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Βατραχομυομαχία: OR: THE WONDERFVLL and bloudy Battell betweene Frogs and Mice.
The occasion of their falling out: Their Preparation, Munition, and resolution for the warres: The severall combats of every person of worth, with many other memorable accidents.
Interlaced with divers pithy and morall sentences, no lesse pleasant to be read, then profitable to be observed.
Paraphrastically done into English Heroycall verse, by William Fowldes, late one of the Cursitors of his Majesties high Court of Chancery.
LONDON: Printed by T. H. for Lawrence Chapman, and are to be sold at his shop in Holborne, at Chancery Lane end, 1634.
Perlege Maeonio cantatas carmine Ranas,
Et frontem nugis solvere disce meis.
Martialis in Xenia, 183.
To the vertuous, courteous, and worshipfull Gentleman, Master Robert Greenwood of Westerton, health, with the happinesse of both worlds.
SVch loving favours from your sonne I found,
So kinde affection at your Worships hand,
Though undeserved, that I still am bound,
And unto you and yours obliged stand:
And though that green branch, which ay-springing stood,
As chiefest crowne or garland to your wood,
Be by the stroke of Fate quite cut away,
Ne're shall a thanklesse nature in me sway.
No lofty Cedar, though in height he passe
Each sev'rall plant which desert forrests yeeld;
No Laurell, though Apollo's tree it was;
No Pine for shippes, no Oke ordayn'd to build,
Nor any shrub was halfe so deare to me,
As was that branch falne from the Greenwoods tree:
Which though, as dead, entomb'd in earth it lyes,
A day will come, we hope to see it rise.
Here (worthy Sir) doe I present to you
The timely Buds of my frost-bitten Spring,
And though this trifle not deserve your view,
Yet such a trifle once did Homer sing,
Adorn'd with robes, spun from the wooll of Greece,
Homely by me now clad in English fleece:
Albeit no pleasure in this toy you take,
Yet deigne a kinde aspect for Hargreves sake,
The unworthy wel-willer of your Worships welfare, WILLIAM FOVVLDES.
To the Reader in generall.
HAving of late, for mine owne exercise at vacant houres, consummated the translation of this little Booke, I now boldly adventure to commit it to the Presse, being the rather induced thereunto by the incouragement of certaine of mine acquaintance: not that I seeke hereby to winne praise, or publish this for any devotion in print, since I am verily perswaded, it deserves not the least title of commendation: and I hold it as a maxime with Lylie, that he which commeth in print, because he would be known, is like the foole that goeth into the market, because he would be seene. Onely I hope, that this my simple labour will be a spurre to the riper wits of our time, that the golden workes of this & other famous Poets, may not still lye hidden, as under a vaile or mysterie, from the weake capacitie of meaner judgements. Concerning my translation, as I cannot altogether commend it: for quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus: so neither will I wholly discommend it; in the one I might seeme arrogant; in the other be accounted foolish: and therfore puto rectius esse, ut sint mediocria omnia. [Page] If one write never so well, he shall not please all; if never so ill, he shall please some: a dog will barke, though he lacke his teeth; and a dolt will censure, though hee want judgement. I know to some curious heads it will be thought amisse, that every verse answers not their expectation, because J have not word for word concurd with the Author in my translation: yet if they will but looke a little into the difficulty of this thing, considering the kinde of verse which J have used, I hope they will rest satisfied. I onely will answer them out of Hor. Non verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus interpres. And furthermore (besides the diversitie betweene a construction and a translation) they may know, that there are many mysteries in this writer, which uttered in English, would shew little pleasure, and in mine opinion, are better to be untouched, then to diminish the grace of the rest with tediousnesse and obscuritie: J have therefore followed the counsell of the aforesaid Horace, teaching the duty of a good Jnterpreter, qui, quae desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit. By which occasion, some few sentences I have in places omitted, somewhat added, somewhat altered, and somewhat expounded: that which J have added, you shall finde noted with this marke * The significations of the names (being indeed no names, but onely words correspondent to the nature of Frogs and Mice) ne quis in ijs haereat, lest any should therewith be troubled, I have englished and inserted them in the verse, that the inferiour Readers should not bee [Page] wearied with looking in the margent: as for the learned, they need not be instructed. I meane not to be a prejudice to any that can doe finer; onely J would desire them to be are with this my simple labour, and to accept it as a thing roughly begun, rather then polished. And if any with this will not be contented, let him take in hand, and doe it anew himselfe, and I doubt not, but he shall finde it an easier thing to controll a line or two, then to amend the whole of this interpretation. Farewell.
W. F.
In commendation of Poetry.
AMong the divers currents that do flow
Frō th'euer springing fountain of al art,
The perled Nectar most cōtent doth show
Which Poetry full sweetly doth impart,
Whose hony'd vapour comforteth the heart,
And under vailed fancies that doth sing,
Which doth much profit with great pleasure bring
For certs the truth (though truth no colours need
To men of understanding and ripe yeeres)
When she is masked in a seemely weed,
More faire, more sweet, and beautifull appeares,
Her tale contents the mind, and glads the eares
And makes men more attentive to her story,
That truth may still prevaile with greater glory.
For as an Image drawne in white and blacke,
Though it be well proportioned with care,
If it doe other comely colours lacke,
To beautifie the members, head, and haire,
Vnto the eye appeares not halfe so faire;
Nor with so much content doth fill the minde,
As that portrayd with colours in his kinde:
Ev'n so a naked story simply told,
Though cause be true and worthy due regard,
Doth not mens hearts with such affection hold,
Nor hath the outward sences so in gard,
As doth that matter which is well declard,
Adorned pleasantly with tearmes and art,
Which piercing th'row the eares, doth move the heart.
This knew the learned Poets all of yore,
This knew th'immortall Sages long agone,
Whose workes the wisest of our age adore,
Such store of wisedome in their bookes is shone,
Such pleasure unto all, offence to none,
Such grave precepts hid under fine device,
As eares and heart with wonderment surprise.
No fable sweet Philosophy containes,
Within the sacred volumes of her cell,
Dipt in the fount, which from *A hill consecrate to the Muses. Pernassus strains,
Whereas the thrice three Nymphs are said to dwel,
That barbarisme and ignorance expell:
But under vaile deepe secrets doth unfold,
Though but a tale by wanton Ovid told.
By wanton Ovid? heavenly Poesie,
Parden the rashnesse of my infant Muse,
That I, a client to thy mysterie,
Should unadvisedly by that word abuse,
And terme him wanton, did no folly use:
For though his Muse was wanton, as he playned,
Yet Ovids life was chaste, and never stayned.
Nor sung he alwayes in a wanton lay,
And penned pleasing ditties of blinde fire:
Of deeper matters much could Ovid say,
As he whose soaring spirit mounted higher,
Than ever Poet after could aspire.
And save the famous Homer chiefe of all,
*Semper Virgilium excipio. The Prince of Poets may we Ovid call.
But neither Homer, Ovid, nor the rest,
That ever tasted *A fountaine of the Muses. Aganippes spring,
Though but to write of fables they addrest,
Which to th'unskilfull no contentment bring,
But with such arte and knowledge did them sing,
That in their volumes scarce appeares one line,
Which to the learned doth not seeme divine.
No vice of youth, no villany of age,
No lewd behaviour of each degree,
But in the secret myst'ries of the sage
And grave instructions of philosophy,
Clad in the habit of sweet Poesie,
Is aptly couched in some pretty fable,
As well the learned to discusse are able.
And not alone are vices set to view,
And horrid plagues attending wickednesse:
But blessed vertue with the heavenly crew,
Which ever wayt upon her worthinesse,
By them are portrayed forth with comelinesse:
The meanest fable Poet e're did make,
May stand as mirrour for example sake.
For proofe whereof, read but this little booke
With understanding, knowledge, care and skill,
And thou shalt finde presented to thy looke,
Such wit and learning from the Authors quill,
Which under fine inventions meet thee still;
So pleasant obiects that occurre thine *The eyes of thy minde. eyes,
As will thy soule with wonderment surprise.
And not alone shall pleasure thee awayte,
As thou perusest what I now present;
Here thou shalt have fit matter for each state,
If thou consider what hereby is ment.
Then thinke thy time herein not idly spent.
Ponder with iudgement what thou read'st at leysure,
So may thy profit equalize thy pleasure.
[...]: OR, The Battell betweene Frogs and Mice.
YE thrice three daughters of immortal Iove,
Boeotian nymphs of Helicons sweet spring,
Bright lamps of honor shining from above,
Where stil ye sit secure from envies sting,
Guiding the sterne of learnings sacred lore,
Vouchsafe to guide my pen, I you implore;
Your sweet consent conform my tender brest,
While I adorne my verse, as likes you best.
Deigne from your pleasant fountains of delight,
And ever-running Rivers of true skill,
Now to infuse sweet drops into my spright,
And heav'nly Nectar on my plants distill:
That they may grow like Bay, which ever springs,
To bud the battels of two mighty Kings,
And all the world may know how strife did rise,
Betweene renowned Frogs and gallant Mise.
The antique deeds which wanton Ovid told,
To be perform'd by Gyants long agone,
When mighty hils together they inrold,
Thinking to pull the Thundrer from his throne,
Compared to these battels cannot be,
"No more then brambles to the Caedar tree,
"Whose lofty top dare check the heav'ns faire eye,
"When at midday he sits in majestie.
In these approved souldiers of stern Mars,
Manhood, or Mars himselfe, may seeme to dwell:
For with such valour they endur'd the warres,
That horrid death their courage could not quell.
Stout resolution in their foreheads stood,
Fighting like valiant hearts amid their blood.
And this, alas, did cause the mortall strife,
Whereby so many gallants lost their life.
The Kings owne sonne, a Mouce of royall state,
Next heire by birth apparent to the Crowne,
Toyled with travell, flying from the Cat,
Vnto a pleasant brooke to drinke came downe,
Where couching low his body on the bank,
With great delight, cold water there he dranke.
"For though that gorged stomacks lothe strong drinke,
"Thirst makes the King cold water wine to thinke.
But while the gentle and debonayre Mouce,
Bathed his lips within the chanell cleare,
Quaffing most neatly many a sweet carouse,
Along the gliding current did appeare
*This was the King of Frogs. A gallant Frog, whose port and mounting pace,
Show'd him to be chiefe ruler in that place.
"For as quicke sparkes disclose the fire to be,
So doth mans gesture show his majestie.
From forth the river, like to liquid glasse,
The Frog ascends upon the waters brim,
And seeing where the Mouce lay on the grasse,
With nimble joynts he leapeth towards him;
And bending downe his fayre and yellow brest,
With kinde salutes he welcomes this new guest,
Beseeming well a Kings high dignitie:
And thus he spoke with solemne majesty:
Since that thou art a stranger, gentle Mouse,
From whom dost thou derive thy pedigree?
Declare to me thy parents and the house,
Which have conceived such a progenie,
That, if thy worth deserve, with greater sway,
Vnto my pallace thee I might convay:
Where I with kingly presents will thee grace,
As shall befit thy vertues, and my place.
And doubt not but we can confirme our word:
For know it's spoken by a mighty King,
The onely Monarch of this running ford,
Which all the Frogs to my subjection bring.
My promise to performe, I want no store,
My kingdome stretcheth out from shore to shore.
"Scarce he deserves the title of a king,
"That wanteth meanes t'accomplish any thing.
By birth I am a King, borne to the Crowne,
And hold by right my rushie chayre of state,
Peleus my durty Sire, great in renowne,
Of Queene Hydromedusa me begate.
She at the floud of Padus did me beare,
Whose head and cheeks did put her in great feare.
And that my name and person might agree,
Blowne-cheekt Physignathus she cleaped mee.
But since that valour in thy lookes doth dwell,
And Mars hath his abiding in thy face:
I thinke thy birth doth common Mice excell,
And thee descended from a higher place.
"For majestie attends upon estate,
"It cannot masked be, nor change his gate.
Thy Lordly lookes, thy royall birth proclaime;
Tell me thy country, kindred, and thy name.
The Mouce arising from the rivers brim,
Hearing the Frog speake with such Majestie,
With haughtie courage resaluteth him,
And thus replies with great audacitie:
*A bold answer to a King. Wherefore desirest thou to know our birth,
Famous to gods above, and men on earth?
"The greatest Kesar, and the country swaine,
"Of our exployts and stratagems complaine.
I am the Prince *Prince Eate crumme. Psicharpax, which in field
Dare meet a thousand crummes within the face,
All them encounter without speare or shield,
And bravely eate them up in little space,
Borne of Troxarta that redoubted king,
Of whose heroick acts the world doth ring;
Both rich and poore my valiant father dread,
With so great courage he devoures their bread.
* King Eate bread.
Lick-meale Lichomile, a royall Mouce,
My faire Queene-mother me conceiv'd hereby,
Vnder a pile of wood, behind a house:
(For at the present there the *The Court then lay at Woodstacke. Court did lye)
Where like the childe of Iove, within her lap,
I suckt sweet Nectar from her downe-soft pap,
Neatly she fed me in my yonger yeares
With milk, chees-curds, nuts, apples, figs & peares.
In vaine you wish our honour should descend
(Because our birth is of no small regard)
To taste the pleasures that your palace lend,
With store of juncats and delights prepar'd:
"For they whose lives and natures disagree,
"Do hardly brooke to joyne in companie:
"Like will to like, those birds consort together,
"Whose wings are like in colour, and of feather.
You simple Frogs live in the running mayne,
In brookes, in ditches, and the watry Fen.
Vpon the dry land we brave Mice remaine,
Where we enjoy the company of men:
We feed upon their dainties at our ease,
Eate up their bread and victuals when we please;
We passe not for their locks, nor strength of place,
"Both locks and strength doth policie deface.
Yet though when hunger moves an appetite,
We sometimes skirmish with the Kitchins store,
And here and there a little morsell bite,
And where we finde it fatter, eate the more:
For I have heard my father *A good Axiome. say of old,
Which as a maxime we Mice doe hold,
Fetter the better (sure 'tis worth repeating)
A fat sweet modicum deserves the eating.
And though sometimes (too seldome I confesse)
We light upon a Capon by the way,
Or fortune with a Rabbit doth us blesse,
Which is a dainty morsell at this day;
Or other pretty juncate which we finde,
And eate some part according to our kinde:
Yet are we not so greedy, as some say,
Which blame brave Mice, yet take the meat away.
For oft the greedy all-devouring Cat,
Which would be thought a safegard to the meat,
Doth under colour of her inward hate,
That aye between us two is wondrous great,
Forrage the cupbords, kitchin, and the house,
Pretending hatred to the harmelesse Mouce:
But cert's let all beware of this device,
"One greedy *Too many of these Cats. Cat is worse then many Mice.
Oft, when a Pigeon, or some dainty bit,
Chiefly for master or the mistris drest;
If any parcell be reserv'd of it,
To close their stomacke at another feast,
No sooner comes the morsell from the hall,
But servants take a part, or eate it all;
And when enquiry for this thing is made,
Still on the guiltlesse Mouce the fault is layd.
Surely I grant, it grieves me to the heart,
To beare these slanders and incessant wrong,
Which still they lay unto the Mouces part,
By their false lying and deceitfull tongue,
But in my sprite I scorne the vaine surmises
Which ev'ry cogging mate by craft devises;
Yet smile to see the mistris of the house,
Vpon her servants shoulders beat the Mouce.
Nethlesse they cannot say but we will take
A dire revenge upon them for the lie;
And since no conscience in a lye they make,
Their lye shall prove a truth, or we will dye:
For not a hole or corner shall be free,
Where any scraps or broken meat we see;
But whatsoe're we finde, without delay
Weele quickly eate it up, or beare away.
And yet thinke not (Sir Frog) we gallants live
Vpon the refuse scraps or broken meat;
Or feed on fragments which foule trenchers give,
When greazy scullions make them cleane and neat,
Farre be it from a lordly Mouces tooth,
To taste the trash that ev'ry Pesant doth;
Well knowes a discreet Mouce to choose the best,
Though he for anger often eate the rest.
Nor are we so faint-hearted, if we chance
To meet a Pye or Pastie by the way,
Which like a Castle doth her selfe advance,
Scorning the battrie of our brave array;
But streight couragiously her wals we scale,
Or undermine them for to make her quaile:
If valour will not bring our wish to passe,
Our teeth shall pierce her crust as hard as brasse.
Sweet cakes, fat puddings, curds, creame, are our meate,
With bacon-flitches hanging in the house,
Delicious hony-sops which gods doe eate,
Are victuals onely for the gallant Mouce.
No pleasant juncates, no tooth-tempting fare,
Which huswives locke up with no slender care,
*Yet oft more bold then welcome. Yea, no delights the kitchen doth containe,
But in the danger of our teeth remaine.
Pale feare of death could never make me flye,
Nor safegard of my life to leave the fight.
"True valour will with honour rather dye,
"Then like a coward live and take his flight.
But like a Souldier stout, and Captaine bold,
Still in the for most ranke my place I hold,
Where I enact such wonders with my blade,
That troupes I send to death and dusky shade.
* Et coelum territat armis.
The might of bourly man I doe not dread,
Though other creatures live within his feare:
Oft dare I bite his hand, and scratch his head,
When he the silent night in sleepe doth weare.
*Casibus insultas quos potes ipse pati. Iscorne his gins and his alluring bayt,
Set to intrap us closely by deceit:
Yet if therein the basest Mouse doe fall,
In our revenge his meate shall pay for all.
Onely the Owle I dread, and eye-bright Cat,
Two cursed murdrers in the dismall night,
Whose monstrous jawes spare neither Mouce nor Rat,
But quicke devoure us without law or right:
Yet chiefly of the Cat I stand in feare,
Whose puling voyce I never love to heare;
A hel-bred Harpie, ranging round about,
Watching our comming in and going out.
*Satietas nauseam parit. I tell thee Frog, I lothe to live on weeds,
Roots, coleworts, garlicke, or the foolish beet,
Or stinking mushroms, growing with the reedes:
Such vulgar diet for base Frogs is meet:
Meat fit for Frogs which haunt the watry Fen,
Not for the gallant Mouce that feeds with men.
And here abruptly ending in disdaine,
Thus smilingly the Frog replyde againe:
Stoutly thou brag'st upon thy costly cheare,
Thy dainty dishes and thy kingly fare;
Much honour to thy belly thou dost beare,
Vaunting what pleasures fall unto thy share,
And what a warlike heart in thee doth dwell,
Which pale-fac'd feare of death could never quell:
"But reason shewes by daily practise found,
"That empty vessels yeeld the greatest sound.
And yet seeme not to scorne our rushy chayre,
Because your belly-pleasures doe abound:
With our delights no solace may compare,
That can among poore starved Mice be found.
Vpon the land we dance and sport our sill,
In water bathe our limmes (so Jove doth will)
*Nulla aconita bibuntur fictilibus. Our cates are consonant unto our state,
Not mixt with poyson or deceitfull bayt.
And if the knowledge of the truth did move,
Or breed in thee a liking and delight,
Like to the radiant sonne of mighty Jove,
When riding in his Carre he gives us light,
I to my palace will thee safely bring,
Sitting upon the shoulders of a king:
*Credito, credenti nulla procella nocet. Leape on my neck, feare not the running maine,
I beare thee hence, I bring thee backe againe.
He had no sooner said, but bending downe
His back; "though rare it is to see Kings bow;
The lieger Mouce, lighter then thistle downe,
And swift as winde, which from the East doth blow,
Vpon his shoulders nimbly leaps in hast,
And vaulting to his neck, doth there hold fast,
Proud of his stately Porter, as he might:
"For whom Kings beare, they may be proud by right.
Boldly the Frog doth launch out from the brim,
Into the current of the water cleare:
The Mouce rejoycing for to see him swim,
Vpon his backe like *Neptune the god of the Sea. Neptune doth appeare,
When mounted on a Dolphin in his pride,
Vpon the tossing billowes he doth ride:
Or like the Sunne, clad in his morning weeds,
Drawne in his fiery waggon by his Steeds:
*Maior sum quam cui possit fortuna noscere. With so great port and prinely majesty
The little Mouce upon the Frog did stand,
Proudly triumphing while the shore was nye,
And that he could at pleasure skip to land.
Such great delights in water he did see,
Welneere he could desire a Frog to be.
"But as no state can stable stand for aye:
"So every pleasure hath his ending day.
For when he saw the surging billowes rise,
And on a sudden fall as low as hell,
Such store of teares did trickle from his eyes,
That their abundance made the water swell.
And now the waves bedash him more and more,
Tossing his corpes amid their watry store,
With griefe he wrings his hands, & teares his skin:
Such wofull plight, pale feare had put him in.
*Galeatum sero duelli poenitet. Now doth he wish, though wishes take no place,
That on firme land he were arriv'd againe;
He curseth Neptune, and his trident Mace,
The troubled waters and the running maine:
Now, but too late (alas) doth he repent
His foolish rashnesse, cause of this event.
"But after-wits like a showre of raine,
"That fals untimely on the ripened graine.
His feet unto his belly he doth shrinke,
And on the Frog his backe doth closely sit,
Vsing his nimble tayle when he did sinke,
In stead of oare. "Pale feare did learne him wit.
The flowing billowes mount above his head,
Speechlesse for sorrow, and for griefe halfe dead:
"Yet death is not so bitter as cold feare,
"Which makes things greater then they are, appeare.
*Heu quid agat? Sorrow triumpheth in the Mouce his brest,
Despaire doth sit as Marshall in his minde,
Danger and death on ev'ry side are prest,
Still to receive him at each puffe of winde:
"But danger can the heart of pride ne're breake;
"When fear hath staid the tong, yet pride wilspeak
"And though the waters wash the outward skin,
"They cannot wash presumption within.
For thus he sighing said, The gentle *Iupiter when he stole away Europa. Bull
Which Ovid doth applaud for knavery,
Did not convay to Creete his pretty trull
Vpon his necke with so great bravery,
As King of Frogs doth beare the gallant Mouce
To see the pompe and pleasure of his house,
Plunging his limmes amid the water cleare,
Such confidence to swimming he doth beare.
He this no sooner said, but sudden feare
Did stop the passage of his further prate:
For loe, a water-Serpent did appeare,
A hellish torment to the Frogs estate,
Which cutting through the running streame that way,
Winding himselfe to finde some floting prey,
The Frog espide: "What cannot feare descry,
"Which joyn'd with care, prevents sad destiny?
For he no sooner did the Snake behold,
Gaping like *Cerberus is said to have three heads, and to be porter of hell. Cerberus three-headed dog,
Ruffling his scaly neck which shone like gold,
But into water dives the wily Frog.
Leaving the Mouce his friend, in sad lament,
Set forth to danger, death, and dire event:
"For he which makes a friend of every stranger,
"Discards him not againe without some danger.
The silly Mouce distressed and forlorne,
Left to the mercy of the running mayne,
Vnto the bottome head-long downe is borne,
Where he, poore soule, in secret doth complaine,
Plunging with hands aloft now doth he fleet,
Then sinking downe againe he strikes with feet:
"But when grim destiny doth once assayle,
"No might, no shift, no force can then prevaile.
When therefore to approach he knew his death,
And that his wet haires furthered his woe,
Fate still attendant for to stop his breath,
And death at hand to worke his overthrow,
Weeping for sorrow, voyd of all reliefe,
Thus with himselfe he sigh'd to ease his griefe:
*Est quaedam flere voluptas. "For teares and sighes, sad orators of smart,
"Though they release not, yet they ease the heart.
Perfidious Frog, procurer of my wrack,
Accursed Traytor to my fathers Crowne,
Thinke not though vengeance for a time be slack,
That thundring Iove to whom all things are known,
Will be forgetfull of thy trechery,
Through whose deceit I dye in misery,
Which from thy back, as off a rocke I stood,
Hast thrown me, perjur'd wretch, amid the flood.
Well thou perceiv'dst my valour and my might,
My worth, my courage, and agilitie,
Which like a dastard and faint-hearted wight,
At unawares hast wrought my tragedie.
By craft I dye in water, though on land
Thou durst not once attempt it with thy hand:
But God, whose dwelling is the starres among,
He knowes thy craft, & will revenge my wrong.
*Jnterdum lachrymae pondera vocis habent. The Mice, brave Mice, stern soldiers of stout Mars,
In troopes shall march against thy damned crue,
And shall pursue thee with such bloudy wars,
That Frogs unborne yet shall have cause to rue.
Such balefull stratagems that day shall be,
As never cursed traytrous Frog did see:
"For ne're shall murder unrevenged boast,
And with those words he yeelded up the ghost.
Lichopinax Lick-trencher, of great blood,
Sitting upon the grassie waters side,
Saw when the Mouce was drowned in the flood:
"For murther by some chance will be espide;
And greatly weeping for the Princes fall,
Amayne he posteth to the Kings neate hall;
Where, to his Grace sitting with Lords of state,
He tels with griefe his sonnes unhappy fate.
When as his Majestie this newes did heare,
Sadly he tooke the Princes overthrow,
Downe from his throne he fell with heavy cheare,
And swooned in the place for griefe and woe.
His Nobles take him up without delay,
And on a royall pallet doe him lay,
Where he for sorrow sicke was like to dye:
"For childrens hurt neere fathers heart doth lye.
But all the Lords, though they were mal-content,
Griev'd for his death, which was their Kings sole care,
Yet like fell Lyons unto anger bent,
A blacke revenge within their minds they sware.
With comfortable words they cheare their King,
Which somewhat did abate his sorrowing.
*Minuit vindicta dolorem. Hope of revenge did so his stomacke pricke,
Now he is strong againe, which erst was sicke.
His messengers dispatched are apace,
To all the hungry corners in his land,
Commanding all his subjects in short space,
At Court before his Majestie to stand,
To learne his pleasure for his wofull sonne,
Whom the proud king of Frogs to death had don.
Whose corps lie buried in the rolling wave,
Wanting a royall Hearse as Princes have.
*The dutifulnesse of the Mice. The time no sooner came, when ev'ry Mouce
Of any office, calling or degree,
In his owne person at the kings great House,
Before his Majestie should present be:
But all the Lords, knights, squires, & gentle Mice
Resort to Court before the sunne did rise,
The basest Mouce that had a tayle behinde,
Posted apace to know his Graces minde.
Within the Court assembled were the States,
And each one seated in his due degree,
The Commons stayed at the Palace gates,
Yet where they might the King both heare and see.
Then presently his Majestie came downe,
Clad like a mourner in a murry gowne,
And from his throne, though griefe had made him weake,
Yet angry for his sonne, thus did he speake:
*The Oration of the King of Mice. Stout Peeres, brave Nobles, and my Captaines tall,
And you kinde subjects to your loving King,
Though to my part these mischiefes onely fall,
Which from my drearie eyes sad teares doe bring:
Yet to you all this dammage doth belong,
"For Kings mishap to subjects is a wrong.
I like a father, you like friends complaine,
Since cursed Frogs, my sonne, your Prince have slaine.
" *Tenet auratum limen erinnys. Great are the cares attend upon a throne,
"And most misfortunes sit in Caesars lap:
Then who so wretched as poore I alone,
Predestinate to nothing but mishap?
Once happy in three children borne to me,
As pretty Mice as ever man did see.
But Fortune glad to triumph in my woe,
Hath brought my sorrow with their overthrow.
For first, the eldest scarce was two months old,
When playing like a wanton up and downe,
A griesly Cat the young Mouce did behold,
And quickly caught him by the tender crowne.
Betweene whose cruell jawes my sonne did die,
Without remorse devoured traytrously.
A Stygian Butcher, knowne unto you all,
Whose teeth asunder teare both great and small.
My sonne next him, a little noble Mouce,
Too ventrous for to live (O griefe to tell!)
Hunting for food within a Farmers house,
*Fraude perit virtus. Into an engyne made of wood he fell,
Invented by mans art and policie,
To crush and murther all our Progenie:
There (loving Subjects) dy'de my second childe,
With rigour massacred, with craft beguild.
And now my third, my last beloved sonne,
But best beloved sonne of all the three,
With whom my joyes doe end, my life is done,
Most deare to his Queene-mother and to me;
In whom decayes the issue of my blood,
*Hinc illae lachrymae. Aye me, lyes buried in the raging flood,
Betrayd and drowned by the Frogs fell King,
To whom my sword sad elegies shall sing.
Then quickly arme your selves, to armes, he cries,
Fight for your King and Country without feare,
Pursue the Frogs your cursed enemies,
And gard your selves with helmet, shield and speare;
With courage shew your valour and your might,
The day is ours: for Iove still aydes the right:
Brave Lords, kind subjects, fight couragiously,
God and Saint *She is holden patronesse over Mice. Gertrude grant us victory.
The King in anger here did make an end,
And presently dismissed all the crue,
Which all their studie and endevours bend,
That black revenge and battell might ensue.
The Kings sad words did stirre them up so farre,
That nought they talke of now but bloudy war.
And every Mouce from greatest to the least,
Prepares such weapons as will fit them best.
*The armes and weapons of the Mice. And first, for legs, these never daunted Mice,
Warlike habiliments in haste provide,
Garded with huskes of pease (O rare device!)
As though with boots or start-ups they would ride:
"Whose policy if this our age would trie,
"So many maymed souldiers should not die:
"For they which lose their legs, do lack their might
"Nor can they fly, nor stoutly stand to fight.
Next with a corslet they defend the heart,
Not made of steele, but of an old straw-hat,
With which before they did award that part,
Against the forces of the greedy Cat:
A piece of leather on their backe they don,
Which serves in stead of an habergion:
The bottome of a candlesticke doth stand
For target or a buckler in their hand.
*Gerimus quae possumus arma. Small brazen pinnes they brandish like a speare,
And tosse their needles like strong pikes about;
A walnut shell for helmet they doe beare,
After that they had eate the kernell out.
And thus they march to fight that bloudy fray,
Vaunting in armour and their proud array:
"For weapons unto force fresh courage bring,
"A Mouce in armes doth thinke himselfe a king.
*Res animos incognita turbat. But when the trumpe of iron-winged Fame
Had sounded to the Frogs this bad report,
Out of the water in great troopes they came,
And on the shore together doe resort,
There to determine what the cause should be,
Of these strange warres and sudden mutinie:
Their dread increaseth by each brute they heare:
"For feare of unknown things breed greater feare
Whiles thus they stand perplexed and afraid,
*Herald Eate-cheese. A Herald bold of Armes they might descry,
Eat-cheese Tyroglyphus, which not dismaid,
Dare stoutly to their face the Frogs defie,
Whom noble Embasichytros begot,
That slily creepeth into ev'ry pot.
He bearing in his hand a regall mace,
Thus to the Frogs did speake in great disgrace:
To you disloyall Frogs that hunt for blood,
And to your King that wrought our Princes fall,
Drowning his body in the raging flood,
Whose death to heaven doth for vengeance call.
To you I come, sad messenger of woe,
From angry Mice, which wish your overthrow:
And here, in all their names, and from our King,
A flat defiance to base Frogs I bring.
*Ingentes parturit ira minas. Warres, hostile warres, accursed traytrous Frogs,
Here I denounce, and spit within your face,
Damned deceitfull wretches from your bogs
We will abolish your detested race:
Then arme your selves, for vengeance we will take
Vpon all Frogs for our brave princes sake.
If courage in your craven hearts doth dwell,
Meet us in open field: and so farewell.
When he had said these words, as in disdaine,
Scorning an answere from the Frogs to beare,
Forthwith he posted to the Mice againe,
Whose message put the Frogs in mighty feare:
"Yet feare breeds wrath, wrath kindles courage more.
That now windes rage which erst were calme before.
The King then rising from his chaire of state,
Gravely their valours thus did animate:
*The Oration of the King of Frogs. Lords, Nobles, gallant Frogs, and all the Trayne
Which here attend to know our royall will,
Subjects, nay more then Subjects in our raigne,
For we are fellowes and compartners still:
Vexe not your mindes, "all clouds doe beare no raine,
"Nor in proud brags true valour doth remaine.
These are but words, fit bugs to scare the crowes:
"And cowards brags do seldome end with blows.
"But if their meaning with their words agree,
"Then doe they seeke to undermine our Crowne,
A forged quarrell they impose on me,
That I a proud audacious Mouce should drowne:
And under this false colour they devise,
To cloke the treasons of their enterprise.
"Each foole can finde a staffe to beate a dog.
"He must have both his eyes that blindes a Frog.
Heaven and earth to witnesse I doe call,
And all the golden Planets of the skie,
That I attempted not the Mouces fall,
Nor once remember I did see him die:
But this I thinke, that, playing on the brim,
Seeing the gallant Frogs so bravely swim,
He thought to doe the like, and leaped in,
Where he was justly plagued for his sinne.
And now these lurking creatures, hungry Mice,
Which scarce dare shew their faces in the light,
A crue of greedy vermine, which devise
Nothing but stealth and rapine in the night:
These doe unjustly charge me with his death,
Because within our reigne he lost his breath:
But I will teach these proud audacious fooles,
Not jest with kings, nor meddle with edge-tooles.
Then friends, kind friends, & fellowes to your king,
Plucke up your spirits, banish slavish feares;
For in this warre, whence terrour seemes to spring,
Me thinkes great joy and comfort still appeares,
Since gallant Frogs, whom nothing terrifies,
Fight with a starved troope of hungry Mice.
Courage, brave mates, take weapons, and to fight:
"Fortune defends true valour in his right.
But since men may in warre sometimes prevayle,
As much by policy, as power or might,
And that where strength and prowesse often fayle,
Wit doth at length give succour to the right.
*A rare policy of the Frogs. I wish you arme your selves with speare & shield,
And march along the shore unto the field,
Where, on a hill which over-lookes the flood,
We will incampe our selves as in a wood.
When to this place these craven Mice convay
Their fearefull souldiers, like a flocke of sheepe,
And to besiege our fortresse shall assay,
Where we upon the hill our forces keepe:
If any boasting Mouce upon the banke,
Dare but ascend one foot before his ranke,
Him we will all assayle infurious mood,
And cast his body headlong in the flood.
By this rare stratagem and brave devise,
We shall their malice and great pride abate:
Thus shall we conquer corner-creeping Mice,
Which would annoy our peace and quiet state.
*Addidit invalida robur faecundia causae, And thus with trophies and triumphing play,
We will like victors crowne our heads with bay.
Then arme your selves, brave mates, with speare & shield
"God, and great Neptune grant us winne the field.
Here did he end, and scarce he made an end,
But all the Frogs, from greatest to the least,
For these ensuing warres their studies bend
To get such weapons as befit them best:
*The armour and weapons of the Frogs. First to their thighes green Malow they do wrap,
Which hang down like a bag or butchers flap.
Beets, like a cloke, upon their backe they don,
Which serves for brest-plate and habergion.
A Cockles shell for sallet they prepare,
T'award their heads from blowes amid the field:
In their left hands these water-souldiers bare
A leafe of Colewort for a trusty shield,
And in their right (for all parts armed were)
They tosse a bulrush for a pike or speare.
Along the shore they march in this aray,
Mad with fell rage, yet glad to see this day.
Thus whil'st both armies did prepare to fight,
*A counsell assembled in heaven. Almighty Iove, eternall, without end,
Invites the gods into his palace bright,
Whence ratling thunder, & bright flames descend:
And pointing with his finger downe below,
To them these puissant warriours doth he show,
Stout as the Contaures or the Gyants great,
Which once assai'd to pull Jove from his seat.
*Aspiciunt oculis superi mortalia iustis. Whom when the gods together did behold,
Marching like Pigmie-Braggarts in aray,
And sternly shake their speares like champions bold,
As though no terrour could their hearts dismay,
They made the court of heavn with laughter ring;
Such pleasure and delight the sight did bring.
Then smiling Iove (deep silence kept a space)
Lift up his voyce, and spoke with royall grace:
If Frogs and Mice (quoth he) their patrons have,
Chast daughter Pallas, my *Goddesse of warre. Bellona deere,
Tell us which side thou wilt protect and save,
Shall not the gallant Mice be victors here?
Great store of them within thy temples dwell,
Allured thither by the tempting smell,
Which still amounteth from thy sacrifice.
Pallas againe did answer in this wise:
Great Lord of heav'n and earth, beloved Sire,
If you command, your daughter must obay,
My will subjected is to your desire,
"For children cannot fathers hests deny:
Yet force me not, kinde father, once to shield
These hunger-starved pyrats in the field,
False lurking creatures, greedy theevish Mice,
Whose teeth pollute my sweet fat sacrifice.
Great are the wrongs and mischiefes I abide,
By these detested vermine day and night,
Much they impaire my worship and my pride:
And shall I then defend them in this right?
The hallow'd oyle, which sacred fire doth stay
Within my lamps, they steale and licke away:
My *Crownes of victory. crowns they gnaw, but these are losses small,
This is the hurt molests me most of all:
My brave ensigne embrodered all with gold,
Never brave ensigne was so rich of price,
Wherein my acts and triumphs were enrold,
Is eaten, torne and spoyled by these Mice.
This is my hurt surpassing all the rest,
For this cause chiefly I these Mice detest:
And shall I, father, seeme to patronize
My foes, my wrongers, and sworne enemies?
Ne're these accursed beasts will I defend:
Command ought else, great Iove, but pardon this:
Nor durty Frogs Bellona will befriend,
Whose joy and pleasure in foule puddles is.
For as I loath the Mice for sundry wrongs:
So I detest base Frogs for croking songs,
Whose harsh unpleasant voyces in the night
Breed nought but terror to each mortall wight.
When I returne oft sweating from the warres,
And after fainting travell thinke to sleepe,
With their seditious brawles, and croking jarres,
Which in the filthy marishes they keepe:
Awake I lye, till mornings trumpeter
Gives warning for the day-starre to appeare,
And cheerfull Cock chants forth his wonted lay,
To shew the dawning of the joyfull day:
Though we are gods, yet let us all beware
To succour in our person either part:
For if these meete the gods, they will not spare
To strike them with their javelins to the heart:
But let us rather joy to see this fray,
Where we behold their ruine and decay.
Thus Pallas said. To whom incontinent
The heavenly Senate gave a full consent.
*The battell. Meane while both armies mustred on the plaine,
And place their wings and squadrons in aray,
From either part a Herald doth againe
Give signe for battell and the bloudy day.
The buzzing Flies, because they were of skill
To blow alowd their hornes and trumpets shrill,
A harsh tantarra sound unto the fight,
Which lends more courage to their wonted might.
Heaven and earth doth thunder with the cry,
When front to front these noble armies meet,
Loose waving in the winde their ensignes flie,
With wounds and fatall blowes each other greet.
The Mice assaile, the Frogs the fight accept,
In combat close each host to other stept:
For now the wings had skirmish hot begun,
And with their battels forth like Lyons run.
But who was first amid this bloudy fight,
That gave the onset first, first wanne renowne?
Croaking Hypsiboas, first like a knight,
Lick-taile Lichenor bravely tumbled downe,
Into his paunch so strong he thrust his speare,
That forth his backe behinde it did appeare,
Groveling the Mouce fell on the sandy plaine,
By this audacious Frog with valour slaine.
Next him, Troglodytes, which not afraid,
Each secret hole and corner creepeth in,
Gave Pelion the Frog, with durt berayd,
A deadly foile with his small brazen pin:
Within the wound the javeling sticketh sore,
And frō the veines forth streams the purple gore,
Thus to his end pale death this Frog did bring,
"*Tendimus huc omnes. Which kils the caitife with the crowned king.
Pot-creeping Embasichytros, of late,
Whose valiant sonne did all the Frogs defie,
Now quite confounded by disastrous fate,
Devoid of life thy headles truncke doth lie
At hardy Seutlëus his crooked feet,
A Frog which feeds on nothing but the beete.
And clam'rous Polyphon there lyes thou dead,
Slayne by Artophagus which eateth bread.
But when Limnocharis their deaths beheld,
Which in the marish hath his whole delight,
The angry Frog, by love and ire compeld,
To sad revenge his pow'r and forces dight:
"*Mors morte pianda est. Life must be paid with life, the Frog did cry,
"Their deaths I will revenge, or with them dye.
"Thus when true love, & valour guide the heart,
"A cowards hand will play a souldiers part.
And from the ground a milstone in great hast
He raught: "strange wonders courage doth enact:
And with great violence the same he cast,
At proud Troglodites as one distract:
In middle of his necke the stone did light,
Whereby he sleepeth in eternall night:
Thus bruised with the fall, this Mouce did lye,
Suffring the torments of deaths tyranny.
Yong Lichenor, his sonne that first was slaine,
A gallant Mouce, which did no colours feare,
Desirous, though with death, renowne to gaine,
That his exploits, ensuing times might heare,
Fierce butcher-like Limnocharis espide,
Whose weapons were with bloud in scarlet dide:
To whom he said, Fight coward, or else flie,
Thou or Lichenor here shall surely dye.
And with those words, ayming his heart to hit,
Strongly his javeling at the Frog he threw,
It pierc't his side, his brest and bowels split,
His vitall spirits from his body flew;
Dead lay Limnocharis upon the playne,
The bravest souldier in the watry trayne.
"For death impartiall doth with one selfe hand,
"Cut off the strong & weake at heavens command.
Crambophagus, Eat-Colewort, which of late
Basely his armes and weapons cast away,
Thinking by flight to flie the stroke of fate,
Ran to the water from the mortall fray:
Whom Lichenor, more swift then he, pursude,
And in his hearts warm bloud his speare imbru'd:
Vpon the shore the dastard Frog was slaine,
Ere he could leape into the running maine.
Heroicall Limnesus, Fennie Lord,
Incensed by mad rage, blacke furies brand,
The bold Ty [...]oglyphus slew with the sword,
A great commander in the Mouces band.
Deepe holes and hollow caves he usde to delve
Among the Cheeses lying on the shelve.
His head the Frog doth from his necke advance,
And in great triumph beares it on his lance.
Faint-hearted *So called of the herbe Calamint. Calaminthiu, in great feare,
Little in stature, and of courage small,
Beholding vast Pternoglyphus appeare,
A Mouce exceeding great, strong, bourly, tall
And which in bacon flitches holes doth make,
He doth his weapons with the field forsake,
And craven-like fled to the durty bogs,
"Even as the fearefull Hare pursude with dogs.
But bold Hydrocharis, that loves the flood,
Famous for deeds of armes, would never flie,
The furious Mouce this peerelesse Frog withstood,
Nor would he shun a foot though he should die:
Lately Pternophagon this gallant killed,
Which oft with Bacon hath his belly filled:
Now with a stone, Pternoglyphus he slew,
Whose cloddred brains the crimson field imbrew.
Lichopinax, which first told to the king
The balefull newes of his sonnes tragedy,
At Borborocaetes did his darts still fling:
A valiant Frog, though in the durt he lye.
Prostrate he fell upon the sandy ground,
The Mouces dart had made a mortall wound:
Whereat pale death sent forth his fainting sprite,
To sleepe in darkenesse and eternall night.
When this the Frog Prassophagus beheld,
Eat-Leeke Prassophagus, swift as the Hynde,
He ranne with mighty stowre along the field,
And taking Cuissodioctes neat behind,
From off his feet the little Mouce he flung,
Into the streaming current all along,
Nor there he left him, till with raging mood
He had his foe estrangled in the flood.
Eat-crumme Psicharpax, which was neere allide
Vnto the kings yong sonne that erst was drown'd,
In succour of his friends the Frogs defide,
And to the battell made him ready bound,
Durty Pelusus in the panch he thrust,
Faintly the Frog sunke downe into the dust,
Whose fluttring spirit did her passage make,
Downe to *It is taken for the entry into hell. Avernus that unpleasant lake.
Pelobates, which loves to tread the myre,
Saw when his friend and fellow souldier fell,
And adding fuell to the smoking fire,
His furie into burning flames gan swell:
For filling both his hands with durt apace,
He cast it fiercely in Psicharpax face,
Which much besmeard his visage with disguise,
And almost blinded and put out his eyes.
But he the strong Psicharpax mov'd with spleene,
And justly angry at this beastly wrong,
Tooke up a mighty stone which there had beene
A bound or landmarke tweene two neigbours long,
And hurling it with vigour and great power,
He burst his knee asunder in that stower,
The right leg fell dismembred from his thigh,
And not once moving, on the ground doth lye.
Ne there he thought to leave him in sad plight,
But with a javelin would have rest his life,
Had not Craugasides, that croaking wight,
Whose chiefest pleasure is in brawling strife,
Kept off the blow, and with a sudden push,
Thrust through the Mouce his belly with a rush,
Vpon the ground his bowels gushed forth:
"Thus di'de this martial hart, & Mouce of worth▪
Which when Eat-corne Sitophagus espide,
That erst was maymed of two legs in fight,
Washing his wounds along the water side,
And sore amazed at this rufull sight,
He dared not adventure forth againe
Into the field, for feare he should be slaine:
But leapt into the strong entrenched fort,
Where he received was in joyfull sort.
N [...]thlesse the warlike troopes of eyther band,
Persisted still with courage in the field,
Great store lye slaine upon the drenched sand,
Yet not, for thy, a souldier seemes to yeeld:
"Now fury roares, ire threats, & woe complains,
"One weepes, another cryes, he sighes for paines.
"The hosts both clad in bloud, in dust and myre,
"Had chang'd their cheare, their pride, their rich attire.
Thus whiles the conquest was to neither bent,
But poizd in ballance betweene hope and feare,
Those two which hold the supreme government
O're both the armies which in battell were,
*The conflict of the two kings. The Kings of Frogs and Mice together meete,
Where they with mortal blows each other greet:
"But cowards often faintly step aside,
"When manhood is by resolution tride.
For scarce they had encountred in the fight,
And lent some equall strokes on either side,
When king of Mice thinking his foe to smite
Vpon the head, his sword to ground did glide,
But yet his foot it wounded when it fell,
Which blow did much his haughty courage quell:
For he which erst was author of this strife,
Now seekes the bogs for safegard of his life.
The valourous incensed king of Mice,
Seeing the Frogs proud king so basely flye,
Which was of late so resolute and wise,
To vaunt of trophies ere he blowes did try,
Calling his souldiers on with cheerefull hue,
His fainting weary foe he doth pursue,
Stil hoping (since his wound had made him slow)
To overtake him with a fatall blow.
And but that never-daunted Captaine brought,
Captaine Prassaeus, Greene as garden-Leeke,
A troope of gallants which would flie for ought,
To aide the king, his life had beene to seeke.
Which pressing through the middle of the fray,
Rescude their wounded king which fled away,
And with their darts beat backe the Mice a space,
Till forth of danger they had rid his grace.
Greatly the Mice were danted with their blowes,
So thicke they fell, and forcibly were sent,
That they were forc'd from danger of the throwes,
Backe to retire and some what to relent,
Vntill their rage and furie were o'repast,
Through want of breath: then they againe as fast
The Frogs assaile, and mightily amate,
As forward erst, now backward to retraite.
Among the squadrons of the Mouces band,
One Mouce there was more gallant then the rest,
A braver souldier was not in the land,
Nor stouter Captaine ever wars profest:
For though sterne Mars his manhood list to try,
Mars could not force this daring Mouce to flie:
But when in armes this warriour is yclad.
He rather is of Mars to be ydrad.
This was the sonne of Artepibulus,
Which doth for bread in wait and ambush lye,
Of loftie heart and magnanimious,
A worthy sire to such a progenie,
Whom mighty Meridarpax he did call,
That eats the crummes which under table fall:
Was never Mouce which under heav'n doth live,
That durst adventure with him for to strive.
Like to a Gyant stood this champion bold,
Vpon the shore neere to the rivers side,
Vaunting his might and prowesse, as he would
Have pull'd the throne of Jove downe in his pride.
And holding up his bourly armes to heaven,
Swore by the Sun, the Moone, and Planets seven,
That e're bright Phoebus lighted from his wayne,
One craven Frog should not alive remaine.
For by this hand, quoth he, by this right hand,
(Searce would a man beleeve it though he sweare)
Though not a Mouce will venture them withstand,
But flie the field for cowardise and feare:
Yet I, behold I, will so thresh these Frogs,
That with their corses I will fill the bogs:
Or they, or I, by Iove this vow I make,
This night will lodge beyond the *A river in hell, over which soules doe passe to all places. Stygian lake.
And cert's, these words had not beene spoke in vaine,
He had perform'd his vow: (though shame to tell)
If that the Father of the heav'nly traine,
The king of men, and Lord of deepest hell,
Great Iove, had not beheld from starry skyes
His dire complots and bloudy enterprise,
And taking pittie of the Frogs estate,
To Mars and all the rest thus gan relate.
Ye Gods, which here behold this dismall day,
And see the slaughters of the cruell fight,
What braggard Mouce is this that beares such sway
Neere to the river, vaunting of his might?
How bold he lookes, how proud he bears his head,
As though the Frogs lay all before him dead,
Deepely protesting on the parched sand,
Not one poor Frog shall scape his murdring hand.
Divine inhabitants of heav'n, behold,
Behold, I say, alas, the wretched case,
And great mishap which doth poore Frogs enfold,
Now prest to suffer ruine and disgrace:
Vnlesse you deigne to save them at this houre,
And send in ayde some number of your power,
To quell the daring courage of the Mice,
And stop proud Meridarpax enterprise.
If that displease, then let us Pallas send
T'asswage the furie of this cruell fone:
Or thou sterne Mars haste thither for to wend,
Yclad in armes of Adamantine stone;
That this fell *Meridarpax. Tyger, greedy of his prey,
E're he annoy the Frogs, may runne away.
Here Iove did end: But Mars of visage grim,
Arising from his seat, replide to him:
Beloved Father, Lord of heav'n and hell,
To your behest all powr's subjected stand,
Which doe in heav'n or lower regions dwell,
None may or dare deny when you command:
Then think, sweet Father, Mars accounteth still Jove,
Your word for right, as law your only wil,
"Kings men command on earth, why should not
"The King of Kings, command the gods above?
Speake but the word, great Mars is alwayes prest,
At Ioves appoynt, in armes to enter field;
And for stout Pallas, at your least request,
I know my sister willingly will yeeld:
But neither I. though I be god of warres,
Nor Pallas, whose renown doth reach the starres,
Now are of force the falling Frogs to stay,
Or them preserve from imminent decay.
No, rather send the gods, send all the power,
That highest heavenly Hierarchies can make,
Or on their heads lightning with thunder shower,
(That all their armie may with terrour quake)
With which thou slyw'st the Giants long agone,
*A great Giant which Iupiter slew with lightning. Enceladus, and proud *Phaceon, he was slayne with thunder. Apolloes sonne.
Thus ended f [...]owning Mars. To whose behest
Great Iove gave full consent, with all the rest.
And presently ascending up the tower,
Where sulphrous brands with stony darts of fire,
And all the weapons of his might and power
Are kept, to plague proud rebels in his ire:
First, there he caus'd great gastly flames arise,
And thunder-claps, that seem'd to rend the skies,
And still among this hideous roaring sound,
He darted burning bolts the Mice to wound.
Pale feare assayled both the Frogs and Mice,
When first on sudden they the thunder heard,
So great a terrour in their mindes did rise,
As though with spirits they had beene askard:
"For who in's brest so stout a heart doth beare,
"That when heav'ns thunder, doth not quake for feare,
"And stand amaz'd to view with mortall eyes,
"When angry Iove darts lightning from the skies?
Nethlesse, although the Mice were much dismayd,
To heare the sound, and see the fearefull sight,
Yet left they not the battell as afrayd,
But stood with greater courage to the fight.
"*Apparet virtus, arguiturque malis. Certes, true valour may recoyle a space,
"Yet still her force renues with greater grace.
Fiercer they rage than erst they did before:
Such heapes of Frogs lye slaine upon the shore.
When angry Iove beheld with rufull eye,
For all his care, the Frogs still goe to w [...]acke,
And see the Mice more desperate hereby,
Scorning his lightnings and harsh thunder-cracke,
He wept to view their slaughter and decay:
And now he thought to try a surer way,
By other meanes the Frogs from death to shend:
"For whom God loves, he favours to the end.
From forth the Cesterne of the Ocean deepe,
Whence rivers both their springs and tydes renue,
*The description of the Crabs. An ugly swarme of filthy monsters creepe,
A foule infernall and ill-favour'd crue,
Which still goe backward with a squinting eye,
To see before their footsteps what doth lye:
"For thus doth mother nature alwayes ayme.
"For each defect a remedy to frame.
Exceeding were their shoulders out of square;
So broad, so great, as irkes my muse to tell:
Their bald blue backe withouten skin or haire,
Was all o're whelmed with a costive shell,
As hard as Iron, or the flinty stones.
Their bodies wholly were compact of bones.
Before their ugly face two clawes beare sway,
With which they wont to grope & feele their way.
On eyther side of their deformed brest,
Foure crooked legs their grievous burden beare:
Two sterne grim lowring eyes by natures hest,
In middle of their belly did appeare.
Their griesly crownes seem'd cloven into three;
On two whereof like helmets you might see.
So vile a brood of fell mishapen Snakes
Ne're could be found, but in th' infernall lakes.
These monstrous ugly Crabs (for Crabs they were)
Crawling along the spacious continent,
When Iove beheld from out his Palace cleare,
Which lyes beyond the spangled firmament,
He sent the hel-bred band unto the fray,
To kill the Mice, or make them runne away.
The Crabs obeyd, "nor take they care for armes;
"Their shels wil keep them safe frō greatest harms.
No sooner were they come unto the fight,
Where warlike Mice their enemies assayle,
But all at once the Crabs upon them light,
Asunder breake their legs, bite off their tayle,
Their javelins pluck away, & pinch their hands,
Nothing their savage cruelty withstands:
So Tiger-like upon the Mice they prey,
As would perforce the stoutest heart afray.
But when the Mice beheld these monsters rage,
So dire and bloudy as doth grieve me tell,
Their haughty courage some deale gan asswage,
Their hearts from wonted resolution fell;
Their armes they throw away, the field forsake,
And to their heeles for safegard them betake:
"For if both heaven and hell conspire decay,
"No marvell though poor Mice do runne away.
Thus by the succour of the Crabs that day,
The Mice were forced to a shamefull flight,
The Frogs preserv'd from imminent decay,
Which else had slept in death and endlesse night.
And now the welked Phoebus gan to rest
His wearied waggon in the scarlet West,
When sullen night prepar'd her course to runne,
Seal'd up the battell with the setting Sunne.
The conclusion of the Translator.
LOe, in a vaile presented to thine eye,
Among more lessons worthy due regard,
Of trifling jarres and foolish enmity,
The ominous successe and just reward.
See then from strife and discord thou refraine,
Lest sad repentance breed thy further paine:
"For if *Hodie sub hominum specie, Caneri causas agunt. blacke Crabs doe chance to part the fray,
"Small is their gaine that beare the best away.
‘Et facit ad mores ars quoque nostra bonos.’
FINIS.
To his Cousin, Master Ambrose Hargreves health.
VVHether a secret influence from above,
Or supernaturall motion of the mind,
May seeme good-liking, and affection move,
Among those men whom kindred had combind:
Or whether nature, Cousin, us inclin'd,
So highly to esteeme affinitie,
I cannot easly judge, nor causes finde,
Why we so favour consanguinity.
But cert's the worke is from divinitie.
And whence this inward motion doth arise,
Js for my purpose needlesse to decide,
Sithence we finde it true, whom bloud alies,
In league of friendship commonly abide,
And in the band of love are nearer ty'de:
Nethlesse when other causes beare a sway,
To move good will, it cannot be denide,
But then it is more firme, as is the day,
Brighter when Phoebus doth his beames display.
Yet since first kindred doth command as due,
An interchange of amity and love,
Much, I confesse, for this I favour you,
In whom the gifts of wit and learning move,
[Page]Which more confirme what here J seeke to prove:
But that you live old Hargreves onely sonne,
Whose blessed soule rests in the armes of Iove,
And in the bosome of the Holy one;
This hath the key of my affection.
This hath the greatest intrest in my heart,
And deeper stands infixed in my brest,
Then either kindred, or the gifts of art,
Or what blinde Nature doth esteeme as best:
For though I held him deare, I doe protest,
Before his passage from this vale of woe,
Yet now enthron'd in everlasting rest,
Much more J love; we seldome fully know
True Vertues worth, till vertue we forgoe.
Gone is the starre, whose lustre beautifide
Each twinkling light that Northren climats bred,
Yet though that clouds obscure Apollo's pride,
With greater glory soone he shewes his head:
So though we thinke renowned Hargreve dead,
His life eclipsed by the clouds of fate,
No myst or darknesse can so overspread
His lives true honour, or his praise abate,
But still it shines abroad in fresher state.
What should I thinke to set his praises forth,
Which farre exceeds the compasse of my braine?
[Page]Too lofty subject for my simple worth,
Nor can I easly reach so high a strayne,
Which never tasted that immortall vayne,
Flowing with Nectar downe the sacred hill,
Where those nine virgin-Muses aye remaine,
Which learned heads with heavenly fury fill,
[...] drop arts drearyment into their quill.
Nethlesse, although so many tongues J had,
As *A Giant with a hundred hands. Briareus had hands great Homer sayes,
In habit of sweet eloquence yclad,
To blazon to the world his vertuous dayes,
I should but give an Eccho to his praise,
And much abridge the volume of his story:
Vertue is best to crowne her selfe with Bayes,
And Hargreves worth to register his glory,
Which still survives, though life be transitorie.
In spite of envy, slander, death and hell,
Hargreve revives from prison of the grave;
Above the bankes of Fame his praises swell,
Since hissing Serpents sought him to deprave:
When Vertue most is spurn'd, she growes most brave.
Yet he which in his life was unrevil'd,
In whom vile Malice could no vantage have,
After his death by slander is defil'd:
But Vertues meed hath infamy beguild:
For forth the ashes of foule Obloquie,
Burn'd with the firebrands of slandrous lyes,
This peerelesse Phoenix, crown'd with victory,
Still doth renue himselfe and never dyes,
And on the wings of Honour mounts the skies,
Whereas his soule rests in Iehovah's arme,
Scorning the checks of dunghill Scarabies,
And all the bitings of that viprous swarme,
Whose tongues are ever prest to worke his harme.
Cousin, me thinkes the mysterie is deepe,
That they which Shepheards doe in shew appeare,
Clad in the habite of a simple sheepe,
Whom neither pride nor envy commeth neere,
Should be transformed to an ugly Beare,
And play the Wolfe so fitly in the end,
As a dead man asunder for to teare,
Whom in their life they never durst offend,
Proving a savage Vulture to their friend.
Yet thus, we see, somes Cookes are wont to use
The silly sheep, which whil'st he breathes the ayre,
They never dare adventure to abuse,
Or seeke the harmelesse creature to impayre:
But when the bloudy Butcher doth not spare
Within his throte to sheath the murdring blade,
They streight disioynt his members without care,
And cut and mangle him before them layd,
More cruell then the Butcher by their trade.
Needlesse it is my meaning to unfold:
Your Eagles eyes will quickly see the Sunne;
All that shewes faire, is not refined gold;
Nor all pure vestals which in cloysters wonne:
Sometimes a Wolfe a Shepheards weed will don:
And starved Snakes, as Esope wisely told,
Preserv'd through pity from destruction.
When fire hath freed their joynts benum'd with cold,
Will hisse their friend, like Serpents from his hold.
Pardon me, Cousin, though I seeme too bold,
T'unrip the Cankers of a festred sore,
Too much I grieve to heare him thus controld,
And falsly slandred by a grunting Bore,
And by a heard of swine, which erst before,
When famous Hargreve liv'd, like dogs did flatter
Yet heav'n I hope, which iudgements hath in store,
Will first or last reward them for this matter:
And turne the case on shore when tydes want water.
Longer I will not agravate their shame,
Broaching the caske of their unnat'rall sinne:
Well can the world testifie the same,
How thankelesse and ungratefull they have bin,
And how iniurious still they dealt herein:
But since the world neglects a dead mans wrong,
My Muse, albe't she be both bare and thin,
Js not afraid, though envies part be strong,
To let them know th'abuses of their tongue.
But let the wicked band themselves in one,
To worke true vertues ruine and decay:
Tread you the path your father erst hath gone,
And feare not what the proud can doe or say:
For though ambition seeme to beare a sway,
And envies sting procure the just mans smart,
Truth will advance her cause as cleare as day,
And turne the scandall of detractions dart,
Vpon themselves, with shame and griefe of heart.
Well could you beate (I know) the billowes backe,
Which seeke t'orewhelme the Bark of Hargreves name:
But never tempest can his vessell cracke,
Since Vertue serves as Anchor to his fame:
Deigne therefore, Cousin, to protect from blame
This simple worke, that like as Hargreves friend
Stands in the front to patronize the same;
So Hargreves sonne in fine will it defend,
Lest Curres doe bite behind what I have pend.
FINIS.