A CHAIN OF GOLDEN POEMS Embellished with WIT, MIRTH, and ELOQUENCE. Together with two most excellent COMEDIES, (viz.) The OBSTINATE LADY, AND TRAPPOLIN Suppos'd a PRINCE: Written by Sr Aston Cokayn.
LONDON, Printed by W. G. and are to be sold by Isaac Pridmore, at the Golden-Falcon near the New-Exchange. 1
THE AUTHORS APOLOGY TO THE READER.
THese poor trifles (courteous Reader) had not now become so troublesome to the World, if it had been in my [Page] power to have prevented them: for at my going once out of London, I left them with a friend of mine, who dying, they were dispersed into divers hands. Mr. William Godbid got my Obstinate Lady, and though he found it with the last leaf torn out, wherein my conclusion to the play with the Epilogue were; he procured some acquaintance of his to supply the defect at the end, and so Printed it. And though that Comedy, be very much of it writ in number, he put it forth as if the most part of it were prose. Here you have that defect much amended, and my own conclusion and Epilogue added. I was fearful my Trappolin, and other Poems should have run the like [Page] misfortune; and therefore made a diligent enquiry after them, and when I had found them out could not get them delivered without parting with some money, and promising my honest friend Mr. W. Godbid, (after I had afforded them some small correction) I would bestow them on him, (with my consent) for the Press: For indeed without his (assistance) I should not have recovered them out of a Gentlemans hands whom I will forbear to name. I hope there is nothing in the whole so amorous as to arrive at impiety, yet nevertheless could I have imagined them worthy the trouble of transcription, you will find many things here that had been omitted. After this general Apologie I must [Page] also make my excuse for some particular pieces. I have been demanded by some Persons of Quality and judgement, why in my copy of Verses before Mr. Fletchers volume of Plaies, I chiefly reflect upon the Mad Lover, my noble friend and kinsman Mr. Charles Cotton, sent me that single Play in a Manuscript, which I had divers years in my hands: therefore when I found the Players were prohibited to act, I writ those poor Verses with an intention to have had the Mad Lover printed single, and them to have waited on it; (which when the large Volume came forth) my Cosin Cotton commanded from me, and gave the Printers. Next, I must acknowledge I have been merry with [Page] Mr. James Strong and his pretty Pamphlet. But seeing many thus make as bold with him, I presumed I might take the same liberty. I must only request the chastwomen of Lin, to take no offence at these Verses, I intended them none; if there be any of dissolute life in that town, let those be accounted of as his Joanes and no other: I hope James Strong is of Coriats gentle disposition, and will endure jesting with, otherwise (at his leisure) he hath my leave to be as pleasant with me. Some few things that I translated out of Latin and Italian, I have not inserted, as accounting them too wanton to breath in this chaster clime: and in truth if any body (either through curiosity, or by any other [Page] accident) should english any such pieces, it will be esteemed a discretion in them to forbear publishing them.
Lastly, I have made some progress into a Play, to be called the Tragedy of Ovid, which (if my Obstinate Lady, and Trappolin take) I may be encouraged to perfect, and present to you hereafter, with some other things that are not yet put into method, fit for the Press, if you be not cloid with these small Poems already, and hate a farther surfeit upon such toyes: If this book hath the fortune to attain to a second impression, you may then hear farther from me: and in the [Page] mean, while this is enough from
Your servant ASTON COKAIN
TO HIS NOBLE FRIEND Sir ASTON COKAIN on his Poetical composures.
SIr, though I cannot on such praises hit,
As well may suit the wardrobe of your wit,
Rich and repleat; yet give me leave to aim,
And light my I'aper at your Delphick flame.
But how should such a dazeled sence as mine,
(Lost in high-waies of Excellence divine)
See to pass judgements on your lines aright,
That seem all g [...]ded with Phoebaean light
From your rich brain effus'd, that to the skie
Rightly conformes in clear sublimity?
I almost should have thought your nimbler soul
Had fire from Heaven, like fly Prometheus, stole;
But that whereas accursed plagues he brought,
Wherewith Pandora's box was sadly fraught,
You with choice things have blest us, such as be
Treasures of wit, art, language, history.
How strangely winds your fancy here and there!
Like to your Anchor, built with streams more clear
[Page] That glide along as if they long'd to see
Themselves ingulft in vast eternity.
Surely you drew from noble birds of Po
Those numerous sweetnesses that ravisht so;
And from rich Naples and renowned Rome
Brought forth fine courtship and choice learning home.
Your Muse (impregnate with no common worth)
Thus travail'd for a fame, and brought it forth:
Whose issue he that envies, let him hear
(Like Phrygian Midas) with a lengthn' deare
Nothing but scornes shot at him sundry waies,
Yet take those pellets for a charge of praise.
Kick at such currish slaves, nor think them fit
To pick up at your chair the crumbs of wit;
But think, whilst other Muses seem to dance
After your measures, they your praise advance.
Needs must those wits or harsh or heavy be,
That move not at your strokes of harmony.
Tho. Bancroft.
Faults escaped in [...]e printing, are thus to be corrected.
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From page 208, to page 257, the figure of one hundred is left out, which (supposing Printed) the Errata's following are thus to be amended.
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SMALL POEMS OF DIVERS SORTS.
A Remedy for Love.
THat which the Sulmo Poet sung, again
I do declare, but in a chasier strain.
Of all the sisters that do sport upon
The bifront hill, and Phocion Helicon,
Thou unto whom this task doth most belong,
Conduct my pen, & guide my faultering tongue:
Give me a cup of the Castalian spring,
That Remedy I may more sweetly sing:
And sacred Phoebus, patron of the Nine,
And God of Physick, thy assistance joyn.
[Page 2] Henceforth no poor Inamorato shall
Be accessary to his Funerall.
Wherefore should mighty Turnus fall beneath
The hand of Anchisiades in death?
'Tis shame that Dido should despair and die,
Because the Trojan will from Carthage flie.
Wherefore should Phillis for Demophoons stay
With her own Girdle take her life away?
And why in Phoebus Temple should decease
For his fair Dardan Lass Aeasides?
If any of these had but view'd our lines
Surely they would have been of other minds.
If Clytemnestra had this Poem read,
She had not done great Agamemnon dead,
For vile Aegistus sake; nor had his son
By hers, reveng'd the Kings destruction.
If Paris Alexander had but seen
This work, he had not stole the Spartan Queen:
And Ilions gorgeous Towers yet had stood,
And fam'd Scamander never drunk the bloud
Of those couragious Princes that there dide,
To rescue and keep back Atrides bride.
If me (brave Achelous) thou hadst known,
Alcides thee had never overthrown.
If Alcumena's glorious son had view'd
This Poesie, the fatall shirt embrew'd
With poison, and the Centaures bloud, had lain
Useless, and he on Oeta not been slain.
I wish that Tereus had read us over,
For then he had not been a bloudy lover,
[Page 3] Nor had transfigur'd been. All these I could
Have made more staid then Matrons grave and old.
But such like ends hereafter none shall know:
For we will slack the Paphian Archers bow.
Wherefore (untoward Boy) art thou severe
To those that gladly would thy yoke hold dear,
If thou wouldst grant them such felicity,
That whom they do affect they might enjoy:
And that their hearts should never entertain
Such darts as lawless passions would constrain?
I will not be too difficult to follow
My Rules, though they be true they shall be shallow:
All you therefore that love in vain, or where
You should not, give unto my precepts ear.
And gentle Ladies, you whose tender hearts
Have felt the force of conquering Cupids darts;
Suffering in vain the burthen of his yoke,
Attend, and your affections Ile provoke:
For almost all my documents will prove
(If you apply them) Remedies of Love;
For what I write to men, you also may
Make use of, your own passions to allay:
Perform but my Injunctions, and you shall
From all your fond desires be loosed all:
Know happy liberty again, and throw
Contempt on them that no regard would show.
Here many Remedies we write, that all
Of Liberty may us Physician call:
One mind doth not possess all men, therefore
Our art of Antidotes doth publish store.
[Page 4] Perhaps at first these Remedies may seem
Too difficult for you to follow them:
A new back'd horse grieves greatly at the bit,
But quickly after will away with it:
Likewise the Oxen do at first conceive
The yoke intolerably full of grief.
I do not bid you, if you can obtain,
A meritorious mistress to refrain:
Our purpose is to quench base flames, and such
As vainly burn; but honest not to touch.
If you have been where you have seen a Lass
Whose marv'lous beauty your subjection was,
Or whose admired qualities prevail'd
So far, that they obtain'd when they assail'd:
Think when you are retir'd, if you can win
Her to your suit, which if you can, therein,
If it be good, persist, if not, proceed
To put in practice what you here shall read.
Be willing to perform what I do sing,
And thee from Cnidos there is hope to bring.
Not Podalirius, nor Machaon can
Unbridle the affections of a man;
Nor shield Apollo's son: none but himself
Can unto him again restore his health.
What should be done I can but onely show,
Which is you slight, your self is your own foe.
Now leave to love▪ and do not (fondling) say
To morrow you'l begin, and not to day.
The longer you affect the more you burn,
And therefore finding her too coy, return.
[Page 5] Doth not time make the little twig a tall
Advanced tree, shading the humble vale?
Will not a Current which one here may stride
Below, for such a passage be too wide?
And the small seeds which in the fields are sown,
Unto high corn are they not quickly grown?
Strongly shun idleness; take that away,
And Cupids bow breaks, and his lamps decay.
A standing water daily putrifies;
But that is fresh which through a channel hies.
As much as fishes do in streames delight;
As much as Bats affect the silent night:
So much contented Venus is with ease,
For that the Fountain is of this disease.
His Souldiers, the Wagge, the Idle makes,
And all the busie as his fomen hates.
By labour thou maist cure thee of this trouble,
Which unto thee will bring a profit double:
And though a sedentary life some hold
To be an easie way, to grow in old
It is a busie course, as they shall find,
That study and employ their brains and mind:
And thousand nights and dayes they must bestow
In learning, that deep Scholars mean to grow▪
Yet 'tis a pleasing toyl; knowledge being known,
Full recompence for th' Acquisition.
Keep one of our two Universities,
And closely there thy knowledge make to rise
By daily studies; Cambridge our dear Mother,
Fair Albions eldest birth; or else the other,
[Page 6] Her sister Oxford; Places far renown'd
For Education, and nobly crown'd
By sweet-tongu'd Poets with eternal bayes,
Fully deserv'd by their melodious laies.
Or if thou pleasest, unto London go.
(Corruptedly from Lud [...]-town called so)
The seat of English Monarchs, and the grave
Of more then any, since Norman valour gave
It unto William (Harold being slain)
And the Realme from the Saxons took again.
There into one of her four Innes withdraw
Thy self, and seriously go study Law.
Or be a Souldier, and maintain his right,
Whose cause is just, so thou may'st justlier fight;
Though wise Ulysses had a beautious wife,
And chaste, and young, he led a souldiers life:
Had she a proud disdainful mistress bin,
Frown'd on his services and scorn'd him;
You may conceive he then would sooner far
Have left, and slighted her, and gone to th' war.
Or lead a Countrey life, where far from noise,
Pride of the Court, and City-vanities,
Thou may'st enjoy thy self sweet days and nights,
And spend thy time in harmlesser delights.
There thou maist hunt, or hawk, plant, graff, & find
Thousand diversions for thy troubled mind.
The noblest Romans many times would leave
Their spendent City, and in th' Countrey live:
Augustus self (when it was at the height)
Forsook it, and in Caprae did delight.
[Page 7] If that the Lyrick Horace had liv'd at home
In his own Countrey-house, and kept from Rome,
Perhaps he from's fond passions had been free,
As the chaste Virgin Anaxarete.
If there thou spendest all the day in royle,
In wonted fire at night thou wilt not broyle:
For then sweet sleep you onely will request,
That after wearinesse you may have rest.
Travelling is a proved Antidote,
Whereby a double profit may be got.
I do not give thee counsel to subdue
Thy passions by sailing unto Peru:
Neither advise I thee to pass the seas,
To take a view of the Pyramides:
Nor into Italy where Romans old
The Scepter of the Universe did hold:
Nor into Spain, where John of Gaunt, the Duke
Of Lancaster such battailes undertook:
Nor into France, which our fifth Henry won,
And when he died left to his infant-son,
Who what his great victorious sire did gain,
Piece-meal to Charles the seventh did lose again.
The journey I enjoyn will not enforce
Thee to take shipping, but to ride an horse:
For will not England be sufficient
To cure thy wound, and to produce content?
Travel it through; but take along with thee
A friend or two to bear thee company.
I do not bid thee to go up and down,
Through every Village, and through every Town:
[Page 8] Onely the best and notedst places view;
Whereof unto thee I will name a few.
To Troynovant, now called London, ride,
By new fair buildings daily beautifide,
And great resort of people; There thou maist
See how the Thames under a Bridge doth hast
Of nineteen Arches; Th [...]t so fair an other,
And strangely built, is scarce all Europe over.
There thou maist see the famous Monuments
Of our Heroes, fram'd with large expence:
There thou upon the Sepulchre maist look
Of Chaucer, our true Ennius, whose old book
Hath taught our Nation so to Poetize,
That English rythmes now any equalize;
That we no more need envy at the straine
Of Tiber, Tagus, or our neighbour Seine.
There Spencers Tomb thou likewise maist behold▪
Which he deserved, were it made of gold:
If, honour'd Colin, thou hadst liv'd so long,
As to have finished thy Faery Song,
Not onely mine, but all tongues would confess,
Thou hadst exceeded old Maeonides.
Thence unto Canterbury take thy way,
Famous for being our chief Arch-Bishops sea:
Where thou maist see the ruines of the Tombe
Of that great Prelate, who whilom in Rome
Complained of his Soveraign, and did stand
Boldly himself alone 'gainst all the Land.
Dover is worthy of thine eyes, from whence
Thou maist see Calice lost no long time since
That did again the Roman faith prefer.
Afterwards into Surry go, where you
Five of our Monarchs Palaces may view;
And Okam that renowned Village, were
William was born, the deep Philosopher,
Sur-named from his birth-place, whose divine
Wit is observ'd by Nations transmarine.
To Hant-shire, Winchester doth thee intreat,
A journey to vouchsafe the ancient seat
Of the West Saxon Kings, where thou may'st turn
Thine eyes upon Canutus royal urn.
From thence (if thou art of a noble race)
To Totnes ride, Brutus his Landing-place;
A gallant branch of Anchisiades
Flying from Italy through unknown seas.
In Somerset-shire travel to the Bath,
A place frequented much because it hath
Waters for many a sickness good; yet I
Believe none there can cure loves malady.
And upon Glassenbury Abby daine
To look, where our Crow-fam'd King was slain,
And Joseph; and upon the Hawthorn-tree,
On Christmas-day that blossoms annually.
Wilt-shires Cathedral Church is of such price,
That worthily it doth deserve thine eyes:
Wherein as many windows do appear,
As there be dayes in the divided year:
Wherein the Marble pillars parallel
The hours that in four quarters one may tell.
[Page 10] And lastly where as many gates vouchsafe
Entrance, as moneths a year completely hath;
In Bark-shire unto Windsor Castle ride,
By British Arthur whiles re-edified:
Which glorious Castle at one time detain'd
Two captive Kings by our third Edward gain'd:
And in whose Chappel those two Monarchs are
Interr'd, that toyl'd us with intestine war.
Saint Edmonds Bury is frequented much,
Because that thereabouts the air is such:
Unto that town a journey take, and thence
To Ipswich go, by Danish violence
Sack'd and made desolate, but now so brave
That (through 't be none) we worser Cities have.
Although the King of the East Angles did
Reside at Thetford, yet I do not bid
Thee see it: Lyn and Yarmouth more invite
Thine eyes, but Norwich most deserves thy sight;
Norfolk▪ chief glory, wherein rustick Ket
For the commotion died he did beget.
And take a view of Cambridge, wherein I
Compos'd this Poem for thy Remedy.
Hail honour'd Mother! O vouchsafe so much,
That worthless I may thee a little touch,
Englands bright and right eye! now honour'd more
Then famous Athens was in dayes of yore,
Accept my wish. May all thy sources be
For ever ignorant of vacancie:
And thou arise unto that height of fame
That none comparatively may Oxford name:
[Page 11] Which soon would come to pass, if that our King
Would end what our sixth Henry did begin.
Trinity Colledge (unto which I do
For my own education my self owe)
Invites thee to behold a spacious Court
And what it is, afterwards to report:
That Royal Fabrick rais'd by him that died
By Crook-backs hands, and is so magnified,
For that strange roof, will doubtless thee invite
(Within the walls) of it to take a sight.
For Colins sake (who hath so well exprest
The vertues of our Faery Elves, and drest
Our Poesie in suth a gallant guise)
On happy Pembroke-Hall employ thine eyes.
Oxford our other Academy, you
Full worthy must acknowledge of your view:
Here smooth-tongu'd Drayton was inspired by
Mnemosynes's manifold progenie;
And Sydney (honour'd by all English men)
In Castalie here dip'd his numerous pen.
From Oxford go to Gloster, and from thence
To sumptuous Bristow, whose magnificence
For building every stranger much admires;
A City situated in two shires.
Kenchesters Phoenix, Hereford behold:
And Marcley hill whose motion is so told.
In Worcesters Cathedral Church you may
King Johns white Marble Monument survey.
And Arthurs sad Jet Tomb, the eldest son
Of him that Bosworth field from Richard won.
[Page 12] Thither a journey make. Then Coventry
That by Godiva gained liberty,
Be sure to visit; where at Gofford gate,
Hangs a Boars bone that some do wonder at.
See Peterborough Minster: And the
Leicest.
placeWhich second Henry did so much deface,
For Earl Bossus Rebellion. Lincolne grown
Far into Age, a City whilome known
More populous and great, do not pass by;
The Minster in it merits any eye.
Nor suffer fair and pleasant Notingham,
(Where the great Mortimer by those that came
Thorow a vault, was taken with the Queen)
By any means by thee to be unseen.
Thence unto Darby (for your Authors sake,
A Native of that Shire) a journey take:
Where in a Black-pot of renowned Ale
Drink unto me, wishing I may prevail
So far in Poetry, that my lov'd name
May be preserved by an endless fame.
Here Melborne Castle stood, wherein the Duke
Of Burbon was kept prisoner, bravely took
In Agincourts great Battel, wherein we
Conquered by a double policy.
Repton a station was to glorious Rome,
And yields unto a Saxon King a Tomb.
At Burton (in the Peak) nine Springs break out
Within a little compass, wondrous thought,
Because that eight of them are warm, and one
As if it were under the frigid Zone.
[Page 13] Here likewise are two Caves, whereof one doth
To stones turn water-drops that hang at th' roof:
The other (of which strange reports are told)
The Devils Arse is called. These behold,
And Elden Hole, which had Aenaeas seen,
He would have thought the way to Hell had been,
And the renown'd Elysium shades; for this
(To humane search) remaines yet bottomless.
Stafford-shire (Trents producer) Lichfield doth
Adorn, and Shrop-shire Shrewesbury: See both.
On (Dublins opposite) Westchester look,
Wherein of eight Kings Edgar homage took.
York-shire a City hath, our best but one,
And a strange water that turns wood to stone▪
Kingstone on Hull a fine Town is, and which
Then many of our Cities is more rich.
Kendall that by the River Cane doth stand,
(Famous for cloth) is chief of Westmorland.
Doubtless in Cumberland, Carleil by far
Is the most eminent: See what these are.
Upon New-Castle builded somewhat nigh
Severus wall, lastly imploy thine eye.
What ever City it may be, or Town
Your Mistresse makes her habitation,
You must avoid it, and let no pretence
Occasion be of your not going thence:
No business you must value that may be
A prejudice to your recovery.
But you to leave your Mistresle may suppose
A misery below the depth of woes.
[Page 14] Were but your body hurt you would endure
Fire, and Iron to hasten on your cure:
Or were you sick, & abstinence could gain
Your health, from plentuous meals you would refrain,
And though a thirst even seem to burn you, yet
You would abstain from drink, and bridle it:
And now to cure your mind, and draw the dart
Of angry Cupid from your festring heart,
You startle and recoil: For shame be bold,
And the mind's health above the bodie's hold.
If you can pick a cause that may produce
Dislike of your coy Lasse, thereof make use.
Ill's sometime neighbour unto good: For so▪
Vertue (by errour) oft for vice doth go.
Judge all things in your Mistress at the worst,
For why should you be kind to her that's curst?
If she be big made, eas'ly her esteem
A match befitting monstrous Polypheme.
Is but her stature low? a Dwarfe her call,
That like a Serpent on the ground doth crall.
If she be slender, lean: If tall, suppose
Her Charing-cross dress'd up in womans clothes.
If she be merry think her wanton: or
Reserv'dly fashion'd, as unbred abhor.
If in the Northern parts she hath been bred,
Say she her life most clownishly hath led.
Or if in any City, or great Town,
That she hath been a gadder up and down.
What e're she is, be sure her to dispraise,
A thousand Girles dislike a thousand wayes.
[Page 15] If you perceive a want in her in ought,
By crafty means to shew't she must be wrought:
As if she hath no voice, to sing, or dance,
If she be skilless in that art, by chance.
Hath she a big voice, or an ill discourse?
Occasion her to talk, and think them worse.
Hath she an ill gate? see her walk; and tell
Her merry stories, if her teeth be ill,
To make her laugh and shew them. If her eyes
Be weak, relate strange saddest Tragedies
To force her tears; And if she cannot play
Upon the Lute, to play upon't her pray.
Never presume to take a walk alone,
But ay delight in some Companion:
If any time the scorching Lions heat
Compelleth thee into a Grove to get,
In imitation of Alcides strong,
A Phyloctetes bring with thee along,
With whom play, laugh, converse, and so to thee
Dione's Grand-child will no tyrant be.
Lovers, beware of solitariness;
A very dangerous thing for your disease:
Let Crustamaena's daughter's w [...]ful Fate
(That walk'd alone through Forrests, and would waite
Upon the Thracian shore (as he did land)
In hope t'embrace Demophoon on the strand)
From all such melancholy walkes deter
And warn you, by frequent remembring her.
In your bed-chambers have some friends till sleep;
That from your minds they may by talking keep
[Page] All amorous thoughts; so Venus will depart,
And leave in rest to each a quiet heart.
Beware of reading Love; take heed of those
That either pourtract him in verse or prose:
For amorous lines will many mischiefs raise,
And make the Cinders of affection blaze.
Though the Arcadia be a book approv'd,
Arcadia must not be by thee belov'd.
The Lady Wrothes Ʋrania is repleat
With elegancies, but too full of heat.
Spencers and Daniels Sonets do not view,
Though they are good, they are not so for you.
From feigned Histories refrain thy sight,
Scarce one is there but is an amorous Knight.
Musaeus English'd by two Poets shun;
It may undo you though it be well done.
Harrington's Ariosto do not touch,
For wanton lines scarce any book hath such.
And my old friend Drayton's Epistles you
(Being too soft and languishing) eschew,
Be opposite to Cupids law, and when
Thy tears are falling, forcibly smile then:
But yet mistake me not, as if I thought,
That unto freedome you might soon be brought,
And on a sudden; no, he must take time,
That o're a mighty Mountain means to climb:
So you resolvedly your health intend,
Y'are certain to arrive at happy end.
Talk not of Love. Alas! the very name
Is so enchanting that it will inflame;
[Page 17] Neither hear any, turn your head aside
Or presently their company avoide;
Daphne had yeilded to Heavens Charioter,
Had she but staid his wanton words to hear.
Drinking of wine forbear, and be to feed
Wary on meats from which lust doth proceed;
At every meal be sure to shun excess;
By eating little heat grows less and less.
Antonius one of the Triumvirate,
Competitor with Caesar for the State,
With flowing Bowles, and with luxurious feasts
Was entertain'd, and entertain'd his guests:
Which was the cause his lust so high did flame,
That life he lost for the Egyptian Dame,
And over all those Countreys to be head,
Wherein the Roman Eagles ere were spread.
If by some slight a Garter you have got
From her that will not love you, keep it not;
Or if you have a Bracelet of her hair,
Or any such like toy, them never wear;
For surely these are Cytheraea's Baites,
Which infinitely chast Diana hates.
Or if your Mistriss heretofore hath bin
Kind unto you, and you have gloried in
Her bounteous favours, thought your self above
All mankind grac'd, with th'honour of her love;
If under her fair hand you Letters have,
That she returns her heart for that you gave,
Fraught with so sweet expressions as would draw
Even women-Haters under Cupids Law:
[Page 18] If she retreats and alters in her minde,
To you grows cruel that to her are kinde,
Assume a noble Courage, and condemn
To angry Vulcan every one of them;
Or if you have her Picture, send it home,
Or offer it a gallant Hecatombe
To your offended Love▪ that she may know
You scorn her Relicks that hath us'd you so.
Being in love with one, and cannot get her,
Affect another and you will forget her,
So Ariadne did when she did find
Renowned Theseus was to her unkind
In Naxos Isle, where he did her forsake,
Neptune she did into her favour take.
Affection divided you will find
To be a lesser burthen to your mind.
As a great river with a mighty rore
Runs through the vales, and wounds the yeilding shore,
If into several Channels it doth fall,
It less impetuous and maje [...]icall
Will prove, and in an humbler manner glide,
Rob'd of it's former glory, strength, and pride.
So Love be [...]ow'd on several beauties will
Grow much less dangerous and an easier ill.
When his disloyal Queen the Trojan Prince,
(With's beauty and his courtly eloquence)
Did win, and steal away, had Atrcus Son
But done, as many others would have done,
(And it had prov'd the best) become a Lover
(For sure she had some equals) of an other;
[Page 19] He in a slourishing and happy peace
Had liv'd at home in his own Court in Greece,
And many an Argive King at home had found
A Sepulchre, and not in Phrygian ground;
Therefore new Beauties seek to try, if you
Can part with any love unto a new;
And to that end frequent all Solemn Balls
All publick shows and sumptuous Festivals.
Conjecture that which is not: think that you
Are free from love, and that your thought is true:
When one because he would not drink doth make
As he were fall'n asleep, sleep him may take.
If in the Wars you have a trusty friend,
Your Cogitations to him always bend,
Thinking upon the hazard he is in;
And so your thoughts your Mistress shall not win.
Or if you have a Ship with riches fraught
Returning home, ay on it fix your thought;
Contemplating the fury of the Sea,
And how that many have been cast away;
Whereby your scornful Girl you shall forget,
Sith your imaginations are not set
On her, but on the Goods that Neptune hath
Within the power of his love, or wrath.
If that thy Mistress with a nimble hand
All the Lutes ravishing harmony doth command,
Or upon other Instruments can play
Equal to Orpheus, that did make his way
Through the Infernal Shades by his rare skill;
Hear her not play; It will increase thine Ill.
[Page 20] Or if she sings like Venus, when she fain
Her weary wanton Cupid would constrain
To lay his fatal quiver and bow away,
And in the Groves of Amathusia
Sleep by her side, while on the Cypress Trees
A thousand birds warble their melodies,
Hear her not sing; Her voice will so allure
That her contempt you longer will endure.
Or dances she like to the Graces, when
They are retit'd from the abodes of men,
And Gods their pleas'd spectatours do become;
If she intends to dance avoid the room.
Imagine not a Rival; For so doing
You never will be able to leave wooing;
For, (to obtain the Girl from him) you will
Persist a vain Inamorato still.
The one-ey'd Cyclop, when he Acis found
Sitting with Galatea on the ground,
His Rival with a rent up rock did kill,
Yet n [...]'re the nearer to obtain his will;
When she anothers did begin to be,
The more Orestes lov'd Hermione.
Refrain from Playes; Let not the Theatre
At all include thee; for by seeing there
One act an amorous passion, may make you
Your suit to your proud Lady to pursue.
Because when you have seen that he hath got
His Mistress, may conceive, why may you not?
Ah! his was but th' Invention of a brain,
Your Ladies scorns runs in an higher strain.
[Page 21] If you conveniently can, surprise
Your mistress dressings, so your wary eyes
Some strange conceal'd deformities may finde,
To ease, if not release your Captive minde;
Which when you think upon (at leisure) more,
They to your liberty may you restore.
Most of our Ladys when they do expose
Themselves to view, may thank their costly clothes
Rich jewels, feigned statures, borrow'd hair,
And beauteous colours that unnatural are;
They would not else seem objects of delight,
But homely women, such as we should slight▪
And your disdainful one perhaps being such,
You see the least of her you love so much.
But rashly do not practise this; Be sure
She useth art, or fly her chamber dore;
For a pure native beauty that doth scorn
All helps of Art, arises like the Morn
In a cleer sky, and (dressing) may discover
Sights too attractive for a slighted lover.
Do these, and though affections fire should blaze
Like Aetna in your breast, you thence would chase
Easily all those flames, and after be
From all the Paphian vexations free.
Unfortunate Lovers many times (I guess)
All that reciprocally love do bless,
Think every star (when they were born) did shine
Benignely on them, and the Heavens combine
To grace them with continuance of joyes,
As if they were above all miseries;
[Page 22] When it falls often out, a fervent love
A more extreme affliction doth prove.
Alcyone her Ceyx did prefer
Above all men and he all women, her;
Yet she did see his body float to shore
Drowned at Sea but a few days before.
Therefore to Hymens Temple though they come,
And hear the soft Epithalamium,
And many dayes do live in joy and peace,
In depths of wretchedness they may decease.
And many that for love do marry, be
After unfortunate, and not agree;
Almighty Jove that did Saturnia wed,
Bringing for love his sister to his bed,
Quickly neglected her; His wandring e [...]es
Not long being pleas'd without varieties;
As witness Danae in the Brazen tower,
And Semele his daring'st Paramour,
Laeda by him esteem'd most beautifull,
And fair Europa riding on a Bull;
Calisto (chast Diana) One of thine
Deceiv'd, and vitiated neer Nonacrine;
Married Alcmena in a threefold night,
And many such too tedious to recite.
Thes [...] and the like of his Amours being known,
Juno's firm'st patience was overthrown;
Who (by her much opprobrious language given)
Hath divers times even scolded him from Heaven▪
Be gentle henceforth (Cupid) and invite
Reciprocally unto thy delight:
[Page 23] For bloodshed (wanton) is unfit for you;
Thy Sire-by-law should dreadful Armes pursue;
Tis he that may great Territories wast,
And make whole Kingdoms at his name agast.
Tis he not thou that sternly should advance
(To the expulsure of a Soul) a Lance.
Tis he that should sound trumpets, and the noise
Of baleful Drums make penetrate the skies.
Lutes, Viols, Orpherions, such as these,
Not Mars his wrathful Musick thee should please:
But be as cruel as thou wilt, my verse
Shall blunt thine arrows that they shal not peirce.
Our work we have concluded, and do pray
All those, whose burnings Fits it shall allay,
To love our Memory, and speak our prayse,
And (if we merit them) to give the Bayes.
The first Eglogue.
Coridon, and Strephon.
Cori.
WHy Strephon▪ art thou melancholy grown
And wil [...] not use thine oaten pipe? hast known
Any ill news of late hath dul'd thy wit,
Made us unhappy, and thy self unfit?
Stre.
'Tis no Report, kinde Coridon, hath made
Me cloud my brow with sorrow and be sad;
It is a cause more high, a cause that can
Destroy the joy of the most fortunate man.
Cori.
And may I know it Strephon? Dare you trust
Me with a Secret, and conceive me just,
Believe I will be silent? If you dare,
I should desire this Novelty to hear.
Stre.
Ah, Coridon! I am in love with one,
The fairest Shepherdess was ever knowne;
Her Face is beauties abstract, wherein we
May (at perfection) every beauty see.
Corid.
And art thou sad because thou art in love?
So Jove should grieve because he reigns above;
There is no fate so high befalls a Swain,
As to love where he is belov'd again.
[Page 25] Tell me (my Strephon) therefore why art sad?
Is it because thy Dear will not be had?
Stre.
She cannot (Coridon) for she is wed,
And fine young Perigot hath her maiden-head,
As blithe a Shepherd as did ever sing
Neat Roundelayes unto our Goat-foot King;
He is an happy man, and doth enjoy
That beauty which I languish for, and dy.
Cori.
Strephon, I grieve thou art enthralled so;
Desist betimes, and forward do not go;
Thy flames extinguish whilst they do begin,
For such a Love is against Pan a Sin.
And while yong Perigot lives what hope have you,
If she unto him do not prove untrue?
Stre.
I do confess I have none; neither would
Commit so great an evil, if I could;
I am enamour'd neither more nor less
Then Thenot, on the faithful Shepherdess:
I love her vertues, and if she should fall,
My love to her would be no love at all.
Corid.
Thou art an honest Swain, and our Feild-God
Will bless thee in thy Cottage and abroad.
Stre.
As I have faithfully to you replide,
So let none of my questions be denide.
Cori.
They shall not (Strephon;) I should be unjust
Unto your merits, if I did distrust
Your secresie in any thing I speak;
He that doth doubt his friend, doth friendship break.
Stre.
Is there no l [...]ss whom Coridon doth like?
You, did the Paphian Archer never strike?
[Page 26] Or are you such a man as never car'd
Whether a womans heart were soft or hard?
Corid.
Strephon, I love, but I do fear in vain,
Because rich Melibe intends to gain
A wealthier Shepherd for his daughter, one
Whose fortune must prevent thy Coridon.
Stre.
And would he merchandize his daughter? may
He long expect and never see that day.
Steal her young Shepherd; never let her be
(Whom thou affects) subject to salarie.
Corid.
But ere I saw my Mira, or did know
What beauties made her perfect, I did owe
My love to Galatea; but I lost
My labour, which good old Palaemon crost,
Because he did believe that I would prove
A careless Shepherd, and the Downs not love:
Judge (Strephon) that know'st me above report,
If I be justly censur'd by him fort';
Do I not love the fields, and use to play
On Oaten reedes many a Roundelay?
Stre.
He that says otherwise, he doth not know
Thy Nature truly, but becomes thy foe;
Because (being Ignorant) he doth undertake
So bold a Character of thee to make;
Were he acquainted with thy wayes, to thee
Palaemon would give Galatea free;
And think his age more happy then his youth,
That made a Shepherd his of so much truth.
Corid.
Flatter not (Strephon) I do want those parts
That make a man be lov'd for his deserts;
[Page 27] Could I but sing such neat fine Lays, as you,
I might believe these praises were my due.
Stre.
And so you can if Tityrus says right,
Who told me Dities you did well endite.
Corid.
Now you do mention Tityrus, I must
Be to his merits, and our friendship just;
He is a Shepherd (would he please to sing)
Might lengthen with his voice the speedy Spring:
Did he but know how much the downs he wrongs,
The woods and dales would eccho with his songs;
He knows when Notes are over-sharp, or flat,
And is the ablest Boy that ever sat
Upon an Hillock, would he use his Reed,
And joy his want on flock while it doth feed.
Stre.
He is an able Lad indeed, and likes
Arcadian Pastorals, and (willing) strikes
A Plaudite to th' Epilogues of those
Happy Inventions Shaksphere did compose;
Beaumont and Fletcher he will listen to,
And allow Johnsons method high and true.
He prais'd you to me, and I do believe
He his own Judgement would not wrong to give
Feign'd Commendations; Do not (therefore) fear
Sith he approves your pipe, who doth it hear.
Corid.
Strephon, I thank both you, and him, & will
Be proud hereafter to make known my skill:
If I but please the few I mean it for,
To seek for vulgar praise I shall abhor.
Stre.
Coridon it is late: Farewel untill
We meet again upon this flowry Hill;
[Page 28] My Master will make wonder at my stay,
I otherwise would not so soon away.
Cori.
Thy Master's happy in thy care, Adieu:
As I will be in absence, be thou true.
The second Eglogue.
Thenot, and Amarillis.
Then.
WHy art thou sad (fair Shepherdess) and so
Fil'st Heaven with sighs of hidden inward wo?
What is the reason that in thy fresh years
Thou drown'st thy lovely cheeks with showers of tears,
Withering the Roses that did flourish there,
And pal'st thy youthful blood with heavy chear?
Behold the long expected Spring is come,
And joyful Birds are now no longer dumbe:
They every Grove that is do make a Quire,
Chirping in them the layes of their desire.
Our Lads and Lasses that in winter were
Drowsie like the dull season of the year,
Are merry now, and (upon all the Downs)
Kindly receive, and kindly give green Gowns.
Onely our Amarillis fain'st of all
Mourns like a follower of a Funeral:
What is the cause? for I would gladly know
If it such sorrow doth deserve, or no.
Amar.
[Page 29]Ah Thenot, reverenc't for thy hoary hair,
Of all the Shepherds that amongst us are!
To thee the soon'st I would unload my minde,
That art in Counsel wise, in pity kinde,
Wise, to advise me if I do amiss,
And pitiful, to rue my wretchedness:
Know I have cause to weep, as long as I
Have any moisture left in either eye,
To tear off every hair from off my head,
And rage impatiently till I am dead.
O my Credulity! That did suppose
There could be faith in any Lovers oathes!
Then.
Then tis for love that Amarillis thus
Disconsolately liveth here with us:
But which of all our Boyes is so unwise
To slight a Beauty of so rich a price?
Amar.
Knew'st thou not Thyrsis, that had wont to keep
On yonder Hill a jolly flock of Sheep,
Who all the while they on the banks did feed,
Play'd merry tunes upon his Oaten reed?
Such songs as Alta highly did esteem,
And for their quaintness was in love with him;
The Daughter of rich Ionius, who was
Took with his pipe, like many an other Lass.
But when my Shepherd all the rest did slight,
And in my beauty onely did delight,
He did not care for all her wealth, and (tho
She was an hansome Wench) would never wo;
For such Command I then had of his heart,
That I did think he never could depart:
[Page 30] Which being known, his angry Father sent
Him out of Arcadie in discontent;
That being far remov'd, and forth of sight
He might forget his Amarillis quite.
And so I hear he hath; and yet he swore
Absence should make his love not less, but more.
Ah, perjur'd man! He faithless and untrue,
Hath falsly slighted me, and took a new.
O Thenot! Couldst thou think that Thyrsis, he
That made such vows would ever faithless be?
His vows had he broke onely, it had bin
A pardonable and a venial Sin:
Thenot! can men weep like a Crocodile?
Have they their tears so ready to beguile?
He wept when we did part as much as I,
And now is guilty of such perjury.
Then.
Sad Amarillis, though I know thy youth
Cannot sustain the breach of Lovers truth
Without Impatiency (For women when
They bear affection seldom change like men)
Yet know (in you) 'twere wisdom to remove
Your heart from him that hath so fail'd in love.
Amar.
Ere I can leave my Thyrsis, Thenot, know
I must want life; when I do backward go,
Just Jove revenge my falshood; I will be
True as I was, though he hath slighted me;
Know honest Thenot that I am not Wind,
When I have setled once, to change my minde;
When I prove false, Thou glorious Guide of day,
Change East and West, and run another way;
[Page 31] And thou pale-horned Queen of night constrain
The Sea to dulness, neither wax nor wane;
The pleasant Ladon first shall change his Course,
And every River run back to the Source;
The fixed Stars weary of standing shall
Amaze Astrologers be Planets all:
And toil'd Bootes (tired with his pain)
Leave travel off, and fix his sevenfold Wain.
Then.
Be comforted (sweet Lass) For sure when he
Returns again, again he will love thee.
Amar.
Thenot, could I expect but so much good,
I here would live as merry as I cood,
And to our rural Pan each night and morn
Make faithful Orisons for his Return.
Then.
Trust me (young Amarillis) I have no
Doubt of him; but am sure it will be so:
An honest man may fall, and yet may be
Not ever in his fault; neither will he.
When he returns and finds that you have bin
True unto him, ashamed of his Sin,
His former faith he will renew, and more
Love Amarillis then he lov'd before.
Amar.
Thanks (gentle Thenot) for these words of joy,
Poor Amarillis to her Fortunes try,
And (if that me you ever thankless find)
Banish my name for ever from your minde:
Thy Speeches have rais'd hope he wil come back,
And me again into his favour take▪
And that on Holy-days (when all the Rout
Do sport the medows and the fields about,
[Page 32] (Crowning with Garlands her that Dances best,
Making her Mistress of our Country-Feast)
With showing Gambals on the dazy Green
And eating Chees-cakes with our Summer Queen)
I with my Shepherd (among th' others) shall
Dance many a merry Jig, and many a Brall:
For since my Thyrsis from Arcadia went,
I solitary have liv'd discontent;
When others have been playing, have sat down
And moystned wth my tears the Sun-burnt ground.
Then.
But leave such sadness (Amarillis) now
And unto us thy Company allow;
For I dare lay the best Lamb I have here,
He shortly will return, and love thee deare.
Amar.
My thanks again good Thenot; Ever be
Belov'd of Pan for comforting of me.
Then.
And may our rural God (fair Shepherdess)
Thee with fruition of thy Wishes bless.
Amar.
I have no other wish but that my Swain
Would come to us, and be mine own again.
Happy the day when we by Ladon side
Eat Cream, and kisses mutually enjoyde:
And happy were those Nights, when on his knee
He by the Fire side did dandle me!
How often as we sat so hath thy Son
Thy Billy Thenot to th'old Woman run,
For apples to make Lambs-wooll! Never more
We two shall drink as we have drunk before.
But far more happy were those days of note,
When we from Martin did live far remote,
[Page 33] In thy kind Cottage, when I did not know
What 'twas to love and be forsaken so;
There I have sung, and laugh'd, & laugh'd, & song,
And been as merry as the day was long;
But since my Thyrsis hath both woed, and won me,
And so forgotten me, he hath undon me.
Then.
We should have something to divert this thought;
For Melancholy (Shepherdess) is naught.
I hope that now we very shortly shall
Hear on our Green that pleasant Pastorall,
Which (of an Obstinate Lass) young Coridon,
Thy love-sick Brother did write long agon;
Which Tityrus his faithful Friend approv'd,
A Shepherd for his able parts belov'd.
Amar.
When it is song I will not fail to hear
For Coridons sake, whom I do love so dear;
To me that Pastoral he oft hath said,
While both our neighbor-flocks have fed, & plaid;
And (honest Thenot) many sundry times
I unto him have read my Thyrsis rimes,
Wherein he prais'd me above woman-kind;
And little did I think those Words were winde.
But those few happy days are past, and now
Sad care sits always heavy on my brow.
Ere Thyrsis went none danc'd so much as I,
None laugh'd so chearfully, none did enjoy
So many nights of joy, and days of bliss;
And all because I thought that I was his:
And if (when he returns again) he will
Receive his long-forsaken Amarill,
[Page 34] The Lamb, which best of all my Flock I prize,
Unto our rural Pan I'le sacrifice.
Then.
Fair Shepherdess, be confident ere long
He will return, and quit him of the wrong
That he hath don himself, increasing so
His former love that you no end shall know.
Tis time to fould our Flocks: For we have sat
So long a talking that it is grown late.
Amar.
Thenot, Goodnight! And thanks for thy kind stay,
Heaven prosper thee long to Arcadia:
For, if that thou, and some few more should die,
Our Countery soon the Pastoral Muse would flie.
A Satyre.
AWay with Plays, and Sonnets! I will write
A dreadless Satyre shall the town affright,
And make the Gallants curse and swear that he
Meant this by him, and this he meant by me.
I will spare none, but warn; that each man learns
(When he applies) to minde whom it concerns.
But heark! I hear a friend: Away! And do
Not such a thing; It should not come from you:
Let needy Poets that cannot sell their Plays
Exclaim (out of their want) against the days;
Or (whom a Lord for Dedication ows)
Tax him with all his faults, a way each knows;
Or let a despis'd Lover (whom of late
His Mistress for his verses jeer'd) go prate,
[Page 35] Tell how she paintes, who are her Bawds, & which
Of the young Courtiers comes to ease her Itch;
But not a man of our own ranke disclose,
What either he by his experience knowes,
Or from his friendes relation; In this time
Not to perform but to be seen's a Crime:
And there are many do grow worse when they
See vice reveal'd, cause then they know the way.
This cannot serve: I will unlode my spleen,
And spare no ulcers be they old or green.
Methinks I hear one speak; Sir, do your worst,
We shall not be the last, not are the first
That have by Paper-blurrers been defam'd,
And (when y'ave done) we will proceed unsham'd.
I did believe as much, but I will on
Onely for my own recreation.
Ask but a Chamber-maid (which are the froth
Of vain discourse) what her young Lady doth;
And she will certifie you of each change
Her humour hath, and every subtile range
Her strange unbridled passions lead her to;
How she complains her Knight is grown untrue
Unto his vows and her, and therefore she
Seeks Pastimes to divert her Melancholie;
Frequents the Theatres, Hide-Park, or els talkes
Away her pretious time in Gray's Inn Walkes;
Layes out what she can spare (to win his heart
By any means) for the last helps of art;
And vowes (if nothing in her power lyes
To gain him) she'l no longer be unwise,
[Page 36] And spend her flourishing days in solitude,
Unfit, and unagreeing with her blood;
That there's a Gallant Courtier, young, and rich
In Natures perfectest Endowments, which
She yet hath slighted much; but now (tis thought)
She will requite her Husband, and be naught.
O Feminine Revenge! to brand her Name,
With Infamy, and Family with shame!
Nor is this all her News: She can discover
Whom the old Knights daughter hath made her lover;
That she dotes on him so, she cannot keep
Her tongue from naming him though in her sleep;
That she would fain be married, for the awe
She bears unto an unkind Mother in law;
How he's a younger brother, and [...]oth lack
Silver in's purse though ha's enough on's back.
O vanity of times! Secrets that shoo'd
Be lock'd within 's fast as our bosomes blood,
And faults that should be mended, and not known
(By such like means) common discours are grown:
Some will be censuring things that are above
Their way, because such things they do not love;
Sir, out of love unto you I am come
To certifie you, you give cause to some
To laugh at you; y'ave writ a Play, and they
Say tis a shame for you to write a Play:
Besides you Poetry so much affect,
That you the better Sciences neglect.
O thou sweet Charmer of the Soul [...] Why should
This Iron age so meanly of thee hold?
[Page 37] Hast thou mov▪d salvage beasts, and rocks, & trees,
And canst not win upon the hearts of These!
Enjoy your earthen thoughts: minds full of fire
Can never grovel, but do all aspire.
Madam! Tis true I've writ some Plays, and wood
I had the happiness to call them good,
I would be proud on't: for my love unto
The Mus [...]s, I will ever love them so;
And though some think't a fault, I know it none;
There is no poyson grows on Helicon.
You are resolv'd: but I do think it fit
That you on better things emploid your wit;
And so I leave you. Madam, Fare you well;
And what I've said, unto my Daughers tell.
Mend your own faults: be not so proud of your
One portion, as if no body had more;
And when that you have Suitors, do not scare
Them away with looks like th'angry God of war.
But I must leave her: For I see another
That for her wit may call my Madam mother.
She is a young one, lately married to
A Lord: Now let us see what she will do.
Sir, I am glad to see you; Madam I
Rejoyce to hear of your good fortune; why?
You have a noble and rich husband; So
I did deserve for what I brought you know.
Were I but such a man I would not wed
So low, and rather keep a single bed.
I am an Hogen Mogens daughter; good,
You may boast of your wealth, not of your blood.
[Page 38] Of my Husband I may. Indeed tis true;
But he was much to blame to marry you:
Sir, you do wrong me much: and I do pray
To me you would not dedicate a Play,
I scorn to own such Trifles; I did hear
'Twas your Intent, which if it was, forbear:
A Poet once of your acquaintance did,
But for his sawciness he was well chid.
Madam know this, I do not write for gain,
My pleasure is the Guerdon of my pain;
And never with one mean to trouble you,
Though it were acted in a publick Stew.
I know the Poet you spoke of, and know
It was his want that forc'd him thereunto;
He knew you was unfit for't, and that scant
Could understand a Scene so ignorant.
Therefore learn this; The rich the poor do praise,
Not for their merits, but their stock to raise:
And tis no doubt but he did give you high
Titles of worth, yet knew himself did lye.
Take your unpay'd for Coach, and to Hide-Park,
And (Madam) when the Cuckow sings, pray heark;
It is a musick you can manage; or send
For a Croud of Fidlers and their skill commend;
Know, that for you tis an impossible thing
The hear the sweet and solemn Muses sing:
An earthen minde hath earthen thoughts, and they
That noble Souls have noble things survey.
Madam adieu! Think of me what you will,
Of your Opinion I am careless still.
[Page 39] Whether this Lady angry be or no
I do not care at all; So let her go.
Go into Gray's Inn Walks, and you shall see
Matter for Satyres in each Companie;
This Lady comes to show her new fine Gown,
And this to see the Gallants of the town.
Most part of Gentlemen thither repair,
To censure who is foul, and who is fair.
Yon Lady in th'red Sattin looks so pale,
That eirher she hath th' Green-sickness, or is stale.
She in the Hat and Feather looks so like
An Amazonian Tosser of a Pike,
She's fit for a fiery Captain: yon's a face
Pretty and beautiful at the first Gaze;
But view it seriously, and it is slight.
What an old womans that with a young Knight?
Sure tis his Grand-mother, or great Aunt; alas!
He had much rather a walk'd with a young Lass.
O, says a young Lady to her brother, when
Did you see so complete a Gentleman?
Has he not curious legs? fine curled hair?
How well the Suite is made that he doth wear!
I would my Husband were so handsome: So
He is her brother swears, but she sighs no.
Yon Gallant's gate is like unto a Dance,
Sure he's return'd but newly out of France;
Yon's like a fools or clowns, I know not whether,
And (if h'as any wit) hee'l soon go thither,
Says a Lady to her husband: He replide,
See how that woman walks! with what a pride,
[Page 40] She very lately was a City-wife
But now a Lord o'th Court hath chang'd her life:
Her Husband being dead, and she left rich,
She for a title of more height did itch;
Which her good fortune got her: In her own
Conceit she is the onely happy one;
She thinks her Husband loves her, and I dare
Be sworn that he for her doth nothing care.
When he at night comes in, towards him she trips,
And he must kiss her though he lothe her lips,
Which out of his affection he doth doe,
She thinks, but I have told you what is true.
Vain, windy honour! what a sought for thing!
'Twill make a Kettle have a silver ring.
Survey a Tavern; Not a Room but will
Deserve a Satyre, they are all so ill.
Here is a Gentleman that hath a smack
Of riming with a Poet at his back,
And half a dozen of his drunken friends,
Who doth adopt him son for what he spends;
Praises his Poems for the best that were
(Since H [...]ngist time) writ in the English aire:
And (For 'tis vain to go to Delphos now
For Oracles) Son! read my lines, and thou
(Cryes he) wilt say Apollo never coo'd
(God of the sacred Muses) write as good.
He swears as many oathes as he repeates
Verses, then calls for the dear'st Fowl, and eates,
Beg's mony when the reckning's paid, and so
(Having fil'd his Tobacco-box) doth go.
[Page 41] Another chamber view, and you may find
Gentlemen staggering with wine as wind;
See healths drunk round & round; To her that lies
By Suffolk-house, and hath the fine blackeies;
Unto whose Lodgings he dares not repair,
Because she will not marry but an Heir;
To the rich Lady Widow that did invite
Him kindly unto supper yesternight, (great)
Who (though his means be smal, her joyntu [...]e
Without his company can eat no meat;
To the rich Citizens daughter (gallant Girle!)
The laft Mask full of Diamonds and Pearle.
Were you within the next Room, you might see
A Gentleman with a great Companie
Of miscal'd Captains, and Rorers that think (drink;
Oathes (Sugar-like) sweeten each Glass they
A pretious Engle! Hug'd over, and over, and styl'd
An hopeful spark, or they are all beguil'd;
The Table full of Pottles, Pintes, and Quartos,
And they a humouring him with some old parts
Of the last Coranto's, or perhaps some thing
Of Note, perform'd by the late Sweden King.
They call for what they list, meaning that he
Shall pay the reck'ning for th' whole Companie;
Which when he hath, they steal what plate they can
Finger, and part, and laugh at th' idle man.
I'le not go up two pair of stairs, yet there
Could be Satyrical as well as here.
And now I send, desiring those that know
Themselves touch'd in these lines away to goe
[Page] Silent, and mend; For every thing is true:
And though I neither do name him, nor you,
Believ't I could & that I would. But (faith!)
Would you not be revenged? Do; Show your wrath,
Of me go and write Satyres, for (I know it)
My faults will serve although you are no Poet.
Love Elegies.
1. Of my falling in Love.
HAving resolv'd in Numbers great and high
To sing our Brutus Flight from Italie;
How in this Island he arriv'd, and fought
Till he it under his Subjection brought;
Here reing'd some years in peace, & when he di'de
To his three Sons did all the whole divide:
And being prepar'd to write, a sudden noise
Of a Coach did occasion me to rise,
Conjecturing whom it might be that did come,
Till a new day approch'd our Dining-room.
She was no sooner entred in the Place,
With her fair hand dispers'd Night from her face
By taking off her mask, and with a free
Well-pleasing Garbe look'd on the Companie,
(My eies being all the while fix'd on her face,
Astonish'd at her beauty, and her grace)
[Page 43] But I both sigh'd and trembled; For I saw
The winged Boy did follow her in awe,
And was become her Champion, to subject
All mankind at her feet that dare reflect
Rash looks on her. Alas! had I espide
The fatal God, ere I her Beauties eyde,
The sight of his resistless bow had soon
(With down cast eies) made me to leave the room.
To him she turning scornfully, did finde
No shaft in's hand, I had it in my minde,
And said; Why Truant, do you suffer thus
A rash presumptuous youth to gaze on us?
He humbly gave this answer; Madam, you
May be appeas'd, he soon his fault will rue;
When he came hither first, he did intend
A mighty Epick Poem to have pen'd;
But now that resolution will despise,
And court your favours in soft Elegies:
Before he had withdrawn his eies he found
His yeilding heart assaulted with a wound.
This said, a pretty, and disdainful look
She cast upon me, and her leave then took
Of those she came to visit, leaving me
Possest with sad thoughts of my Miserie.
Away (Great Mars) sigh'd I, when she was gone,
And welcome (Gentle Venus) with thy Son;
The horrid wars that I did mean to write
(In stately numbers) of the Trojan Knight,
I must convert to softer Layes, and prove
All ways t'incline her noble heart to Love.
2. To my Mistress.
Fair glory of your Sex! when you have read
My name subscrib'd, and find who's conquered,
Blame not my weakness; know your eies are strong,
And can do what they will, or right or wrong.
I did not look to love, onely to see,
And was enthral'd when I least thought to be.
Be kind; or (if you needs will tyrannize)
Ile be your Martyr, burn me with your eies.
But let me live; For th' Art is more profound,
To save a dying Man, then kill a Sound▪
3. To my Mrs. before Mr. Mayes Lucan that I sent her.
Pardon me Lady, that I dare invent
Lines neither worth your view, nor my intent.
Nero did murther Lucan, but I doe
Expect a life, and not a death from you:
With Piso and the learned Seneca
He treason against Caesar did assay;
Yet's Emperour gave him leave to choose by what
Means he would undergo the Law of Fate.
I never did conceive a thought that you
Might think offence, unless affection true;
And that should not your indignation move:
The Gods will give us leave their Heaven to love▪
He lives unto Report, and so shall I
(If slain) demonstrate your great Cruelty.
[Page 45] You are my Empress; under your fair hand
Send me what Destiny you will command.
My Fate is what you please to have it: I
Live by your kindness, or your coyness dye.
4.
Lady, in your applause verse goes
As slow and dull as heavy prose;
And your known worthes (would you submit
Your self a subject unto Wit)
Would blunt invention, and (ore'come
With strong Amaze) make Poets dumbe.
By what means then shall I declare
My thoughts at height, or what you are?
A world of Paper would but be
My love in an Epitome:
Fair Lady, therefore do not look
For my affection in a book:
Search my life through, and if you find
Not what I can do, be unkind.
5.
Petrarch, for the neat Sonnets he did frame
In Laura's praise, obtain'd a Poets Name:
I of my Mistress write in verse, and show it,
And yet I do profess I am no Poet.
They feign, but I speak truth; what they invent
(Out of long study) for a Complement,
In me is earnest; Those rich words that they
Enforce upon some beauties, I can lay
With reverence on you whom I adore,
And Times to come may as a Saint implore;
[Page 46] Then unto all may you propitious be,
I wish to heaven you now were so to me.
Believe, because these are unsmooth, my wit
Dul'd with amazement, and my hand unfit
To hold a pen so steddy as to write,
Lest some Offence should frustrate my delight.
Your Beauty is my wonder: That you should
Prove merciless, my fear: but my most bold,
And happiest earthly wish is, That you may
With kindness save whom else your beauties slay.
6.
Lady I love, and (if you can
Believe there is a faith in man)
No one can think a Mistress fitter,
Nor any love a Mistris better.
When I do look on you, I scorn
The rosie blushes of the morn;
When I do hear you speak, I know
No musick can so sweetly go;
When I at first your lips did touch,
I thought Jove never met with such;
I tasted Odours in your breath
Able to win a Soul from death;
All things that have been by you, smell
So fragrant after, and so well,
That Flora may be banished,
And you elected in her stead.
My sences being yours, make all
My future days one Festival:
[Page 47] And comfort me who now am sad,
Least losing Senses I grow mad.
7.
Now after tedious weeks of being mute,
The Mistress of my life I do salute.
As it is in your power to make each line
Of Poesie I write to you, divine;
(For if you kindly smile on them, you give
Ability enough to make them live)
So is it in your power (if you would please
To speak those words) to raise me unto ease;
For unto me, Enceladus doth lye
In flakes of Snow, and I in Fiers dye.
Do not believe I counterfeit, who think
Verses in your praise would transcolour Inke;
And your Glass an Elizium, where one may
Behold your Shadow ere your dying day;
And that reflection I had rather view
Then all the beauties in the world but you.
Had I your Picture reasonably wrought,
No Lady like it should command my thought;
Pigmalion-like I would adore't, until
You did prove kind, or me my griefes did kill.
Think not I do dissemble; For who can
Look on your face unmov'd, that is a man?
Who ist'hath heard your voice, but he will say
Your Tongue can charm all hearers to obey?
And who hath touch'd your lips, but like unto
A Lethe-drinker, forgets all save you?
[Page] But I am extasied! you are above
My best expressions though I am in love.
8.
When I look on your Ribband-knots, I find
That my rash gazing eies have thral'd my mind:
For they become you so exceeding well,
That they have tide my toung, I cannot tell.
When I perceive the wanton Windes to play
With your unequal'd hair, amaz'd I stay,
And bless their happiness; that they can move
Those amorous tresses and not fall in love.
When you into Hide Parke do go, all there
To follow the race-riders do forbear,
And all of them unanimously approch,
And (as if waiters) do attend your Coach;
That your fair eys may shine on them, whose light
Doth set their hearts on fier at the sight;
And force vows from them, that for your dear sake
Of greatest toils they greatest joys would make.
But what do I do then! I nothing can;
Your beauties make a Statue of a Man.
I cannot look and talke to you like some;
Lady! your matchless Beauties strike me dumbe.
But when I am retired, and alone,
My resolutions then do yeild to none;
Regard, reward my earnest love, and so
Raise me to heights of joy from depths of wo.
9.
Lady, from Cornwall unto you I writ,
But my hard Fates kept you from seeing it.
[Page 49] How glad had I been if that you had known
That there I was yours much more then mine own!
Each wind that blew I lov'd, because I thought
The sound thereof might to your ears be brought;
Each Showre that came I wish'd of gold, and that
Jove-like I fell into my Danae's lap:
Each star I saw put me in minde of thee;
But th'art too fair a little star to be.
I went to Sea, and when I there was come,
I thought of him that to his Hero swom,
And wish't so you did love as she did him,
That like Leander I to you might swim.
But now I am return'd again, be you
As kind to me as you have found me true.
10.
Awake my Muse▪ put on thy best attire
To sing her Beauty, and my raging fire:
Make all the world know, (since she will not know)
That she is much to blame to use me so.
Sweet, cruel, fair one! (unto all of these
You may reply causes of my unease)
For you are sweet as flowry May's west wind;
Why should so sweet a Creature be unkinde?
And you are fair, and fair, and sweet must be,
The reason I endure your Cruelty.
Each Statue I see makes me my Case thus mone;
It hath a Body, you an heart of stone.
I fain would die, but thinking I must come
To be a wanderer in Elizium,
[Page 50] I do destroy that infant-thought; for there
No Soul's so pure as is your body here.
Each night my troubled thoughts keep sleep away;
That time's to me as busie as the day:
But you that are with never a care opprest,
Enamour the night Deities in your rest;
Old Somnus fears his wand may do some ill,
And therefore charms your eies with kisses still.
O that I knew the way whereby to move
My sweet and cruel fair One unto love!
Will sighing do it? O you Gods of wind!
Lend me your breathes that I may sigh her kind:
Will tears prevail? O that my eies would then
Melt out themselves into an Ocean!
Or may Entreaties win upon her sense?
Assist me all you Powers of eloquence;
Pity my miseries which are grown so high,
That you must pity them, or I shall die:
And be not henceforth harsh; That I may finde
My sweet and fair One like a Goddess kinde.
11.
Fair Mistress, though my fate is so adverse,
That I could rather weep then sing in verse;
Yet one or two I'le force my Muse to write,
And you with your own Cruelty delight.
Me-thoughts when last I heard the Nightingal,
She did not mention her own woes at all;
But every note that past my listning ear
Did make me my own misery to hear:
[Page 51] It was a change worthy her skill, for she
Will sing the saddest things, and therefore me.
Pity a man in Hell, for there I am,
I could not else live so amidst my flame;
And make my joyes with all my sufferings even;
But two kind words, and I shall be in Heaven.
12.
Dear Lady, from your eies there came
A lightning did my heart inflame,
And set it all on burning so,
That forth the fire will never go.
Be merciful, for I remain,
Till you be kind, in endless pain;
And (machless fair One) deign to know
That pity should with beauty goe;
That comely bodies should include
Mindes in them equally as good.
I will not doubt you until I
Have reason from your Crueltie.
Since we deformed bodies finde
To be the Emblems of the minde;
Why should not I pursue that art,
And think one fair hath such an heart?
Confirm Philosophie, which you
By being merciful may do:
And unto the eternal praise
Of your rich Beauty I will raise
A fame so high, that times to come
Of your deare name shall ne're be dumbe;
[Page 52] So you with Rosalinde shall be
Eterniz'd unto Memorie,
With Stella live; names known as well
As Colin Clout, and Astrophel.
As kindness in a Lady can
Preserve in life a dying man;
So verses (after she is dead)
Report will of her spread.
Return affection, and we then
Shall live though die, and live agen.
13.
I have mine eyes and love: for who
Hath eyes to see and doth not so?
Who can behold a lovely face,
Both full of beauty and of grace;
See pretty lips, and glorious eyes,
And not be chang'd though ne're so wise?
Rich Cherry-cheeks, and browes Divine,
And not desire would she were mine?
I have a Lady lately seen
Far perfecter then beauties Queen;
Diana's vertues make her stai'd,
And Venus forme a lovely Maid;
Surely two Goddesses have strove
To make a wonder of my Love:
No Beauty Venus lets her want;
And Dian hath made her a Saint,
To pray to Saints many deny,
And censure for idolatry;
[Page 53] But none of them will say I erre
If I with prayers petition her.
Deign therefore virtuous, beauteous Fair,
(You that are more then others are
For beauty whom all wonder at,
And for your vertues emulate)
Pity my heart by you enflam'd;
For cruelty be not defam'd:
Nor joy to see my miseries rage,
Which your tongue onely can asswage;
But a true service entertain,
Rewarding it with love again.
14. Before a little Book of my own that I sent her.
Lady, I do not give this Book alone,
But with't my heart, which you have made your own:
Censure my verses as you please; but be
Kind to my heart, lest you do ruine me.
I made these little Poems, and (if you
Vouchsafe your love to me) you make me too.
Be kind as you are fair, I wish no other;
So make a doubtful man an happy Lover.
15.
Be kind (blind Boy) and let not her alone;
Tis tyranny in thee to shoot at one.
Me thou hast wounded, she untouch'd remains;
Slights all my Sighs, and credits not my pains.
[Page 54] If th' hast an Arrow (though but one) behind
Strike her, and make us both be of one mind.
Thou God of Love born in an happy hour
In some fresh Garden in some flowry Bower,
I, by thy wings fill'd with the sighes of thy
Fast- [...]erter'd Subjects, by thy Quiver, and by
Thy fatal Bow, by Venus drawn along
Olympus Star-pav'd Courts (the Gods among)
If thou dost ever hope eternal Jove
Will eyes vouchsafe unto the God of Love;
By these and more I do beseech thine aide,
Or make me mine, or mine, this Angel-Maide.
Pity my misery, and take my part;
Or heal my wound, or wound her cruel heart.
Fair Love! Sole Centre of my thoughts! to you
I am a Suppliant, be my Judge and true;
Censure my pass [...]ons, prayers, affections, me
Throughly and narrowly, and (if you see
No fault in me, as you no fault shall finde)
Leave off your cruelty, and be you kinde.
Use me according to my love, if I
Adore you not, let me unpitied die.
16. At her going out of the Countrey.
Farewell fair Saint! But when you are away
And far remote, think of me once a day.
When shall I see again your Amber-haire?
Look on your stately forehead, arched fair?
[Page] View those two Suns, your heart-bewitching eies?
Your Nose, and Mouth, and all your Rarities?
Hear your sweet tongue again, whose words alone
Would make deaf Mortalls hear, if not a stone?
Not till I come to London: Phoebus, hie;
Drive not the Sun so slowly through the skie.
If these short dayes, these Winter-days will seem
So tedious, then what should I think of them
If they were Summer-Hours? Surely I
Should wish (like Phaeton) thou might'st fall & die:
For in your absence I shall take delight
In Dreams of you t'wear out the longest Night.
I love, and that is all that I can say;
My vehement thoughts take all my words away.
The more I think to write, I can the less:
His heart is safe who can his love express.
Know I am yours much more then I can tell,
And say (with grief) sweet'st of your Sex! Farewell.
17. At my Return, having brought her the first days Journey.
Farewell again, Fair Mistress of my heart;
For you must go, and I must now depart.
My body doth return; my heart doth stay:
You it along with you do bear away.
Lay it by yours, thither it would withdraw;
The fire of mine the frost of yours may thaw.
Farewel dear eies: It will be tedious Night
With me as long as I do want your light.
[Page 56] Farewell sweet mouth, encompass'd with a row
Of richest Cherries over and below;
The Nectar and Ambrosia I shall want
That hang on them, and fast an irksome Lent.
Farewel best tongue; Now thee I shall not hear,
I would not care if all things silent were.
Farewell all fair! Beauty I shall not view,
Until again I do behold't in you.
All things befriend you; Hyems, do not frown
Keep Boreas still, and all his Brethren down.
Be of a kind Aspect, and look not pale
With frost or Snow; not sullenly let fall
Showr's from thine eies; Be milde, that Phoebus may
Waite on my lovely mistress every day.
So she may hap to favour thee; which thing
May change the Winter to another Spring.
My last Farewel: Till I in London see
My Love again, I shall a mourner be.
18.
Hail my Delight! whom I so well lov'd here,
Do now love there and will love every where.
I hope you do not doubt my faith: For I
Know I adore you so I daily die.
When you was here my passion was so great,
That I did bow and sink down under it:
But now y'are gone my Love is so extreme,
I am distracted: when your happy name
I think upon, your beauty, Goodness, all
What you include, I into madness fall;
[Page 57] Rave at these days that do divide us two,
At these slow hours that keep me from you.
Thus I affect: would you did love me so,
That when we meet there might not pass a No.
Tell me how doth that richest jewel, your
Unkindest heart against all love endure?
Although Diana's Charms environ round,
And circle it, to keep it from a wound;
Yet Cupids Dart hath greater force then those,
And when he please can peirce it with his throws.
And I will make such prayers to him, that he
Shall be reveng'd (unto the height) for me:
It's ears be not deaf as his eyes be blind,
I'le make him hear me, and he'l make you kind.
You cannot (fairest Maid) your Fate remove:
Yield therefore not by force, but will to love.
19.
I will not now implore a Muse, not One
Of the inhabiters of Helicon:
Neither Apollo, he that doth above
Sing Sacred Anthems to eternal Jove:
If you (sweet Mistress) will vouchsafe to be
Gracious, and read, each line will come off free.
Since I beheld your Beauty I've forgot
My former pleasures, and now know them not:
I've no Delight but you, and you are so
Unkind to me you are my torment too.
Unmerciful Destinies! that do unite
A cruel torment with a sweet delight.
[Page] But be you far more harder-hearted then
Was ever Lady yet to any man;
Though Daphne-like you shun, and run away;
Like Phoebus I behind you will not stay.
You are regardless, and will lend no ear
Unto my vows, nor my entreaties hear:
Deign therefore, you immortal Deities
That reign enthroned in the lofty Skies;
Hear, and redress my wrongs, pity my mone,
Or make her's flesh, or mine an heart of stone;
Or guide her tongue that thence kind words may
Or strik me deaf, or strik my Mistress dumb: (come,
Yet is her tongue all Musick, and so rare,
It makes me even to love my own despair.
For Neptunes sake, whose Trident awes the Sea,
Pale Luna shine with an auspicious ray.
If thou dost love the bright delicious bride
Of Mulciber, Mars be thou on my side.
By thy wing'd feet, and by thy Charmed wand,
A gracious influence, Mercury, I command.
For Alcumena's Night, and for her Child,
The Monster-Queller, Jupiter be mild.
If ever thou didst love Adonis deare,
Now Venus favour me in thy Careere.
If thou dost hope Jove will allow thee peace
In heaven, that did affor'd thee small in Greece;
On Lovers (Saturne) gently smile, and joyn
(With th'other Six) to perfect my design.
By all Ver's various flowers, and Autumns fruit,
Sol, I implore thee to complete my suit.
[Page 59] If me the Planets do befriend in this,
Her Cruelty cannot withstand my bliss;
Against the Stars there is no striving, she
Must yield unto her Fate, which is to me;
And (Lady) if their beams be gracious, know,
I mean to have you whether you will or no.
20.
My love (Dear Soul) is grown unto that height,
That when I cannot see you I must write:
By my affection, now I am from you,
You may perceive my former words were true.
Doubt me not (Lady!) rather doubt the Sun
(Dash'd out with Ocean waves) will cease to run:
Believe the Moon, pale Cynthia of the night,
Will leave her Sphere, and on the earth a light;
And th' other Planets (frighted a this change)
Will stand still in a maze, and leave to range;
Believe old Neptune missing of his Deare,
Will be dul'd into calmness out of fear;
Suppose the earth wanting the Light Divine
That nourish't it, will never more be green;
Believe the earth agreeing yet with Heaven,
Into another Chaos will be driven;
Imagine what you will, true or untrue;
But never think I can be false to you.
Know that if you affection will return,
That now Im'warm, and will hereafter burn;
That now I curb my passions; but will then
Give way unto them, love, and love agen.
[Page] We'l not be parted, be not you ingrate,
By Lands, or Seas, by friends or foes, or fate.
21.
Dear Saint, I do love you so well,
You cannot think, nor I can tell.
As when from earth some look on high,
And see the Lights that grace the skie,
They think them small, because they seem
Not unto them to be extreme;
So you perchance when you do read
My Love dress'd in so poor a weed
As my weak Muse can frame, will straight
Or think it counterfeit, or light:
But could my hand express my minde,
You would no longer be unkinde;
For tis so full of love to you,
You cannot think, nor I can shew.
22.
May you (fair Sweet) live long and happily:
But do not you live so that I must dye.
Be kind; for if you chance to frown I fall:
Your No is equal to the Fates sad Call.
A curious Limner dares profess a Strife
With Nature, thinks with art to match the life:
O that my pen could draw my heart, and you
Be won (by certainties) to know me true!
How many thousand prayers would you read over!
How many vows professed by your Lover!
What a poor martyr you would see! An heart,
Dying in flames because you care not for't!
[Page] [...]hall I believe you always will remain
[...]o careless of me, and so slight my pain?
[...]'le not despair; when you least think to be
Kind unto me, the Gods may pity me;
Make you with me in an affection joyn
And mollifie your heart as much as mine,
To sacred Hymen their high wills reveal,
And make him sign our Loves with his broad seal▪
Nor will I wish (if you do slight me ever)
That you may love, and may be pitied never;
Far be it from me: onely that you may
Sigh once, weep one tear, and wear black one day▪
But I will hope you may be kind, and (though
Y'are strange so long) not always use me so.
Pity your Servant; if I do not prove
Worthy of your love, then withdraw your love.
23. To her resolved to go beyond Sea.
Unkind, fair Mistress! are not frowns and Noes
Enough, to fill your Servant full of woes?
Can you not be cruel enough, unless
You leave this Kingdom, and do pass the Seas?
Like unto Caesar would you have me fall
With many wounds, and triumph over all?
Though, when y'are gon my fate is sad, I will
Wish you all good though you wish me all ill.
May Neptune proud of such a burthen, smooth
His old and angry Face, and fall in love;
[Page] May not an adverse winde as much as breath;
That you may smile upon the Seas beneath.
Were I not wondrous true, instead of prayers
I should use imprecations, curse the stars,
Wish Neptune with his powerful Trident throw
The waters from the Centre, and below
In that Abyss sink down your Ship, and then
The raging winds blow back the Seas agen
And cover you, that women henceforth may
Beware, and earnest love with earnest pay.
But I am patient, and (though in vaine
I love) I dare not therefore be profane.
May you arrive safely and soon, and live
In all felicity whil'st I here grieve,
And sigh, and weep for you; may not a thought
Of yours remember me, (be I forgot)
Lest when you think how you have left me, you
Should give a stop unto your mirth, and rue.
But one word more; it is not yet too late
To make a wretched Lover fortunate:
Let not my prayers, sighes, vows be spent in vain,
But as I do love you, so love again;
And we will go together, never part,
Till I your body have who have my heart;
Which had I in possession, I should finde
Ways soon enough to win your backward mind.
24.
Although she cannot number thousands, even
With some deform'd, whom Fortune more hath given;
[Page] Shall want of wealth (scorn'd by true happiness)
Resist my way, or make me love her less?
Yet hath she a fair Portion, and her Name
From one of our best Houses, Coritane;
And she is beauteous as a cheerful day,
Or Venus rising from her Mother-Sea.
Are not her teeth the richest Pearls? and sure
He that hath Pearls enow cannot be poor;
Are not her radiant eies two diamonds fair?
And we all know that those stones precious are;
Art not her hairs of Gold? And what but it (fit?
Makes wrinkles smooth; Age, youth; unfit things,
Her beauteous Cheekes are Roses, such as neither
The Spring can give, nor the cold Winter wither.
Her lovely Breasts are Apples of more worth
Then ever the Hesperides brought forth;
Arabian Odours, both the India's Good
She in one curious body doth include;
Cupid in nothing more his eies doth miss,
Then that he cannot see how fair she is.
Jupiter for her would unthrone his Queen,
And Pluto leave his lovely Proserpine;
Neptune from Amphitrite would remove,
And Mars for her forsake the Queen of love.
She's like a Soul before it doth depart;
Even all in all, and All in every part.
No man hath seen her, but to every Sence
Of him she bettereth the intelligence;
He knows his eies are perfect in their sight,
That in no other Object can delight;
[Page] He knows his smelling's exquisite that doth
When he hath felt her breath all others loth;
A perfume for the Gods most fit, and sweet
When they (at Counsel) on Olympus meet,
And Iris they or Mercury beneath
Tis likely send for her so fragrant breath:
A free and unconfined touching her
Above the lips of Queens all would prefer,
Or sacred hands of bounteous Kings; compar'd
The pretious Down of Phoenix's being hard
Unto her softer skin: And her sweet Tongue
Which chides in Musick, and enchantes in song,
And strikes the ablest Rhetoricians dumb,
Is fit'st to plead the peace of Christendom;
He in the sphere of happiness will move
On whom she pleases to bestow her love,
And have the most delicious Repast
That shall her Hymenaean Dainties tast.
You that are beauty in the Zenith, who
Can find no Equal wheresoer'e you go,
My Love no longer cruelly despise,
But dart me mercy from your gracious eyes,
And we shall both be rich: For I am sure,
Themselves no happy Lovers ere thought poore.
25. To her obtain'd.
Past are my sighs, and woes, complaints, and tears,
Nor am I longer subject to my fears;
Her frowns no more strike terrour to my soul,
Though I was wounded she hath made me whole.
[Page] Within the rank of happy Lovers I
Am now enrol'd, and march triumphantly
Ore all the Crosses that before did stay,
And hinder me to enter in this way,
And sing the Boy-Gods praise, who (wanting sight)
Shot at my Mistress and did hit the White.
My happiness is such, that Times to come
Shall not complain I of my joys was dumbe.
Let him whose Mistress is deform'd or old,
Not worth a Sonnet nor a Line, withhold:
Or (if on such an heap of years, or sad
Chaos of features, he will needs run mad;
Loose the true judgement of his eyes, or think
That Channel water's Nectar he doth drink)
Let him profess he's happy ne're so much,
The World that sees her cannot think him such.
'Twere fondness in me, that what ere my youth
Writ in her praise I now should say was truth;
I would not if I could: but to be just
To her, and to my self, thus much I must.
I'm so far from repenting of my choice,
That every day she's dearer in mine eyes.
Dear heart! and dearer to me then mine heart!
We'l live in love, and in our loves depart.
The World shall bless our Fates, and they that come
Into sad bonds, wish happy Lovers dumb▪
Funeral Elegies.
1. On the Death of my very good Friend Mr. Micha [...]l Drayton.
PHoebus, art thou a God, and canst not give
A Priviledge unto thine own to live?
Thou canst: But if that Poets nere should dye,
In Heaven who should praise thy Deity?
Else [...]ill (my Drayton) thou hadst liv'd and writ;
Thy life had been immortal as thy wit.
But Spencer is grown hoarse, he that of late
Song Glorian [...] in her Elfin state:
And so is Sydney, whom we yet admire
Lighting our little Torches at his fire.
These have so long before Apollo's Throne
Carrel'd Encomiums▪ that they now are growne
Weary and faint; and therefore thou didst dye,
Their sweet unfinish'd Ditty to supply▪
So was the Iliad-writer rapt away;
Before his lov'd Achilles fatall day,
And when his voice began to fail, the great
[...] did assume his seat:
Therefore we must not mourn, unless it be
[...] none is left worthy to follow thee.
It is in vain to say thy lines are such
As neither time not envies rage can touch:
For they must live, and will whiles there's an eye
To reade, or wit to judge of Poetrie▪
Sing, and then die at Drayton's Funeral:
Sure shortly there will not a drop be seen,
And the smooth-pebbled Bottom be turn'd green,
When the Nymphes (that inhabit in it) have
(As they did Shakespeere) wept thee to thy grave.
But I molest thy quiet; sleep, whil'st we
That live, would leave our lives to die like thee.
2. On my dear Sister Mrs. Isabella Cokaine, who who died at Ashbourne about the 18th yeer of her Age, and lyes there buried.
IT is an irreligious pride to turne
Away our eyes, and not to see thine Urne.
For sure that body whose blest soul doth keep
A Jubile in heaven, (while here asleep
It lies in holy earth) is every day
Bless'd by good Angels, that do pass that way:
And therefore we with reverence should eye
The Sepulchres where Saints entomb'd do lye:
And every time that we do go or come
Nigh where thine Ashes lye, behold thy Tombe▪
But when we see it, should we weep our eyes
Dry of their tears, and then conclude in cries?
It is impossible that our complaints
Should make a Diapason to the Saints.
[...]an Hallelujahs song above agree
With tears on earth? Tis an Antipathie▪
[Page 68] But 'tis unnatural we should be glad,
And 'tis Impiety we should be sad:
We must not grieve therefore, nor yet rejoyce;
But fix us in the mean, and shew us wise.
Be glad, that we believe her soul is crown'd
With endless Glory in Heavens ample Round:
Onely lament that we have lost our guide,
And (wanting her) are apt to wander wide▪
We need not bid thee sleep secure, that know
That God himself rock'd thee asleep below.
Sweet Sainted Maid, thou meritest the Pen
Of Cherubims to shew thee unto men:
And dost deserve a bench of Poets grave
To study, and to write thine Epitaph,
Which in Mosaick work with diamonds bright
Should be drawn out, and read by it's own light▪
A Titian, or a Bonarota should
Cast thee a Statue of pure Ophir Gold:
Had'st thou thy due, the eager earth would sure
Anatomize one India for Ore
And precious stones, a Pyramid to reare,
Lasting and great as the Egyptian were,
To thy eternal memorie; and from
Th e eastern-lands bring all the plenteous sum
Of spices and perfumes, and on the height
Of that rich monument burn them day and night▪
But 'tis a thing impossibly too hard
For men on earth to give thee thy reward:
Thy God, whose power and love is infinite,
Thee hath, and doth, and ever will requite
[Page 69] Among the Chorus of Heavens Virgins pure,
To sing Divinest Anthems evermore.
The homely verses I have writ, she oft
Hath smil'd upon, approv'd them smooth and soft:
And if my pen hath power to give a fame,
Dear Isabella, here shall live thy Name.
Had I the deathless Homer's brain, and could
Sing lofty numbers like to Maro Old;
A wit to match Sulmonean Ovid, I
Had writ a Poem, not an Elegie.
▪Tis known, and I confess this is beneath
Her Life, and her expressions at her death:
Her resurrection plain will shew how well
She led her life, and bad the World Farewel.
3. On the death of Henry Lord Hastings, Son to the right Honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon, &c.
KNow all to whom these few sad lines shall come,
This melancholy Epicedium,
The young Lord Hastings death occasion'd it,
Amidst a [...]orm of Lamentations writ;
Tempests of sighes and grones, and flowing eyes
Whose yielding balls dissolve to Deluges:
And mournful Numbers that with dreadful sound
Waite his bemoned body to the ground,
Are all, and the last duties we can pay
The Noble Spirit that is fled away.
[Page 70] Tis gone, alas! tis gone, though it did leave
A body rich in all Nature could give;
Superiour in beauty to the youth
That won the Spartan Queen to forfeit truth,
Break wedlocks strictest bonds, and be his wife;
Environed with tumults all her Life.
His years were in the balmie Spring of Age
Adorn'd with blossomes ripe for marriage,
And but mature; His sweet conditions known
To be so good they could be none but's own.
Our English Nation was enamour'd more
On his full worth, then Rome was heretofore
Of great V [...]pa [...]an's Jew-subduing Heire,
The love and the Delight of mankind here.
After a large survey of Histories,
Our Criticks (curious in honour, wise
In paralleling generous Souls) will finde
This youthful Lord did bear as brave a minde.
His few but well spent years had master'd all
The liberal Arts: And his sweet tongue could fall
Into the ancient Dialects, dispence
Sacred Judeas amplest eloquence;
The La [...]ine Idiome elegantly true;
And Greek as rich as Athens ever knew:
Italy, France, and Spain, did all confess
Him perfect in their modern Languages,
At his Nativity, what angry Star
Malignant influences slung so far?
What Caput Algolls, and what dire Aspects,
Occasioned so tragical effects?
[Page 71] As soon as death this fatal blow had given,
I fancy mighty Clarence sigh'd in Heaven;
And till this glorious Soul arrived there,
Recover'd not from his Amaze and fear.
Had this befal'n in ancient credulous times,
He had been deifi'd by Poets rimes;
That Age enamour'd of his Graces, soon
Majestick Fanes (in adoration)
Would have rays'd to his memory, and there
On golden Altars (year succeeding year)
Burnt holy incense, and Sabaean Gums,
That Curles of vapour from those Hecatombs,
Sould reach his Soul in Heaven: but we must pay
No such Oblations in our purer way:
A nobler Service we him owe then that,
His fair example ever t'emulate.
With the Advantage of our double years
Lets imitate him, and (through all Affairs,
And all Encounters of our Lives) intend
To live like him, and make as good an end.
To aim at brave things is an evident signe
In Spirits, that to honour they incline;
And though they do come short in the Contest,
Tis full of glory to have done one's best.
You mournful Parents whom the Fates compel
To bear the Loss of this great miracle,
This wonder of our Times, amidst a sigh
(Surrounded with your thick'st Calamity)
Reflect on joy, think what an happiness
(Though humane Nature oft conceits it less)
[Page 72] It was to have a Son of so much worth,
He was too good to grace the wretched earth.
As silver Trent through our North Countries glides,
Adorn'd with Swans, & crown'd with flowry sides,
And rushing into mightier Humbers Waves,
Augments the Regal Aestuarium's Braves:
So he, after a life of eighteen years
Well mannaged Example to our Peeres,
In's early youth encountring sullen Fate,
(Orecome) became a Trophey to his State.
Didst thou sleep Hymen? or art lately grown
T'affect the Subterranean Region?
Enamour'd on bleard Libentina's eyes,
Hoarse-howling Dirges, and the baleful Cries
Of Inauspicious voices, and (above
Thy Star-like torch) with horrid tombs in love?
Thou art; or surely hadst oppos'd this high
Affront of death against thy Deity:
Nor wrong'd an excellent Virgin who had given
Her heart to him, who hath his Soul to Heaven;
Whose Beauties thou hast clouded, and whose eyes
Drowned in tears at these sad Exequies.
The fam'd Heroes of the golden Age,
Those Demigods whose vertues did asswage
And calm the furies of the wildest mindes
That were grown salvage even against their kinds,
Might from their Constellations have look'd down
And by this young Lord seen themselves out-gon.
Farewel (Admired Spirit) that art free
From this strict Prison of Mortalitie.
[Page 73] Ashby, proud of the honour to enshrine
The beauteous Body (whence the Soul Divine
Did lately part) be careful of thy trust,
That no profane hand wrong that hallow'd Dust.
The Costly Marble needes no friend t'engrave
Upon it any doleful Epitaph;
No good Man's tongue that Office will decline,
Whil'st years succeeding reach the end of time.
4. On the death of my dear Cousin Germane Mrs. Olive Cotton, who deceased at Berisford the 38th year of her Age, and lyes buried at Bently by Ashbourne, &c.
AMongst the many that shall celebrate
(With sighes and tears) this excellent womans Fate;
And with the many that shall fix a verse
(Sacred unto her Fame) upon her Herse;
World! pardon me my boldness, that intrude
These few poor lines upon thy Multitude:
They need not read them, I have my desire
If they but see my name, and look no higher:
But with my Sadness thou may'st well dispence
A tribute due to her Departure hence;
For from my soul I honoured her, and grieve
That I've but such small means to win beliefe.
Others may aim with a victorious Rhime
To vindicate her from the rage of time;
Our ablest Poets, whose each Distick may
Both Brass and Marble Statues wear away,
[Page 74] Last till the noble Soul again shall come
And take possession of her ancient Roome▪
Converting all their Funeral Elegies
(By that Reunion) t' Epithalamies;
And so by solemnizing her just worth,
Acquire themselves an endless Name on earth▪
I no Ambition have but to make known
Her merits, were my Admiration.
Her Conversation harmless was and free,
For neither Pride nor ill Discourse had she:
Her sweet Conditions all the vertues were,
Not studied, but habitual in her:
And (ere the fatal Feaver had begun
T'disturb her calm Soul's Habitation)
The beauteous body was a Palace fit
(Above all other) t'entertain in it
So Sublime, and so many vertues, such
As made old Saints and martyrs prais'd so much.
But she is gone, and we are left behinde
To mourn the want of worth in Woman-kinde▪
For femal vertues (as our fears surmize)
Are all with her return'd to Paradise.
And there (best Cousin) may your welcome b [...]
A Crown of Glory and Immortalitie.
5. A funeral Elegie on my Dear Cousin Mistress Elizabeth Reppington, who deceased at Ammington about the eighteenth year of her age, and lyes buried at Tamworth.
THe Contemplation of death to prize
Above all thoughts of humane vanities
A Sublime wisdom is, and makes Amends
For such sad Contemplations at our Ends.
Stifle therefore (my Muse) at their first birth
All thoughts that may reflect upon the earth:
Be meraphysical, disdaining to
Fix upon any thing that is below.
Fame set thy Trump unto thy lips, and sound
The world this sad newsfrom her hallow'd ground;
Elizabeth Reppington, that glorious Maid,
Hath left to guide us in this mortal shade
By her unparallel'd example; she
Hath chang'd all Finite for Infinity.
Her Grave all beauty doth include, for there
Two Suns eclips'd lie in one Hemisphere,
Enveloped with Clouds, thicker then those
Which the remotest Arctick doth impose.
Her humble Lovers, that like Persians pai'd
Devotion to the Beams of her fair Head,
(Whose hair their eyes in wonder did contain)
Continue to wish that Golden Fleece in vain:
Flowers more rich then graced Eden ever,
Lillie [...] and Roses there to dust do wither▪
[Page 76] Oracles too are ceas'd again, they from
The temple of her mouth had us'd to come.
A lurid paleness sits upon the skin
That did enclose the beau [...]eous body in:
As after a bright day Night do [...]h succeed,
And clothe high Heaven in a most horrid weed▪
Her hands a Consort were of musick, such
As skilfully bes [...] Instruments did touch,
Begetting harmony to emulate
What the Intelligencing Spirits create
By motion of the Spheres; yet now they lye
Uselesly here through deaths Impietie.
You that shall chance to read in these poor rhimes
This Virgins Fate, whose life did grace our times,
Whose Death this Nation justly may lament,
She being of it the prime Ornament;
And many vertues must a pattern prove
To all those generous Souls that vertue love:
Consider what a loss her Parents have
Whose Hopes are fal'n with her into the Grave;
(Her Graces grown to an unequal'd height)
Lying now sleeping in the longest night.
Yet any Soul but hers would have been glad
So fair and pure Confinement to have had:
But more illustrious hers, like a bright flame
Broke loose, and is return'd from whence it came▪
Where she enjoys all joys, smiles on our tears,
Wishing that ours as happy were as hers:
And her sweet Company and Conversation
We are depriv'd of, but by Contemplation▪
[Page 77] The maides that do in flowing Anchors streames
Conceal themselves from busie Phoebus beames,
(Upon whose Banks she us'd to walk, and smile
On the slow waters that past by the while)
Her immature Discease cease not to mone
Under each Willow, and on every stone.
The woods of Amington, which oft times she
Grac'd with her Presence to hear harmonie
From the Innocuous Quiristers of the Aire,
Now murmure for her loss in sad despaire;
The Dryades that there had wont to play,
Spending in weeping for her every day.
The Graces, that us'd thither to retire
To dance unto skilful Apollos Lyre,
As often since as they that way do come,
Sit down, and sing an Epicedium.
Thus I could prosecute; but being grown
Dull with so long a Lamentation,
My hand so trembling it can onely blot,
And Eies so fraught with tears that they see not;
I leave the World (though sorrow struck it faint)
To mourn her Loss, and make up my complaint.
6. A Funeral Elegie upon the Death of Mr. Thomas Pilkington, one of the Queens Musicians, Who deceased at Wolverhampton about the 35. year of his Age, and lies there buried.
AT the Report of so sad News sure soone
The grieved Nation will be out of tune▪
[Page 78] For Pilkington is dead, who did command
All Instruments with his unequal'd hand:
Mastring all Musick that was known before;
He did invent the Orphion, and gave more.
Though he (by playing) had acquir'd high Fame,
He evermore escap'd a Gamesters Name:
Yet he at Gamut frequent was, and taught
Many to play, till Death set his Gam out.
He was facetious, and did never carp,
Making that Musick which came from him sharp▪
His Flats were all Harmonious; not like theirs
Whose ebbs in prose or verse abuse our ears:
But to what end praise I his Flats, since that
He is grown One himself, and now lies Flat?
Others for Days mispent are charged with crime▪
But he a strict observer was of time.
Nothing escap'd his Study (by all votes)
Being most perfect of mankind at Notes.
Though he was often in his Moodes, they were
Such as rejoyc'd all mindes, and pleas'd each ear▪
The Muses two-clif'd Hill he did surpass;
Whose Musick had three Cliffs to do it Grace▪
With rashness none his Credit could impair,
Who did observe his Stops with so much Care▪
His Frets were gentle Ones, such as would be
Stop'd with a Finger, and make Harmonie▪
His Family agree so in their Hearts,
That they did make a Consort of five Parts;
(To be a Pattern unto every one)
Himself, his Wife, two Daughters, and a Son:
[Page 79] Though somtimes there might some Division run,
Twas for the best in the Conclusion;
For each learn'd Master in this Science knowes
Good Musick often hath from Discords rose.
A Large his generous heart was and a Long;
His Life was wish'd by all the happy Throng
Acquainted with his worths: But (in the chiese
Of all his Dayes) Death made it be a Briefe.
Crotchets he had good store, yet such as were
Harmonious, full of Spirit, life, and aire.
His Life was but a Minum, till his prime▪
When as old Age should last out Sembrief-time;
His proved over short, as if indeed
He were, Alas! to die by Quaver-speed.
Whose Loss our trembling Heart such wise lament,
As they like Semi, and Demi-Quavers went.
So he is gone (as Heaven hath thought i [...] best)
And (after all his pains) hath made a Rest.
Musicks best Instrument his body made,
Wherein his soul upon the Organs plai'd:
But Death was likewise Sacrilegious grown,
Who rudely hath those Organs overthrown.
For other Exequies what need we call?
Play o're his Hearse his own fam'd Funeral;
The doleful Aire that he compos'd, to mourn
For beauteous Reppingtons untimely Urne.
What need more words, when no words can declare
The Merits of a Man so wondrous rare?
He was too excellent for earth: And's gone,
To be in Heaven a prime Musician.
Letters to divers Persons.
1. To the Right Honourable John Lord Mohun Baron of Okehampton, my Ʋncle in Law▪
MY Lord, unto you now I have not writ
For Ostentation, or to boast my wit,
I know it weak; this onely is to shew
How willingly I'de pay the debt I owe;
Which though I cannot, I should be most rude
To let my Silence prove Ingratitude.
I must write therefore, though when I have done
I rest in silent Admiration.
Be you but pleas'd to reade, although tis true
I cannot draw a line deserveth you:
So gracious Kings will give their Subjects leave
To gratulate the Blessings they receive.
Let our most able Poets, such as can
Feign vertues for a well deserving Man,
Express with th'eloquence of all the Arts,
Half one of your Innumerable Parts:
I can but onely wonder and profess
I know so little that I cannot guess.
It were an easier matter to declare
The heights and depthes that in each Science are:
All Labyrinthes that Dialect affords,
And (Critick-like) which are the hardest words.
[Page 81] Of you a Character would be a task
Maeonides and Maro would not ask,
If for preeminence they were to write;
It is so weighty, and their skill so slight.
The fluent Singer of the Changes would
In imploration for Aide grow old:
And yet they were the Miracles of Wit,
Through all Times famous, and renowned yet;
Honour'd by Grandees of the world, and by
The Supreme beauty of sweet Italy.
Witness the conquering Macedonian Prince,
Who wept for envy Homer's eloquence,
And mighty Poesie rais'd to the Stars
Achilles Fame; and thunder'd not his wars:
And great Augustus who could easily slight
All other things, t'admire rich Virgil's height.
Witness bright Julia too, who far above
The Roman Princes all did Ovid love.
Happy was Orpheus that in former times
(To admiration) did rehearse his rhimes:
So was Amphion too, that long ago
His matchless skill in poetry did show.
Had they been your Contemporaries, they
(Whom all men did, and Salvages obey,
And rocks and trees) with all their study ne're
Could pen one line worth your attentive ear▪
Had great Aeacides your worthes, he so
Had not effected Hectors Overthrow:
He had been slain fairly or liv'd; for great
And worthy mindes unworthy Actions hate▪
[Page 82] Ajax was onely honour'd in the field;
Would you had pleaded for him, for the sheild,
The Ithacan disgrac'd away had gone,
And the blunt Souldier put the trophie on.
Comparisons are odious; I disgrace
You, to look on you by anothers face.
You Heaven-bred souls whom Phoebus doth inspire
From high Olympus with Poetick fire,
Bewail no more these ignorant wretched days;
This singular Lord will not withhold the Bays.
You Sisters that frequent the Thespian Spring,
And on Parnassus Io Paeans sing,
He hath been, and is now a Patron to you,
And in his own immortal Lays doth woe you.
Proceed my Lord, and let it be your Glory
No Chronicler dares put you in his Story:
For if your vertues verse cannot express,
I must believe that heavy Prose much less.
Again proceed, and let this move you to it;
Of your own worthes you must be your own Poet:
Or let your vertues rule Amazements throne,
To be expres'd by no Muse but your own:
And (lest from your own goodness you decline)
Pardon each fault that is in every line.
2. To my friend and Kinsman Mr. George Giffard, who cal'd his Mistress the Green Bird of France.
THe Necromancy of your love doth change
Your Mistress to a Bird, so to 'estrange
[Page 83] Her name from vulgar ears, and to conceal
Those harmless passages of love you steal:
And by this means be your heart what it will,
Your tongue's Platonick that can keep this still.
But sure your judgement and most curious eyes
Fancie no bird, but that of Paradise,
The Phoenix, or a third of mighty worth;
A wonder and a Glory to the earth.
Jove's Eagle's too aspiring to invite
Your mind to love, or love to apetite▪
The Doves of Venus you too gentle know;
And yours must give you cause to court and wo.
Minerva's Owl is onely for the Night;
And your fair Mistress doth become the light:
Saturnia's Peacock hath a gaudy train,
But feet too course such Colours to sustain:
Your Bird so curious is, she would disperse
The Clouds of prose, and make it run in verse.
She's not deriv'd from Magellanick Streights,
Where the most numerous Parat-Covey delights:
But from a richer Soyle, and may perchance
The Dolphin wake, to court the Bird of France:
But Caesars self might conquer Gaul anew,
And with his victories not trouble you.
Your fair green Bird of France doth know her power
Superiour to the roughest Conquerour;
Whil'st she resists no fort so strong as she,
Whose victour must her own consenting be.
Nor martial engine, sword, or piece can move
Her from your love while she will be your love.
[Page 84] But if her Resolution alter, then
Her how to you will you retrieve agen?
Like the mad lover make your heart the sure,
And that will bring her, or she'l come no more.
Had Hymen lighted his auspicious Pine,
And you joyn'd happy hands before his shrine,
Then would not you and your admired love
The Changes imitate of amorous Jove,
Who like a Swan fair Laeda did compress,
And on her got the Twins Tyndarides?
But why since Birds are of all colours seen,
Do you call her you most affect the Green?
The Firmament we see attir'd in blew,
But that too heavenly a Colour is for you.
The earth is green; and you do think most fit
That she be so, while she doth live on it.
The Sea is green, and Sea-born Venus was
Made beauties Goddess being most beauteous Lass!
And your fair One, whom you think Parallel
To her, you call the Green-Bird wondrous well.
All health I wish her, from each sickness free
But one, whose cure I do commit to thee:
If the Green Sickness she doth chance to get,
Your Love and Care of her may remed▪ it.
3. To the right honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon, &c.
MY Lord, I have not silent been so long
For want of zeal, but fear'd to do you wrong:
[Page 85] Could I but draw a line deserv'd your eyes,
Your name should from the earth touch at the skies.
But as the meanest Pesants came before
The greatest Caesars Rome did ere adore;
And as the gracious Gods no more despise
The poorest then the richest Sacrifice;
So I (my Lord) present my self to you,
And this slight humble verse unto your view.
Let our best Heralds, such as are most good,
Sail up the mighty Current of your blood,
And from the ancient and most glorious Stem
Of those that wore the English Diadem,
Blazon your pedegree, whil'st I admire
Your fair Conditions, sparks of honours fire.
To be born onely great, and not to be
Vertuous too, is, as we often see
The morning Sun rise clearly in the East,
Presently after be with Clouds opprest,
And (after one fair chearful blaze of light)
The day prove stormy till it mix with night.
But this concerns not you; you are as far
From all unworthiness, as is that star
That by the vertue of the Southerne stayes
This Mass of earth, and water in its place
From earth: And as those opposite Stars do poise
This Globe of earth, and Water midst the skies
Equally distant, in all places, from
The Heavens that round it in Circumference come.
Or to descend; As Mahomets tombe doth fix
By vertue of two Loadstones them betwixt;
[Page 86] So you (my Lord) for sweet Conditions known
Parallels to your high birth, stand alone
Unaim'd, and unarriv'd at, (to their ends)
Th' Amaze of all▪ and honour of your friends.
Accept this graciously my Lord! And know
'Tis but a Glimps of the respect I owe,
And but an Atome of the Service; For
Whole volumes would not be a Character.
4. To a Lady that was so like another that I cal'd her Picture.
I Call you Picture, and by your Consent;
Although I know you want no Ornament,
Nor any curious Arts use, to supply
Any defect in you to any eye.
You then are none, and do want Colours so (snow;
As heaven wants clouds▪ or Summers earth wants
Both which do both deform; And you therefore
To ou [...]vy heaven and earth admit no more.
You then no picture are, but unto those
That can become enamour'd on your clothes.
Vandike, Mitten, Geltrop▪ or Johnson may
Draw something like you; As a Summers day
May in the fleeting Clouds well counterfeit
Similitudes of things here, and not hit;
For 'tis impossible to Limn you right,
As 'tis the earthly Globe without a night.
To make your eyes were to amaze us all;
Make in your face two Suns rise; And to vail
[Page] Their glorious motions, no eclipses there
Can be more beautiful then your brown hair;
So doth the brightest star ofttimes repine
At it's own glory, and forbear to shine.
To name Apelles▪ and to wish him draw
Your Portraicture, could he perform't 'twere law
To future Limners; but your beauties height
All imitation doth transcend outright.
Your Lips are like the rosy buds of May;
And your even teeth the pearls of India;
Your mouth's the sweetest Magazin of bliss,
Where Cupids Dialect best spoken is.
Your loveliest Cheeks are the tru'st Hemispheres
Of beauty, triumphing above your Peeres.
This your first sitting is; when you sit next,
I shall be better pleas'd, and you more vext;
For I shall more admire your beauties store,
Though you be angry th'are so slubberd o're.
5. To my Mistress.
TO love you (Lady) is but just; we know
We have good eyes and Judgments that do so.
Your beauties are no Common Ornaments,
But Rarities, and plac'd (with excellence)
By Natures curious hand; That could entice
Even Jove from all his Glories, and the Skyes;
Make him reject his full triumphant way
O're Gods and men, and thunder cast away;
[Page 88] Depose himself from high Olympus, leave
Amaz'd the heavenly Deities, and beneath
Retire himself on earth to gaze on you,
More wonderful then all the Goddess Crew;
Make him forsake his stately Queens embrace,
Wise Pallas eyes, and amorous Venus Face,
His draughtes of Nectar fil'd by Ganymed,
And the sweet Lessons by Apollo plai'd;
His sister Juno had not been his Queen,
If you the [...]atelie [...] beauty he had seen.
His daughter Venus had not been enstal'd
Goddess of love, but you the Goddess cal'd:
Nor had Minerva (with the fair gray eyes)
Been crown'd for wisdom 'bove the Deities,
Had Jove heard your discourse; your words do fall
With such a ravishing force upon us all.
Immortal Phoebus that with glorious beams
All Nations lights, and gilds all Ocean streams;
In all his Progress yet did never view
A beauty so supreme, and bright as you.
Had Phaeton liv'd till now, and skilful been,
He would have given his Chariot unto him,
Left the Star-chequer'd Court, and (from the skies)
A light on earth in some unus'd disguise,
To court your smiles, more precious then his throne,
And all the glories that attend thereon;
And (in your company) swear by a kiss
He never was before in any bliss.
Your eyes are not the Sun and Moon; for they
Are equal lights, and both do rule by day:
[Page 89] Your Nose is such as doth become your face
Better, then the best other in that place.
Your mouth exceedes the breaking of the day;
For that is sweet when Night drives light away.
Your teeth surpass the milky way in Heaven,
More white then it, more wonderful, more even.
Your lips are smooth as Chrystal, red as is
Pure abstract redness, blessedness to kiss.
Your bosom's a new paradise of joy,
And undiscover'd to the vulgar eye.
Your hidden beauties do as much excell
All, all Art can invent, and all tongues tell;
As doth your body (magazin of joyes)
Exceed your clothes seen onely by our eyes.
But were this all, you onely did present
A curious Outside, picture, Ornament:
Your mind (brave Lady) is a thing above
All Objects yet of all the past worlds Love:
It is so gentle, sweet, and unconfin'd
In goodness, that it makes the body, minde:
Like the Philosophers Stone that mixing with
Worse metals, doth to them gold-substance give.
Let them therefore that do not wonder, when
They have seen you, be counted beasts not men.
6. To the Lady M.
BEst of your Sex, and handsomest to boot,
I here present you with no marriage-suit;
[Page 90] My Fate is fix'd, and I contented am,
Although sometimes I court another flame.
I dare not wish a wrong to your desert;
(Far be such thoughts for ever from my heart)
Yet must not be so cruel to my self,
As not from you to covet such a wealth,
Arabia's rich perfumes are nothing to,
Nor all the Spices all the East can show.
Sure my desire can be no Crime in me,
Nor your Consent can your dishonour be:
Else all the ancient Poets did devise
To cheat the modern with most Stygian lyes.
Wherefore should Jove neglect Saturnia's Love,
And all his endless happiness above?
Assume so many various Shapes t'enjoy
With humane beauties sensuality?
And glorious Phoebus cast his Rayes away,
With our fine Lasses here below to play?
Although grim Pluto the Infernal flames
Endures; his rage Proserpin's beauty tames.
Cynthia, whose chastity each Grecian pen,
And Roman wit, renowned left to men,
Victorious Love in triumph trampled on,
And made her wanton with Endimion.
These high examples we may imitate;
For Deities did nothing we should hate.
They, whom all nations for Heroick soules,
And vertuous Actions, above the Poles
Have [...]nthroniz'd, did nought we should condemn:
And therefore (Lovely One) let's follow them.
[Page 91] Strict Hymens rules wherefore should we obey,
Which on themselves the Gods did never lay?
Is it more honour to observe the lives
Of surly Cato's then the Deities?
Away with fear; 'Tis reason prompts you to
What I desire, and love, me what to do:
And therefore do not blush, unless it be
Because so many will envy thee and me:
Yet (Madam) know (after so much exprest)
I honour vertue, and have writ in jest.
7. To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton.
I Wonder (Cousin) that you would permit
So great an Injury to Fletcher's wit,
Your friend and old Companion, that his fame
Should be divided to anothers name.
If Beaumont had writ those Plays, it had been
Against his merits a detracting Sin,
Had they been attributed also to
Fletcher. They were two wits, and friends, and who
Robs from the one to glorifie the other,
Of these great memories is a partial Lover.
Had Beaumont liv'd when this Edition came
Forth, and beheld his ever living name
Before Plays that he never writ, how he
Had frown'd and blush'd at such Impiety?
His own Renown no such Addition needs
To have a Fame sprung from anothers deedes.
[Page 92] And my good friend Old Philip Massinger
With Fletcher writ in some that we see there.
But you may blame the Printers; yet you might
Perhaps have won them to do Fletcher right,
Would you have took the pains: For what a foul
And unexcusable fault it is (that whole
Volume of plays being almost every one
After the death of Beaumont writ) that none
Would certifie them so much? I wish [...]s free
Y'had told the Printers this, as you did me.
Surely you was to blame: A Forreign wit
Ownes in such manner what an English writ:
Joseph of Exeters Heroick piece
Of the long fatal war 'twixt Troy and Greece,
Was Printed in Corn [...]lius Nepos Name,
And robs our Countreyman of much of's fame.
'Tis true; Beaumont and Fletcher both were such
Sublime wits, none could them admire too much;
They were our English Polestars, and did beare
Between them all the world of fancie cleare▪
But as two Suns when they do shine to us,
The aire is lighter, they prodigious;
So while they liv'd and writ together, we
Had Plays exceeded what we hop'd to see.
But they writ few; for youthful Beaumont soon
By death eclipsed was at his high noon.
Surviving Fletcher then did pen alone
Equal to both, (pardon Comparison)
And suffer'd not the Globe, and Black-Friers Stage
T'envy the glories of a former Age.
[Page 93] As we in humane bodies see that lose
An eye, or limbe, the vertue and the use
Retreats into the other eye or limb,
And makes it double; So I say of him:
Fletcher was Beaumonts Heir, and did inherit
His searching judgement, and unbounded Spirit.
His Plays are Printed therefore as they were,
Of Beaumont too, because his Spirit's there.
8. To my Son Mr. Thomas Cokaine.
YOU often have enquir'd where I have been
In my years Travel; and what Cities seen
And s [...]ai'd in: of the which therefore (in brief)
I (for your satisfaction) name the chief.
When four and twenty years, and some moneths more
Of Age I was, I left our English Shore:
And in a thousand six hundred thirty two
Went hence, fair France and Italy to view.
At Roy July the sixteenth we took Ship,
And on the seventeenth did arrive at Deipe,
Henry the fourths secure retreat; where one
Night having lain I rode next day to Roan;
Thence in a Coach I did to Paris go,
Where then I did but spend a day or two.
Thence with the Lions messenger went thither,
And pass'd through Mont-Argis, Mollins, and Never.
In two days thence we did to Cambray get,
A City at the foot of Eglebet▪
[Page 94] At Maurein I din'd, and six days spent
Among the Alpes with high astonishment.
There dreadful Precepice, and horrid sound
Of water, and hills hid in Cloudes I found,
And trees above the Clouds on Mountains top,
And houses too; a wonder to get up.
On Mount-Sinese's top I did ride o're,
A smooth, and pleasant Plain, a League or more▪
Upon the which a large Fish-pool there is,
And one o'th Duke of Savoy's Palaces:
At the Plains End, a little Chappel, and
A pretty Inn do near together stand.
That night we did descend 'bove half the way,
Where first we heard Italian spoke, and lay.
Next morn we down to Susa rode, full glad
When Mount-Sinese we descended had:
And that same night to Turin came▪ where we
Staid but a day the Beauties of't to see.
There we took Coach for Millaine, and (by th'way)
A Dinners time did at Vercelli stay,
And at Novara lay a night, and stai'd
But at great Millaine one; such hast I made:
And but at Crema one, and by the Lake
Of stormy Garda did a dinner take.
Through the low Suburbs of high Bergamo
I rode, and that night did to Brescia go,
For works of Iron fam'd; And having past
Thorow Verona, by Catullus grac't,
Did at Vicenza dine, so forward went
Through Padoa, and (on the banks of Brent)
[Page 95] Saw many Palaces of pleasant Site,
And to the rich fam'd Venice came that night.
Thence (having stai'd there half a year) did go
Unto Ferrara by the river Poe,
Saving some four miles, where a Coach we took,
When Phaetons fatal River we forsook.
I at Ravenna din'd, Rimmini lay,
And the next Night did at Ancona stay;
A long days journey, wherein we betime
Pesaro rode through, did at Fano dine,
For hansome women fam'd; And (in our way)
Rid neer small, well-wall'd Siningaglia.
The next day at Loretto din'd, and there
View'd the Fair Church, and House fam'd every where:
Thorow long Recanati rode, and so
To Macerata in the Even did go.
Next day I din'd at Tolentin, and was
It'h Church of their renown'd Saint Nicholas.
Foligno and Spoletto having past,
Terin, and Narin, took a Nights repast
Within Otricoli, I the next day
Din'd at Rignano 'ith' Flaminian way:
And in the Evening afterwards did come
Thorow the Port del Popolo to Rome;
Where what the holy week, and Easter could
To strangers view afford, I did behold:
Where that old Cities wonders I did view,
And all the many Marvels of the new.
Three weeks I there made my abode, and then
For Naples took my travels up agen:
[Page] Of all Frascati's Wonders had a sight,
And thence unto Velletri rode that night;
At Terrachina lay the next. Then through
The Kingdom pass'd at Mola, took a view
Of Old Gaeta; thence to Capua rode,
Where onely I dinners time abode.
So I to Naples came, where three weeks stay
Made me the wonders thereabouts survey▪
I at Puzzolo was, there cross'd the Bay
(Fam'd for the bridge of proud Caligula)
To Baja, and that day a view did take
Of Aniana, and Avernus Lake.
The mortal Grott was in, and Sepulchre
Which murther'd Agrippina did interre:
Was in Sybilla's Cave, and on the Ground
Cal'd Vulcans Forge, yielding an hollow sound,
At Pausalip pass'd through that hollow path
Which Virgil for its primest Glory hath.
These and the rest beheld: One day got up
On evermore smoking Vesuvius top;
Vesuvius that two years before did throw
Such death and damage upon all below▪
Which burnt up grass, and trees did make appear;
And tore Griego that did stand too near.
Above three weeks I did at Naples stay,
Then (in a Galley) went to Genoa;
Which (in it) an Embassador did bear
To th' Cardinal Infante landed there,
Sent by the Vice-Roy to salute his hands,
Going t'be Governour oth' Netherlands▪
[Page 97] I there remain'd but a few days, but found
A vessel that was for Marseilles bound;
I in it thither pass'd, but by the way
Did at Savona land, and dinner stay.
I at Marseille▪ but two dayes abode,
And the next after to Avignion rode.
I din'd at Orange, and lay at Vienne,
And so to Lyons did return agen,
There stai'd a day, or two; and then did ride
Unto Roana on the Loyers side:
About three days and nights along that streame
We went by Boat, till we to Briack came.
There we did leave the River, and next morne
Unto Mount-Argis did again return.
The morning after we from thence did go,
And lay that Night at pleasant Fountain-Bleau.
Thence we to Conbril went, and (on the Seine)
To Paris thence by Boat did come again.
There I above two moneths then made a stay;
Save on Saint Dennis wonders spent a day.
After which time I went to Amiens,
There lay one night, and went to Calice thence.
As my stay serv'd, what ever was of Fame
Or note I visited where ere I came.
Four days I was in Calice, then cross'd over
The Sea in eight hours space, and came to Dover.
Encomiastick verses on several Books.
To my friend Mr. Thomas Randolph on his Play called the Entertainment, Printed by the name of the Muses Looking-Glass.
SOme austere Cato's be that do not stick
To term all Poetry base that's Dramatick:
These contradict themselves; For bid them tell
How they like Poesie, and they'l answer well.
But as a stately Fabrick rai [...]ed by
The curious Science of Geometrie,
If one side of the Machine pe ish all
Participates with it a ruinous fall:
So they are enemies to Helicon,
That vow they love all Muses saving one.
Such supercilious humours I de [...] ise,
And like Thalia's harmless Comedies.
Thy entertainment had so good a Fate
That whosoe're doth not admire thereat
Discloseth his own Ignorance; for no
True Moralist would be supposed thy foe.
In the pure Thespian Spring thou hast refin'd
Those harsh rude rules thy Author hath design'd:
[Page 99] And made those precepts which he did reherse
In heavy prose, to run in nimble verse.
The Stagarite will be slighted; who doth list
To read or see't becomes a Moralist:
And if his eyes and ears are worth thine Ore▪
Learn more in two hours then two years before.
Thou hast my suffrage Friend; And I would fain
Be a Spectator of thy Scenes again.
To my friend Mr. Philip Massinger, on his Tragi-comedy called the Emperour of the East.
SUffer (my Friend) these lines to have the grace
That they may be a mole on Venus face:
There is no fault about thy book but this,
And it will shew how fair thine Emperour is.
Thou more then Poet! our Mercury, that art
Apollo's Messenger, and dost impart
His best expressions to our ears, live long
To purifie the slighted English Tongue.
That both the Nymphes of Tagus and of Po
May not henceforth despise our language so:
Nor could they do it if they ere had seen
The machless features of the Faery Queen;
Read Johnson, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, or
Thy neat-lin'd pieces (skilful Massinger.)
Thou known, all the Castellians must confess
De Vega Carpio thy foil, and bless
His Language can translate thee, and the fine
Italian wits yield to this work of thine.
[Page 100] Were old Pythagoras alive again,
In thee he might finde reason to maintain
His Paradox, that Souls by transmigration
In divers bodies make their habitation:
And more; that all poetick Souls yet known
Are met in thee contracted into one.
This is a truth, not an applause; I am
One that at farthest distance view thy flame,
Yet dare pronounce, that were Apollo dead,
In thee his Poetry might all be read.
Forbear thy modesty: thy Emperours vein
Shall live admir'd, when Poets shall complain
It is a pattern of too high a reach,
And what great Phoebus might the muses teach.
Let it live therefore, and I dare be bold
To say, It with the world shall not grow old.
To my Friend Mr. Philip Massinger on his Tragi-comedy called the Maid of Honour.
WAs not thine Emperour enough before
For thee to give, that thou dost give us more?
I would be just but cannot; that I know
I did not slander, this I fear I do▪
But pardon me if I offend; thy fire
Let equal poets praise whil'st I admire.
If any say that I enough have writ;
They are thy Foes, and envy at thy wit.
Believe not them nor me: they know thy Lines
Deserve applause, and speak against their mindes.
[Page 101] I out of Justice would commend thy Play:
But (Friend) forgive me, 'tis above my way.
One word, and I have done: and (from my heart)
Would I could speak the whole truth, not the part:
Because 'tis thine, It henceforth shall be said,
Not th'maid of honour, but the honour'd maid.
Of Mr. John Fletcher his Plays, and especially the Mad Lover.
WHil'st his well organ'd Body doth retreat
To it's first matter, and the formal heat
Triumphant fits in judgement to approve
Pieces above our Candor and our love;
Such as dare boldly venture to appear
Unto the curious eye, and Critick ear:
Lo! the Mad Lover in these various times
Is prest to life t'accuse us of our Crimes.
Whil'st Fletcher liv'd, who equal to him writ
Such lasting monuments of natural wit?
Others might draw their lines with sweat, like those
That with much pains a Garrison enclose,
Whil'st his sweet fluent vein did gently run
As uncontrol'd, and smoothly as the Sun.
After his Death our Theatres did make
Him in his own unequal'd Language speak:
And now (when all the Muses out of their
Approved modesty silent appear)
This Play of Fletchers braves the envious Light,
As wonder of our ears once, now our sight.
[Page 102] Three and fourfold best Poet, who the lives
Of Poets and of Theatres survi'st!
A Groom or Ostler of some wit, may bring
His Pegasus to the Castalian Spring;
Boast he a Race ore the Pharsalian plain,
Or happy Tempe valley dares maintain;
Brag at one leap upon the double Cliffe
(Were it as high as monstrous Temariffe)
Of far renown'd Parnassus he will get,
And there t'amaze the world confirm his seat:
When our admired Fletcher vaunts not ought,
And slighted every thing he writ as nought;
Whil'st all our English wondring world (in's cause)
Made this great City eccho with applause:
Read him therefore all that can read, and those
That cannot, learn; If y'are not Learnings Foes,
And willfully resolved to refuse
The gentle Raptures of this happy Muse.
From thy great Constellation (noble Soul)
Look on this Kingdom, suffer not the whole
Spirit of Poesie retire to Heaven,
But make us entertain what thou hast given.
Earthquakes and thunder Diapasons make,
The Seas vast rore, and Irresistless shake
Of horrid winds a Sympathie compose;
So that in these there's musick in the close:
And (though they seem great discords in our ears)
The cause is not in them, but in our fears.
Granting them musick, how much sweeter's that
Mnemosyne's daughters voices do create?
[Page 103] Since Heaven, and earth, and Seas and air consent
To make an harmony (the Instrument
Their own agreeing selves) shall we refuse
The musick that the Deities do use?
Troy's ravish't Gamymed doth sing to Jove;
And Phoebus self playes on his Lyre above.
The Cretan Gods, or glorious men who will
Imitate right, must wonder at thy skill,
Best Poet of thy times! or he will prove
As mad, as thy brave Memnon was with love▪
To my very good Friend Mr. Thomas Bancroft on his Works.
A Done (my friend) lay pen and paper by,
Y'ave writ enough to reach eternity;
In soft Repose assume thy happy Seat
Among the Laureats to judge of wit:
Apollo now hath cal'd you to the Bench
For your sweet vein, and fluent eloquence;
Whose many works will all rare patterns stand,
And deathless Ornaments unto our Land,
Belov'd, admir'd and imitated by
All those great souls that honour poesie.
Against th'approch of thy last hour, when
He thee shall call from the abodes of men,
(In his own Quire (for thy exceeding Art)
Among renowned wits to sing a part)
Nor you, nor any friend need to prepare
Marble or brass a Pyramid to reare,
[Page 104] To thy continuall memory, nor with
A Mausoleum hope to make thee live:
All such materials time may devour,
But ore thy works shall never have a power.
While nimble Darwen Trent augments, and while
The streams of Thames do glorifie our Isle,
And th' English tongue whiles any understand,
Thy lines shall be grace unto this Land.
Our Darbyshire (that never as I knew
Afforded us a Poet untill you)
You have redeem'd from obloquie, that it
Might boast of wooll▪ and lead, but not of wit.
Virgil (by's birth) to Mantua gave renown,
And sweet-tongu'd Ovid unto Sulmo town,
Catullus to Verona was a fame;
And you to Swarton will become the same.
Live then (my friend) immortally, and prove
Their envy that will not afford thee love.
To Mr. Humphry C. on his Poem entitled Loves Hawking Bag.
SIR, I applaud your enterprise, and say
Y'our undertaking was a bold assay:
But you have nobly don't, and we may read
A work that all old Poems doth exceed.
Avant you Grecian Mungrils, with your Scraps
Fal'n from linde Homers, or did Hesiods chaps:
Musaeus too▪ (for all Scaligers cracking)
With Hero and Leander may be packing.
[Page] Virgil be gon! we hate thy slandrous tongue,
For doing the chast Queen of Carthage wrong.
Venusian Horace too hereafter may
Put up his pipes, and hearken to thy Lay.
Ovid, thy several witty Poems, all
From hence to Pontus into exile call.
Valerius Flaccus, hang thy Golden Fleece
Before some honest Tavern door in Greece.
Silius Italicus hence get thee far
With all the tumults of thy Punick war:
And Spanish Lucan quickly call away
Caesar and Pompey to Pharsalia.
Statius thy Theban story leave to brag:
And listen all unto Loves-Hawking Bag.
Chaucer, we now commit thee to repose,
And care not for thy Romance of the Rose.
In thy grave at Saint Edmonds Bury, thy
Hector henceforth (Lydgate) may with thee ly;
Old Gower (in like manner) we despise,
Condemning him to silence for his Cryes.
And Spencer, all thy Knights may (from this time)
Go seek Adventures in another Clime.
These Poets were but Footposts that did come
Halting unto's, whom thou hast all outrun:
For Sol hath lent thee Pegasus the Nag,
To gallop to us with Loves-Hawking Bag;
And welcome (mighty Poet) that alone
Art fit to sit with Phoebus in his throne.
To Mr. James Stronge Bachelour, upon his wonderful Poem called Joanareidos.
WHat a fine piece of poetrie appears!
Such as hath not been seen these many years:
So strange for matter, and so strangly writ
That Joanareidos is matchless yet.
The Iliads and Odysses must give way,
And fam'd Aenaeados yield up the day:
The high Austriados must also yield,
And Mortem [...]riados leave the field.
For where's that poet (all the world among)
That must not vail the bonnet to James Strong?
Thou bachelour of Arts, or rather bungler,
Or bachelour in life to whom the stronglier (sluts,
(What else should move thee to commend thy
That might'st have spent thy time in cracking nuts,
Or looking birds-nests? or (what's best of these)
In eating butter'd cake, or tosted cheese)
Hail our James Strong! (Strong James!) whose every line
Draws like a cable all our wondring ey'ne,
And general applause from friends and foes,
And many strangers up and down (he trowes.)
O 'tis a wondrous book; each word doth smell
As if't had something in it of a spell:
The lines are charming, and (if I guesse right)
They will bewitch women to scold and fight.
Old Robin Hood your western dames excel
Scarlet, and little John, and Adam Bell,
And all the out-laws of the Greenwood tree.
Had Guy of Warwicke and the bold Sir Bevyes,
Stukely, and Jonny Armstrong made their levies
Of the most valiant Souldiers of their time,
And come to this siege▪ th'had been bet at Lime.
The Chubs in buff trembled, when (like to Turks)
The saw thy Joanes to rage upon the works, (plight,
They might have burnt their foes in piteous
Had they but been their bed-fellows a night.
But oh! their fury was so rash, they kept
That fire within, for those they did protect:
So (for their zeal unto the [...]ause) perhaps
They pay'd them with a plaudite of claps.
Merciless then they were (there is no doubt)
That spar'd no friends within, nor foes without.
Nor within walls onely their valour lay,
But field too, as thy title page doth say:
And I believe their mettle they have shown
Under some Hedges, if the truth were known.
But I digress their power to relate,
It is a theme onely becomes thy pate.
I for thy pains (if such there can be found)
Wish thee one of thy Joanes, and that Joane sound;
That thou may'st lime her, and (on her) in time,
Beget a race of Joanes to fight for Lime.
O happy New-Inn-Hall! (where thou hadst luck
Such savoury dregs of poetry to suck)
For all will say it henceforth must excel
(For rhiming) Kates-Hall and Emanuel.
[Page] This Nation may report (upon their Oathes)
As Coriate did exceed for writing Prose;
So thou for penning an Heroick Song
Dost all surpass; In meeter being James Strong.
A Praeludium to Mr. Richard Bromes Plays.
THen we shall still have Plays, and though they may
Not them in their full Glories yet display;
Yet we may please our selves by reading them,
Till a more noble Act this Act condemn.
Happy will that day be, which will advance
This Land from durt of precise Ignorance;
Distinguish moral vertue, and rich wit,
And graceful Action, from an unfit
Parenthesis of Coughes, and Hums and Haes,
Threshing of Cushions, and Tautologies:
Then the dull zelots shall give way, and fly,
Or be converted by bright Poesy;
Apollo may enlighten them, or els
In Scottish Grots they may conceal themselves.
Then shall learn'd Johnson reassume his Seat,
Revive the Phoenix by a second heat,
Create the Globe anew, and people it,
By those that flock to surfeit on his wit.
Judicious Beaumont, and th'ingenious soul
Of Fletcher too may move without control.
Shakespeare (most rich in humours) entertain
The crouded theatres with his happy vein.
Shall be cri'd up again for famous men:
And the Dramatick Muse no longer prove
The peoples malice, but the peoples love.
Black, and White-Friars too shall flourish again,
Though here have been none since Queen Mary's reign:
Our theatres of lower note in those
More happy days shall scorn the rustick prose
Of a Jack-Pudding, and will please the Rout
With wit enough to bear their Credit out.
The Fortune will be lucky, see no more
Her Benches bare as they have stood before:
The Bull take Courage from applauses given,
To eccho to the Taurus in the heaven:
Lastly, Saint James may no Aversion show,
That Socks and Buskins tread his Stage below.
May this time quickly come, these days of bliss
Drive Ignorance down to the dark Abyss:
Then (with a justly attributed praise)
We'l change our faded Brome to deathless Bayes.
To my worthy, and learned Friend Mr. William Dugdale, upon his Warwickshire Illustrated.
THey that have visited those forreign Lands
Whence Phoebus first our Hemisphere cōmands;
And they that have beheld those Climes, or Seas
Whence he removes to the Antipodes:
Have follow'd him his Circuit through, and been
In all those parts that day hath ever seen,
[Page 110] (Although their number surely is but few)
Have not (learn'd friend) travel'd so much as you;
Though in your study you have sat at home,
Without a mind about the world to rome.
Witnesse this so elaborate piece; how high
Have you oblig'd us by your Industry!
We may be careless of our fames, and slight
The pleasing trouble any books to write:
The Nobles and the Gentry (that have there
Concerne) shall live for ever in your Shire.
Our names shall be immortal, and when at
The period of inevitable fate
We do arrive, a poet needes not come
To grace an Herse with's Epicedium.
Marble and brass for tombes we now may spare,
And for an Epitaph forbear the Care:
For, for us all (unto our high content)
Your book will prove a lasting monument.
And such a work it is, that England must
Be proud of (if unto your merit just;)
A grace it will unto our Language be,
And Ornament to every Library.
No old, or modern rarity we boast,
Henceforth shall be in danger to be lost:
Your worthy book comes fortunately forth;
For it again hath builded Killingworth.
Maugre the rage of war or time to come
Aston shall flourish till the general doome:
And the Holts Progeny shall owe as much
Unto your lines, as him that made it such.
[Page 111] The Spires and walls of Coventry your pen
Hath built more lasting then the Hands of men.
The prospects of our noble seats you shall
Secure from any ruine may befall:
Our pleasant Warwick, and her Castle (that
Surveyes the streams of Avon from her seat)
Your Labours more illustrious have made
Then all the Reparations they e're had.
Victorious Guy you have reviv'd, and he
Is now secure of Immortality.
Even my beloved Pooley that hath long
Groan'd underneath sinister fortunes wrong,
Your courteous eyes have look'd so kindly on,
That now it is to it's first splendor grown;
Shall slight times devastations, and o're
The banks of Anchor flourish evermore;
For there's such vertue in your powerful hand,
That every place you name shall ever stand.
The skilfullest Anatomist that yet
Upon an humane body e're did sit,
Did never so precisely show his Art,
As you have yours, in your Cor [...]avian part:
You (in your way) do them in theirs exceed,
You make the dead to live, they spoil the dead.
Now Stratford upon Avon, we would choose
Thy gentle and ingenuous Shakespeare Muse,
(Were he among the living yet) to raise
T'our Antiquaries merit some just praise:
And sweet-tongu'd Drayton (that hath given renown.
Unto a poor (before) and obscure town,
[Page 112] Harsull) were he not fal'n into his tombe,
Would crown this work with an Encomium.
Our Warwick-shire the Heart of England is,
As you most evidently have prov'd by this;
Having it with more spirit dignifi'd,
Then all our English Counties are beside.
Hearts should be thankfull; therefore I obtrude
This testimony of my gratitude.
You do deserve more then we all can doe:
And so (most learned of my friends) Adieu.
To my learned friend Mr. Thomas Bancroft upon his Book of Satyres.
AFter a many works of divers kindes,
Your Muse to tread th' Aruncan path designes;
'Tis hard to write but Satyres in these dayes,
And yet to write good Satyres merits praise:
And such are yours, and such they will be found
By all clear Hearts, or penitent by their wound.
May you but understanding Readers meet,
And they will find your march on stedfast feet.
Although your honest hand seems not to stick
To search this Nations Ulcers to the quick,
Yet your Intent (with your Invective Strain)
Is but to lance, and then to cure again,
When all the putrid matter is drawn forth
That poisons precious Souls, & clouds their worth▪
So old Petronius Arbiter appli'd
Corsives unto the age he did deride:
Those ancient Romans) scourg'd the impious throng:
So Ariosto (in these later times)
Reprov'd his Italy for many crimes:
So learned Barclay let his Lashes fall
Heavy on some, to bring a cure to all.
So lately Withers (whom your Muse doth far
Transcend) did strike at things Irregular.
(But all in one t'include) So our prime wit
(In the too few short Satyres he hath writ)
Renowned Don hath so rebuk'd his times,
That he hath jear'd vice-lovers from their crimes.
Attended by your Satyres, mounted on
Your Muses Pegasus (my friend) be gone,
(As er'st the Lictors of the Romans went
With Rods and Axes (for the Punishment
Of Ill) born with them) that all vice may fly (nigh.
(That dares not stand the Cure) when you draw
To my most honoured Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton the younger, upon his excellent Poems.
BEar back you Croud of Wits, that have so long
Been the prime Glory of the English tongue;
And room for our Arch-Poet make, and follow
His steps, as you would do your great Apollo:
Nor is he his Inferiour, for see
His Picture, and you'l say that this is he;
[Page 114] So young, and handsome both, so tress'd alike,
Thar curious Lilly, or most skil'd Vandike
Would prefer neither: Onely here's the odds,
This gives us better verse, then that the Gods.
Beware you Poets that (at distance) you
The reverence afford him that is due
Unto his mighty merit, and not dare
Your puny thrids with his lines to compare;
Lest (for so impious a pride) a worse
Then was Arachne's Fate, or Midas curse,
Posterity inflicts upon your fames,
For ventring to approch too near his Flames;
Whose all-commanding Muse disdains to be
Equal'd by any, in all Poesy.
As the presumptuous Son of Clymene
The Suns command importun'd for a day
Of his unwilling Father, and for so
Rash an attempt fell headlong into Po;
So you shall fall, or worse; not leave so much
As empty names, to show there once were such.
The Greek and Latine Language he commands,
So all that then was writ in both those Lands:
The French and the Italian he hath gain'd,
And all the wit that in them is contain'd:
So, if he pleases to translate a piece
From France, or Italy, Old Rome, or Greece,
The understanding Reader soon will find
It is the best of any of that kind;
But when he lets own rare Fancy loose
There is no flight so Noble as his Muse:
[Page 115] Treats he of War? Bellona doth advance,
And leads his March with her refulgent Lance:
Sings he of Love? Cupid about him lurks,
And Venus in her Chariot draws his works▪
What e're his subject be, he'l make it fit
To live hereafter Emperour of wit.
He is the Muses Darling; All the Nine
Phoebus disclaim, and term him more Divine.
The wondrous Tasso that so long hath born
The sacred Laurel, shall remain forlorn:
Alonso de Ercilla that in strong
And mighty Lines hath Araucana song:
And Salust that the ancient Hebrew-story
Hath Poetiz'd, submit unto your Glory:
So the chief Swans of Tagus, Arne and Seine,
Must yield to Thames, and vail unto your streine.
Hail generous Magazin of Wit; you bright
Planet of Learning, dissipate the Night
Of Dulness, wherein us this Age involves,
And (from our Ignorance) redeem our soules.
A word at parting Sir, I could not choose
Thus to congratulate your happy Muse:
And (though I vilifie your worth) my zeal
(And so in mercy think) intended well.
The world wil find your Lines are great & stronge▪
The Nihil Ultra of the English Tongue.
To my learned Friend Mr. Thomas Bancroft, on his Poem entituled the Heroick Lover.
FRom your retir'd abode in Bradley town
Welcome (my Friend) abroad to fair renown.
Nova Atlantis and Utopia you
Again expose unto the publick view
By your Heroick piece; unknown before
To all Mankind, but Bacon, and to More.
To the tripartite world Columbus er'st
The Western India discover'd first;
Yet after his more curious Survey
Vesputius much on's Glory took away,
By giving it his Name: So (though those two
Most learned Lords did first those countries shew)
You by your Antheon, and his fair delight
Far-sought Fidelta, skilfully unite
Utopia and Atlantis: what they two
[...] to their Pens, they both owe you.
Nor Belgium, Italy, nor France, nor Spain,
Nor Graecia, nor Sicilia could constrain
(With their most tempting Objects) your brave Knight
To yield submission to a false delight.
Although Sir Antheon did refrain to run
The monstrous Courses of the Knight o'th Sun,
(Whose Fablers so strange tales of him rehearse,
That such untruths never appear'd in verse)
[Page 117] Those Countrey beauties he despis'd, and pelf;
Others o'recome others, but he himself:
And of all victories it is the best
To keep our own wilde appetites supprest.
Hereby his prowess he did most discover,
And hence you term him the Heroick Lover.
Your fair Fidelta did not range about
Ʋtopian Cities to find Suitors out:
A free well-order'd house she kept, and there
Sir Antheon met with her, and married her.
Joy, or long life, I need not wish them either,
They in your Lines shall happy live for ever:
And you (for penning their high Epick Song)
With Laurel crown'd, shall live ith' Poets throng.
A MASQUE Presented at Bretbie in Darbyshire On Twelfth-Night. 1639.
The Prologue
To be spoken by whom the Masquers shall appoint.
TO you great Lord, and you most excellent Lady,
And all this wel-met, wellcome Company,
Thus low I bow: And thank, that you will grace
Our rude Solemnities with such a presence.
The Lar Familiaris of the house being proud of so much and great Company, and glad of their free and noble Entertainment, appears to congratulate the hospitality of the Lord and Lady, and speaks these lines.
BEtter then I could wish! Superlative
To all relations, not examples now!
[Page 119] I've known the Houshold Gods of Rome & Greece,
And all the good Penates of fam'd Troy,
Heard what they could triumph in, of their Fates;
Tell jovial stories of the frolick Greek [...],
And the great Banquets of fam'd Ilium;
Have been inform'd of Egypts glorious Feasts
To entertain the Courtly Anthony:
Yet was there or Necessity, or pride,
Or empty prodigality in all.
Here is a Course steer'd even, and voluntary;
And I rejoyce, as much as Ganymed,
Olympus Nectar, and Ambrosia Keeper.
Here I grow fat with plenty of all sorts
That either Seas, or Land, or Air can yield;
And here I live as well admir'd, as envi'd
By all the Lares of all other Places:
For there's a Constancie in my delights,
A blest Elyzium where I do not want
The tithe of any wish I ever thought.
The proudest Lares of the greatest Princes
May boast of state, and languish in a noise,
Whil'st here I live secure, and do enjoy
As much of every thing, but fears and dangers.
And may it last while Fate attends on time,
Until the supreme Deities of Heaven
Think you too worthy to adorn the earth,
And mean to fix you glorious Stars in Heaven:
And whiles there's air but to receive a Sound,
May your Names busie it to speak your praise▪
Continue ever matchless, as you are
A Pair without Compare, and but a Pair,
[Page 120] A Satyre invited by the Loudness of the Musick, and the perpetual concourse of people to inform himself to what end all tended, comes boldly in, and meets with the Lar Familiaris.
Lar.
What means this bold Intrusion?
Sat.
Friend, forbear,
Though I was born ith' Woods, and rudely bred
Among the Salvages, I have a mind
Aspires the knowledge of great Princes Courts,
And to what end aimes all this jollity
In yours as well as others Palaces.
Lar.
Dost thou approch to censure our delights,
And nip them in the bud? Satyre! take heed
We'l hunt you hence through al the woods&launs,
And over all the brooks thine eyes have seen.
Sat.
You threaten more perhaps then you can do:
What art?
Lar.
I am this Palace Deity.
Sat.
I wish tho [...] wert a Servant unto Pan,
Or any God that doth frequent the Fields.
Lar.
So would not I: I'm better as I am.
Sat.
Thy Ignorance bewitches thee to this:
Thou liv'st among all fears, all noise, all cares,
While I walk merry under heavens bright eye.
We in the Fields are free from any Sin
Against th'almighty Deities of Heaven:
We know no Law but natures; do not tremble
At Princes frowns; have neither fear nor hope;
[Page 121] And are content, a State the Gods exceed not.
You languish in a perpetuity
Of thoughts as unconfin'd as are your ends
You truly lavish all your faculties
In getting covetous wealth, which we contemn.
Your sleeps are starting, full of dreams and fears;
And ours as quiet as the Barks in Calmes.
The youthful spring makes us our Beds of flowers,
And heaven-bright summer washeth us in springs
As clear as any of your Mistress's eies:
The plenteous Autume doth enrich our Banquets
With earths most curious fruits, & they unbought:
The healthful Winter doth not pain our bones,
For we are arm'd for cold, and Heat in Nature.
We have no unkind loves in meads or fields,
That scorn our tears, or slight our amorous sighes.
Nor are we frantick with fond jealousie,
The greatest curse Iove could inflict on's Queen,
For all her curious search into his Life:
We in the woods esteem that Beast the stateliest
That hath his head the richliest spread with horns.
The Golden Age remains with us, so fam'd
By your Athenian and Roman Poets.
Thus we enjoy what all you strive to get
With all the boundless riches of your wit.
Lar.
Satyre! When I but say th'art Ignorant,
Thy flourishing Boast is answered at the full.
Sat.
But I desire a larger way.
Lar.
And take it.
Canst thou compare the Rags of nakedness
[Page] Before the studied dressings of these times?
And canst thou like a cold and stony Cave
Before the perfum'd Beds of Palaces?
Admire the Melancholie falls of waters,
Or whistling Musick of th' inconstant windes,
The chirping discords of the wanton Birds,
Above the Angel-voices of our Ladies,
And th'exquisite variety of Musick
Order'd to thousand several Instruments?
Content to cloy thy homely Appetite
With Crabs, and Slows, and Nuts, and rude mixt herbs,
Before the stately Banquets of the Great?
How canst thou like Beasts inarticulate voices
Above the Heaven-given eloquence of men?
Forsake the Woods (fond Satyre) and but try
The unthought difference 'twixt them and us.
The Hills are fit for Beasts: Converse with men,
And thou wilt never like thy Cause agen.
Sat.
Thou almost dost perswade me: but then I
Shall leave mine old, and honest Company.
Lar.
Thy new Ones shall exceed them. Her's a
Wil give thee wine as rich as is thy blood:
And her's a Cook will clothe thy bones with flesh Butler
As rich as was young Jason's Golden Fleece.
Sat.
Well: I will live with thee.
Lar.
And welcome Satyre.
Sat.
Spite of the Fates, and Grecia's best Protector,
I'le be Achilles, and o'recome by
The Cooks Name.
Hector.Lar.
A resolution worthy thy Sylvanus.
Sat.
But for my last Farewell unto the Woods,
For we do dance as much as they that live
In Princes Courts, and Tissue-Palaces.
First Song.
YOU Satyres that in Woods
Have frozen up your bloods,
Advance your selves, and show
What great Pan's men can do;
Appear.
Here you had need beware,
And move as swift as Air:
These are not Sylvane Swaines,
But Courtly Lords and Dames Sit here.
The Antimasque.
Satyres rudely but decently attired, stuck with Flowers, and Bayes-Chaplets on their heads, come in, and dance as many several Anticks, and in as many several shapes, as shall be necessary. Being ready to depart, two excellent youths in rich apparel, come striving in together; to whom the Lar speaks.
Lar.
What do you mean (sweet Boys) to interrupt
Our sports? I pray you leave your wrestling thus,
And do not strike your skins, too soft for blows.
1.
He would out-run me, and be kist before me.
2.
[Page 124]And he leave me among these dreadful Satyres.
Lar.
Whence come you?
1.
We both were left i'th woods, and tempted by
Such things as these to live abroad with them.
Lar.
What would you have?
1.
I would go to my Father.
2.
And I unto my Mother.
Lar.
Who is your Father?
1.
The ever honour'd Earl of Chesterfield,
Worthy of all his Titles by his vertues;
And full of Noble thoughts. A great maintainer
Of our great Grand-Fathers vertue, Hospitality:
The Feeder of the poor; whose Gate's so open,
It doth not need the Office of a Porter:
Whose House is now Delphian Apollo's seat:
For he's the Patron of all Arts and Wit.
Lar.
And who is your Mother, pretty One!
2.
She is the Countess to that Noble Lord;
A Lady worthy more then earth can give her:
Rich in those vertues make her Sex admir'd;
A fair exceeder of the best examples
That Greek or Roman stories e're produc'd:
Goddess of Tame, of Anchor, and of Trent.
She's such an one as hath none equal to her,
And therfore you may very easily know her.
Lar.
I know them both, and honor'd in my knowledge:
Sweet youth! yon'd is your Father, kiss his hand:
And that (fair little One) th'unequal'd Lady
You asked for: go, and beg a kiss of her.
[Page 125] Here the Lord of the House gives his hand to his Son, and the Countess kisses her Son. Then the Satyre speaks to his Companions.
Sat.
Fellows, since you have done, Farewel: I'le leave you
And all the rural Pastimes of the woods:
I like this noble Company so well,
That I hereafter here intend to dwel.
The Anti-Masquers depart: then the Lar Familiaris speaks to the Satyre.
Lar.
Now (Satyre) I will let thee see how far
The Palace-pleasures do exceed the Woods.
The Lar leads the Satyre to a curious bower, all deckt with the best and finest flowers of the season: and opens a wide entry into it, where sitting upon pleasant banks, full of the sweetest herbs and delicatest flowers, he discovers the Masq [...]ers: then presently invites them forth with this song.
1. Second song.
IT is unfit we should be dumbe,
When beauties like to those of Heaven
To grace our mirths are hither come,
And help to make our measures even.
Then let us dance, and let us sing,
Till Hills and Dales with Eccho's ring.
2.
Now it is fit our Souls should know
No thought but what is full of pleasure;
That we our sorrows should out-go,
And tread them down in every measure,
Then let us dance and let us sing,
Till Hills and Dales with Eccho's ring.
3.
'Tis mirth that raiseth up the Minde,
And keeps Diseases from the Heart:
Sports harmless never were inclin'd
To cherish vice, but to divert.
Then let us dance, and let us sing,
Till Hills and Dales with Eccho's ring.
Here the Grand Masquers come forth; the Ladys drest like the ancient Goddesses; then the Lar speaks to the Satyre.
Lar.
Satyre sit, and observe a while alone:
For I do mean to mix with these in Dance.
Here they Dance what or as many Set-dances as they please, the Masquers being Men and Women, or onely Women: When they have danced all they intended, the Lar, or one of the Masquers invites the Spectator-Ladyes with this song to joyn with them.
1. Third song.
COme Ladyes rise, and let us know
Now you have seen, what you can do;
Harke how the Musick doth invite
All you to Solemnize this Night:
Then let the Sounds that you do hear
Order your feet unto your ear.
O rise! rise altogether,
And let us meet:
Musick's Divine, and well may joyn
Our motions rude unto a sweet.
2.
The Figures of the Magick Art
We'l equall in a better part:
Judicial Astrologie
Cannot cast such an one as we:
Adde but your skill (as we desire)
And wee'l keep time to Phoebus Lyre.
O rise! rise altogether,
And let us meet:
Musick's Divine, and well may joyn
Our Motions rude unto a sweet.
Here all the Company dance what they please, and while they please; when they leave, the Lar, or one of the Masquers, sings this to the spectator Ladyes, as they go from them.
Fourth song.
LAdyes enough; we dare not
Tempt you to more then this;
Now may your Servants spare not
To give each of you a kiss:
If we were they you should have them
To recompence your pain:
O happy they that gave them,
And may give them again!
'Tis late; Goodnight: go sleep, and may
Soft slumbers crown your eyes till day.
This being sung, the Masquers, the Lar Familiaris, and the Satyre, go into the Arbour, which closes on them.
An Epithalamium, design'd for the Nuptials of Sir Andrew Knyvegston my Wives Brother, and Mrs. Elizabeth Stanhope of Elveton my Cousin-german; Their Marriage prevented by her death.
RIse amorous Virgins, rise and dress
The Bride, her Groome's in readiness:
She wakes, and fain would call you from
Your Beds, but blushes; therefore come.
The early Bridesgroom swears he knowes
You dream't to night of pleasing Showes;
Of Hymen joyning willing hands
To be subjected to his bands;
Of Hymen joyning mutual hearts,
And Hymen joyning other Parts;
Or else you did not sleep at all,
For thinking what was to befall
To the fair Virgin, that to night
(Full of soft trembling, and delight)
Must a pure Maiden go to Bed
And rise without her Maidenhead.
But merry Lasses hast; It may
Be your own turn another day:
Attire her quickly, and while you
Are busied so laugh at her too;
And any of you would laugh to be
So happy, and so nigh as she.
Let her be drest as Juno, when
She tempted Jove, scorn'd mortal men:
[Page 130] As the bright Cyprian Queen, when she
Did first enthral War's Deitie:
As the delicious Memphian Dame
When she great Anthony o'recame,
Not by her Souldiers masteries,
But beams of her al-powerful eyes.
Now she is ready, stay a while,
And let us see her blush and smile:
May all the Genial powers Divine,
Most gentle sweet One, now combine
And shower and power upon you two
All that you can desire, they do.
But lead her out; Now go together
To be of two made one, or either:
You go divided, and alone,
But must return both of you One:
He must be hers not his, and she
Must not be hers, but his must be.
Now they do walk triumphant o're
Those fears that troubled them before;
And all their friends attendants by,
All joyful for this day of joy.
She studies not as she doth go,
How she again may answer No;
But unto every thing say I,
As all the Maides would that are by.
He happy man, soon to be blest,
Unto the Temple maketh hast:
And every minute hates that stands
Not 'twixt their hearts but 'twixt their hands▪
[Page 131] Behold! they are arrived where
They will be placed in one Sphere,
To run through a most glorious Life
Of Love; most blessed Man and Wife.
Th' Amazed Priest when he espies
The radiant beauties of her eyes,
Cannot believ't the Bride to be,
But an Immortal Deitie
Descended from Olympus Top,
Where they all drink in Hebe's Cup;
Or Cytheraea Queen of love,
Or the chast daughter of high Jove,
The new Solemnities to grace,
Or on the youthful Pair to gaze.
But when he's satisfi'd 'tis she,
He looks no more for fear that he
His heart should deep enthral in love,
Past any hope of a remove.
When both are willing and past woing,
No Marriage can be long a doing:
The Parson asks, and they Consent,
Both eager of their own Content;
Though now and then he smiles, and she
Doth blush to think what soon must be.
Now all is done that's to be done
Within the Church, and they are One▪
The Bride-men wish all joy betide
Unto the glad and bashful Bride;
And the Bride-maides do bid the like
To him: which he expects at night.
[...] [...][Page 132] At their Return (with all the prayers)
Of all their Friends for happy years)
A Sumptuous Dinner doth invite
All to't with different Appetite.
Most sit to feed their covetous eyes
With the Brides matchless delicacies:
No other Object can remove
Their looks, and many rose in love,
Some old cold few, and their neer kin
Eat well, and many healths begin
To both their future days of joy,
And the soon getting of a Boy:
Such healths do often make her spred
Her beauteous face with sudden red;
For Virgins often blush to hear
Those things they long for, and love dear.
All Dinner-while a fine-voic'st Boy
Sings many a Song, and many a Toy
Of Love, and of lost Maiden-heads,
And all the joyes of Marriage-Beds.
The Bridegroom happiest man of all
May safely take survey (and fall.
Into no danger) of the sweet
Delicious Bride; and she doth meet
His every look, and every smile,
And blushes for't all dinner-while.
She is asham'd to look therefore;
And loves so she cannot give o're.
On fire and fire again they set
Their hearts, but careless are of it:
[Page 133] They know the night will come, and then
Th'are sure to cool themselves agen.
Dinner being done, the afternoon
Is tedious in regard of soon;
Yet with variety worn away
Of sports belonging to that day.
They dance, and the fair Bride doth move
In conjuring circles of sweet Love:
She treads so evenly as she meant
To make the ground an Instrument;
And sends up sounds so soft and rare,
Angels might dance unto that Aire.
The Bridegroom's blest by every tongue
Of all the merry various thronge,
To be an Owner of that One,
Whose equal they have never known:
And she is counted happy too,
To be belov'd by him, so true
To her, and worthy unto all,
Both blest in equal Nuptial.
He now dares boldly kiss, and oft
Doth give her hard ones; she him soft.
She is his own, and no delight
He wants, but what will come at night.
Though she's asham'd when he doth kiss,
She's not content when he doth miss.
And thus the Afternoon being spent,
Time draws them nearer their content;
They go to Supper, not to eat,
But both to be reveng'd on meat:
[Page 134] Because, till that be done they know
To bed they must not, cannot go.
Supper being finish't (and indeed
Too much time, knowing what's to succeed)
The fearfull Virgin's lead away
Trembling at what she would assay;
And her undresses tell next morn,
What she must rise, yet wish her turn:
And lay her in a bed so sweet,
Jove would come down to't, did he see't;
Where lies a jewel of richer use
Then either India can produce.
The first assault she wisheth done;
And he that it was but begun:
What between smiles and fears, she lies
In the tru'st posture to entice:
And scarce dares see who looks upon her,
Thinking her honour her dishonour.
Her Bed doth seem the bower of bliss,
Where every sweet and pleasure is:
Her eyes two Lights divine, to smile
On all, and comfort them the while:
Her delicate hair (that's onely found
Upon her Cheeks) a net on ground
Of purest Marble, set to take
Not onely Mars, but all that make
On high Olympus top abode;
Even every stern, and gentler God.
Her Lips the twins of Loveliness,
Like roses on a bank, that bless
[Page 135] The eyes of all the lookers on;
From whence a Zephyrus doth come,
So sweet, and calm, as it would soon
Turn every thing into perfume.
The pleasant Garden of Delight,
Her cheeks mantled with red and white,
Seem like the early morning, e're
The Sun comes in our Hemisphere.
The Stately Column of her Neck,
Is onely worthy to protect
Beauties rich Palace, her fair head,
As smooth as Ivory polished.
She was in bed, and we no more
Could see of all her wondrous store.
Now comes the Bridegroom, now so blest,
His onely miserie's not undrest:
He helps, and they do help him streight;
(Few Men do linger on this night.)
Who soon stands in his Shirt, whil'st she
Doth hide her Face, asham'd to see:
But by her side he's quickly laid
And kisses the fair bashful Maid.
When they hop'd all would leave the Room,
The Bridal Posset in doth come:
A Ceremony he exclaimes
Unfit for Hymens youthful flames,
And all the company prayes, (If we
Must eat it) let it our breakfast be:
And many thought the Virgin kind
Was also of her Bridegroom's mind.
[Page] The Company laugh'd, and said 'Twas just
For him to do as others must:
There is no help, he doth obey,
And eats to get them soon away.
The Posset being done, they wish
Goodnight, and leave them to their bliss.
Now he and she are equally
Blest, and possest both of their joy:
And Innocent Love his Part doth play,
And recompences long delay.
Love's is no Coward Fight, although
A Friend meets Friend, and Foe not Foe;
It is a battel sweet, not cruel,
And yet an even and naked duel:
No timorous giving back, yet strife
Perpetual 'twixt man and wife.
As Nilus in one channel bound,
Runs long through Egypts fertile Ground,
And yet at last into seven Currents
Divides his swift and plenteous Torrents,
And separated so runs on
Till it mix with the Ocean:
So, happy Pair, I wish may prove
Your fruitful and auspicious Love;
May you pass through a fortunate
And glorious Life, and know no fate
Sinister whiles you live; and from
Your Loves an hopeful Off-spring come,
That may grow great, and equal good
As you are now, and as their blood:
[Page] To honours highest Zenith climbe,
And fix there till the end of time.
As this, I wish full of delight
To you all nights; and so goodnight.
EPIGRAMS The first Book.
1. To the Right Honourable Philip Earl of Chesterfield, Baron of Shelford, &c. My Uncle.
MY Lord, you are my Patron; and I'le tell
The reason why, then judge if I do well:
None of these Epigrams are worth a rush;
And naughty Wine doth need a gallant bush.
2. To the Reader.
Though (Generous Reader) now and then I write
Verses that justly may appear too light:
Yet on my word (and you may credit me)
In jest I make them for varietie;
And do protest to all censorious men,
They flow not from my heart, but from my Pen.
3. To Chloris.
What a beginning is, you fain would know,
And it therefore unto you thus I show:
You are exceeding naught; be good, and so
Of a beginning you example show.
4. To Mr. William Turner.
School-fellows when we (Friend) together were,
The verses that I writ you lov'd to hear:
Soon as I can I will requite the same;
In the mean while receive this Epigram.
But this is nothing you reply: In troth,
And your applauses then were little worth.
5. To my Cousin germane Mrs. Olive Cotton.
Suspicion, Grief, Disdain: Fame, Beauty, Truth,
Wrongeth, consumes begets: keeps, wounds, indueth
Friendship, life, hatred: deeds, the mind, the best.
You want the first three, and enjoy the rest:
Suspicion hate, shun grief, abhor disdain,
Love fame, keep beauty, and in truth remain.
6. To my worthy Friend Mr. Harbert Aston.
When we at Chenie School together were,
I knew you often to abuse a Boy,
Whom, when he did to you for pity cry,
You beat the more; but good Sir! Do you hear!
Is not this true, when he to you did mone
Did he not then lament unto Ast [...]n?
7. Of my self, when I was motion'd to a Judges Daughter.
I hate to lacquey humours, and detest
Some things as vile, though others think them best.
I must not lose my freedom for a face
I cannot dote on; nor refrain that place
Nor company I like; think Poets poor,
Of Captains too prejudicately, endure
No sight of Wine, judge Playes unlawful be;
A fraudulent shadow men can onely see.
Hypocrisie I do abhor; and woo'd
My Life should be chearful as well as good.
I know I have spies on me, but I slight
Their vigilancie, and dare take my delight.
I may obtain another Mistress, know
No such constraints for her, nor undergo
Censure for things I should do: I prefer
My liberty, and friends much above her:
Not that I do dislike that beauty; so
I should erre foully from a truth I know.
8. Of my staying Supper with my Cousin Mrs. Olive Cotton.
If that the Seas were gentle, there would be
No violent Tides, waters would run as free
When they mix with the Ocean, as at first
When out of their original rocks they burst.
If that the winds were quiet, and would stay
Enclos'd in rocks under their Sovereigns sway;
The frighted Lilly would as firmly grow
As the great'st-bodied Beach, and never bow.
[Page] If that wise Fate had not appointed what
Our lives should aim to, either this or that;
Rebellious man would make his will his rule
To live by, and his Soul his body's fool.
I meant not to have stai'd: but must relate,
Ladies do what they please like Seas, Winds, Fate.
9. An Epitaph on my younger Brother Mr. Thomas Cokaine, who died at Bath about the 18th year of his age, and lyes there Buried.
Passenger stay, and (though thou art
Of Flint) weep e're thou dost depart:
For underneath this stone lies he
Who was Heavens Epitome.
Mourn, if thy Friend, that he did take
His flight so soon, and thee forsake:
Or (if a stranger to his worth)
That he unknown to thee went forth.
What old men are so long about,
He learn't to do e're he went out;
The Art of dying well: And so
May all by him. Now thou mai'st go.
10. To Mr. John Honyman.
On hopefull youth, and let thy happy strain
Redeem the Glory of the Stage again:
Lessen the Loss of Shakespeares death by thy
Successful Pen, and fortunate phantasie.
He did not onely write but act; And so
Thou dost not onely act, but writest too:
[Page 141] Between you there no difference appears
But what may be made up with equal years.
This is my Suffrage, and I scorn my Pen
Should crown the heads of undeserving men.
11. Of Love.
Heroick Caesar that did overcome
So many Nations, triumphed in Rome,
Was by a Lady's eye captived so
That amorously he did both court and woe;
And never quiet was till he enjoy'd
Fair Cleopatra her young brothers bride:
Illustrious Anthony did leave the Care
To be Romes Emperour, and forsook the War,
Left all his Souldiers in a doubtful Fight,
And on the Seas pursued his fled delight.
Since such great mindes by Love enthralled be,
Wherefore, alas! wonders the world if we?
May married couples lawfully enjoy
The Sweetes of Love till they themselves do cloy,
And must the rest their censures undergo
For the same thing which they so often do?
We must not have fruition where we woo'd,
But onely there where we do know 'tis good.
A circumstance doth make a thing unjust:
For th'chastest Love is but a Lawful Lust.
12. To young Maides, translated out the 3. lib. De Arte Amandi.
Venturae memores jam nunc estote senectae:
Sic nullum vobis Tempus abibit iners.
Dum licet, & veros etiam nunc editis annos,
Ludite: sunt anni more fluentis aquae.
Nec quae praeteriit rursum revocabitur unda:
Nec quae praeteriit hora redire potest.
Ʋtendum est aetate; cito pede labitur aetas:
Nec bona tam sequitur quam bona prima fuit.
Think often on old Age, and it's decayes,
And so you will not lose your flourishing dayes.
Whil'st you enjoy fit years, young wenches, play:
For years like speedy waters steal away.
Past streams will never be cal'd back again:
Nor will an hour return, though spent in vain.
Use youth, for it quickly away doth pass,
And time to come's not as the former was.
Thus far the Roman Poet. But alas
That book the cause of his exilement was:
And (if you follow the advise h'ath given)
'Twil work you a worse banishment from Heaven.
13. To Plautia.
Away (fond thing) tempt me no more;
I'le not be won with all thy store.
[Page 143] I can behold thy golden hair,
And for the owner nothing care:
Thy Starry eyes can look upon,
And be mine own when I have done:
Thy cherry ruby lips can kiss,
And for fruition never wish:
Can view the Garden of thy cheeks,
And slight the roses there as leeks:
Can hear thee sing with all thine Art,
Without enthralling of mine heart:
My Liberty thou canst not wrong
With all the Magick of thy tongue:
Thy warm Snow-breasts and I can see,
And neither sigh nor wish for thee:
Behold thy feet, which we do bless
For bearing so much happiness;
Yet they at all should not destroy
My strong preserved Liberty:
Could see thee naked as at first
Our Parents were when both uncur'st;
And with my busie searching eyes
View strictly thy hid rarities;
Yet after such a free survey,
From thee no Lover go away.
For thou art false, and wilt be so,
I else no other fair would wo.
Away therefore, tempt me no more,
I'le not be won with all thy store.
14. Of my Mistress, written at Venice▪
I thought when I was far remov'd,
My Mistress I should not have lov'd;
But having seen another Fair
(As in all Cities Beauties are)
My former passions should forget,
And here a new affection set.
But Venice, though fam'd every where
For matchless Ladies, cannot bear
My thoughts from her whom I unkind
(Though she the cause) have left behind.
Had she not been a cruel One,
But lov'd, I then had stai'd at home:
And be she far more harsher then
Tigers half starv'd, or salvage men;
Abroad she shall not kill me, I
In my own Countrey will go die;
And vow some true friend to engrave
Upon my Stone this Epitaph:
Here lies the Man, whose faith him slew;
Who still had liv'd if been untrue.
15. To Mrs. Mary Coke, an Acrostick
M y busie eyes lately captiv'd me so
A bove my strength, I know not what to do.
R etain my Liberty I could not: all
Y our beauties, Lady, needs must make a thrall.
C ould I but shew my heart, which I desire;
O n it your Picture you might see entire.
K inde therefore be, and let it be your will
E ffectually to save, and not to kill.
16. To my Uncle Sir John Stanhope, an Acrostick
S ir, to be silent unto you, would be
I magin'd ill by you, thought worse by me;
R eason I have to write, and therefore will:
I cannot with my thoughts sit and be still.
O ver and over let me search my heart,
H ere you, and there I find in every part.
N o man was ever to another bound
S o much as I to you; for you have found
(T o make your self more matchless) such new
A s the Invention would extort a praise. (wayes,
N ature was kind to me, and I do bless
H er care, to give me such an happiness.
O nely t'have been your friend had been a fate,
P roud to have made me ever: but my State
E xceedes; I am your Nephew, and you do
Increase my joy, and make me your friend too.
[Page 146] Shall I be silent then? I can as well
Make my self worthy as refrain to tell.
You are my wonder; every word you speak
Vice trembles at, and thinks that she shall break.
No stop hath vertue, but you do remove,
Casting the same away out of your love.
Live long, and glory in your worth: for you
Equal your will, exceed what others do.
17. Of my Mistress.
I love a Lass, whose eyes are Stars Divine;
Whose teeth are pearls set in a ruby line;
Whose mouth's a sacred spell, and doth encharm
Her coldest hearers hearts, and makes them warm;
Whose hairs are curls of God, and can compel
The God of Love himself to love her well.
But be she cruel; would here eyes were not
Such Heavenly Stars, that they might be forgot;
Would her teeth were not pearls, but far from fair,
That I for them at all might nothing care;
Would her mouth were an homely one, and all
Her hair would change the curious hew, or fall:
For if my Mistress force me to despair,
I cannot choose but wish she were not fair.
18. To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton, an Acrostick.
C ousin, I write to you that you may know
H ow much I love you, and how much would
A ll that I can I will do, and have good (show:
R eason to do much more, and if I coo'd.
L ong time I have desired to express
E ach thought I have of my own happiness;
S uch you have made me by your love, and do
C ompel me each day more to honour you.
O 'tis a noble part in you to make
T rue friendship wheresoe're you undertake.
T hus you do live, and living so you may
O mit the care of your departing day;
N o death can raze your memory away.
19. To my very good Friend and Cousin Mr. Roger King.
I love, and so do you; but know you whom?
Faith that same party best that first doth come:
And my love is as constant as her stay;
Why should I love her when she goes away?
If you are of the same mind, we are then
Two constant Lovers though not constant men.
We both are still in love, but fix not; for
We the new Object evermore preferr:
And that affection surely is most wise
That comes not from the heart, but from the eyes.
20. To Thalia.
Weep out thine eyes (Thalia!) why are they
Unmelted yet into an Inland-Sea?
Drown all thy slanderers with them; such as dare
Affirm thee guilty, and thy name not fair:
Or rather scorn their Ignorance that frame
Unworthy Calumnies against thy Name.
Mnemosyne, thou mother of the maides,
And you sweet Sisters that in Ascra shades
(Retired from the troubles of the Earth)
To many a lasting verse give fortunate birth;
Do'st not offend you that the Comick Muse
Should suffer such affronts, and high abuse?
Because that I frequent the thronged Stage,
I'm censur'd by the malice of this Age
Of Levity; but I despise the frowns
Of rigid Cato's, and the hiss of Clowns.
Illiterate Fools may please their gluttonous tast
At dinner with some Epicure-Lord, and wast
Their precious dayes in riot; whil'st I feed
Mine ears with all the wit these Times do breed.
Sing loud, Thalia! Noble Souls will love
To see thy Servants in their Socks to move:
And may their ends be Tragical that hate
The harmless mirth thy Comedies create.
I do profess I'm one that do admire
Each word refin'd in true Poetick fire:
[Page 149] And do approve of natural action, where
Fables seem as true passages they were:
And love our Theatres of worth, where we
May thee in all thy several dresses see.
21. An Epitaph on my dear Cousin German Mrs. Elizabeth Stanhope, who died at Elveston about the 20th year of her age, and lies there buried.
Here lies a Virgin, and (in stead
Of losing of her Maiden-head;
For she should soon have been a wife)
Bereaved of a noble Life:
Stanhopes lament, and Ratcliffes mourn
Before her sad untimely Urne.
But such a sorrow is too slight
For cause of so extreme a weight;
Droop Elveston, and Darbyshire,
No Green, but black perpetual wear:
May April showers to Heavens tears turning,
Make all May-flowers spring up in mourning.
Weep all that ever knew her, or
Rather all that have heard of her.
For trivial Deaths let's mourning wear
Of black, for her of cloth of hair:
Or let us senseless clothes despise,
And show our sadness in our eyes.
Let's melt our hearts though they be stones,
And weep our eyes to Diamonds.
[Page 150] Which (being touch'd by deaths cold hand)
Congeal'd may on her Marble stand.
Any discourse let us detest;
For sighs and grones express us best.
But who is this that we in such
A sorrow must lament so much?
Elizabeth Stanhope; now you know,
Go mourn until you die for wo.
22. An Epitaph on my dear sister the Lady Boteler, who deceased about the 34th year of her Age.
Here lies the Lady Boteler, who ran through
Two States of Life, and both of them so true
And just were known to all that knew her, that
Her, her survivers all may imitate.
The Virgin, and the matrimonial life
She blest with her example: And so rife
Her memory doth flourish, that it can
Not die, while there on earth lives one good man.
Cokaine her own name was: Elveston gave
Her Life, Tutburie death, Ashbourn a Grave.
33. To Lesbia.
I thank you (Lesbia) for your lips, and smiles,
Your pretty courtship, and your amorous Wiles▪
Her breath was sweet as Venus bower of bliss,
Her joyes uncounterfeit, and not remiss;
Her skin was smooth as calmest summers day,
And warm as are the temperate Noons in May:
[Page 151] Her mind was willing, and her body laid
In th' truest Garbe to tempt who durst invade.
There wanted nothing to complete our joyes,
Had not the house been liable to spies;
For I do value more a Ladies fame,
Then satisfaction of my highest flame.
Thus much in jest, now to speak truth is time;
I'm glad we parted, and escap'd the Crime.
24. An Epitaph on a great sleeper.
Here lies a great Sleeper, as every body knows,
Whose Soul would not care if his body ne're rose.
The business of life he hated, and chose
To die for his ease for his better repose;
And 'tis believ'd when the last trump doth wake him,
Had the Devil a bed, he would pray him to take him.
25. An Epitaph on a great Wencher.
Here lies a great Wencher, and dead I dare swear,
For were he alive an whore would be here.
26. To my honoured Friend Mr. Marmaduke Wyvel.
Sir, I have ever honour'd you, and do
Owe all fair service I can pay to you:
But (Friend) I owe you more then this, yet shall
(With all the speed that may be) absolve all.
27. An Epitaph on Mrs. M. H.
Here lies a body whose soul went hence
Fuller of Glory then Innocence:
[Page 152] What her life wanted to make high
Her worth, she wrought when she did die:
And now when all her fight is done,
Her Foes must say that she hath won.
Let her faults perish with her breath,
And none think of her life, but death.
28. To Mr. Nathaniel Hazard and his Wife, on their Marriage.
Blest Pair Goodnight! The Prologue now is done:
Your wooing's past, and both of you are won.
The sweets of Love remain, the Play's behinde,
To yield delight to a long longing minde.
May all fair fortune crown your happy Lives,
You out-love husbands, and she out-love wives.
May every night and day, and day and night;
And hour and minute be to you delight.
May all my wishes prosper, and may you
Never repent y'are one, and wish you two:
And (for your Epilogue) when you return
To earth, may all that know you for you mourn.
29. To Corinna.
Why (excellent Corinna) do you throw
Your gold away for durt to lay on snow?
For so, compar'd unto your whiter skin,
The Linen is you veil your body in:
For like a Diamond taken from a rock
You would appear unclouded of your smock.
30. Of Lycoris.
Beauty and Honour are great names; and they
Here and hereafter differ many a way.
Beauty half Age destroyes; and none can be
Enamour'd on the fair'st Anatome.
Immaculate Honour easily disperses
All Cloudes that hover o're Heroes Heirses.
Beauty triumpheth over humane kind,
And mighty Love enthrones in every mind.
Honour disdains base Actions, and would have
A noble life to be our Epitaph.
The fair Lycoris doth desire a long
And flourishing Spring of beauty, ever young;
Her many years to wear away in mirth,
And Heavens epitome to have on earth:
Her dayes in musick, and in feasts; and nights
(Between her lovers Armes) in soft delights;
But with so cunning Carriage to enjoy
This momentary false felicity,
As to deceive the curious world, that for't
She every where may have a fair report:
And that (when she enters the Grave's descent)
Honour may fix upon her Monument.
31. Of Mary a Chambermaid.
Mary a Chambermaid, a brown-eyde Lass
Complain'd that she all day in labour was;
[Page 154] I laugh'd at her simplicity, and said,
Surely at Night then you'l be brought to bed.
32. Of Katherine, a Kitchen-wench.
Katherine a Kitchen-wench merrily said
That lame men were the best to please a maid:
I ask'd her why? She wittily repli'd,
They that have Legs defective love to ride.
33. Of the Infamie of his Mistress.
Tibull. Lib. 4.
Rumor ait crebro nostram peccare puellam:
Nunc ego me surdis auribus esse velim.
Crimina non hae [...] sunt nostro sine ficta dolore:
Quid miserum torques? Rumor acerbe tace.
Of falshood Fame my Mistress doth accuse:
Would I were deaf, and could not hear the newes.
This is not forged without my unease:
Why dost thou vex me? cruel Rumour, peace.
34. To Apollo, Ausonius Gallus▪
Pone arcum Paean, celeresque reconde sagittas:
Non te virgo fugit, sed tua tela timet.
Phoebus thy Bow and Arrows hide; for she
Thy weapons feats, but doth not fly from thee.
35. To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton.
Pardon my boldness (Cousin) that defames
Your name among my trivial Epigrams:
[Page 155] Yet I before have sometimes us'd you thus;
For in my Eclogues you are Tityrus▪
36. Of Chaucer.
Our good old Chaucer some despise: and why?
Because say they he writeth barbarously.
Blame him not (Ignorants) but your selves, that do
Not at these years your native language know.
37. Of Edmond Spencer.
Our Spencer was a Prodigie of wit,
Who hath the Fairy Queen so stately writ:
Yield Grecian Poets to his Nobler Style;
And ancient Rome submit unto our I'le.
You modern wits of all the four-fold earth (worth)
(Whom Princes have made Laureates for your
Give our great Spencer place, who hath out-song
Phoebus himself with all his Learned Throng.
38. To my Noble Cousin Colonel Ralph Sneyde.
When the last spring I came to Keel, and found
Old Hospitality on English Ground,
I wonder'd: and (Great Sydney) did prefer
My Sneyde superiour to thy Kalander.
All things are neat, and Jovial Plenty keepes
Continual Festivals by years, not weekes:
He good decai'd House-keeping doth revive,
And doth preserve our English Fame alive.
So liv'd our worthy Ancestours, and so
May you till you the oldest Man may grow
[Page 156] Within the Land; and ripe for heaven go hence,
Bemon'd as far as known. Poets th'expence
Of time and paper both may save that day,
The Poor your lasting'st epitaph will say.
39. Of Farmo.
Farmo one afternoon was drunk extreamly,
Wherein he curs'd, and swore, & ly'd, not meanly.
One ask'd him whence (when he had's wits again)
So many vices did proceed, so vain?
Marry (quoth he) as I do truly think,
They came not from my heart, but from my drink▪
40. Of Ovids Banishment.
The secret cause of Ovids sad mischance
Was seeing or being seen in dalliance.
They that dare act that vice should choose their time,
And not add scandal also to the crime.
41. To Mr. Thomas Bancroft.
Sir, in your Epigrams you did me grace
T'allow me 'mong your many Friends a Place:
T'express my gratitude (if Time will be
After my death so courteous to me,
As to vouchsafe some few years to my name)
Freely enjoy with me my utmost Fame.
42. To the Lady Elizabeth Darcy, my Cousin German.
Madam, the greatest Ladies of past Times
Kind Influences upon Poets rhimes
Have from their gracious eyes bestow'd, and made
Them Heaven with their Inventions to invade▪
As the Pelignan Poet honour'd by
The supreme Princess of sweet Italy,
Who singing her (under Corinna's Name)
Fill'd the whole Roman Empire with her Fame;
Which having spread from his immortal verse,
Is now renown'd through all the Universe.
And (Madam) you will do your self no wrong
T'encourage a good Poet in his Song;
And to your mercy you no Injury do,
If you forgive this toy I've sent to you.
43. To my worthy Friend Colonel Edward Stamford.
Great-soul'd Achilles was a noble Friend;
Hector for valour every where renown'd;
Thousands the bounteous Caesar did commend;
Antonius the best natur'd man was found.
What need I search for more in Rome or Greece?
You (in you) have the vertues of all these.
44. To my Cousin German Mrs. Cordelia Harryes.
When as in Cornwall at Powlmaggon, I
Enjoy'd that sweet retired Companie.
[Page 158] Methought that house afforded all the bliss
Poets can feign there in Elysium is.
My Lord and Lady (blest in wedlock) led
Their dayes in as much quiet as in bed
They spent their Nights; fit couple t'entertain
Hermes and Jove, walk't they on earth again:
And their House to be made a Temple, where
Concor'd and peace triumphed all the year.
But old Philemon and his reverened wife
Led a most poor though a contented Life.
My Lord Mohun liv'd in a plenteous wise,
Able to feast the wandring Deities.
You and your Sisters Graces seem'd to grace
Your Parents firm Affection, and the Place.
So live the blest, and best: and so may I,
While you a more transcendent Life enjoy.
45. To Lydia.
You boast that you are beautiful, and wear
A several rich Gown every week i'th' year;
That every day new Servants you do win:
But yet no vertue have to glory in.
One of less beauty and less bravery, and
Servantless, sooner should my heart command.
Beauty will fade, and ruines leave behind;
Give me the lasting beauty of the mind.
Servants and clothes are the Enammel oft
Of bodies too luxurious and soft.
Leave vaunting (Lydia) therefore till you can
Speak one true vertue, and I'le hear you then.
46. Of a Room in an Ale-house that we call the Apollo.
This Room with Mirth and jests we hallow
Unto the Deity of Apollo▪
And (although here we do want Wine
To consecrate before his Shrine,
To absent Friends) we do prevail
In plenteous Pots of mighty Ale:
Such as it seemes great Dis did love,
Who Ceres daughter from above
Did steal; such drink as will constrain
Ceas'd Oracles to speak again;
And noble Spirits will infuse
Into the poor'st and humblest Muse:
And Men in all the humours dress
Of Ovids Metamorphosis.
An Ant by drinking this is grown
To be a lusty Mirmydon:
The rustick Numa it will bring
From Plow, and make him Rome's great King:
Desire in coldest bosomes move,
Quickning Pygmalion's marble Love:
Against Troy's Conquerours combine,
And turn the victours into Swine.
Then welcome all that hate the Folly
Of Solitary Melancholy,
Love mirth and jests, and mean to hallow
This Room unto the great Apollo.
47. Of Delia.
Talking with Delia I did perceive
A natural Perfume in her fragrant breath;
And could not choose but gather many a kiss
From her sweet lips, Portcullisies of bliss.
Like a Chamelion I could live, and spare
All other things to feed upon that air.
48. Ca. Germanici Augusti Epigramma de Puero Thracensi.
Thrax puer astricto glacie cum luderet Hebro,
Frigore concretas pondere rupit aquas:
Dumque unae partes rapido traherentur ab amne,
Praesecuit tenerum lubrica tecta caput,
Orba quod inventum mater dum conderet urna,
Hoc peperi flammis, caetera dixit aquis.
A Thracian Boy on frozen Hebrus plai'd,
Till with his weight a breach i'th Ice he made,
Which from his body cut his tender head,
The rest being by the Waters swallowed.
His Mother sigh'd (bestowing 't in an Urne)
That I brought forth for waters, this to burn.
49. Of Cajus Germanicus Augustus.
Germanicus was Drusus Son, o'th high
And the illustrious Claudian Family;
[Page 161] An eminent Poet; to whom Ovid sent
His Roman Kalander from Banishment.
His Cousin Agrippina was his Wife,
By whom he many children had. His life
(At thirty four years age in Antioch)
Tiberius (by poyson) from him took.
Of all his many Poems nothing came
Unto our Times, but that one Epigram.
50. To my very good Friend Mr. Francis Lenton.
Sir, many years ago when you and I
Frequently kept together company
With Master Lightwood, and my Noble Brother
Sir Andrew Knyveton, and some few such other;
Tom Lightwood made each following Anagram
(Which I illustrated) upon your name,
While (at the Fleece in Covent Garden) we
Drank roundly Sack in Rosen Cans, and free.
There all was done in jest, and so was took:
Pray laugh at them again now in this book.
51. Francis Lenton Poet.
Anagram.
Fil-pot Rosen Canne.
Filpot! What Pot? A Rosen Canne:
Who shall? Frank Lenton shall, that man,
[Page 162] But must he then turn Tapster? No,
But fill for him he drinks unto.
He (like a small Wit) scorns to put
My Friends health in a little Cup,
But (like a Generous valiant man)
His smal'st health drinks in a whole Can:
But Poets Drink is surely Wine;
No Ale-house trash makes men Divine.
Why then Filpot, and Rosen Can,
Except he be a Malt-drink-man?
He's nothing less; Glasses being small,
In Cans he doth drink Sack to all.
His Anagram is true, and so
His sack doth him true Poet show:
He therefore is a Gallant man,
And owneth Filpot Rosen Can.
52. Francis Lenton. Anagram. Nann Colts fire.
Nann Colts Fire, That is Love: For Love's a Flame;
But sure Nann Colt then is some curious Dame.
It may be not: For he may carry perhaps
Nann Colts fire in his Breeches, have her claps.
Then Nann Colt is unsound, and likely he,
Why should he fresher then his Mistress be?
Nann Colts fire once did burn his heart: but lo!
It now hath setled in a place below.
I thought that Poets Wits should be of fire,
And not their bodies; that flames did aspire.
[...] burnt Frank? Be not dejected; so
[...] of Wine hath been you know,
[Page 163] And yet the better for't; and so mai'st thou
By leaving her upon a solemn vow.
But thou may'st be her fire another way,
The Man that doth her heart and passions sway:
A goodly fortune, to express desire,
To have thy brains distil'd by Nann Colts fire!
53. To the World, of Nan Colt.
If there be Lady that this Name doth own,
Or (of inferiour condition)
A Woman in the world; world! witness bear
We did not mean (by this) to injure her:
We knew none such, he found it in his name,
And (thus much said) I hope w'are free from blame.
54. To Mr. Francis Lenton, refusing wine.
Dost thou endeavour (Franke) to leave thy drink
That made thee such high raptures write & think?
Or art a weary of the Muses? for
What els could make thee Phoebus Sack abhor?
It is our grief, our mourning, and thy shame,
That the Queenes Poet, and a man of name,
Should drive Apollo from his breast with a
Fine glass of six shillings, or a dish of Whey.
Redress our sorrows, and return again
To wine, and make thy head like Charles his wain.
55. Francis Lenton. Anagram. Not Nel; Cis, Fran.
Not Nel, for she is fair and sound and sweet;
But Cis, for she's as common as a street.
[Page 164] Why should a Poet that can drink base drink,
After a Lady that's deserving think?
Or why should you, because your Characters
Are good, expect a Mistress like the Stars?
Because your Anagrams are rich to you,
Would you a Mistress rich in beauty too?
Not Nel; Cis (Fran) is thine, and use her well,
That's make her tympanous belly rightly swell.
Blame not thy fortune but thine eyes; or sure
Some dark nights sport behind, or 'gainst a dore.
What though she be decai'd like wither'd rose?
She is no ancienter then her best clothes.
You'l say this Anagram is naught: but shew
Your reason, for we all do know it true.
However 'tis unfortunate, you'l say:
For Poets Loves should be as bright as day.
It is your name (good Fran) doth tell she's foul,
And makes the world acquainted with her soul.
But you will ask, why may not Cis be fair,
And Nel the homely One beneath compare?
This will not help you Fran: for Nel is known
Famous for beauty, witness Sparta Town:
And Cis is yet, and hath been ever since,
A common name for every Kitchen-wench.
You must be patient therefore, and may thank
Your name for this fine beast; Not▪Nel, Cis (Frank.)
56. To my very good Friend M. Thomas Lightwood.
Sir, that I do expose these trifles to
The world, which we (in jest) writ long ago,
[Page 165] Pray pardon me: for (I am sure) I do
A greater wrong unto my selfe then you.
After so many troubles, they remain
Once more to make us laugh at them again.
57. To my noble Cousin Mr. William Milward.
When I have wanted company sometimes,
I've made my self merry with writing rhimes;
And I do hope that reading them you will
Laugh too, and pardon what you finde too ill:
For worth your approbation here is nought;
My whole book being a continual fault.
58. To my worthy Friends the two Colonel William Bales.
So lov'd the two Alcides as you two:
So did Alcides and Paeantius do.
In the same steps that Noblest friends have mov'd,
And with as firm a love as they have lov'd,
You hand in hand have walk'd, and work'd as high
And glorious Actions of Amity,
Striving each others affection to out-go:
Yet (from your Spheres of Honour) look'd below
On me, and me into your friendship took;
Who here have link'd you (with me) in my book:
And that fair Fortune that your hearts inclines,
Grant us a life immortal in my lines.
59. To my dear Cousin Mr. Robert Milwand.
Whil'st you retir'd at Alsop in the Dale,
With Poets and Philosophers converse;
And o're Voluminous Law-books do prevail,
And those hours you from study steal, desperse
Into your Oeconomical Affairs,
You mixe much pleasure with some easie cares.
60. To my noble Friend, Mr. Marmaduke Wivel.
After so many in the English tongue,
Whose happy Muses, Epigrams have sung,
I have too boldly done, and writ in vain
To get repute by following that strain.
When I bethink me that great Johnson (he
Who all the ancient wit of Italy
And learned Greece (by his industrious Pen)
Transplanted hath for his own Countreymen,
And made our English tongue so swell, that now
We scarce an equal unto it allow)
Writ Epigrams, I tremble, and (instead
Of praise) beseech a pardon when I'm read.
61. To my honoured kinsman Mr. Henry Kendal the younger.
Your Grand-Mother was hospitable, did
Invite me often to her house, and bid
Me hearty welcome; And I hope to prove
The like effects hereafter of your love.
[Page 167] Poets of old were Prophets held; and I
For once will venture on a Prophesy:
You shall at Smithsby flourish, gain the Hearts
Of all your Countrey by your worthy Parts.
62. To Maides.
Soft Virgins, you whose tender hearts are prone
To yield unto your own destruction,
Resist all vicious flames, and you will find
The Glories of an undefiled mind;
Preserve your bodies as a Magazin
That doth contain the richest Treasure in;
For Diamonds, Pearls, and Stones of highest price
Heaven lov'd virginity mainly out-vies:
Patavine Chastity enjoying more
Content, then Acts of a
A prime street in Old Rome.
Suburran Whore.'Tis mean to yield submission unto Sense,
When virtue hopes so great a Recompence.
63. To the truly Noble Sir Arthur Gorges.
Those worthy Romans that scorn'd humble things,
Created, and obliged after-Kings,
Amidst their thoughts of highest honour, ne're
Conceiv'd Imaginations 'bove your sphere.
The Babylonian Euphrates may
For ever run, and Tybris never stay;
The plenteous Rhine continually speed on,
And Danubie, each to it's Ocean,
[Page 168] And not out-go your fair and high repute,
Which doth amaze the world, and strikes me mute.
94. To Sir Andrew Knyveton my wives brother.
Wonder not why among so many of
My Epigrams, I do not oftner scoff,
And taunt of men, observing when they halt,
And tax them smartly after for their fault.
I know that Epigrams should either be
Satyres reduc'd to an Epitome;
Or els in choicest Language should invite
(Being what you please) the Readers with delight.
Troth! I in scoffes but little do prevail,
Which is the cause that I no oftner rail:
And have for Eloquence but what you see;
And therefore all my friends must pardon me.
65. To my Cousins Germans Mr. Cromwell, Mr. Byron, Mr. Ratcliff, and M. Alexander Stanhope.
The worlds four Parts, and all the various Seas
And Rivers that embrace them thousand wayes,
Perfect the Globe terrestrial, set it fix't
Equal the circumvolving Heaven betwixt:
So you four (joyning in a Sympathie
Of an unmach'd, fraternal Amitie,
Sought to for noble Soules, by all that can
Under and Honour, or a Generous man)
Are courted on all sides, and truly do
Love them reciprocally that love you;
[Page 169] So that your friends and you do justly stand
The Centre of fair Friendship in the Land.
66. To my Cousin Mr. Charles Cotton the younger.
In how few years have you rais'd up an high
Column of Learning by your Industry,
More glorious then those Pyramids, that Old
Canopus view'd, or Cair doth yet behold!
Your noble Father (that for able Parts
Hath won an high Opinion in all hearts)
May like the elder Scaliger look down
With admiration on his worthy Son.
Proceed fair plant of Ex'lencies and grow
So high, to shadow all that are below.
67. To my honest Kinsman Sir John Reppington.
I pray you (Sir) impale your Woods, that we
In them the hunting of the Buck may see:
By which good deed you will be sure to please grounds;
The Naiades, and Hamadryades;
Honouring the woods and brooks that grace those
And raise a stately Eccho by your Houndes,
T'invite Diana to your Groves; that she
A partner in your rural sports may be:
Or peirce the beauteous Goddess Venus ear,
And bring her down from her celestial sphere
To be spectatress of your game; brought thence
To guard some young Adonis from Offence.
By making you a park all this is done,
A pleasant Grace unto your Amington.
68. To my Brother in Law Colonel Will. Nevil.
The old luxurious Romans vaunts did make
Of gustful Oysters took in Lucrine Lake:
Your Essex better hath, and such perchance
As tempted Caesar first to pass from France.
How did those ancient Worthies captive all
The humbled world unto their Capitol!
Yet from it's highest Towers could not survey
So rich a Countrey as (from Holt) you may.
The noble Brutus, vertuous Portia,
Luckless Antonius, chast Octavia,
Soul-fix'd Paulina to her murther'd Lord
(The learned Seneca) such worthes afford
As have astonish'd Ages; yet your best
Of wives may justly with them all contest.
You then enjoying a full Fortune, and
The delicacies may eat of Sea and land;
Your dayes spend at a house of so fair site,
And (with a so deserving wife) each night:
Consider (since that you possess all this)
If y'are not happy, who the Devil is?
69. An Epitaph on a Penitent Bawde.
Here lies a good woman (to speak but the truth)
Who liv'd by her Tail all the days of her youth:
And when she was old, and none could endure her,
Stuck still to the Flesh, and became a Procurer:
[Page 171] Yet was at her death so full of Remorses,
That she cri'd a peccavi for all her lewd courses.
70. An Epitaph on an old Bawde.
Here lies an old Bawde whom the grave should have gotten
Fourty years since, for then she was rotten:
Now here she doth lie for all People to piss on,
(For fear of Doomes-day) in a stinking Condition.
But enough of this business; for well we may think
The more we stir in it the more it will stink.
71. To my Cousin Mr. William Milward.
Whil'st you at Chilcote live, and I at Pooley,
Let's every Week meet one another duly;
Talk of our long Acquaintance, and the strange
Things that have hapned since this mighty change:
And drink a Glass of honest Countrey-Ale
To all our absent Friends at every Tale.
72. Don Quixot. Quarta parte, Cap. 33.
Es de vidrio la Muger,
Pero no se ha de provar,
Si se puede, O no quebrar;
Porque to do podria ser.
Y es mas facil el quebrar se,
Y no es cordura ponerse
[Page 172] A peligro de romperse
Lo que no puede soldar se.
Yen esto opinion esten
Tados, yen r'azon la fundo,
Que si ay Danaes en el mundo.
Ay pluvias de Oro tambien.
Englished. Of Women.
A Woman is of Glass, or weaker,
And should not be put to the proof;
Or if she be, not as to break her;
Which is a thing facile enough.
Glass is crack'd with an easie stroke:
And it no wisdom is to put
That within danger to be broke,
Which never can be solder'd up.
All men of an Opinion are,
And it upon this reason ground,
That if there any Danaes were,
Gold Showers also would be found.
73. Of a Servant-Maid.
A servant maid in Winter washing clothes
Upon the banks where pleasant Arnus flowes,
[Page 173] A passenger espi'd her, and did say
I wish (sweet heart) you had a warmer day.
She look'd upon him in a pretty snuff,
And then repli'd; Sir, here I've fire enough,
Laying her hands you may guess where. He smil'd
To hear her answer come so quick, and wild:
And (pulling out his weapon) said (fair Wench)
Light me this Candle then e're I go hence.
74. The Boyes Opinions.
A few untoward Boyes hapning together,
Started a Question t'be resolved whether;
And from the youngest put it to the oldest,
What part about a Woman was the coldest.
The first a knee did say (in his Opinion)
Was the cold'st place of any female Minion.
The next recovering from some thought he stuck at,
Said he conceiv'd it needs must be her buttock,
By feeling cold (but he was but a Noddy)
When she takes up her clothes to ease her body.
The third then spake (with very earnest urging)
The breasts he did imagine of a virgin.
Maid, or no maid, the fourth cri'd, 'tis no matter,
The cold'st place sure lies between wind & water.
After the Question thus being vext and hammer'd,
Oh! sigh'd a Lover (lately grown enamour'd)
(Who ever speaks the truth may be the boldest)
Of a coy Ladies parts her heart's the coldest.
I (quoth the sixth) from all of you do vary,
And am of an Opinion quite contrary:
[Page 174] For with a Woman I lay late, and found her (her [...])
Warm every where to th' purpose (Pox confound
They all laugh'd, saying, he might thank his riot,
And they gues'd him a Clap by his strict diet.
My Hostess heard them, (grunting on her Palet)
And swore, an old Woman as any Sallet
Was cold & wholesome: And (to clear this riddle)
She to him call'd; Son! you may come and fiddle:
But he seem'd bashful, and refus'd the Grannum;
Swearing, what Lust is in these beasts to dam u'm?
75. Of a Sawyer.
One cleaving Billets for a Courtezan,
(Viewing her beauty) was a wounded man:
He sigh'd, and mus'd, and did his work neglect;
So that she came and him for Loytering check't.
He standing more amaz'd; she said, speak (friend)
What dost thou aile? Why dost not make an end?
Recovering from's astonishment, he thought
That faint hearts never fair Atchievement wrought:
And (Mistress) said, A great desire I have
To lie with you: She answered him, peace (knave)
I scorn so base a Clown. For all this he
Pli'd her, and at the last they both agree:
A Crown of Gold he was to give her: so
She pluckt her Clothes her favour to bestow,
And with her white hand clapt her whiter Thigh,
Saying's this flesh fit for a Sawyer? Fye!
He hearing this look't on his Gold again,
And said, is'e fit to give this to a Quean?
[Page 175] And so the Goodman chanced to recover,
(Saving his mony) and went home no Lover.
76. Of a Gentleman of Venice, and his Mistress.
A Gentleman of Venice (as the most
Of them themselves do put unto that cost)
Kept a fair Mistress, and did every day
(In solace) weare with her some hours away.
Coming one Afternoon (with an Intent
To spend some time in amorous blandishment)
He found her undispos'd, and newly laid
Groning, and sick, and cover'd on her Bed.
He (seeing this) sigh'd sadly (Love) I fear,
I'm now but troublesome in staying here;
An other time I'le visit you. Pray stay,
Quoth she: Introth you shall not go away;
Come sit down by me: Heark you (Servant) I
Am ner'e so sick, but on my back can ly.
77. To my especial Friend Mr. Henry Thimbleby.
Platonick Love must needs a Friendship be,
Or els Platonick Love's a Gullery:
Love is (as Johnson in's New▪Inne hath prov'd)
Desire of union with the belov'd:
And cannot onely be a gazing at;
But a strong Appetite t'incorporate.
Why do you praise a Ladies Beauties so,
And (in a silence) let her vertues go?
[Page 176] Leave trifling; for we gather (by your suit)
Your marriage shortly will your words confute.
78. The Florentine Dutchess, and her Woman Dwarfe.
A great Duchess of Florence some years since
Had a She-Dwarfe of quick Intelligence,
And a surpassing beauty; whom (above
Her other Servants) she did highly love.
Nanna, I bear thee such good will (she said)
That I've a great desire to have thee wed
One of thy Size, but handsome as might be;
Because I Children fain would have of thee.
Madam (she answer'd I) have sometimes been
Within your Cellar, and your vessels seen;
And (which did me with a strange pleasure strike)
The great and least had bunge-holes all alike.
79. To my honoured Friend Sir William Persal.
Sir, you are every where belov'd, and should
I say admir'd, my words a truth woo'd hold.
You master all the Arts, and can discourse
Of any science from the very Source
To the full growth of it: From Pole to Pole
Nature hath made you Doctor of her whole.
What others have grown old about and gray,
You have acquir'd by a more gentile way:
[Page 177] For what they an Herculean Labour make,
To you is but a soft Symposiack.
Your quick, all-apprehending brain is such,
It dictates wonders; which are prov'd as much.
Let not this (Sir) seem flattery, and offend:
I write but what I think; And so I end.
80. A Design of an Epick Poem.
I sing the valiant deeds and brave exploits
Of Brutus, equal to the Worthies Nine:
And the adventures strange of wandring Knights
Famous in ours, and Countries transmarine;
From Italy their high auspicious flights,
Directed hither by the fates Divine:
And how fair Ladies (in their bloomy years)
Became enamour'd on those Cavaliers.
A work Heroick, worthy to be writ
In stately numbers equal to their deeds;
And by no humble, and no vulgar wit
By one that onely knows but oaten reeds;
But by an able Poet that can fit
Each Lover, and each Souldier in their weeds,
That knows to draw a Line so firmly wrought,
As neither Time nor War can bring to nought▪
But seeing none this Task to undertake,
And fearing these great Actions might die;
Neglected cast all into Lethe Lake,
Because that some malicious enemy
[Page 178] Hath won upon this stupid Isle to make
It think them Fictions rais'd by poetry:
I (out of zeal unto so great a truth)
Present this poem to our English youth.
81. To my vertuous fair Cousin the Lady Trentham.
Madam, I dare not blame this Age, nor call
Any vice in it Epidemical:
You are immaculate, and of so high
A vertue, that you awe Impiety.
Your Heart is a pure Heaven, where nothing is
Admitted that can be conceiv'd amiss.
The Poets Flight of vertues I contemn,
And patient [...]low Astrea's after them:
You are their Sphere of happiness, and do
Entertain all the Goddesses in you.
82. To the Same.
You bear that holy Martyrs name that did
Die for her chastity, Saint Winnifrid,
An honour here you do her; and when you
Shall meet in Heaven, she will return your due:
You there will the precedent Saint appear,
And she your name eternally then bear.
83. To my old Friend Mr. Rob. Grosvenor.
Sir, we have heard of Slanders of that height,
As if to Paradise they directed right:
[Page 179] When (out, alas!) it is a foul offence
Any way to traduce an Innocence.
Those Crimes that are by some on others thrown
Guiltlesly, they do make those faults their own:
And the just Judge their punishment will give
Due to the sins that they have slander'd with.
Besides▪ his Soul he within vengeance bounds,
That with a truth a reputation wounds:
Your Friend and mine so much abus'd doth fall
Under the First, and not the last at all.
To talk of things commonly known and true,
No mulct from Heaven will unto us accrue.
But sure he of a blest Condition is
That hates of any one to speak amiss:
That hath a merciful and candid thought,
And thinks all good, rather then any naught.
Heaven by a spotless life is won, and by
The patient bearing of an Infamy.
84. To my honest Cousins Mr. Robert Milward, and Mr. Roger King.
You best of Friends, and my best Friends, that me
Have many years grace'd with your Amity;
My lines you honour with your worthy Names,
(A lasting Glory to my Epigrams:)
As Princes Stamps upon base metals do
Make them prove currant, and of value too.
85. To Sir Francis Boteler, my brother in law, from Ashbourn.
How Christmas steals upon us, as in fear
To be oppos'd by the bold Presbyter!
And how you part from us against this Time,
As if you thought to meet it here a Crime!
But oh inevitable business▪ when
Old Christmas we meant to have trick'd agen,
In's long neglected usual Ornaments,
You have prevented it by going hence:
So your Departure we accuse to be
Guilty (by chance) of an Impietie;
Tom Hurt, Will Taylour, and my self shall mourn,
Till you recover our joy by your return.
86. To the right Honourable Henry Lord Hastings Baron of Loughborough.
My Lord, when in my youth I (for some while)
Did leave the pleasures of our native Isle,
And travel'd France and Italy, I spent
(Methought) my Time in a most high content;
And was so far from longing to return,
That I when I was sent for home did mourn.
And doubtless you are pleas'd, who now enjoy
A Calme after a storme of jeopardy.
Homer his Iliads might have writ of you;
And (as our fear prompts) his Odysses too.
[Page 181] But we will hope the best, and that you may
(As er'st Ulysses to his Ithaca)
Return to England (all those tumults past)
And finde it crown'd with happy dayes at last;
Be reconcil'd to every own, and know
(Among so many Friends) no single foe.
87. To my Noble Cousin Mr. Henry Hastings of Branston.
Sir, since our first acquaintance, ever through
Our Friendship with the Noble Loughborough,
What tumults have we seen, and dangers past,
Such as in graves have many thousands cast!
And yet we live (thanks to the Powers Divine)
And love, I thank your Friendship gracing mine.
I needes must say such troubles disagree
Both with my Genius as well as me.
Though Poets often sing of Wars, and with
A mighty verse an Eccho seem to give
To the shrill Trumpet, or the loudest Gun
That thunder rores, and spreads destruction;
Yet in a sweet retreat from care and noise,
They draw those lines that make those Sympathies;
And though I am no Poet, I confess
I am enamour'd much of Quietness.
88. To the right honourable Charles Lord Cokaine, Viscount Cullen.
My Lord, you have an honest Heart, and known
To be of a most sweet Condition;
A Grace unto our Family and Name,
And every where of a most candid Fame:
This is a truth; but lest you should suppose
(If I proceed) I flatter'd, here I close.
89. An Epitaph on my worthy Cousin German Colonel Michael Stanhope slain at Willoughbie-Fight, and lyes buried in the Church there.
Here Michael Stanhope lies, who fought and dy'd,
When prosp'rous fortune left the Regal side:
He of a dauntless minde by all was known,
And of a Noble disposition:
Yet his conditions, and his valiant Heart
Could not prevail with Death to stay his Dart;
For here he lies, and doth (by's Fall) express,
Great Courages do often want Success.
90. An Epitaph on my dear Cousin German Mrs. Olive Cotton.
Passenger stay, and notice take of her
Whom this Sepulchral marble doth inter:
For Sir John Stanhope's Daughter, and his Heir
By his first wife, a Berisfor'd lies here.
[Page 183] Her Husband of a Noble house was▪ one
Every where for his worthes belov'd, and known.
One onely Son she left; whom we presage
A grace t'his family, and to our age.
She was too good to live, and young to die,
Yet stay'd not to dispute with destinie;
But (soon as she receiv'd the summons given)
Sent her fair Soul to wait on God in Heaven.
Here, what was mortal of her turns to dust,
To rise a Glorious Body with the just.
Now thou may'st go: But take along with thee
(To guide thy Life and Death) her Memory.
91. To my Cousin German Mr. John Stanhope of Elveston.
When in an Epigram I did salute
Your other brothers, and of you was mute,
The reason was because I did not know
Whether that then you were alive or no.
Your safety I congratulate, and wish
You a long Life of as long happiness.
This Tribute of my Love to you I give,
Under the Honour of your Name to live.
92. Of Caesar and Cleopatra.
Great Caesars vaunt is known to all, who said,
That he did come, look't on, and conquered:
And saw the Queen, he then was overcome:
But (to prove rather he was not beguil'd)
Her he o'recame; for he got her with childe.
93. An Epitaph on my most honour'd Kinsman Colonel Ralph Sneyd, who dy'd in the Isle of Man about the 40th year of his Age.
Here lyes a body that gave Lodging to
A Soul as noble as the world did know;
It was well-organ'd, handsome, manly, and
Of equal structure to the best o'th Land:
Yet was unworthy of the Soul was given,
And therefore dy'd cause that fled back to Heaven.
Here Colonel Ralph Sneyd doth lie; In brief
The joy of mankind living, now the grief.
94. Of Slander.
To speak too well of thousands safer is
Then of one single Person once amiss;
Happy is he therefore whose wary tongue
Wisely refrains to do another wrong.
95. To Elveston a Town in Darbyshire.
Dear Elveston, that art a grace
Unto the Shire where I was born;
And Elveston, that art the Place
Where first I did salute the Morn;
The noble Stanhopes are thy praise,
Whom thou afford'st a birth, and Urne:
[Page 185] And may they flourish there always
Till th'world to Chaos doth return.
96. Of Venice, Translated out of Sannazarius.
Viderat Adriacis Venctam Neptunus in undis
Stare urbem, & toti ponere jura mari:
Nunc mihi Tarpejas quantum vis, Jupiter, arces
Ob [...]ice, & illa tui maenia Martis, ait
Si pelago Tibrim praefers, urbem aspice utram (que)
Illam homines dices, hanc posuisse Deos.
Englished.
In Adriatick Waters Neptune saw
Venice, that layes on the whole Sea a Law:
Object Tarpejan Towers, Jove, whil'st thou wilt,
He said, and walls by thy Mars Off-spring built,
Prefer'st thou Tyber! view both towns, and th'ods,
And thou wilt yield men that made, this the Gods.
97. Of the Gratuity given the Poet.
The noble Senate for the fair renown
(From his immortal pen) fix'd on their town,
Crown'd (with six thousand crowns) the Poets wit;
'Would I had half so for translating it.
98. Of Women.
The tree a Grace to Eden did appear,
Yet was prohibited our Parents there:
So Women as earths glories we esteem,
And yet how mch are we forbidden them!
[Page] It pleases Heaven to keep us all in awe
(To try our duties) by a rigid Law.
99. Of the same.
In Paradise a Woman caused all
The ruine of mankind by Adams fall:
What wonder then if they o'recome us here
When w'are more weak, and they perhaps as fair?
100. An Epitaph on Mr. John Fletcher, and Mr. Philip Massinger, who lie buried both in one Grave in St. Mary Overie's Church in Southwark.
In the same Grave Fletcher was buried here
Lies the Stage-Poet Philip Massinger:
Playes they did write together, were great friends,
And now one Grave includes them at their ends:
So whom on earth nothing did part, beneath
Here (in their Fames) they lie, in spight of death.
101. Of Augustus Caesar, and Marcus Antonius.
Augustus was to Ovid too unkind,
Who him not onely banish't, but confin'd
Him; had the noble Anthony o'recome,
He might have led his life, and di'd in Rome.
But of these two great Romans this is known,
Caesar caus'd others deaths, Marcus his own.
102. To the Lady Mary Cokaine, Viscountess Cullen.
Madam, I hear you do intend to grace
Your Rushen with your presence all this year,
[Page 187] You cannot honour a more noble Place,
If you resolve the Countrey for your Sphere;
And Lords and Ladies enjoy happiest dayes
When in their homes their right Orbs they appear:
So Stars do glorifie Heaven that keep their Orders,
When Comets do presage ruines and murders.
103. To the same.
Madam, I do recant what I have writ,
As savouring too much of a countrey-wit,
And I fear Clownishness: for where should your
Fair Sexe live but in London evermore?
Bright Ladies in the Countrey, we esteem
As the Sun shaded by the cloudes doth seem;
So Pearls lie hid in Shells, and Diamonds so
Upon their solitary Rocks do grow.
As Stars grace Heaven your beauties do the town,
Which is the proper Sphere for them to own.
Hast therefore up; you here will prove a Star
Of Glory, who move there irregular.
104. An Epitaph of Colonel Ferdinand Stanhope Son to the Earl of Chesterfield, who was slain about Shelford, and lies there buried.
Here underneath this monumental Stone
Lie Honour, Youth, and Beauty all in One:
For Ferdinando Stanhope here doth rest,
Of all those Three the most unequal'd Test.
He was too handsome and too stout to be
Met face to face by any Enemy;
[Page 188] Therefore his foe (full for his death inclin'd)
Stole basely near, and shot him through behind.
105. To my Wives Neece Mrs. Elizabeth Pegge.
I thank my Wife for my so neer relation
Unto a mine of vertue of our nation.
To name your handsomness I do decline,
As to tell Ethiops the Sun doth shine:
You are as witty as the Lesbian Lass,
Who the tenth Muse so oft accounted was:
And chaster then the glorious Roman Dame
That kil'd her self for vicious Tarquin's shame.
Thus I could prosecute your Worths, but know
Y'had rather Heaven then men should judg you so.
106. To her Brother Mr. Tho. Pegge.
The various manners you of men have seen,
And have in divers forreign Cities been;
And after three years travel are come home
From Brussells, Paris, and more glorious Rome,
To fix you here for all your future Life;
I wish y'a vertuous, rich, young, handsome wife.
107. To my Wife.
My Mall, how we desire both to go down,
And still how business stayes us in the town!
Since Plays are silenc'd by the Presbyter,
And Wine is grown so very naught and dear;
London seems frowning like a Step-dame now,
That look'd before with so serene a Brow.
[Page 189] Away therefore, and let us hasten home
To our Loves pledges our dear Mall and Tom.
108. Of Hubert Wypart.
Hubert Wypart a Leigios some years since
My Servant was i'th Countrey, and from thence
Ask'd leave to go to London to be by
At a Friends death of his condemn'd to dy;
For he (he added) loves me so I know,
That he three hundred miles and more would go
To see me hang'd; we could not choose but laugh:
Hubert had leave to go; but's Friend got off.
109. To Tom Mullins.
Tom sell good Ale; and since we do thee grace
To call thy Room Apollo, and the place
With mirth and jests raise Oracles in, be sure
Thy drink have strength to make them both endure:
For it would an Impiety be of thine,
With base Ale to pollute bright Phoebus Shrine.
In lien of Eastern perfumes we will pay
Sacrifice of Verinas every day.
Though we by mighty Liquor fall sometime,
'Tis accidental, and a generous crime;
A fate that upon strictest Friends awaites,
When those that drown themselves in brooks,
Heaven hates.
110. To his Wife.
What Vulcan's wife sell Ale! Thanks Venus for't;
The Goddess though did use another Sport.
Imitate somewhat the Cyprian Queen in life.
But thou art old, and honest: therefore get
A young Wench to fill drink that may be fit.
But thou too much of vertue hast; therefore
Sell Noble Sack, and we will ask no more.
111. An Epitaph on Mr. Isaac Coe who died about the 40th year of his Age.
Here Master Isaack Coe of Lincolns-Inn,
A Glory to that house, and to his kin,
Doth buried lie; which Loss we needs must mourn,
And pay our tears as Tribute to his Urne:
But how can we call this his Sepulchre,
Whom all his Friends do in their hearts inter?
112. To Zoilus.
Zoilus, thou say'st my Epigrams are worse
Then any that thy Censurer did curse:
Zoilus, I am of thy Opinion too;
And therefore (pray thee) make no more adoo.
113. Of Lupa
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten
Have lain with Lupa, and all lusty Men,
Such as their Boasts of strength in each place tell.
Yet none of them could make her Belly swell.
But Lupa vaunts of this; that she doth hate
Her Belly should confirm what Men do prate.
[Page 191] A slanderous tongue oft Innocence traduces;
But when the Belly tells, farewell Excuses.
114. Of Cloe.
One, two, three, four, five▪ six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen Men
Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen more
Cloe hath tempted to make her an whore.
Count how many she hath wish'd she had lain under,
And you will find it come t'a pretty number.
Yet none of them have ever known her bed;
For Cloe still retains her Maidenhead.
Sure she's unhansome then! No; she's a Lass
As beautiful as ever Hellen was.
She is observed by so wary spies,
That hitherto she could not play her Prize:
But twenty t'one e'relong she'l find a time
To cheat their eyes, and perpetrate her Crime.
115. Of the Thames.
Some gallant Rivers do neglected run,
And have no viewers but the constant Sun,
The solitary Moon, and Beasts that by
Their hollow banks do feed themselves to die:
Whil'st upon Thames, the Glory of our Isle,
Fair Towns, and Palaces, and Castles smile:
But above all London (that doth embrace
Those sprightly streams) affords the chiefest grace.
[Page 192] 'Tis well it is so big; or else this Town
(Would in the Beer that's drunk) soon quaff it down▪
116. To my fellow Travellour Mr. Maurice La Meir, alias Ardenville.
How many Cities have we seen, together?
But now I wish we might seen one another.
117. To Porphyrius.
Porphyrius! that is enough to tell,
He that doth all things ill doth nothing well.
An Epigram's is too short for such a matter,
His faults but touch'd at brief deserve a Satyre;
And as an expert Archer hits the white,
So on the Black his Poet needes must light.
118. His Mistress.
She is his own, and he is happy much,
Because besides himself none doth her touch:
But 'tis not for respect to him, or her;
For she's so foul all men do her abhor.
She constant is to him against her minde,
And he t'her, 'cause he can no other find.
119. Their Marriage.
A wedding solemniz'd, because none els
Would court them to divide them from themselves:
And it is fit they should be married, when
None els will have that Woman, or Woman Man.
[Page 193] The beasts are coupled; and 'twill be no wonder,
If like beasts they agree, or part asunder.
120. An Epitaph on Mr. Humphry Cumberford who died in Tamworth about the 34th year of his age, and lyes there buried.
Here Master Humphry Cumberford doth ly,
Who was a Man of truth, and honesty.
A Lady Knighted him (to his good fate)
Whose Honour so scap'd nulling by the State.
Belov'd he was by all of every sort,
From Bess of Bow-Mill to the very Court.
He dy'd a maid, or (if he did do ill)
'Twas not his Nature, but against his will.
But let him rest in peace; and may we all
Wish, we may die as well when death doth call.
121. To Clarinda.
That Lent is sweet, devout Clarinda sayes,
And why? she feeds on sweet-meats most those days.
But pardon me that thus traduce your merit;
You keep the flesh low to advance the Spirit.
122. To my Book.
Go trivial Book, and when thou art abroad
Be humble where thou find'st a kind abode.
If at thy errours any smile, give way,
It is not handsome in thee to gainsay.
They gave some money for thee; and 'tis fit
That (for their money) they some laughter get.
EPIGRAMS The second Book.
1. To the Fellow-Commoners of Trinity Colledge in Cambridge.
GEntlemen, in my youth I spent some years
Within your walls; but few, it plain appears
By this poor Book, which I an offering make
Unto you, for your recreations sake:
Not that I do presume that you may finde
Any thing in it worth your eyes, or minde;
But that the view of these slight toyes may raise
You to accomplish works deserving praise.
When you have laugh'd enough at these, pray take
(Each of you) Pen in hand, and better make:
Which would a noble emulation prove,
And (from our rank) an Obloquie remove.
2. To the Reader.
Reader, (because I would escape the fury
Of all thy Tribe, the grand, and petty Jury
[Page 195] That sit on Books, and Wits) I do profess
Although this Book be small, the Wit in't 's less.
Having thus censur'd it, I need not fear
What others say, or wish them to forbear.
Why should you read it therefore, you exclaime?
Because y'ave bought it read it o're for shame.
13. To Mr. Tho. Harper a Printer.
You Printers, and the Stationers do raise
Unto your selves a fame, if not a praise:
For be the Authour what he will, you give
Stamps of your Names on's Book, and with him live.
But if Errata's you prevent, you raise
Not onely to your selves a Fame, but praise.
4. Of Virgil.
Wherefore should Virgil wrong the Carthage Queen?
Was it through Ignorance, or out of spleen?
If he unwittingly eclips'd her Glory,
The ablest Poet was unskil'd in Story:
If he through malice tax'd her with such guilt,
It was 'cause she Romes dreaded rivall built.
But he might think (though her he did debase)
To be in his Lines any thing was Grace.
5. To Mr. Bryan Cokaine.
Cousin, I hope each Star when you was born,
Did Heaven with a benign aspect adorn:
[Page 196] And every glistering jewel of the sky
Dispense their Good to your Nativity.
You being sweet-condition'd, having mov'd
All men to honour you (so well belov'd)
Nobly descended, bred to all the Arts
That give a man renown for worthy parts;
To a great fortune heir, and a brave seat,
(For what then Rushton can be held more sweet!)
Married to a fine Lady, the first day
Of her youths spring (whose ripe and flourishing May
Of Beauty, still is years to come; yet she
Handsome as fancy can think woman t'be)
Inheritrix unto a grand estate,
(And yet her excellent vertues far more great)
We needs must guess the Heavens your friend, and know
(Y'ave so much Land upon't) the earth is so.
6. To Mrs. Elizabeth Cokaine, his Lady.
Hail Maid, and wife! But (Cousin) I wish you
Had chang'd that name (were older) for a new.
But this is not enough without another:
I wish you quickly too an happy Mother.
Rushton and Roster both expect you shood
Unite them strictlier by so great a good:
Cokaines and Trenthams then their joys will tell;
So till a Christning come (Cousin) Farewell.
7. To my honest kinsman Mr. John Cokaine.
When at your Pigeon-house we meet sometime
(Though bawling Puritans call it a Crime)
And pleasant hours from serious thoughts do steal
With a fine little glass, and temperate Ale,
Talk of Sir Cokaine, and how near
He was alli'd to Will the Conquerer,
*Attested by the same Mr. John Cokaine of Rushton, my Lords Cousin Germane, who had an ancient evidence to prove it. Liv'd in his reign at Henningham Castle, and
That lately there his Bow and Arrows did stand,
That there his Sword and Buckler hung, and that
(If they have scap'd these Times) th'are all there
Some fall asleep because healths are but few, (yet;
And care not for such Tales though ne're so true.
So as (through too much drink) we see sleep come
On others, it for too little falls on some.
8. To Dulcinea.
Dulcinea (it seems) bears me a grutch
Cause of my Love to her I talk so much.
To love, and have no vent at all, would break
An heart, therefore give Lovers leave to speak,
But be appeas'd (fair Maid) for I'le be sworn
I love thee vertuous, vicious O thee should scorn.
9. To Sir Robert Brett.
Sir, that your Lady Cousin-german is
Unto my wife (and yet I boast of this)
Is not my amplest glory; I rejoyce
That to the world your friendship I may voice.
10. To Mr. George Porter.
Whether in one that I affect above
Others, I honour should or friendship love,
Is now become my doubt; but soon I shall
(By contemplating you) o'recome it all.
What is anothers Honour unto me,
If our affections want a Sympathie?
And how can any friendship have a stamp
Of worth upon it, that doth Honour want?
Honour and friendship should Concomitants be,
And (in as near relation) should agree,
As Light doth with the Sun; for Honour doth
Keep friendship from all flawes; they both seem both.
The grand example of your excellent parts
(The wonder, and delight of noble hearts)
Honour and friendship (to their splendid height)
Do in all great and generous souls unite.
Malice it self no stain can tax you with,
But that unto me you your friendship give:
And (Sir) I am so proud on't, that I must
Unto your mighty merit be unjust;
[Page 199] (In this let envy censure how it will)
Pray honour me with your fair friendship still.
11. To Mr. Richard Grey of Adderston, my worthy kinsman.
Sir, you Platonicks do defend too much,
And I guess talking so may make you such:
Yet 'tis not in your nature, I suppose;
For something you may love besides their clothes,
Their conversation, and their vertues in
The tender female Sexe: but you have been
So long a champion for Platonick love,
That you conceit it a disgrace to move
From your aerial tenents; pray you leave
This argument, and all their hopes deceive,
That gape after your wealth when you are gone;
Marry a wife, and leave it to your own.
But (if your humour you resolve shall last)
Make me your heir, and all my trouble's past.
12. An Epitaph on my Noble Cousin Mr. Edward Reppington, who deceased about the 24th year of his age, and lies buried in Tamworth.
Stay, whosoe're thou art that passest by,
And notice take who here entomb'd doth ly:
For Edward Reppington (the hopes, and heir)
Of Ammington and Adderston lies here.
He was a Gentleman of so much worth,
That he hath left few equals on the earth;
[Page 200] As early Fruit for Princes got, even so
(Being ripe for Heaven) he hence so young did go.
The Reppingtons, and Seabrights should rejoyce
For giving being to such ex'lencies;
Although (through Natures weakness) they yet mourn
That's mortal part is faln into his Urne:
They that would be belov'd as he, must grow
In vertue as in years; think on't, and go.
13. Of Men.
How rude is mankind grown! savager far▪
And more inhumane then the brute beasts are!
When our first great Grandsire enjoy'd the joys,
The walks, and Groves of glorious Paradise,
When in the State of Innocense he stood,
(That little while he was completely good)
And ere his beauteous Mate was made, He then
Was King of beasts, and not a King of men.
14. To Robert Shotwall of Ashbourne.
Robin, thy Ale, and company are both
So good, that I to leave thee oft am loth.
But yet thy Bill for Boots and Shoes forgi'me;
And then (I'le promise) you shall oftner see me.
For then to spend I should have so much more
Which should be yours; So I would quit my score.
15. Of Rome.
Rome! once the conquer'd worlds great Head, and yet
The Queen of Cities, and deserving it,
Thy ruines are more glorious to behold
Than our new Palaces glittring with gold
And richest Tapistry: thy Statues broke,
Thy Amphitheatres half faln, the stroke
Of Time upon thy Obelisques, and
Decayes of Emperours; Termes do command
A reverence from our eyes; Each step in thee
Puts us in minde of some Antiquitie.
Triumphant Arches (though half buried) show
Which way victorious Caesars once did go.
This was the earths Metropolis; In it
Historians, Oratours, and Poets met
From all the Provinces; and herein they
Wore many a day and many a night away
In frolick Banquets, made Suburra own
More joyes then on Olympus e're were known.
But various plenty of delicious Wine
Completes thy Praise, and makes an end of mine.
16. Of Womens Clothes.
The gentle female Sexe that doth affect
Liberty so, doth liberty neglect:
For (for the fashions sake) they are content
Their clothes should be their strict Imprisonment.
13. Of Cupid.
Beauty is but opinion of the Liker;
And Cupid's no good archer, but a striker.
His rage he strangly doth employ, and parts
(At random carelesly) with all his darts;
And all these mischiefs, and these miseries
We do impute unto his want of eyes:
But we may bless our fates that he is blind;
Else war (for beauty) would destroy mankind.
18. Of Galla.
Galla hath still her maidenhead; And why?
She is unhandsome, and her price too high.
Yet she would fain be rid of it; but none
Will pay so dear, therefore 'tis still her own.
So (although her desires be thus unjust)
Her covetousness doth overpoise her lust.
19. Of Bettina.
Ever to love a Lass so fair as she
Loseth no judgment, but doth settle me
In an opinion, that I would have no
Zeal in affection, but for her, to show.
All men admire her much who ever yet
Beheld her face: And shall I wrong my wit
Expresly to declare I like her not,
To whom I owe as much as I have got?
[Page 203] Have I my Sences? I can try no way
But by approving her; my eyes survey
All Objects, but like none like her; my ears
Receive no Musick like her voice: her tears
Compose the purest Nectar: her soft touch
Lends torn Prometheus ease; and body such
A perfume doth evaporate, that she
Yields choicer sweets then in Arabia be.
20. To the same.
Although, Bettina, I profess'd deep Love
Unto you, in the Epigram above,
Mine was no want on flame; though I admir'd
Your beauties, I fruition ne're desir'd.
All your discourse was of such pretty stuff,
That I (methoughts) could never hear enough:
Your conversation did my motive prove;
So mine a friendship was, and not a Love.
21. Of the River Cham.
Why crooked Chams dull streams so slowly move,
It is, cause it with Cambridge is in love?
Poor river! thy Amours as vain decline,
For water Schollars care not for, but wine.
22. To my ingenuous Friend Mr. Alexander Brome on his Essay to translate Lucretius.
I know a Lady that hath been about
The same designe, but she must needes give out:
Your Poet strikes too boldly home sometimes,
In geniall things, t'appear in womens rhimes,
The task is masculine, and he that can
Translate Lucretius, is an able man,
And such are you; whose rich poetick vein,
And general Learning perfectly can plain,
And smooth your Authors roughnesses, and give
Him such a robe of English as will live,
Out-wear, and all such works exceed, and prove
This Nations wonder, and this nations Love.
Therefore proceed, (my friend) and soon erect
This Pyramid of our best Dialect.
23. To my dear Cousin-Germans Mrs. Anne, Mrs. Elizabeth, Mrs. Phillipia, and Mrs. Dorothie Stanhope, Sisters.
Lincolne was, London is, and York shall be
The most renowned City of the three,
Is an old saying: but I now must tell
Limby (near Nottingham) doth all excel:
Where live four Stanhopes of the female Sex,
Who (to produce them equals) would perplex
The Land; to which (for all things highly good)
They the best pattern may be understood.
[Page 205] My sweet, fair Cousins! all the worlds four parts
(By Imitation of your rare deserts)
May grow in vertue; you a mirrour be,
Where what they should be womankind may see.
24. To my Ʋncle (in law) Mr. Richard Sutton.
When you and I meet Master Bancroft, we
Envy no mirth of any Company:
We all love cordially; his Wit and Sack
Make us enjoy our selves and nothing lack.
We Covetousness despise and, cares let fly
In Spanish smoke, and consecrate to joy
The hours we spend; and when Sol leaves the skies
Drink our next merry meeting, and so rise.
25. Of Ashborn.
Ashborn (where many years our Cokaines name
Hath been (as Cambden tells us) of some fame)
Though in the Peak thou stand'st, thy fertile ground
(That like a Lover doth embrace thee round)
The Medows needes not envy, which the Thames
Saluteth (in his passage) with his streames.
The banks of Dove we think we do abuse,
If unto those compar'd, of York-shire Ouse.
Our fruitful soil we do prefer to that
Which holy Dee so long hath murmur'd at,
For not affording him a speedier way
To pay his waves to the Virginian Sea.
Severnes and Trent's it envies not and thence
We do conclude yields none preeminence▪
[Page 206] If I commend too much, 'tis not a skill
I would profess, but onely my good will:
Yet other praises I (to this) could joyn;
If Betty Sheepy would draw better wine.
22. To Mrs. Elizabeth Sheepy of Ashbourne.
Betty, your wine is good: and yet we know
You may get better; which we pray you do.
Our Countrey-wits would then leave clubbing
In Darby-Ale, and chang their penny-Pots (groats,
Into fine Venice-glasses (sparkling full)
Of generous Sack, and be more bountiful.
Your Talbot then would rore, and Poets sing
That there did run the true Castalian spring.
Your husband honest Tom (that's sick) it would
Recover soon, and make him live t'be old.
Get therefore (Betty) the best wine you may:
And we will style you our Mnemosyne.
23. To my dear Cousin Germans Mrs Stanhope, and Mrs. Isabella Hutchinson; Sisters.
Let others praise Nottingham for the Site,
The River Trent, and prospects of delight,
Mortimers Cave, and (now) the ruine sad
Of one of the best Castles England had:
I say that you two are the chiefest grace
(By living there) that doth adorn the place.
24. To Mr. John Young, of the Bear in Powlesworth.
Though Puritans on in their grumblings go,
Be merry Master Young, whil'st you are so.
What though their sensless zeal bark at your Bear?
If the Bandogs venture to come so near,
Keep such strong drink shall take them by the Crown,
And pluck the hypocrites of Piety down.
Making them do homage unto your sign,
And think it (though an Image 'tis) divine.
29. Of Men and Women.
Whilst Monuments of Brass and Marble stand,
Whilst Ships do grace the Seas, and Cities Land,
And Men do walk upon the Terrene Ball;
So sure (undoubtedly) will women fall.
Yet let not this the females onely taxe,
Men fall on them that fall upon their backs.
32. To Mr. Ralph Rawson lately fellow of Brasen Nose Colledge.
Though I of Cambridge was, and far above
Your Mother Oxford did my Cambridge love;
I those affections (for your sake) remove;
And (above Cambridge) now do Oxford love:
[Page 208] But I recant that change, and say where e're
You live, that a third Academie's there.
You conquer humane passions, and enshrine
All vertues that the Schooles did e're define;
And to such height master all learned Arts,
That I know none your equal for all Parts:
Therefore what place soever you shall please
To grace with your abode on Lands or Seas,
(Although in frozen Thule) I far above
My Cambridge, and your Oxford shall it love.
31. To my most honoured Cousin the Lady Mary Fitzherbert of Tissington.
Madam, the Peak is famous far and near
For a great many wonders that are there;
Pooles-Hole, the Devils Elden-hole, the well
That ebbes and flowes, make Darbyshire excel▪
The sandy hill that ever falls away
And yet (in bulk) doth suffer no decay:
And Burtons Baith (though in a village town)
Abroad our County give a fair renown.
These and the like do far and near invite
Strangers, and natives to delight their sight.
But these are Grotts, Waters, and Hills, and such
As we have one that doth exceed them much:
Your beauties, and your many vertues speak
You the chief Wonder that doth grace the Peak.
32. Of Naples.
Naples the Romans old Parthenope.
(Built under Hills, upon the Midland-Sea)
Thou to Compania (most delicious Part
Of Italy) the primest Glory art.
The Princes, Dukes, the Counts and Barons that
(In great abundance) there do make their seat,
And flourish in all joyes this Life can grant
To humane kind, others I leave to vaunt:
Above all things that honour't I preferre
The all renowned Virgils Sepulchre;
And think that Virgil dead gives more renown,
Then all those Lords alive, unto that Town.
33. Of Wakes, and May-Poles.
The Zelots here are grown so ignorant,
That they mistake Wakes for some ancient Saint,
They else would keep that Feast; For though they all
Would be cal'd Saints here, none in heaven they call:
Besides they May-Poles hate with all their Soul,
I think, because a Cardinal was a Pole.
34. An Epitaph on Mr. Will. Davenport, a Cousin-German of my wifes, who dyed at Henbury his own house in Cheshire, and lies buried by his wife at Dubridge in Darby-shire; he being aged about 29.
Here William Davenport lies, and (Stranger) know
That he was high in worth that lies so low.
[Page 110] He had a noble soul, and liberal mind,
A generous courage, and behaviour kind;
Sir Thomas Milwards daughter was his wife,
Whom he surviv'd, and led a widowers life.
Our age was proud of him, though (in his prime
Of years) Death gave a Period to his time:
He left two Daughters, and a spotless fame,
VVhich evermore shall wait vpon his Name.
35. To Iustice Would be.
That you are vext their Wakes your neighbours keep,
They guess it is, because you want your sleep:
I therefore wish that you your sleep would take,
That they (without offence) might keep their Wake.
36. To Mrs Elizabeth Spencer.
Hail beauteous Virgin! you whose glorious hair
Justly with Ariadne's may compare:
VVhose eyes are Globes of purest fire, whence flashes
Th' enamour'd Nation soon would burn to ashes,
Did not your mighty modesty delight
(VVith their fair lids, and veils) to cloud their sight.
Your features are such wonders, they can finde
No Parallels throughout all VVomankinde.
How fine your hands are! And how sweetly they
Command the Lutes delicious Harmony!
Your Figure with your Form so right agrees,
That you are Natures exquisitest Piece.
Pretty ones we your feet must guess to be,
That toots are unto such a graceful Tree;
[Page 111] Whose leaves your clothes are & conceal such things
As would in Queens raise envy, Flames in Kings.
Your own affection cause of fruit must prove,
VVhich yet none of our sex could ever move.
You are all fair without, and sure within
Your fairer soul's a glorious Cherubin:
He of mankind will lead the happiest life,
Whom you shall honour to become his wife.
37. Of Pope Urban the Eight.
When I in Rome made some abode, I oft
Urban the Eight beheld, and often laught
To think how here our Zelots bawld him down,
And Preach'd him for the whore of Babylon;
He seem'd a gallant Prince, and they that look,
May find him a fine Poet by his book.
Though bawds have sometimes beards; none sure did see
A Woman ere have such a beard as he.
But they were more mistaken in their speeches,
Tho, virtuous women may, whores wear no breeches:
Besides, no wencher would bestow a doit
To lye with such an whore a winters night.
38. To those Preachers.
My friends, I wish you would forbear your running
After this whore; and henceforth show your cunning
(Leaving this subject, to no purpose vext)
To follow in the lieu of it your text.
35. To Parissus.
Sir, I conceive that you are in the List
Of those that think the Pope is Antichrist:
Could you get one of them with child, alone
It should be you that made the true Pope Ioan.
40. To the Popes.
Princes you are, have Dukedomes, two, or three;
I wish you would give one of them to me:
But that were to rob Peter to give Paul,
Or rather to rob both of them for Saul:
For I a Lay-man am, and (which is worse)
I think a Poet, by my empty purse.
41. To my wife on the birth of her daughter Isabella.
I in this second Daughter wish you joy,
Yet should have had more, had it been a Boy.
Girles are (by far) more chargeable; And (when
Boyes are grown up) less care will serve for Men.
You say a Nun you mean her: such another
(I think) you do intend as was her mother.
But whether she live Maid, or prove a wife,
I wish her a long, healthful, happy life.
So I do leave you with your new Delight,
Till you and I do meet again at Night.
42. Of our Ladie of Loretto.
I have been at Loretto, and did there
See the fam'd House, which I'le not argue here;
[Page 113] Do onely wish (when I from Earth remove)
That I may see where she abides above.
43. An Epitaph on Mr. Thomas Pilkington, one of the Queens Musicians, who dyed at Wolverhampton about the 35 year of his age, and lies there buried.
Musicks prime Master of our Land, this stone
Covers; For here lies matchless Pilkington:
He was the soul of Musick, did contain
All sorts of it in his harmonious brain.
A strange malignant Fever set a strife
Between his soul and body; ceas'd his Life.
So with his soul the soul of Musick fled,
Leaving that Science fainting, though not dead.
Though oft his work was playing, it was such,
As all Musicians cannot do so much
With all their works. In brief, the richest Part,
The best Epitome of all that Art
And choisest Musick (that ere ravish'd ear)
(Put out of tune by death) lie buried here.
44. To Zoilus.
Zoilus reports never a line I write
Deserves t' appear before a wisemans sight:
Zoilus, at this I nothing do repine;
But say (thou being a Fool) th'are fit for thine.
45. An Epitaph on my dear sister Mrs. Lettice Armstrong, who deceased about the 43 of her age, and of Mrs. Lucy Cokain, who dyed about the 34 of hers, and lye both buried at Ashborn.
Lettice and Lucy here (two sisters) lye,
So constant to each others company,
Death could not part them long; for four years space
Reduc'd them both to this Sepulchral place.
There was no difference 'twixt them all their Life,
Save one liv'd single, th' other was a Wife.
They both were virtuous; left this world behind
In hope the Glories of the next to finde.
Their Coffins lye so very close, it doth
Appear, as if one Grave contain'd them both:
As their loves did unite them; so the stone
That both of them doth cover, is but one:
And (more to shew their mutual hearts) it hath
For both (upon it) but one Epitaph.
46. To my Cousin Mr. Thomas Cokaine of Manciter.
You boast your Manciter was once a Town
(When here the Romans govern'd) of Renown:
That Aderston from Ruines of it grew
To be so spacious, and so fair of view.
I yield unto your Truthes, and adde one more,
Aderston drink makes Manciter so poor.
47. Upon the Marriage of Mr. Edward Tilsly, and Mrs. Anne Fleetwood.
So all your fears are past; you both are sped,
And have no trouble but to go to bed:
Where (what young married couples love the best)
I wish you a good night with little rest.
48. Of Vesuvius.
I on the top have of Vesuvius been,
There laid me down upon my breast, and seen
Into the mighty Rupture, whence the smoke
Proceeds, that often seems the skies to choke:
Torre de Guego din'd at, which I found
(With that Hills scalding streams) much burnt and drown'd.
As with (their quarries) Hills build Cities, so
They (with their vomits) them may overthrow,
49. Of George Buchanon.
Buchanons oathes at Murries service were;
What he would say audacious George would swear.
Poets would lye I've heard, but never one
That would forswear himself but Buchanon;
Yet he a famous Poet was: what though?
Serpents may lurk in flowers of fairest show.
50. To Mrs. Anne Adams, my mothers Cosin-german
Whilst you the generous Trenthams name enjoy'd,
And knew not what it was to be a Bride;
[Page 116] You in delicious Brussels wore away
Most of your virgin-years beyond the Sea,
There you did thinke to lead a single life;
But thanks to Iohn that won you to his wife.
Who (when you did return to England) found
That way to fix you on your native ground:
For you together live, as if heaven meant
To make you (though not richest) most content.
51. To my highly honoured Cousin-German, Mr. Arthur Sanhope, son to the Earl of Chesterfield.
I do rejoyce at the respect you bear
To Bretby, by your choice of living there:
My Lord so great a house kept, that by none
(Of all our Noblemen) he was out-gone:
And you so neatly and gentilely live,
That all that know you Commendations give.
If my Lord Stanhope comes, and you remove,
May you be follow'd by all good mens love;
That (wheresoere you live) there may be seen
No change, but alteration of the Scene.
52. To Mris. Elizabeth Kendall, my wives Niece.
Twycross I cannot choose but envy, where
Such ravishing Musick is, and I not there.
You, and your sister Frank Pegge every day
So rarely sing, that wondring Queens would stay
(To listen to your Layes) from any sport,
And prize (that while) your house above a Court.
35. To Mr. Humphrey Mosley, and Mr. Humphrey Robinson.
In the large book of Playes you late did print
(In Beaumonts and in Fletchers name) why in't
Did you not justice? give to each his due?
For Beaumont (of those many) writ in few:
And Massinger in other few; the Main
Being sole Issues of sweet Fletchers brain.
But how came I (you ask) so much to know?
Fletchers chief bosome-friend inform'd me so.
Ith'next impression therefore justice do,
And print their old ones in one volume too:
For Beaumonts works, & Fletchers should come forth
With all the right belonging to their worth.
54. To my much honoured Cousin Sir Francis Burdet Baronet.
The honest Poet, Michael Drayton, I
Must ever honour for your Amity,
He brought us first acquainted; which good turn
Made me to fix an Elegie on's urn:
Else I might well have spar'd my humble stuffe;
His own sweet Muse renowning him enough.
In Warwick-shire your house and mine stand neer,
I therefore wish we both were setled there;
So we might often meet, and I (thereby)
Your excel'nt conversation oft enjoy:
[Page 118] What good should you get by it? truly none:
The profit would acrue to me alone.
55. To Mrs. Anne Gregson of Ashburn.
Y' are good, and great, and had you had some itch
For wealth, and married God be here, had been rich:
But money you contemn'd (it doth appear)
Content to live a widdow by good Beer.
56. To my sweet Cousin Mrs. Isabella Milward.
Your noble father Sir Iohn Zouch (when you
Was very young) occasion'd you to view
Virginia, took you thither, where some years
You spent, till you had moistned with your tears
His and your eldest sister Katharine's Tombe,
Interr'd so far from Codnor their old home.
After so sad a loss you thought it time
To return back unto your native clime,
Where your (by all men honour'd) husband found,
A richer Prize then all the spacious ground
Known by Vesputius surname ere did give;
And may you long together happy live.
57. An Epitaph on King Arthur.
Arthur our Worthy, whose grand fame in war
Shall evermore load Fames triumphant Car,
This Marble covers; nobler dust then those
For whom the Pyramids of Egypt rose.
Had but his life reacht out to his intent,
Queen Artemisia's wondrous Monument
[Page 119] Had been his Sepulchre, and not his tombe;
His merits would have rose to such a summe.
Nothing but treason foul could periodize
The Progress in his Saxon victories:
And Glassenbury Abbey loudly boasts
That it contains the Terrour of their Hoasts.
58. An Epitaph on Henry the fourth of France,
Forbear thy rude approch, bold Passenger:
Henry the Great, the fourth of France lies here.
His claim unto that Crown he knew so right,
That he for it unarm'd did often fight.
The sword of Mars, Minerva's Lance, and Gun
Of Mulciber fear never made him shun.
Cover'd with fire and bullets by his Foes,
He wore them not as Terrours, but his clothes.
What Spain, France, and the League could not command
With their united force, a murtherers hand
Did perpetrate: Ravilliac struck him from
The top of all his Glories to his Tombe.
As the bright Sun (throughout our Hemisphere)
His course being finished) sets full and clear,
And the next morn again doth beauteous rise,
And with his beams decks both the earth and skies:
So he (after a life triumphant led)
Did bid the world adieu, and here lies dead:
And when the last day comes (return'd from dust)
Shall glorious rise, and live among the Just.
59. Of Fame.
Fame's a strange Good, and a strange Evil, that
Doth often give too much, and oft detract;
And sometimes justice doth, and hits the Mean,
Avoiding each extravagant Extream.
Let us precisely to our duties stick,
And Fames worst malice shal not wound to th'quick:
Or if it gives us that which is above
Our merits, why such flatteries should we love?
Doth Fame the virtuous right? 'tis well. We shall
Else each have's due after his funeral.
60. An Epitaph on Mr. Ralph Fitzherbert who dyed at Ashby de la Zouch about the 22 year of his age, and lies there buried.
Cornet Fitzherbert (who in many a Fight
Lord Loughboroughs Colours bore in the Kings right)
Lies here inter'd: His skill in Musick gone,
And his good parts all cover'd with this stone.
He was too brave to find an Enemy
To kill him; and therefore in's bed did dye.
Yet was he young and virtuous: but alas!
On youth and virtue death no pity has.
Learn therefore (Reader) that no humane state
Is safe; and alwayes live prepar'd for Fate.
61. Of Death.
Once born the best must dye: why (therefore) then
Should Death inflict such terror on us men?
Faint-hearted souls they are that fear to run
The common Path which there's no hope to shun.
A Life to Heaven and Earth in justice led,
Will give us leave to live in no such Dread;
They that so pass their dayes, the world shall find
That they a fair Report do leave behind:
When those that otherwise do wast their Times,
Shall fill Posterities mouthes with their foul crimes.
62. To Mris. Katharin Pegge my wives eldest sister.
Although this age is against Crosses set,
I cannot quit me of my Crosses yet:
But welcome any Cross that comes, we say;
It may be for our goods another day.
So let us ever to the Powers divine
Our selves, and what belongs to us resign:
That no Prosperity may be allow'd
So to exalt our mindes to make us proud;
And no Adversity deject us so,
But patiently we may it undergo.
Then let our Crosses go, or Crosses come,
Whilest we can say, the will of Haaven be done.
63. Of Cambridge and Oxford.
Cambridge one doth commend, Oxford another,
And would have one prefer'd above the other.
[Page 122] VVhen they are best term'd equals: And no other
Such Foreign Place comes near the one or th'other▪
This my opinion is: who would an other,
May leave to trouble me, and ask another.
64. To Mrs. Elizabeth Nevil, my wives youngest sister.
If you at Westow-Lodge do live▪ I there
Do often wish my self to be so near
My mother Cambridge: If at Holt you live
In Leicestershire, I there my self would give
The Pleasures of that gallant Seat, whose sight
Affords fine Prospects various in delight.
Or if you live at Cressing Temple, then
Thither my wish transporteth me age [...];
Colchester Oysters and Sea-fish invite
Thither ofttimes my longing appetite.
But pardon me these vanities: above
All these, I your sweet conversation love,
And your good husbands noble Company:
Those things I talk'd of, but would these enjoy.
65. To Parson Dulman.
Your zealous Ignorance doth oft dispraise
Our Poets whatsoever that write Playes:
So small a pittance you of learning have,
Their worst of Playes doth all your works outbrave;
And I your zealous ignorance dispraise,
Telling you fam'd Nick Machiavil writ Playes.
[Page 123] But you to write a Play think an offence,
Is it not worse to preach so much nonsence?
66. To Mrs Francis Shalcross, and Mrs. Julia Boteler my Niece, on their wedding night.
To bed (fair bride) your happy groom
(Full of desire) doth long to come,
Now lye down by her in a trice;
Your Genial bed's a Paradise.
Though she's to lose, you are to get,
Her Zone unti'd untiddles it:
You need not any sweet forbear,
Both moving in your proper sphere.
I need not wish you joy; you have
What Heaven can give, or Lovers crave:
But truely wish (unto this height)
It may last both your lives. Good night.
67. To Captain Mouther.
I've been importun'd by some friends to tell
How I approve your verses; I say well:
Nor dare I otherwise that understand
You have a desperate Courage, heavy hand,
And a long sword. Those few that do not matter
The trifle cal'd their lives, may scorn to flatter:
And so do I, swearing that you write Works
Will please the Christians, and amaze the Turkes.
69. To Mr. Clement Fisher of Wincott.
Shakspeare your Wincot-Ale hath much renownd,
That fo'xd a Beggar so (by chance was found
Sleeping) that there needed not many a word
To make him to believe he was a Lord:
But you affirm (and in it seem most eager)
'Twill make a Lord as drunk as any Beggar.
Bid Norton brew such Ale as Shakspeare fancies
Did put Kit Sly into such Lordly trances:
And let us meet there (for a fit of Gladness)
And drink our selves merry in sober sadness.
70. To Astrologers.
Your Industry to you the art hath given
To have great knowledge in th'outside of heaven:
Beware lest you abuse that Art, and sin,
And therefore never visit it within.
An Epitaph on Mrs. Brigit Allibond, who dyed at Chenye about the eighteenth year of her age, and lies there buried.
Here Brigit Allibond doth buried lye;
Whose too much love occasioned her to dye.
Insatiate thirst of gold! Her Servants friends
Sent him to travel, and workt' both their ends;
There he deceas'd: which sad news thrust the Dart
Of death through both her ears into her heart:
So Love chang'd Darts with Death, Love too unkind
To kill the body with the wound oth' mind.
[Page 125] Virgins should mourn her loss; And (by her) men
May see how Maids belov'd can love agen.
72. An Epitaph on Lycisca, who forc'd her husband to counterfeit his Religion.
Here lyes Lycisca, that was full of Evil:
And (therefore to be fear'd) gone to the Devil.
Now (seeing he and she have set all even)
Her Husband may walk in the Rode to Heaven.
73. To Mrs. Francis Pegge, my wifes Neece.
You once did think to be a Nun, but now
I hope you will forbeae that sacred vow;
And if you will be making vows) pray take
An husband, and an holy vow him make:
So whether you become a Nun, or wife,
(Under a vow) you may lead out your life.
74. To Mr. Gilbert Knyveton, and Mr. Thomas Knyueton my wifes Brothers.
Pray take an house, and so continue on
The hospitality you have begun:
For of such means none handsomer did live,
Or to their friends more generous welcome give.
Though you from Bradley are remov'd, make known
To noble minds each Country is their own.
75. To my sister Mrs. Katharine Weston.
We were two brothers, and five sisters; now
They are all dead, alas! save I, and you:
All that Affection that among us was,
Let us therefore on one another place:
So we (for Brothers, and for sisters love)
An Emulation shall in others move.
76. To my Cousin Mr. John Milward.
Of women some are foul, and some are fair,
Some virtuous are, and others are as bad:
Some go in poor apparel, others rare,
Some melancholy are, and others glad:
Some are at their prime, others decaying are,
Some are reserv'd, and others to be had:
Some timorous are, any thing others dare,
Some dull and mop'd, and others blith, and mad:
Some humorous are, others of freakes beware,
Some love to keep rheir homes, others to gad:
Some high in virtues do themselves declare,
Others are overwhelm'd in vices sad.
Ovid would take of all to please his sences:
Give me a glass of Sack, and choose you wenches.
77. An Epitaph on Mr. Peter Allibond, Fellow of Lincolne Colledge in Oxford.
Here buried lies within this hollow ground,
Oxfords prime glory, Peter Allibond:
[Page 127] His Learning Lincolne Colledge hath renown'd,
And few the road to his high Parts have found.
Death in his Proctorship gave him his wound,
And (thereby) hindred him to go his Round;
And here hath laid him in a sleep so drown'd,
Not to awake but by th' last trumpets sound:
From hence then to arise, and to be crown'd
(We hope) with joyes, where all joyes do abound.
78. To my Niece Mrs. Isabella Boteler.
Your sister Iulia's married well, and so
(Sweet Niece) I wish you were dispos'd of too.
You the green sickness languish in, and sure
For that an husband is the proper'st cure.
What tho child-bearing pains on women drawes?
Sweet-meats (by th' Proverb) should have sowre sauce.
79. To Mr. Andrew Whitehall.
You make a Violl speak: your nimble hand,
That instrument seems onely to command.
How meanly many play! strike so amiss,
That (at their want of skill) the strings do hiss:
Like resty horses they false steps do make,
And the vext strings with very shame to shake.
VVell tun'd that would agree, they wrong so far,
Their artless violence doth make them jar.
So they but scrape, abuse the strings, and stick;
How dull the quickest are to you more quick!
Some few with their soft hands may please; but you
Please not alone, but raise amazement too.
[Page 128] Your fingers on the neck, and hand on Bow,
The motions of the Intellect out-go.
Such is your playing: But if you would write,
How much you Works all mankind would delight!
80. An Epitaph on my Father Mr. Tho. Cokain, who deceased in London, about the of his age, and lyes buryed in St. Giles's Church in the Fields.
Stay Passenger, and read under this stone,
Here Thomas Cokain lyes, Sir Edwards son.
Mapleton gave him birth; but far from home
At London he deceas'd, and this his Tombe
Too mean a Monument for his great worth;
But virtue never findes reward on earth.
He was his families Heir; but (transitory
Knowing all terrene wealth) chang'd his for glory.
And here his body soft repose doth take
Till him the Angels Trumpets shall awake.
81. Of Cats.
Two Cats fell out, and one an other slew;
May all Cats so to one another do:
Yet I can them endure, would be their friend,
But that they company so oft offend.
82. Of the English, Spanish, and French.
The Spaniards love the English, they them hate;
The English love the French, and they hate them;
A strange capriciousness of humane Fate,
[...] Nations should affect whom them contemn▪
[Page 129] Despised Lovers need not to complain,
Seeing tis known whole kingdomes love in vain.
83. Of the Low Dutch.
The Belgians hate all but themselves; wherefor
Because no nation else can them endure.
What should the reason be of such an hate?
For aid receiv'd they have been so ingrate.
84. To Isabel Manifold of the Black Swan in Ashb
Heark Isbel Parker! Isbel Hood! But hold,
These names might serve were hers not Manifol▪
Pray answer, were your husband in the grave,
Soon after would not you another have?
If other women divers men should use,
They would disgrace their names for such abuse:
But (without blushes) you may hear it told,
That you (of Men) have lain with Manifold.
85. To the same.
As great a wonder as black Swans some guess,
So strange a thing an honest Hostess is.
It is believ'd that there no black Swans are▪
But you are, and are honest, so more rare.
86. An Epitaph on my most honoured kinsman Ferdinando Earl of Huntington, who deceased at his house in Donnington Park about the 48 year of his age, and lyes buried at Ashby de la Zouch.
Here Ferdinando Earl of Huntington
Doth lye inter'd under this Marble-stone;
[Page 130] VVhich will weep drops of dew, if we refrain
To shed our tears; yet weeping is in vain.
Nor sighes nor tears will call him from his urn;
Our griefs then let's to imitation turn.
Let's emulate his worthy Parts (for such
His Qualities were) and we shall merit much:
For each man may report that passeth by,
Courtesie and good Nature here doth lie.
87. To Henry Right of the Cock in Poulesworth.
Harry, what ere thou dost (by day or night)
(Though it be never so amiss) th' art Right:
Though some for doing wrong taxe thee in spight,
Contemn their malice; for th' art known t' be Right.
Let thy Guests sober go to bed, not fight,
And all thy reckonings be as thou art, Right:
And lead an upright life, that thou mayst light
On Heaven at last, and there thou t' be most Right.
88. Of high-spirited women.
Neither do husbands heed, nor Heaven above
(For the most part) high-spirited women love
Are they in errour? through their ignorance,
And self-opinion they prove seldom Saints.
And husbands who are tide unto such wives,
Usually live with them unquiet lives.
To wed meek women men are most inclin'd,
And Heaven it self affects the humble mind.
89
In thalamis Regina tuis hac nocte jacerem,
Si verum hoc esset, Pauper ubique jacet.
Englished.
Queen, in your chamber I should lye to night,
If a poor man lyes every where, were right.
To Sir Robert Hilliard.
Who made this Distich it is fit I tell,
Which I have English'd but indifferent well;
I think Tom Randolph: Pardon what's amiss
In my translation for my gift of his;
Whom you and I so well did love and know,
When Cambridge (for his wit) extol'd him so.
90 To my honoured Cousin Mr. Basill Fitzherbert of Norbury, and his Lady.
Basill Fitzherbert did Iane Cotton wed,
And she hath blest him with a Sonne and Heire;
A Couple fortunate i'th Genial bed,
And in all other things an happy pair.
This is my judgement of your worths, and you
(By all your actions) confirme it true.
91. To my noble Cousin Mr. Charls Cotton the younger.
D' Avila, Bentivoglio, Guicciardine,
And Machiavil the subtile Florentine,
(In their Originals) I have read through,
Thanks to your Library, and unto you;
[Page 132] The prime Historians of late times; at least
In the Italian Tongue allow'd the best.
When you have more such books, I pray vouchsafe
Me their perusal. Il'e return them safe:
Yet (for the courtesie) the recompense
That I can make you will be onely thanks.
But you are noble-soul'd, and had much rather
Bestow a benefit, then receive a favour.
92. To the same.
Your Basford house you have adorned much;
And Bently hopes it shortly shall be such:
Think on't; and set but Bentley in repair,
To both those Basfords you will show y'are Heir.
93. To my honoured friend Mr. Samuel Roper.
Make Darbyshire by your most able Pen,
Allow you her obliging'st Countrey-man;
From dust and dark oblivion raise her Glories,
And (from old Records) publish all her stories.
So you (with Mr. Dugdale) shall remain
Your Countreys honour; other Countreys stain.
94. To Mrs Mary Cokain my eldest daughter.
Because I fear my fate is not so good,
To give you such a portion as I wou'd:
Your Education I intend shall prove
Some satisfaction to you of my love.
Musick and Dancing I would have you taught,
And all the skil that is by needles wrought:
[Page 133] All sorts ofhouswifery that should be done,
(From your own chamber) to the meanest Room:
And (to give full perfection) to walk even
(Whilst here you live) in the right road to Heaven.
95. To the right honourable the Lord Winfield Cromwell Earle of Arglass, my noble kinsman.
My Lord, a share y'ave given me in a Grove:
But how shall I requite so great a Love?
If ever I (in any of my land)
Should Gold or silver find, you shall command:
I hope to get much money by your Lead,
If store of ore God Plutus there hath hid:
But should I gain no riches from your ground,
Yet I may boast that there your love I found.
96. To my worthy friend Mr. Henry Turville.
Most of these are too long and naught, tis true;
I wish them faultless both for me and you:
For I your candour would provoke, not blame,
And (to my self) acquire some little Fame.
97. Of Cupid and Marriage.
Cupid is careless and doth shoot at random,
Strikes a young man, and oftentimes a Grandam▪
Yet neither he Physician is, or Surgeon,
To cure the wounds his senseless Darts do urge on,
Either by any med'cines, or Incision:
The nuptial bed is Surgeon and Physician.
97. To Parson Nameless.
When you do preach of Mountain Ararat,
And how Noahs floating Ark first staid thereat;
Though your loud voice doth fill the sacred house,
Your Sermon bigge with mountains drops a Mouse.
99. To my honoured Cousin Mr. Charls Cotton Iunior.
Donne, Suckling, Randolph, Drayton, Massinger,
Habbington, Sandy's, May, my Acquaintance were:
Iohnson, Chapman, and Holland I have seen,
And with them too should have acquainted been.
What needs this Catalogue? Th' are dead and gone;
And to me you are all of them in one.
100. To Mr. John Adams, my Cousin.
When we at Pembletous in Roster meet,
Time that before went slow flyes very fleet;
The reason is, an easie thing to think,
A knot of Jovial Blades, and mighty Drink.
101. Of a Roome in cal'd the Minerva.
Approch not you dull souls, that durt and muck
Do grovell in; follow your sordid luck:
Athens no Fame had for mechanick Arts,
But by those generous spirits of nobler Parts.
They that are Wits, and love the Wits, may come,
Converse and tipple in this jovial Room;
Pallas admits none else: For know, the Owle,
Her sacred Bird will (at their entrance) howl.
[Page 135] Herein the Grécian Sages do converse,
And here the Poets their high lines reherse.
Here Tully and Demosthenes doe plead,
And Plato here and Aristotle's read:
For this the Epitome of Athens is,
And teaches all the Liberal sciences.
Such is the companies discourse: Then hence
All earthen-minded Brats of ignorance;
And welcome the ingenious to this spring
That makes the Orator write, and Poet sing;
To the Philosopher new truths discovers,
And courage gives to the faint-hearted Lovers.
To those lets drink (Conversion from their Crime)
That over Ale and Beere can spend their time,
That on their Errours they may may turn their back,
And in Minerva's Fane here tipple Sack:
For Ale and Beer breed Flegm, engender Pains;
But rich Canarie elevates the Brains.
102. To my honoured Friend Mr. Cassevilan Burton.
Where will you do your self so great a right
To let your English Martial view the light?
You will oblige this Nation by your pains,
Those 'specially to whom the Latin's strange.
And he (in the Elysian shades) will smile
To heare he speakes the language of this Isle.
103. Of Cardinal Bellarmine.
Of all the writers of the Roman Part,
Bellarmine, thou the most confuted art:
[Page 136] How happens thy ill Fortune, that we call
Thy confutation, if we drink up all?
104. Of Cornelius Gallus.
A Poet and a Traytour is such news,
Mercuries and Diurnals do not use.
Gallus a Traitour; Gallows a Reward:
But sure Augustus did not prove so hard.
He put him to a nobler death we hope;
Poets should live by linesn, ot dye by'th rope.
105. To Banellus.
Welcome (good Sir) to truth, and welcome to
The way to Heaven which you directly go:
May we your stedfast footsteps follow even,
And (tis no doubt) we shall arrive at Heaven.
106. To Mr. Henry Longville.
Marvel not (Friend) that oftentimes I write
As if in drinking I did take delight:
I (at my best) am ill enough, and hate
To make my self a Beast at any rate.
Of Mirth and companie I sometimes think;
The cause that now and then I write of drink.
107. Of Catullus, Tibullus, and Propertius.
The ancient Epigrammatist Catullus,
Propertius, and the amorous Tibullus,
Are often bound together: whats the reason?
They all weremerry Blades at every season;
[Page 137] Whilst they did live they often were together:
And now th' are dead th' are bound up so in Leather.
108. To my Son Mr. Thomas Cokaine.
Let others glory in their Hawks and Hounds,
Their golden heaps, and Circuit of their Grounds,
Their gallant Breed of Horses, and their meat,
Drest so, that Heliogabalus would eat;
Their Mistresses (whose Beauties would inflame
Unknown Lands Salvages, and make them tame)
Themselves, and them so richly dres'd, that you
The Heavens (without a Cloud) would think in view:
Give me a study of good Books, and I
Envy to none their hugg'd Felicity.
109. To Mr. Daniel Millescent.
Momus doth carp that I do write so few
Lines on this Theme, and sayes th' are not enow:
I to a hundred thousand write tis true,
And worth so many (for your worths) are you.
110. To Mr. Robert Creitton Dr. of Divinity, formerly Oratour and Greek Professour of the University of Cambridge.
Among the many friends that I do name,
Neglected I do mention you, 'twere shame.
You were my Tutour; and tis fit I show
The world a Part of the Respects I owe:
Let this poor trifle be an atome of it,
Although to my disgrace and your no profit.
[Page 138] Expect from your learn'd Pupils Works of Art;
I can present you but a grateful heart.
111. Of high-spirited women.
Histories of all ages do declare
High-spirited women noble things have done:
One shall serve mention'd in particular,
And she the brave Ioeni an Amazon.
Bonduca long the Romans force withstood,
And seal'd her love t'her Countrey with her blood.
112. To Momus.
Momus doth grumble; Prethee spare me not:
Th' excception's just thou hast against me got.
I writ Catullus, and the other two,
Were all of them Contemporaries, tis true:
Valerius ere they flourish'd dy'd, I know it;
Poets may feign, in that hold me a Poet:
With truth of History I was too bold,
As men tye knots on Ropes to make them hold.
113. To Mr. Edmond Ravenhill.
How in your company I do delight!
A Pleasure to my ears, as well as sight
When on the Harpsecals your sister Win
Doth play, and you upon the Violin;
I with that musick am affected much,
She plays so well, and eke your Art is such.
Hast t'us, and when (with playing) you are weary;
A Bottle of rich sack shall make us merry.
114. To Anne Hill▪
Nan Hill, th'art good and great: Think it not better
To grow up to a Mountain, and be greater:
With marriage therefore do not be beguil'd;
Y'are made a Mountain if y'are got with child.
But marry (Nan Hill) if you should grow wanton,
Rather then to be worse become a Mountain.
115. To my honoured kinsman Mr. Edward Darcy.
Repair your house at Newhall, and hast down,
And leave the noise of this expenceful Town:
You here deprive your self of many a good
To be enjoy'd by Countrey-solitude.
Pretend not want of Companie; For I
Will waite upon you oft, that live thereby.
You may reply you better would; I grant it:
Keep a good house there, and you need not want it.
116. An Epitaph on Mr. Gilbert Knyveston, my wives Brother, who deceased in London about the 38 year of his age, and lies buried at St. Giles in the fields.
Stay Passenger, forbear thy hast,
And read whom Death herein hath plac't:
For Gilbert Knyveston here doth lye,
A shaking of mortality.
All Ethicks he his practice made,
On Christian foundation laid.
[Page 140] His Life was noble, and his Death
A rich soul did to heaven bequeath:
His loss we therefore should not mourn,
But (for our selves) to sadness turn;
Lament that we do want so much
Of those great worthes that made him such.
Let's study him, and imitate so,
That we may prove like him: Now go.
117. Of amorous Courtship.
Men do solicite Women, they contemne,
(If they are bashful) to importune them:
Man was made first, and therefore should begin;
Do Women? They 'gainst Modesty do sin.
118. Of Katherine Boer.
A Catholick German knit his angry brow,
And cal'd Frier Martin Luthers wife a Sow:
But such his Passion was it did run ore,
She could not be a Sow that was a Boar.
119. Of Puritans.
Against Saints Fasts the Puritans do bawl:
And why? To th' Flesh they are addicted all.
120. To my brother in law Mr. William Nevil.
Dare Cambridgeshire, leave off to boast
Thy University so crost:
And Cambridgeshire, forbear to vaunt
Of Ely, fam'd for many a Saint;
[Page 141] And Westow-lodge henceforth let be
The primest glory that's in thee;
Where plenty, neatness, and a right
Well-govern'd house yield full delight;
VVherein you and your Lady give
Example how the good should live.
121. To Mrs. Alice Nevill, his sister.
Y'are virtuous, young, and handsome; and I dare
VVith Sydneyes Queen of Corinth you compare.
Between you I no difference can write;
But she was slighted, you your servants slight,
You may relent, and I do hope you will:
If prayers prevail not, Cupid use thy skill.
122. To Mrs. An & Mrs. Mildred Nevil his daughters.
Henceforth our English youth may cease to glory
In famous Sydneys celebrated story:
For you two sisters shortly must incite
Some matchless pen your happy lives to write;
That unto all this land it may be known,
Pamela and Philoclea are out-gone.
123. To Paulinus.
Marry in Lent! tis strange; and yet no treason
You say, although unusual that season:
Marriage is not, but the solemnization
Forbidden then, and y'ave a dispensation.
The Church hath favour'd you; shew it your duty,
And prize 't henceforth above your Ladies beauty.
124. To my honoured friend Major William Warner.
Playes, Eclogues, Songs, a Satyre I have writ,
A remedy for those 'ith amorous fit,
Love Elegies, and Funeral Elegies,
Letters of things of divers qualities,
Encomiastick Lines to works of some,
A Masque, and an Epithalamium,
Two Books of Epigrams: All which I mean
Shall (in this volume) come upon the Scene;
Some divine Poems, which (when first I came
To Cambridge) I writ there, I need not name;
Of Dianea neither my Translation,
Omitted here as of another fashion.
For heavens sake name no more you say, I cloy you:
I do obey you; Therefore (friend) God b'wy you.
125. Of this Book.
This little Work I've done, which time may wast;
Or Ioves displeasure into darkness cast:
But I will hope the best, and that it may
Last (after I am ashes) many a day.
FINIS.
EPIGRAMS. The third Book.
1. To the Gentry of Darbyshire.
GEntlemen, and my Countrey men! pray look
With courteous eyes upon this trivial Book:
For I present it to you, that it may
Show my respects to you another day.
Why to the Lords I write not you enquire:
I should not be so bold, though I desire.
But (to avoid prolixity of words)
Gentlemen they are, though you are not Lords.
2. To the Readers.
Two Books of Epigrams I've writ before,
Yet (Gentle Readers) I present you more:
Behold the third here offer'd you; but what
It will prove, good or bad, I know not yet.
May it likewise obtain your candor; els
Henceforth (for me) write Epigrams your selves.
3. To the Right Honourable Philip Earl of Chesterfield, Baron of Shelford, &c.
Philip the second! Earl of Chesterfield!
I a request have, and I hope you'l yield:
Yet I (in modesty) long time have stuck
From making it; And 'tis but for a Buck:
Bestow one on me, and on this good reason,
I will not ask again till the next season.
4. An Epitaph on Elizabeth the Lady Reppington, who deceased at Ammington, about the 50. year of of her age, and lies buried at Tamworth.
Here underneath this Monumental Stone
Elizabeth the Lady Reppington
Doth lye inter'd: And therefore whosoere
Thou art that passest by, awhile forbear
Thy hast, and read, and weep; for he's unjust
Unto the merits of her precious dust,
That doth not drop his Tears in showers; for she
Is worthy of eternal Memory,
Worthy of storms of sighes, Thunder of Grones,
To mourn her loss with due afflictions.
The sea-bright family that gave her birth,
Hath gain'd thereby a glory on the earth.
Happy her husband in so good a wife!
Happy her children to receive a life
From such a Magazine of worthes as she!
A fair example for Posterity.
[Page 145] To name her virtues, is to name them all;
She was their Centre, she their pure White-hall,
Their Court, their Palace, where heaven did rejoyce
To see such Cherubims without a vice.
She was their Paradise, and her bright soul
The Diety that did command the whole.
But O! there is another heaven, else sure
Her soul had never left a place so pure.
Earth is not the reward for virtue. Look
Upwards, that's towards her, she is a Book,
A Directory for thy life; which read,
And practiced, thou wilt be so prais'd when dead.
An Epitaph on my honoured Cousin Mr. John Reppington, who deceased at Ammington about the 25 year of his age, and lies buried at Tamworth.
Here lies Iohn Reppington, that came to be
(By Edwards death) Heir of his Family:
As t'him his elder brother did give room,
So he t' his younger, witness by this tomb.
He a few weeks after his mother di'd,
And of the same (new term'd) disease beside;
So he a most obsequious son was found,
That waited on his mother under ground.
He was good natur'd, bore an honest mind,
Belov'd by all men, and to all men kind:
And had no foe but death, who (too severe)
Hath cast an Heir so young and hopeful here.
6. To Mr. Charles Hutchinson my Cousin German.
Cousin, I long to see you married well,
And long (at Rawslison) to see you dwell.
Then I should oft wait on you, make some stay;
It being (from Pooly t' Ashburn) in the way.
So I should make your house mine Inne; what tho?
W'are friends, and neer a kin: Pray be mine so.
7. To Mr. Francis Fitzherbert of Lincolnes Inne, my kinsman.
To love, and not to love; it is all one
If you do let the Fair belov'd alone:
And to love once, unless you do love ever,
Is a slight toy, and was an earnest never.
Therefore (to shew you true affection have)
Your Mistrisse wed, and love her to the grave.
8. To Mr. Will. Stanhope the younger my Cousin German.
Why do you live so long a Batchelor?
Is it cause you the femall sex abhor?
Or do you fear women are troublesome,
And therefore loth into their yoke to come?
If such opinions do your minde enthrall,
Marry a wife, and she'l confute them all.
9. Of Quintilla.
Quintilla talkes too much, and why is it?
Because Quintilla hath but little wit:
And at each thing she speakes, she doth laugh after;
A Fool is known by an excess of laughter.
10. To my mother Mrs Anne Cokain.
Let none our Ashbourn discommend henceforth;
Your Gardens shew it is a place of worth.
What delicate Sparagus you have growing there,
And in how great abundance every year?
What gallant Apricocks, and Peaches brave,
And what delicious Nectorins you have?
What Mellons that grow ripe without those Glasses
That are laid over them in other Places?
What Grapes you there have growing? and what wine
(Pleasant to tast) you made last vintage time?
Plant Vines; & (when of Grapes you have got store)
Make wine enough, and I will ask no more:
Then Mr. Bancroft (in high lines) shall tell
The world, your cellar's Aganippe's Well.
The rest are to be made.
Song 1.
1.
I Saw a proud fair Lass to day,
Whose beauties equal those of May:
She is as sweet as flowers new blown;
Much pity she should lie alone.
What would you give to bless your sight
With such an object of delight?
2.
I wondred at her delicate hair,
Mulcibers Net so soft and rare,
T' entangle even the Gods above,
And fill their hearts with gentle love.
What would you give, &c.
3.
I gaz'd upon her beauteous eyes,
Loves exquisitest Palaces:
VVherein as many Cupids be,
As there are men that dare them see▪
VVhat would you give, &c.
4.
Het stately forehead was so fair,
That Iris Arch is no compare:
[Page 149] Match'd onely in lame Vulcans bride,
Unequal'd in the world beside.
What, &c.
5.
Her sweetest Mouth doth far excell
The Delphian certain Oracle:
Tis Loves best musick, all ears charmer,
All hearts enthraller, and blouds warmer.
What, &c.
6.
Her pretty hands I did espy,
Fitter for kisses then an eye:
They were so small, I cannot look
For such again but in a book.
What, &c.
7.
Her bosome, Beauties sweet champain,
The Poets Elizium I do fain.
Not white with snow, but a selecter
Colour, all overstrow'd with Nectar.
What, &c.
8.
The two brave Thrones of beauty, her
Fine admirable Breasts prefer
Before Olympus, or Mount Ide,
Where Iove most happy might abide.
What, &c.
9.
She had her clothes on, and I could
See no more, but to say am bold,
[Page 150] That there was too much beauty under
To be look'd on for love and wonder.
What would you give, &c.
The second Song.
1.
You Ladies fair,
That worthy are
Of all to be beloved,
And yet have hearts
So hard that darts
From eyes have never moved.
2.
You cruel Saints,
That slight complaints,
And scorn to pity any;
I hope to see
The time when ye
Shall be in love with many.
3.
Which when I hear,
Then I will swear
That you are rightly fitted:
And that himself
The little Elfe
On you hath well acquitted.
4.
But do your worst,
I'm not accurst,
My Mistris is no coy one:
[Page 151] For she is kind,
And hath no mind
Within her to destroy one.
The third song, being an answer to O no, I tell thee no.
1.
Away I say, away,
I no longer can delay,
And my heart forbids me stay:
It swears by thy squint eyes,
That could never entice
Foul Porters or Footboyes;
By thy Ruby nose, and lips lilly white,
And thy teeth with yellow dight,
Nere to come, nere to come again in thy sight.
2.
It swears by thy dry'd skin
Thy bosome within,
And thy paps lank, and thin;
And by thy durty golls,
That be to carry coles,
And rake dust out of holes;
By thy beastly form, and thy foul gouty feet,
That can scarce cross a street,
Nere again, nere again thee any where to meet.
3.
By my hatred it swears,
Thy crook-back, and lave-ears,
Thy threescore and odde years,
[Page 152] By thy breath that is
So strong, that (with a kiss)
It would kill a Cockatrice.
By my last farwell, this kicke on thy breech,
And thy old salt Itch,
Nere to see, nere to see thee again thou witch.
The fourth song, being a fictitious Relation.
Let every man beware, for fear of stout Hugh Nunnick,
To speak ill of his Cornwall, or to dispraise Boconnick.
For he's a Cornish Chaugh, and not of it ashamed,
And born was near Boconnick at a place needs not be named.
2.
He hath been very merry all from the mount to Lanston,
Where about many a May-pole, and many a green he hath danc'd on,
At Lestithel, and Bodman, at Truro, and Polmagon
The courteous Lad Polwheel and he have tossed many a Flagon.
3.
He plaid at foils before his Worship Sir Iohn Trelany,
Where on the eyes, and foreheads, and mouthes he hit a many.
[Page 153] There was a cudgel-play not long since at Penwarden▪
Where he did break a Constables head, and the shins of a Churchwarden.
4.
At Foy, he almost lost his eyes with too much laughter,
When he was at the wedding of Pru the Mayors fair daughter.
He was invited to venison, but the Pasty being open,
There nought was in't but Apples, and they but meanly soken.
5.
At Tap-houses he drank Syder with the old Lord Roberts Brewer,
And cuft him ere he parted, for saying he was truer:
Then the Hostesse railed, and said that he was foxed:
She ly'd like a stinking Baggage; he could have drunk an Hogshead.
6.
At Okehampton town old Sherry gave him th [...] staggers,
Where he was so unruly, they lodg'd him among the Beggars.
At Exeter a Chine of beef he had, the first he eat o [...]
And you my friends that hear this song, he swore [...] was a great one.
He spent his money in rambling, and so was fain [...] rook on
Al the way from Salssbury until he came to Okeham
[Page 154] Where he lives very merry; For he is that town Carrier,
And never left his trade but once, to be Grave Maurice Warrier.
The fifth Song.
1.
It is an offence to love, and to love you;
VVou'd I were blind, or you were true.
VVhy should there be a mine of joyes within
Your Body, and to know't a sin?
2.
If I do say I love, I'm sure tis fit,
If I have judgement, or have wit:
For your deserts are wonders that would move
Not onely mine, but any's love.
3.
Some half-soul'd men that cannot tell what tis
To love or hate beyond a kiss;
By seeing you do kindle a strange fire
VVithin them, and your sweets desire.
4.
You need not clothes, nor art, nor with a smile
Hope any mans heart to beguile:
Your Coyness, your Neglects, your Frowns will do
More then all Ladies else that wooe.
5.
Tis not my weakness, but tis your desert,
I am not owner of my heart:
[...]
[...]
5.
Let zealous fasters trudge a foot,
And toile their legs to hear a Lecture,
And there be chok'd with an Hebrew root,
At which the Minister doth conjecture.
We wise, &c.
6.
They that are gluttons, and love meat,
And it had rather be devouring,
The greasy Cook-shops may repleat;
VVhil'st we our full cups are out-pouring.
We wise, &c.
7.
Y'are welcome all unto this place
That fears no Constable or Church-warden:
Here we will sing and drink apace,
And slight the sports of Paris-garden.
We wise
Do them despise;
For we will stay here,
And with whole flaggons baite our own bear.
The eighth song, upon the first expedition into the North under the late King.
1.
Will you hear a song
Shall do no body no wrong,
[Page] And yet was writ at randum
By a friend of mine
Ore a glass of wine,
So great it would make a man dumb.
2.
He wanted no matter,
To have made it a Satyre,
And abus'd all towns-men, and Nobles:
But he thought it unfit
o to wrong his wit,
To bring himself into troubles.
3.
To all his friends
He sends his commends,
And praies them when they are drinking
To forbear to prate
Of matters of State,
And leave them to th' Councels thinking:
4.
Nor to take it in snuff
If a man in buff
Doth come into their chamber;
As if they thought
All Souldiers were naught,
And a contempt was in armour.
5.
Nor when they are drunk
To think of a punk,
[Page 259] For fear of the flux, or sweating;
But away to creep,
And (at home) go sleep,
And leave it a friendly meeting.
6.
He would have them next
Not to be perplext
If their mistress be cruel;
Nor to fight with them
Whom they do esteem;
Lest they be jeer'd for the Duel.
7.
If a man love one,
And her heart be gon,
And plac'd upon another;
Let him do the same
In little Cupids name,
And that will please Loves mother.
8.
Let him that is forth
Going to the north,
Have his health drunk every sitting;
And all good success
Wish'd unto the English,
And all things else befitting.
9.
Let the souldiers obey
What the captains say,
[Page 260] Lest they disgrace their profession;
And save their blows
From their friends for their foes,
And all their angers expression.
10.
Let us fight for our King,
And fame will sing
Of us an endless story;
The Chronicles will tell
That we did well,
And liv'd and dy'd in glory.
The ninth song.
1
O Cupid use thy bow,
Thy deity declare;
Make all fit people know
Thy force that living are.
2
But shoot aright (good boy)
And mutual fire constrain;
For it is tytanny
To make our love in vain.
3
Let Matrons peevish be
Whose lookes time hath decaid:
But let no youthful she
From earth decease a Maid.
4
Let Ethiops froward prove
Whom nature hath made back:
And they thy pleasures love
That no perfections lack.
5.
Make every man love one,
And him his mistress too;
So Hymen shall not moane
For wanting of his due.
6.
The young ones of each sex
Will thereby have content,
And not hereafer vex,
To fast so long a Lent.
The tenth Song.
1.
Curle every hair, smile with your eyes,
And enchant
Any Saint
With the rare musick of your voice:
Show your breast,
Or your best,
Me you no way have to entice.
2.
Dance to sweet numbers, to excel,
Being so quick,
'Rithmetick;
And so most evenly, and so well,
[Page 262] That out wonder
May not number
Those soft steps your feet do tell.
3
Take your sweet Lute (which is the spirit
Of musick)
And use it
Unto your highest praise of merit:
Though each sound
My ears wound,
My heart nereless shall freely bear it.
4.
Were all your clothes so rich and fine,
As you were
In her sphere
Bright Citheraea to out-shine;
Yet they shoo'd
Not my blood
Warm like unto a glass of wine.
5.
In hope to conquer at first sight,
To each part
Add all art:
And to provoke an appetite,
To your will
Joyn your skill;
Yet all your magick I shall slight.
6.
Let you and I together go
In the spring,
When birds sing;
And I'le swear to talk, not wooe:
Or when heat
Makes us get
Into an Arbour, I'le do so.
7.
I cannot be a thrall to her
Who I know
Heart doth ow
To another, and him prefer;
If my suit
Miss the fruit,
I the tree can well abhor.
8.
Yet (Lady) witness all we see,
Tis not I
That deny,
Nor is it you that disagree:
Honour so
Slight you do,
That I in love can never be.
The eleventh Song.
1.
Wherefore should gallants be sad,
And keep house like an owl all day?
Sure they that do so are mad,
Or want money a shot to pay.
[Page] Then let's drink off our pots,
Our glasses and our bowles:
The refusers all are sots,
And men of narrow soules.
Our honest hostess doth sing, our honest hostess doth sing
With a pot of ale
In her hand, that is stale,
Sing hey ding, ding a ding, ding.
2
Leave thinking of London sack,
Of Rhenish, Claret, and White
Such chargeable liquors lack,
And in an Alehouse delight.
If our drink be strong of the malt,
And boyled enough withal,
I wonder who can find fault
With such a good cup of ale.
Our honest hostess doth sing, &c.
3.
If any two be fallen out,
And ready a duel to fight,
Let them drink together a bout,
A whole day or a whole night:
And that will make them friends,
And have no mind to quarrel,
Without their bloods expence;
Such vertue is in a barrel.
Our honest hostess doth sing, &c.
4.
If any man be in love,
And cannot his mistress get,
Let him all business remove,
And go and drink a fit.
Good company, and good drink,
And an house that will reckon right,
Will make a body think
Time spent in love's no delight.
Out honest hostess doth sing, &c.
5.
If a man want money or clothes,
And hath but a friend to pay;
Good liquor will banish his woes,
And make him a merry day:
It Physick is for each grief,
And medicine for all diseases;
The labourers sole relief,
And all his toile appeases.
Our honest hostess doth sing, &c.
6.
A pot of spic't ale and a tost
Is good for a mornings draught;
And meat either boyl'd or rost,
For dinner, if it be salt.
'Twill make ones liquor go down
Without sharking, with delight;
And Gentleman make, or clown,
To sleep without waking all night.
Our honest hostess doth sing, &c.
The twelfth song.
The wenches complaint, Non e maggior tormento.
1.
I can no greater torment find
Then ly with one I cannot love▪
Each minute seems a year confin'd,
So slowly then do minutes move.
When me his hap 's to kiss, or touch,
I with him am offended much.
2.
If he doth chance to me to say,
Can it be possible (my Dear)
You so abstemious are from play
That you (against your will) ly here?
I am enforc'd in complement
To tell him I have much content.
3.
Imagine Ladies, you that know
What a vexation it is,
If from my heart I speak or no,
And do not counterfeit all this:
For when to him I turn my back,
I mouthes at him in hatred make▪
4.
All that enamoured are of me,
VVhom I cannot affect again,
Thus from their passions I do free;
I have no pleasure in their gain:
And (ifthey think I any take)
Tis with their money I it make▪
5.
These four first Stanza's are translated out of Italian; the end in the original omitted as too▪ wanton, and this last added for a conclusion.
Women that are by want opprestAnd therefore yield unto this vice,
Know all the world they do detest
Embraces that are not their choice.
The want of mony is unjust,
To make them subject unto Iust.
The thirteenth song.
William the Conquerour to Emma the Miliners daughter of Manchester.
1.
Hellen of Greece I should despise,
And Cressida unhandsome call;
Poppaea would not please mine eyes,
My Emma so exceeds them all.
When she doth chance to combe her head,
She scatters night upon her face;
Her lovely brown hair being spred,
Those clouds forbid our eagerest gaze.
Envy about her can suppose
No fault at all, but in her clothes.
2.
When her fine hand th' Eclipse removes,
And lets her eyes dart forth their beams,
Our hearts are burned by our loves,
And quenched by our Optick streams.
Lest her sweet eyes, ore-glorious lights,
Should fire on one another reflect,
And burn themselves to endless nights,
Her delicate nose stands to protect.
Envy about, &c.
3.
Her lips themselves in love have kist,
And married were by her sweet tongue;
Her dear heart gave them to the Priest,
And all th' Epithalamium song.
Her even and little teeth all clad
In white, as white as purest snow,
Instead of bridemen wait most glad,
And for the bridemaids likewise go.
Envy about &c.
4.
Her pretty ears this Paradise
Do guard without a Gun or sword;
Vertue commands in chief, and vice
Dares not approch though in a word.
Her neck doth seem the milky way
Unto the Tempe of her breast,
Where two fine hills nipples display,
Like two suns rising east and west.
Envy about &c.
5.
Her lovely hands (when they do stir
Through motion she unto them lends)
Add several graces unto her,
And beauty shake at fingers ends.
These are her glories that we know,
Her envious clothes conceal the rest:
Happy is he that so can woe
As win her to reveal the rest!
Envy about her, &c.
6.
Let fancy work till she be kind;
And lay her on a bed of Roses,
Terra's incognita's to find,
And it a paradise discloses.
Her belly like a bed of creame
Appears unto our curious eyes,
Upon whose top you may esteem
The Navil like a cherry lies.
Envy about her, &c.
7.
Her mountain-thighs we doespy
Cover'd with warm perpetual snow:
Ah what a streight between doth ly,
No Magellan did ever know!
Her neat-made legs forth stretched ly
On sheets resembling a calme Sea,
And (like to Promontories) try
To frame a safe and pleasant Bay.
Envy about her, &c.
8.
Her pretty feet like lands-ends seem,
Whose toes likes Fairies do appear
To tempt beholders to esteem
No beauty such, and t'enter there.
Tis like (fair maid) you yet may boast
That trifle cal'd virginity:
How many joyes you then have lost!
Therefore away with such a toy.
Envy about her, &c.
9.
When you shall gracious be but thus
To meet in groves or amorous beds;
Young Kings and Queens shall envy us,
And we will get new maidenheads:
And when we do refresh awhile,
You like a Princess bride shall rise;
And Art and Nature both shall toyl
To dress you glorious as the skies.
Envy about you shall suppose
No fault, and wonder at your clothes.
The fourteenth song.
Emma's answer to William the Conquerour.
1.
Great conquerour, you do a wrong
Unto your judgement, to compare
Poor Emma (in your amorous song)
To Ladies so renown'd and fair.
The hair that grows upon my head
I have no cause to glory in;
It is as brown as is my bread,
And can (I hope) tempt none to fin.
My clothes are homely as my form,
I wear them but to keep me warm.
9.
My humble eies (when I am up)
To read my office are employ'd,
And unto house-affaires to look,
And not to gaze abroad in pride.
[Page 271] I hope no want on beams they cast
To work to any an unease:
Therefore my nose needs not be plac'd
As Constable to keep the peace.
My clothes are homely, &c.
3.
My lips will serve a country wench,
So also will my northern tongue;
It with my heart agrees in sense,
What I think speaking, and no wrong.
My teeth are like to other girls,
Nor even, nor white, but in the mean:
I know they are but bones, not pearls,
And slut I were, were they not clean.
My clothes are homely, &c.
4.
My ears will serve to do the part
Which nature did designe them for;
The love of vertue's in my heart,
And to hear lewdness I abhor.
I wonder why my neck you praise;
As other maidens are so 's it:
So is my breast, which I adaies
Use to weare cover'd, as is fit.
My clothes are homely, &c.
5.
My hands employ'd in houswifries,
To sow, to spin, or else to card;
Cannot be soft, not being nice,
And 't is no shame to have them hard.
[Page 272] Such is poor Emma, and no better,
VVhom (royal Sir) you so commend:
And I beseech you therefore let her
Her poor life in plain truth to end.
My clothes are homely, &c.
6.
Let not your fancy be unkind
Unto your self, ill thoughts to raise:
My wearied body at night doth find
A bed of flocks or straw alwaies.
My other parts you please to name
Are ordinary as the rest;
And I in truth do blush for shame
To hear them so by you exprest.
My clothes are homely, &c.
7.
I cannot from my tears refrain
To hear you tax virginity:
How many martyr'd virgins reign
In heaven for keeping chastity!
And (in the dark Abyss below)
How many wretched souls do grone,
For slighting here their honour so,
As heathens have far better done!
My clothes are homely, &c.
8.
I hope I never shall become
Ungracious in so a high a wise,
To prostitute to any one
A jewel heaven so much doth prize:
[Page 273] If I (to please my friends) should wed
To any honest neighbours child,
I am resolv'd the marriage-bed
To keep (my life through) undefil'd.
Though me then better clothes transform,
Ile wear them but to keep me warm.
The fifthteenth Song.
1.
Here's a Health to a merry old sinner,
A Glass of strong Aquavitae,
That for a crown and a dinner
Will get you a Wench will delight you.
2.
Because that you are not for Ale,
Here's a Health to a Wench in strong Beer;
Although she (like it) be stale,
She may happen to cost you dear.
3.
Here's a Health in Ale to your Dear,
That lately hath serv'd in the Kitchin;
A bouncing Wastcoteer,
A remedy for your itching.
4.
Here's a Health to the Earls fine daughter,
In Rhenish with Lemmon and Suggar,
Who (with this well ballanc'd) will after
Give liberty to you to hugge her.
5.
Unto the Green-sickness Maid
Here's a Health in sparkling White,
Though yet she be never so staid,
She may alter her mind ere night.
6.
Unto the new married wife,
An Health here is in neat Claret;
Though her spouse lead a jealous Life,
And her tongue out-prattles a Parret,
7.
To the jovial widdow at last,
An health we will drink in Sack▪
Her constitution's in hast,
You may quickly guess what she doth lack.
8.
Now you have so freely drunk
Their healths, and merrily round.
Each of you may go to his Punk,
They are yours a mite to a pound.
9.
Bút now I've thought better on't,
Y'ad best to leave drinking and whoring▪
For virtue hereafter will vaunt,
When vice shall receive a great scowring,
The sixteenth Song, of two lovers.
1.
Two lovers lately that for some years space
Enjoy'd in each others looks an heaven of bliss,
[Page 275] Are parted, and have left their usual gaze,
He on her beauties, and she upon his.
Behold what alterations time can raise
In humane breasts, and setled constancies:
Great Love, we do accuse thee of our crime,
And thank for our recovery onely Time.
2.
As I have seen a crooked river run
Through Meads and moorish grounds in oblique course,
So slighly stealing as no way it won,
And no intention had to leave the source;
And never roar'd at all till it begun
Into another stream to yield its force:
So no dislike her cunning Fashion show'd,
Till all her Favours she from him bestow'd.
3.
Long he her lov'd, and long she lov'd again,
And both did glory in each others heart:
Cupid in each breast kept an equal reign,
A mutual court of joy without all art;
Without dissimulation or disdain,
Without the least offence to either part,
Till a new love possest her yielding mind,
After so long continuing true and kind,
4.
He afterwards retreated (as was fit)
Cal'd home his heart, and quench'd the mighty fire,
With drinking Lethe to his former fit,
That had so long enthral'd him to desire.
[Page 276] And (generous spirit) that hast conquer'd it,
All hail! And welcome to the sacred Quire
Of Freedoms Temple, where bright Truth discovers,
And laughes at all the follies of all Lovers.
The seventeenth Song.
Of a Mistresse.
1.
I love a Lass as fair as ere was seen,
Yet have I never seen if she be fair:
Grandees her suitors have and servants been,
And they that wooe her now great Nobles are▪
How can I therefore think that she will dain
To look on me? I fear I love in vain.
2.
Unto the Beauty which I do so desire
I will make hast, to see how fair she is;
And though I find my betters wooers by her,
I will be bold, and all my thoughts express;
Which when I have done, will she therefore dain
To pity me? I fear I love in vain.
3.
Ile tell her that her hairs are golden Twines
Able t' enamour all the Deities;
And that her eyes are two celestial signes,
More glorious then the twelve within the skies.
When I have told her this, will she then dain
To love me too? I fear I love in vain.
4.
If (when that I have said what I can say,
And made what Protestations I can make)
She will be proud, and coy, and say me Nay,
Though nere so fair, my heart from her Ile take
I will not subject be to her disdain:
The world shall never say I love in vain.
The eighteenth song. Of women.
1.
I wonder why by foul-mouth'd men
Women so slander'd be,
Since it so easily doth appear
Th' are better far then we.
2.
Why are the Graces every one
Pictur'd as women be,
If not to shew that they in Grace
Do more excell then we?
3.
Why are the liberal Sciences
Pictur'd as women be
But t' show (if they would study them)
They'd more excell then we.
4.
And yet the Senses every one,
As men should pictur'd be;
To make it known that women are
Less sensual then we.
5.
Why are the virtues every one
Pictur'd as women be;
If not to shew that they in them,
Do more excell then we?
6.
Since women are so full of worth,
Let them all praised be;
For commendations they deserve
In ampler wise then we.
The nineteenth Song.
You are too proud to love, and are too kind
To hate: what therefore is your mind?
Think you none worthy of you, 'cause you know
That you should be admired so?
And will you not hate, 'cause you would
Not be a maid when you are old?
2.
Though nature hath been liberal in your parts,
And you (for jewels) do wear hearts
If you your self do onely like and love,
You in a wrong sphere for you move.
As you were made to love, beside
So you were made to be enjoy'd.
The twentieth Song. A Ballad of Darbyshire.
1.
Dear Polyhymnie, be
Auspicious unto me,
That I may spread abroad
Our Shires worth in an ode,
Merrily chanting.
They that our Hills do blame,
Have no cause for the same;
Seeing the Muses lye
Upon Parnassus high,
Where no joy's wanting.
2.
Upon Olympus Hill
Hebe Heavens cup doth fill:
And Iove of Candy Isle
Doth the Gods reconcile,
When they do wrangle.
In France at Agincourt
(Where we fought in such sort)
Behind an hill we did
Make our Archers lye hid,
Foes to entangle.
3.
The long commanding Rome,
And old Byzantium,
Lisbon in Portugal,
Are situated all
[Page] Upon Hills strongly:
All therefore that protest
Hilly ground's not the best,
Are of their wits bereav'd,
And all of them deceiv'd,
And censure wrongly.
4.
The Peer of England known
Darby's Earldom to own,
Is honour'd by the style
Of King of Mona's Isle
Hereditary.
Why hath Orantus found
A Channel under ground
VVhere t'lye hid, but for shame
VVhen it hears Darwins name,
VVhich Fame doth carry?
5.
VVhy do the Nymphs (believe)
Of Nile, it down Rocks drive;
Unless it be for fear
Trents glory should go near
To overgo them?
The Spaw Luick Land hath,
And Sommerset the Bath:
Burtons (dear County) be
As famous unto thee
As they unto them.
6.
For King Mausolus Tomb,
Lango's known by each Groom;
And the Campanian Lake
Doth very famous make
Italies confines;
The walls of burned stone
Eternize Babylon:
And the large Devils vault
Doth Darbyshire exalt,
VVherein no sun shines.
7.
The Pike to Tennariff
An high repute doth give;
And the Coloss of brass,
VVhere under ships did pass,
Made Rhodes aspire.
Tunbridge makes Kent renown'd,
And Epsome Surryes Ground:
Pools-hole, and St. Annes VVell
Makes Darbyshire excell
Many a shire.
9.
Here on an Hills side steep
Is Elden hole, so deep,
That no man living knowes
How far it hollow goes;
Worthy the knowing▪
Here also is a Well
Whose Waters do excell
[Page 282] All waters thereabout;
Both being in and out
Ebbing and flowing.
9.
Here's Lead, whereof is made
Bullets for to invade
Them whose pride doth prevail
So far, as to assail
Our Brittish borders.
Our Lead so much may do,
That it may win Peru;
And (if we chance to meet
A Spanish silver Fleet)
Commit great murthers.
10.
Diana's Fane to us
Extolleth Ephesus:
The Sand-hil, and deaf stone,
Do Darbyshire renown,
Worth Admiration.
Windsor Berks doth commend,
And Essex Audley-end:
We of our Chatsworth boast,
A Glory to our coast,
And the whole Nation.
11.
Spain doth vaunt of it's Sack,
And France of Claret crack;
Of Rhenish Germany:
And of thy Ale speak free
My gallant County.
[Page 283] Now I have made an end,
I wish you to commend
Either the Authors wit,
Or me for singing it,
Out of your bounty.
Song 21.
1.
Ah me! I have sinned so,
That the thought of it is my woe;
That my eyes
To the skyes,
Nor my prayer
Neither dare
I to lift, but here mourn below.
What therefore, had I best here to sit,
And lament for my faults in unfit
Sorrow? no;
Who doth so,
Spends his fears,
And his tears
All in vain any mercy to get.
2.
My soul, mount thou then aloft,
And beseech him tha'st angred so oft▪
He easily can
Pardon man,
Being inclin'd
To be kind
With real contrition, and soft.
[Page 284] What though my many foul transgressions do
Exceed all the stars in our view;
Do overcome
Motes it'h Sun,
And surpass
Blades of grass?
His merits do exceed all these too.
3.
His mercies exceed all these,
And all sins wherewith men him displease▪
Every sigh
He did give,
Every wound
That is found
On his body could a world release.
And therefore for shame if not for love,
(Yet love is all fear and shame above)
Let us shun
Hell, and run
In heavens way,
Whiles t'is day;
For from thence is no sad remove.
FINIS.
Dramatis Personae.
- Polidacre An old Lord.
- Philander. His son.
- Carionil. A young Lord. The counterfeit. Negro, and cal'd Tucapelo.
- Falorus. His friend.
- Lorece. A phantastick gallant. His brother.
- Phyginois. Cal'd Draculemion.
- Iaques. An old simple daughter of Vandonae's.
- Servants.
- Maskers.
- Rosinda. Polidare his wife, cal'd Tandorix.
- Lucora. The obstinate Lady her daughter.
- Cleanthe. Her sister cal'd Anclethe.
- Vandona. A young rich widow.
- Antiphila. A fine young Lady.
- Nentis. Lucora's Woman, Vandone's sister.
The Prologue.
BRave crown of Gallants welcome! May this place
Meet expectation; you afford us grace:
We joy that such a multitude divine
Of Planets in our little Spheres do shine;
And that besides our Horizon is stuck
With lesser lights, we do esteem't good luck.
For the great favour, may each several scene
Affect you more, then Hebe's Nectar Heaven.
We can but wish't: for if y'are come to day
In expectation of a faultless play,
Writ by learn'd Johnson, or some able pen,
Fam'd, and approv'd of by the world, you then
We disappoint: our Poet had never yet
Hisses condemn, or hands commend his wit.
Troth, Gentlemen, we know that now a daies
Some come to take up wenches at our plaies;
It is not our designe to please their sence,
We wish they may go discontented hence.
And many Gallants hither come (we think)
To sleep, and to digest their too much drink:
We may please them; for we will not molest,
With drums or trumpets, any of their rest.
If perfum'd wantons do for eighteen pence,
Expect an Angel, and alone go hence,
We shall be glad withall our hearts, for we
Had rather have their room then company:
[Page 292] For many an honest gentleman is gone
Away for want of place, as look ye you:
We guess some of you Ladies hither come
To meet your servants wh' are at dice at home;
You'l be deceiv'd, and therefore will dispraise,
And say this is the worst of all the plaies
You ever saw: but keep your censures (pray)
Until you meet them here another day.
Our Poet is not confident, nor doth
Distrust his work, but labours 'twixt them both:
He hopes it will be lik'd, and well; if not,
'T can be but hiss'd at worst, and soon forgot▪
Actus primi Scena prima.
Enter Carionil, and Falorus.
Fal.
SHe has out-gone my belief by't,
I did not think that project would have fail'd;
I cannot speak her.
Car.
The Alpian snow is not more cold.
Fal.
Her disposition is most strange.
Car.
'Twere easier far
To spurn the soultry Cyclops Anvil down,
And kick it thus into Atomes in the air,
Then to obtain her love;
It were, my dear Falorus.
Fal.
O think not so Carionil.
Car.
Have I not cause?
Fal.
At last after a constant and a brave pursuit
She may be won.
Car.
Could I but hope so much,
Did all the stars malignant influences
Threaten fate opposite to my happiness,
[Page 294] I would not deem them worthy my observance,
But persevere till I obtain'd, or fell.
Fal.
Conjecture still the best.
Car.
Tis easier to advise then to perform;
Had you, Falorus, been so oft dismist
Comfortless, scornfully sent away,
By her own lips, (O heavens!) you could not think it.
Fal.
I could and would.
Car.
With hope friend?
Fal.
Yes with an assurance.
Car.
Upon what ground would you build it?
Fal.
Upon a womans frequent dissimulation.
Can you believe, when envious clouds deprive
Your eyes from the suns beams, that it shines not?
In these times young Ladies for a while
Do mantle their affections in dislike:
Let not an ignorance of Virgins wiles
Disturb your noble breast with weak despaire;
Carionil assume a confidence,
Were you inferiour unto her in blood,
Or any whit deform'd, after her nayes
You might suspect the period▪ but seeing
'Tis known, as noble blood runs through your veins,
And that nature compos'd you in a mould
As excellent as she was form'd in, and
With substance of as beauteous a gloss;
You need not let doubts puzzle you.
Car.
Stay and admire with me; exalt your eyes to happiness.
Fal.
Your Mistress and her Woman, my Carionil.
Car.
Lucora, She's a transcendent of Epithets.
Fal.
I see a Lute: let us escape their sight,
And it is likely we shall hear her sing.
Lucora.
Now give it me. Is it in tune?
Nen.
Yes Madam.
Car.
Forbear awhile to play upon the spheres,
Ye servants to the Deities: the Gods
Will blame you, if your musick keep the ayr
Of her all-ravishing harmony from their eares.
A song.
1.
Sweet Diana, vertuous Queen,
By heavens edict Guide of night,
That dost affect the medows green,
And dost in fresh-leav'd woods delight;
Like to thy Nymphs, suffer me
To consecrate my self to thee.
2.
Thou that for lust diddest transform
Rash Actaeon to a Hart;
Either most strongly Maidens charm,
That men may never them divert
[Page 296] From purity, or else make
Them other Harts for virgins sake.
Car.
How! a votress to Diana,
The heavens forbid that injury to earth.
Had the deceitful Syrens such a voice,
And bodies of so rare a form, I would
Nere come on shipboard, for fear of being drawn
To drown my self by swimming after them.
Nen.
I do not like her Madam.
Luco.
Who ever yet spoke ill of Daphne? fie!
Banish such impious censures from you.
Nen.
Troth, Madam, I should have been glad to a been my Lady Apollo.
Luco.
O rellish more of purity Nentis. Alas, 'tis a fraile comfort can come with a husband.
Nen.
I think otherwise indeed Madam.
Luco.
Be all such thoughts remote from my breast,
My resolution shall be never to marry.
Exeunt.
Car.
Now you have heard her thoughts Falorus.
Fal.
That she disguises not her love you mean.
Car.
True, and I am most miserable.
Fal.
My happy friend you will be.
Tis an ignorant common custome among young ones to do so.
Car.
But she's a fixed star, and cannot move.
Fal.
Fixed in your heart tis likely,
But otherwise I doubt, nor do you.
Car.
[Page 297]Y'ave s [...]ird a feeble belief within me, Friend,
That the excellent Lucora may be won,
And I will nourish it unto some height.
Fal.
A necessary that none must want, which do
Desire fruition of those whom they wooe.
Enter Jaques.
Car.
O honest Iaques!
Iaq.
My Lady presents her service to your Lordship.
Car.
She is in health I hope.
Iaq.
Very well. And I am glad to see your Honour so, though I say it.
Car.
She is not towards another husband yet?
Iaq.
No certainly.
Car.
Methinks her fortunes should give her a various choice. You are elsewhere employed I perceive: remember my best respects unto your Lady.
Exit Iaques.
Y'ave heard of my cousin Vandona, Falorus?
Fal.
But very little.
Car.
She's the most phantastick piece of womankind I ere chang'd breath with, but a young one, wealthy, and truly not unhandsome.
Fal.
Lorece does intend to make love unto her.
Car.
Your brother, my Falorus?
Fal.
Yes, so he told me.
Car.
May he obtain her if you wish it.
Fal.
Her estate would make the match a good one.
[Page 298] Enter Cleanthe.
Is this the boy you so commended to me?
Car.
'Tis he, and think him you worthy the praise I gave him.
Clean.
He'l come and wait upon you at night, my Lord.
Car.
'Tis well Anclethe.
Fal.
You spoke him not unto his merits.
Car.
You are beholding to my friend (Ancleth.)
Enter a Page.
Fal.
Your Lord's in health?
Page
And desires to speak with your Lordship,
Fal.
Where may I find him?
Pag.
He'l be at his lodgings these two houres.
Fal.
I'le wait upon him presently.
Exit Page.
I am his servant. Carionil, I must take my leave.
Car.
The Gods go with you. He may be my father in law, but will not if he can prevent it: Adieu friend.
Exit Falorus.
O my Anclethe! thou canst not guess the world of torments I nourish here; I cannot number them my self, and because I cannot, I fear the Gods will not.
Clean.
What can you ail my Lord?
Car.
Canst thou imagine me free from misery?
Clea.
Indeed I did.
Car.
No, there's a Lady (she's above all Ladies,
And were she pitiful, I should swear a goddess)
That does deny me happiness.
[Page 299] As thou hast me, Idalian Archer, so
On her use thy eternal stringed bow:
Draw to the head thy shaft, and let it fly;
For love but love there is no remedy.
Exit Car.
Clean.
Wretched Cleanthe! to what a multitude
Of woful sighes my destinies have driven me!
Could all the tears that I abundantly have wept,
But find that recompence I dare not look for,
O they were showers to be belov'd like those
That deck the spring with bravery! Carionil
(For whom I languish in disguise) it seems
Hath setled his affections on a Lady
Does not return him love. May she continue
Obstinate ever: but I must blame her judgement,
Who can behold a man (with all the art
Of nature) fram'd to curiosity,
And heare the world report his vertues equal
Unto his form, and not admire and love him.
Enter Lorece.
Lore.
Now my young sweet face! what pretty foolish whimsies trouble thy pate, that thou lookest so composedly?
Clea.
Sir, I am as I use to be.
Lore.
Then you use to be scurvy. Use the Tavern once or twice a day. You must not be so melancholy.
Clean.
It best becomes me.
Lore.
Canst thou swear?
Clean.
The Gods forbid.
Lore.
[Page 300]Canst thou sing.
Clean.
Not worth your hearing Sir.
Lore.
Say'st thou so! Then will I something worth thine.
1.
Of six shilling beer I care not to hear,
A barrel's not worth a carret,
I as others think, that there is no drink
Like unto Sack, White wine, and Claret.
2.
Diana's a fool, and me shall not rule
To live a bacheller ever;
For I mean not to tarry, in her livery, but marry,
And quickly, believe me, or never.
3.
And I and my wife will lead such a life,
As she shall think well befel her;
For throughout the year we'l tipple March-beer▪
And seldome be out of the Cellar.
4.
All Sto [...]ical prate, and Diana I hate,
With her maidenly scurvy advices:
Green sickness upon her, sweet Venus I honour;
For wenches and wine are not vices.
5.
Woo'd Baceus the knave had met with this brave
Diana, this whey-blooded Lady;
For the credit of 'th grape he had made a rape,
And got a puissant babie.
Cle.
[Page 301]Y' are not melancholy Sir, your brother is more solemn.
Core.
I melancholy! I scorne it boy. Yet I'me not so merry as I was wont, the young gunner Mr. Cupid had somewhat tam'd me: but I am good mettle still (thank my jovial fates) and will sound melodiously, my young Paris.
Enter Jaques.
Welcome to Hercules noble Theseus. Good boy,
Go wait on thy master.
Exit Cleanthe.
How do'st, thou old magazine of precious knavery?
Iaq.
I am glad to see your Worship well.
Lore.
My noble milner of words, thou that dost grind thy speeches with a merry pronunciation, wilt be my bosome, my cabinet, my friend Iaques?
Iaq.
I will obey your good Worship.
Lore.
Liberally spoken! when I have opened me, will you be privy?
Iaq.
Very secret and officious: it is good manners in me, your command shall wedge my tongue, hedge my heart, and tye a true lovers knot upon it with the strings of it.
Lore.
Thou art an honest clod of earth, Iaques.
Tis pity the malicious sun-shine warm'd thee not into a diamond.
Iaques.
Your Worship speakes above my brains.
Lore.
I am marvellously enamour'd on your Lady, Iaques. Vandona is my Mistris.
Iaq.
Wonderful news! Is my Lady your Worships sweet-heart?
Lore.
[Page 302]Yes. But ignorant of my affection yet.
Iaq.
I could be drunk were you my Master, Sir.
Lore.
I would have a Wine-cellar o'th purpose. My estate Iaques is but mean: It must be craft must get her: Knowest thou any possible way to win her?
Iaq.
Sir, I am passing empty of invention, but wherein I can pleasure you, tell me at any time, and I will not fail you. But the Gods bless your good Worship: Sir, would you marry her?
Lore.
Yes my old trusty Perithous. Why dost wonder at it?
Iaq.
She does nothing all day but read little Comedies, and every night spendstwo or three hours on a great Tragedy of a merry fellow Dametas, and a company of strange-nam'd learned Lovers, she's no more houswife then you or I Sir, on my own proper knowledge, I swear, vow and protest it.
Lore.
Thou art too earnest my old-fac'd Saturn, I think her not the worse woman. Houswifery is the superficies of a genteel female, and the Parenthesis of a Lady, which may well be left out.
Iaq.
You are a Scholar, your bookship shall direct me.
Enter Phyginois.
Lore.
Who's that? knowest thou him Iaques? He walkes corantoly, and looks big.
Iaq.
And like your Worship, this tide first brought him to my eyes.
Lore.
[Page 303]He came not by water, did he old Boy?
Iaq.
I meant Time Sir, the London word.
Phy.
When we this passion into us receive,
Our former pleasures we do loath and abandon▪
Iaq.
Leave, by your leave.
Phy.
If it were foolishness in us to take
Affection, why did heaven two sexes compose?
Iaq.
Make, would make Rhime.
Phy.
Why Period to the Phoenix doth fire give,
But because it doth against nature consist?
Iaq.
Live, he should say. This is some very smal Poet.
Phy.
Ile on, and am resolved to preferre
My life to be a service unto her.
Lore.
What an affected utterance has this fellow!
Iaq.
He'l nere make good Ballad warrant him, that will not rhime when he may.
Lore.
The Catastrophe was in [...]hime though. He would be lik'd for a stage Poet.
Phy.
Noble Heroes! the Gods intend your fortunes to your thoughts.
Lore.
An Academical Idiome: enquire his name Iaques, he delivers his mind after the garb of a Signior.
Iaq.
Have you a name friend?
Phy.
I answer to Draculemyon.
Iaq.
Good Sir, let's trudge hence; this is some great Conjurer.
Lore.
Are you a Necromancer?
Iaq.
Mr. Lorece, I fear he is some Saracen, he looks so dismal.
Lore.
[Page 304]Art thou a Panim, speak?
Iaq.
For all your great looks Termegant is an Idol.
Phy.
I am nor one nor other, but your Honours vassall, and a poor Englishman. Wilt please you to hear the Musick of Helicon?
Iaq.
Law you now Sir, how one may be deceiv'd! I believe the whorson is a Fidler. Can you sing (sirra?) answer me.
Phy.
I am no Fidler; but live by my tongue and legs: will you hear me (noble Sir) speak a Parnassian Oration, or see me measure the ground with a dance?
Lore.
What saiest thou Iaques?
Iaq.
Why now Sir, tis dinner time with my Lady, and I dare not neglect her, neither will I my own stomach, and therefore for me he may shew us a fair pair of heels, and be gone.
Lor.
Well then—spend this for me.
Phy.
Y'are, Sir, the best part of a moralist: you are most liberal.
Lor.
Come Iaques.
Iaq.
I follow you Sir, farewell goodman Draculemyon.
Phy.
The Gods bless me, there's a name!
Exeunt.
Proceed Phyginois, and be fortunate;
This project will furnish me with mony to cloth me
Both fashionably and rich enough, and then
I dare assail my Nentis with some confidence:
Politick Lovers seldom miss.
Smile heaven upon my plot, that there may be
[Page] A crowned Period to my policy.
Exit.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Polidacre and Falorus.
Pol.
HOw do you like Lucora?
Fal.
She's a Lady above my thoughts, much more my tongue.
Pol.
Could not you wish her yours? I have a desire to make her so.
Fal.
Ambrosia Hebe's Cates are for the Gods:
Princes she doth deserve to wooe her love.
Pol.
You undervalue her my Lord;
The best is not too good for him that gets her.
Your breeding has been worthy your descent;
I've known you from your Infancy, and am
Desirous to make you mine.
Fal.
He enforceth me to an acceptance. I must temporize with him,
Most worthy Polidacre, I cannot attain to a greater happiness on earth, then to bear the name of your Son in law.
Pol.
I thank thee my Falorus. Ile go presently, & get my daughters consent. As you shall not want beauty with her, so you shall not money. Ile take my leave.
Fal.
I am your most humble servant, my Lord.
Exit Pol.
VVhat envious Star when I was born, divin'd
This adverse Fate, who having such a beauty
Profer'd him, would refuse it? The pin'd man
VVhom Poets phantasies have plac'd in Hell
VVith fruit before him, had not such a cross.
[Page 306] The true regard I bear unto my friend.
The brave Carionil must not be slighted;
The sacred truth of friendship ever shoo'd
By force enfeeble all rebellious blood.
Enter Carionil.
VVell met my dear Carionil.
Car.
I am happy in your company: y'are my hearts best treasury, Falorus.
Enter Lucora and Nentis.
But give me leave my friend.
Fal.
O! I see the cause; your Mistris.
Car.
Retire ye Clouds, and weep out showers of woe,
Because ye may no longer stand and gaze
On her, for whom the heavens their circuits go,
That they may see, and wonder at her face.
Dear Falorus withdraw your self awhile.
Fal.
The Gods assist your suit.
Car.
Thanks worthy friend.
He withdraws.
Hail natures most perfect work, and the continual Idea of my admiring Soul, for whom (if it be your will) I must dye, and by whom (if it is your pleasure) I shall live, live in an unspeakable felicity by enjoying you, who shall dye happily for wanting you, and I cannot live in such a penury.
Nen.
VVoo'd I had such a servant: I should not serve him scurvily.
Car.
Honour your poor adorer, Lady, with a gracious look of your beloved eyes, and my misery for [Page 307] you, both with commiseration and remedy.
Luco.
My Lord, if you presume upon a womans
Feign'd carriage to her wooers, leave it now.
For (if you'l give me leave) I'le call to witness
Every particular Deity we adore,
That I will never have a husband: and
For your saying you must dye for me, I hold it
A common Complement of idle Lovers;
And wish you so much happiness, that you
May live well without me.
Cario.
O be not so unmerciful!
Let not that tongue erre into virulent words,
VVhich could have cal'd Euridice from Hell.
Had your most excellent mother (fairest Lady)
Inexorable been, you had not been,
Nor Crimson Roses ever spread upon
Your lovely cheeks, nor had the world discover'd
Two Planets more: hath nature liberally
Heaped the rarest perfections (she could give
Mortality) upon you to no end?
No surely, not can I believe that she
Ment to enclose a mind infractible
Within a body so powerful to subdue.
As you (even your dear self) was daughter to
A beauteous mother, so you also should
Indebt the world unto you by your issue:
Be not so cruel therefore (dear Lucora)
Let not your tongue degenerate from your form.
Luco.
Sir, you have heard me speak what I intend.
Car.
Be not a Tygres Lady.
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
Luc.
[Page 308]Any thing but a wife:
Sir, I must leave you, and leave you this humour;
The Court hath many Ladies, take your choice.
Nentis!
Nen.
Mad am
Luc.
Come my Lord take my counsel.
Nen.
I could use him kindlyer.
Car.
What say you Lady?
Nen.
Nothing my Lord.
Exeunt Luco. Nent.
Car.
Doth a fair face presage a cruel heart?
I'st not a meer full contrary in Nature,
That the softest body should be hard'st to win?
Nature is grown decrepit, and all things
Sublunary erre against her rule of order.
Stir not then thou glorious Fabrick of the heavens,
And periodize the Musick of the spheres.
Thou ever yet fast fixed Globe of earth,
Whirl round in a perpetual Motion.
Ye Stars and Moon that beautifie the night,
Change rule with clear Hyperion, and so cast
Succeeding time into another mould.
Then with thy powerful beams, Apollo, draw
The Ocean into clouds, and drown the world:
So there a new creation may befall,
And this life be a life celestial.
Enter Falorus.
O all my happiness on earth, my true Falorus!
Lucoraes beauty triumphs in my breast,
And shortly will destroy me: There's no beast
That haunts the vastest Affrican wilderness,
[Page 309] Of such a merciless constitution.
She'l never marry man.
Fal.
She will Carionil. Her father would have her, and she has not so much evil to contradict his will: where then can she make such a choice as you? that in a duel, your Grandfather did kill hers, y'v e heard her oft protest she valued not.
Car.
Does he desire it, or does your love flatter me into a little possibility of obtaining her? Alas, if she could like me, her father would very difficultly consent. He loves not my family.
Fal.
Polidacre could not hinder you, were she willing. But (friend) her father means to marry her. His own lips offer'd her to me.
Car.
O ye just heavenly powers! then I am lost,
Sunk into misery beneath a spark
Of this lives happiness.
Falorus, you shall not have her.
Fal.
I would not wrong my noble friend so much.
Car.
A puff of wind and gone. For her who would not
Do all mankind an injury, and out-act
In horrid deeds all those that ere profess'd
Licentious Atheisme? unsheath your sword;
I will not take that life basely away
Which next unto Lucoraes I esteem,
Yet stay.
Fal.
He's frantick! withdraw this frensie O ye Gods.
Car.
You are my friend?
Fal.
I have been so accounted by you.
Car.
Let me consult it out, shall one word.
[Page 310] Na (which is less) one sillable (friend extract
Out of me all the interest that I
Have to Lucora, by affecting her:
But this is a safe medium, a true friend
Exceeds all words, and syllables at height;
A man may, nay he should poize equally
His love, and part unto his friend the justice of it,
Which is the full half; so that it appears
They should be lov'd by's as we love our selves.
But to a Mistress who would not give more?
Who can choose to give more? the love that we
Bear to a friend, it is an accident, a meer one:
But tis our nature to affect a woman,
And 'tis a glory to preserve a Mistress
Entire to ones self without competit ors.
My reason's satisfi'd: no friendship can
Keep in the sword of any rival'd man.
Fal.
Collect your self Carionil.
Car.
You'l fight with me?
Fal.
I do not wear a weapon for such a Quarrel.
Car.
What more affliction! yet tis against manhood,
(A most ignoble murther) to take his life
Who makes no opposition. And yet if death
Prevent him not she will be his. Sad fates!
You shall not have Lucora.
Fal.
You wrong our amity by this suspicion:
I swear I will not.
Car.
How!
Fal.
Consider (dear Carionil) I grieve
To see my friend so over-passionate,
[Page 311] It is a weakness in you to be pittied.
Car.
My love ore-sway'd my reason: pardon me
My best Falorus, I believe your vertue
Would not act such an injury against
Your own Carionil.
Fal.
Shall we walk? and I'le tell you all that pass'd
'Twixt me and Polidare.
Car.
I am a thousand waies obliged yours.
Fal.
You are my Carionil, I wish no more
From you then a perpetuity of love,
And that our hearts may never be unti'd.
Car.
You are too worthy for my friendship.
Exunt.
Scena tertia.
Enter Antiphila sola reading.
Fair Antiphila hath hair
Would grace the Paphian Queen to weare;
Fit to tune Heavens Lute withall,
When the Gods for musick call;
Fit to make a vail to hide
Aurora's blush each morning tide;
Fit to compose a crafty gin
To take the hearts of lookers in;
Able to make the stubborn kind,
And (who dislike it) t'be judg'd blind:
Though it is soft and fine, it ties
My heart, that it in fetters lies.
It is a great I know not what. I have not Poetry enough in me to give it a name. These Lovers [Page 312] are the prettiest fooles (I think) in the world. And t'were not for them I cannot tell what we women should do. We desire nothing more then to be praised, and their love to us will do it beyond our wishes. I gave Philander upon his long importunity a lock of hair, and see into what a vein it has put him! I'me sorry he had it not a week sooner, I should then perhaps a had a Sonnet-book ere this: 'tis pitty wit should lie obscurely in any, if a lock will give it vent. I love him not; I shood rather choose his father, who is as earnest a suitor to me as he: yet I know, because of his age, very few Ladies wood be of my mind; but as yet I care for neither of them.
Enter Philander.
Now I must expect an assault, 'tis in's ear already, he's very fine.
Phi.
My dear Anniphila, you have receiv'd.
Anti.
Your verses (Sir?) I have.
Phi.
I am your true adorer for them Lady.
Wood your white hand had done me the honour it did them!
Anti.
In what Sir you must explain.
Phi.
That a touch of your skin might have ravish'd me into happiness.
Anti.
The Lock has alter'd your discourse, I wood it had shut your mouth.
Phil.
Ther's no need of that (excellent Antiphila) I wood rather deprive my self of my tongue, then that any word of mine should be offensive unto you
Anti.
[Page 313]You relish too much of the Court.
Phi.
Polite words can never misbecome a speaker who hath such a subject.
Anti.
Am I your subject? you have cal'd me Mistress.
Phi.
You are my Saint Lady, and I must pray to you.
Anti.
Saints hear no prayers some say.
Phi.
Pray you shew otherwaies by granting mine.
Anti.
Have you any more papers?
Phi.
My mouth shall speak mine own errand.
Anti.
You must pardon me now Sir, I must leave you.
Exit Antiphila.
Phi.
She yet is obstinate: but I am free
From doubt she will continue in that way;
There is no cause of fears in womens nayes,
For none of that sex means the thing she saies.
Enter Rosinda.
Now Tandorix! where's my father?
Ros.
Faith I know not Sir.
Phi.
You are one of the melancholiest servants he keeps.
Ros.
It pleases you to say so Sir.
Phi.
They all report so of you.
Ros.
I cannot tell Sir.
Phi.
Y'are overlonely: be merrier, you shood put your self into more companie, you should Tandorix; I respect you for my mothers sake, for whose last sad letter you was entertained here.
Ros.
I thank you (Sir) for your kindness.
Phy.
[Page 314]Farwel Tandorix.
Exit Phy▪
Ros.
My son perceives my sadness, but the cause
Deserves it fully; tis now above a year
Since I did write that I did drown my self,
And bare the Paper to my husband, when
I thought his memorie was somewhat lost,
And I inur'd unto this habit, drawn
To't by a fond desire to know if he
Would keep his promise to me, with which oathes
He oft hath made, that never (if he should
Survive me) he would take another wife;
But he (as other men) esteems no more
Of perjury then common breath; 'twere fit
That husbands vows upon the sands were writ.
Exit.
Finis Actus primi.
Actus secundi Scena prima.
Enter Lorece and Jaques.
Lor.
I Am beholding to thee Iaques.
Iaq.
I will be dutiful to your Worship.
Lor.
I should be glad to cope with your Lady, now methinks I am of a prompter expression then usual: Lovers and the Muses are cater-cousins.
Enter Vandona.
My Vandona, Iaques.
Iaq.
I must vanish like a mist.
Exit.
Lor.
Farewell grave Titan.
Ile out with a Poetical Soliloquie in her hearing for my Preludium.
The gaudy Stars are not more full of glee,
When golden Phebus setteth in the West;
Nor do the cheerful Birds with more delight
Rejoyce at the new Livery of the spring;
Then I to have this miracle of beauty
Enter within the knowledge of miue eyes.
Van.
He speaks well, I woo'd he meant earnest. The Gentleman seems very deserving: but he is something wild.
Lor.
She shall be stoutly accosted. Impudency is a very happy quality in a wooer.
Van.
A comes.
Lor.
Lady, you are not a puny in the Court of Cupid, [Page 316] and therefore (I hope) need not the tedious circumstances of an annual service. I am bold to tell you plainly, I love you, and (if I find occasion) I will maintain it boldly.
Van.
I pray you (Mr. Lorece) desist.
Lor.
Never my sweet Vandona; my descent (I know) you doubt not, and my affection you need not. Whilest I live I shall love you, and (if you die) your memory.
Van.
I shall be catch'd. We widows are glass mettal, soon broke.
Lor.
I can do no more Lady, and I will do no less.
Van.
Your habit, carriage, and discourse, Sir, shew you a Traveller.
Lor.
My boldness she means. Sweetest Vandona, I have been one. The habits, conditions, and situations of many great kingdoms I have exactly gathered into my table-books: and also my fortnights observation of the Antipodes.
Van.
O strange! have you been there? I wonder how you came thither.
Lor.
I will tell you Lady. When I was bound thither, I was in Asia at Taxcallau; there we took ship, and in a pair of Oares sailed to Madrid, the Catholique Kings Court. From thence to Naples in Savoy, from Naples to Crenia, and thence to Alexandria, where against a tree we suffered shipwrack. Into a new Phaluk therefore we got us, which was rigg'd for Francfort, where shortly after we arrived, victual'd our Gondalo, and threw [Page 317] away our fresh water.
Van.
Tis a great way thither.
Lor.
Thence we went to Lisbon, and after to Mantua, and the next morning we came to the Antipodes, at twy-light i'th afternoon.
Van.
What sights saw you there Sir?
Lor.
So many sights (dear Lady) that they almost made me blind.
Van.
Relate a few.
Lor.
First, Lady, the King is no man.
Van.
I believe you Sir, for it never could enter my mind that any man inhabited there.
Lor.
There they have no houses, but the Emperours Palace, where Sir Francis Drake was entertain'd, after he had shot the Pyraenaean Gulfe, upon the Mediterranean mount in Russia.
Van.
Where then lies all the Court, I wonder?
Lor.
In the Court Mistris.
Van.
I guess hem but cold lodgings.
Lor.
Your Ladyship is mistook: they are never a cold; For the Sun, being never above a hundred degrees above Saturn, makes that Climate as hot as Norway. They at the Antipodes hear with their noses, smell with their ears, see by feeling, but taste with all their Senses: for they are the most insatiable gluttons under the cope: and feel not any thing;
For they cannot be hurt.
Van.
This is wonderful. And I cannot imagine how their senses can be so contrary to ours.
Lor.
[Page]No! did you never hear (excellent Vandona) that they are opposite to us?
Van.
O yes! I have indeed.
Lor.
I will now tell you Madam something of the South Indies.
Van.
Has not the Mogul of Persia his bread thence?
Lor.
The King of Spain hath his gold there, of which the Hollanders took a great prize, when they won the silver Fleet.
Van.
How I was mistook!
Lor.
I will give you the situation of the Countrey. Some of the ancient Geographers, as Heliodorus, the Knight o'th Sun, Amadis de Guale, and Palmerin de Oliva, affirm it to lie a thousand Italian miles from the Isthmos of Corinth [...] but some modern writers, as Don Quixot, Parismus, Montelion, and Mervin, say it is a Peninsula in Arabia Foelix, where the Phoenix is. But learned Hollinshed affirms, the South Indies are separated from Armenia by the Calidonean Forrest, from Asia Minor by the Venetian Gulfe, and from China by a great brick wall. There instead of Chery-stones children play with Pearls: and (for glass) the windows are of broad Diamonds. Hunters there have no horns but the Unicorns; no water runs there but Scamander, Simois, Aganippe, Hippocrene, and the like. There are no hills but Olympus, Ida, and Parnassus. No valley but Tempe of Ascra and Margiana; no men but of the off-spring of Scipio Affrican, Iulius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Hector, [Page 319] Hanibal and Hercules.
Van.
It is a pleasant Countrey sure!
Lor.
I will now tell you the conditions of our neighbour Nations. The Spaniards are humble, the Italians chast, the French peaceful, the Dutch sober, and the Irish cleanly. I came at last to Virginia, where I saw nothing more worthy mention then an honest woman who cast her self into the sea because no body would lie with her. In conclusion; at Iames Town Port I took horse, and the next morning (after a long and tedious journey) arrived in Wales.
Van.
And what did you there Mr. Lorece?
Lor.
As soon as I could I went to Merlins Cave, which is obscurely situated on the top of a Beech, where all the night he lay on the ground.
Van.
What was he Sir?
Lor.
He was an intricate Prognosticator of firmamental Eclipses, and vaticinated future Occurrents by the mysterious influences of the sublime Stars, and vagabundical Planets; generated he was by the inhumane conjunction of an Incubus; And was immur'd alive in a cave, by the preeminent Magick of the Lady of the Lake.
Van.
You frequent Playes, do you not?
Lor.
They are most commonly my afternoons employment.
Van.
I like him the better for it.
—Aside.
Van.
And you have read many Histories?
Lor.
Many, Lady. I am a worm in a book, I go through them.
Van.
[Page 320]This pleases me too
— aside.
Farewel Sir.
Lore.
Admired Philoclea, leave me not so.
Van.
What would you have?
Lore.
Your consent Lady.
Van.
Expect that a month or two hence.
Lore.
Dear Vandona, sweet Mistress!
Van.
Indeed you must.
Lore.
Nay, sweet Oriana.
Van.
Y'are two importunate.
Lore.
Excellent Claridiana, Polinarda, Taurana, Bradamant.
Exit Van.
It makes no matter, I am sure to have her: how some women are taken with strange tales!
Next time we meet I do not doubt to get her,
Hercules could not wooe a Lady better.
Ent. Iaques.
Now my old Anchises! how dost true penny! Be merry Iaques.
Iaq.
Is she tender-hearted?
Lor.
Respectful and pliant.
Iaq.
Good truth I am glad on't Sir; my Lady (though I say it) is of a very good nature, my mind alwaies gave me she would be coming on.
I beseech your Worship to be a good Master to me.
Lore.
Thou shalt find me so.
Exuent.
Scena secunda.
Enter Cleanthe sola.
Cle.
IMperious Love (that hatest whom thou woundest, and lovest those best thou dost let alone)
If my obsequious duty unto thee
Can move thee to commiseration,
Instruct me how to win him, and (when I
Disclose my self) assist a wretched woman;
For it is in thy power to work my bliss.
He dotes upon a Lady that regards
None of those miseries he undergoes
By languishing for her, with one fair stroke
Thy ignominy redeem: thou art cal'd blind,
Because how thou dost shoot thou dost not mind.
But what availes it me thus to implore,
Or rather to reiterate those deep wishes,
Millions of houres can witness I have say'd,
And yet find no help? Ah my dear, and ever
Most lov'd Carionil, would thou wert so
Strongly inflam'd as I, or didst conceive,
Truly didst know, what misery lies here!
I think (though thou hadst suckt a ravenous Wolf)
It would overcome thy nature, and thereby
Transform my sorrow to felicity.
Enter Carionil.
Car.
I cannot hope, a letter I have writ
[Page 322] To my Lucora, can find that acceptance,
And bring so good success I wish it may:
Sure never man so passionately ado'rd
A Lady of so froward a disposition;
If I could know the cause she is unkind
I would destroy it, or destroy my self.
Anclethe! art thou there my boy? alas!
Why dost thou weep?
Clea.
To see the sorrow you are alwaies in,
And not to know wherefore. Though I(Sir)am
Both young and little, I both dare, and would
Venter my life to do your any service
That may redeem you happy daies again.
Car.
Alas poor boy! it is past thy redress;
Yet I do thank thee for thy love unto me.
Enter Rosinda.
Cle.
My Lord, a servant of my Lord Polidacres.
Car.
Tandorix! what news?
Ros.
The Lady Lucora commanded me to deliver this Paper to you.
Car.
Tis most welcome, would my heart could read it.
Ros.
I wish he had my daughter: for he's a noble gentleman.
Aside.
My Lord, command you me any service?
Car.
Onely my dear respects unto the Lady that sent you.
Ros.
Farewel Anclethe.
Exit Rosinda.
Car.
[Page 323]The Letter.
SIR,
I am sorry that (against my use) I cannot answer you more civilly; but I am blameless: The fault being in your foolish passion, and not my desire. If in fairer terms you should receive my reply, I am sure you would think it some beginning of love to you; according to your desire I have none, and I wish your love was so as mine, so we might be friends: yet I love you as a Gentleman of my acquaintance; but if any more you rouble me with letters or courting, I will hate you. So I end,
Her own, Lucora.
[...]er own Lucora! I cannot now conceive
This Lady of a humane nature, sure
A woman cannot have so harsh a mind,
So I end! what will she end so alwaies?
O then that I might end even now! that all
The sorrow that possesseth my whole body
[...]n every member, would mutiny against
My heart, that so I might die speedily!
s it not miraculously strange, that this
[...]oor microcosme, this little body, should
Contain all the sorrow this great world can
nflict upon it, and not sink beneath
o huge a burthen? one hill does overcome
The strugling of Enceladus a Giant,
And yet I stand, I live: what, am I of
Lucora's temper, impregnable? oh, oh, oh!
Cle.
[Page 324]Alas my Master! good my Lord, collect
Your strength, and be not thus effeminate.
Car.
I'me manly boy: for women cannot tell
What thing affliction is, their stony hearts
Relent so little at it in their lovers.
Oh! I shall never have her! now I give
Liberty to a just despaire to wrack me:
And it must ever do so. What a Chaos
Of misery▪ is an unfortunate Lover!
Cle.
I pray you (Sir) put off this vehemency of passion, she will relent.
Car.
Never whil'st I live.
Cle.
She will indeed, I know she will.
Car.
Woo'd she would love me after I am dead for her:
It were some happiness to think that, Anclethe.
Cle.
I doubt not but she will shortly be yours (my Lord)
And weep for joy to hear me make relation
Of this same violent passion you are in now.
Car.
Thou art a good boy, but this Lady, O my heart!
Could sitting down in Cassiopeia's chair,
And kicking proud Arctophylax from the skie;
Could stopping the Septentrian sevenfold teame,
And putting out the starry Eagles eies;
Could swimming violently up those Rocks
From which the Memphian Nilus tumbles down;
Could the compelling of rash Phaetons Sire
To change his course, and run from north to South▪
[Page 325] Could the adventuring to undertake
A journey through Affrickes dread'st wilderness,
When the Aeolians do loudest breath,
And vale the Sun with sandy mountains height;
Enforce her to repent the Tragedy
By these attempts drawn on me, she should find
What truth of love was in her servants mind.
Clea.
Keep back his hands, O heavens, from violent deeds,
Let him not offer injury against
His own dear life.
Car.
I have pratled too much: but I ha done.
No longer shall my happiness be delaid,
Nor the displeased destinies any more
Jeer the sad depth of wretchedness I live in,
Thus—Here I fall her cruel sacrifice.
Clea.
Hold, for heavens sake hold.
Car.
Tis too late to prevent:
Patience Anclethe! commend me to Lucora,
That Angel beauty without Angel pity:
Tell her my wofull story, how (ere since
Thou knew'st me) I have languished for her;
That I have spent whole nights in tears and sighes,
What days in solitude to think of her;
That I did suffer her unkindness, while
I had a dram of patience left within me:
Tell her how her most cruel letter rais'd
A despair higher then my strength, and that
Under her strange unkindness I am faln.
Weep not Anclethe! I am faint, struck dumb.
Fly passionate soul into Elizium.
He faints
Cle.
[Page 326]O my dear Lord, brave young Carionil,
I'le wash thy wound with tears, stop it with sighes:
Unkindest day that ever wore the sun!
Thou art accurst for giving light unto
His hand to guide it to an act so much
Beneath manhood. O me! I am undone!
What now will my disguise avail me,
Foolish sister Lucora! O ye heavens,
Where lies our difference? are we not the same
By birth on both sides, of one sex? sure nature
Degenerates against it self, or this
Untimely—O ye Gods I dare not name it,
Nor will I believe it; he is alive,
So suddenly the world cannot be ruin'd,
Which is if he be lost; all vertue gone,
All valour, piety, and every thing
Mortality can boast of. My Lord, noble
Carionil! he doth not hear me, alas!
I am for ever most desolate of women▪
Injurious heart-strings break, why do you tie
Me to a life millions of degrees more lothsome
Then the forgetful sepulchre of death?
Would some commiserating benevolent star
(Which carries fate in't) would in pitty to
My misery, take me from it: for love he
Lies here this bemoaned spectacle; and shall
My passion be undervalued? tears, nor sighes,
Nor Dirges sung by me eternally,
Can parallel our loves at full, 't must be
The same way, and it shall; the same blade
[Page 327] Shall be the instrument, and I receive it
Tragediously here on my knees; wood some
Kind body would interr us in one tomb:
Be firm my hand, and bold.
Fal.
Anclethe!
Enter Falorus.
Cle.
My Lord Carionil cals, is [...]t you! then—
Fal.
But I must hold you, and bereave your hand.
Cle.
And you may also die, your friend is slain;
My noble Lord Carionil is dead,
The paper in his left hand yet, that brought
His reason into such subjection,
That he even frantickly did stab himself.
Fal.
I will extend my life till I have read it.
He reads the Letter.
This Lady is a rough blown sea, on which
His worthy life has foully suffer'd shipwrack:
I have her! not Mercury pleading in her defence
With Oratory able to stint Ioves wrath
(When he has bespoke thunderbolts of the Cyclops,
To wreak some injury) should ever win me
To her bed. Polidacre, mew her up
Like Danae in a brazen fort, or else
Make her to answer with her life this murther
She's accessary to: proud piece of vanity!
I do want words to give my thoughts expression;
So much I hate her. Prithee Anclethe pardon
My injury against thy rest, for holding
Thee in a life so loth'd as this is to thee:
Ile lead thee.
Car.
[Page 328]Oh, oh!
Cle.
Withhold awhile my Lord: he groans.
Car.
Thou art the cause Lucora, and I must not
I blame thee:
I struck not that blow right, but this shall do't.
Wam fainter then I guess'd, I have not enter'd.
B hat! who has stole the Stilletto from me?
oy! Anclethe, restore it as thou lovest me.
Fal.
Carionil, I joy you are recovered:
Death is grown courteous, or by this you had
Been wandring in the Elizian groves.
Car.
My friend Falorus!
Fal.
Your loyall friend. Give me your hand and rise:
—I'me glad to see
Your wound no worse. Twas care and willingness
To die bereft you of your Senses. I will shew you
How you may win your Mistris—you hear me.
Car.
I like it we I: it may prevail, I hope
It will.
Fal.
Anclethe had slain himself had I not come.
Car.
Good boy, thou wert too kind.
Cli.
Indeed my Lord I never shall desire to survive you.
Car.
Divulge my death.
Cle.
I will not fail.
Fal.
Why (my Carionil) would you engage
So much your self to any of that sex,
As for a disrespondency to lay
Violent hands upon your self?
Intruth (my friend) I wonder at it justly▪
[Page 329] You merit more then they can satisfie
With their endeavours all of them.
Car.
Proceed not (good Falorus) in this language.
Fal.
What good do women! old Amphitrite's face
Is not so full of wrincles, as they are Of▪vices.
Car.
No more, as you regard (what alwaies yet
You have profest) our long continued friendship.
O women, most admired Creatures! how
Can the just heavens these speeches so allow?
What good do women! I do say what ill?
Who do perform what men can onely will.
Why have we ears, if not to hear the sound
And sacred harmony their tongues compound?
Why have we tears, if not to weep when we
Do chance a woman discontent to see?
Why have we eyes, if not to look upon
Their beauties, natures high perfection?
Why have we tongues, if not to praise them, when
They slander'd are by railings of ill men?
Why have we reason all, if not to deem us
Happy, because some women do esteem us?
Fal.
You are their worthy champion: what I said
Was out of passion for Lucora's dealing.
I will report y'are dead.
Car.
I shall be obliged unto you by't.
Exeunt.
[Page 330] Enter Phyginois solus.
Phy.
My clothes are almost made, and every thing
That does belong unto the habit of
A gentleman, I have prepar'd me richly;
For in these garments I dare not accost her.
I had good fortune to come with Cleanthe,
Who hath been very bountiful unto me.
Enter Polidacre, Rosinda, Antiphila, Lucora, and Nentis.
Pol.
Lady, I take it very kindly you
Would do me such an honour as visit me:
It shall be my study to deserve it.
Ant.
My Lord, this is too ceremonious:
Pray you let us walk.
I much approve of this Aire:
I know no place so sweet about the City.
Ro.
How observant he is! he would fain make it a match, and I think she is willing enough. But I shall prevent them with amazement.
I will see further in it first.
Phy.
The heavens (worthy gallants) be serene as long as you presume under the safety of them.
Pol.
Know you this fellow Tandorix?
Ro.
His name is Draculemion.
Pol.
O! I have heard of him.
Luc.
Tis some frantick.
Pol.
What wind brought you hither?
Phy.
[Page 331]That which (noble Sir) shall blow me all over the Universe to do you service.
Pol.
I thank you for your complement, your Captainly protestation.
Phy.
Brave Bevy of gallants, my purse being Millions of degrees voyder of money then my heart of courage, I desire to empty my mouth of words, to fill up the vacuum of it, if you please to lend me your attention, and afterwards to commemorate (with munificence) the worth of my Oration.
Pol.
Sweet Antiphila, what say you?
Anti.
He speaks so strangely I would hear him.
Pol.
Draculemion, you know what to do.
Phy.
Hail (but fair weather) I that have been the favorite of inconstant fortune, and term'd worthily by the worshipfull title of a gentleman, am now debas'd into an humble fugitive. Commiserate this wonderful change (most excellent Auditors) and let your recompence be a help, again to restore me, and a story to exalt me towards the fastigium of my pristine felicity, and (at your connivence) I will post afoot to Mexico, drink your healthes till I'me sick, and kill any I hear speak irreverently of you. These, and more then these will I accomplish, though to my perpetual ignominy, or dissolution of my life, conditionally you will bestow fluently upon your slave so undeserving a little.
Dixi.
Pol.
Heres for all the company.
Phi.
[Page 332]Will you give me leave to be grateful?
Pol.
Yes surely.
Phi.
Ile not desire the Muses to repleat
My willing genius with poetick heat:
This subject doth transcend them: Ile desire
Apollo to this Lay to touch his Lyre.
Thou Charioter of heaven, that dost invest
Thy swift-hoof'd Coursers in the dewy East
(With harness work'd by Mulciber) to light
The world, and dissipate the clouds of night;
For Phaetons sake (not unto me unlike)
Thy sweetest notes unto this ditty strike.
Pol.
If the Exordium be so long, t'will be tedious before the conclusion.
Anti.
Dismiss him therefore.
Pol.
Farewell Draculemion.
Phi.
Would I might kiss thee before, Nentis.
- Aside
Exit Phi.
Pol.
Madam, how do you like the Lord Falorus?
Anti.
Very well my Lord.
Pol.
Him I have often motion'd to Lucora,
And he hath consented to marry her, would it not
Be a good fortune for her think you?
Ant.
Indeed I think it would.
Pol.
How say you now Lucora?
Ant.
For he is a much applauded gentleman,
Of good conditions, and of sweet behaviour,
Whose company is every where acceptable;
He deserves a good match, such a one as your daughter is.
Pol.
[Page 333]How say you girle! was any thing I told you
Of Falorus, a falshood? Come prethee do thy self a good turn,
And take him, do Lucora.
Luc.
Dear Father, pardon me, indeed I have not
Any desire yet to marry.
Pol.
Sure you have! Bethink you, and speak wiser.
Luc.
Truly I have not Sir,
Pol.
Y'are a stubborn wench, and I am sorry
It was my hard fortune to be thy father:
Your shrewdness shal not carry you through so freely
(As you believe it will) it shall not maiden.
Anti.
Do not chide her. She will be rul'd by you.
Luc.
Indeed Madam I had rather live as I do.
Pol.
No I believe not that. There is some one
Or other farre inferiour unto him
Whom she's in love withall, perhaps some vile
Scumme of the Town.
Luc.
Dear Sir, you conceive amiss of me; for I
Love no man yet, and hope I never shall
Be of another mind.
Poli.
Tis false, I cannot believe you.
Luc.
If ever I should Id'e hate my self to place
Affection on a man of base birth, or
Unseemly qualities.
Anti.
Be not angry Sir.
Nent.
I pray you marry (Madam) for it is
A state wherein one may securely kiss.
Luc.
Leave thy foolery,
Nent.
O tis a fine thing to have a coach of [Page 334] ones own, to go to a play when you will,
And be restrain'd from nothing you have a desire to do.
Luc.
Marriage is no such liberty as you make it.
Pol.
Think of my will: I give you time.
Exeunt all but Rosinda.
Rosin.
They have hard fortune (which the Gods remove)
That (where they cannot) are compel'd to love:
I woo'd she had Carionil; I esteem not the ancient Enmity
Between the families.
Enter Phyginois.
Now Draculemion, how do you?
Phy.
At your beck, and in good health, brave sparks of generosity.
Ros.
I must needs attend my Lord, otherwise
We would have had one pint together.
Phyg.
Thou art a joviall Lad. Farewell.
Ex. Rosin.
O my Nentis! thou art a worthy Andromache, and dost deserve Hector the couragious Trojan Wagg.
Enter Philander.
Phil.
They are not here.
Phyg.
I must to my trick agen.
Divine Apollo, and the Muses nine,
Can ye behold his ruine, unto whom
Ye have vouchsafed sacred Poesie?
Or see him sleep under a hedge i'th field,
Who hath so often on Parnassus lain?
[Page 335] Or seek the River for to quench his thirst,
Who at Boeotian Hippocrene hath
Pledged Mnemosyne in full-fraught Cups?
Or wander bareleg'd, who upon the Stage
Hath acted oftentimes in Sockes and Buskins?
Or see him tan'd for want of an old Hat,
Whose Temples (unto his immortal praise)
Ye have so richly view'd begirt with Bayes?
Phil.
Daculemion! I am glad to find thee: l' [...]e have a speech.
Phyg.
Your VVorship shall.
As yet the contentious night has not exterminated Hyperion from the celestial Globe; who daily useth to hawke with the firmamental Eagle, and to hunt Ursa Major round about the Forrest of the skie, to go to plow▪ when he wants Corn with Taurus, and (when he is hungry) to eat Aries, and at night (when he comes 'ith VVest) to court the Lady Virgo to be his bedfellow, whom because he cannot obtain, he lashes on his horses, and goes and reports his stubbornness to his friends at the Antipodes. Nor as yet hath the Trumpeter Boreas blown stormy Clouds into our Horizon to deprive our eyes from the powerful radiance of his orbicular and refulgent head. Nor as yet am I weary to do you service, nor will be while I am able.
Phil.
Here's for you.
VVhat a wordy nothing thou hast spoken?
Phyg.
You have given me current silver for it.
[Page] Y'are a bountiful gallant.
Exit.
Phil.
My father is my Rival, and I find
To him Antiphila is most inclin'd.
What the Fates will we never can prevent,
And (till the end) we know not their intent.
Exit.
FINIS Actus Secundi.
Actus Tertii.
Scena Prima.
Enter Falorus solus.
Fal.
A Potion he hath took, and is orecome
By the deceitful working of't, and lies
As if he had no interest in this life.
Lucora I have sent for, that we may
See how she'l take it, for by her carriage now
We shall perceive if there be any hope.
Enter Cleanthe.
What will the Lady deign her presence here?
Cle.
She will my Lord.
Falo.
Tis well.
Cle.
And is at hand of entring.
Falo.
Prithee Anclethe, bid them bring out my friend.
Exit Cleanthe.
Though once Carionil did not believe
My protestations to him to relinquish
All title to Lucora, yet I meant it:
Were she a Lady farre more excellent,
And richer in the ornaments of Nature;
Did she exceed the fairest of her Sex
More then fine-featur'd Mars the ugliest Satyre;
Were her tongue Musick, and her words enchanting,
[Page 338] And her conditions gentle like a Goddess.
I'de rather carry Aetna in my breast,
Then be disloyal to my friend, farre rather.
Enter Cleanthe, and Servants putting forth a Bel▪ with Carionil upon it.
Thou art most dutiful, Anclethe;
O Art! Natures most curious imitatresse,
How like a body late depriv'd of life
Does he lie sleeping without motion!
Enter Lucora, and Nentis.
Cle.
My Lord, the Lady Lucora,
Fal.
Draw back:
But stay you here Anclethe.
Exeunt Servi.
I thank you Lady for this favour to us;
Were Carionil alive he would requite it.
He would unto the utmost.
Luc.
My Lord,
I'me sorry that a gentleman reputed ever
Most wise, and voyced by a general fame
To be complete and perfect in all goodness,
(The which Carionil was) should thus destroy
The great opinion all the world had of him:
His depriving himself of his own life
For that foolish affection he bare me,
(I having often told him that he spent
[Page 339] His service barrenly, and that it would
Yield him no fruit) was such a weakness in him,
That his lives honour his deathes shame hath ruin'd.
Hither I came at his dying request,
Which (his Boy told me) was to have me see
What my obdurateness hath urg'd him to;
For so he term'd it: his desire is satisfi'd:
Were he alive agen I could not love him.
Si [...], I should love him less for the poor weakness
This act accuses him of, I should, believe me;
And so my Lord I take my leave.
Nent.
Had I been his Mistris he had liv'd.
—Aside.
Fal.
Stay Lady,
Shew more respect, for truly he deserv'd it.
Clean.
But kiss his lips, if you will do no more.
Luc.
The Boy and all.
Clean.
Speaks reason.
—Aside
Luc.
His will I have accomplish'd. Farewell Sir.
Exeunt Luco. and Nent.
Fal.
Hath she a heart? or if she have, what mettal or stone is it of?
Dost thou not think (Anclethe) that man happy
Who's free from all the molestations
That are concomitants to affection,
And to the grievous bondage of a woman?
Cle.
My Lord contingently.
Fal.
Thy timeless inexperience doth deceive thee.
Believe me boy, there does not live a woman
Who more then complementally is my Mistris.
Cle.
Sir, you do not fear to love one of them?
Fal.
[Page 340]Yes: and the Gods keep me still in that fear.
Sure such another as Lucora put out Cupids eyes.
O women, women!
Cle.
Truly my Lord I do believe all Ladies
Are not cruel; indeed I do.
Fal.
Thou art too young to be suspected, otherwise
I should think that some subtile false one had
Beguil'd thy youth. Nature has work'd the Potion out.
Cle.
My Lord recovers strength.
Car.
How ist?
Fal.
How does my friend?
Car.
Repeat my destiny.
Fal.
Receive it with as calm a quietness
As I deliver it: your ear!
—Privately.
Cle.
Vouchsafe him patience, O ye Gods.
Car.
When huge-wav'd Rivers from the earths high banks
Precipitate themselves into the Ocean,
Will stilness follow? Can you think then, can you,
I may be quiet? was Iove so, when the great
Brood of the Earth, the Giants did assay
Olympus conquest? Can I then a poor
Dejected man be calm; when all the misery
The world can send it pours on me fully?
Aeolus, run thy ventrous sword again
Into the Rocks, and give an Issue to
The winds, that they may with their irefull blasts
Remove the world from off it's stedfast hinge.
Or blow the Pole-Stars out, and so let fall
This Globe we breath on. Or (by whirlwinds force)
Both Sexes collect together, and carry them
[Page 341] In't places opposite; The one into
The Arctick, the other the Southern Regions,
And let them of themselves propagate the like:
So womens Tyrannies can do no ill,
And men perform what one another will.
Fal.
This favours frantickly.
Cle.
Deprive him not of reason, but exalt
Him to himself, O heavens! Ah me!
Car.
Tis true. The sea is alwaies full of water,
(The Lands do relieve it) and yet has no cause
For lamentation, but wofull man
Hath but a few, indeed a very few
Salt tears to mollifie the burthenous draught
Of misery which his malignant Stars
Compell him to endure.
What? his Mistris venome obstinacy? not possible,
Tis unsufferable, above our frail carriage.
Fal.
The word friend, waies all titles of honour down,
And therefore not by them, but that I beseech you
Not to neglect your self. I've lately known
The time when death almost inevitable
Could not unfix your thoughts. This cause is weaker.
Car.
How!
Fal.
Believe me friend.
Car.
Believe you! I would believe thee friend,
Didst thou affirm absurdest contraries:
That the Sun was extinguished, and the bright
Moon was blown out, and all the Stars were faln,
And nature (yet harmonious) disordered
Into another Chaos, I would believe you:
[Page 342] For rather then you should pronounce a falshood,
Things that are not would be.
Fal.
Alas! you are distempered;
I grieve to see you so for so poor a cause.
Car.
It is a weighty one, and if the brave
Fam'd off-spring of Alcmena had endur'd it,
He had enlarg'd his labours to thirteen,
And been another wonder to the world.
But (noblest friend) you know the History,
How he the knotty club did lay aside,
Put off the rough Nemaean skin, and don'd
Maidens apparrel, for the love he bore
To ruin'd Picus daughter, young Iole.
Fal.
But he nere offer'd violence to himself.
Cle.
He did not Sir, be counsel'd by your friend,
Do my good Lord.
Car.
He had not cause, she did return him love;
And (except in this case) I would suffer
Beyond expression from another hand,
Without a thought to use my own. But you
May say I'me passionate: tis right, I am so
I know't, and you cannot expect less from me.
Were I as free from love as you have known me.
You should not taxe me with that fault, although
Unstable fortune made an Irus of me:
But you may call this boasting.
Fal.
Far be it from me, tis a perfect truth.
Cle.
Ah, Alas!
Car.
Leave sighing boy prethee.
Fal.
Come,
[Page 343] You shall be temperate again (my friend)
And have fair likelyhood to obtain your Lady.
Car.
Impossible!
Fal.
I've form'd the plot already, you must be, draw near.
Car.
How a Negro, an Ethiopian! t'is frivolous.
She is too obdurate, most obstinate.
Fal.
Hath she not refused the bravest and handsomest gentlemen of this kingdome?
You cannot deny it. Be therefore counselled,
She that cannot love a man of a better complexion,
On one of them may settle her affection.
Car.
I have some hope again, you shall stay with my friend, refuse it not I prethee.
For many conveniences it is necessary; I every day shall see thee, and shortly will take thee agen.
Cle.
My Lord, I beseech you.
Car.
Nay, my Anclethe let me not use words,
As thou dost love me deny me not.
Cle.
Sir, I am charm'd, and will obey you.
Fal.
Come, lets walk, and I'le instruct you fully.
Exeunt Omnes.
Scena secunda.
Enter Iaques solus drunk.
THis London wine is a parlous liquor; twill turn you a mans head so long round, that at last 'twill set it where his heeles should be: another [Page 344] glass ont had prov'd me a reeler, a cotqueane, which I was never brought up to; I learnt a song of my old gra [...]am, many a good ballad she would have sung me by the fire side ore a black pot, but your city wine is a more stinging liquor. She left me a very fair cow, but a villanous thief stole me her, (foul cheeve him for it) and escap'd I know not whither: but alls won, much good do him with it, my Ladies Worships service is better then a team of oxen. But the song must not be forgot.
1.
All that about me sit,
Laugh at my pleasant wit,
And neither cough nor spit,
Till I have done a.
For I will sing a song,
That fitly shall be long,
To a cow and not wrong
Mount Helicona.
2.
Don Quixots Rosinant,
And Sancho's asse errant,
And Bankes his horse do want
What she may brag of.
They would ones breech much gall,
And give one many a fall,
Sufficient therewithal
To break ones crag off.
No beast upon the field,
Doth man more profit yield,
Whither alive or kild,
As may be proved.
Well, I'le to my chamber and sleep awhile, otherwise I'st ha a foule deal of do to keep me on my legs this afternoon,
Enter Lorece.
Iaques is now a very Barnabey!
Lore.
Iaques! so ho my boy!
Exit Iaques.
His ma [...]ch is extraordinary, sure the rogue's drunk,
He's so very deaf—
The report is that Doctor Aristotle cast himself into the sea, because he could not (with all his rambling Philosophy) find out the natural cause of the ebbing and flowing of it: but (had his good scholarship been troubled with my Mistris) he might a jolted out his brains against a rock, for his dulness in inventing a method of wooing to win her Ladiship withal. I here will sit and muse.
Sits in a private place.
Enter Vandona and Iaques.
Iaq.
Indeed Madam I will be very serviceable unto [Page 346] you, if now and then you will suffer me to be blith and full of merry moods.
Van.
Iaques! where ha you been?
Ia.
At the spigget. Is it not a very rainy wet day?
Van.
Thou art well washed within.
Iaq.
Tis a very dark day: the sun shines clear tho.
Van.
T'hast a light head Iaques.
Iaq.
And yet I cannot bear't stedfast on my shoulders, wine's monstrous strong.
Let me see who am I?
Van.
Th'art a fool.
Iaq.
The play's the better for't.
Van.
Y'are a drunken coxcomb, go.
Iaq.
Thou captive Greek, I am a Beglerbeg.
Van.
Thou woot be a beggar and thou leav'st not thy drinking.
Iaq.
Thou me Roxalana! am not I the great Sultan?
Van.
A booby.
Iaq.
You shew your breeding to upbraid the Majesty of the Grand Signior.
Van.
Peace, no more fooling.
Iaq.
You are drunk with north countrey Balderdash, you keep no wine, water your kitlings with beer, nothing but wine shall be drunk in my court.
Van.
I shall be troubled with him else. Embassadors wait your return at your Palace.
Iaq.
We will withdraw: send the Bashaes after me, they shall present me wine.
Exit.
Lorece discloseth himself.
Van.
Is he here?
[Page 347] I shall be courted certainly, and perhaps shall yield.
Lore.
Most welcome happiest Genius of my life,
Dearest Vandona, let your lilly hand
Enrich my lips.
Van.
Y'are very complemental, servant.
Lore.
Mistris, faith I love you, as for millions of causes,
So also for a natural demeanour,
It showes you are no of-spring of the City.
Van.
You would marry none, servant?
Lore.
No, six thousand pounds cannot hide a squint eye, a crooked back, or a red head, or a muddy face, though they may gild them.
Van.
This is very Satyrical, but there be Beauties of all coloured hair, eies, and complexions.
Lore.
I at any time will carry you to a Play, either to the Black Friers or Cockpit. And you shall go to the Exchange when you will, and have as much money as you please to lay out, you shall find me a very loving husband in troth dear Lady.
Van.
But servant, you have been a very deboist gentleman.
Lor.
Forget what y'ave heard, and you shall hear no more on't. But we are extravagant, come, let's to'th joyner.
Van.
To whom, and for what Mr. Lorece?
Lore.
To Hymen in his saffron coat, to be married.
Van.
Some other time, a month hence will serve.
Lor.
Then must I court another bout.
Van.
What you please Sir.
Lor.
[Page 348]O Cupid the Bow-man,
I am not thy foe man;
For I love this woman,
As well as I know man.
And therefore I pray thee,
From mischief to stay me;
And quickly to lay me
In bed with this Lady.
Van.
What call you this Sir?
Lor.
Tis my imploration, and ode.
Van.
Y'are very fluent Sir.
Lor.
And yet neglected. But Ile make Cornelius Gallus speak English, and he shall wooe for me.
Van.
What say you servant?
Lor.
Be you attentive, and you shall hear.
My sweet Vandona, fine and comely lass,
(Whose beauty Milk and Lillies doth surpass,
And the sweet Roses, both t [...] white and red,
Or Indian Ivory new polished)
O spread, O spread abroad thy yellow hair,
Like glorious gold, shining all out as fair:
Thy purest Alablaster neck, and show's
VVhich (from between thy graceful shoulders)
Open thy Starry eyes, and let us view (growes;
Their browes above them of a Sable hew:
And both thy Roseal cheeks let us espie
Beautified with a natural Tyrian die.
Put forth thy lips, their Corral let us see,
And (Dovelike) gentle kisses give to me.
Kisses her.
[Page 349] Of amorous life my breath did draw out part:
Those kisses peirc'd meto the very heart.
Why didst thou suck my blood (O cruel she?)
Henceforth thy dugges (like Apples) hide from me,
Which with Ambrosiack cream shall swell thy breast,
Discloseth Cynamon I yield, and best
Delights arise from thee: yet thy Paps cover,
Whose growth, and beauty, do make me a lover:
For seest thou not, that languishing I lye?
A man half dead how canst thou thus destroy!
Van.
This is meer flattery.
Lor.
Tis but a spark (Madam) an almost invisible atome of truth, which can scarce be discern'd in the Sun-shine of your perfections, credit me Madam
Van.
They are most childish will believe all that their servants say, my most poetical Servant.
Lor.
Most obdurate Lady.
Van.
Will you wrangle?
Lor.
Was ever Widow so hard to win? Sure your husband got not your maidenhead you are so backward.
Van.
Adieu Sir.
Lor.
Not yet I pray you sweetest Lady, if—
Van.
Pray you trouble me with no more speeches.
Lor.
O cruel reply to a Lovers suit!
If ever you have felt this passions pain,
If ever you would pitied be your self,
Or if you know that Love hath power to kill;
For all these (which you heretofore have been
Subject unto) commiserate a heart
So full of love for you that it will break.
[Page 350] If you deny:
But if you will remain inexorable,
And frown on him who ay must fawn on you,
I wish my fortune may be yours, and that
If ere you love you may be served so.
Van.
I'm but a woman, and these words would move
A stupid rock to pitty, Sir I can
Resist no more, your tongue has magick in't:
You have overcome me, and enjoy your conquest.
Lor.
My dear widow, let me kiss thee for this! thy dare of wearing black is almost out. O my joy! methinks I could out-sing old Homer, the nine Muses, and put their Patron Apollo our of fame.
Enter Falorus, Ceanthe and Phyginois in brave apparel.
My Vandona, yonder is my brother, he will be glad to hear of my good fortune.
Fal.
Who's he?
Clea.
A friend of mine (my Lord)
Fal.
I shall be desirous (Sir) both for your own, and for Anclethes sake, to be better acquainted with you.
May I demand your name?
Phy.
Your servant is cal'd Phyginois.
Fal.
How have you sped brother?
Lor.
She will be cal'd your sister: salute her, go kiss her for't.
Fal.
[Page 351]Lady, I hope my brother will deserve you,
By proving an affectionate husband to you.
Phy.
Madam, I am a stranger, but will endeavour to make my self known unto you by any service I can do you.
Van.
Thank you Sir.
Phy.
My Nentis doth excel her sister
—Aside.
Lor.
Come brother, will you go with us?
Fal.
Ile wait upon your Mistress.
Exeunt Fal. Lor. Van.
Cle.
My faithful friend, may all thy wishes prosper,
And a fair end crown them most happily.
Phy.
Sweetest of Ladies!
Clea.
Thou didst prefer goodness before the raising of thy house.
Phy.
It grieved me to think so noble a Lady should be so poorely dispos'd of;
My brothers birth, nor forunes could deserve you.
Cle.
I was ignorant, and might have undone my self.
Phy.
I did pitty you.
Cle.
And ever have oblig'd me to you for't.
Phy.
If your sisters woman Mistress Nentis be obstinate, and you prosper;
Hereafter you may do me a multitude of favours.
Cle.
I nere will fail to do the best I can; now let us follow them.
Love is a passion not to be withstood;
And (until hearts be mutual) never good.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Carionil solus like a Negro, in strange apparel.
Car.
AN houres life is like the various year,
Which hardly bears one form a fortnights space:
He sure deserves respect that to obtain
His Mistress, thinks all trouble a content.
These two years have not had so many quarters
As I disguises, scarce as many daies
As I devises, and yet to no purpose:
What I may do in this I cannot guess;
But for mine own purpose must hope the best.
My late long residence ith Spanish Court, when I lay there Leiger Embassador,
Hath made me speak the Castilian language perfectly;
Which will be my great furtherance, because
Polidacre affects that tongue exceedingly;
And I know will gladly give me a free access
Unto his house at all times.
Estoy yo (como deue) muy lobrego;
Porque de mi, Lucora haze un Negro.
Enter Polidacre, Lucora and Nentis.
They shall not see me yet.
Sir, your daily importunities have so mov'd me that I must yield unwillingly, onely I request to have [Page 353] our marriage defer'd a month dear Sir, do not deny me this.
Pol.
I thank thee girle.
Enter Falorus.
Welcome Falorus: my daughter's yours after four weeks be past.
Fal.
Worthy Sir, y'are too bountiful. Most excellent Lady, you will make my fortune envied. I must dissemble yet, for I will not wrong Carionil.
Nen.
I like this well.
Luc.
But I will rather die then have him
—Aside.
Car.
I do not doubt my friend.
Pol.
I have laboured much for you.
Car.
Now I'le disclose my self, and counterfeit the Negro as well as I can.
Taken forth of Acaucana.
Y pues en todos triempos, y occasiones
Por la causa comun sin cargo alguno,
En battallas formadas, y esquadrones
Puede usar delas armas cadauno:
Por las mismas ligitimas razones
E's licito combate de uno a uno,
A pie, a cavallo, armado, disarmado
Orasea campo, abieto, or a estocado.
Don Carionil, would I could hear of thee!
Luc.
He is the brav'st proportion'd African I ever saw.
—Aside.
Pol.
[Page 354]I will speak to him.
Habla (voste) yngles?
Car.
Yes Sir I learnt your language at Brussels.
Pol.
I shall be most glad (Sir) to be acquainted wi [...] you.
Car.
Grave Nelides years be doubled (most honourable Hero upon you; your courtesie has won one of the greatest Ethiopian Lords to become your servant.
Luc.
What an unequal'd carriage he is of!
—Aside.
Car.
You look, Sir, like a noble Gentleman, I salute you.
Fal.
Well, Don Carionil maist thou prosper, your Mistress has consented a month hence to marry me, but doubt me not my friend.
Car.
According to the Ethiopian custome,
Great Lady, I adore your pantofle.
Luc.
You are a worthy, and a noble Moor.
Car.
This is your shadow; you shall command me fair one.
Nen.
Thank you Sir.
Pol.
I heard you mention Carionil.
Car.
Tis true,
When we were in the Spanish Court together,
I being commanded thither an Ambassador
From th' Emperor of both the Ethiopias
And of the mighty kingdoms and vast countries
Of Goa, Caffares, Fatigar, Angote, Xoa,
Barne, Balignazo, Adea, Vangue and Goyamine,
He wrong'd me, and I am come hither to seek him;
[Page 355] And with my sword to punish his rude language.
If you will tel me (Sir) where I may find him,
You shall eternally oblige me to you.
Pol.
He is lately dead Sir.
Car.
You do but jest.
Fal.
I was with him when he died.
Car.
Then he had not so honourable an end as I intended him.
Pol.
If I should not seem too inquisitive, I would desire to know your quarrel.
Luc.
I am much taken with this object
—Aside.
Car.
You may command me any thing.
We meeting in the presence one afternoon
('Mongst many things) did happen to discourse
Of Ladies; he said that none of all the world
Were so beautiful as the Spanish:
I that had read in many histories
The English have the best and loveliest faces,
Did tell him so, yet could not change his mind;
After long altercations he grew hot,
Gave me the lie reprochfully; which forced me to tell him, that though I owd so much honour to both the Majesties of our great masters, as not for private wrongs to disturb our Embassies: I meant before I died to visit his countrey, and call him there unto a strict account.
Pol.
I thank you for your free relation;
While you intend to stay in England, use
My house at your pleasure, I pray you do,
Your company will be alwaies welcome to me;
[Page 356] And I love the Castilian language, which
You speak both readily and purely:
May I demand your name?
Car.
Tis Tucapelo, and I'me subject to
Great Prestor Iohn (whose powerful Scepter awes
Sixty two Kings) and in Garama live
Magnificent for silken palaces.
Fal.
His behaviour is without suspicion
—A side.
Pol.
Tis dinner time or nigh, pray you be my guest; You shall be very welcome (Sir) both now and at all times.
Car.
I'le wait upon you.
Pol.
Falorus, let me intreat your stay.
Fal.
You shall command me.
Ex. Pol. Car. Fal.
Luc.
Injurious tyrant Love! Nentis!
Nen.
Madam.
Luc.
Stay a little.
How frail is any womans resolution!
I that so seriously have often thought
Never to change my name, am now become
A slave unto a Moore; I feel the mighty
Fabrick of all maiden vertue totter.
What may befall me worse? but I may as well
Withstand a volley of shot, and as easily,
As resist these new desires: tis very strange
That I who have denied the earnest suit
Of so complete a Gentleman as was
Carionil, and neglected his friend,
(For I will rather steale away, and do
Mean services to my inferiors,
[Page 357] Then be his wife) should dote upon a person
Some Ladies scarce dare look upon, a Moor,
A sun-burnt Moor I'me [...]tter stranger to.
What would my father say if he should know
My thoughts? banish me ever from his sight,
And never more think of Lucora's name.
But Love is not confin'd to the opinion
Of others. O this is a revenge for my
Slighting of brave Carionil; yet if
He were alive again I could not love him.
Alas I am undone! O that my Fates
Had been so kind as to have wrought my heart
Fit and propense to have requited him?
Nentis, will you be silent of my love?
Be so good Nentis.
Nen.
Why, Madam, will you have this Blackamoor? me thinks my Lord Falorus is a handsomer man by much. Alas! he will take you beyond sea.
Luc.
Nothing is strong enough to divert me.
Nen.
Your secrets (Madam) are as safe in my breast as yours.
Luc.
Befal what will, I am resolv'd.
Affection that doth tend
Not crookedly, but to a noble end,
Is worthy; and they stubbornly repine
At their creation who from it decline.
Exeunt ambae.
Finis actus tertii.
Actus quarti Scena Prima.
Enter Phylander and Antiphila.
Phy.
SWeetest Antiphila!
Anti.
I wonder Sir, in what I have so forfeited my faith that I cannot be credited.
Phy.
Urge me not, Lady, unto a belief,
That will be my destruction:
Delay me rather with a little hope,
And save me from despair.
Ant.
I can but say what I have said already.
You do not trust my tongue; Pray take a parchment,
And there inscribe a sad and solemn Oath;
And I'le subscribe that I will never have you.
Phy.
The fatal Ravens hoarse crying
Is Thracian Musick unto your reply.
Would I had heard a thousand Mandrakes groan,
So you had left me in silence.
Ant.
I pity you, but did you know me truly, you would bless my denial (young Philander.)
Phi.
Bless it! O Lady,
Durst I but be so horribly prophane
As to curse any thing you please to do,
I would go study imprecations, and
Vent them in places that are haunted by
Wild walking devils; but my grand affection
Condemns that violence. Do not then suppose
[Page 359] That thongh you were a Suc [...]ubus, I durst
Utter such impious breath. Be all the faults
(That either truth or Poets fictions
Have shewn in women) in you, I will love you
With serious admiration.
Ant.
Sir, I will release your affection.
Phi.
Impossible.
[...]ot the fairest creature (by diligent search pick'd out
Of all the infinite Myriades of beauties,
Selected from the spacious kingdoms of
The Earth, and I might chuse her freely)
Should win upon my heart to dispossess you;
She should not Lady.
Ant.
You will not hear me.
Phi.
Then may eternal deafness seize upon me:
Speak Lady, and though you do say the last
Word I shall ever hear, I will with joy
Be most attentive. The dark cave of sleep
Is not more quiet.
Anti.
I am contracted.
Phi.
You are not Lady.
Ant.
I am Sir.
Phi.
Unto my father?
Ant.
No.
Phi.
Then sentence his sure death by naming him.
Ant.
Will you destroy the man I love?
Phi.
And you him that loves you?
Ant.
What is done cannot be undone▪
Phi.
It shall▪
Ant.
You must not know his name therefore.
Phi.
[Page 360]If there be any manhood in his breast,
He shall dispose himself: Ile challenge him
By such sure circumstances (and set the papers
On publick places by the Play-Bills) that if
He dares but use a sword he will be known.
Ant.
So you will publish my disgrace.
Phi.
Too true, O Lady, dear Antiphila,
Give me his name. I will not kill him foully,
We will meet fairly: I may die upon
His sword, and you thereby be freed from my
Unworthy suit.
Ant.
Sir, promise me one thing, and I will tell you.
Phi.
Here is my hand, you shall charm me.
Anti.
I must lye, and grosly, to be rid of his Courtship.
—Aside.
It is Tandorix. You must not speak it unto any, or quarrell about it.
Phi.
Tis not: you mock me (sweet Antiphila.)
Ant.
Indeed Philander I do not.
You will be secret for my sake, untill
I do release you of your promise.
Phi.
Y'ave had my hand: silence must be my death.
Ant.
Ile leave you Sir, and build upon your word,
For I perceive you are displeased.
Exit Antiphila.
Phi.
This tis to be a fool: which is the truest,
And briefest definition of a Lover.
What fury fascinated so my sences,
As wilfully to make me become a slave
Unto the childish passions of a woman?
On this occasion wood I understood
[Page 361] The saddest Epithets of Necromancy,
That I might joyn them to this sex: O my heart!
I am orecome with rage, and will be rather
A perjur'd Mahumetan, and wade
Through streams of blood into her arms, then a
Soft-conscience'd ass, and let this villain have her:
Could envious hell suppose a body of
So delicate a composition, cood
Within it lodge a mind so poor and worthless?
This is a womans weakness▪ no, tis a baseness
Cannot be match'd in all the faults of man.
But why am I so angry? I will shew
My fury, not in idle breath but deeds.
Enter Rosinda.
And this shall be the time; thou base ambitious
Slave, before we part thou diest.
Rosin.
O good Sir, why? I nere offended you,
Heaven knows I love you best of all the world,
Phi.
Thou art the hinderance of all the bliss
I could expect or wish for upon earth.
Ros.
Sir, let me hear the reason of your rage,
And (if you find that I have injur'd you)
I will not beg for life.
Phil.
Find it! I know it clearly,
And will not honour thee, vile man, so much
As't let my tongue joyn such unequal names.
Ros.
I understand you not: Dear Sir, be plain.
Phi.
Art thou prepar'd to die? if not, kneel here,
And pray thy self into a readiness.
Rosin.
Be not so violent.
Phi.
[Page 362]Repent.
Ros.
Let me understand my offence; the chrysome child
Is not more innocent of wrongs to you,
Then guiltless I.
Phi.
The tears of Crocodiles!
Ros.
I humbly do upon my knees implore you
That you thus rashly will not take away
The life you never can restore, and will
Bewaile for in an overlate repentance.
Phi.
To heaven, and not to me make orizons.
Ros.
I am resolv'd.
For your deceased mothers sake (at whose
Sad funeral letter I was entertaind
Into your fathers family) and for
Those tears and sighes, and sorrows she did weep,
Groan, and express at her delivery of you,
Be merciful unto a faultless stranger.
Phil.
A tedious and an exquisite torture for
Thy death▪ should not deter me from it. My mother
(Could she arise out of her watry grave,
Appear in both our views, and be an eloquent
Suppliant unto me for thy life) should not
Prevail to win me to it.
Ros.
Then nothing will satisfie, keep in your sword;
I am your mother, draw off this Perriwig,
And my face will establish your belief.
Phi.
It does indeed; here prostrate on my knees
For my rude language I do crave remission.
Ros.
And you obtain it and my blessing too;
But you deserve blame for your violent fury.
[Page 363] O let me kiss your gracious hand, and seal
My pardon on your happy lips.
Why did you grieve us for the sad report
Of your untimely end?
Rosin.
You shall know all anon. But yet conceal
My being, till your fathers love be ripe,
And grown mature for a second marriage;
I pray you do.
Phil.
Mother, I will.
Now I've good hope Antiphila will be mine.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Carionil, Lucora and Nentis.
Car.
And Lady you shall not wish any thing
(If that an humane power can obtain it)
But I will make it yours. I hope you do
Not wrong my love with a suspicion
That I cannot perform what ere I promise.
Luc.
I do not, Sir, distrust your affection:
But give me leave to doubt I shall not live
According to my content in Aethiopia.
Car.
Most noble Lady, I that have seen both places,
Dare promise you, you will.
Luc.
I cannot tell Sir, I must believe you.
Car.
For these few words (whose sweetness doth exceed
Vast and elaborate volumes of eloquence)
May all the joyes that ever have made happy
The numerous Queens and Empresses that have
Been ornaments and glories to the world,
Meet unto their perfection in you.
Luc.
My Tucapelo! when I did see you first,
[Page 364] I fell in Love as deep as Lady could.
Car.
And may I dye when (in unperfect thoughts)
You do repent your choice: Mistris, I can
Make famous Gamara as pleasing to you
As is your native Countrey: You shall find
Delights above, not equal to your mind.
Luc.
Sir, your company shall be all things unto me.
Car.
You shall not touch one drop of water, but shall
Be of more virtue then the Thespian spring,
Where reverent Poets of the former times
Quaft off huge bowls to great Apollo's health.
Young virgins (whose sweet voyces do exceed
Mnemosyne's daughters) shall sing you a sleep
Each night, and (when you grace the happy woods
With your rich presence) they shall make a consort
With the innocuous queristers of the spring,
To entertain the Mistris of my life.
(—Aside.
Nent.
And I go thither they shall teach me to sing—
Car.
The Jewel-tippets of your ears shall weigh
The curious points of precious Isicles,
When Leo breathes hot vapours on the earth.
Your sedulous slaves (enrich'd by noble bloud)
Shall bear your Litter through the tedious streets
Of Gamara, while all the gallant youth
Within it runs to wonder at your beauty.
Luc.
I do believe you love me so much Sir,
That you will shew it all the wayes you can:
And I do thank you for it, and love you,
And I will shew it all the wayes I can.
Car.
O happiest speech my ears did ever hear!—
[Page 365] Amphions musick made not such a sound;
Nor Orpheus Lute that tam'd the stubborn spleen
Of hells inhumane dogge, when he did play
For the redemption of his ravish'd spouse;
Nor Phoebus (when unto his gold-strung Lyre
He for superiority did sing
His sweetest Anthems and best Madrigals
Against ambitious Pan) made harmony
To parallel the sweetness of your tongue.
Luc.
If that all my endevours can deserve
At this height your affection, by my fault
It never shall decrease.
Car.
You over-act me much, but never shall
Have thoughts beyond me.
Luc.
I pray you spare my company a while;
A while I would be private with my woman.
Car.
Lady, I will do things unwillingly
At your command: but give me leisure (fairest)
To print my heart upon your heavenly lips,
Ere my departure hence—The Ottoman Emperours
—Kisses her.
In their immense Seraglio never saw
Your matchless features in their numberless
Successive multitudes. I am so blest,
That my excessive joyes cannot be guest.
Ex. Car.
Luc.
Nentis!
Nent.
Madam.
Luc.
Unfold thy heart unto me: Let me know
What thoughts thou hast of me.
Nent.
I may offend.
Luc.
[Page 366]Indeed thou shalt not.
Nent.
Then I do wonder (Madam) that you will
Bestow your self (I think) unworthily.
Luc.
How!
Nent.
This is unpleasing to you, I will be
Hereafter silent: I have offended you.
Luc.
No: proceed.
Nent.
You are a Lady untill now unstain'd
With any blot (save obstinacy to
The brave deceas'd Carionil) and will you
Give the world reason, a good one (pardon
My honest boldness (Madam) to taxe your judgement;
And (which is worse) your virtue for this choice?
Is not Falorus far more worthy of you?
Marry him (Madam) and live still in England.
I'me sure my counsel would be seconded
By all the friends you have, did they but know
As much as I. But (Madam) if you have
Settled your affection past recall, and are
Resolved, I will be most obedient
And secret unto all your purposes.
Luc.
And wilt thou go to Aethiopia with me?
Nent.
If I do get no Servant before, and if
You will (if I dislike the country) give
Me liberty to return home.
Luc.
Most willingly.
Nent.
My Lord Falorus.
Luc.
Where?
Phyg.
If I can find the least opportunity
I will try (Nentis) of what mettal th'art made.
Fal.
I hope (Mistris) our company
Is not unwelcome to you.
Luc.
By no means Sir.
Fal.
How gently it past her tongue!
For that sweet word I kiss your hand, dear Lady.
Luc.
Where did you leave my father my Lord?
Fal.
Above a reading Guicciardin.
Nent.
Sir, I can perceive when I am flatter'd.
Phyg.
Earnest expressions of love deserve a better name.
Nent.
Why Sir, I cannot believe you love me.
Phyg.
You need not doubt of that, Mistris, I do
With as much fervency as servant can;
I do beseech you Lady to believe me.
Nent.
They are of easie faiths that believe all their servants say.
Luc.
What ail you my Lord? you are not well.
Fal.
Unwelcome guest away—I was thinking of—
Luc.
Of what?
Fal.
I ha forgot—would they would all love me—
—Aside.
I am most strangely alter'd on the sudden:
My friendship (I fear) will be too weak a tye
[Page 368] To make me silent.
Clean.
My Lord!
Fal.
Thou hadst a Master did deserve thee better.
Cle.
But he is dead, and I am yours by his
Last Legacy.
Fal.
What wouldst thou say?
—Aside.
Cle.
I hope y'are well.
Fal.
He has found out an alteration in me:
I must beware of publick signs. I was Privately▪
Full of Carionil; my thoughts were busie
Concerning him:
Madam, I pray you pardon my neglect
Of frequents visits; I have been too guilty.
Luc.
You have not offended.
Fal.
Tis your great goodness to say so.
Nent.
This, Sir, is too importunate.
Phy.
To slack (dear Mistris) but wink at my insufficiency.
Nent.
You said, you love no woman in the world
But me.
Phy.
And may you hate me if I do.
Nent.
As I see you ready to give me full satisfaction that you mean faithfully, so shall you find me willing to requite you.
Phy.
No man can boast such happiness.
Nent.
Sir, be moderate; y'are not so sure of me, but (upon occasion) I can retire; neither would I have the company take notice of us.
Phyg.
You shall command me (Mistris)
Fal.
These passions are new to me: woo'd I were private.
[Page 369] I never did observe her so well before.
Luc.
My Lord!
Fal.
What say you (Madam?)
Luc.
You saw not my brother Philander to day?
Fal.
No truly Lady I did not.
Luc.
Your brother (Nentis saies) shall shortly be married to
The rich widow her sister.
Fal.
So he doth hope.
Enter Tandorix.
Rosin.
Madam, dinner stayes of you.
Luc.
You hear my Lord.
Fal.
Nay Anclethe, stay not for me, wait on the Lady: Ile follow immediately.
Exeunt▪ Luc. Nen. Phy. Clean.
What ailes me? let me see
What is the cause of such an alteration
I find within me: doubtless it is Love.
To whom? to whom but to the worthiest
And sweetest Lucora? Take heed, tis dangerous▪
A sudden ruine so will seise my friendship,
And prove my former protestations
Feign'd untruths. Cannot the noble name
Of young Carionil prevent me? No,
Nor certainty of all the evil wills
Of all the friends I have;
Were both our better Genius Orators,
And here embraced fast my knees, and wept
Miraculous tears (to quench the rising flames
Lucora's irresistible eyes have kindled
In me, or to drown this late impression Love
[Page 370] Hath seald upon my heart) I'de be as remorseless
As the most stern and unremoved Scythian,
And deafer then the people that inhabit
Near the Egyptian Cataracts of Nile.
But I am base, base to infringe the knot
Of amity a long and serious knowledge
Of each other hath tyed betwixt us. Twere safer
Sayling with drunken Mariners between
Hard Sylla and Charybdis, then to suffer
My much divided thoughts, and forth of them
To work such a conclusion to my passions,
As might hereafter confirm me noble in
Th' opinion of the world: but I'me most ignorant,
And know not what to do. Wood I were so
Distraught, that my own self I could not know.
Exit.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Lorece, and Vandona.
Lor.
Sweet Mistris, your bounty will become
An envy unto future times.
Van.
So let your love Sir.
Lor.
But speak (my Dear) what happy day shall give
A fair conclusion unto all my wishes?
Van.
What haste good servant?
Enter Jaques.
Lor.
Nay be not angry Sweet.
Ia.
Madam (and please you) your own good servants desire to shew your Worships some pretty pastime.
Van.
[Page 371]It pleases us well: when begins it?
Iaq.
Eene presently; Ile goe and tell them all what a good woman you are.
Exit Ja.
Lor.
This is not usual with you?
Van.
Indeed Servant so seldom, that I remember not the like:
Sure tis for your entertainment; they think I have
Been a niggard of it, and help to make it out.
Lor.
You are too good.
Van.
So you can never be.
Lor.
And yet I will not fail to do my best.
Van.
I pray you do not (dear Lorece) for tis a good resolution.
Enter Clownish Maskers.
Lor.
I see we shall have some odde thing.
Van.
I wish Sir▪ it may prove worthy your laughter.
Lor.
My fair Vandona, I believe you will have your desire.
Van.
Iaques is among them: he may move you.
Iaq.
An'ether of you ask what's here, tis a Mask
Which we Actors do hope will content you:
If not, when it ends let us all part friends,
And of your attention go in and repent you.
I hope your Worships will say I have pronounc'd this well enough.
Lor.
To my content honest Iaques.
Van.
I'me glad you like it.
Ja.
[Page 372]Come Hymen, thou fellow that always wear'st yellow,
Draw near in thy Frock of Saffron;
Once more I say appear before this gentleman here,
And this Lady in the white apron.
If the boy thou dost bring hath a voice fit to sing,
Lets have a merry new Ballet:
Begin thou the Song, and it will not be long
(We hope) before he will follow't.
A Song.
Hymen.
Say, Boy, who are fit to be
Ioyn'd into an unity?
Boy.
They that will permit their wives
To live pleasant quiet lives,
And will never entertain
Thoughts of jealousie, if vain.
Hym.
Now Boy let this couple hear
What should be the womans care.
Boy.
A wife should be secret, true,
Most obedient, and no shrew;
Should obey her husbands will,
While therein she finds no ill.
Omnes.
Such a Wife and husband too
We do wish both him and you.
Lor.
Prithee Sweet lets be married this afternoon, and this shall be our Epithalamion.
Van.
[Page 373]Stay my leisure good servant: t'will not belong.
Iaq.
Now if you please to cast a glance Hither, ye shall see us dance:
Fidlers play, begin and strike: What ye see do not dislike.
They dance.
Lor.
What a mad toy tis Mistris!
Van.
Iaques! this day use my wine-cellar, you and your company
May be as free in it as you will.
Hym.
Her Ladyship sayes well: Good now ho lets go thither,
Without more ado.
Iaq.
Goodman Wedlock, where was your mind marle? Is there not a piece behind yet? Ile not budge a foot till I have discharg'd it.
Hym.
Out with it then.
Iaq.
Mr. Marriage, put me not out with your grining: for an you do all's spoil'd.
Gentleman and Madam, you have seen
What our Mask and performance hath been:
If you like both tis well; and if but one,
Of the other wood we had done none.
For clapping of hands we care not two chips;
We are satisfied if you joyn your lips.
Lor.
I thank you all.
Van.
And so do I: you now may go.
Iaq.
And so we must, for I ha done. All's done: this last (what do you call,) was the full end of it.
Hym.
Why go we not?
Boy.
[Page 374]I am very dry with singing and dancing.
Iaq.
Follow me to the wine-cellar.
Exeunt Maskers.
Van.
You must keep your promise: you are expected by this.
Lor.
Lady, I ki [...] your hand: This is my vale as often as I come.
Ile seal my welcome on your lips. Farewell widow.
Van.
Remember my service to your brother.
Lor.
Command me any thing.
Exeunt Ambo.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Carionil Solus.
Car.
The tedious winter of my many griefs
Her calmer heavenly breath hath now blown over;
And all my tears and sighes are now converted
Into a happiness will soon be perfect.
The gallant Courtier Paris Alexander
(When he had stole the young Atrides Bride,
The sister of the two Tindarides,
And with great triumphs entred into Troy)
Was sad and melancholy unto me.
How wise the Fates are! Ere we can obtain
Perfect frnition of the thing we love,
We must break through great difficulties & tedious,
Unto the end that we may more esteem
And prize our happiness when we atchieve it.
Thanks (excellent Lady) for your gracious promise:
May every Lover henceforth bless your tongue.
[Page 375] [...]he hath prefix'd this hour to be the time
Wherein I shall out-grow all hope, and fix
Upon the proudest height of fortunes wheel.
Hail happy hour! This is her chamber window,
And this the door whereby she must escape.
Enter Lucora and Nentis above.
Shine well ye stars, and let this project find
Your influences to a lover kind.
Nen.
See Madam, he is come: My Lord Tucapelo has not trespas'd on a minute.
Luc.
Then is our parting near: your new servant hath prevented your journey.
Car.
Nentis!
Luc.
Most honoured Tucapelo, I am here
In presence to give answer to my Love.
Car.
Are you ready worthiest Lady?
Luc.
I am, my Love.
Car.
Neglect your Jewels: Gamara shall supply you.
Luc.
I care for nothing if I have but you.
Car.
Descend (my Dear) each minute is an age
Until I crown my joyes with your possession.
Luc.
I come. Nentis farewell: report that my
Escape was uuto thee unknown, and that
I stole away when thou wast fast asleep:
I would not have thee blam'd for me. Excuse
Me to my father all the wayes I have
Instructed thee in.
Descendunt.
Car.
Cinthia, triumph; and let thy brother hear
[Page 376] His eyes did never witness such a stealth:
Be proud in thy pale lustre, and make known,
Apollo doth tell tales, but thou relst none.
Not yet! how tedious seems a moment!
Delayes in Love
Would raise impatience in Olympick Iove.
Enter Lucora, and Nentis.
But she is entred! welcome sweet Lucora,
Above expression welcome, my crown of joy
I would not change for an imperial Scepter.
Luc.
I am most happy in your love (dear friend)
Thanks good Nentis: My woman cannot go with's.
Car.
Then farewell Nentis.
Nen.
May the propitious heavens crown both your heads with all fair fortune.
Car.
Our thanks go with you.
Exit Nentis.
Luc.
It is your promise, Sir, that I shall live
Without contradiction in my Religion,
Enjoy my conscience freely: your vow was solemn.
Car.
I do acknowledge it, and will perform it.
—True—not to be denied, what a great frost chils my affection!
Luc.
Then Ile be confident.
Car.
You may:
I am amaz'd, and lost within a wonder.
Let me consider; have I cause to love
A Lady that hath so much neglected me,
[Page 377] That she hath prefer'd a Negro? And tis likely
(When she knowes me) will care as little for me
As ere she did, and (if she meets with one
Of this complexion I feign) conferre
Her perfect love upon the slave? Tis clear,
I have no reason to do it, neither will I;
For I am free, know liberty again:
This poor unworthiness in her hath loos'd me.
Would it not be a weakness in me (let me argue it)
To bestow my self upon a woman of
So obstinate a nature, that she lov'd me less
When she believ'd that for her sake I had
Done violence upon my self? It would be
A matchless one, beyond example, and which
Future times would admire, but not parallel.
Luc.
Come, shall we hence? delay is dangerous.
Car.
No; be it what it will.
Luc.
VVe must not stay here long.
Car.
Nor will we.
Luc.
Alas! what ailes my noble Tucapelo?
You had not wont to answer me so slightly.
Do you not love me still?
Car.
No.
Luc.
The heavens forbid! I am Lucora.
Car.
I do confess you are, but must deny
I love you.
Luc.
I could endure your Sword with better ease:
Us't, and revenge what ignorant ill I have
Committed against you. I had rather dye
By your dear hand, then to return from hence
[Page 378] With this strong poyson in my breast.
Car.
Kill you!
Lady, I would not do it to obtain
The Soveraignty of the Sea-parted Earth▪
Live many years in happiness: I wish it
With all my soul, else may I dye unwept for.
But give me leave to leave you, and bestow
Laughter, not tears for my inconstancy.
Think me unworthy of your worthy self;
For I cannot love you, nor will marry you.
Luc.
Surely you will. Have you a cause to be
So merciless unto a passionate Lady,
One that so truly wonders at your worths?
I pray you (Sir) jest not so solemnly:
Thunder is Musick in my ears to this.
Car.
I do not: credit me (most fair Lucora)
I am in earnest, nor would I spend the time
In words. Shall I call Nentis?
Luc.
Rather call Basiliskes to look me dead
Then her, to help to mourn your unkind parting.
O! do not thus: wherein am I deform'd
So suddenly, that you so soon should leave me?
Car.
This is a trouble to your self: you cannot
Speak words enough to make me yours.
Luc.
Can I not speak sufficiently! Then I
Will try if there be Magick in my knees:
Look (Sir) a Lady kneels to you for love, She kneels.
To whom the noblest in the Realm have su'd.
Car.
All is in vain.
Luc.
Thou man (that art more lasting in thy fury
[Page 379] Then the Egyptian wonder through the stormes
Of many bleak tempestuous winters)
Say worthless man, if it becomes thee well
To let a loving Lady kneel to thee,
And thou be merciless and not raise her [...]p.
Car.
I pray you rise.
Luc.
And will you then be reconcil'd unto me?
Car.
No I cannot.
Luc.
Then I will turn a Statue.
Car.
I pray you leave me and forget me ever:
Henceforth you shall not see me any more,
Luc.
Not see you any more!
O faithless man and full of perjuries!
Thy nature is transparent, thou art false
As is the smooth-fac'd Sea, which every wind
Disturbes; a false Barbarian, and born under
Deceitful Mercury. A Britain would
Rather have died then thus have wronged me:
Thou art inhumane, and mayest boast the conquest.
Tell your most salvage countrey-men this Act,
(If the just God of Seas revenge me not)
And number it 'mongst your proud cruelties.
Car.
Be pacifi'd: I pray you leave this rage.
Luc.
When I am dead I shall, and not before,
And that shall not be long; For thou shalt see me,
Merciless man thou shalt, and adde that to
Thy bloody conquests; boast how a slighted Lady▪
For thy unkindness made her self away.
This hand (wherewith I would have given my self
Offers to kill her self.
[Page 380] To thee) shall take me from my misery.
Car.
Hold: I am Carionil.
Luc.
How! say that again.
Car.
I am Carionil.
Luc.
That breath hath rais'd me, and made me my self.
Car.
I counterfeited the Negro to obtain you,
The wished period of my griefes; and might,
But will not love that woman that shall scorn
All my endeavours, and entertain a stranger,
An Ethiopian, and prefer him, no:
Judg (fair Lucora) if I have not cause.
Luc.
Yes, yes you have: But now you do not need
More of your Rhetorick to disswade me from you.
There are not in the world temptations
Can make me yours: I cannot give a reason,
Tis in my nature, and a secret one.
Car.
I am glad it is so.
Luc.
This is the happiest hour
My life did ever pass, and quickly chang'd.
Car.
I rejoyce at the alteration: Madam, you shall
Command me to do any thing but marry you.
Luc.
Then I command you never move me more.
Car.
I will obey you.
Luc.
Now you may call Nentis:
She is not yet in bed; I see a light yet.
Car.
Most willingly.
Nentis, Nentis.
Enter Nentis above.
Nen.
What's the matter, marle.
Luc.
[Page 381]Come down.
Nen.
I wonder much: I come (Madam.)
Descendit.
Luc.
You will be secret, Sir, of what hath past?
Car.
You may be confident I will.
Luc.
I else shall suffer much in my honour.
Women! take heed: the men whom you deny
May win you to be theirs by Policy:
They Proteus-like will vary shapes, until
Beyond their wishes they have plac'd their will.
Enter Nentis.
Car.
Your woman's come: Good night.
Luc.
Good night (Sir)
Exit Carionil.
Nentis, I now will never pass the Seas:
Tucapelo is become Carionil.
Nen.
Amazement ceaseth me!
Luc.
Anon thou shalt know all.
Nen.
I hope that now you will be rul'd by your friends, and take the Lord Falorus to your husband.
Luc.
Hang husbands!
Nen.
The Gods bless them all I say, and send me a good one.
Luc.
Let's to bed: lock the door after you.
Exeunt Ambae.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Cleanthe sola.
Cle.
How joy fully the birds salute the morn,
Warbling a welcome from their gentle throats!
But I am of another mind (poor maid!)
[Page 382] Aurora doth no sooner blush upon
The world, but I make my complaints afresh.
I am in love, and for my wretched State
Can blame no body but sinister Fate.
Enter Carionil.
Car.
Well met (Anclethe) I will hide no longer
My self in this disguise. Again thou shalt
Be my Anclethe: wilt thou be my Boy,
And sing me songs, as thou hadst wont to do?
Cle.
You have obtain'd your Mistris I see, my Lord.
Car.
I have not (boy) nor will I seek her more:
Some other time thou shalt receive the story.
Cle.
My hour is come: dear Cupid be my aid.
And will you never have another Sir?
Car.
I do not know Anclethe, but if I have,
She must not be so obstinate as this.
Cle.
But say a Lady of a noble house
(One that is not unhandsom) were in love
With you, did love you violently (my Lord)
Would you not pity her, but be unkind?
Car.
Boy, I do know what tis to love in vain
So well, and what a misery is in it,
That if she were but reasonably well,
She should not grieve for me, indeed she should not.
Cle.
You are most noble: old Philosophy
Never defin'd a virtue which you want.
There is a Lady Sir, and not ill-favour'd,
Born of an ancient honourd family,
So much in love with you, that if you do
Refuse her (my Lord) you do deny her life.
Car.
[Page 383]What is she cal'd Anclethe?
Cle.
My Lord, my Commission doth not reach so farre;
She'd have her name conceal'd until y'ave seen her.
Tomorrow morning you may meet her here:
She with a gentleman (a friend of hers)
VVill here expect you about ten a clock.
Car.
VVell, I will see her (boy) and if I find
Her answer thy report, I will be kind.
He that neglects a loving Lady for
VVeak causes, may the Gods that man abhorre.
Exeunt Ambo.
Finis Actus quarti.
Actus quinti, Scena prima.
A Banquet set forth: Then enter Polidacre, Antiphila, Servants and M [...]sitians.
Pol.
YOu will pardon a sudden entertainment.
Ant.
I hope we need not complement.
Pol.
You do instruct me.
Sit down (my sweet Antiphila) and taste.
Fill wine:
All health and happiness to you (dear Mistris.)
Ant.
A true return of loyal thanks.
Pol.
Play a more merry tune: I do abhor
What ever relisheth of melancholy.
Sing, the spheres are dull—
Apply it to your self that best deserve it.
The Spheres are dull, and do not make
Such Musick as my ears will take:
The slighted Birds may cease to sing,
Their chirpings do not grace the spring:
The Nightingal is sad in vain,
I care not to hear her complain:
While I have ears and you a tongue,
I shall think all things else go wrong.
2.
The Poets feign'd that Orpheus could
Make stones to follow where he would:
[Page 385] They feign'd indeed, but (had they known
Your voice) a truth they might have shown.
All instruments most sadly go,
Because your tongue excels them so:
While I have ears, and you a tongue,
I shall think all things else go wrong.
Ant.
Tis pretty.
Pol.
Reiterate again your yielding, Lady,
And once more let your breath perfume those words.
Ant.
Sir, I am yours.
Pol.
And I my fair Antiphila's, your tongue
Hath made me happy.
Ant.
May your joy last long.
Exeunt omnes
Scena secunda.
Enter Philander and Rosinda in womens apparel.
Phi.
How glad I am to see you like your self!
Dear mother; pardon an excess of joy.
Ros.
Such signes of true affection need no pardon.
Enter a servant.
Ser.
Sir, here's a Letter for you.
Phi.
For me! from whom? the hand resolves me;
Present my service to the Lady that sent it.
Tell her, ere long I will come kiss her hands.
Ser.
I will Sir.
Exit servus.
Phi.
[Page 386]Mother, I writ unto Antiphila,
And did desire her (for guerdon of my love)
To hold me second in her thoughts, and (if
She married not my father) to have me.
Ros.
She may perform
What she believ'd would never come to pass.
The Letter.
SIR, I confess I am not contracted, and that I told you so to make you desist. I should be exceeding ungrateful to deny you so small a request. There is nothing hinders me from being yours, but your Father: And I solemnly vow unto you, that (if I have not him) you shall have me. But let not this beget any hope in you; ▪for (if I be not his) it shall be his refusal. Let it onely manifest so much, that (had I never seen him) I could have lov'd you most truly. I pray you, let this suffice, and use me so. Choose another Mistris, and let me be her second: You will love me well enough, if you love another better. Farewell.
Your Fathers Antiphila.
Ros.
What writ you to her (Son) concerning her
Pro [...]ssing a contract betwixt us two?
[...] my rage I met with Tandorix,
[...] him of his life;
[...] he was a woman▪
[Page 387] And for a Gentleman cal'd Perimont,
(Who often had deni'd to marry her)
That habit did assume, thereby to learn
More easily what did prevent her joy,
And whether he affected any other.
Thus I your being kept unknown.
Rosin.
I'me gald you did so.
Phi.
You do well, Mother, to wear a mask: you shall
Thereby be sure to be conceal'd untill
You find the fittest opportunity
Your self (unto my Father) to reveal.
Exeunt Am [...] ▪
Scena Tertia.
Enter Falorus solus.
Fal.
What will become of me (unfortunate man)
Who needs must live in fire▪ or live in shame?
I know not what to speak nor what to do,
Both fear and grief do so confound my sences▪
I fear to wrong Carionil so much
As to be traiterous against our friendship;
And griefs unsufferable endure for the
Fairest of Ladies, incomparable Lucora:
I would she had been kind unto my friend,
Unto him then I never had prov'd false;
Nor will I: I will rather search out frozen
Climates, and lie whole nights on hills of Ice,
Or rather will take powerfull potions, and sleep
[Page 388] Out those unpleasant houres I have to live;
But then I shall not see that beauty: who
But senceless frantickes would have thoughts so poor?
My reason forsakes the government of this
Weak frame, and I am falne into disorder.
Oh! I could sigh my body into air,
And weep't into a Lake, if merciless nature
Had made it of a substance suitable
Unto my wish now: methinks I could level
A Promontory into a Province, and tread
The centre through to read the destinies
Of southern stars, and bless their fortunes that
Are born under their light; for (I am confident)
Their influences are more mild then ours.
There is no other Fate can fall on me
Shall awe me now; I will be proud and daring
As the ambitious waves, when wrathful blasts
Of Northern windes do hoist them violently
Against the highest cloudes, and rather will
Destroy my self then wrong Carionil.
Exit Falorus.
Scena quarta.
Enter Cleanthe in womans apparel, and Phygionis.
Cle.
And serv'd my sister well to leave her so.
Phy.
How much (dear Madam) have you impoverished
Mens cies, by hiding your perfections
In their apparel? indeed I flatter not,
[Page 389] I do not know the Lady owns so much beauty.
Cle.
If my Carionil will like me, then
I shall attain the end of my desires:
May I appear but lovely in his eye,
And what I seem in others I will slight.
But (good Phygionis) tell me I prethee
In your affection what success you have.
Is Nentis won, or do you hope she will?
Phy.
She's mine, we are contracted.
Cle.
Joy wait on you,
And make your lives of many years pass pleasant.
Is it not ten? are all the clocks grown envious
Against my bliss, and will not let me know
How nigh his coming is? for I esteem
My self most happy in his company.
Enter Carionil like himself.
Car.
This is the place Anclethe nam'd.
Phy.
Madam he's here.
Cle.
Be friend me my good stars!
Car.
Here is a Lady and a matchless one!
Wood two years since I had beheld this beauty,
When first I came from Spain and had my heart free,
Then many a sad day had been merry unto me,
For unto her Lucora should have yielded.
Sweet Lady, you that are the fairest creature
Nature did ever form, vouchsafe so much
Of happiness unto me as to give
Me liberty to touch your lips—do you
Kisses her.
Know me? and have your ears ere heard
[Page 390] So poor a name as is Carionil?
But I am much mistook; you are not she
Whom here I was to meet: I needs must doubt
The fates did not intend me such a joy.
Cle.
I am.
Car.
Deceiv'd Pythagoras! hadst thou but dream't
The sweetness of this voice, the musick of
The Spheres thou never hadst recorded. Speak,
Fairest and best of Ladies, let me hear
If you have so unmatch'd a pity in you
As to look on me with a friendly eye.
Can you love me?
Cle.
Most noble Sir, I do most violently.
Car.
If that to live with you detain'd me not,
I should be griev'd that my joy for so great
A fortune did not stupifie my senses,
And cast me into an eternal sleep.
Where is Anclethe? he is much to blame
In not attending you.
Cle.
Whom speak you of dear Sir?
Car.
My boy.
Cle.
I do not know a boy of that name truly:
Nor (I think) is there.
Car.
You do amaze me.
Cle.
You may believe me, Sir, for I am he.
Car.
Wonders in Riddles!
Cle.
I am your Page Anclethe, and sister to
Lucora, who for love attended you
Disguis'd, because (I found) for the great enmity
Between our families) my father never
[Page 391] Would give me where I would bestow my self.
Car.
Your Nurse did steal you when you was a child?
Cle.
Most true: This gentleman her son, my friend,
Occasioned my escape, by giving me
A knowledge of my birth. His true relation
Can vindicate me from suspicion.
Car.
I need it not:
Were you not she (as I believe you are)
And mean of birth, I should account my self
A gainer by you. Sir, you have done that
Hath plac'd you in my heart among those friends
For whose sakes I my life will sacrifice.
Phi.
My Lord, you do indebt me to your service:
In your acquaintance I shall be most honour'd.
Cle.
Sir, if you please he will relate my Story.
Car.
By no means: keep it for your father, when
You do disclose your self. But can you pardon
Those incivilities I did commit
When you was Anclethe?
Cle.
Wrong not your self: you did make more of me
Then I deserv'd, or could.
Car.
But why, my sweet Cleanthe, would you not
Let me know who you was before?
Cle.
Dear Sir, I saw how violent you was
In your affection to my careless sister,
And had no hope you would leave her for me:
And (if you did obtain her) meant to do
What my disastrous fate should prompt me to.
Car.
Sweetest of all your sex.
Cle.
[Page 392]But (if you never got her, and orecame
Her obstinacy) to declare my self;
If not (but Love had triumph'd in your fall)
I'de not have liv'd to see your Funeral.
Car.
The Gods requite this goodness, and make me worthy
Of you, my dear Cleanthe; I contract
My self upon your lips: which we will perfect
Ere you own publikely your Father, for
The enmity will make him charge you otherwise.
Cle.
I pray you let us.
Car.
A thousand thanks, come shall we walk (fair Mistress)?
Cle.
Conclusions fair the fates to them do give
Who constant in their loves, and faithful live.
Enter Falorus.
Car.
Stay, dear Cleanthe, here is my friend, he shall
Partake my joy; well met my best Falorus.
Fal.
It seems you are not Tucapelo now:
Where is Lucora? have you married her?
Car.
No, I have not, friend.
Fal.
Refrain:
I am your enemy, embrace me not,
Receive my sword, and peace this heart (Carionil.) Gives his sword.
Car.
He hath not yet descri'd you:
Withdraw a little (dear Mistress) Sir, I pray you
To bear her company, for who can tell
What in this phrensie he may do?
Exeunt Cle. Phy.
Cle.
Hereabouts we will await your leisure.
Car.
[Page 393]What ailes my friend? let me but know the man
Is cause of this disorder in you, and
He shall not see the gray-ey'd morning break
From th' oriental Mountains any more:
Let me partake of that unwieldy grief
Hath bowd my friend so much beneath himself.
Fal.
Leave complements Carionil, and make
A passage for my soul, that it may leave
So vile a habitation as this body;
And (when I'me dead) rip out my heart and in't
Survey my fault, for I want words, and have
Not impudence enough to tell it you.
Car.
O what might be the cause this matchless frame
And worthiest Cabinet that ever man
Inclos'd his secrets in, is so disturb'd!
Noble Falorus, think to whom you speak,
It is Carionil, whose life you do
Make burthenous to him by the suspicion
Of wronging him whom you have ever lov'd.
Fal.
You do deceive your self; I lately have
Transgres'd against our league of amity:
If you desire to be a happy man,
And to enjoy what most you seek, be kind
Unto your self, and run my body through.
Car.
Can I be happy and Falorus dead!
No, I should live a desolater life
Then ere the strictest Anchorite hath done,
And wear my body to an Anatome,
For real sorrow at such a dire mishap:
Live then (my friend) and may you number daies
[Page 394] Until Arithmetick grow faint, and leave you.
Fal.
You know not how much hurt you wish your self.
Would you torment me twice? If not, forget
Falorus utterly, and let me dye.
Car.
I understand you not.
Fal.
Would you have me blast my own fame by speaking
My fault? And have me Executioner
Unto my self?
Car.
Release your Soul of all her griefes, and say
From whence your sorrows have original.
Have you not oft told me of my impatiency?
Give me now leave to be as plain with you:
The angry winds never enrag'd the seas
So much as some small grief hath done my friend.
I do conjure you by our former loves
(For sure not long since we were friends indeed)
To let me know why you are thus distemper'd:
I do not fear but I shall free you from
This passion so precipitate and dangerous.
Fal.
You are most good, and get your self, Carionil,
A name above the ablest character,
None (like it) can decipher you; and would
I alwayes had continued Falorus,
Then I yet had remain'd your friend. But (if
You needs will know the reason of my fury)
Draw out the sword, that (when you have receiv'd it)
Your hand, and not your words may strike me dead.
Car.
Be not importun'd longer; ease your heart:
[Page 395] For (credit me) I grieve to see you thus.
Fal.
I am in love, suppose the rest, and kill me.
Car.
VVith Lucora?
Fal.
Too true, now curse me into dust, and with
Your breath disperse me into aire: but spare me,
Chide me not for my falshood, and inflict
But one punishment on me, and be that the sword;
Yet hear me speak one word or two before.
I have not woo'd her, nor have sought performance
Of that free promise that her father made me,
But faithfully have temporiz'd with him;
Nor did I willingly consent unto
This passion, it did seise me violently.
Car.
Be you more calme, take her (Falorus) you have
A liberty for me, I speak in earnest.
Fal.
Then all is well, return my sword (dear friend)
Carionil, I will not hinder thee:
Gives him his sword.
My name shall not be blasted in thy sighes;
Fall worthless man, tis pity I should live.
Offers to kill himself.
Car.
VVhat mean you (my Falorus?) for heavens sake leave,
And your own light rashly extinguish not:
I for Lucora do not care, and have
All my affection unto her recal'd,
And am engag'd unto another Lady;
I stole her from her chamber in my disguise,
And then (bethinking me how she had us'd me)
I told her that I would not have a Lady
VVho would prefer a Moor before me. Her
[Page 396] Slighting of me made me to leave her so.
Fal.
Is this not policy to delay my death?
Car.
If ere you found me false, believe me not.
Fal.
It then is true?
Car.
Most true, Falorus.
Fal.
Licence me (friend) now to embrace you; well met
(Carionil) and welcomer indeed
Then ever yet man was unto me: I
Will live and owe my life unto you, and (when
You please) I for your sake will lay it down:
Freely I may Lucora now adore;
And (rather then to lose her) I will try
All waies that are contain'd in policie.
Car.
But say she never will consent?
Fal.
I am
Most confident she will to please her Father:
But (if she should not) I could suffer it;
'Twas not my Love made me thus passionate,
It was because in it I wronged you.
Car.
Did you not marke (when you did see me first)
A joy unusual sit upon my brow?
Fal.
I had so much of sorrow in my heart,
That with it all my sences were possest.
Car.
But you perceiv'd I had left my disguise;
What out of it did you collect?
Fal.
I thought
Lucora had descri'd you, and you had
A peremptory denial to your suit.
Enter Cleanthe and Phyginois.
Cle.
Sir, seeing you had made a fair conclusion,
[Page] And measuring each minute for an hour
Until I were with you, I rudely come
Uncal'd for to you.
Car.
Ever most welcome my Cleanthe; friend,
This is the Lady I did mention to you,
She was Anclethe, b [...]t is sister to
The Mistress of you [...] thoughts, and cal'd Cleanthe,
Whom long since all her friends believed lost,
And have these many years left mourning for.
Fal.
A strange discovery and admirable!
Car.
Some other time command the history;
This mutually among our selves we'l spend.
Fal.
Lady, account me servant to your vertues,
And you, Sir, may command Falorus alwaies.
Phy.
Your love will honour me (most noble Lord.)
Cle.
Sir, I for you will intercession make
Unto my sister, and do hope shall prosper:
I will make known how much you are her servant,
And what affection my ears have witnessed;
For I (unseen to you) did hear what pass'd.
Fal.
You will oblige me everlastingly.
Car.
Now let us walk.
Fal.
Whosoever loyal friendship doth regard,
With fair events the Gods will him reward.
Exeunt omnes.
Scena quinta.
Enter Iaques solus.
Iaq.
I have a Licence for my Lady, & the brave gallant Mistress Lorece, But it cost too much a conscience, [Page 398] I wood a writ five times as much for halfe I gave for it: But t'is the fashion among great ones, so they have their wills they care not at how dear a rate they buy them. This marriage is like Christmas, when it comes it brings good cheer with't, we have fat Venison, hold belly hold: and wine I am sure we shall want none, for the Vintner had twenty pounds on me this morning. I ha bespoke a merry company of Fidlers; O they are boon fellows! and there will be old dancing, for I mean to sweat my doublet quite through ere I leave.
Enter Lorece and Vandona.
Madam, her'es the License your Worships sent me for, the Parson and this will make all sure.
Lor.
Tis well done Iaques, for this, be thou the Neptune of the Cellar, raise a tempest, and drown who ever doth go down the staires;
Like old Silenus behave thy self.
Van.
When we have din'd, lets go to my Lord Polidacres, and invite that house.
Lor.
We will (my dear Widow.)
Iaq.
Twill be a merry time I see.
Exeunt Omnes.
Scena sexta.
Enter Polidacre, Lucora, Antiphila, and Nentis.
Ant.
I wonder we have not seen the Ethiopian Lord to day.
Pol.
He'l not be long absent.
[Page 399] Lucora, thou hast my heart for thy consent:
Falorus is a worthy Gentleman,
And one of an approved fashion,
He doth deserve a Princess; my Lucora,
I know his nature is most noble, else
I would not move thee for him, and (although
The time is not expir'd) will you steal
So much from age, and be his wife? I long
To see thee well bestow'd.
Luc.
VVhat ere you please t'command I will perform.
Enter Falorus.
Pol.
Here is Falorus! welcome my Lord, I shall
Shortly say my son; my daughter I have won,
And when I please, unto you she will give
Away herself.
Fal.
You are most noble:
But can you (fairest Lady) look so low
As is Falorus? can there be such a vertue
Of rare humility within you, that
You thus confer affection upon me?
Luc.
My Lord, my father desires to make me yours;
And I have learnt so much obedience,
As willingly to do what he commands.
Fal.
I wish I could (most excellent Lucora)
Thanke you in all the languages are worth
Your dear attention, you have made me so
Exceeding happy, I envy not his wealth
That ownes the inhaustible mines of fam'd Peru.
Luco.
I thank you for this love, and have a hope
[Page 400] Requite you Sir.
Fal.
My joy hath dul'd my senses.
Enter Lorece, Vandona, and Jaques.
Lor.
Now brother! have I not ended happily?
Vandona is my own: We onely want
The ceremony Eclesiastical.
My Lord, I am your servant.
Fal.
I have a Mistris got, the richest beauty
Great Brittain ever was renowned for.
Lor.
Much, very much y faith; have you won her
For whom hopeful Carionil did dye?
Fal.
I won her not (Lorece) her fathers desire
Meeting with her consent, have made her mine.
Van.
Sister, you have been a stranger to me, I pray you be not so.
Nen.
You shall see me oftner.
Lor.
Thou maist be Mercury, and I will glory
Thou art my brother.
Van.
Madam, I'm very glad to meet you here.
Ant.
And I as joyful of your company.
Enter Carionil, Cleanthe, and Phygionis.
Lor.
Wonders▪ Carionil's alive again, and here.
Pol.
For some strange end he did give forth his death:
But what yong beauteous Ladie's that?
Luc.
It is a face worthy of admiration.
Pol.
Rise Lady: kneel not unto me.
She kneels.
Cle.
[Page 401]Then I were most unfit to be your Child.
Pol.
How▪ my daughter that was lost?
Clea.
Yes my Lord, and beg your blessing.
Pol.
May the good heavens make of thee (my daughter)
(If you be she) an old and happy woman.
Luc.
I am a Sister to you: Spare some time
For me to shew how much I do rejoyce
At this unlook'd for good: none of your kin
(Fair Sister) are more glad then I to see you,
Whom we had never hope to see: I am
Most proud to be alli'd unto
So excellent a creature as you are.
Clea.
I am most joyful of your love.
Ant.
We are most glad to see you safe.
Van.
As if you were our Sister.
Clea.
My thanks (sweet Ladies)
Pol.
Dearest Cleanthe, confirm thy father in
His joy: relate thy life, that out of it
I may grow confident thou art my daughter.
Phy.
Lady, leave that to me: My Lord (and if
You with her silence can so long dispence)
I would do that.
Clean.
He is my Nurses Son, to whom (my Lord)
I owe all thanks for my escape.
Pol.
Sir, when you please you may begin.
Nen.
What, not a gentleman! I am undone,
But must be secret in't.
—Aside,
Phy.
My Lord.
This Ladies Nurse, my mother, had a Sonne
[Page 402] Older then the Lady Cleanthe is by seven years;
Whom she did love so extraordinarily,
That for his sake she foulely er'd from vertue:
She thought it was an easie thing for her
(If that their lives attained to those years)
To make your daughter wife unto her son;
Which is the cause she privily escap'd.
Pol.
Most strange!
Phy.
By chance I heard this of my brother, who
Told me (against my mothers strict command)
What a great marriage he should have, and that
Cleanthe was the daughter of a Lord,
Your Honours child,
Whom all we thought but of a mean descent:
(For she had won the country to believe
That she did find her in the open field:)
I pittying her hard chance, did tell her all,
And promis'd her I would attend upon her,
Until she had her parents happy made
With knowledge of her safety.
Cle.
The rest I must relate:
Dear Sir, be kind, and (if I have done ought
You shall dislike) pardon my first offence;
I was no sooner come to town, but saw
This noble Gentleman, with whom so violently
I fell in love, that for his sake (pray pardon me)
My own apparel I did lay away,
And did become his Page: And (when I did
Disclose my self) he kindly did requite me.
In brief we are contracted,
[Page 403] I did not well without you to do thus;
But your forgiveness, Sir, I cannot doubt:
He told me that there was a difference
Between our families, and therefore you
(If your consent was ask'd) would never yield.
Iaq.
Wood I were it'h Cellar, I care not for these drie and tedious tales.
Pol.
Whether I should or no I cannot tell,
But I am glad that it hath chanced thus;
This match an ancient discord will conclude,
And may the Gods be favourable to it.
Car.
Most Worthy Lord, my faithful thankes.
Phy.
Here also is a ring which by
Your Father (my Lord Falorus) was given her,
When at the Font he for her answer'd;
She wo'rt about her neck when she was stolne.
Pol.
I know it well, and am confident
Thou art my lost Cleanthe: Be his wife,
And may the heavens make up the match most fortunate.
Carionil, I now am glad I have
A man so honour'd to my son in law.
Car.
My Lord (if that I can perform my will)
You never shall repent your daughters choice.
Pol.
I do not doubt I shall. Now I would know
Why your death was reported.
Car.
I was in love long which your eldest daughter▪
The fair Lucora, but could never win her;
Brought almost to despair I did assume
The habit and colour of a Negro.
Pol.
Then you was Tucapelo.
Car.
[Page 404]I was indeed▪
Knowing she had refus'd the greatest Marriages,
And many of the handsomest of the Kingdome,
I fully did believe she never would
Like any man of this Complexion,
And therefore feign'd my self an Ethiopian.
But first gave out my death, and that unto
My self I had done violence, for her.
Luc.
Surely, he will not do so unworthily
As to make mention of my fond affection.
A side.
Car.
But all could not prevail.
Luco.
I am glad he ends so.
—A side.
Cario.
And therefore I desisted wholly: which when
Anclethe saw (my sweet Cleanthe now)
She did disclose her self.
Polid.
I do perceive the Heavens intended you
Should reconcile our Families.
Iaq.
Her's love, and love agen: I wood some body would love me.
Luco.
My dear Sister, you must not think me rude
Because I do express my love so fully.
Poli.
Be my Carionil;
All that [...]e mine respect this Lady: For
I do intend to make her so.
Car.
We are her Servants, and most joyfully
Shall kneel unto a Lady of her vertues.
Enter Philander, and Rosinda.
Fal.
What Lady's that?
Car.
[Page 405]She's masked, and I cannot guess.
Pol.
Philander, this Lady is thy Sister, the lost
Phi.
Grow not to weak, my body, to contain (Cleanthe.
My soul within thee at these joyes:
Fair Sister, I am glad that I can name
So beauteous a Lady as you are so;
For you the heavens be thanked.
Pol.
Carionil's alive, and must be styl'd your brother,
Cleanthe him hath chose:
Perfect thy joyes (Philander) when thou wilt,
And hear their Histories;
This Lady you must call mother.
Phil.
But I must not.
Poli.
How!
Phil.
This here I will;
Dear mother, now confirm my words.
Unmaskes.
Poli.
Welcome to life Rosinda: Thy face and beauty
I do remember well: But wherefore did you
Raise the report of your untimely death?
Rosin.
That at a fitter time. This give me leave
To spend in joy.
My dear Cleanthe (for I do believe
Because thy father doth acknowledge thee,
Thou art Cleanthe my so long lost daughter)
Never was mothers heart so light; I cannot
Utter my joyes, my tears must witness them.
To time I am indebted, that he hath
Spared my life untill I see thee safe.
Cle.
I want expression: But my life shall be
A comment on my heart, wherein you shall
[Page 406] Perceive what your Cleanthe is.
Phil.
Now you are mine (fair Antiphila.)
Ant.
I will perform my promise.
Phil.
Both your consents I begge.
Polid.
How's this!
Anti.
I did engage my self,
That (if I were not yours) I would be his.
Pol.
Then may the knot prove happy, and continue
A firm one, while the Gods do lend you breath.
Ros.
It is my wish.
Pol.
Was you her servant too? Wife, chide me in secrer, I was forsworn.
Ros.
We all are frail; Mortality may boast
Of strength, but many conclusions deny it.
Nen.
Away, I will have none of you, I will not begge.
Pol.
You shall not need, I (for his love and care
Unto my daughter) will give him means befitting
A Gentleman, which shall descend unto
His posterity, poverty shall not spoil his fortune.
Vandon.
'Tis nobly said, If you do like him, take him sister.
Ment.
Now I'm content.
Phyg.
My joy is great: My thanks (sweet Mistriss) My Lord Polidacre, I am your grateful, though unworthiest servant. Now, Mistriss, you shall know the policy I won your affections with; my affections being setled so high, and I poor, I made my self Draculemion; But your promise, worthiest Lord hath now enriched me.
Iaq.
O me! Was you that merry fellow? you have a parlous wit.
Phyg.
[Page 407]One thing I must crave of you.
Polid.
You shall obtain Sir.
Phyg.
That you will pardon my Mother.
Polid.
I do for your sake.
Luco.
Since I perceive you in the bounteous way
Of granting Boons, Sir, I assume the boldness
To become a Petitioner to you.
Polid.
My dear Lucora freely ask, for I
Doubtlessely shall consent to thy demand.
Luco.
Seeing the gracious Heavens have blessed our house
With the recovery of my long lost Sister;
And since the powers divine have link'd her heart
To the affections of a noble Gentleman,
A marriage like to grace your honour'd Age
With hopeful Nephews; I humbly crave your licence
To enjoy the freedom of a single life;
For I've no inclination to become
A subject unto Hymens glorious bondage.
Polid.
Remember (my Lucora) all your promises,
And suffer not your obstinacy to cloud
The happiness of this Evening.
Falor.
My excellent Mistris, you have rais'd me neer
The Zenith of all happiness, and will you
Now leave me on that mighty precipice,
To fall into a sad Abyss of misery?
Clean.
My dear sweet Sister, give me leave to trouble you
With a few words aside;
I saw the Lord Falorus for your sake
(Between a great affection and firme friendship)
In as high a passion as you can imagine.
[Page 408] A noble and a faithful Lover to you;
He in his soul adores you, I am confident;
And I'm obliged by promise to become
His Intercessor for your kind affection:
I do beseech you therefore grace your Sister
(Though bold, being younger, to importune you thus)
T'honor the Lord Falorus with your Love.
Lucor.
I dare not (my fair sister) be so cruel
As to deny you in your first request;
I'le entertain his flame and be his Bride.
I will be plain with you, had you been silent,
In a ship bound for Spain I had gone to night
With some Ladies of our neer kindred towards Lisbone,
And so avoided the Courtship of Falorus,
And all my Fathers continual importunities.
To make this escape more unexpected, and
The better to provide me for this journey,
I had consented when my father pleas'd
To marry him; but your intreaties have
Prevail'd above all my resolutions.
Falor.
Dear Madam, let me beseech your assistance.
Rosin.
My Lord, I will desire her, and am confident
I▪ shall obtain. I pray thee (my Lucora)
Submit to the intreaties of thy friends,
And let not thy refusal of Falorus
Beget a sad look on this happy evening.
Lucor.
Madam, you and my sister shall overcome;
And though (my Lord Falorus) you may taxe me
For an obstinate disposition, you shall find me
[Page 409] Throughout my future dayes) to made amends,
And prove a very loving wife unto you.
Falor.
Now you have fixed me in a fortunate
And glorious life.
Polid.
I thank thee my Lucora.
Iaq.
Every body has his Sweetheart but I; one or other take pity on me, and let me not be a Cypher and stand here for nothing. I see the fault is in my years, otherwise Serving-men are not so slighted by Ladies.
To the Spectator Ladies.
Polid.
Let us withdraw; you all
Shall suppe with me to night, and we'l design
The happy day that shall each couple joyn.
Cario.
You that have Mistrisses, do not despair
To get them, be they nere so proud and fair;
One way or other (you have seen it done)
The Obstinatest Lady may be wone.
Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.
The EPILOGUE.
Lucora.
THe obstinate Lady yet is obstinate,
And (careless either of your love or hate)
She dares continue so: Nor will I beg
Some friend within to come with his low leg,
And's hat in's hand to woe your praise: It is
So poor, that I had rather hear you hiss.
Our Poet bad's be bold, For's Play was good,
And that t'would take, if it was understood;
And so we are: For what's our fate we must
And will endure, be't lawful, or unjust.
Unto your justice we appeal, which lies
Within your hands: Do what you please, and rise,
Cleanth.
O sister! This is likely to spoil all:
Gentle Spectators, also give me leave.
Ladies and Gentlemen, if we have said
Ought that hath pleas'd your ears, or pastime made▪
Our time we have spent well▪ but if that we
Have tedious been, and you did sit and see
With we ariness, our Poet will repent
That you this Comedy we did present.
Y'ave paid the Actors wel, we thank you & know it,
And wish that you would gratifie our Poet▪
He wants no money as the case now stands,
Yet [...]rayes you to be liberal of your hands.
FINIS.
Trappolin creduto Principe. OR TRAPPOLIN Suppos'd a Prince. An Italian TRAGE-COMEDY. The scene part of Italy. Written by Sir ASTON COKAIN.
LONDON Printed by WILLIAM GODBID 1658.
The Actors names.
| Lavinio. | The great Duke of Tuskany. |
| [...]forza. | The Duke of Milain. |
| Horatio. | Son of the Duke of Savoy. |
| Two noble Florentines. |
| Mattemores. | A Spanish Captain. |
| Trappolin. | Suppos'd a Prince. |
| Mago. | A Conjurer. |
| Pucannello. | A Jaylour. |
| Bulflesh. | A Butcher. |
| Calfshead. | A Puritan. |
| Barne. | A Farmer. |
| Tiler. | A poor workman. |
| Whip. | A Coachman. |
| A Notary. | |
| A Guard. | |
| Officers. | |
| Attendants. | |
| Eo, Meo and Areo. | Divels. |
| Hymen, Luna, Mars, Mercury, Iupiter, Venus, Saturn, Sol: | Maskers. |
| Isabella. | Wife to Lavinio. |
| Hortentia. | Wife to Sforza. |
| Prudentia. | Horatio's Mistress. |
| Hipolita. | The Captains Mistress. |
| Flametta. | Trappolines sweetheart. |
| Mrs. Fine. | A Plaintiff. |
The PROLOGUE.
GAllants, be't known as yet we cannot say
To whom you are beholding for this pla [...];
But this our Poet hath licens'd us to tell,
Ingenious Italy hath lik'd it well:
Yet is it no translation; for he nere
But twice in Venice did it ever hear▪
There it did take, and he doth hope (if you
Have your old humors) it will please here too
He swears he hath not spoil'd it, and protest
We think it good, though he doth none ot'h best
You often have heard worse it'h house before,
And had we made the Prologue wee'd say more
That labour he hath sav'd us, cause he wood
No partial friend should crie it up for good;
An excellent new Comedy as you say,
When you have seen't, he so will judge his pla [...]
He is not peremptory, like to some
Who think that all is best from them doth come
Ladies and Gentlemen, you that do know
To censure rightly as you think so do:
Our Poet scornes to beg your hands, yet saith,
That at the end if he the favour hath,
This shall not be his last, that he'l endeavou [...]
To gratifie you shortly with another:
How ere it takes, he for your presence sends
His thankes by me, and hopes we shall par [...] friends.
Trappolin suppos'd a Prince.
Actus primus & scena prima.
Enter Trappolin solus.
MY wench Flametta is a dear rogue, the pretty fool dotes on me; my Lord Barbarin can do nothing with her; his pistols and jewels she cares not for. And tis a handsome thing: no Pomatum ere toucht her lips, or painted her cheeks, yet are they cherries and roses; I am most happy to be what I am, and to have the love of such a one as she.
Enter Flametta.
Flam.
Good morrow Trappolin, how does my Love?
Trap.
First let us kiss, and after I will tell,
For ever thine Flametta.
Flam.
O thanks my dear.
[Page 416] Enter Barbarino.
Bar.
The villain Trappolin has a handsome wench, and (which angers me) an honest one; I have spent many weeks about her, but could never do any good, she will not neither for love or money; and see where they are a talking together.
Trap.
Yonder is my Lord Barbarino.
My dear Flametta, I am your Honours servant; this free promise of thine, I can never enough thanke thee for—at your Lordships command. How happily shall we live together in marriage, both loving so well and truly? Your Honours humble slave. Let us kiss agen—your poor vassal my Lord, thus will we spend our daies in these delights; so will we kiss Flametta—I beseech your Honour to pardon me: we nere will be a weary of our selves, if thou dost sigh, thy Trappolin will weep,—your Honour shall command me alwaies; and when thou singst thy Trappolin will dance.
Flam.
And I am thine my honest Trappolin,
And ever will be constant unto thee.
Trap.
I'le attend your Honour presently.
Flam.
There's no man alive shall make me prove
Unfaithful unto thee, so much I love.
Trap.
Your Lordship must pardon me a little,
I am something busie.
Flam.
My Trappolin shall not bestow a kiss,
But I will pay it him with usury;
[Page 417] It is impossible for thee to be
More thy Flametta's then Flametta's thine.
Trap.
I will come to your Honour presently.
Flam.
Pardon Sweetheart that now I must be gone,
My stay another time shall make amends:
A kiss my dear, my lovely Trappolin;
With such I shall be never satisfied.
Exit.
Trap.
Farewel my dear rogue; my Lord I come,
Your Honour must pardon me, you saw how I was employ'd, I could not leave the poor fool, your Lordship sees she loves me, and protest her labour is not lost: now if your Honour hath any thing to command me, I am ready Trappolino, your poor servant.
Barb.
You are a sawcy peremptory villain,
And I have well perceiv'd your base demeanor;
Although I see the wench is yours, you shall
Repent the freedome of your evil language,
Be sure you shall.
Exit.
Trap.
Good morrow my Lord,
Let him do his worst I care not a rush for him; he would ha my wench, and I am glad I abus'd him, I ha made his Honour something collerick, let him disgest it how he will.
Exit.
Enter Lavinio the great Duke, Prudentia, Barbarin, Machavil and others.
Lavin.
The Tuscane glory have we yet upheld,
And from the fierce assaults of enemies
[Page 418] Rescued our cities, set them in a peace
As happy as the Gods did ere vouchsafe.
Sforza the Duke of Milain our old friend,
Who hath in all our wars still sent us aide,
Hath promised me the matchless Isabella
His sister for my wife; and seeing now
We have no more to do with enemies,
I will to Milain go and marry her,
And quickly unto Florence will return,
Where I will celebrate our nuptial
With that magnificence becomes our state.
You, whom I ever have found faithful to me,
Lord Barbarino, and Lord Machivil,
To you I do commit the government
Of Tuscany until I return;
And full commission to do what you shall
See necessary for the good of Florence:
My dear Prudentia, the onely joy
Of our deceased Father, the last Duke,
Live happy, and enjoy thy own desires,
Which I do know are vertuous all.
Prud.
Most noble Sir, it is impossible
That I should happy be, and you not present:
But I am unworthy to beseech your stay;
Go and be fortunate in a worthy choice,
While I to heaven pray for your safe return.
Dear sweet Prudentia, and also Lords,
Look well unto my prisoner Brunetto;
Yet let him want nothing but a free release,
For sure he is more then he seems to be.
[Page 419] I have been long about this journey; now
All things are ready, my Prudentia
Farewel; and sister, be not melancholy,
For in few weeks I will return, and bring
A sister home to keep thee company,
The beauteous Milanes.
Prud.
And may she prove
According to your wishes, noble Sir.
Barb.
And be a joy unto the Florentines.
Mach.
And be a happy mother, that there may
Not want an heir unto your Highness.
Lav.
Our thanks;
Onward, tis time I were upon my way.
Exeunt.
Barba.
Now will I be reveng;d of Trappolin,
Who hath so boldly to my face abus'd me;
I have authority to do't withall,
I'le make him to repent his sawciness.
Enter Trappolin.
He's here, but I will do't as if by Justice.
Trap.
I can think of nothing but my pretty villain Flammetta; O 'tis a dear rogue, and she saies she loves me, and I know she does: when I have married her I will betake me to the country, where we will live as jovial as the day is long.—
Enter Mattemores the Spanish Captain.
Mat▪
I'le fight for Florence while I have a vein
[Page 420] To hold my heart from falling unto death;
Nor shall the Longobardy Mantuaus
Ere win a Flag while I am in the field;
I'de make the Tuscan Duke to know the man
Whom he hath trusted to conduct his troops,
Durst but Gonzaga ever stir again.
Methinks there is no nobler thing on earth,
Then to see hills of bodies, lakes of blood:
No braver Musick then the Martial Drum;
Nor Diapasons sweeter to the ear,
Then unto it the Warlike Trumpets make;
When I but hear this harmony, I could,
Full of delight, venter my single person
Against an armed Troop. Away with peace,
It is the Canker and the bane of minds;
'Tis that which makes us to forget our selves,
And spend our lives in sensuality.
Then glorious war advance thy armed arm,
That soldiers may have waies to shew themselves;
Wo'd Gothes and Vandals once again would come
Int' Italy, or Moors into our Spain,
That Mattemores might wear out his sword
With hewing bones, and cleaving armed men:
Each thing doth to his centre fall, and I
Would unto mine, which is to fight or die.
Who art thou?
Trap.
I!
Matte.
I you! what are you to good to be asked?
Trap.
I am Trappolin.
Matte.
By that I know not, art thou a man of war?
[Page 421] Is Trappolin in any Captains roll?
I'st writ?
Trap.
Yes (Seignior Captain) in the Parsons book,
The day thereof my baptisme is set down.
Mat.
And in that honour oft hast thou ere fought
With Infidels, and slain a score or two?
Trap.
Not I, Heavens be prais'd, a score or two said you Captain? then should I sure never escape, for I promise you many an one is hang'd for killing of one.
Mat.
Fie, what an ignorance is this! hast thou a mind to become now a souldier?
Trap.
Indeed, Seignior Captain, I cannot resolve you as yet, I am about a wife, Ile ask her if she will turn souldier too, and then if I like it ther's an end. But I pray you Captain what is a souldier?
Mat.
A souldier, Trappolin, is he that does
Venter his life a hundred times a day,
VVood in his countries, and his Princes cause
Stand canon shot, and wood of steeled pikes▪
VVood when his bodie's full of wounds all night,
Lie in the field and sleep upon his helm.
Trap.
Good Captain pardon me, neither I nor Flametta will be souldiers; heavens defend, venter my life so many times a day! there is more safety and gain in turning thief: I love my countrey and Prince well, but my self better; 'tis good sleeping in a whole skin, tis better lying with Flametta in a warm bed; marry I had thought a souldier had not been such a fool.
How many of them might there be in Florence, [Page 422] Sir Captain?
Mat.
Thou coward, many hundreds.
Trap.
The Gods send them more wit, thats eene all that I can say: but I pray you Sir Captain, now I think ont' [...] perswade my Father and mother, sisters and uncles, and aunts, and all the kin I have to turn souldiers, that they may be kil'd quickly and I be their heir; I swear Captain you should lose nothing by't, I would give you a good present for't.
Mat.
Base coward.
Trap.
Good Captain, what is the meaning of coward? I have often heard that word, and would fain know the true meaning of it.
Mat.
A coward is a fellow base as thou,
One that doth spend his precious time in sloth,
Cares not what alterations kingdomes have,
So he at home may welter in his pleasures;
A fellow that had rather sit all day
Drinking tobacco, and carousing cups,
Then die his sword in blood of enemies.
Trap.
VVhy then Captain, in faith I am a very coward; tis better by half then a souldier, I know there is far more pleasure in a glass of good wine and a pipe of true Varines, then in bullets whizzing about ones ears, and pikes or halberts, or what you will abeating out ones teeth.
Mat.
Thou dunghil wretch.
Trap.
Seignior Captain, be not angry, for I vow I mean earnest, I should never digest the souldiery [Page 423] life, nor am I sure wood Flametta, and the Gods help them that do.
Matte.
Thou earthen-minded slave, tis pity thou shouldest eat or drink that hast no better thoughts,
Trap.
Not as long as I pay for't; what the Devil have I to do with your souldery Sir Captain? give me leave to be of my own mind, and a Coward; for i'me sure no wise man but wood say as I do, let those follow your wars that are aweary of their lives.
Matte.
Thou art as dunghil a minded Rascal as ere I heard in my life; I would not for any thing thou wast a Spaniard, thou wouldst be a slander to the whole Nation. And Villain, I tell thee if thou wert one, I would kill thee; Mattemores would do it, and so I leave it.
Exit.
Trap.
Farewel my Sir Don, go hang your self, what have I to do with your wars tro? for nothing would I venter to fight but Flametta, and for her I durst not exceed about it fifty Cuffs, or about with a little pair of Cudgels at the most: I should never endure to shoot off a Gun, not I, the very noise of it would make me endanger my Breeches,
Enter Horatio.
Brunetto, honest Brunetto, how dost do? be merry man, this time will have an end man, and till it come be as jovial as thou canst, thou wouldst ene a ble [...] [Page 424] thy self to a seen how I vext the patience of my Lord Barbarin.
Horat.
You have not sure.
Trap.
Marry but I have, and to the purpose too.
Horat.
Then you are undone Trappolin.
Trap.
Why man?
Horat.
The Duke has left him and the Lord Machavil governours till his return,
Trap.
The Devil he has.
Horat.
Tis very true.
Trap.
Troth then I am but little better I fear.
Enter Officers.
1.
Thats he,
2.
Lay hold on him.
Trap.
Brunetto, I am und [...]n, thy Trappolin must to the Jayle, pray you my small friends give me leave to speake but one word, Remember me to my sugar-candy Flametta.
3.
Away with him.
4.
To prison with the saucy Rogue.
Exeunt.
Horat.
I came to Mantoa to ayde the Duke
My Uncle gainst his foes the Florentines,
Where hearing every man to praise the beauty
Of sweet Prudentia, the report did win me;
Being taken in the wars, I was not sad,
Because I was to go where she did live:
But seeing so many Princes all desirous▪
To marry her, I knew the great Duke never
[Page 425] Would bestow her on Savoyes second Son.
And therefore yet I have concealed my self;
Nor doth she know I am Horatio:
For want of opportunity I yet
Could nere so much as sigh within her hearing.
Enter Prudentia and Hipolita.
Hipo.
The Lady Isabella, by her picture,
May be supposed to be a matchless fair one;
Each feature of her face is wondrous good,
And her fine head of hair's a curious colour.
Prud.
In her we shall be happy all, for she
The world reports hath equal to her forme
A noble and a vertuous mind; Whose that?
Hipo.
He is your brothers prisoner, called Brunetto,
That in the wars of Mantoa was took.
Prud.
Tis a handsome man.
Hipo.
And thought by all the Court a Gentleman
Of good descent, but he hath not disclosed
His parentage to any.
Prude.
Why doth he not?
Hipol.
That no man knows yet besides himself.
Prud.
How melancholy he doth seem?
Hipo.
He hath good cause for it Madam:
Who can be merry in Captivity?
Pruden.
Tis true;
A Gentleman of good descent suppos'd,
I never saw a man of braver Carriage,
Nor one that pleas'd me better then he doth;
Aha!
Hipo.
[Page 426]Why sigh you Madam?
Prud.
To think of fortune; perhaps this prisoner
Is of a house as good as the Medices,
Hath lived before the wars of Mantua,
In all the happiness you could desire,
And now we see him thus.
Hipol.
Methinks I hear him sigh.
Prud.
And so do I.
Hipo.
He's gone.
Exit Horatio.
Prud.
But with how sad a gate?
Methinks I am not as I was before.
Hipolita.
Hip.
Madam.
Prud.
Preethee go tune my Lute, I have a mind
To sing a little, I shall forget to play
If I so seldome use it.
Hip.
I go Madam.
Exit Hipolita.
Prud.
I have sent her hence that I might search my heart,
For sure it is not as it lately was;
It is so full of thoughts, I cannot find
The free access into it I had wont:
What should the reason be, what have I don
To breed this alteration? nothing I,
Ere I came here I felt my self as free
From this strange—what it is I cannot tell,
The place is not bewitched sure, nor have
I seen ought but this hapless prisoner.
'Alas poor Gentleman, (for in his looks
And in his carriage I can guess him such)
[Page 427] How little to the fates art thou beholding
To let thee live a prisoner thus? how now!
What i'st I say, talk of Brunetto? Oh,
I am in Love, the Gods will have it so.
Exit.
Scena tertia.
Enter Barbarino, Machavil, Mattemores, and Officers leading Trappolin after them.
Barb.
This man, Lord Machavil, is one of those
That doth in Florence nourish vice, he is
A pander, one that if he sees a stranger,
Straight makes acquaintance with him, for what end
Your self may guess; so he may gain thereby
He would betray our daughters, lead our sons
To Brothels, vicious and full of rottenness.
Trap.
I wonder how the Divel he came to know any thing that I did.
Barb.
This writing yesternight was presented to me:
Here you may see what enormities he is guilty of.
Trap.
His Lordship would shew himself a great hater of bawdery.
Mach.
Tis good we did examine him.
Mat.
And there is not such a coward in Tuscany; He's able to corrupt an army.
Trap.
Seignior Captain, never fear it, for I nere mean to come into one.
Barb.
Bring him before us.
Trap.
Ah that I durst tell my Lords Excellence why [Page 428] he deals thus with me, tis for a wench, and yet how eager he is against bawdery.
Offic.
Forward Trappolin, go before their Excellencies.
Barb.
Sirra, this paper doth not onely shew
You are a rogue, your looks declare you one,
Thou hast as ill a face as ere I saw.
Trap.
And yet Flametta think'st as good as his,
I did not lie and if I said a better.
Mac.
Ere we come to his pandarisme, I'le examine him about other matters;
Sir, do you never use to carry pistols about you?
Trap.
Sometimes and please your Excellence I do.
Bar.
Write down that Notarie.
Trap.
What does your Lordship mean, I did not steal them.
Mac.
I know well enough what I do; sirra, you went to shoot some body.
Trap.
Beseech your Honour to take me along with you, I mean money.
Mach.
That's vain, then Notarie tear it out.
Barb.
Do you nere carry other armes neither?
Trap.
Many times my Lord.
Barb.
Nota [...]ie down with it, he shall be talk'd with for that.
Trap.
Your Honour is deceiv▪d agen, I mean onely armes upon seales, or scutchions from the Heralds.
Mac.
This is nothing Notarie, tear it out.
Barb.
A pimp I'me sure he is.
Mac.
[Page 429]Do you never carry no Love Letters, as from a Gentleman to a Lady, or a Gentlewoman to a Cavalier, or so?
Trap.
O very oft my Lord.
Barb.
Do you so indeed? Notarie write it down.
Trap.
Your Honour must understand me, Letters of Love, of friendship, as when a Lady writes unto her brother at Siena, a wife to her husband at Pisa, a son to his mother at such a place, a father to his daughter married at such a town, I am often hired, and carry them to the Post.
Mac.
Notarie, you must tear out this too.
Barb.
But sirra, to come nearer to the matter,
Do you not keep intelligence with Whores?
Have you nere plaid the Ruffian? by your means
Hath no man been provided of a lodging?
Trap.
This I have no excuse for, the whole city knowes me a pimp.
Aside.
And that it is very nigh my living.
Mac.
What say you sirra?
Trap.
My Lords, I am but a poor fellow, and must live.
Barb.
By Bawdery?
Trap.
Tis but a friends part.
Mac.
A wicked ones, Notarie down with this at large.
Trap.
Alas my Lord, what hurt is it, if I help a Gentleman to a sound wench, where is there any fault? good your Honours, consider me, think not I am a man alone in this business, that many others live by it as well as I.
Bar.
[Page 430]What an impudency is this?
Not onely to do ill, but to defend it,
Is a transgression exceeds forgiveness.
Trap.
Good my Lord take pity on me, wel a day what should I do!
I have not onely done a favour in it for my self, but also a courtesie for many a Gentleman.
Mach.
Do not teare out that, Notarie.
Trap.
Beseech your Honours let him tear't out.
Barb.
What shall we do with this villain?
Mac.
Why let's hang him and ther's an end of him.
Trap.
That's true I faith, consider my Lords, that never man was put to death for such a matter, but rather that they have been beloved, and well paid by noble men and cavalieres.
Mach.
Had we not best to condemn him to the Gallies? or lets banish hm.
Barb.
I that's the best.
Trap.
Beseech your Honours pity me.
Mac.
After to morrow, Trappolin, if thou be'st seen in Florence thou shalt die, be hang'd; we banish thee for term of life, therefore prepare against to morrow to be gone.
Trap.
Pray your Honours.
Bar.
Notarie, write down he's banish't.
Mac.
You rogue, it is irrevocable, and therefore make you ready.
Trap.
I think I am the first man that ever was banish't for such a matter; were all of my profession in [Page 431] the City served so, I think we should make an Army Royal of us.
Barb.
This matter is concluded, Trappolin;
Go seek your fortune. My Lord Machavil;
We may depart.
Exeunt.
Matte.
Thou man of durt, hadst thou a Souldier been,
This banishment had never been pronounc'd.
Trap.
But Sir Captain, I fear I should have been kil'd, which is worse.
Matte.
If for thy Country, t' had been a noble death.
Trap.
I had rather live Cap. then die nobly.
Matte.
Thou man compos'd of sand, in vain I spend
My breath to talk with such a slave as thou;
Go and be hang'd, for [...]o thou do dost deserve,
And might I judge thee, it should be thy end.
Exit.
Trap.
Thou brazen-headed Coxcomb, may'st thou go to the divel with a Drum before thee; I had as leeve be banish't out of my Country and walk in peace, as be out on't in the wars.
Enter Horatio.
Brunetto, O Brunetto, I must leave thee, I must be gone Man to morrow, farewell Florence.
Hora.
Why, whats the matter Trappolin?
Trap.
Why, I have banish't the Lord Barberino, and the Lord Machavil.
Hora.
How! you banish't them?
Trap.
They have banished me, or I them, 'tis all one, I must be gone, and the divel a bit a mony I have: shall I help thee to a Wench Brunetto? Or if thou [Page 432] hast no mind to one, know'st thou any body that has? I'de fain be earning a little mony.
Hora.
I wish thee well, live honest Trappolin,
And so thou shalt be sure to prosper better;
This Ring I give thee, sell it, and the mony
Spend to maintain thee.
Trap.
Honest Brunetto, faith
An ere I can I will requite thee fully;
Farewell, I must also take my leave
Of my Flametta▪ we shall cry together
Like unto School Boys that are to be whipt.
Exit.
Hora.
Alas poor simple Trappolin, I pity
Thy fortune, yet 'tis better far then mine;
Of all mankind I am most miserable,
And lead a life would make a soul prove mortal,
Yet do I not repine: Most dear Prudentia,
I never can endure enough for thee,
So that at last I may attain my wishes:
There's not a grief mankind did ever suffer▪
Nor pain, I would not pass to make thee mine;
Thou art the Centre of my wishes, all
Horatio's thoughts upon thy beauty fall.
Enter Prudentia.
Prud.
O Heavens, be merciful, and if I tell
Him I am his, let him say he is mine▪
I have a fire within my breast must out,
Longer I cannot hide it, if he now
Do's not wooe me, I shall solicite him.
How sad a pace he walks? how melancholy
[Page 433] Do's he look? Love compels us unto things
In others we would scorn; I'le speak unto him,
Because I fear he dares not unto me.
Brunetto.
Hora.
Divinest Lady.
Prud.
I thought a Gentleman (for so I guess you)
Could have endured affliction better far,
That in the wars durst venter so his person.
Hora.
Most Excellent Princess, many thousand men
Can suffer well the dangers of a battel,
But there are few or none at all that can
Bear out the passions of a mind afflicted.
Prud.
Then you are discontent: Alas, you long for
Your liberty, and (truth) I cannot blame you.
Hora.
Then should I hate my self, being a slave to one
Whom I desire evermore to serve.
Ye that command the destinies of men,
Now let me die, and if I shall not prosper:
Know, Noblest Lady, that the prisoner
That speaks unto you is a Prince by birth;
I am Horatio, second son unto
The Duke of Savoy, and the Piemondt Prince;
At Mantoa the fame of your perfections
Captiv'd my soul, and when that I was took,
I did account my self a happy man,
Being to go where you did live; I know,
Most dearest Princess, that I am unworthy
So great a happiness as is your love;
Yet if you deny me, witness heaven,
[Page 434] I never will return unto Turin,
But here die languishing for your refusal.
The Duke my father soon would pay my ransom,
But thraldom for your sake I have esteemed
Above liberty and pleasures of a Court.
Prud.
My thanks, most gracious heavens—Brunetto is
A Prince, most worthy brave Horatio,
I scorn to dally with my happiness,
Like some that love to counterfeit their joys;
Know I do love thee dear as my own soul,
And that if thou hadst now been silent, I
My heart unto thee had disclosed, live happy,
And if it in my power lies thou shalt.
Hora.
Doubt, fear, despaire be gone, I am a man
That envy not the blessed lives of Kings;
Now she hath dain'd to say these happy words,
I care not though all mankind threaten me.
Most excellent and mercifullest Lady,
Y'ave raised me to a joy beyond my thoughts,
May all the Gods requite you for this goodness,
And I wear out my life to do you service.
Prud.
My dear Horatio enough, I doubt not
Thy affections equal unto mine; we will
Love while we live, and may we dye forgotten
When we do cease to love, say I not well?
Hora.
Admired Princess, you out-speak me much,
But never shall out-love me.
Prud.
Heavens be kind,
And make us in two bodyes have one mind.
Exeunt.
Finis Actus Primi.
Actus secundus & scena prima.
Enter Trappolin solus.
Trap.
THis banish't life is very doleful, I walk I know not whither, and every step I go Flametta comes into my mind, I think how she cried when we parted, and swore that she would go too, and certainly so she wood, if I had not told her she was not banisht, and might not. Farwel my true Flametta; and the Divel take the two scurvy Lords Barbarino, and Machavil, for Captain Mattemores he is a pratling asse; but by my conscience, he could nere ha turn'd me loose for such a matter. Farwel my draughts of Montefiascone and Bologna Sausages, me thinks this is a very melancholy place: I have not seen a living body these two houres, but they had wings, or four legs: let me bethink me whither to betake my self; for in Tuscany stay I must not, Ide to Rome and turn Frier if I had any Latine in me; there is nothing of Millain or Naples, without I mean to turn souldier for one dinner a day. Farwel all my good suppers I was wont to have, the wenches I helpt Gentlemen to: Venice, I that's the likeliest place of all, and there I'le follow my own trade, I love to be fingring of Mons, and Polax Ryals, well then I'le to Venice, and turn pimpe; it is a good gainful life in Italy, full [Page 436] of ease and pleasure, especially if the flesh be young and handsome. Methinks I hear a busling in yon trees, I hope it be not a thief; for then I shall lose the ring Brunetto gave me, and may go hang my self. Yon's an old man, an he be one I care not, for sure I shall be good enough for him.
Enter Mago a Conjurer.
Mago.
Son, you are banisht, I know all the matter.
Trap.
Tis true, old friend, I am indeed; but how the Divel came you to know it?
Mago.
Why the Divel told me.
Trap.
Alas that ere I was born! I pray you father conjurer do not hurt me.
Mago.
Son Trappolin, I am so far from hurting thee, that thee I do intend to make a Prince.
Trap.
I pray you pardon me father conjurer, I have no mind to domineer or swagger in hell.
Mag.
You understand me not, thou shalt return to Florence.
Trap.
And be hang'd there for my labour.
Mago.
Be honoured there, and be suppos'd the Duke,
Who now in Milain is about his wife.
Trap.
Faith if you can bring this about, father conjurer; I should laugh indeed; but suppose it could be done, when his Highness comes
Woe be to my neck.
Mag.
No fear at all, leave all to me, and but remember what I say and thou art safe.
Trap.
Faith I know not what to think of this; but [Page 437] Conjurers can do much.
Mag.
I'le do it never doubt, come near to me, within this circle go, and do not fear though thou seest divels skip about thee.
Trap.
Father Conjurer farewel, I had rather live in banishment then see the Divel.
Mago.
Thou silly fellow do not fear, in this
Myriades of fiends dare not, nor can they hurt thee;
Here thou shalt stand as safe from any danger
As ever thou didst yet in any place.
Think'st thou I have so little power over spirits,
As they dare disobey what I command?
Tell me thy wish, and if thou hast it not,
Before thy face I'le sink away with fear.
Give me thy hand and come.
Trap.
Father conjurer, I faith I wish nothing more then what you have promised me already; could that be done I need nere be a pander agen.
Mago.
Why do you stay?
Trap.
Shall I be safe?
Mago.
As free from peril as you can desire.
Trap.
Why then I'le venter, being for such a matter;
But honest father Conjurer, if for fear I chance
To die, let not your divels take my body.
Mago.
Come, do not fear at all, there is no need.
Trap.
I will venter, but I pray you let not the divels come too near me.
Mago.
You that below frequent the Stygian lake,
[Page 438] And in Cocytus waves do bathe yourselves,
You that upon the strands of Phlegetov
Do use to walk, attend unto my charmes,
Appear, I charge thee to appear, thou fiend,
Thou that over mans head power hast, appear
Eo thou spirit come,—
Trap.
Good father conjurer
Let not the Divels be too ugly, lest
I play the sloven and annoy your nose.
Mago.
Fear not.
Trap.
Honest Master Counjurer, yonder comes your Divel, pray you circle me once more, for I'me afraid he'l be too bold with me.
Mago.
Not all the fiends that are in hell can do
The least annoyance to thee, Trappolin:
Thou art safe, and so believe thou art, come Eo
Give me that hat unchanted.
Eo.
Here it is,
Command me ought else.
Mago.
No, vanish now:
Son Trap. observe me well, this hat
Keep alwaies on thy head, 'tis Eo cald,
One of the things will make thee thought a Prince.
Trap.
Tis none of the handsomest, mine's of a better block, I think some Naples Devil made it, tis so high crownd, [...] one that saw me in this would rather think me a fool then a duke.
Mago.
Meo thou spirit of magick glass appear,
I charge thee in dread Plutoes name to come;
Trap.
[Page 439]More Devils yet! is the Circle sure, Father Conjurer? and t' be not I pray you take an order with it, I have no mind at all to venter my self against the Devil.
Mago.
Have I not told thee thou art safe? fear not,
Trap.
Yonder's another Devil I think of M [...]ran, for he brings a looking glass with him.
Mago.
Deliver it, be gone.
Trap.
I thank you for it, (besworn) for in good earnest father Conjurer I would have as little the company of your Devils as is possible.
Mago.
But before I give you this mirrour (Sonne)
Receive this powder by Magick art compos'd,
And secret spells; he upon whom thou flingest it
(It hath such hidden vertue in it) will
Be took by all for Trappolin.
Trap.
For me?
Mago.
Yes certainly for thee.
Trap.
Say you so? why then I faith with all my heart: Give it me, I swear unto you (old father) the very best man in Tuskany shall be Trappolin.
Mago.
Here put it up and keep it safe.
Trap.
And I do not hang me.
Mago.
Now are you ready for the looking glass?
Trap.
I am very ready indeed.
Mago.
Son Trappolin, this looking glas [...] was wrought
In the deep Caverns of the dark Abyse, I
Compos'd of the mud of Phlegeton,
And with the blood of tortur'd Miscreants,
It is a Mirrour I have studied long
[Page 440] And now have brought unto perfection:
This upon thee I do bestow, a gift
Such as the Crowns of Emperours could not buy.
Trap.
And yet Father Conjurer, I have seen half a dozen better sold for a pistol.
Mago.
They were the works of mortalls: When thou hast
A cloke Ile give thee two: but look in this
And thou shalt see thy self the Duke; and if,
When he returnes agen, thou meetest him
(But throw the powder on him first) and he
Begins to rage, bid him look in't, and it
Will shew him the reflexion of thee.
Trap.
Say you so? why then give me the glass.
Mago.
Here, stand still, I will now raise up the fiend
That hath the Cloke which I have promised thee.
Trap.
Father Conjurer, as you love your son Trappolin, give me another
Circle or two, for I promise you I fear this almost worne out,
Mago.
Still thou dost fear; be bold and confident,
Hell cannot hurt thee as thou standst.
Trap.
Why then let him come.
Mago.
In Proserpin's dread name our Soveraign Queen,
Areto, I do, [...]ge thee to appear;
Thus by th [...]croast of this enchanted Wand
I do command thee fiend unto this place.
Trap.
No more Father Conjurer, hold, here comes the Devil, he's a Taylor in hell sure, for he brings [Page 441] a cloke.
Areo.
Thou against whom fierce Cerberus dares not bark,
Here is the Cloke, which, to obey thy will,
We (that thy servants are) have made.
Mago.
Tis well:
Be gone, I licence thy depart; this Cloke,
Son Trappolin, doth perfect thee the Duke.
Trap.
I know not, but on my conscience the poorest of his Highness servants near wore a worse, it seems to me to have been made of these miserable thefts of a beggerly Taylor, t'is of so many Colours; and for the fashion of it (by your leave Father Conjurer) tis very clownish, and something inclining to the fools fashion.
Mago.
Thy words, Son Trappolin, are vain. Those Counts
And Marquesses that swagger it in Gold,
Shall not appear so glorious to the eyes
Of men as thou in this.
Trap.
Father Conjurer, Ile be rul'd by you, put on.
Mago.
Thou art the great Duke now in shew, the wisest
Judgements will believe thee so, now take the glass and see thy self in't.
Trap.
Beseech your Highness pardon me, I am
A poor subject of yours, for a small matter
Banish't by envious Lords.
Mago.
Why Trappolin what folly is this?
Trap.
Besworne to you Father I thought I saw his [Page 442] Highness, and was a begging to be pardoned:
Mago.
Away with ignorance, twas thy Reflexion,
As thou didst seem unto thy self, so thou
Shalt likewise to the world appear; now mark me,
Not one of these can make thee like the Duke;
They altogether do: nere leave them off
Without thou art secure, for one but missing
Thou wilt appear thy self: The Hat is cald
After the Devills name that brought it, Eo,
The Looking Glass Meo, the Cloke Areo,
And there are fiends within them.
Trap.
Father Conjurer, I thank you for your kindness, take all your ware agen; carry so many Devills about me? so I shall be sure to be carried to the Devil by um.
Mago.
Suspect no hurt, they can as well destroy
Their immortality as do thee harm.
Trap.
Why then (honest father Conjurer) Ile venter my self among them, but I swear unto you if they begin to stir Ile ene fling them all away without more a do.
Mago.
Farewell son Trappolin, return to Florence,
And flourish in the pleasures of the court:
Other affairs command me to be gone,
Give me thy hand; farewell son Trappolin.
Trap.
Be not so hasty (my dear old father) one word before you go: how shall I say, that I bring not my Dutchesse with me, but come alone?
Mago
Why any thing, what you will.
Trap.
Ile make um believe then that I licenced her [Page 443] to stay as long as she pleases, and that I came alone to see how they governed in my absence.
Mago.
'Twill do, now have you done with me?
Trap.
I have: I thank you for all your things here, fare you well honest father Conjurer.
Exit Mago.
Trap.
Now Trappolin is no more Trappolin,
What I am in my glass I'le look again:
The great Duke, ha! tis well, 'tis very well;
This scurvy Cloak doth seem his gallant one,
And this base Hat his Highness Beaver; my face,
My body, leggs and all seem changed; I faith
The Conjurer is a wondrous learned fellow.
You scoundril Lords that banish't me, I'le make
Sport with your scurvy Honors, that I will.
Eo, Meo, and Areo attend
Unt [...] your offices well, and guard your friend.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Sforza the Duke of Milain, Hortentia the Dutchess, Isabella his sister, Lavinio the great Duke with Attendants.
Sfor.
Most noble brother (for so the Temple Rites
Of Hymen done do licence me to call you)
Honour our entertainment one half hour
Longer, and we will leave you with your Bride.
Lavinio.
Great Prince, the glories you have done me here
I leave to future Chronicles to tell,
And still you do increase them; sure no man
[Page 444] In Milain ever did receive such honours;
You always shall command me.
Sfor.
Sir, we deserve no complements, we have
Our wishes, if you but rest satisfied
Of our good meaning.
Lavinio.
Most gracious Madam, the Roman Emperours
Would have wondred at your Court had they but known it:
Which of them all would not have blest his fates
For the fruition of so rich a Beauty,
As is the matchless Lady Isabella?
Isab.
Sir, of your own you may say what you please,
But I am sure you over-praise me much.
La.
Dearest of all the world, thou dost deserve
Princes and Poets both to speak thy worth.
Bless'd be the powers divine, that me of all
Mankind did chuse to make most fortunate,
In giving me the glory of the earth.
Sfor.
Sit down most noble brother, from your Bride
We will not part you: sister, this place is yours;
So let them now begin.
Enter Hymen, Luna, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Sol, after Musick.
Hym.
Hither we are descended from above,
To gratulate your nobly grounded love;
That you most worthy happy paire should know
The Gods themselves are pleas'd with what you do.
[Page 445] Me you have honoured, and to honour you,
I have brought the Deities along, which do
Command and rule the dayes, that they may bless
You all the year with plenteous happiness.
May Tuscanes Cities boast of Milains Spouse;
And future Ages, when they would compose
One grac'd with all the vertues, her express
To be a Lady like this Milaness.
And may the most ingenious Florentines,
Your Citizens (Great Duke) busie their minds
In writing, and in singing Marriage-songs,
Delectable Epithalamiums.
While you do live love ever, and may you
Continually your generous heats renew.
Thus Hymen wishes, and it will go hard
If what a god says gods do not regard.
Thus I could spend the night, but that would prove
A wrong unto my Rites and to your love.
Here they dance, and Hymen leads it.
Luna.
Cinthia I am, that with my borrowed light
Out-shine the Stars, and do command the night:
Many a time, when else I vail'd would ride,
I will appear to see you with your Bride.
Lamps nor wax lights you shall not need, for I
Instead of them will ever more be by.
And may you in this life you have begun,
Equal in love me and Endymion.
Mars.
Though my aspect be fierce, and wars presage,
To you they shall be such as Lovers wage▪
[Page 446] Sweet kisses, soft embraces, and such things
As amorous Queens enjoy and amorous Kings.
You therefore without pity both may fight
Battailes, not full of danger but delight:
And may they last until I part you two;
Which I do promise I will never do.
Mer.
Hermes I am, Maja's wing'd Son, and shine
Among the Planets in a Globe of mine:
And though 'tis true I favour thefts and sleights,
Yet will do none t' diminish your delights.
Love therefore, laugh and kiss, embrace, and be
Secure, nothing can hurt you without me;
And if I ever do, may I forgo
My Sphere, and live among the fiends below.
Iupit.
Of all the Gods and Goddesses I am
The most supreme, and bear the chiefest name▪
For Love what is it that I have not done
To bring my wishes to conclusion?
I for my self have done no more then I
Will do for you, to make you live in joy.
Therefore most happy pair of Lovers, fear
Nothing, since Iove himself doth hold you dear;
Live merrily, and let this be your mover,
That Iupiter himself was once a Lover.
Venus.
[Page]A Song.
Since in my Orbe I shined fair,
And Lovers did befriend,
(The morning and the evening Star)
I never could commend
(Heaven blessed paire) none like to you,
Whom time shall never make untrue.
May Hesperus and Vesper lose
Their lights, fair Venus fall;
If all her power she doth not use
To prosper you withal.
May other Dieties grant you life,
I'le make you loving man and wife.
Sat.
Though I am old and rigid in aspect,
And cold and youthful sports do not affect;
And though my influences many ways
Adverse to others be, and cross their days:
For you, heaven-loved pair, my self I'le force,
And run a milder and a gentler course;
His ancient custome Saturne will forget,
Rise for your pleasures, for your pleasures set.
Doubt me not therefore, for my vow is strong,
That for your sakes again I wish me young.
Sol.
Phoebus I am, the glorious guide of day,
That all the Planets lighten with my ray:
[Page] I am the brightsome, lightsome Charioter
That heaven and earth adorn within my Sphere;
And know what 'tis to be in love since I
Followed my Daphne, who from me did flie.
May I lose all my glory, all my Beams
Fall like my Phaeton int' Ocean streams,
If all my faculties I do not try
To make you live in joy, and love in joy.
In Summer time when you int' Arbors go,
I will not shine to trouble you below,
Will onely peep to see you kiss and smile,
To make me think, this I have done ere while.
In Winter season when the Frost doth stay,
And hinder Rivers to go on their way;
When flakes of Snow do cover earths green face,
I for your sakes will thaw off both apace.
In pleasures evermore you shall accord;
Apollo cannot falsifie his word.
Here they dance another dance which Hymen leads.
Hym.
The gracious Planets which command the days
By powerful influences, you have heard
To bless you both according to their ways,
Vowing to be your keepers and your guard.
Them for your sakes with me I brought along,
That they might prosper you as well as I,
Because this marriage knot I'de tye so strong,
That it there nothing ever should untie.
[Page 449] You whom the heavens will prosper all your life,
You whom on earth ther's nothing can offend,
Most happy pair, most happy man and wife,
Your lives in love wear out and in love end.
Nor shall a Poet hired for his gain,
Vpon your Tomb a feigned verse engrave;
Mens tongues and tears shall make you both remain
Above the power of an Epitaph.
But may you live till you aweary be,
Not of your selves, but of these earthly sports;
And the eternal joys above would see,
Which ever are in joves immortal Courts.
Thus unto you do gods their wishes give,
And unto them may you according live.
Exeunt Maskers▪
Sfor.
I think, Hortentia, now the Mask is done,
Our brother gladly would go to his rest.
Hort.
And it is time, most noble brother, when
You please we will attend you to your Chamber,
And sister, we will see you laid in bed;
Methinks it is a very pretty thing
To see a Virgin blush, look pale and blush.
Isa.
'Tis sport to others, to the Maid 'tis none.
La.
Most excellent, Princess when you please let's go,
For now each minute is as tedious to me
As years have been, so much I do desire
The chast embraces of my matchless Spouse.
Sfor.
And worthy friend, let us entreat your stay
As long in Milain as is possible;
[Page 450] You cannot be in Florence more beloved,
Nor by the better nor the meaner sort.
La.
What I can do you know you may command
Unto my utmost power.
Hort.
Lights.
Lavi.
My fairest, dearest love, your hand, this part
Of happiness makes me suppose the rest.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Mattemores.
Matt.
Those lazy times that do degenerate minds,
And breed new thoughts in most Heroick hearts,
By noble spirits are to be abhor'd,
And lothed as the ruine of their souls.
Whilst I did follow the Triumphant War
Through fire and blood, I was a happy man;
I thought no pleasure was a parallel
To the loud cry of mortal wounded foes:
But now I am transformed from my self,
Hipolita hath charm'd me with a look;
May I but hear her speak, how I rejoyce▪
M ay I but hear her sing, I think me blest.
O how my heart's ashamed of my tongue,
W hich never until now effeminate thoughts
C ould win upon. O would to heaven this Lady
W ere but a man, and circled round with death,
That I might kill her, and release my self:
Or were she like the Warlike Amazon,
[Page 451] VVith whom renowned Theseus did contend,
That with my honour I might challenge her
For an enchanter, and a witch. How fondly
And foolishly I rave! strongest resolutions
A womans powerful beauty doth destroy;
He that can conjure men, unpeople towns,
Cover the sea with Fleets, drink rivers dry
VVith armed squadrons he conducts to fight,
VVhom potent monarchs fear, and Emperors wish
To make their friend, a Ladies smile, or eye
Subdues above resistance, and makes die.
Enter Horatio and Prudentia.
Hora.
Most dearest worthiest Princess, I am blest
Above the proudest of my former wishes;
Your love to me was like a thing desired,
But far from expectation: as men
Forlorn and wretched, being content to die,
And sure to suffer, wish to live, although,
They fully do despair of life; of late
Even so was it with me, I lov'd you
Above my lives expression, but did ever
Despair the blessedness of such an honour.
Prud.
My dear Horatio, I cannot speak
So well as you, but I can love as truly.
Mat.
A strange discovery! I will retire
More close and hear the rest.
Pru.
And [...] Sir,
Because I know my brother the Great Duke
Will not at all, or scarce allow this match,
[Page] I will with you whensoever you command
Leave Florence, and what fortune it shall please
The Gods to send us, bear with cheerfulness.
Hora.
Excellent merciful Prudentia,
I must pray Heaven make you a full requital,
For I shall ever be unable.
Prud.
I cannot stay longer with you now, at our next meating I'le cloy you with my company. A kiss.
Farewel my hearts best pleasure.
Exit Prudentia.
Hora.
Let others travel Italy all over,
To talk of such a City, such a place:
Go to magnificent and holy Rome,
Once the sole Empress of the conquered world;
To Venice [...]i [...]h, commanding, politick;
Unto sweet Naples plenteous in Nobility;
Unto great Milain; unto sat Bologna,
Civil Ferrara, Arriostoes town,
Strong-walled Padua which Antenor built▪
The Trojan Prince, and Titus Livius fames
For his nativity and sepulchre;
To subtile Burgamo, most highly honoured
For neer relation to Tarquato Tasso;
To proud and [...]a [...]ely Genua renown'd
By her seafaring citizen Col [...]mbo;
Worthy Varona, old Catulius city;
Bloody Peruggin, warlike Bessia,
Glorious Man [...]ua, Virgilius Maro's birth-place,
Good Rimini, iron Pistoya,
Fine languag'd Siena, and industrious Luca,
Ill-aired Simegallia, Capua
Effeminate and amorous, wherein
The Carthaginian Captains Souldiers were
Spoil'd and debauch'd with pleasures; Pisa hanging,
Pesaro a garden of best fruits, Ancona
Prays'd for the Port Loyal, and true Urbino,
Round Ascoli▪ long Recanati, built
Upon a steep hills slage, Foligno full
Of sugry streets, among the Ap [...]nnine,
Faro for handsome women most extold,
And Modena happiest of them all▪
From beauteous comely Florence when I part
Without Prudentia, thunder strike my heart.
Exit.
Mat.
A gallant resolution; for the man
I cannot blame him, but the Princess, she
To look so low, and dote upon a s [...]ive,
Seems very strange, and full of wonder to me.
Had Dolphian Oracles, ever ador'd
For uttering truth, spoke this, I should have doubted:
She whom we thought? Saint [...] pattern for Nunnes,
Thus to forget her self, it doth amaze me.
O women, I could rage against the sex!
And lov'd I not Hipoli [...]a I wo [...]ld.
She cannot hear me, and I needs must speak
A word or two, they are all false and fickle all,
The poyson of mens happiness, within
(Though they are fair without) most full of sin.
Enter Barbarino and Machavil.
Barb.
Good morrow Captain Mattemores.
Mac.
[Page 454]How do you Captain?
Mat.
Your Honours humble slave, I am well, but sad;
And so had all the Court good cause to be,
Did they but know so much as I.
Bar.
Why Captain,
What's the matter?
Mat.
I'le not be silent for her Honours sake;
Prudentia the Princess is in Love,
With whom do you suppo [...]e my Lords?
Mac.
I think with none, for we all know, she yet
Hath slighted Modena's and Parma's Duke,
And seem'd careless of mankind.
Mat.
Alas!
She were most happy were it one of them:
It is Brunetto she's in love withall.
Barb.
How?
Mac.
Impossible!
Mat.
It is a thing most true, my eies and eares
Have seen and heard it, while I stood unseen.
Mac.
You amaze us.
Barb.
It is a thing I never should have thought,
Though spent my life in fond imaginations.
Mat.
As I have seen an amorons cloud receive
A stately hil into her lovely breast,
And of his lofty head our eyes bereave,
And seem to lull his sences unto rest:
So did the scorneful Lady daign to leave
All her majestick state, and sore opprest
With inward flames, her eager armes she cast
[Page 455] About his neck, kist and embrac't him fast.
Bar.
Wonders.
Mac.
How the Great Duke will rage?
Mat.
And do you not my Lords in time prevent them,
They'l steal away I fear, for so she vow'd,
When he but said the word she wood.
Mac.
By his imprisonment we'l hinder that.
Enter Horatio.
Barb.
Here is the man we spake of.
Mac.
For the Princes honour let us keep it close
As possible we can. You of the guard.
Enter the guard.
Barb.
Seise on Brunetto, carry him to prison,
Bid Puchannello keep him safe,
Tis our pleasures.
Hora.
What violence is this? O had I been suffered to wear a sword, some of you should pay dearly for it▪
Mac.
Away with him.
Exeunt the guard with Horatio.
Mat▪
My Lords, you have done wisely to prevent
So great a dishonour as might have ensu'd
Tainted the family of the Medices,
And been a lasting sorrow to the Duke.
[Page] Enter Trappolin.
Barb.
His Highness is returned.
Mach.
Great Sir, upon our knees we welcome you;
You come unlookt for, we did not expect
This happy time so soon by fourteen dayes.
Where is our Dutchess?
Trap.
Your Dutchess will not come till the Gods know when, for I do not, I have gin her leave to stay as long as she will, but besworne I fear you have governed but s [...]rvily in my absence▪ I hear that you have banisht an honest poor man cal'd Trappolin▪ is it true?
Mach.
So please your Highness he deserv'd no less.
Trap.
Why what hurt had he done, had he knockt any body oth the head?
What was his fault?
Bar.
He was a pander, and corrupted youth.
Trap.
You lie Sirra not panders but whores do that, and not they neither if they be sound: banish one of my subjects for such a matter? besides were there no more in Florence but he?
Mac.
Be not displeased we humbly pray your Highness,
For we did think we did it for the best.
Mat.
I wonder at our Duke in this.
Trap.
Well, I am very weary, I left all my train behind with my wife, and rid as fast as I could drive that I might come unlookt for the better to see now you behav'd your selves, which you have done [Page 457] bad enough. When I was almost at Florence a saucy Varlet rob'd me and stole my horse from me, so that I was beholding to my leggs to bring me hihither. Barberino and Machavil come you hither both of you.
Mach.
What is your Highness pleasure?
Trap.
Sirra Barberino hold by Mach's breeches, and stoop, for on thy back I will ride to my Palace.
Barb.
Ile go fetch a Coach for your Highness.
Trap.
The Devil take your Coaches, stoop I say without more ado: where is your obedience?
Matte.
I think the Duke's run mad, or foxt soundly at the least I know not what to think of this.
Trap.
You Sirra Don, run by my side, supply my Lackeys office, wonder not but obey.
Mach.
There is no remedy: heaven be merciful, I think his Highness run mad for fear when he was robd.
Trap.
Now on and do not loyter:
Thus like the Roman Emperours will I ride
To triumph through Florence; stumble not you had best,
Chariots them carried, a Tuscan Noble me; mine is the starelier and the braver way;
Eo, Meo and Areo thanks.
Matte.
He jeers us and miscalls us.
Trap.
On apace,
That I may quickly be in my Palace.
Exeunt Omnes.
Finis Actus Secundi.
Actus Tertius, Scena prima.
Enter Horatio in prison.
Hora.
UNto the man enthral'd black and obscure
Is the clear beauty of the brightest day;
Through Iron Grates he only sees the light,
And thereby doth increase his misery;
Those whom he doth perceive in joy to pass
Augment his wretchedness, by making him
To think that thus I lately was my self:
But admirablest Lady of the world,
Divine Prudentia, may I die abhor'd
By all mankind, if I repine at all,
Seeing for thy sake I do suffer this;
The exquisitest tortures curious inventions make,
For thee I would think sports, and undergo;
Mayst thou live happily and free from care,
And all my miseries of no moment are.
Enter Trappolin.
Trap.
Eo, Meo and Areo, faith you are all brave Devils all on you, and my father Conjurer an excellent fellow; I love to see my self, Meo thou art not the work of Moran; No, the Duke himself I seem. I now must learn to walk in state, and speak proudly, Ile play such tricks with my Lord banishers, shall make me sport enough: banish a poor [Page 459] man for doing courtesies! it is against the law of friendship, I am suppos'd a Prince, the Florentines acknowledge me the great Duke; what ever I do tho never so bad passeth with approbation: poor Trappolin turn'd Duke! tis very strange, but very true;
Would the fates favour panders in this wise,
He were a fool besworn would not turne pimp,
Seeing Pandors Dukes become, he is an asse
That may hav't will let the office pass.
O me Brunetto, alas for thee man! how camst thou there? I think in my heart an there be a mischief in the world thou wilt be at one end orother on't,
So ho Pucchanello, Pucchanello!
Puch.
Who calls:
Enter Pucchanello.
Trap.
That do I Sirra, let me Brunetto out presently, and bid him come to me.
Pucch.
Your Highness pleasure shall be done.
Ex.
Trap.
Alas poor Brunetto! marl what he has done to be lockt in such a place, I think in my conscience tis not for any Lechery, for I could never get him to't, and many a time I have offered him many a good bit: Brunetto to come into the Jayle! I cannot tell what to think of it, but be't for what it will out he goes; my good friend Brunetto who gave me a Ring shall not lie there;
Honest Brunetto.
Enter Brunetto
Hora.
Great Prince:
Trap.
[Page 460]He makes a very low leg, but I will not be out-gone in courtesie;
Dearest Brunetto.
Hora.
Your Highness doth forget your self exceedingly, I am your prisoner.
Trap.
My best friend good Brunetto.
Hora.
Beseech your Highness to remember your self.
Trap.
So I do but never must forget thee. I am glad to see thee in good health, dear Brunetto.
Hora.
I shall fall to the ground even now in this salutation; beseech your Highness, I am your prisoner, your slave.
Trap.
I am thy servant Brunento.
Hora.
Wonders! I am astonished; upon my humble knees I do congratulate your safe and speedy return.
Trap.
And upon my knees I do embrace thee Brunetto, thou art an honest man▪ my most sweet Brunetto.
Hora.
I know not what to think, nor what to speak;
Beseech your Highness rise.
Trap.
Not without thee, up Brunetto, honest Brunetto up I say.
Hora.
Beseech your Highness, I am your humble slave.
Trap.
I am thy servant Brunetto, and as long as thou liest on the ground so will I too; up therefore, let us rise and talk, away with your complements; I cannot abide them, up I say, lets rise; thou shalt [Page 461] not stay I swear.
Hora.
I am amazed, by force I must obey: Great Sir, I know not what to think, you honour me above all expression.
Trap.
Honour a fig, I love thee Brunetto, thou art a good honest fellow, I love thee with all my heart: Complement with me, and I will be very angry; without more ado I tell thee I love thee. Puchanello so ho!
Sirra Puchanello, bring two chairs hither presently.
Hora.
Your Highness.
Trap.
Away with Highness, I say away with it, call me Lavin Duke, plain Medices, I cannot abide your Highness, your Excellency, your Worship. I hate such idle slimflams, dear Brunetto, how I love thee I faith I do with al my heart, and if I lie unto thee I would I might be hang'd.
Hora.
Sure I am awake, this is no dream.
Trap.
We will live merrily together, I faith we will Brunetto, how glad I am to see thee in health! come Sirra, what a while ha you been a bringing a couple of chairs! set them here Sirra and be gone.
Exit Pucchanello.
Brunetto, sit thee down, sit down man I say.
Hora.
I will attend your Highness on my knees.
Trap.
Why I am not thy Father, am I? leave fooling and sit thee down, that we may talk together, sit thee here I will have it so,
Hora.
I am astonisht, I humbly pray your Highness.
Trap.
Pray me no praying, but sit thee down, sit thee here man.
[Page 462] Brunetto be rul'd.
Hora.
On the right hand, I know not what to think▪
Trap.
I am something aweary Brunetto, and will not not sit without thee, therefore I pray thee make me stand no longer; obey, me for I am the Duke.
Mora.
Here then so please your Highness.
Trap.
Why an thou wilt have it there, there let it be, but I am mistook thats on the left hand, what do you think me a clown and without breeding, that I ha no more manners in me? for shame of the world, sit thee down Brunetto, sit thee down & without more bidding, without thou wilt ha me lie on the ground, for I am so weary I can scant stand.
Hora.
There is no remedy, I must obey.
Trap.
So, well done, sit still man, what art doing, art afraid of me?
Hor.
What does your Highness mean?
Trap.
Marry and thou drawst back Ile draw back too; Brunetto sit thee still and let us talk.
Hora.
I will obey your Highness.
Trap.
Highness me no more highness, I cannot abide it, my name is Lavin, call me Lavin Duke, and tis enough a conscience.
Hora.
Great Sir, I am far unworthy of these honors,
The noblest Florentines would be most proud
To be thus graced by their Prince.
Trap.
I like not these set speeches neither, let us talk as we were companions in a Tavern together, and notafter the Court fashion, I am as weary of it as a [Page 463] Dog, I am Brunetto; prithee man how cam'st thou into the Gaol?
Hora.
O pardon me Dread Soveraign.
Trap.
On thy knees man? what meanest thou by this, dost take me for Mahomet? as well as I can pardon thee I do, any thing what ere it be, though thou hast kil'd every body; rise therefore I say Brunetto, and set thee in thyplace again or Ile kneel too.
Hora.
Most merciful Prince, hear me before, lest you
Repent your kindness towards me afterward.
Trap.
Up I say Brunetto, up, I pardon thee any thing, upon condition thou wilt rise and sit thee down.
Hora.
It is your Highness will.
Trap.
Now good Brunetto without any fear (for I swear unto thee I do not care what thou hast done, and forgive thee whatsoever it be) tell me the cause.
Hora.
Dread Soveraign, I was for love put in.
Trap.
Who put thee in?
Hora.
Your Highness Governors, Lord Barberino, and Lord Machavil.
Trap.
They are a couple of Coxcombs for their pains; who art in love withal?
Hora.
O pardon me.
Trap.
Sit still or I will not, and if thou dost I will.
Hora.
Your Highness Excellent sister—O great Prince!
Trap.
Sit still Brunetto, wast thou laid up for that?
Alas for thee, hast thou married her?
Hora.
[Page 464]So please you Highness no.
Trap.
It doth neither please my Highness nor Lowness neither, I wo'd thou hadst, and that's all the hurt I wish thee: co ldst thou think I that loved thee so would be angry with thee for this, hast thou her consent?
Hora.
I have.
Trap.
I am very glad of it, and I here give thee mine too: prethee Brunetto do me the favour to go and bid Barberino or Machavil come to me, I'le send for my sister presently, and if she says so to me, I'le soon have you married.
Hora.
You Highness shall command me to my death,
More willingly unto my life, for so
This business doth importt; he heavens be praised,
And ever be propitious to you, bless you
According to your own and my desires.
Exit.
Trap.
This Brunetto is a good honest fellow, and hath always behaved himself very well, and whatsoever he be I'le give him Prudentia for the Ring he gave me, I will not be ungrateful; he said he was in love with my sister, and if he had them all, I wo'd een say much good do his heart with them▪ but he means the Princess, and though I have little to do with her, yet if I can give her him I will, Brunetto's Ring I shall never forget.
[Page 465] Enter Machavil.
Mac.
Your Highness pleasure.
Trap.
My Highness pleasure, Sirra Lord, is, that you go and tell my sister Prudentia I would speak with her presently, I will expect her here: be gone.
Exit.
The Dukes life is very pleasant, I take great content in it, and were it not for one thing I were most happy, which is, I dare not disclose my self to my dear Flametta, for she is a woman, and full of title tatle as the rest are; nor if I could win her without making my self known, durst I lye with her, by reason of putting off Eo, Meo, and Areo; otherwise sure I should get her; for sure she would not refuse a Duke.
Enter Flametta.
Flametta.
Here is the Duke alone, whom I so long
Have sought for to petition for the repeal
Of my dear Trappolin. Great Prince, as low
As truest humility can make a Suitor;
Before you I prostrate my self; Most excellent
And merciful Sir, pitty a loving Maid,
Who is bereaved of her joys; I beg
Poor banish't Trappolin might be recalled,
Whom (when your Highness was to Milain gone,)
Was by those cruel Lords whom you did leave
Our Governors, sent into banishment.
[Page 466] Great Duke, you that have noble thoughts, and sure
A heart full of commiseration,
Kill me not with a cruel hard denial.
Trap.
Ah Eo, Meo, and Areo, hinder me! I must counterfeit with her; fair Maiden rise.
Flam.
O let me kneel (Great Sir) until you say
My Trappolin shall be repeal'd.
Trap.
Rise I say, & we will talk of it; I cannot abide to see any body kneel unless they are in the Church that have leggs to stand on: how may I call you Maiden?
Flam.
So please your Highness, my name is Flametta.
Trap.
Mris. Flametta, I say give me your hand, rise without more ado, rise without you mean to say your Beads over; Mris. Flametta be rul'd, good Mris. Flametta be rul'd, wo'd I were hanged i [...] ever Trappoline come home and you get not up; up I say therefore.
Flam.
I must be most rude.
Trap.
Why that's well done Mris. Flametta: Trappolin for whom you are a petitioner, young Mistris, is banish't you say, for what it matters not, tell me what you'l give for his repeal.
Flam.
Even any thing I have, all that I have.
Trap.
Are you a Virgin? tell me true, if you are not▪ it is no wonder besworn, it is more wonder by the half if you are, for I think there be not two of your age in the City that be.
Flain.
May I not prosper in my wishes Sir,
[Page 467] If I be not a Maid.
Trap.
And will you give your Maidenhead to have him recal'd from banishment?
Flam.
To him when he comes home, and we are married.
Trap.
Well said Mistress, But tell me now what will you give me for to have him come home?—
Flam.
Even any thing I have.
Trap.
I am a great man, and like them, will not do favours for nothing; will you give me your Shoos?
Flam.
My Shoos! your Highness jests.
Trap.
I swear unto you (Mistriss) but I do not, and if you do not give me what I ask (how ridiculous soever it seems to you) Trappolin nere comes in Florence again.
Flam.
I wonder at the Duke, but will obey him;
Here are my shooes dear Prince.
Trap.
Well done I say, but I must have your Stockings too off with them therefore without any more arguing.
Flam.
My Stockings with all my heart to have my Trappolin.
Trap.
Very well done Mrs Flam. you do very well, give me your gown too; Do not wonder, these will do nothing without it.
Flam.
Then shall your Highness have it.
Trap.
I see you love that fellow well, 'tis well done of you, I think he be an honest man, which makes me the willinger to yield to his repeal; I say I must have that Petticote too, else all this is not worth a rush i'faith.
Flam.
[Page 468]I think the Duke's mad—And will you give me then your Highness word?
Trap.
I will.
Flam.
I cannot help it, here it is.
Trap.
I swear unto thee, young Wench, give me thy under Petticote and thy Smock, and I will give thee my word, and send for him presently to night [...] this Wench makes me curse Eo, Meo, and Areo.
Flam.
Most excellent Sir, there is not in the world
The thing that in my power lies I wo'd
Deny to do for my dear Trappolin,
But modesty forbids me to do this.
Trap.
I shall not have them then?
Flam.
I beseech your Highness pardon me.
Trap.
I am very sorry I could not see her naked, but it cannot be help't; well how many kisses wil you give me my young Mistriss?
Flam.
Kisses?
Most Gracious Prince, a thousand and a thousand times.
I'le kiss your hand upon my humble knees.
Trap.
I have no pleasure in that: how many kisses upon lips will you give me?
Flam.
For Trappolins sake, I'le do any thing that modesty will give me leave; do what you please Sir.
Trap.
Ah honey sweet Flametta, how I love thee▪ prithee kiss better: dear lips! I could almost wish Eo, M [...]o, and Areo i'th' fire; again, again, again, sweet Flametta.
Flam.
Shall Trappolin come home?
Trap.
[Page]Do but let us kiss, and thou shalt have any thing.
O me! what a misery 'tis to be a great man? again, again Flametta, Trappolin shall come home.
Flam.
I am aweary.
Trap.
So shall I never be; again, again.
Enter Prudentia.
Flam.
The Princess, your Highness sister:
You have gin your word.
Trap.
Young Mistress, I have not leisure to answer you now, come to me some other time, and I'le talk with you further: now take up your things and be gone.
Flam.
I am assur'd I shall prevail: heavens guard your Highness.
Exit.
Prud.
Now I expect my brothers rage, for sure
(Though nere so secret kept) my Love unto
My dearest Horatio by some uncouth means
Is known: say what he will, or can, I am
Resolv'd, and my affection's setled.
Trap.
Fair Lady, come hither, you are my sister, are you?
Prud.
I am your sister and servant Sir.
Trap.
Complement with me no more then I complement with you; good Madam sister sit you down, I would talk with you a little.
Prud.
He talkes as though he were distracted. I obey you Sir.
Trap.
Tis well done, good Lady sister.
Prud.
[Page]I never saw my brother thus before;
Sir, I am exceeding glad to see you
Return'd in safety out of Lombardy; but should have been more joyful had you brought your Dutchess with you.
Trap.
She'l come soon enough nere fear't; but sister, I must be something brief, for I am a hungry; as soon as I came home I saw Brunetto in the Gaol, who after many circumstances and fears, told me 'twas for love of you that he was put there; tell me sister Prudentia, do you love him? I'le besworn the man is a good honest fellow, if you have a mind to him I'le give you my consent with al my heart: I vow as I am an honest man, and the Duke, I do not jest.
Prud.
Most worthy brother, thanks; I do confess
I love Brunetto, and were very guilty
Of cruelty if I did not; for he
Loves me I know as his own happiness:
Nor, Sir, have I plac'd my affections
Unworthy; Brunetto is a Prince,
His name is Horatio, and he's second son
Unto the Duke of Savoy; for my sake
He chang'd his name and lives a prisoner.
Trap.
How's this! is Brunetto a Prince? you love him Lady sister you say.
Prud.
Most truely Sir I do.
Trap.
Are you content to marry him?
Pru.
I do desire no greater bliss on earth,
So that your Highness will consent thereto.
Trap.
[Page]Lady sister, here is my hand, I am content i'faith, without more words I am.
[...] am an hungry now, and would be brief, sister mine I say marry him when you will, beshrew my heart and I be not content;
I had rather you had him then any man in the world.
Prud.
I know not what to think, he's strangely chang'd.
Trap.
Let this suffice Madam sister; I am very hungry I say, have you any good store of meat in the house? I could eat soundly now sister of a dish of Sausages: come Lady sister, lets to dinner, be gone, I have a good stomach as I am an honest man.
Exeunt.
Scena secunda.
Enter Mattemores.
Mat,
I that have led a life until of late
In spite of death, pass'd through the dangers of it
Dreadless without regard; whom never men
Conducted by brave Captains to the field,
Did yet withstand, am won and vanquished:
Hipolita, heroick Amazon,
In Love hath conquered me with amorous smiles;
Methinks it is a thing most full of wonder,
That what not massie pikes, nor murtherous guns
Could ever do, a Ladies smiling eyes,
The beauty of a timorous woman should;
[Page] Her eyes have darted fire into my breast,
Which nothing but her kindness can extinguish,
And be she cruel I shall soon be ashes.
Do I thus yield? shall I forget the sound
Of martial Drums, the warlike noise of Trumpets,
To list to the lascivious harmony
Of instruments touched by Hipolita's hand?
Shall I forget the ordering of a Camp,
To ride great horses, to besiege a city,
To undermine a Castle, to raise Bulwarks,
All for the love of a fair fearful woman?
It must be so; these legs that wont to lead
Arm'd men to battel, I must use in dances:
This hair that us'd to be covered with a helm,
Cloggy with sweat and blood, I now must powder:
These hands that wont to wave a dreadful sword,
Instead of iron gauntlets now must wear
Perfum'd gloves: I that had wont to be
Under the Chirurgions hands to cure my wounds,
Must have a barber now to keep me neat:
O Love! thou art divine, and canst transform
A man from what he was: it is in vain
To think to shun the thing thou dost constrain.
Enter Hipolita.
Hipol.
I.
Tis idleness that is the cause
We lose our liberties:
[Page 473] The busie Cupid never drawes
To yield unto his vice.
2.
Away with love, it is a thing
I hope I nere shall know;
When many weep so I shall sing,
Have joy while they have woe.
3.
The happiness of love is poor,
Compar'd to liberty;
Blest lovers do hard things endure,
Their pleasures to enjoy.
4.
May I live ever as I do
Free from that foolish pain;
I wish that no man may me woo,
Until I love again.
Mat.
O Heavens, is thus her mind compos'd! if I
Can win this Lady, it will be a conquest
Deserves a Trophie far above my best
Of Victories, I will go trie her: hail
Glory of Italy, compar'd to whom
The fam'd Egyptian Queen would yield, sweet Lady,
Most excellent Hipolita vouchsafe
To hear me tell your conquest and my foile;
Whom the Great Dukes greatest foes could never vanquish,
Your powerful beauty hath; know Mattemores,
[Page 474] (Whose valour Spain not only doth report,
But Mantoa hath prov'd your matchless eyes
Transcendents of the brightest lightest stars)
Have wounded fatally unto the heart,
Unless you prove as kind as you are fair.
Hip.
Do you jest with me Captain?
Mat.
My hearts delight, sweet centre of my thoughts,
I vow by your rich beauty, if my heart
Could speak, it would agree full with my tongue,
I would tell my lover more then I can express.
Hip.
What ill fortune, good Seignior, you have had,
To fall in Love with one deserves it not,
Nor doth not care for you? and I do hope
I nere shall bear affection unto man.
Mat.
Patience assist me mightily; not all
The murtherous canon bullets I have heard
Fly buzzing by my ears, nor dismal cries
Of dying souldiers, nor the horrid noise
Of rough tempestuous seas have ever mov'd me,
Onely your harsh unkind reply hath struck
Unto my very soul.
Hip.
I cannot help it;
Had you now, Captain been abroad it'h field,
This nere had happened to you; and to cure you
The field will be the best; go to the wars,
Busie your self in fights, and you will soon
Forget you ever saw Hipolita.
Mat.
Most cruel fair one, be assur'd that ere
I would forget you (which I know's a thing
[Page 475] For me impossible to do) I would
Into oblivion cast my best of pleasures,
Even all my pleasures, I would forget to use
My sword, and all the Militarie science;
Witness triumphant Son of Iove, Great Mars,
I vow by all the Honours of a souldier
I love thee dear as mine own heart, but this
Admirable Lady much above it:
Nor do I displease thee in't, I know that thou
Preferd'st the embraces of the Cyprian Queen
Above the glorious battels of the field.
Therefore (dear Lady) be most confident
While I have memory, above all things,
Your beauty will be fixed in't.
Hip.
Good Seignior,
Trouble me not to answer you agen;
Let this suffice, I wish you lik'd me not,
Because I neither would have you nor any
To love a woman will not return affection.
Mat.
O Heavens!
Will you continue thus obdurate ever?
Hip.
Alwaies believe it Captain.
Mat.
I have not patience to contain my self;
An angry cloud full fraught with thunder bolts
Work't by the Cyclops on Campagnia's Stithy,
Now hanging ore my head, menacing death,
Presaging speedy sad destruction,
Could not compel my silence, 'tis decreed
By my adverse malignant stars that I
[Page 476] Shall die destroy'd by a fair cruel woman;
Which ere I do, I will a little ease
My troubled heart of woe: heare merciless woman:
(Whom I do curse because I love so dearly)
Hear me, and afterwards go glory that
Your wondrous beauty, and your savage heart
Hath made a man distracted, kild a souldier.
Hip.
A Captain and be thus mov'd by a womans refusal!
Mat.
Sweetest Hipolita, be merciful, and save
His life that honours you above the world.
Hip.
Pray you Seignior be answered.
Mat.
You are resolv'd then to ruine me:
Curs'd be those battels all that I have fought
And conquer'd in, t'had been more honour for me
To have been slain by my incensed foes
Which were brave souldiers, then to die in peace
By the unkindness of a proud fair woman.
Hip.
Beseech you leave your rage, and leave me Captain.
Mat.
More cruel then Hyrcanian Tigers, hear
Me take my leave before I go.
Hip.
Proceed.
Mat.
Thou God of love, and if thou art a God
Revenge thy self and thy wrong'd deity
On this unmerciful Lady; make her fall
In love with the basest of all mankind,
A man so full of ignorance, that he
In shape alone may differ from a beast,
Not know that she is fair and slight her beauty;
[Page 477] And he himself the most deformed thing
That ever burthened our mother earth
With his unworthy steps: Cupid attend,
And yield unto my just request; make this
Lady run mad for such a monster, shed
A thousand thousand tears upon her knees,
While he stands laughing at her: may you die
Raging for love, Hipolita as I.
Hip.
I do begin to pity him; sure I never
Shall have a man to love me better, and though
I once intended alwaies to live single,
His words have altered my resolution:
Nor, if I take him, shall I do a thing
Will misbecome me, for he is a man
High in the Great Dukes favour. Noble Captain,
It is your happy fate to conquer alwaies;
I vow unto you by my honour, I think
Most seriously, no man upon the earth
Besides you could have won; I'me the last
Of all your victories, Theseus like you have
Overcome Hipolita.
Mat.
And will you love me then?
Hip.
I do and alwaies will.
Mat.
Blest be the stars that shin'd at my nativity,
I want words to express my joyes; but dearest Lady,
My sweet Hipolita, my forward actions
Shall make you know my heart above my tongue;
I am a souldier, and was never wont
To speak amorously.
Hip.
[Page 478]You have said enough.
Mat.
Love is but thought by words, by deeds tis known;
Shew me you love me, and let words alone.
Mat.
Worthiest of Ladies, when I cease to do
All that I can, then may your love cease too.
Exeunt.
Finis actus Tertii.
Actus Quartus, Scena prima.
Enter Barbarino & Machavil.
Bar.
HE cannot counterfeit so much.
Mac.
I know not,
But if he do not surely he is mad;
What wild phantastick things he does, and talks
Of Eo, Meo, and Areo, names
Unheard i'th the Court before!
Bar.
Some Milain Counts
I warrant you he means by them.
Mac.
The strangest thing of all is the release
Of Brunetto, and his extraordinary love unto him,
Whom he hath caused richly to be clothed.
Bar.
And useth him as if he were his better.
Enter Horatio.
Mac.
Yonder's the man we talk of; what a change
We see! A prisoner but lately lockt up safe,
And now to be the wonder of the Court.
Hor.
Next Eo, Meo, and Areo, the Duke
Doth swear he loveth me; but who those are
I cannot tell nor learn: my Lords, good day,
Saw you his Highness lately?
Bar.
No sir.
Hora.
You speak as tho you were displeased.
Mac.
We are not well contented Sir.
Hor.
[Page 480]The Duke is noble, utter your grievances to him.
Bar.
So we will Sir.
Enter Trappolin
Mac.
And now Sir,
Know worthy Prince we are your loyal subjects,
And what we say is for your honour.
Trap.
If it be for my honour Ile hear you,
But be as brief as you will.
Mac.
Your Highness hath lately released Brunetto.
Trap.
Tis a thing very certain.
Mac.
We doubt not but done out of clemency,
Not knowing why he lay there.
Trap.
Well, why was he put there?
Mac.
Even for your Honour sake (most Gracious Sir) The Lady Prudentia your sister loves him.
Trap.
Say you so? So ho Puchanello, So ho!
Puch.
Who calls?
(Within.)
Bar.
His Highness; come hither presently.
Trap.
Bid the guard enter.
Enter Puchanello and the Guard.
You say Brunetto was put in prison because my sister lov'd him, you think it good and fitting he were there again.
Bar.
So please your Highness, yes.
Trap.
Puchanello take me these two Coxcombly Lords into your Custody; they are never well but when they are banishing some body, or doing some mischief or other: Brunetto was laid in prison because my sister lov'd him, and lay me these there [Page 461] because I love them.
Mac.
Beseech your Highness not to deal so hardly
With us whom you have known so faithful to you.
Trap.
Puchanello, away with them I say: you of the Guard see them in.
Bar.
Most worthy Prince be merciful, if we
Have done amiss twas out of ignorance.
Trap.
Sirra rogue away with them, or Ile lay up you too.
Puch.
Your Honours must have patience and walk.
Mach.
There is no remedy.
Bar.
The heavens be merciful to Florence;
VVhat ill malignant starre hath so depriv'd
Our wise and noble Duke of all his reason,
That he remembers not who are his friends?
Ex.
Hor.
The Gods be ever most propitious;
Great Sir, unto you, and continue long
Your life, chief honour of the Medices.
Trap.
Prince Horatio I am your servant, I pray you forgive me my calling of you by your nick-name of Brunetto; my sister hath told me you are the Son of the Duke of Savoy, besworn unto you I am very sorry I have not used you as befitted you, but it was your fault that told me not who you were: I have talked with Prudentia, and she loves you she saies, which I am glad on, and Ile marry you as soon as you will
Hor.
Sir, it is true I am Horatio,
Son of the Piemond Prince; but being his second,
I durst not think me worthy of such honours
[Page 462] As your Highness hath do ne me; and therefore told
None but your beauteous sister who I was.
Trap.
Enough my friend; and Prince Horatio,
Could you suppose I would deny my sister,
Though she were made of Gold and precious stones,
Unto your Highness, and to such a friend?
You do deserve a better wife then she;
She's not half good enough for you, and if
I had another sister, you should have them both.
My friend a Prince! I'm very glad i' faith,
But sorry that I did not know you such,
That I might have done you right: wood I were hang'd
If you are not far a better man then I.
Hora.
Great Prince, you do forget your self.
Trap.
Your Highness must pardon me, I do remember my self well enough, yet Eo, Meo, aad Areo, have made me something proudish, but howsoever I am your servant, Prince Horat. i' faith I am your very dutiful servant: how sa you now, the Duke of Savoyes son! i' faith I am your poor servant Lavin the Duke of Florence.
Hora.
I am amaz'd; he's mad:
Beseech your Highness leave, I pray you Sir.
Enter Mattemores the Spanish Captain with petitioners.
Trap.
What have we here now, do's the Captain bring us Morris-dancers? what lobs are these tro?
Mat.
[Page 463]So please your Highness, being importun'd much these I have brought before you, that you might, do justice.
Trap.
Captain Mattemores, justice I'le do with all my heart, but execution let do who will for me.
Calfshead.
Great Duke of Tuscany, vouchsafe to hear me,
For what I speak is out of conscience;
This fellow Mr. Bulflesh a Butcher, I saw
Verily with mine own eyes even yesternight
(When he was drunk) to kill my man, which he
Swore was good Beef, and he would sell it dear.
Bulf.
Sirra Puritan you are a base scoundrel, was not I drunk in your company to make you merry?
Calfes.
But Mr. Bulflesh, you do know, and that full well, that I praied you on my knees for your own souls sake to drink no more, and profess'd to you that it was a great abominable sin in you to fox your self, or be foxed.
Bulflesh.
Goodman Calfeshead, you are a base scurvie Companion; do you not know that for your sake I killed your man, (yet I meant but only to beat him soundly) because he pour'd not the wine into your Codpiece? did not I do it out of friendship unto you? did I not you puritan you, and you to complain? O the ingratitude of Puritans!
Trap.
Peace both of you. Master Puritan hold your tongue I say: wil not Calfeshead be drunk Bulflesh?
Bulf.
So please your Highness no, he will let a man [Page 464] sooner hang him then make him drunk; Besides, he is a fellow of strange opinions, and hath sent his sonne to Geneva, to hear Iack Calvin preach. He stole a Surpless to make his Amorosa a Smock of; and hath writ a paultry Book against the Bishops, printed at Amsterdam in Decimo sexto. He will lie and steal without comparison; is both for Boyes as well as Queans when he hath mony▪ And like a true Italian Hypocrite, is for any sin or mischief but our Drinking.
Trap.
Then know I very well how to do justice: Mr. Calfeshead, you say the Butcher kild your man when he was fox't, be you fox't when you will and then kill him for' [...] ▪
Calf.
Heavens defend, I nere was drunk yet, and never will be.
Hora.
There is mad justice; he doth increase my wonder.
Calfs.
Bless me, murther! I would not do it for the world.
Mat.
This is strange justice, the Butcher doth very wel deserve to be sent into the Gallies at Ligorn.
Trap.
I have done with you Mr. Puritan, you may be gone to the Tavern; and Bulflesh you may get you to the Shambles as soon as you will, for I have no more to say to either of you.
Exeunt Calfsheead & Bulflesh.
I am ready for the next; speak therefore.
Barne.
Most excellent Prince, pity a childless father;
As yesterday my only Sonne did walk
[Page 465] Under an house, this fellow Gaffer Tiler,
Who was a working on it, did fall down
Upon my son, and kil'd him with his fall.
Tiler.
Mr. Barne be not so eager, you know I bore your son no malice, and that it was a hundred to one I broke not my own neck.
Trap.
This is an easie matter to conclude;
Friend Barn, you say this Gaffer Tiler
Fell off a house, and so did kill your son;
I will be very upright in my justice,
Go you upon the house from whence he tumbled,
(And he shall stand beneath) and fall on him.
Mat.
And the Duke be not stark mad, I am to think him so.
Barn.
So I may break my own neck.
Hor.
He strangely is distracted.
Trap.
Neighbour Barn, get you about your business, for I have done with you.
Barn.
I must have patience.
Exeunt Barn and Tiler.
Trap.
Now let me make an end with these, and I have done.
Mrs. Fine.
Daign, Noble Duke, to hear my just complaint,
I am a poor and an unfortunate widow;
This man Dick Whip, as the other day he drove
His coach, run over a little child of mine
That was playing in the street, and kild it.
Trap.
Sirra Whip, is this true?
Whip.
So please your Highness I confess it is.
Trap.
It doth not please me, nor displease me, for I [Page 466] neither did it, nor was the child mine.
Whip.
It was against my will, a thing of chance, Mrs. Fine cannot deny it.
Trap.
Mrs. Fine, you are a widow you say?
Mrs. Fine.
A poor unhappy one I am.
Trap.
You say that Whip the coachman hath kil'd your child; and how he did it I have understood.
This is my justice, I will do you right;
Whip shall lie with you untill he get you another.
Mat.
Madder and madder.
Hora.
I cannot choose but smile.
Whip.
Most willingly, so please your Highness I am well content to do her that satisfaction.
Mrs. Fine.
You shall be hang'd first, that you shall, is thus my expectation fail'd?
Trap.
Mrs. Fine be rul'd, I will have justice done, Whip shall lie with you; you may marry him and you will: he kil'd your child, and he shall get you another, I say but right, and Sirra Whip look unto't, and you play the bungler and fail, you shall to Ligorn and learn to row: Mrs. Fine be contented, and you do not like him you might have held your tongue, for I know no body that sent for you, and so get you both gone.
Whip.
The Heavens preserve your Highness.
Exeunt.
Trap.
My friend and Prince Horatio, go unto
My sister, bid her to prepare her self,
I'le have you married within this day or two;
I long to see you both in bed together.
Hora.
Most willingly I will do such a message,
[Page 467] The Gods preserve you happily.
Exit.
Mat.
A strange discovery if true.
Trap.
Seignior Captain, I say I have done very good justice, and in a little time too, I am not like your scarlet coats that will do nothing without mony; a company of fellows they are whose beards and hearts agree not together.
Mat.
Your Highness doth dispatch things very soon.
Trap.
Though I am the Duke yet I love to do no hurt, as other men in authority would, I hate to banish men as Machavil and Barb. ha done: alas poor Trappolin, I hear they have banisht an honest poor man cald Trap. what the Divel Seignior Mat. came in their heads to send a poor fellow away out of his country without any money? though men may sometimes gather a reasonable Sallet abroad, he shall get no oyle to eat it withall.
Mat.
Great Duke of Tuscany, our noble Master,
That Trap. of whom your Highness speaks,
Had little fault in him, (good faith) at all
Saving he was a most notorious coward.
Trap.
Why you Don of guns or pikes, do you think every mans mind is given to the wars? Trap. was addicted to the peace, a poor fellow full of courtesies; one that will never deny to do a favour for a friend▪ I will have a little sport with my Don of the wars; O me, Sir Captain, look yonder: Eo, Meo and Areo, I will put you off for a while, I [Page 468] will try some conclusions.
Mat.
Your Highness! wher's the Duke gon I marle;
What Trappolin, art thou come again?
Faith many a wench in Florence will be glad;
Follow thy old trade, be a Pander still.
Trap.
Seignior Captain I am your humble slave, and if I can do you any kindness at any time, i'faith Don Mathemores you shall command me—and if you have but a mind to any Beauty in Florence, pay but me well for my pains, and her well for hers, and I will not fail you; and Captain I can give you a delicate poyson to dispatch any enemy with whom you dare not fight.
Mat.
I see thou art resolv'd to be a rogue,
Tis pity that his Highness did repeal thee;
Next time I see him, sirra Pimp, I will
Make suit to have you sent into Ligorn.
Trap.
You Spanish coxcomb, go hang your self, do your worst.
Mat.
Wer't thou a souldier I wood fight with thee,
Being a rogue thou dost deserve my foot;
Take this you rascal.
Trap.
I will presently be out of his debt—who's yonder? it is the Duke or I am deceiv'd; Eo, Meo, and Areo, on agen, my hat, my glass, and cloke, sit close: how now sirra Captain, where are your manners? what do you think of me, who am I tro? I am not your Lieutenant am I? stoop and take up your hat, and let me see if it will not become your hand as well as your head in my presence.
Mat.
[Page 469]I did not see your Highness.
Trap.
Will you lie too? take that and learn to speak truth.
Kicks him.
Mat.
Most Noble Prince, and my most royal Master,
Pardon the error which unwillingly
I have committed; in Tuscany there lives not
A man that freelier for your sake would lose
His life then I.
Trap.
Well, get you gone, I do
Forgive you; but my Don at armes, remember
The Duk's to be observ'd, he is the man
That doth maintain you.
Mat.
And most worthy Prince,
Did but occasion shew it self, I would
Venture and lose my life to do you service.
Exit.
Trap.
And my Father Conjurer would come into Florence, I would make him the next man unto my Highness; he is a good man, and it is great pity that he should go to the Divel, as they say Conjurers and Witches do: well, I am a brave fellow, I love to see my self in my glass, I am the Duke ifaith, the very Duke, I see me.
Enter Flametta.
Flam.
I will go and petition him agen.
Trap.
My rogue Flametta, I could kiss her to pieces, bite off her lips, and suck out her eyes I love her so well.
Flam.
The great Duke of Tuskany the gracious heavens
[Page 470] Prosper your Highness ever, I am the same
That lately did intreat for the repeal
Of my Beloved sweetheart Trappolin:
Most excellent Sir, pity my earnest suit,
And let me have my Trappolin recal'd.
Trap.
This is a very precious villain, how she loves me! and I ever marry while I am a Duke by Eo, Meo and Areo's leave I will have her,—your name little maid, is Flametta, as I remember?
Flam▪
So please your Highness, yes.
Trap.
You sue to have banisht Trappolin come home?
Flam.
Most humbly, most excellent Sir, I do.
Trap.
Well 'tis all as please Eo, Meo and Areo, I can do nothing witho t them, and (my young Mistress) as long as they are in authority, I can do little for you.
Flam.
Then by your Highness leave, do I wish Eo, Meo, and Areo in the fire.
Trap.
Methinks they should be enough in that already, for the Divel made them all; now I think well on't, sometime when I have good opportunity I will off with my things and have a little sport with her: since, fair Maid, you are so earnest for your sweetheart Trappolin, he shall come home very shortly, he shall believe me, but upon condition I will do it.
Flam.
On any condition except my honour Sir.
Trap.
That he shall lie with you.
Flam.
Were we but married, most willingly.
Trap.
[Page 471]If he gives you his oath to have you, will not that suffice?
Flam.
I had rather we had married before.
Trap.
You need not fear, should he swear unto you and break his oath, I would hang him, and yet (though I nere mean to break my word with her) I faith I should very hardly hang my self for any thing; the rope is a very dismal thing.
Flam.
Shall he come home, say the word Noble Prince.
Trap.
Well on my word he shall▪ as soon as possibly I can, but on that condition that you will accept of him without marriage, upon his oath to have you.
Flam.
I see his Highness is mad (as every body saies) otherwise what should ail him to talk thus? most excellent Prince, he and I would not disagree.
Trap.
Well here is my hand, he shall come home shortly, now I must have a kiss and leave you: I am very hungry, I ha been so long a doing justice that I am very hungry, give me a buss sweetheart.
Kisses her.
Flam.
Heaven bless your Highness.
Exeunt severally.
Actus quartus scena secunda.
Enter Lavinio the great Duke, Isabella the Dutchess with Attendants.
Lav.
My hearts sweet solace, my dear Isabella
You are most welcome unto Florence;
Live according to your wishes happily,
And may I perish if I do not strive
In every thing to please you to my power;
I'm sorry at my coming home I find
Such strange and unexpected alterations,
That for to quiet them I must deprive
My self some houres of your company.
Isab.
Most Excellent Sir, I do account my self
Most highly blest, that am not onely married
Unto a Prince, but one that can
And doth vouchsafe his love unto me, being
Defective of those beauties should deserve it.
To your affairs betake you Worthy Sir,
I will expect you till your leisure serves.
Lav.
You are good unto a miracle
Sweet Isabella—attend the Dutches in;
Adieu my Love, some few but tedious minutes
Past over I will come unto you.
Isa.
I will await your leisure.
Exeunt with Isabella.
Lav.
What mad fantastick humours have possest
In general the heads of the Florentines?
[Page 473] They have amaz'd me, speak as if I
Had been with them before my Dutchesse came.
Barbarino and Machiavil appear in prison.
Bar.
You great commander of the Tuscan Cities,
Pity your subjects, and your loyal servants;
In what we sued for we had no design,
Neither the least intent for to offend.
Mac.
Be merciful therefore most gracious Prince,
Let not the noblest of the Florentines
VVear out their daies and thraldom in a Prison,
Being men not long ago high in your favour.
Lav.
I am lost within a Labyrinrh of wonders,
I know not what to think, the chiefest of
The Florentine Nobility in prison,
And sue to me as if I had commanded
Them to this place; sure some ill spirit hath
Possest mens minds while I was absent: do you
Know me?
Bar.
Your Highness is the Duke our Master.
Lav.
Are you not called Barb. and you
Macha. the Lords unto whom I left
The government of Tusk any in
My absence?
Mac.
We are your loyal subjects though your prisoners; and were left your Deputies when your Highness went to Milain.
Lav.
How came you there?
Bar.
Great Sir, you know most well,
[Page 474] At your command.
Lav.
I must be satisfied in this:
Puchanello so ho!
Puch.
Who calls? whats the matter I wonder.
Within.
Lav.
Release me the Lords presently, and send them
To me hither:
The more I think of these accidents,
The more I marvel how they come to pass;
The men whom I did leave here governours
Are prisoners (and which increaseth more
Amazement in me) they say it was I
That made them so; some unheard malady
Unknown unto the world before it seems,
Hath infected all my subjects with a frenzy.
Enter Barberino and Machiavil.
Bar.
He hath chang'd his humor it seems.
Mach.
And may he continue in this if it be a good one.
Lav.
I am astonished to see the things
I every minute do, especially
You two (to whom I left the weighty charge
Of rule) in prison; resolve me for heavens sake
How you came there.
Bar.
Sure he doth jest with us.
Mac.
Your Highness is disposed to be merry;
You know (most excellent Sir,) full well that none except your self could do it.
Lav.
I do it?
Barb.
[Page 475]He doth things in his madness he remembers not when he's in's right sences it seems.
Lav.
Florence I left a wise ingenious City;
But I have found it now at my return
Possessed with a strange unheard of madness:
Who put you in prison? collect your wits in't order
And answer wisely.
Mac.
I vow by the prosperity of Tuscany,
Your Highness.
Lav.
Most strange! Why did I so?
Bar.
Because we did (most gracious Sir) give notice
Unto you how the Princesse Prudentia,
Your machless beauteous sister lov'd Brunetto.
Lav.
Whom? what Brunetto!
Mac.
Your prisoner taken in the Mantoan warrs.
Lav.
My sister so forget her self! I am
Full of amazement: she that had refused
The youthfull Dukes of Modena and Parma,
Dote on a slave slighted by all the starrs!
My sister also so to lose her sences,
She that was wise, and honoured for her vertues!
Sure also this same strange infection
Of madness wood ha seis'd upon my self
If I had stayd at home. I will not now
So marvel at the common people, seeing
The most discreet of the Nobility,
And my own sister equally distracted.
Mac.
I hope he comes to himself again, he talks something more wisely then of late.
Lav.
It is a frequent thing to see a City
[Page 476] Miserably groan under a heavy sickness,
To have the Plague, or fierce diseases full
Of danger, rage and even unpopulate places;
But such a general phrenzy to possess
And to distract all Florence, is a wonder,
A miracle unmach'd in historie.
Bar.
How he talks as if all we were mad, and he had done nothing!
Lav.
Are you sure you are both in your right sences?
Mac.
Did once your Highness know us so?
Lav.
Yes.
Bar.
VVe are as free from any distraction
As ever yet we were since we were born.
Lav.
You must both of you tho give me leave to think what I know.
Enter Mattemores.
I [...]e trie an he be mad too. Cap. these Lords say I put them in prison, how say you?
Mat.
So your Highness did—he's distracted another way.
Lav.
Good Gods be merciful. Why?
Mat.
Because they spoke against Brunetto's liberty.
Lav.
He's in the same tale;
Though they are all deprived of their sences,
They do not differ.
But why (good Cap.) answer me a little,
Should I desire Brunetto's freedom, being
Beloved by my sister as they say?
Wood it not be a great dishonour, think you,
[Page 477] Unto the Family of the Medices,
That she should cast her self away upon one
VVe do neither know whom, or whence he is?
I pray you Captain, if that yet you have
Any small remnant of your wit remaining,
Reply according to it.
Mat.
And he be grown wise again, Heavens be praised.
It is a certain truth your Highness speaks,
That if your sister should bestow her self
(Being a Princesse meriting so much
For her unequal'd beauty, and her vertues)
Upon a man such as you pleas'd to mention,
It would be a great weakness in her; but you
Your self I heard (most excellent Sir)
To call Brunetto Prince Horatio,
The second Sonne unto the Duke of Savoy.
Lav.
How, I call him so! truth Captain you
Have heard these things which I did never say.
Bar.
You never heard him call Brunetto so.
Mac.
Never, this is the first time I ever heard of it.
Lav.
My wonder is so great, I do want words
VVhereby to give it vent; I see that all
My subjects being distracted think me mad.
Mat.
And more, so please your Highness, you did send
Brunetto, whom you Prince Horatio called,
Unto your sister, to bid her prepare
Her self; for you within a day or two
Would see them married.
Lav.
[Page 478]Enough,
Captain, I swear unto you by my Dukedome,
That rather I would send Brunetto (though
He were the Duke of Savoys second son)
To have his head struck off, then on that message
You say I did.
Mat.
He doth remember nothing.
Bar.
If the Duke be come to his right sences again,
I beseech the Gods keep him so.
Mac.
And I.
Enter Horatio and Prudentia.
Mac.
Beseech your Highness look, let your own eyes
Be witness of their mutual affection;
Behold the Princess your sister and Brunetto:
Let us withdraw where we may stand unseen,
And you shall hear them talk what I have said.
Hor.
Dear Lady, you have raised me to a fortune
So high, that when I look upon my self
I am amaz'd, and wonder at your goodness.
Pru.
Most noble Prince, let my unfeigned love
Excuse the weak expressions of my tongue;
I'm glad my Brother bears so noble a mind,
As to be willing to unite our bodies
As we have done our hearts.
Hora.
Not only willing, divine Prudentia,
But earnest for us; he doth seem to grieve
That two such faithful lovers as we are
[Page 479] Should live so long a sunder.
Prud.
It is a worthy nature in him.
Lav.
I can contain my self no longer: though this
Be out of madness done I will not suffer it.
Sister!
Prud.
Live long most worthy Brother happily.
Lav.
So should I wish for you, bore you a mind
Deserv'd your self.
Prud.
What mean you Sir?
Hor.
Good Heavens be kind, and do not now undo
What you have almost brought unto perfection;
I fear his m adness that once favoured me;
Hath chang'd his mind to my undoing.
Lav.
I will but spend few words; are you a Son
Of the Duke of Savoys?
Hora.
Your Highness knowes I am his second.
Lav.
Whether
You are or no I care not; and if you be,
My sister once deserv'd a better husband,
And she shall rather in a Monastery
Spend all her future dayes then be your wife:
And be you what you will Sir, I will shew you
That you have wronged me, and I do not fear
The Duke of Savoy if he be your father.
Puchanello, Puchanello come hither.
Mac.
I like this.
Pru.
He's wonderfully distracted—most worthy Brother,
Be not so much unmerciful.
Lav.
Peace Prudentia, I never thought
[Page 480] You had so weak a reason.
Hor.
He's mad to my undoing; gracious Gods,
Soon make him leave this humour.
Bar.
I hope he's come unto himself.
Enter Pucchanello.
Lav.
Sirra, convey Brunetto into prison,
Lock him up close.
Puc.
Here's do and undo—Will our Duke nere be in his
Right sences again?
Prud.
My dear Horatio, love me still, for I
Unto thee will be constant though I die.
Hor.
Though I be tortured unto death my Dear.
Exeunt with Horatio.
Mat.
I know not what to think of these alterations.
Lav.
Thus (but the heavens assist) I hope to bring
Int' order from confusion every thing.
Exeunt Omnes.
Finis Actus quarti.
Actus quintus, Scena prima.
Enter Trappolin solus.
Trap.
THe Duke is come home, and therefore my hardest part is behind; Father Conjurer and you be not my friend now I am undone; Eo, Meo, and Areo sit you all close and lose not a jot of your vertue: happen what will as soon as I meet him his Highness, I will try the vertue of my powder on him, let him take it how he please.
Enter Prudentia.
Prud.
Here is my brother, I will try him, perhaps
He may have chang'd his sullen humor now,
And set the Prince Horatio at liberty.
Most excellent noble Sir.
Trap.
My dear sister, how dost thou do? why look you so sad, ha you got the green sickness to night with lying alone? and you have I will take an order for your cure very shortly, and to your liking too, I'le have you married within these two days at the furthest.
Prud.
Married Sir! unto whom?
Trap.
Unto my friend your lover, Prince Horatio▪
Prud.
I am glad of this: Alas Sir, why then have you
Made him a close unhappy prisoner?
Trap.
I see the Duke hath met with him:
[Page 482] You do deceive your self Lady sister, indeed
You do▪ put up my friend in prison? heaven defend.
Prud.
Sir, pardon me for speaking truth, I heard
When you commanded it.
Trap.
Sister mine, if I did I was drunk, and now I am sober I will let him out. Sirra Pucchanello, so ho.
Prud.
May he continue always in this vein
Of kindness; thus his madness is not grievous.
Trap.
Madam sister, I am very sorry I was such a beast as in my drink to commit such a fault; I pray you forgive me.
Enter Pucchanello.
Pucch.
What is your Highness will?
Trap.
It is that you set Prince Horatio at liberty, and send him hither presently.
Pucch.
I wonder—most willingly.
Exit.
Prud.
You are a gracious Prince, and the high Gods
Will recompence your pity unto lovers.
Trap.
What a Swine was I do such a thing! I am ashamed as often as I think on't, I shall be ashamed to look on my friend; sister, you must pray him to forgive me.
Trap.
Sir, trouble not your self, and be assur'd,
Unless you part us, you can never do
Offence either unto the Prince or me.
Enter Horatio.
Hora,
It seems his mind is changed, the heavens be praised.
Trap.
[Page]Prince Horatio, an you do not forgive me my locking of you in prison, I shall never be merry again; I did it when I was drunk, and my sister knows that as soon as she told me on't, I sent for you; I pray you therefore forgive me good Prince Horatio.
Hora.
Most excellent Sir, I was a man unworthy
Of this sweet Ladies love, did I not freely.
Trap.
I thank you i'faith Prince Horatio with all my heart I swear unto you, here take you my sister, take her by the hand, lead her whether you will, and do what you will unto her with her consent: I am very sorry I parted you so long; I know Lovers would be private, though they do nothing but talk, therefore I will not hinder you: fare you well both my Princely friend and Lady sister.
Prud.
The Gods preserve you.
Hora.
And reward your goodness.
Exeunt.
Trap.
Thus what the Duke doth I will undo—such excuses will serve my turn well enough.
Enter Barbarino and Macchavil.
Here are my Lord banishers, it seems the Duke hath set them at liberty, but in they go again as sure as the cloaks on their backs.
Bar.
May the good angels that attend upon
Princes on earth, defend your Highness always
From every offensive thing.
Macc.
And may you live
[Page] A long and happy life, enlarge your state,
Excel in fame the first great Duke.
Trap.
Your good wishes I like, but credit me my Lord Banishers, neither of you. Who let you out of prison?
Bar.
He's mad as ere he was—your Highness Sir.
Trap.
You lye Sir: Pucchanello come hither quickly.
Macc.
Heavens be merciful, we must in again I see.
He do's and undo's, and remembers nothing.
Enter Pucchanello.
Trap.
Sirra Rogue, why did you set these two at liberty?
Pucc.
Your Highness did command it.
Mac.
If our Duke must be mad, the Gods grant him
That which he had the last.
Trap.
You ill-fac'd rascal you lie.
Pucc.
Beseech your Highness remember your self, it
Was at your command.
Trap.
It may be so, but I am sure I was drunk then, and now I am sober they shall in again; therefore take them with you, be gone I say.
Barb.
There is no remedy.
Macc.
Good gods pitty Florence.
Exeunt.
Trap.
Eo, Meo, and Areo, thanks i'faith▪ yet I am suppos'd the Duke, Father Conjurer, by thy Art I am suppos'd a Prince; stick to me still and be my friend.
[Page 485] Enter Isabella.
Here is the Dutchess! Eo, Meo, and Areo, be true to me, and I'le have a kiss or two at the least.
Isa.
Sir you are fortunately met.
Trap.
Who are you Lady Madam?
Isa.
Do you not know Sir?
Trap.
I'de have you tell me.
Isa.
I never knew him so before, I am your Wife.
Trap.
I'me glad on't I promise you, come and kiss me then.
Isa.
You are wondrous merrily disposed.
Trap.
Madam Dutchess I am something jovial indeed, I have been a drinking Montefiascone very hard, kiss me again my dear Lady wife.
Isa.
He's drunk.
Trap.
You are a handsome woman I promise you: prethee tell me my Lady Dutchess, am I a proper handsome fellow?
Isa.
Do not jest with me Sir, you know you are
Him whom above the world I do esteem.
Trap.
Well said my Ladie wife.
Isa.
I nere saw him so distempered before.
Trap.
Have you nothing yet in your belly?
Isa.
You know I am with child Sir.
Trap.
Faith but I do not, for your belly swells not.
Isa.
I am full of wonder.
Trap.
Lady wife get you in, I am halfe drunk, and now am unfit for you, but give me a kiss or two [Page 486] before,—Madam Dutchess fare you wel.
Isab.
I had thought he had not been addicted to
A vice so loathsome as drunkenness.
Exit.
Trap.
Yet all happens very well; protest the Dutchess is a gallant woman, I almost like her as well as Flametta; I could lie with her and I woo'd, but I am half honest, and will not wrong the Duke nor Flametta. Why is not my wench as good as she? wherein do they differ, but onely in clothes? Flametta's a woman as right as she, and perhaps naked as handsome: what good in the night do jewels and fine clothes to a woman when she hath them not on? besworn I am very merry; Eo Meo and Areo are brave tame Devils, and my Father Conjurer an excellent learned fellow.
Vienca wine, and Padua bread,
Trivigi tripes, and a Venice wench in bed.
Exit singing.
Actus quinti scena secunda.
Enter Lavinio.
YE glorious Plannets that do rightly guide
The giddy ships upon the Ocean waves,
If some of your malignant influences
Have rais'd this madness in my subjects heads,
Let some of your benigne influences,
Again restore them to their former sences:
Those Florentines whom all their enemies
Could not impeach, could not withstand in armes,
[Page 487] Suffer not, you immortal powers divine,
Thus to be ruin'd, by distraction.
Machavil and Barbarino appear in prison.
I am astonished, O Heavens, I know not what to think!
Puchanello, Puchanello, let me out the two Lords, and send them to me presently, I'le talk unto um here at large.
Bar.
His ill fit's off.
Mac.
The goods be praised.
Lav.
I do not think that since the infancy
And first creation of the world, a madness
Pestiferous and equal unto this
Was ever known; good Heavens reveal (and soon)
The cause, that I may do my best to help it.
Enter Barbarino, Machavil and Puchanello.
Mac.
Long may this fit continue.
Barb.
If it hold alwaies, sure he's in's wits agen.
Lav.
I wonder, Lords, and justly, that you whom I have known to have the noblest judgements, should thus become distracted; you in your fits of frenzie run to prison of your selves,
And think I sent you.
Bar.
Most royal Sir, we grieve to see these daies;
You did command us thither.
Lav.
I?
Mac.
Your Highness self.
Lav.
You are both deceiv'd; to do such idle errours,
And lay the blame on me doth more amaze me.
Puchanello how came these in prison?
Puc.
[Page 488]So please your Highness, you were angry with them
And did commit them.
Lav.
I commit them?
That thou art mad is not so great a wonder;
I tell you both with sorrow, witness heaven,
You are strangely bereav'd of your reason.
Well, go ye in, and pray unto the Gods
That they hereafter would be kind unto you
And keep you from relapse.
Mac.
Heavens bless your Highness.
Bar.
And be unto you a perpetual guard.
Exeunt.
Lav.
Famine, plague, war, the ruinous instruments
Wherewith the incensed dieties do punish
Weak mankind for misdeeds, had they all fallen
Upon this city, it had been a thing
To be lamented but not wondred at.
Enter Isabella.
O my dear Isabella! I have brought thee
From Milain flourishing in all delights,
Into a city full of men distracted.
Isab.
He is not sober yet. Go in and sleep Sir,
You do not well thus to bewray your weakness
Unto the publick view.
Lav.
My wife and all! O heavens!
Isa.
What say you Sir?
Lav.
My Isabella, thou hast cause to curse me
For bringing thee into a place infected:
The aire is sure pestiferous, and I wonder
Now how I have escaped.
Isab.
[Page 489]Good Sir, I pray you sleep.
Lav.
Wherefore my Isabella?
Isab.
Why you have drunk too much.
Lav.
Madness unmatch'd!
Dear Isabella, withdraw thy self into
Thy chamber, I will presently come to thee,
There we will pray unto the angry Gods
That they would from's remove this heavy ill.
Isab.
I will obey you Sir to get you home;
Good Gods nere let him thus offend again.
Exit.
Lav.
What have I done so much offensive to
The supreme powers, that they should punish me
Not onely with the madness of my subjects,
But the distraction of my wife and sister!
Enter Horatio and Prudentia.
What do I see? they do embrace and kiss:
My sisters madness will undo her, how
He came at liberty I marvel much;
Whom I would have to lie in prison, walke in freedome, and whom I would have in freedome run of themselves to prison.
Prud.
Most noble Brother.
Lav.
Sister, I grieve to see thee thus.
Hora.
Excellent Prince!
Lav.
Sure the good Angels that had wont to guard
The Medices in all their actions,
Have for the horrid sins of Florence left us,
And fled to Heaven.
Hora.
His mind again is altered.
Pru.
[Page 490]Dear brother, do not frown and look so angry.
Lav.
Peace sister, I'me asham'd to hear you speak,
Each word you say is poyson in my eares.
Puchanello,
Jailor.
Puc.
I come.
Within.
Pru.
What mean you Sir?
Hor.
I must again to prison, fickle fortune,
How soon a happy man thou makest wretched▪
Enter Puchanello.
Lav.
Sirra, why did you set this man Brunetto,
Or this Horatio (I know not what to call him,)
At liberty?
Puc.
Will he nere be wise! your Highness bade me.
Lav.
I! Bethink you, and answer truly.
Puc.
Your Highness knowes I durst not for my life
Ha don't without your licence.
Pru.
Sweet Brother.
Lav.
Silence would become you better far.
Hor.
Life of my heart, do not disturb your self,
I am unworthy you should speak for me.
Lav.
Sirra, take him again, and look to him better then you have; your madness shall not excuse you, if once more you serve me thus.
Hor.
I must be patient: good Heavens, soone alter this sullen fit into his former kindness:
Farewel my sweet Prudentia.
Exeunt with Hora,
Pru.
I wonder Brother, what pleasure you take
In crossing me after this sort.
Lav.
[Page 491]It is in vain to answer frantick people.
Pru.
I, I am mad, 'tis your perversness makes me.
Exeunt.
Scena tertia.
Enter Trappolin solus.
Trap.
YEt I cannot meet with the Duke, I long to see him look like me, I would fain powder his Highness. Eo, Meo and Areo, I thank you faith, my hat, my glass, and cloke; honest Father Conjurer, I will love thee while I live.
Enter Barbarino and Machavil.
Hel's broke loose again, I do what the Duke undoes, and he undoes what I do.
Mac.
Long live your Highness.
Trap.
Amen.
Bar.
And happily.
Tra.
Amen I say; but how my small friends came you hither? I thought you had been under lock & key.
Mac.
I fear he's ill as ere he was.
Trap.
Sirra Puchanello, so ho, so ho! come hither you rogue.
Bar.
We must in again.
Mac.
Good Gods, will this frenzie never leave him!
Enter Puchanello.
Trap.
Goodman durty-face, why did you not keep [Page 492] me these in prison till I bid you let them out?
Puc.
So please your Highness so I did.
Trap.
Dare you lie so boldly? you take me for a Doctor, Gracian of Franckolin I warrant you, or a fool in a play, you'r so sawcy with me.
Mac.
Good Gods!
Bar.
Was ever heard the like?
Puc.
Beseech your Highness to remember your self.
Trap.
Now I bethink my self, perhaps I might do it when I was drunk; if I did bid you give them their liberty it was when I was fox't, and now I am sober lay them up agin; walk my good Lord Banishers, your Honours know the way.
Puc.
Will this humour never leave him?
Bar.
We must endure it.
Mac.
There is no remedy.
Trap.
My Lord Prisoners get you gone, I am an hungry and cannot stand to hear any supplication.
Puc.
You must obey my Lords.
Exeunt.
Trap.
Yet all goes well, all goes exceeding well;
My wil's obey'd, I am suppos'd the Duke;
My hat my glass and cloak retain their force,
And Father Conjurer does not forsake me.
Exit.
Scena quarta.
Enter Mattemoros the Spanish Captain solus.
Mat.
THough horrid War, thou bear'st a bloody sword,
And marchest o're the world in dreadful arms;
Though fearful mankind on their humble knees,
Beseech the Gods to keep thee from their homes,
Yet art thou (when trick'd up in dismall robes,
Presaging death and ruine to a State)
More lovely to a valiant souldiers eyes,
Then are the pleasures of a wanton Court.
And sure if our great Duke Lavinio
Had been i'th field expecting of a foe,
He nere had been distracted as he is:
'Tis peace that doth bewitch us from our selves,
Fills most Heroick hearts with amorous toyes,
And makes [...]s to forget what honor is;
But for Hipolita's sake I must not speak
Any thing ill of Love; Love I must say
Is good, but war leads the more noble way.
Enter Lavinio.
Lav.
How do you Captain?
Mat.
I am your Highness creature.
Lav.
Saw you not lately Barbar▪ or Maccha?
Mat.
[Page 494]Yes.
Lav.
Where are they?
Mat.
Your Highness knows in prison.
Lav.
O heavens, in prison again! Good gods, when will you remove this frenzy from the Florentines?
Mat.
I see there is little hope on him.
Lav.
Why are they in prison?
Mat.
Because your Highness did command.
Lav.
Never, Captain, I never did command it; go and bid Pucchanello let them out.
Mat.
Sir, he dares not at my bidding.
Lav.
Here take my Ring and do't.
Mat.
One humor in the morning, and another in the afternoon, will it never be better?
Exit.
Lav.
Wo'd I did know what hainous sin it is
I have commited that is so offensive
Unto the Gods to cause this punishment,
That I might sue unto them for forgiveness,
And they be reconcil'd and pitty Florence.
I'm f [...]ll, and full of wonder; perhaps some fiend,
Permitted by the heavens, assume's my shape,
And what I do undoth; was ever known
Such a distraction in the world before?
Enter Trappolin.
Trap.
At last I have found him.
Lav.
This the Impostor is that hath deceiv'd
The eyes of all, it can be nothing else.
Trap.
I vow and swear I am something afraid, but [Page 495] will be bold; Eo, Meo and Areo, sit close, come out powder, come out, father Conjurer I rely on your powder;
Take that for my sake.
(Flings it on him.)
Lav.
What rudeness is this?
Trap.
I have don't i'faith, Trap. I have repealed thee for Flametta's sake.
Lav.
How is this?
If thou art a fiend, the gracious heavens be kind,
And give a period to thy wild proceedings;
But if thou art a Conjurer, I'le have thee
Burnt for thy Magick, as thou dost deserve.
Trap.
Trappolin talk wisely.
Lav.
Why dost thou call me so?
Trap.
Aha! A man forget himself so! art thou not he?
Lav.
I am the Duke.
Trap.
Beware of treason; do you know your own face if you see't? look here; what say you now?
Lav.
I am bewich't, thou art a Conjurer,
And hast transformed me to a banish't Rogue.
Trap.
For Flametta's sake I pardon thee this language, but learn to speak better lest you walk again.
Exit.
Lav.
Heaven, earth and hell, have all agreed together
To load me with a plague unknown before
Unto the world: The heavens have given consent
Unto my misery, hell hath plotted it,
And the deceived earth believes me mad,
And now will take me for a banish't Rogue.
[Page 496] Enter Flametta.
Flam.
O joy above expression! behold
My Trap. is come; Love, welcome home;
Thou art beholding unto me (my Dear)
'Twas I that won the Duke for thy repeal.
Lav.
I am amazed.
Flam.
Give me a hundred kisses; let us spend
An hour in kissing, afterwards we'l talk.
Lav.
Away.
Flam.
Have you forgotten me so soon? I am
Thy true Flametta (lovely Trap.)
Lav.
Be gone I say.
Flam.
Dost thou reward me thus for all the pains
I've took to get thee home again?
Lav.
Leave me
Thou impudent whore, or I will kick thee hence.
Flam.
O faithless men! Women, by me take heed
You give no trust unto this perjur'd sex.
Have I all thy long banishment been true,
Refused Lord Barbarino with all his gifts;
And am I slighted thus? I will complain
Unto his Highness of thee.
Enter Mattemoros.
Lav.
Have you don't?
Mat.
What?
Lav.
Have you let the Lords at liberty?
Mat.
[Page 497]What's that to thee?
Lav.
Give me my Ring.
Mat.
He has heard the Duke sent me with his Ring, and this impudent Rogue dares think to get it. Sirra, is it not enough to be a Coward and a Pander, but you wo'd be a thief too?
Lav.
I am bewitched.
Flam.
I fear my Trappolin is turned mad man.
Lav.
Suffer not this ye Gods.
Enter Trappolin.
Mat.
I have set the Lords Barbarino and Macc. at liberty according to your Highness order; and here is your Ring again.
Trap.
Better and better—I ma [...]le where the Prince Horatio is.
Mat.
He forgets every thing, he's in prison.
Trap.
Sure he is not.
Lav.
How this Impostor divel acts me!
Mat.
Your Highness did commit him.
Trap.
Fie upon't, what things do I do in my drink? here take my Ring, go and set him out, and come hither with him presently.
Lav.
I am the Duke, and will be obey'd,
Go not upon your life, he shall lye there.
Flam.
Sure my Trappolin's run mad for grief in his banishment.
Mat.
Peace (frantique) peace, do not disturb his Highness.
Trap.
[Page 498]Regard not mad men, go.
Mat.
I'm gone.
Exit.
Lav.
Thou traitor.
Fam.
Dear Trappolin be silent, regard my tears, thou wilt undo thy self.
Trap.
Maiden and your Sweet-heart continue thus, I'le have him sent abroad again.
Enter Prudentia.
Flam.
Sweet Trappolin for my sake hold thy tongue▪
Lav.
I rage in vain, good heavens be merciful.
Prud.
Dear brother pity me, regard my sorrow,
Release the Prince Horatio, and no longer
Separate their bodies whose hearts the Gods have joyned.
Trap.
Sister, have patience a little, a very little, Prince Horatio will be here presently, and Ile make an end with you.
Lav.
Prudentia, art thou not asham'd?
Pru.
What sawcines is this▪
Most worthy noble Brother all my heart is full o [...] thanks for you: wood Ide a tongue could utter them.
Enter Mattemores and Horatio.
Mat.
Your Highness ring.
Trap.
Tis well: Captain, Sister, and Prince Horatio,
Here take my signet, by the warrant of it, go
And get you married,
Hor.
Our humble thanks.
Lav.
[Page 499]I do want patience.
Hor.
Tis best to do it while he's in's good humor:
Are you content Sweet Princesse?
Pru.
With all my soul I go.
Exeunt.
Lav.
Sister, sister.
Mat.
Peace lest you be soundly punisht Sirra.
Fla.
Good Trappolin be quiet.
Lav.
I am the Duke, I am Lavinio;
This is a fiend of hell or an Impostor.
Mac.
Will your Highness suffer this?
Trap.
I pity him, he knows not what he saies.
Lav.
I am bewitched.
Mat.
I am sure thou art distracted.
Trap.
A done you had best.
Lav.
Thou enemy unto our happiness,
Know the Gods will relent; in time be wise.
Trap.
There is no remedy, he must go to Puchanello: so ho, Pachanello, so ho.
Puch.
I come.
Within.
Flam.
There could come no better of it, beseech your Highness pardon him, he's distracted.
Lav.
You are all distracted, all bewitched.
Enter Puchanello.
Trap.
Sirra take Trap. and lock him up safe.
Flam.
You'd take no warning.
Lav.
O Florence, how I pity thy decay.
Trap.
Away with him.
Mat.
Puchanello take him, and be gone.
Trap.
You of the Guard see him laid safely up.
Lav.
[Page 500]I will not go.
Puch.
We then might force you.
Exeunt,
Flam.
Alas poor Flametta! Thy Trappolin cares not for thee, I beseech the Gods to give him his right sences again.
Trap.
Come Captain.
Mat.
I attend your Highness.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Barbarino and Machiavil.
Mach.
The strange distraction of our Duke will give
Sufficient matter unto Chronicles
To make whole volumes of him.
Bar.
Yet he believes himself right in his sences
And we out of our wits think him mad.
Lavinio appears in Prison.
Lav.
Wood I had been born to a mean estate,
So in't I might have lived happily.
The greater honours that men have, the greater
Their troubles are; the begger that hath nothing
Lives a more quiet life then Monarchs do.
Lord Barbarino▪ and Lord Machavil,
Get me releas'd, I am the Duke Lavinio,
Bewitched as you are by an Impostor.
Bar.
Go Trappolin and sleep: we have heard al l,
Thou art run mad.
Mac.
Go sleep poor Trappolin.
Lavin.
Be kind good Gods, pity our miseries.
Bar.
[Page 501]Leave talking and go sleep.
Enter Trappolin.
Mac.
His Highness.
Bar.
How fares our noble master?
Trap.
I have not been sober a day together this good while; Eo Meo and Areo have made me fox't, but now I will leave it.
Mac.
Who are they?
Bar.
I know not.
Trap.
It's in vain to lay them up any more, I having had sport enough with them. Trappolin whom you banisht is come home stark mad.
Mac.
Exceedingly.
Bar.
And raves most strangly in prison.
Enter Flametta.
Flam.
Here is his Highness, I will not leave him till
He doth release from prison Trappolin.
Most excellent Sir, perfect your noble kindness;
Give liberty unto poor Trappolin.
Trap.
With all my heart I would, wood he be quiet.
Flam.
Alas he is distracted, and doth not know
VVhat he sayes; and therefore why should you regard him?
Trap.
VVell, fair maid, for thy sake that lovest him so he shal come out. Puchanello so ho! come hither.
Bar.
He will do any thing, and undo any thing.
Mac.
Sure there was never such a Duke i'th world.
[Page 502] Enter Horatio and Prudentia.
Trap.
VVelcome Sister and Brother (I hope I may say,) are you married? are you content? tell me if any thing remains that I can do for you, speak it, for I am ready, the Duke
Your servant.
Pru.
Most worthy brother, you have perfected our joyes, for we are married.
Pru.
I am very glad Lady sister that you are so.
Hora.
Here is your Highness ring.
Enter Puchanello.
Trap.
You Sirra of chains and keyes set me Trappolin at liberty presently, and send him hither.
Puc.
VVill he never be wise? I wood he wood make another Jaylor, I am weary of the place, I can never be at quiet for putting in and setting out.
Flam
The Heavens reward your goodness.
Ex. Puc.
Trap.
Brother and Prince Horatio, I am something given to be drunk, Eo, Meo and Areo are good fellows: but I pray you pardon me.
Hora.
Sir, you wrong your self.
Trap.
My friend, and Prince Horatio, I'le nere wrong my self I warrant you; but you I have, and my sister Prudentia: but it was when I was fox't, and I will never be so again.
Enter Mattemores and Hipolita.
Mac.
I am glad he will once let us be quiet.
Bar:
I should be very glad if he would continue it.
Trap.
Ho now Seignior Captain▪ ha you got a sweetheart?
Mat.
[Page 503]A fair Mistress so please your Highness.
Trap.
I see, my Don at Armes, when you cannot follow the wars of the field, you will of the bed.
Enter Lavinio.
Flam.
Prethee my Trappolin, now hold thy tongue.
Be wise sweet Love.
Lav.
Leave me thou frantick fool.
Trap.
For Flametta's sake I have given you your liberty, use it well.
Lau.
O Heavens, endure not this impostor thus
With his enchantments to bewitch our eyes.
Mac.
Will he suffer him?
Bar.
Perhaps one mad man wil pity another.
Lav.
Ye Florentines, I am Lavinio,
I am the Tuskan Duke, this an enchanter,
That by his magick Art has raised all
These strange chimeraes in my Court.
Mat.
Your Highness is too patient, it were more fit he rav'd in Prison.
Flam.
Sweet Trappolin be rul'd.
Trap.
Hold your tongue I say.
Hor.
Poor Trappolin, art thou distracted too?
Lav.
You Lords of Florence, wise Machavil, and
You Lord Barbarino, will you never come
Out of this frenzie? Valiant Mattemores,
I am the Duke, I am Lavinio:
This whom you do suppose is me, is some
Hellish Magician that hath bewitched us all.
Trap.
He will not be rul'd: Puchanello take him again▪
Flam.
[Page 504]Beseech your Highness: Trappolin, come away.
Prud.
Was ever seen the like?
Lav.
Ah my poor subjects! how I pity you,
That must obey the monstrous wickedness
Of one that works by Necromantick means,
And is forsaken by the blessed Gods!
Trap.
Away with him.
Enter Mag.
Mag.
Stay.
Trap.
Yon's Father Conjurer.
Bar.
What new accident is this!
Trap.
I hope he'l do no hurt.
Hora.
What will the event be (marle?)
Mat.
What old Long-beard's this?
Mag.
A word with you,
Will you, if I clear every thing,
Pardon what's past?
Lav.
Do you know me then?
Mag.
You are the Duke.
Trap.
Father Conjurer, do no hurt, and I'le give you a hundred pistols to buy you sallets and oile it'h wood.
Mag.
I'le talk with you even now;
Will you promise me?
Lav.
I swear by all the honours of my state,
By both my Dukedomes, Florence and Sienna,
I will forgive what ever's past.
Mag.
Him and all?
Lav.
Him and all.
Trap.
[Page 505]Good Father Conjurer, remember your son.
Mac.
What will come of this?
Mag.
Be not affrighted.
Mat.
Never, not I.
Mag.
What ere you see,
Fear not, nothing shall hurt you.
Prud.
This is a Conjurer.
Hip.
Sweet Captain stand close by me.
Bar.
What strange events are these!
Mag.
Eo, Meo, and Areo, appear.
Trap.
I am undone I fear.
Father Conjurer, remember your son, I'le give you two hundred pistols.
Mag.
Appear I say.
Enter Eo, Meo, and Areo..
Prud.
Alas!
Hor.
Fear nothing.
Hipo.
Oh me!
Mat.
Be bold, I am here Hipolita.
Mag.
Go take the hat, the glass, and cloke from him.
Trap.
Ah me! Ah me! here, here, here, here, come not too near me.
Eo, Meo, and Areo, farewel all on you; Father Conjurer has undone me.
Bar.
Trappolin.
Mac.
Two Trappolins.
Flam.
I know not which is mine.
Mag.
Attend a while.
Thus with the waste of this enchanted wand
[Page 506] I do release your Highness.
Mat.
The Duke.
Hor.
Wonders.
Mag.
You have engaged your word, y'ave pardon'd all, me who have done and undone every thing, and him, and every body.
Lav.
I have.
Mac.
The Heavens be prais'd; long live your Highness.
Omnes.
Long live the Duke.
Hor.
What will become of me?
Mag.
I'le perfect every thing;
Brave Prince Horatio, your elder Brother,
Prince Filberto is dead. Sir, you cannot,
With reason dislike this match, they are
Married, and your consent doth perfect it.
Lav.
Now I am assured he is a Turin Prince▪
Heir to the Dukedome of Savoy, I am glad
They are espoused: sister I wish you joy;
Sir, I intreat forgiveness for what's past.
Hor.
All's forgotten.
Prud.
Thanks gracious Heavens.
Lav.
I'le have your wedding solemnized with state.
Mac.
I am glad this Gordian knot's untied.
Trap.
I shall be hang'd Father Conjurer.
Mag.
The Duke hath pardoned you and me all.
Trap.
Then let Eo, Meo, and Areo go to the Divel from whence they came. Flametta, I am thine.
Flam.
Ah my dear Trappolin!
Trap.
Here is your Highness ring.
Mag.
From henceforth I abjure my wicked art.
Hor.
[Page 507]I for thy love to me will send thee into
Piemondt, and give thee an Earldome in Vercelly.
Trap.
The Heavens reward you: you know I alwaies made much of your Highness Majesty. Fla thou shalt be a Countess.
Mag.
Son Trappolin, I am thy natural father, twenty years since banisht ten years from Florence: through my misfortune I have served the Turk in his Gallies.
Trap.
By your leave Father you have served the Divel too I'me sure: for you are one of the best Conjurers in the world. Welcome unto the Court, your son of Honour, and to Flametta's Earlship: will your Honours forgive me too?
Mac.
Yes.
Enter Isabella.
Bar.
For the Princes sake I do.
Trap.
I thank you both: now all's well agen, henceforth I will live honestly and be the Divels Butcher no longer.
Lav.
My Isabella welcome; every thing
That did molest our happiness in Florence
Is took away, now we will spend our time
In Courtly joyes; our famous Tuskan Poets
Shall study amorous Comedies and Masks,
To entertain my beaute ous Millaness:
I have a story full of ridiculous wonders,
Within to tell thee at our better leisure.
Trap.
The weaker side must yield unto the stronger,
And Trappolin's suppos'd a Prince no longer.
Exeunt omnes.
Finis actus quinti & ultimi.
The Prologue.
LAdies and Gentlemen, you that now may
Approve (or if you please) condemn our Play,
We thank you first; for here it was not writ
In sweet repose and fluencies of wit;
But far remote, at Rome begun, half made
At Naples, at Paris the conclusion had.
Yet the perfection is behind, which (if
You give's a Plaudite) you in England give;
Our Nation's courteous unto strangers, nor
Should you refrain unto this Traveller.
I must not sue; Ther's nothing now remains,
Saving the Guerdon of our Poets pains:
He for himself is careless, onely wo'd,
That for the Actors sakes you'd say 'tis good.
We are doubtful yet, your hands will set all right;
Do what you please, and (Gentlemen) Good night.
FINIS.