.

Happy love ▪

Be judge ye woods , & let Amyntas speak . Ec.

Amyntas , speak .

Pil. The Goddesse is well pleas'd , she daines to answer By gracious Echo's ; goe Amyntas speak . Amyn. Why , will she answer mee before Vrania ? No , 't was the musique of her Angels voice , Whose heavenly Accents with such charming notes Ravish'd the Goddesse eares , she could not choose But bear a part in that harmonious song ; Yet if she will after such melody Endure to hear the harsh Amyntas speak . Ec.

Amyntas , speak .

When wilt thou think my torments are enow ? Ec.

Now.

Alas , how is it possible I should hope it ? Echo .

Hope it .

How shall I pay the Dowry that you aske mee ? Echo .

Aske mee .

I aske a Dowry to be made a Husband . Echo .

A Husband .

Answer directly to what I said last . Echo .

What I said last .

A Husband , Ceres ? Why is that the guesse ? Ec.

Yes .

That which I have not , may not , cannot have , — I have not , may not , cannot have a Husband . T is true , I am a man , nor would I change My sexe , to be the Empresse of the world . Vrania , take thy Dowry , 't is my selfe ; A Husband , take it . Vran. T is the richest Dowry That ere my most ambitious praiers could beg ▪ But I will bring a portion , my Amyntas , Shall equall it , if it can equall'd bee : That which I have not , may not , cannot have Shall be thy portion , 't is a wife , Amyntas Amyn. Should greater Queenes wooe mee in all their Pride , And in their laps bring me the wealth of worlds , I should prefer this portion 'fore the best ▪ Thankes Ceres , that hast made us both be blest . Echo .

Be blest .

Clai . Pilumnus , let us now grow young againe , And like two trees robb'd of their leafy boughes By winter , age , and Boreas keener breath , Sprout forth and bud again : This spring of joy Cuts forty yeares away from the gray summe . Once more in triumph let us walke the Village ! Pilum . But first I will intreat this company To deigne to take part in this publique joy . Pilumnus Epilogizes . All Loves are happy , none with us there bee , Now sick of coynesse , or unconstancy . The wealthy summes of Kisses doe amount To greater scores then curious art can count ! Each eye is fix'd upon his Mistris face , And every arme is lockt in some embrace . Each cheeke is dimpled ; every lip doth smile : Such happinesse I wish this blessed Isle , This little world of Lovers : and least you Should think this blisse no reall joyes , nor true , Would every Lady in this orbe might see Their Loves as happy as we say they be ! And for you gentle youths , whose tender hearts Are not shot proofe 'gainst love and Cupids darts ; These are my Prayrs , ( I would those prayrs were charmes ) That each had here his Mistrisse in his armes . True Lovers , ( for t is truth gives love delight ) To you our Authors only means to wright . If he have pleas'd ( as yet he doubtfull stands ) For his applause clap lips instead of Hands . He beggs nor Bayes , nor Ivy ; only this , Seale his wisht Plaudite with an amorous Kisse . Exeunt Cantantes .
FINIS .