AMBITION SCOVRGE.
DESCRIBED IN THE MORALE FICTION OF IXYON, BY Sands Penuen.
Qui desiderium suum c [...]ausit, cum [...]oue de Foelicitate contendit.Senec.
LONDON, Printed for Iohn Helme, and are to be solde at his shoppe, in S. Dunston [...] Church-yard in Fleetstrecte. 1611.
TO THE RIGHT [...]Rshipfull, Syr Michaell Sands, of Throughley in Kent, Knight.
IF what is truly Morall, serious, graue,
May (clad in Rimes) but gracious fauour haue:
From your Right worthy selfe, then am I crown'd,
As if with Laurell, for in you abound
All that make man compleate; t' is you therefore
That my Muse for her Patron doth implore:
T'was by your meanes that I was first instructed
In Grammer learning, since which time inducted
To some more knowledge, I most humbly pray
You, to accept this Tributarie pay,
From him (who though his Muse) bee yet vnnoted,
Vowes all her studies are to you deuoted.
Nor should it bee a blemish to your Fame,
To haue these Pages waite vpon your Name.
Your worships to command, Sa: Penuen.
The Author to the Presse. Epigram.
THe Presse for Print, is vvorse then that for Death;
For that stops ill, and this vent's stincking breath.
Sa. P.
To his Friend, Sa: Penuen, on his Ixyon.
IT seemes Apollo leades thee to the spring,
Where thou maist heare the learned Sisters sing:
For by thy liuely vvittes Inuention,
Thou shevv'st Ixyons leaud intention.
Hee hath his merit, punishment and shame,
Take thou thy merit, t'is a liuing Fame.
C. R. Gent.
R. D. Esquire, to his respected Friend, Sands Penuen.
IF only hee might reade, that knew to write,
Whose Censure voyde of Ignorance as spight:
Might cherish free, or checke: not hee whose braine
Is lighter then his feather, whose chiefe straine
Of wit, consists in's neate composure, fraught
With nothing but ill face, can me [...]e, cry naught.
(As best comporting with him) then thy Muse
Might something hope, but mid'st these times abuse,
To publish ought (of good) were to suppose,
Gallants might something minde (saue their spruce clothes
Which were enough to damne theee, wherefore friend,
Henceforth, or leaue to write, or hope, or send
Thy Papers to the Counter, in whose Treasure
(Reseru'd) our Brauers with more witte, more leisure
Hereafter may peruse them, and extract
This Morall from thy worke, that as the act
Of vaine Ixyon Centaures got of Clowdes,
So vapor infaire shewe, foule Monsters shrowdes.
Sanabimur si separemur à Coetu.
R. D. Esq
Ixyon.
RAre's the Coniunction, the concordāce swee
When with endeuour, wit and Art do meet:
When true Promethean fire doth warm the braine
Then Industry lifts vp her high sung straine,
Still soares, still mounts (regardles of base things)
As high as Fame doth on her golden Wings:
But out alas, Learning and Art refuse
To shead their influence on my ruder Muse.
Nor could she euer sweetly moue her wing,
Only as Carters whistle, so I sing.
They (to delight themselues) do rudely chaunt,
And that I please my selfe, I onely vaunt.
For in all actions, mans delight him drawes,
And Appetite is senslesse of all Lawes.
Then mount low verse, to sing Ixyons Fate,
And to thy helpe, the Muses inuocate.
Yee sacred Deities, you I implore,
Whom sage Memoria bred, and nurst of yore:
Lend your assistance to my feeble scull,
With your Pierean vigor make me full.
Yee glorious Sisters of Parnassu hill,
Your holie furie into mee distill.
You, the Pegasian Fount that daily haunt,
And on the brimme do most diuinely chaunt:
Now send your Influence, and mee inspire,
Highly to sing the Iustice of your Sire.
Ixyon, (sometime) the Thessalian King,
Whose high Ambition flewe on horrid wing:
And checkt each vertuous motion that did rise,
To intercept (his bloodie enterprise)
Soone after hee his marriage rites had done,
And quite dissolu'd his wiues white virgin Zone.
Thinkes with himselfe, that well it might agree,
To keepe the fruit, and yet to burne the Tree:
The saples truncke bore on his withered top,
A sparkling Dyadem, a golden crop.
Which to possesse, Ixyon strange plots laies,
(Longing to guild his browes with borrowed raies)
The Crowne he aimes at (senseles of remorse,)
Not by the Ladders helpe, but axes force.
Nor will he by Succession hope to clime,
Nor rest content the fruits maturing time.
But ceaze it strait (regardles of all right)
Will is pure Iustice when it speake from might.
Eyoneus (that as a barre did stand,
T' Ixyons hopes) must by some polliticke hand
Be snatch't away, Ixyon plots the meanes,
His thoughts are actors in most tragicke Sceanes
And now his Genius prompteth him to warre,
On some forg'd cause to moue a publicke Iarre.
To enter King Eyoneus fertill Land
With warlike troopes, and with an armed band.
With horses hooues to furrow vp the plaine,
And sow the field with blood, in steed of Graine.
On this waites danger, his close hope replies:
So this plot quickly borne, as quickly dies.
And (like the flower of flax that fades i'th wombe)
This proiectes birth is now become it's tombe.
Because (quoth he) his daughter is my wife,
T'would blast my Fame, if I should seeke his life
By open Armes, therefore (how'ere I worke)
This is no course, my hate must closely lurke.
And t'were preposterous to wast his land,
Whose person now is (dreadles) in my hand.
Besides, I thinke this Axiom not vaine,
"They that get much by blood, but little gaine.
These thoughts (intruding thus) doe yet want might
For to extinguish his still growing spight:
But new inuentions from his braine do flow,
As fast as Iuy sprouts, or Mushromps grow.
Restles Ambition, whether do'st thou tend,
Thy still fresh Labours? to what horred end dread?
Fraught'st thou Ixyons euer-working head,
With nought but thoughts of horror, blood, and
Hee's now thy Slaue, obaies thee at each nod,
And thou (foule feend) art now become his God.
Lead on blest Saint (saith he) and still direct mee,
While thus with richest Epethites I decke thee.
Then as some Rymesters of these latter daies,
Bedawbe blacke Dowdes with brightest Angels praise
Swearing the Graces dwell within their cie,
And that each part is some pure Deitie:
So gins Ixyon to extoll his Saint,
And with rich colours this blacke peece to paint.
Thou art (quoth he) th'incyter to great deeds,
For by thy only breath our honour breeds.
Thou only doest distinguish man from beast
And lift'st whom thou possest boue the rest:
Thou tak'st from vs that Elementall earth
Nature with th'other three mixt ere our Birth
And in that roome fresh ayre thou do'st infuse
Which makes vs mount aboue the sprightly Muse
Thou art indeed that selfe-same louing fire,
Whose stealth infused in the Gods such Ire
Against Promethius: burne cleere bright flame,
To adde another title to my Name:
A single scepter cannot poize my hand,
But I'le ioyne Thrace vnto my natiue Land.
Then warme my braine with thy caelestiall fire,
For till my starres eclipse me I'le aspire,
Vsher mine actions, still make good my hate,
Eyoneus graue mounts me to best of fate.
By this the Sunne (eclip'st with dust and sweate,
B'gan in the Sea to quench his thirstie heate.
By this Apollo with descending beames,
Began to pierce the siluer sliding streames:
And (though halfe tir'de with trauaile) sprightly ran,
To drench his tresses in the Ocean.
Now that the fierie Plannet, God of Light,
Had t'ane his beames hence, and giu'n place to Night
Night with broad sable wings did fan the Sea,
Taking her rice from off the watry Lea.
And in her pitchie mantle sittes on hie,
Naild with a thousand Starres vpon the skie.
Now shine Oryon and the Pleiades,
While Phoebus rayes doe guild th' Antipodes,
And Cynthia in long disheueld haire,
With siluer Cressent doth adorne her Spheare:
Now toile-dissoluing Night with silent charmes
Welcome's Ixyon in her sable armes.
Dull Icelon hangs on their eyes like Lead,
And summons all the family to bed.
Where all enioy sweet, pleasant downy rest,
Except Ixyon whose still-troubled brest,
Cannot admit of wit-refreshing sleepe,
But with his murtherous thoughts strickt watch doth keepe.
Yet (not forgetting Hymencall rights, harme,
He hugges his wife with fained appetite. warme:
Shee gentle Queene, pure, dreadles of all
With her soft twines his hate child blood doth
And feasts him with rare Iunkets and such sweetes
In whose fruition all delights doe meete. case,
Ixyon soone, her, and himselfe doth please,
Which done, she sleeps, Delights o'retane by
Me thinkes the fruit yeelding such pleasant tast
Such liuely sweets that yet vnperish't last,
Might well extinguish that same blood-fed flame,
That i'th trees dust inter's the fellers fame.
But nought preuailes, Eyoneus needs must fall,
"No sweetes can sweeten a corrupted Gall.
For now I heare Ixyon thanke his Fate,
For meanes how to produce th'ffects of Hate
Which Night (wel suting wt his blacker (thought)
Into his minde hath firme, yet quickly brought:
And now he spends the remnant of the Night
Onely in wishing for th'approaching Light:
Yet he with horror meanes to cloud the day,
Thirstie Ambytion cannot brooke delay.
And now Aurora with flow stately pace
Distils her pearly drops on euery place.
Which Phoebus seeing (vsher'd by that Starre,
That still conducts him to his burning Carre)
Comes forth in state, to take from earth againe
What his Loue gaue, t'enrich each fertile plaine.
Ixyon riseth, and with quickest speed,
Sends to Ericthoe, whose dam'nd helpe he needs,
Strickly commanding, that she straite puruay
Some Hell-charm'd fogge to cannopie the d [...]:
And by her a Sorcerie storme to reare,
Whose noyse might make both men and Gods to feare:
Ericthoe in a Caue of Thessaly,
That vnderpin'd a lofty promontorie
Had her abiding, there no sparke of Light,
Did euer peepe, t'was there eternall Night.
Saue onely that some sparkles did arise,
From her halfe buried, euer-fiery eyes.
Her hayreles scalpe was like a statues head,
Each side with a huge elselocke furnished:
Of colour like a blacke-roane horses taile,
All which a kercher of Bats wings doth vaile:
Her facelike Mars, his front wrinkled with ire
Or parchment leaues, late scorched by the fire:
She once had teeth and lips, but truth to say,
Time now hath worne, both teeth and lips away.
Shee, scarnell backt, and hollow is her brest,
Her legges are crooked, and deform'd the rest:
All parts with one another angrie bee,
Onely her nose and chinne doe still agree,
And (louingly) do alwayes kisse each other,
Which her breath enuying with horrid smoother
Seeks to disioyne them, but yet (wanting might)
Doth onely blast both, with her cruell spight,
And makes them looke of such a swartie red,
As doth corrupted flesh by Arte made dead:
Thus liues Ericthoe, and by Sorcerie
Doth clogge the soule, with damn'd impietie.
Hold gentle Muse, do not thus loosely stray,
But with high wing trace thy proposed way:
Now draw the Curtains, and vnmaske a deede
May wonder-strike the world, and humane seede.
Ixyon (hauing to Ericthoe sent)
Salutes Eyoneus with faire complement,
And him inuites, (the Morne yet being cleere)
To hunt the sauage Bore, or timerous Deere:
And after that, be pleased to acept
A customarie thing the Auncients kept:
Which was, that euery Sonne in Lawe did giue
Gifts to his wiues Syre, and that vse did liue
Religiously obseru'd through manie ages,
Reuerenc't of all, confirm'd by learned Sages:
Those gifts (when as their sport is ended quite,
And exercise hath sharpned Appetite)
He saith hee would present him at a Feast,
Where onely hee should be his Princely Guest:
Hee condiscends, so ride they to their sport,
And for Field-game, change the delights of Court.
Scarce had the Deere bin rowzed by their hoūds
(Whose noise with Ecchoes made the hils rebound)
When blacke Ericthoe by her Sorcerie,
Had much distemperd the day-guiding Skie:
It seemd that loue, (mou'd with som noise on earth
To confound that, had giuen his Thunder breath.
For now it spake lowd (mixt with haile and raine)
And Pallid Lightning blasts the hopefull graine:
Segestaes sonne (bound by Ericthoes charme)
Now cannot keepe the windes from doing harme,
Nor yet confine them in their lowe-built Caue,
But that for passage boy strously they raue,
Forcing their freedome, with as awfull power,
As if they meant to teare their marble Tower:
And as swift Currents, long restraind from vent,
Grow rougher through their forc't imprisonmēt.
And with the clamorous roaring that they make,
Do force the Heards, the fertile Banks forsake:
Euen so the windes (rushing from forth their den)
Bring sudden terror, on amazed men:
Here Turrets tremble, there huge Steeples shake,
Some (storm-torne) tūble, most their place forsake
Strange, strong effects of a bad mixed potion,
To giue things sensles, such quick sudden motion?
Cost on faire buildings laide, was laide amisse,
For what but now had forme, a Chaos is:
The Coniurde Tempest, makes the Thickets nod, storme
(Such hellish power dwels in Ericthoes rod)
Trees, whose strength could not but oppose this
By opposition loose both life and forme:
And they that bore their tops most high,
Are now the meanest vnderneath the Skie.
Nothing but Shrubs are safe, who low in State,
Are not yet ripe for such preposterous Fate.
But yet Eyoneus, like a L [...]wrell bough
(Vntouch't, saue with the horror of this showe)
Did cheerfullie aduance his reuerent head,
Which in Ixyon most amazement bred:
For on this Storme which tooke this ample scope,
Stood the firme Bases of his bloody hope.
Whereon like a Collossus hee might stand,
(By Murther propt) and gouerne either Land:
Murther hee thinks no Sinne, knowing few frowne
On deeds (thogh nere so black, whō th'euēts crown,
And had Eyoneus here endurde the worst,
T'would haue seem'd accidentall that forc't,
And had this Tempest ruinde him and all,
What was inhumane, had seem'd naturall.
This Tempest (missing this intended wracke)
Somewhat of her late force began to slacke,
And in farre calmer termes her rage to spend,
For now Ericthoes Charme tooke solemne end.
And as a route of rude vntutor'd Hyndes,
Whose best bad senses, causelesse Furie blindes,
In mad confused manner moue some Iarre,
(Making Trade-engines instruments of Warre)
One beares an Axe, th'other a Hammer brings,
"Fury can make weapons of any thing:
And (weakely arm'd with swords) but strong in Ire,
Consume the Neighbour villages with Fire:
Knowing th'are Traytors, nought can them asswage
But on all things, they execute their rage:
Their liues being forfeit, aime at things most faire
"He that for nought cā hope, shuld noght dispaire:
Yet from the Prince, if some graue man be sent,
To promise pardon, if they be content
To cease their mutinie, and to submit
To him that weares the awfull Coronet:
At first, a busie murmur's only heard,
As if some vnknowne Stratageme they fear'd,
But (soone resolu'd) their Armes they cast away,
And in most gratefull tearms proclaime their ioy.
Euen so the windes (freed from Ericthoes Charme)
Seeme to repent their lately rash done harme,
And quietly (being manacled beneath)
Doth only Fanne the World, with mildest breath:
The Thunder husht, and Ioues late fiery fumes
Their proper Element do reassume.
The rayne's appeasde, and Iunoes Nuntius
Is to the world seene as propitious,
And in her seuerall colours richly dight,
(Arching the Skie) doth promise purer Light.
Ixyon faines himselfe with ioy orecome,
To see Eyoneus had escapt the storme,
And presently conducts him, as to take
These Spowfall gifts, where he must all forsake,
T'a Lodge, (for murther acted) thither goes,
"A fained friend's worse then ten open Foes.
There come, and seated, Ceremonious rites
Promise faire Welcome, season'd with delights:
When in deepe silence, full of expectation,
Noting Ixyons formall Celebration,
And seeming dutious zeale, Eyoneus Chaire,
Gins to sincke with him, to some lower staire:
Hee (dreadles) sits, and presently doth slippe,
Through some fewe sticks, into a fierie pitte:
Whose low, close, seruent heate, and dismall fume,
Did in an instant, his liues strength consume.
Slaues take him vp, but ere with him they rise,
His Soule (being better wing'd) was boue the Skies.
Thou most vnworthie, both of name & being,
How couldst thou act this thy vniust decreeing,
And vnder shewe of Loue (compos'd of durt)
Kill, whom a hellish storme thought Sin to hurt?
What breach of holie Hospitalitie,
Of open kindnes, and Friends loyaltie,
Hast thou herein committed? Oh these ils
Would put rough teeth, into the smoothest quils:
Hadst thou giuen notice of thy hates condition,
Or had it bene in Hostile opposition,
Lesse had thy scandall bene, but with faire face
To shrowde such deeds, is as abhord, as base.
Dissimulation! Oh, there's nothing worse,
Tis Treasons mother, of all ills the Nurse.
A false glasse to the Soule, that still presents
Things in faire formes, nere crown'd with good euents:
The fire that burnes giues warning by his flame
T'auoide the ill his pointed angles frame,
But that in ashes rak't, vnfear'd, vnseene,
Is the most dangerous minister of spleene:
The Sea whom Aeolus doth moue to anger,
Doth by some signe foretell the flowing danger:
And all things that bode perill vnto man,
Haue tokens that pregoe the hurt they can;
The Sunne (declining) tells vs t'wil be darke,
And though some curre doe bite before he barke
Yet in the spacious world was neuer found
A dog that (fawning) ere was knowne to wound;
But man that should be best, is Lord of all,
As goods, so vices to his share do fall:
For this (in knowing creatures) hath bene euer
To see the best, yet in the worst perseuer.
Vaine men that Deifide themselues, do deeme
When Tytles timpanize them, then they seeme
Like bladders puft, or like a strutting Player
(He dawb'd with kingly forme, they stuft with aire,)
And (seuer'd from the multitude by name)
Thinke they are blest with neuer dying Fame.
Yet Fame (though nere so worthily atchieu'd)
We see is or abortiue, or short liu'd,
And vnto no man any comforts brings,
But flies aboue vs with inconstant wings.
Oh why did not the Heauens by graue foresight
Ad to the windes strength their reuenging might
To ceaze Ixyon? but they are content
By sparing to increase his punishment:
And scourge him when he is in greatest state,
"Vengeance is full growne, falles in height of Fate.
Ixyon (stain'd with the rich blood he spilt)
Vntouch't in euery place, saue with his guilt,
Wisheth his Sences had not muffled bin,
To lead him blindfold to so foule a sin:
And that Eyoneus death had bene preuented,
Which as t'was quickly done, was soone repented:
Curseth his Fate, and in repentant sort
Conuaies Eyoneus breathles corpes to Court:
Where when he came, the care-bethronged Queene
Soone as her father liuelesse she had seene,
Ask't whose blacke deed that was, Ixyon strait
(Weeping) acknowledged t'was his deceit,
And what he closely acted, did reueale,
"(Murther's a Sinne no Conscience can conceale)
Which very words extinguish't her liues fire,
For at the sound thereof she did expire.
Time, that with sharpest Sithe, and purple wings
In his swift race to Dissolution brings
The great'st and worthiest monuments on earth,
Whose end is dateles, like his vnknowne birth,
Hath now with Fate so leagueally agreed,
As in Ixyon discontent to breed,
His Conscience is his scourge, he feeles thereby
A smarting fence of his impiety:
The funerall tapers that adorn'd their herse
Shall giue safe conduct to my mournfull verse,
Which (not extinct with sighes) did cleerly burne
Ouer their two-fold, timelesse, filled Vrne,
Vntill the latest obsequies were done,
And they both laid vnder one marble stone.
Ixyons cleerer iudgement then exhalde
Those mists of horror which his Sences vailde:
And gaue him leaue to looke into his Soule,
Which (charg'd with great accounts) did strait controule
All his delights on earth, they being fled,
Hop keepes him liuing, Passion strikes him dead:
And both together with their seuerall darts,
Wound and torment all his interior parts:
Hope bids him liue, and cancell care at length,
But in meane time his Care consumes his strength
Vnmarroweth his bones, vnsappes his vaines,
And keepes him full of disagreeing paines:
And thus he liues in deepest passions drown'd,
His present griefes all future Ioyes confound:
All men abhorre him for his ill vrg'd gall,
"He is most wretched, none lament at all.
And thus (accompanied by none but griefe)
He leaues his kingdome like a midnight thiefe,
And like a wanderer straies about the earth,
Cursing his Fate, exclaiming on his birth:
Wishing that day wherein he first drew breath
Had by his funerall proclaim'd his death,
That when he crept out of his mothers wombe
H'had (wailed) gon into his latest Tombe,
And then a sullen silence in him breeds
He only with his teares his sorrow feeds:
Still they distill apace yet are not don,
His eyes are springs that neuer cease to run:
One drop, anothers roome doth strait supplie,
Yet nere exhaust's the current of his eye:
At last his griefe with care his brest o're-fraughts,
Thē (tirde with thinking thus, he vents his thoughts:
Furrow my cheekes salt teares, plow vp your way,
You are a tribute that mine eyes must pay:
In time the deaw of Heauen doth pierce the flint,
And you should run till you haue made a dint
On either cheeke, nor then should take your rest
But with moist offerings keepe them still possest:
You did direct me in my crueltie,
Therefore I'le drowne you both vntill you die:
Which since my teares (your naturall rhewme) refuse
Deepe sighes Ile make tempestuous to that vse,
The which shall neuer cease till you they wracke,
But moue rough billows on my teares smooth backe:
But whence proceeds this childish idle flood?
Whence? from lasting crime of shedding blood:
Which to wipe off, I striue with as vaine hope
As they that hourely wash an Aethiope:
Nor all the Scas i'th world (though on me spilt)
Yet could not clense me of his leapours guilt:
Then why do these slight drops fall from mine eie?
To feede my griefes Lamps that would else be drie:
Oh that contrition, offerings, or these teares
(Selfe conquering trophies which my sorrow beares)
Or all that is, or may deuised bee,
To make a guiltie Soule with peace agree,
Could but redeeme the Glory I haue lost,
How would my Soule (though euer weeping) boast?
But none of these can e're inter my shame,
(Now King) of nothing but a large defame
Which will liue euer, and wax huger still,
"Report doth (going) growe of good or ill:)
Nor set me in my pristine Innocence,
"There is no sting like that of Conscience:
Yet these (though bootles) here I vow to spend,
Till Time conspire with Fate to worke mine end.
These and the like from a vast Sea of woes
That in Ixyons guiltie brest still flowes
He still repeates, and carelesly doth stray,
"He that is poore, is ne're out of his way:
At last with wearie limbes, and bared sealpe
He in's progression mounts the frozen Alpes,
And (by dispaire) almost to madnes drouen
His long neglected hands he reares to Heauen,
And (wanting meanes for other sacrifice)
Thus on his knees bespake the Deities:
Yee still-agreeing powers, emptie of Iarres,
That in your daily motion tread on Starres,
You that o're looke this our terrestriall Ball,
Whose influence giues forme and life to all,
You that in Characters, subscrib'de by Fate,
Record the worlds vast frame, and vtmost date,
Oh let a mortalls prayers, and teares intreate
Safe passe for some fewe words, to Ioues high seate,
And when (clad all in ayre) they mount on high,
Be pleas'd dread powers, to let them pierce the skie
Great sonne of Saturne, euerliuing Ioue,
By whose permission euery thing doth moue,
Eternall essence that with awfull mace
Doest rule all things in Heauen, and humane race,
Whose onely smile can saue, or frowne cā spoyle,
Whose very breath doth make the Ocean boyle,
Whose euery action filles the world with wonder
Whose eies dart Lightning, & whose voice is Th [...],
Whose glorious Throne the Zodiacke vnderbaries
That out-shin'st all, clad in thy roabe of Starr [...]s.
Oh if a man, whose guilt speakes in his face,
VVhose Sins exclude from all good hope of grace
May dare attempt, with blood-polluted hands
To touch thy Pedestell, whereon there stands
VVrought by diuine Art, such a world of Glory,
As to all worlds shall be an ample story:
Then et Ixyon (rich in nought but shame,
And all the adiuncts to a vast defame)
VVith teares petitionarie thee desire,
To purge his Sins with thine immortall fire,
Clense what's corrupt, make pure what is most fowle
And of my speckled, make a glorious Soule:
The more my Sin, the greater is thy Fame,
If thou do purge it with thy hallowed flame:
VVill not you christall stellified gate
Ope, and with milde aspect adorne my Fate?
Heare me dread Ioue, or if thou wilt not heare,
Yet take some notice of these penitent teares,
Could my tongue speak as loud as doth my Sinne
With my shril praiers ere now, th'adst rowzed bin:
Yet still ile pray, and with my dismall cries,
Fan ope thy Glories Curtaine, the blew Skies,
And till my sinnes with mercie be commixt,
A kneeling liuing Statue here be fixt.
At this th'appeased Heauens began to smile,
And this great Deitie that had all this while
With an attentiue care obseru'd the prayers
Ixyon spent, his penitence and teares:
(Prompted by pittie) doth resolue once more
To make Ixyon happier then before:
And for his kingdomes losse, hee meanes to giue
A place of residence, where hee shall liue.
Mating himselfe (aboue i'th arched Skie,
There sporting with the Gods eternallie:)
To this great worke, hee summons instantly
His Sonne, and Herald (winged Mercury)
With his gold plumes throgh th'aire to make quick flight,
And be a welcome Nuntius to this wight:
Inioyning Hermes on the Alpes t'appeare,
(From whence Ixyons prayer pierc't his care)
And whom he found there (weeping in Dispaire)
To Vsher him through the yeelding aire:
VVhat needed more to him of wit that's God?
To'th wise one word's enough, to him Ioues nod:
Hermes with speed quicker then thought of mind
Lights on the Alpes, as was by Ioue assign'd,
And there (with hands vpreard) Ixyon found
Kneeling, his knees euen growne vnto the ground:
VVhō (when he sees) he with his rod him charmes,
Bids him be dreadlesse of all future harmes,
And fro the cold earth (moystned with his teares)
To rise and follow him emptie of feares:
(VVhich said) through th'aire his siluer Rod hee moues,
And executed so the will of Ioue
Ixyon now aboue in Heauen is plac't,
VVelcom'd by Iupiter, and by him grac't,
And now Ixyon would my Muse might leaue thee,
But of that hope, thy worst Fate doth bereaue me:
Hadst bene contented when thou wert so blest
Th'adst still bene happie, and my Muse tane rest:
But thy Ambition causde thy so great fall,
And that of all ills is originall.
But why taxe I thee for such losse of glory,
That dare with so young Muse attempt thy story?
I should haue left it to some learned Pen
That had bene deeply steept in Hippochrene:
As thou in thy attempt, I must fall too,
Though my fall cannot be so great, and low:
Yet were my ruine iust as neere as thine,
Tis honour t'haue attempted things diuine:
Then on my Muse in this thy forward race,
Vsher thy seruant with thy best of grace
To end this little worke, and heere I sweare
Some worthie Trophie to thy name Ile reare.
Ixyon (seated thus by Ioues consent)
Saw those most enuyed were most eminent,
For his great height did in some Gods infuse
A kinde of hate, which yet they durst not vse:
First Icelon, cause from him hee extorted
Much time, which he with so blacke thoghts consorted,
Next Aeolus, for by a Witches rod
H'had made him seeme a Tyrant and no God:
Hymen was also swolne with much despight,
Because his holy Lawes he so did slight:
Rhamnusia inly vext, and much did rue,
Because her punishment, which was his due
Was not (as yet) inflicted on his head,
That was by Vice into such horror led:
In others (too) much spleen which knowne to Ioue
Hee with his frowne doth checke, and so remoue.
Thus by the Gods, finding this sweete reliefe,
Purg'd of his Crime, as also of the griefe
His Crime brought on him, he begins to swell,
Mans highest rice is neerest steppe to Hell:
For now Ixyon doth reteine no sence
Of his late guilt, or sting of Conscience:
But as a Letcher in the Surgions cure,
Vowes (if once well) to be no more impure,
And sweares hee'le neuer clippe his Whore againe,
(And meanes so too, as long as hee feeles paine)
Yet is no sooner cured of his harmes,
But hee strait leapes into his Harlot, armes:
Euen so Ixyon (purged from this sin)
To attempt a greater farre doth thus begin:
Ioues wife and Sister, whether by her eye
Or by the power of Cupids Deitie,
I'le not distinguish, strooke him so in loue,
As to Heauens Queene, his Lust-suite hee durst moue:
And (warm'd with much more then Prometheā fire)
Iuno hee courts to sate his leaud desire:
Oh the vnbounded Lust, and pride of Man,
That in their bloods height no one reason scan,
But abuse fauours that haue them rewarded,
Nor p [...]ritie of States is then regarded,
Princes neglected, nay the Gods profan'de
To get a pleasure lost, e're fully gain'd:
For Reasons light, cleere as the lampe of day,
Shines in each Roome of this our house of clay,
Saue those that serue our lust, and they are left,
Of all but sensuall appetite bereft:
No light shines there, and Poets workes importune,
Our Lust makes vs more blind then they faine fortune
Ixyons heate keepes him from being mute,
And prompts him thus to moue his loathed sute:
Immortall greatnes, Deitie most pure,
Whose name, and glory euer shall endure:
Vouchsafe to what I here present in feare,
To lend a willing, and a gratious care:
Nor let my boldnes any anger moue,
Since faults are no faults, that are done by Loue:
From stile of all presumption, that doth free
My great attempt, my suite, my name and mee:
The Gods haue lai'd aside their great estate,
To court faire Shepheardesses, Loue and Fate
Are aboue all, Loue raignes in euery part,
Mars (clad in armes) was wounded by his dart:
And as his power can take from Gods, euen so
It can adde worth to vs that are belowe:
Then by this rule I'me worthy of thy Loue,
Made great by that which hath abased Ioue:
Which let me but possesse (perfections Queene)
And I'le be dreadles of your husbands spleene:
Nor shall his Cyclops in me possions moue,
"The flames of Aetna match not those of Loue:
And neuer shame with me to act Loues deed,
Since Gods haue often mixt with humane seed.
At this th'incensed Queene, whose siluer brow,
Beautie and Dread (in seuerall formes) did show:
In an amazed maiestie thought good,
To cure with Vengeance this disease a'th blood:
Yet knowing in Ioues thoughts he sat so high,
Omitt's reuenge, and makes this sharpe reply:
And is this then the tribute that you pay,
To him breath'd Heauenly fire in earthly clay?
Are these the offerings due vnto his shrine,
That did thy clew of miserie vntwine,
And when Dispaire sat heauie on thy brest
Remou'd thy torments, gaue thy sorrowes rest▪
Hath then great Ioue, (my dreaded Lord and brother
In pardoning one sin, thus produc't another?
This then I see for truth shall still endure,
'Pittie in Gods makes men to sinne secure:
I'le answere thee as once Latena did,
Her nightly wandering daughter, that vnhid
Doth with her virgin body Lampe darke night,
Once grieu'd to be so seene to humane sight,
She of her mother presently requested
To be with some rich proper roabe inuested,
Which she might euer weare to hide her shame,
Preserue her modestie, and secure her fame:
Latona wisely answered againe,
That thy request is idle, fond and vaine;
For sometime th'art so big, no robe can hide thee,
Sometime so little, we can scarce espie thee:
Then since thou art so subiect vnto change,
Thou 'bout the Zodiacke still shalt naked range:
And that's the cause Luna abhorres the light,
And ne're is seene to vs but in the Night:)
Thou (more then she her forme) do'st change thy minde,
Thy vast desires are in no bounds confin'de:
Sometime thy thoughts are humble as the earth
Which thou wert made of, and which gaue thee birth,
Sometime (as now) thou do'st as vainly swell,
As he that for his pride was cast to Hell:
Then what one thing can fit thy disposition,
That's of so strange and various a condition?
From thy abhorred Lust I will be free,
As she her daughter, so I'le answere thee:
Which is immoueable, cease to dispute,
Luna could get no gowne, nor thou thy suite.
Yet (saith Ixyon) heare me e're you go,
Let not cold chastitie benumne you so:
As to contemne my loue, be my Loues mate,
Though not to crowne my loue, to quite your hate:
'le not desist for this your first reply,
Who (faintly) craues, instructeth to denie:
Know mightie Queene, Ioue doth you so much wrong,
As y'are not iust, if you Reuenge prolong:
Changing himselfe into a golden shower
He did force ope Acrisius brazen tower
To enioy Danae, and on her begot,
One that by's valour did race out the blot
His bastard birth brought on him, like a Bull,
He with Europa made his pleasure full:
In a Swans shape, on Laeda he begot
Two, two-fold eggs, in one of which were shut
The fatall sparkes that set the brand on fire,
Which in Troyes raines did to'th clouds aspire:
These are the meanest of his lustfull Scapes,
Made monstrous by the many seuerall Rapes
He hath besides committed, and can you then
Be lesse vindictiue then we silly men?
Our blood mixt with our gall, doth inly boyle,
To act reuenge we doe refuse no toyle:
But to all dangers do our liues expose,
Of priuate Treasons, and of publike foes:
Delight shall vsher yours (renowned Queene)
Pleasure shall crowne Reuenge, and sweeten spleene:
That with your selfe you shall dispute at leisure,
Whether were sweetest, your reuenge, or pleasure.
Know selfe-abusing man (Iuno replies)
Thou art too base to mixe with Deities:
Yet wert thou each way worthy of my Loue,
Or could there be a greater power then Ioue?
With notes more sweet then musick of the Spheares,
To charme my Sences, or delight mine eares:
All should not moue me, loyall I'le remaine,
"Vnlawfull pleasure, brings a lawfull paine:
Thou that do'st sugar poison, and do'st say,
Reuenge is pleasant, there will come a day
When with bedewed cheeks thy selfe shalt tell,
"Reuenge on earth, buies a Reuenge in Hell:
From Ioues dread will, my thoughts shall neuer start,
"Reuenge is treason in a subiects hart:
I am his Subiect, so more Honour lies
In bearings wrongs, then quitting iniuries.
Which said, with stately speed from him she moues,
To tell Ixyons Lust and Pride to Ioue,
Which he alreadie knew, and was inuenting,
To plague Ixyon with some strange tormenting.
That might into his very Soule intrude,
And wound him deepe for his Ingratitude,
And now the more Ixyon to annoy,
Hee'le first delude, and afterward destroy:
An emptie cloude he fashions like his wife
Induing it with beautie, forme, and life,
So like as hee himselfe for once did misse,
And did the cloud in steed of Iuno kisse:
With this same seeming, Iuno he presents,
Lust-fraught Ixyon, who with an intent
Not to it the least accent to afford,
(Knowing they'le do the deed, deny the word)
Silent he hastes vnto this borrowed shape,
As did the Byrds t' Apelles painted grapes;
But with more appetite, and bold intrusion,
They did scarce, touch, hee tastes of this delusion,
And ioyfully hee doth himselfe beguile,
Since the true frowne was now a fained smile:
In vtmost height of Lust, and amorous twines,
He clippes this seeming Iuno, that now shines
Bright in his thoughts, as t'vs the eye of Day,
When (clad in flames) bee trottes the milky way:
For in this act of Lust hee much doth toyle,
But selfe-consuming Lampes, that want their oyle
Must leaue their wished light, "sated Desire
"Is like the Glowormes vneffectuall fire:
But yet Ixyon on this seeming Faire,
(Which was indeed nought but delusiue aire)
Begot the Centaures, that rebeld gainst Ioue:
The mixture monstrous, so th'effect did proue:
But of Ixyons issue, write who will,
Monsters in minde (not Nature) moue my quill,
This act of lust and Horror ended thus,
Ioue (brooking ill a man so vitious
As was Ixyon should in Heauen remaine,
In Iustice fixt him on the earth againe:
Thus hee that (purg'd) among the Gods did liue,
May now on earth such losse of Glory grieue,
And euer mourne to beare so great a crosse
"We truly nere taste ioy, but by the losse,
Which yet hee cannot rellish, his dull tast
Is like one's forc't to feed that feedes his last,
And can no whit distinguish (wanting power)
But thinks what's bitter sweet, & what sweet sower:
Hee hauing clipt this shape of eminence,
Applaudes the act in his deluded sence,
And (swolne with glory of so great a deed)
Proclaimes Heauens-Queene a whoore, to humane seed,
Vowing to Iupiter hee was vniust,
And that her brests were pillowes to his Lust,
That hee in heate had clipt that world of wonder
In spight of Ioue, and his three-forked Thunder:
Which to reuenge, Ioue with his Lightning strooke,
This birth-curst monster to Hells lowest nooke,
And makes him there this heauie torment feele,
Euer to turne a neuer-resting Wheele:
Which to his Oblique sence, his crime doth shew
In Serpents Charracter'd vnto his view,
Which as he turnes, he reades, and euer turnes,
And round about the poysonous Sulphur burnes:
Tha'rt in a place where thou must euer bee,
Frō whence no Time or Fate can euer rescue thee:
For when on earth no man shall haue a brother,
And th'Elements shall one deface each other.